#how to make every kind of flour you need

[foodyfuddyduddy]

[lechrts]

Dinner’s Ready. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Bestfriend!reader

Summary: Helping your bestfriend learn how to cook because his out of date freezer meals were a bit concerning.

Word Count: 2.1k

Disclaimer/s: Fluff fluff fluffff!! :3

Vera’s Voice! i liked this one tbh :3 wrote it during my lunch break today!!! hope u enjoy!!!

“Lando, you cannot be serious.”

“I am serious,” He replied, leaning casually against the counter as you stared at the horror show that was his freezer. “What’s the big deal?”

You turned slowly, holding up a frostbitten container of… something? You squinted at the label. Lasagna? Or… meatloaf? The date scribbled on top was from months ago. Possibly before summer.

“The big deal, you idiot, is that I’m pretty sure this thing is one microwave cycle away from mutating.” You held the container of mystery meat in your hand as you felt a gag creeping forward but you choked it down.

Lando scoffed with a grin, the dimpled, infuriating kind, like this was all a joke to him. “Survival of the fittest.” He shrugged.

“This is not funny!” You groaned, dramatically shoving the container into his arms like you’d caught him red-handed.

“You’re going to give yourself food poisoning one day. Like I’m honestly surprised you haven’t died already.”

“I’m built different.” He argued.

“You’re built stupid.”

He laughed loudly, unbothered by your scolding. “Okay, Mum, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re lucky I'm even here,” You shot back, spinning around to grab your grocery bag like some kind of control freak. “You’re about to learn how to cook a proper meal for once in your life!” A pause.

“God, this is what the rich does to people.” You muttered to yourself.

Lando groaned like you’d told him he had to run ten miles uphill. “Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?”

“Because you’re terrible at following instructions,” You teased, already digging out the flour, eggs, and the rest of your supplies.

He leaned over the counter to peek. “Wait. Are we making pasta?”

“Of course.”

“Why would we do that when the box version is right there? In the cupboard, I might add.”

You turned to him, jaw practically on the floor because he even suggested such a thing. “I’m gonna pretend you didn't just say that.”

“What's wrong with it?!” He scoffed.

“Because it won’t be made with love! And you, Lando Norris, need more love in your diet.”

Lando blinked, then snorted. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Very appropriate since you’re the corniest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” You quickly shot back.

His jaw fell. A hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“Good.”

And soon enough, the two of you got to work and, somewhere along the way, the line between “teaching” and “flirting” blurred, though neither of you dared to point it out.

Standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter, the space between you shrank with every quiet moment. You guided his hands as he clumsily kneaded the dough, your fingers brushing his more often than necessary.

The air grew heavy with something unspoken, the sound of flour dusting the counter and soft laughter filling the silence. When you looked up to correct him, his gaze lingered longer than it should have, and suddenly the lesson felt like an excuse to stay close, to touch without reason, and to hide the butterflies neither of you could ignore.

“Like this,” You said softly, placing your fingers over his to press into the floury mixture.

“I am doing it like that,” He complained.

“No, you’re manhandling it.”

“It’s dough!” He laughed, twisting to look at you, his face unfairly close.

“Yeah, and it’s not going to trust you if you’re aggressive.”

Lando tilted his head, the grin creeping back. “Not going to trust me?”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “I don’t make the rules.”

“Clearly you do,” He teased, though he didn’t pull his hands away from yours. You suddenly became very aware of the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, the way his shoulder brushed against yours as you leaned closer.

Your gaze flickered up, and that’s when you realized he was already watching you.

“What?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.” Lando’s voice dipped, quieter than before. His eyes were still on yours, unreadable but warm—too warm.

You swallowed hard, pulling back just a little too quickly. “You’re hopeless,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you turned back to the dough.

Lando didn’t argue. He just smiled, like he knew something you didn’t.

Moving onto the sauce now at the stove, the pasta dough had been cut sloppily into fettuccine, now boiling on another burner. The kitchen looked like the scene of a food fight. Flour dusted the counters, your shirt, his hair—though Lando swore you’d put it there on purpose.

You were focused on stirring the sauce when he came up beside you, far too close for comfort. You could feel him there before you saw him: the shift of the air, the way the space seemed to shrink around him.

“Need something?” You asked suspiciously, refusing to look at him.

“I’m just watching,” He said, voice light but laced with something unreadable.

“You’re hovering.”

“I’m learning.”

“You’re distracting,” You muttered, stirring the sauce a little harder than necessary.

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Distracting, hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

When you finally glanced up at him, Lando was leaning against the counter with that insufferably lazy grin of his, arms folded, hair still tousled from where you’d flicked flour at him earlier. He looked at ease—too at ease.

“What?” you asked again, narrowing your eyes.

“You’ve got…” He gestured vaguely toward your face. “Something there.”

“Where?”

“Your cheek.”

You frowned, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.

Lando didn’t move, but the smile tugging at his lips grew. “Missed it.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Would I ever?”

“Always.” You said flatly, but before you could react, he leaned in—just enough to make your heart catch. His thumb brushed across your cheek, slow and deliberate, the contact feather-light but enough to make your skin tingle where he touched.

It wasn’t fair how something so small could make your breath falter. Your brain felt like it short-circuited, stuck on the warmth of his hand and how close his face was to yours now.

“There,” he murmured softly.

You swallowed hard, eyes locked on his as his hand lingered—his thumb now gently tracing the line of your jaw.

Your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You said, barely above a whisper. “You've been doing it all evening.”

“Like what?” Lando’s voice dropped to match yours, quiet but steady. His eyes never left you, his gaze softer now, something unspoken lingering in the space between you.

“Like you’re about to kiss me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the shift in his expression. His smile faded—just slightly—as his thumb paused at the curve of your jaw.

“…Would that be such a bad thing?”

Your stomach flipped violently, and you felt rooted to the spot.

Every thought in your head went quiet except for the sound of your pulse thudding in your ears. Lando’s eyes searched yours, still giving you time to say no—to pull away—but you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he leaned in.

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank to nothing. He hesitated for just a second, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Close enough to memorize the exact color of his eyes and count the faint freckles across his nose.

And then his lips met yours.

Softly. Gently.

The kiss was tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for you to pull back—but you didn’t. The butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your heart a mess of frantic flutters as you leaned into him, your hands lifting to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt like you needed to hold on to something solid.

Lando’s other hand found your waist, warm and steady, anchoring you as he kissed you again—deeper this time, but still careful. His lips moved against yours with the kind of softness that made your chest ache, like he was memorizing the moment, like he didn’t want to rush it.

You could’ve stayed there forever, standing in his flour-dusted kitchen with the sauce bubbling behind you and the rest of the world falling away.

The kitchen was still for a moment—too still. Your lips tingled from the kiss, the air between you and Lando thick with something unspoken but undeniable.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe properly. Your heart was still racing in a way that had nothing to do with the pasta you were supposed to be making.

Lando’s forehead rested gently against yours, but his presence, his warmth, was too close, making everything feel so very real in a way you weren’t sure how to process.

Then, slowly, with the faintest chuckle in his voice, he pulled away—just enough to look at you, but not enough to break the contact completely.

He was standing behind you now, just a hair’s breath away, his hands slowly finding their way around your waist again, pulling you against him in a soft but secure hug. You froze as his arms wrapped around your body, his chest pressed lightly against your back.

You could feel the steady beat of his heart, feel the warmth radiating from his body into yours. His chin nestled just above your shoulder, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

“Lando…” You mumbled, the words almost slipping from you without thought, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mmm?” He didn’t move. His voice was low, soft—a stark contrast to the playful teasing from earlier. “You okay?”

You swallowed hard, your face growing warm from the closeness. “Think I’m having trouble breathing, if I’m honest.”

His lips brushed the back of your neck, a soft, teasing kiss that sent an electric shiver down your spine. “Not surprising,” He murmured, his tone now laced with a playful cocky edge. “I do have that effect on people.”

“Oh, do you now?” You replied, trying to sound sarcastic, but your voice betrayed you—weak and breathless.

“Definitely,” He said with a chuckle, squeezing you tighter, and you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “I mean, I’m not just a great driver, you know. I’m also pretty good at making hearts race.”

You let out a soft groan, hands gripping the counter for balance as you felt your heart actually race. “You are so cringe, it hurts.”

He grinned against your shoulder, his voice lowering. “Am I? I was starting to think you liked me.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “I don’t,” you muttered, though you weren’t entirely sure if you believed it.

Lando leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing lightly against the side of your neck. “Really?”

You couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Think you and I already know the answer.”

The air between you both hung heavy with the playful tension, but just as you thought it was about to become too much, Lando pulled back slightly, his arms still around you as the sauce seemed to be finished.

“Come on, dinner’s ready.”

like, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated ^_^ !!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox

[retrosabers]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫.

FICMAS DAY 2: BAKING

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when steve comes over to help you make christmas cookies, things end a lot sweeter than you expect.

contains: ooey gooey fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, steve being a flirty klutz, kissing, a tinge of angst if you squint

word count: 2k

a/n: welcome to another installment of “i’m incapable of writing something short and sweet 🧍‍♀️ this is what happens when i revisit writing for my favorite pretty boy

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

“steve?”

“yeah?”

“you’re supposed to be decorating the cookies, not eating them.”

steve’s tone is nothing short of soft and shy when he breathes out an “oh,” between bites of chocolate chip infused dough. when you recruited him to assist in baking cookies for the holiday potluck tomorrow, you didn’t expect it to end with half of them being consumed before they even got a chance to be decorated.

“sorry,” the brunette squeaks, wiping sugar-dusted fingers over the expanse of his very favorite pair of levi jeans.

it’s hard to stay mad at steve. not when he looks so cute, with a tinge of pink in his cheeks and his normally styled hair slightly askew. not when he so generously offered to help you out, and not when he was standing so close.

no, you can’t stay mad at steve harrington, because it’s impossible to stay mad at the person you’ve had a crush on for years.

momentarily distracted, your hands wrapped around the handles of a rolling pin halt in their ministrations, and steve worries that he’s screwed up big time.

but your frozen position isn’t from the slight wrench in your plans. it’s him and those stupid, pretty, big brown eyes, that always find a way to short circuit your brain. even more so when they’re pleading for forgiveness.

it takes another second to remember that you still have things that need to be done. that you promised robin and nancy you’d supply the gathering with your renowned baked goods. with a shake of your head, you’re back in business, waving steve off with a quick flick of the wrist.

“don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, despite the fact that your anxiety was kicking at the thought of having to prepare an extra batch. “just try not to eat the sugar cookies when they’re done, yeah?”

steve’s expression shifts from panic and embarrassment to something sweeter, sheepish almost. when he nods in reply, that rogue strand that always rests against his forehead bounces in a way that almost makes you roll the cookie dough off the counter completely.

this is just because you’re stressed. you tell yourself. you’re off your game today because you’re in a time crunch.

lucky for you, steve doesn’t notice the slight quiver in your motions, instead opting to shift the conversation in another direction.

“when did you even learn to bake like this anyways?”

you perk up a bit at that, a faint smile on your lips.

“every christmas eve when i was a kid,” you begin while simultaneously cutting out little gingerbread men using cookie cutters. “my mom and i used to make cookies for santa.”

there’s a nostalgic kind of warmth that blankets the room while you retell stories of your childhood to steve, who surprisingly keeps his hands off the treats and his attention completely focused on you. on how your nose wrinkles when you mention the year you accidentally added too much cinnamon, the gleam in your eyes that comes when you talk about making them by yourself for the first time.

it causes a slew of butterflies in steve’s stomach, a gallant whoosh that he’s been trying his damndest to ignore ever since he opened the door to your apartment and found you clad in a flour covered apron and with a red ribbon tied in your hair.

it's very hard to pay attention to anything when he’s confined to a cramped kitchen with the very adorable girl he’s had a crush on for as long as he can remember.

“obviously i figured out at some point that santa wasn’t real,” you joke, transferring the cutouts onto a baking tray. it snaps steve back to reality, away from the ooey-gooey ness in his heart that had nothing to do with the residual taste of melted chocolate chips. “but we still do it every year as a tradition.”

steve hopes he’s not smiling like an idiot, but it’s hard not to when you look so happy, so content. “it sounds nice.”

it's absent minded when he says it, and you know it. but that doesn't make the quiet muttering of “wish my folks were like that” under his breath sting any less. you had a general idea that steve’s parents weren’t the greatest, but it was never something he outright said, not to you anyways. this little glimmer of vulnerability he displays, whether intentional or not, only adds a spark in the torch you carry for him.

the oven timer beeping pulls him from mourning what he could’ve had. any falter in his smile is quickly reconstructed as he moves to grab the oven mitts on the counter. something that only makes your sympathy grow.

“i got it honey,” he murmurs while slipping past you, his hand brushing against the small of your back for a fleeting moment.

honey.

it sends an electric shock up your spine that makes you straighten out comically, unsure of any other way to react to his touch that doesn’t involve squealing like a schoolgirl. thankfully, your face is obscured from view while he very carefully pulls out the piping hot baking tray, your cheeks free to turn as crimson as they please.

honey, honey, honey. how he managed to make that word sound even more saccharine you’ll never know.

steve catches you in his peripheral, face redder than your hair ribbon. i’ve still got it, he mentally pats himself on the back. though his suaveness only lasts for a second when he remembers he’s got something scorching in his hand. the brunette drops the sugar cookies onto the counter rather ungracefully, huffing out a curse that makes you giggle.

you think you prefer when he's a little dorky over the pretty boy charm.

as much as steve wants to obey your request to not dive into the sugar cookies, he’s having a painfully hard time restraining himself. that heavenly smell of vanilla is overpowering all self control, an enticing and comforting aroma he’d never had the joy of experiencing until now.

the childlike wonder in steve’s eyes melts away any stress or frustration.

against your better judgement, you walk over to where he’s standing, resting your chin on the edge of his shoulder. if steve is surprised by the act, he doesn’t show it. this time though, the thrum of his heart is hard to miss, noticeable even through the layers of fabric separating you.

“you can have one,” you speak lowly into the cashmere material. “and you have to wait until they’ve cooled down. i’m not taking you to the emergency room because you burnt your tongue.”

steve chuckles at the memory from earlier in the year, when eddie’s impatience got the best of him and he burnt the roof of his mouth trying to get a taste of your baking. he remembers watching that interaction from afar, how you doted over the metalhead when he hurt himself, and it made a vile little twinge of jealousy move within him. though steve always tries to ignore that last part, simply focusing on your kindness. like he was right now.

“i still can’t believe munson managed to do that,” steve replies through his laughter.

the feeling of your own giggles vibrating against him is something he never thought would happen. in that moment, those butterflies in his stomach valiantly escape their cage, a flurry he’s not sure he wants to contain.

all he can hear in his head is robin’s voice screeching, “for the love of god dingus, you need to stop staring like an idiot and just make a move.”

when you suddenly pull away from him, he’s afraid that opportunity is gone. steve’s rather confused when he catches a glimpse of your face before you round the other side of the kitchen island. there’s a shyness in you that he’s not used to seeing. if he’s learned one thing in getting to know you better these past few months, it’s that you hardly ever got timid. only when you were uncomfortable, or scared, and he prays it’s not either of those things.

it’s not looking very good when you turn your body completely away from him.

“y’know,” you begin shyly, toying with the strings of your apron. “you’re more than welcome to come over again next year.”

oh.

steve’s lips part slightly, eyes widening in surprise. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe out, nerves taking over while you busy yourself with the frosting. you’re not really doing much of anything, just mindless fiddling with the bag and adjusting the parchment paper on the cookie sheet. everything but looking at steve.

“just think you deserve to be a part of a christmas tradition,” you say so softly he almost doesn’t catch it. the wholehearted sincerity in your voice, despite its low volume, makes him feel dizzy.

as he stands there, dumbfounded and mulling over your words, he knows he can’t chicken out any longer. not when you were offering a place for him in your holiday traditions. something steve knew you held very near and dear to your heart.

“that is, of course,” you add hurriedly, turning around to make sure you haven’t made him feel pressured. “only if you want to.”

oh boy does he.

steve crosses the room in long, slow strides. partly to test the waters and partly to watch the way you get a little squirmy. your hands struggle to find something sensible to do, but everything is a jumbled mess and you eventually drop them at your sides by the time steve glides into your peripheral vision.

your eyes squeeze shut in preparation for his polite rejection. that he’s going to let you down easy, and leave you to finish all this by yourself.

but you should’ve known steve better than that.

a tender hand wraps around your wrist, the scent of his cologne enveloping your personal space, and the syrupy sweet murmur of that damned word finds your ears again. he was consuming all your senses, an act of reverse psychology that makes you open up instead of run away.

when his hand travels further south, experimentally brushing your fingers together, you can’t hide anymore. there’s nothing you could possibly do to ignore the jolt of electricity that travels through you from head to toe. as your eyes slowly peek open, you find steve leaning against the counter beside you, a boyish little grin on his face. barely a feet of space between your bodies, yet you were buzzing with anticipation.

“i want to,” he says matter of factly despite the airiness of his voice. “i really, really want to.”

a hint of nervousness dances across his features when he utters, “but only if you’ll let me.”

there’s a double entendre to his proclamation that’s undeniable. steve leans closer, enough that you can see just how long his lashes are, how those stupid pretty eyes have flecks of gold in them, how his cupid bow is so perfect, so kissable. enough that you can’t mistake the way his gaze keeps flicking down to your lips. an unspoken permission you happily grant with the slightest nod of the head.

kissing steve is exactly how you dreamed it would be. those perfectly plump lips were just as soft as you hoped, as skilled as the girls back in high school used to whisper about. there’s a confidence behind the way he kisses you, though it’s still incredibly languid and gentle. his hand migrates from your wrist up to your jaw, gently caressing and cradling it with a care no one else has ever shown you before.

you’re not sure how long you stand there for. it could’ve been minutes, or hours; either way you didnt care. the cookies were long forgotten in your mind, having found a new craving that could only be satiated so long as steve held you close and his lips remained on yours.

a laugh bubbles in your throat at the faint flavor of chocolate on your tongue. you discover a new fact about steve that you don’t plan on sharing with anyone else as long as he’ll have you.

he tastes sweeter than sugar.

thanks for reading! <3

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SAILOR SONG

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt have a comfy indoor date; baking together.

WARNING: Making out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

'I saw her in the rightest way'

The kitchen was an absolute mess, a delightful, chaotic swirl of ingredients strewn across the counters, flour dusting the air, and the aroma of vanilla mixing with the sound of their favorite playlist softly drifting in from the living room. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the scene as Y/N stood at the counter, carefully measuring flour into a white-ish ceramic bowl. Beside her, Matt was leaning against the counter, his eyes fixed solely on her, watching her with an intensity that could have melted chocolate.

"Okay, so you just, like, throw the flour in, right?" Matt asked, breaking the comfortable silence, reaching for the open bag with the kind of reckless enthusiasm that spelled disaster.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively darting forward to stop him.

"Wait, wait- Matt, no!" But it was too late. A poof of flour erupted like a mini explosion, covering both of them in a soft, powdery cloud.

Matt froze, blinking through the haze, and then burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking.

"Oops." He said with that boyish grin of his, the one that made Y/N’s heart do a little flip every time.

She tried to glare at him but failed miserably, laughter bubbling up as she brushed flour off her cheek.

"You’re such a mess." She teased, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling.

"And yet, here you are teaching me." He shot back, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Guess that says something about you, huh?"

"Yeah." She said with a mock exasperated sigh. "That I’m a hopeless romantic who thinks you can actually learn how to bake."

Matt just grinned, leaning in to steal a quick kiss on her flour-dusted nose, making her scrunch it up adorably in response.

"Alright, lover boy." Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile. "Let’s try not to blow up the kitchen, okay? I need you to grab the sugar next."

"Yes, ma’am." Matt replied, snapping a playful salute before turning to rummage through the cupboard. He managed to grab the sugar jar without spilling anything this time - progress, she thought with a fond smile.

They continued to work side by side, the kitchen filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar. Y/N would occasionally reach out to correct Matt’s technique, her touch light but effective. Every time their hands brushed, Matt would flash her that lopsided grin that always made her cheeks warm. She tried to stay focused, but with him being so close, so effortlessly charming, it was a losing battle.

At some point, they both reached for the vanilla extract at the same time. Their fingers tangled, and Matt shot her a playful look.

"Hey, who’s the baker here?" Y/N teased, nudging him aside with her hip, her laughter light and teasing.

"I don’t know, I don't see them anywhere." He joked, pretending to search around the room, making her roll her eyes though the grin on her lips was impossible to hide.

They kept mixing and measuring, Matt’s enthusiasm both endearing and chaotic. Just when everything seemed to be going smoothly, he made his biggest blunder yet. He grabbed the baking soda and dumped a generous amount into the bowl, not bothering with a measuring spoon.

"Matt, no!" Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with horror. "That’s way too much! You’re going to ruin the batter!"

Matt looked from the bowl to her, then back at the bowl, his eyes comically wide. But instead of panicking, he simply shrugged and started laughing, his laughter so infectious that Y/N’s frustration began to dissolve.

"Matt, I’m serious." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This was supposed to be perfect, and now they’re going to taste like-"

"Hey, hey." Matt said softly, reaching out to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm sorry, yeah?"

Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his warm embrace. Y/N sighed, trying to hold onto her annoyance, but the way he was looking at her - with that soft, adoring gaze - made it nearly impossible.

As if the universe was observing them closely, te next song on the queue started playing, and when Matt realized that it was one of their favorite - Sailor Song by Gigi Perez, obviously - his body started swaying gently, bringing her with him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying not to smile, her voice softening as her hands found home against his biceps.

"Distracting you." He said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Is it working?"

Y/N tried to stay annoyed, but the tenderness in his eyes melted her defenses.

"You are so ridiculous." She said, but her words were softened by the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Ridiculously in love with you." He murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "Can you forgive me?"

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she let out a soft, defeated sigh, leaning into him fully.

"Fine." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the music. "But you’re still fixing the batter."

"Deal." He said with a grin. And before she could pull away, he spun her around in a quick twirl, eliciting a surprised, joyful laugh from her, her apron flowing around her body.

As she came back into his arms, breathless and giddy, her eyes met blue soft ones, shaking her head.

"You really are something else, Mr. Sturniolo."

"And you love me for it." He replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, the warmth of her against him.

"Yeah." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

With the playful moment fading into a comfortable silence, they returned to the counter, side by side once more. Y/N sighed dramatically, surveying the batter that was now slightly too foamy from Matt’s over-enthusiastic addition of baking soda.

"Okay, let’s see if we can salvage this." She said, her voice taking on that determined tone Matt found so adorable.

"How bad did I mess it up?" He asked, a wince escaping his lips.

"Not too bad." Y/N admitted with a small, fond smile. "We can balance it out with a little extra flour and sugar."

"Got it." Matt said, nodding eagerly as he grabbed the bag of flour, waiting for her instructions.

They worked together to fix the batter, Matt actually listening this time, his focus unwavering as Y/N explained what to do. After a few minutes of adjustments, Y/N dipped her finger into the batter for a taste test. Her eyes lit up in pleasant surprise.

"Hey, it’s actually good!" She exclaimed.

Matt’s face broke into a proud grin.

"See? I knew I could fix it." He said smugly.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N hummed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Pretty sure I did most of the fixing."

"But it was my idea to fix it." He countered, leaning in to press his lips against her warm cheek.

"Alright, let’s get these in the oven before you mess up anything else." Y/N said, lifting the tray carefully.

Her fingers were nimble as she adjusted the rack, carefully placing the cupcake tray into the preheated oven.

Matt couldn’t help but stop for a bit and just stare, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving her. There was something about watching her work, so effortlessly absorbed in what she loved, that made him feel as though the entire world had slowed to a gentle stop just for them.

It wasn't his fault. He reasoned to himself. It wasn't his fault he found everything she did so endlessly endearing, so worth watching with that starstruck gaze that his brothers teased him about. The way her brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers dusted with flour, her lips pursed slightly as she adjusted the oven dial; it all made his heart swell.

Y/N stood up, wiping her hands on her yellow apron and closing the oven door with a soft clink. She turned to grab the timer, only to notice the way Matt was staring at her, eyes sparkling with that familiar, dazed expression. He looked as if he were lost in a dream, his gaze so soft it made her heart skip a beat.

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, she tilted her head slightly and smiled shyly.

"What?" She asked with a soft laugh, setting the timer up. "Do I still have flour on my face?"

Matt didn’t answer right away, his eyes never wavering from hers. It was like he was in some kind of trance, completely mesmerized. After a few seconds, he finally blinked, his lips curling into a soft smile.

"Yeah." He said simply, his voice so low and gentle it made her stomach flip.

Before she could ask where, Matt stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides. His hands found her waist, pulling her close. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin.

"Right here." He dipped his head and began to trail soft, lingering kisses along her jaw. His lips brushed tenderly against her skin, and with each kiss, he pulled a soft, breathless giggle from her lips. The sweet sound made him smile against her cheek, his eyes closing as he continued his path to her chin, and then to her cheeks, where he left playful kisses that were so light, they were almost ticklish.

"Matt." She breathed out, half-laughing, half-sighing, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. Her fingers traced slow circles over his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric.

He paused, hovering just above her lips, so close that she could feel the ghost of his breath on her mouth but not quite touching her. His eyes were locked on hers, and there was a playfulness mixed with adoration in them that made her knees feel weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing her like this.

"Matt." She repeated, her voice a whisper now, filled with a hint of impatience.

"Yeah?" He murmured back, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a smile.

"Kiss me properly." She demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?'

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in just a fraction more, brushing his lips against hers, still not quite giving in. But Y/N, never one to be outdone, closed the remaining distance, pressing her lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss that sent warmth blooming through her chest.

Matt’s arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as their kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Y/N’s hands wandered from his chest to his biceps, squeezing slightly at the firmness there, before sliding up to his shoulders and finally into his hair. She tugged gently, earning a soft sigh from him that she could feel warming up her face.

Their lips curved into smiles as they kissed, each touch and movement so full of affection it made Y/N’s heart feel light. Matt blindly started to sway their bodies again, following the slow rhythm of the indie song, his hands exploring the small of her back, fingers spreading wide as if he wanted to memorize every curve.

Y/N sighed into his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, no kitchen, no baking, just the soft, sweet connection between their lips and the feel of each other’s warmth.

But the intimate moment was abruptly interrupted by a sudden, loud DING! from the oven.

The sound made Y/N jump slightly, pulling away from Matt with a startled gasp. Matt couldn’t help but laugh, the joyous sound filling the kitchen as he pressed one last, playful kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess that’s our cue." He said, still chuckling as he gave her a quick eskimo kiss, their noses brushing together.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she gently pushed him away.

"Goofball." She muttered affectionately, her cheeks still flushed.

Reluctantly pulling away, Matt released her from his embrace, giving her one last, lingering look before letting her turn her attention back to the oven. Y/N leaned down to peer through the glass, her hands resting on her knees as she checked the cupcakes.

Matt watched her from behind, unable to resist the fond smile that tugged at his lips. The sight of her brows knitting together as she inspected their work made his heart swell.

"They look perfect." Y/N announced, turning back to him with a triumphant smile.

"All thanks to you." Matt came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I love baking with you." He whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

"Even if you’re terrible at it?" She teased.

"Especially because I’m terrible at it." He replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Gives you more reasons to stick around."

'And we can run away to the walls inside your house'

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

[hoshifighting]

i enjoy your work so much!!! i love reading new posts whenever you update (which is so frequent and im always in awe of how creative your brain is!!) im wondering if you had similar work to your most recent reaction but with mommy issues instead? giving a tight hug to all my peeps struggling through parental relationships ❤️‍🩹

seventeen x reader with mommy issues

a/n: thank you anon 🥺🥺❤️ i hope you like it, and > giving a tight hug to all my peeps struggling through parental relationships pt.2

WARNINGS: mommy issues, svt mostly doing girly things with you.

seungcheol: cheol’s the type to instinctively take a nurturing role without even realizing it. he’ll remind you to eat, help you pick out clothes for the day, and even braid your hair if you let him. “does this look okay?” he asks, tongue sticking out in concentration as his big hands fumble a little. he’s all about making sure you feel cared for in every little way, even if it’s just holding you close while you vent.

jeonghan: knows how to fill that space without making it obvious. he’s the one who’ll ask his sister to help him paint your nails, gossip about random shit, or let you borrow his skincare products. “c’mere, let me do it for you,” he says, gently dabbing serum on your face while teasing you about how bad you are at self-care. it’s his sneaky way of saying, i’m here for you.

joshua: takes on that classic comforting role, always making sure you feel heard.he’ll offer to bake cookies with you or even sew something small together. “it’s okay to miss her,” he’ll say softly, holding your hand. “but you’ve got people now who care about you, including me.”

junhui: create those bonding moments you might’ve missed out on. he’s the type to grab your hand and drag you into the kitchen, insisting you bake something together even if it’s a disaster. “this is supposed to be fun, not perfect babe...” he laughs as flour gets everywhere. he doesn’t try to replace anything, but he makes you feel like you’re not missing out anymore.

hoshi: his appproach is so wholesome it hurts. he’s the kind to pull you into his lap while he combs through your hair, humming softly. “you deserve to feel spoiled,” he says with a grin, and suddenly he’s dragging you to the mall for a mini shopping spree. “pick something cute, okay? you can’t say no—it’s my treat.”

woozi: his way of comforting you is subtle but so meaningful. he won’t push you to talk, but when you’re struggling, he’ll sit you down and quietly braid your hair or make tea for you. “you don’t have to do this alone,” he’ll say in his soft, no-nonsense voice. sometimes it’s just the quiet, supportive presence that heals the most.

wonwoo: he’ll read to you, help you organize your space, or even teach you how to do things like fixing a hem or arranging flowers. “this is kinda relaxing, isn’t it?” he says as you both work together, his calm energy making you feel safe and understood.

minghao: would suggest journaling together, so you can focus more on yourself, than focus on the house problems. “it’s okay to feel like this,” he says, squeezing your hand. “but you’re more than what you’re missing.” he makes sure you feel strong enough to rebuild those pieces.

mingyu: mingyu goes all in on being your cheerleader. he’s the one who’ll sit on the floor with you to do DIY face masks or giggle with you over silly videos. “do you want me to call my sister?... don't really know what a cut-crease is...” he says with a goofy grin, trying his best to make you feel loved and cared for in every way he can.

seokmin: he s exactly what you need when the weight of everything feels heavy. he’ll pull you into the kitchen to teach you his favorite recipes, or he’ll sit down with you to sew a button back on your shirt. “see? you’re already amazing at this!” he beams, making you feel proud of yourself for even the smallest things.

seungkwan: ultimate comforter. he’ll organize a mini self-care day, complete with snacks, facials, and trashy TV. “no one’s judging you here,” he says, rubbing your back as you tear up. his endless affirmations—you’re doing amazing, you deserve love, you’re enough—are exactly what you need to hear.

vernon: he’ll suggest stuff like planting a little herb garden together or decorating a space to make it yours. “babe I think I planted my ring...” he says, looking at the plant pot that will be all messy in seconds just to find the piece of silver.

chan: he’s the guy who’ll offer to watch cheesy movies with you, paint your nails (even if he sucks at it), or teach you a new dance—and stumbling on his own feet on purpose—just to make you smile. “you deserve to feel cared for.”

[solxamber]

do you think you could write about a white rabbit reader like how did with wild cat? as in the white rabbit from alice in wonderland— who’s more of a polite anxious mess trying to follow the queens strict rules but is kind of bad at it. possibly shy or on the quieter side like a rabbit beastman would probably be, considering most of the beastmens personalities align with their animal counterparts behavior. and for some reason most of the beastmen we see, or even the merpeople, are all predator animals so i would love to see their interactions with a prey animal. for the first time ever, leona would actually be scientifically correct in calling the reader an herbivore. they would also be the only beastman who’s not sorted into savanaclaw i imagine. in canonical alice in wonderland, or at least a majority of its interpretations, the white rabbit is considered a neutral, somewhat villain leaning character. he works for the queen but he’s never outright evil, if anything he’s kind of a coward as he is initially terrified of alice. so i can see reader being mostly benevolent and a little bit of a scaredy cat who’s still relatively friendly. thank you

White Rabbit! Reader x Everyone

Thank you for the request <3 I hope you like it

Character: All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige

Riddle Rosehearts:

You’re always on edge around Riddle, frantically trying to follow the Queen's rules and his. But you trip over your own feet so often that Riddle ends up scolding you almost every day.

"Rule 76: No running in the halls!" Riddle huffs as you scramble past him, dropping a handful of papers as you trip over your own shoes.

You fumble around, trying to gather the papers while stammering an apology, eyes wide and twitching like a startled rabbit. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to—oh no! Rule 17: Never drop important documents...”

Riddle looks ready to blow up, but when you shoot him those big, panicked eyes, he exhales sharply through his nose, the lecture stuck in his throat. "Just… get it together!" he mutters, turning on his heel, clearly flustered. “How am I supposed to enforce rules when you look like you're going to faint every time I open my mouth?!”

In the back of your mind, you wonder if he’d be so strict if he knew you were working for the "Queen." But you don't have the nerve to tell him that, so you just nod and awkwardly salute.

Trey Clover:

You never quite relax around Trey, even though he's the calmest person in Heartslabyul. Every time you’re near him, you’re just waiting for the moment when he’ll ask you to do something scary, like taste one of his experimental dishes or—worse—eat cake in front of Riddle. The idea makes your ears droop.

"Hey, you okay?" Trey asks when he notices you standing stiffly by the kitchen door. He’s got flour on his apron and a knife in hand, chopping fruit with easy precision.

You jump at the sound of his voice and nearly knock over a stack of plates. "I-I’m fine!" you squeak, standing even straighter like you’re in the Queen’s court.

Trey chuckles softly. "You know, I’m not going to bite. Unless I’m making rabbit stew." He winks.

Your eyes widen in horror, ears trembling. "R-rabbit stew?!"

He laughs, holding up his hands. "I'm kidding! Kidding!" Trey seems to find your reactions endlessly amusing, always leaning in with a gentle smile. "But if you need help relaxing, just say the word. Maybe we can make some tea. No pressure."

But all you hear is "pressure," and you feel like you're about to combust.

Cater Diamond:

Cater thinks you're the cutest thing on two legs, especially when you're in a flustered state. Which, unfortunately for you, is almost all the time.

“Yo, lil’ bunny!” Cater calls out as he sidles up to you in the hall, phone in hand. You’re mid-panic about how you’re going to explain to Riddle why your shoes are untied, your tie is crooked, and you accidentally skipped breakfast because you were too nervous to eat.

You freeze, giving Cater a look like a deer in headlights—or rather, a rabbit in a snare. “D-don’t call me that,” you mumble, ears twitching furiously. “R-Riddle might hear…”

Cater just grins, pulling out his phone to snap a quick selfie of your panicked expression. “You’ve gotta chill! It’s like, the 5th time today you’ve looked like you're on trial.”

You flinch. On trial?! That’s even worse! “I-I can’t relax! W-what if I break a rule?!”

Cater just pats your head, ruffling your hair. "Well, I think you're doing just fine! Plus, it makes for great content. Smile, #bunnyfails!"

You want to disappear into the ground. But Cater just keeps snapping pics and laughing.

Ace Trappola:

Ace treats you like an adorable walking ball of stress that’s just begging to be messed with. And who is Ace if not a professional button-pusher?

"Hey! Rabbit!" Ace shouts across the Heartslabyul gardens one day, and you nearly jump out of your skin, spilling tea all over yourself.

“E-Excuse me?!” you sputter, face burning as you frantically blot at the stain on your uniform.

Ace saunters over with a grin on his face. "Oh, sorry. Did I startle you? You’re just so jumpy—like, literally! It’s hilarious!"

"I-I’m not jumpy!" you insist, but your trembling hands betray you as you fumble with your napkin, accidentally knocking the sugar bowl off the table.

Ace bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. "Dude, you’re killing me! I swear, every time I’m around, it’s like watching a sitcom! *This* is quality entertainment!"

You huff, glaring at him, ears drooping. "I’m not entertainment."

Ace just gives you a thumbs-up. "Sure you are. And the best part is, you do it all for free!"

Deuce Spade:

Deuce wants to help. He really does. But every time he sees you looking like you���re two seconds from a meltdown, he panics even harder than you do.

"W-whoa! Are you okay?!" Deuce exclaims when he finds you frantically digging through your bag, trying to find the Queen’s latest decree—or was it Riddle’s study notes? You can't remember because you’re too stressed.

"I-I lost the thing! You know, the thing!" you gasp out, waving your arms wildly.

Deuce pales. "Oh no, that’s bad! I-I can help! What thing?!”

"I DON’T KNOW!" you cry, at the peak of panic now.

Deuce stares at you for a second, eyes wide. Then he also starts scrambling around. "Okay, okay! We can find it! Stay calm! Well—not calm, but calmer!"

You both end up running in circles until Trey finds you and asks, deadpan, “What exactly are you two looking for?”

The silence that follows is deafening.

“Um…” Deuce rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “I... kind of forgot.”

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona knows exactly how to push your buttons—and he does so with as little effort as possible. For someone so calm and lazy, he seems to get a real kick out of watching you squirm.

“Oi, herbivore,” Leona drawls from his usual spot under the shade of a tree. You freeze, clutching your bag tighter as you glance nervously in his direction. “Why are you sneaking around like a prey animal? Oh, wait—you are one.”

You flinch and stammer, “I-I’m not sneaking, I’m just, um... minding my own business?”

Leona smirks, lazily cracking open one eye to look at you. “If you ‘mind your business’ any harder, you’re gonna trip over your own feet.”

You gulp, taking a step back, but he’s not done with you. “Maybe if you tried relaxing for once, you wouldn’t be so jittery.”

“I-I can’t help it!” you squeak, nearly tripping as you scuttle away, ears twitching furiously. “I have to follow the rules!”

Leona watches you run off, chuckling lowly to himself. “Rules, huh? Just don’t drop dead from the stress, or I’ll have to carry your sorry hide out of here.”

You spend the next week worrying that he’s going to jump out of nowhere and pounce on you—but of course, that’s way too much effort for Leona.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie sees you as someone who’s just begging to be teased, and he has no qualms about taking full advantage of your easily flustered nature.

One day, while you’re doing your best to stay out of trouble, Ruggie sneaks up behind you, flashing that mischievous grin of his. “Hey there, Bunny! Need some help with that?”

You yelp and nearly leap out of your skin, sending your stack of papers flying in every direction. “R-Ruggie! You startled me!”

Ruggie snickers as he helps you gather up the papers. “Aw, c’mon, I didn’t mean to. You’re just too easy, y’know? Makes me wanna mess with you a little.”

You pout, ears drooping. “W-well, it’s not very nice...”

He shrugs, still grinning. “What can I say? It’s in my nature. But I guess I’ll help you out, just this once.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice, adding, “Don’t expect it for free, though.”

Your face goes pale. “Wh-what do you want?”

Ruggie chuckles. “Relax, I’m just teasing! For now, anyway.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you clutching your papers and wondering if every beastman in Savanaclaw has it out for you.

Jack Howl:

Jack feels a sense of duty to protect you. Even though he thinks you’re a little too skittish for your own good, he respects how hard you try to follow the rules—even when you trip over them.

“Hey, wait up,” Jack calls after you one day as you’re hurrying across campus. You turn to see him jogging over, looking concerned.

“O-oh! Jack! I-I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” you ask nervously, already panicking that you might have broken some rule.

Jack frowns, crossing his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Why do you always assume you did?”

You blink up at him, ears twitching. “I-I’m just worried I’ll mess up...”

Jack sighs, shaking his head. “You’re too hard on yourself. Look, if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll step in. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around.”

Your eyes widen. “R-really? You’d do that?”

Jack nods firmly. “Of course. You’ve got a good heart, even if you’re a bit jumpy. Someone’s gotta look out for you.”

You smile up at him, feeling a little more reassured. But before you can thank him, you trip over your own feet and fall forward—right into Jack’s arms.

He catches you easily, looking down at you with a raised brow. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You blush furiously, scrambling to right yourself. “S-sorry! I-I didn’t mean to...”

Jack just chuckles softly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, Bunny.”

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul sees your anxiety as an untapped market. He’s confident he could help soothe your nerves—with a little contract, of course.

One day, while you’re quietly minding your own business in the Mostro Lounge, Azul slips into the seat across from you with his signature grin. “Ah, my dear friend. You seem rather... tense.”

You freeze in place, blinking rapidly. “O-oh! N-no, I’m just... trying to follow the rules.”

Azul’s eyes gleam behind his glasses. “Why don’t I offer you a deal? I can help alleviate some of that stress of yours. All it would take is a small favor in return...”

Your ears twitch nervously. “U-um... I-I’m not sure...”

Azul leans closer, lowering his voice to a silky whisper. “Imagine it—no more anxiety, no more worries about breaking the rules. All you’d have to do is sign here...”

You nearly pass out from the pressure, eyes darting around the lounge as if looking for an escape. “I-I think I’m fine! Really! Thank you!”

Azul chuckles darkly as you bolt from the lounge. He watches you go with a sigh. “Ah, such potential... But I suppose it’s not every day I encounter a rabbit so determined to resist.”

Jade Leech:

Jade finds your anxious behavior endlessly fascinating. He’s not one to outright tease—he prefers subtlety—but he enjoys watching you squirm in his presence.

One afternoon, you’re frantically trying to fix a mistake in your homework when Jade appears behind you without a sound. “Oh my, is everything alright?”

You yelp, almost knocking over your ink bottle. “J-Jade! You startled me!”

Jade smiles pleasantly, though you can see a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I apologize. I simply couldn’t help but notice how... flustered you seemed.”

You try to calm your racing heart. “I-I’m just trying to finish this assignment...”

Jade leans over your shoulder, examining your work. “Ah, I see. Perhaps I could offer some assistance? Though I must admit, it is rather... amusing to watch you at times.”

You flush, ears twitching in embarrassment. “A-amusing?”

Jade chuckles softly, standing upright again. “Indeed. You’re quite endearing in your own way.”

You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but you nod meekly. “T-thank you... I think?”

Floyd Leech:

Floyd loves messing with you. It’s as simple as that. Your reactions are priceless, and he never misses an opportunity to make you jump out of your skin.

“Bunnyyyyy!” Floyd calls out, voice echoing through the hall as he chases after you. You speed up, desperately trying to get away, but Floyd is faster, his long legs catching up in no time.

He grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around with a grin. “Gotcha!”

You practically shriek. “F-Floyd! I-I wasn’t—”

Floyd cackles, bending down to look you in the eyes. “You’re always so jumpy, Bunny. It’s fun chasing you! Makes me wanna squeeze you even more.”

You tremble under his intense gaze, feeling like a mouse caught by a cat. “P-please don’t squeeze too hard...”

Floyd laughs again and ruffles your hair. “No promises! But you’re too funny to squish all at once. Guess I’ll just have to keep playing with you!”

You manage a weak smile, trying not to collapse from sheer anxiety. “G-great...”

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim is oblivious to your constant anxiety and thinks you’re just really shy. He goes out of his way to befriend you, always offering kind words and gifts to make you feel welcome.

One day, Kalim approaches you with a beaming smile, holding out a brightly wrapped gift. “Hey, I got this for you!”

Your ears twitch in surprise. “F-for me? Why?”

Kalim laughs cheerfully. “Why not? You’re my friend! And you always look so nervous, I thought this might cheer you up!”

You blink down at the gift, overwhelmed by his kindness. “I-I don’t know what to say...”

Kalim grins wider. “No need to say anything! Just know that if you ever feel anxious, I’m here for you, okay?”

His sunny demeanor is so contagious that you can’t help but smile back. “Th-thank you, Kalim. That means a lot...”

Kalim claps you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking you off your feet. “No worries! We’re friends, after all!”

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is mildly exasperated by your anxious nature. He already has his hands full with Kalim, so dealing with you on top of that feels like another babysitting job. Still, he does his best to help you out when Kalim inevitably ropes you into their social circle.

One day, you’re standing awkwardly at the edge of a party, trying to blend into the wallpaper when Jamil approaches you with a sigh. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You glance at him nervously. “I-I don’t want to cause any trouble...”

Jamil pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re not causing trouble. Just... relax a little, okay? You don’t have to be so anxious all the time.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “I-I don’t know how...”

Jamil sighs again, crossing his arms. “Well, just... follow Kalim’s lead, I guess. He doesn’t worry about anything.”

You look over at Kalim, who’s dancing on a table and laughing without a care in the world. “Easier said than done...”

Jamil gives you a tired look. “Tell me about it.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil is very much like the Queen you serve—strict, elegant, and entirely intimidating. Which means every time you’re around him, you end up feeling like you’re going to pass out from sheer anxiety.

“Why are you slouching like that?” Vil snaps, noticing you trying to fade into the background during a Pomefiore meeting. He points a perfectly manicured finger at you, expression sharp. “Posture is important, darling.”

You immediately stand straighter, ears trembling slightly. “I-I’m sorry, Vil! I didn’t mean to—"

“Hmm,” Vil tilts his head, examining you with a critical eye. “I swear, being around you is like trying to train an anxious little bunny. How am I supposed to shape you into anything presentable if you’re always two seconds away from fainting?”

“I-I promise to do better!” you stammer, sweating bullets.

Vil sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just… try not to look like prey when you’re in front of an audience, alright? We can’t have Pomefiore’s image ruined because someone mistook you for their lunch.”

You nod furiously, completely unsure how you’re supposed to accomplish that but determined to try.

Rook Hunt:

Rook finds you utterly fascinating, like a rare creature he’s determined to observe in its natural habitat. Which is to say, he’s always popping up out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of you.

“Mon lapin!” Rook exclaims from behind you, and you jump about three feet in the air, ears standing straight up.

“R-Rook! Please don’t do that!” you gasp, clutching your chest as you try to calm your racing heart.

Rook just smiles at you, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Ah, but I cannot help it! The way you react—so pure, so genuine, like a rabbit hearing a twig snap in the forest! It’s magnifique!”

You gulp, ears slowly drooping back down. “I-I don’t think being compared to prey is exactly a compliment…”

“But of course it is!” Rook insists, stepping closer and giving you a dazzling grin. “You are a creature of instinct, always alert, always prepared to flee! There is beauty in that, mon ami. And I, as your loyal huntsman, will ensure no harm befalls you.”

You smile nervously, unsure if that’s comforting or even scarier. “T-that’s… good to know?”

Rook’s eyes sparkle, as if he’s just found his next great challenge. “Ah, but one day, I hope to see you without fear, to see the calm, serene smile of a rabbit at rest. What a glorious sight that would be!”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you just nod, deciding it’s better not to question Rook’s eccentricity.

Epel Felmier:

Epel thinks you’re kind of cool, actually. You’re nervous all the time, yeah, but you’re also from a strict background and work under pressure constantly. He respects that. Which means he’s decided that you’re his unofficial partner in surviving Vil’s tyranny.

“Hey, c’mon, you don’t need to be that scared of Vil,” Epel says one day, nudging your side as the two of you scrub cauldrons in the alchemy lab. “Sure, he’s scary, but if you just stand up to him once, he’ll back off… probably.”

You glance at Epel, eyes wide. “S-stand up to Vil?! Are you crazy?! I can’t do that! He’ll turn me into a newt or—o-or make me into some kind of fashionable accessory!”

Epel chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, he ain’t that bad. You just gotta show him you’ve got guts. Or at least, like, fake it.”

You swallow hard, ears drooping. “F-faking it sounds risky… What if he notices?”

Epel grins, giving you a thumbs-up. “Then we run. Fast. Like the prey animals we are.”

You blink at him, half-horrified, half-impressed. “You… consider yourself a prey animal?”

Epel shrugs. “Sometimes, yeah. I mean, what else am I gonna do against Vil? Might as well embrace it. Besides, you’re good at dodgin’ people, right? We can make it work.”

You stare at him, processing his words, then sigh in resignation. “I guess we’re in this together then…”

Epel pats your shoulder with a grin. “That’s the spirit! We’re gonna make it through this, bunny style.”

You still have no idea what “bunny style” entails, but you’re willing to trust Epel’s wild plans—for now.

Idia Shroud:

Idia has never related to anyone more in his life. You anxiety is like looking into a jittery, trembling mirror, and for once, Idia is the calm one—relatively speaking.

“W-wait, you have to deliver a message to the Queen?!” Idia whispers, his hair sparking nervously. “That’s like, a total nightmare scenario.”

You nod rapidly, wringing your hands. “Y-yes, but I’m already late, and if I don’t get there soon, it’s off with my head!”

Idia shivers. “No way. I’d rather stay in my room for a thousand years.” He pauses, then adds, “But, um, if you don’t wanna go, maybe… I dunno… we could… not go together?”

You blink at him, your ears twitching at the idea of hiding away instead. “R-really? We can do that?”

He gives you an awkward thumbs-up, his face flushed. “Yeah… like, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides decapitation… but it’s not like anyone would expect me to be brave, right?”

You both glance at Ortho, who’s floating nearby and giving you the biggest, most judgmental sigh he can muster.

“You two need more courage,” Ortho says, shaking his head. “But I’ll help. Let’s make a plan!”

And just like that, your anxiety spirals back into full-on panic.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho thinks you’re adorable, but he also realizes that you’re a magnet for trouble. So, naturally, he has to make sure you’re safe at all times.

“Good morning!” Ortho beams, floating beside you as you fumble with your basket of letters. “Where are you off to today?”

You twitch slightly, looking over your shoulder. “Oh, um, just delivering some messages… It’s a bit urgent…”

Ortho smiles, activating his sensors. “No problem! I’ll track your location and help with navigation!”

You blink, unsure if you should be relieved or more nervous. “T-track my location?”

Ortho nods cheerfully, a holographic map popping up. “Yup! We can’t have you getting lost in the rose maze again. Remember last time? You were stuck for hours!”

Your ears droop, embarrassed. “I-it’s not my fault everything looks the same…”

“Not to worry!” Ortho reassures. “I’ll make sure you’re in and out in no time! Plus, if you faint from fear, I can carry you.”

The thought of Ortho hauling you over his shoulder while Riddle scolds you is somehow even scarier than getting lost.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus has never met someone so jittery around him—and that’s saying something. He finds it… oddly endearing.

“Good evening, Child of Man,(Hare(?))” Malleus greets, his deep voice echoing through the hallway.

You jump about a foot in the air, your ears standing straight up. “L-Lord Malleus! I-I didn’t see you there!”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused. “I was standing right in the middle of the hall.”

You gulp, trying not to show your terror. “S-sorry! I just, um, wasn’t expecting—um—dragons are very quiet, apparently!”

Malleus raises an eyebrow, then smiles, showing just a hint of fang. “I assure you, I have no intention of frightening you.”

You nod rapidly, ears still trembling. “O-of course, Your Highness! I mean, who’s scared? Not me! Totally fine! Super relaxed!”

Malleus chuckles, and the sound is somehow both amused and terrifying. “You truly are quite… peculiar.”

You have no idea if that’s a compliment or an insult, but you nod like it’s the greatest praise in the world. “T-thank you, Lord Malleus.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia finds you endlessly amusing. He likes to see just how much he can tease you before you pass out from fright.

“Hello, little rabbit,” Lilia says, appearing out of *nowhere* like he always does.

You squeak, nearly dropping your stack of paperwork. “A-ah! L-Lilia! P-please don’t sneak up on me like that!”

He grins, fangs peeking out. “Oh, but it’s so much fun. You jump every time, like a startled bunny.”

You frown, puffing your cheeks out indignantly, but it only makes you look cuter. “I-I can’t help it! I’m just… easily startled.”

Lilia nods sagely, pretending to consider your words. “Perhaps I should warn you next time? Though that might take away all the fun…”

You gulp, trying to decide if he’s joking or not. “P-please do…”

He laughs, patting your head affectionately. “I make no promises, little one. Just stay on your toes!”

Silver:

Silver finds your constant panic a little concerning, but mostly, it makes him tired just watching you.

You find Silver leaning against a tree, dozing off like usual. “Um, Silver? A-aren’t you supposed to be training?”

Silver blinks awake, giving you a sleepy smile. “Oh, hello. Training? Right, yes, I was. I… took a short rest.”

You fidget, eyes darting around nervously. “W-well, um, I don’t want to interrupt… but could you help me? I think I lost the Queen’s letter again.”

Silver nods slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Of course. But first, you need to breathe. You’re more jittery than the dormouse.”

You force a shaky breath in, nodding. “R-right. Breathe. I can do that.”

Silver gives you a thumbs-up. “Good. Just stay calm. We’ll find it together.”

And then he promptly falls asleep again.

You stare at him, exasperated. “S-Silver?!”

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek is flabbergasted by your lack of composure. It drives him nuts—but also, he thinks you’re kind of adorable, like a helpless bunny.

“YOU!” Sebek bellows, making you flinch so hard you almost trip over yourself. “HOW CAN YOU BE THIS INCOMPETENT?!”

You cringe, clutching your ears. “I-I’m sorry! I’m trying my best, I swear!”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “YOUR BEST IS BARELY ADEQUATE! YOU MUST STRIVE FOR PERFECTION, LIKE LORD MALLEUS!”

You gulp, nodding frantically. “R-right! I’ll… I’ll try harder!”

Sebek looks at your terrified face and sighs, his tone softening just a bit. “FINE, FINE. JUST DON’T MESS UP AGAIN. HERE.”

He hands you the paper you dropped, his ears turning slightly pink. “AND STOP LOOKING SO SCARED. IT’S… DISTRACTING.”

You blink at him, surprised. “D-distracting?”

“YES!” he shouts, clearly flustered. “NOW GO! LORD MALLEUS EXPECTS PERFECTION!”

You scurry away, leaving Sebek to mutter to himself, face flushed. “Such a weak little rabbit…”

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo tries so hard not to be charmed by you, really. He doesn’t like distractions, and you’re the most distracting bunny he’s ever met.

“Are you lost again?” Rollo asks with a sigh, watching as you nervously peek around a corner.

You jump, ears twitching. “O-oh, Rollo! I was just, um… trying to find the courtyard…”

Rollo pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve passed it three times already.”

You fumble with your hands, embarrassment turning your face pink. “I-I was just… making sure it was the right one…”

Rollo looks at your big, earnest eyes and sighs again, softer this time. “You’re hopeless,” he mutters. Then, reluctantly, he reaches for your hand, leading you back the way you came. “Come on. I can’t leave you wandering around all day.”

You follow behind him, ears drooping. “S-sorry…”

Rollo shakes his head, not even looking back. “Just try not to get lost again.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “I-I’ll try.”

Neige LeBlanche:

Neige thinks you’re the cutest thing ever. He’s the kind of person who immediately wants to be friends with you, especially because you look so nervous all the time.

“Hello!” Neige waves, beaming at you from across the way.

You blink, startled. “O-oh, um… hello, Neige…”

Neige practically skips over to you, his smile never faltering. “Are you okay? You look a little lost.”

You nod rapidly, trying not to be intimidated by his energy. “Y-yes, I’m fine! Just a little… um…”

“Aw, don’t worry!” Neige says, giving you an encouraging pat on the back. “You’ve got this! I believe in you!”

You stare at him, completely baffled. “You… you do?”

Neige nods earnestly. “Of course! And if you need any help, just let me know, okay? I’ll be your bunny buddy!”

Your ears twitch at the nickname, and you manage a shaky smile. “O-okay… Thank you, Neige.”

Dire Crowley:

Crowley finds your constant worrying both exhausting and oddly entertaining. He’s never seen anyone so concerned about breaking every single rule.

“Ah, You!” Crowley calls out, catching you just as you’re about to dash off with a stack of paperwork. “Do you have the reports I asked for?”

You freeze, turning to him with wide eyes. “R-reports? Oh no, I—I thought I delivered those to Professor Trein!”

Crowley sighs dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. “Of course, of course. Why must I be surrounded by such incompetent students?”

You fidget, looking down at your feet. “I-I’m sorry, Headmaster… I’ll go get them right away—”

Crowley waves a hand dismissively. “No, no, I suppose it can wait. You do look like you’re about to pass out from all the running.”

Your ears droop, and you mumble, “I-I’m not… I’m just… very busy…”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, do try not to collapse before lunch, won’t you? I can’t have students fainting in my halls.”

You nod, scurrying away. Crowley watches you go, muttering to himself, “Honestly, there's no one more magnanimous than me…”

Divus Crewel:

Crewel is exasperated by your anxious behavior. He wants you to be confident, but instead, you’re always shaking in your boots.

“[Name], if you can’t handle a simple potion assignment, how do you expect to survive in this world?” Crewel says, his tone sharp as he points at your cauldron.

You gulp, ears twitching. “I-I’m sorry, Professor… I just, um, thought I might have put too much wormroot…”

Crewel raises an eyebrow. “Too much? Or not enough? Make up your mind, pup.”

Your eyes widen, and you flinch. “R-right! I-I mean, um, not enough—no, wait…”

Crewel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is hopeless.” Then, with a softer tone, he adds, “Focus. You can do this, but not if you keep second-guessing every move.”

You take a deep breath, nodding. “Y-yes, Professor.”

Crewel watches as you go back to your work, and though he doesn’t say it, there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Mozus Trein:

Trein is generally strict, but even he can’t bring himself to be too harsh with you. Your anxious nature reminds him of some of his more timid students in the past.

“You’re late to class again,” Trein says, giving you a stern look.

You flinch, clutching your bag close. “I-I’m so sorry, Professor… I got lost in the halls again…”

Trein sighs, shaking his head. “You’ve been here long enough to know the way, haven’t you?”

You nod, ears drooping. “Y-yes, sir… I just… it’s the Queen’s court day, and I was trying to avoid… um…”

Trein raises an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. “Avoid the Queen’s wrath, hm?” He nods, as if understanding completely. “Well, see that it doesn’t happen again. And try to relax. You won’t learn anything if you’re always in a state of panic.”

You bow deeply, almost knocking over your desk in the process. “Y-yes, Professor Trein! Thank you!”

Trein sighs as you scurry to your seat, muttering to himself, “Poor child… so much anxiety…”

Ashton Vargas:

Vargas can’t help but laugh at your feeble attempts at physical activity. You’re about as coordinated as a baby deer—and just as panicked.

“Alright, everyone! Time for a run around the track!” Vargas shouts, blowing his whistle.

You gulp, your ears already drooping at the thought of running. “U-um, Professor Vargas, I’m not sure I’m… physically… capable…”

Vargas claps you on the back, nearly sending you sprawling. “Nonsense! Every beastman’s got it in them! Even you, little bunny!”

You try to protest, but he’s already started the timer. You stumble forward, your legs shaky, and you can hear Vargas laughing from behind.

“Look at that! The rabbit is really running for their life!” Vargas calls out, and the whole class turns to watch you struggle around the track.

You feel your face burn, but you keep running, heart pounding. It’s either run or face Vargas’s motivational speeches again, and honestly, you’re not sure which is worse.

Sam:

Sam loves seeing you in his shop, mostly because you’re so jumpy it’s easy to sneak up on you—unintentionally, of course. He finds your reactions amusing.

“Hello, hello!” Sam calls out as you walk into his shop, and you jump about a foot in the air.

“Ah—M-Mister Sam! I-I didn’t see you there!” you stammer, clutching your chest like your heart might leap out.

Sam laughs, leaning over the counter. “You’re always so jittery, little bunny. Relax! I’ve got just the thing to calm those nerves…” He pulls out a small vial of something labeled “Relaxation Remedy.”

You eye the bottle suspiciously. “Um… t-that’s not… gonna put me to sleep, is it?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not unless you drink the whole bottle, friend.” He winks. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, y’know?”

You nod, still unsure but grateful. “T-thank you… I’ll, um… take one, I guess…”

Sam smiles, putting the vial in a bag for you. “No problem, little imp. Come back if you need more!”

You nod, scurrying out of the shop. Sam watches you leave, shaking his head with a grin. “That one’s gonna give themselves a heart attack one day…”

Grim:

Grim likes to think he’s the bravest in the group, but even he can see you’re worse off than him in the bravery department. He likes to boss you around, mostly to feel better about himself.

“Oi, bunny!” Grim shouts, jumping onto your desk. “You got my homework done yet?”

You squeak, nearly toppling out of your chair. “Y-your homework?! Grim, I—I can’t keep doing your work for you…”

Grim pouts, waving a paw at you. “Oh, come on! You’re already nervous all the time—what’s a little extra stress, huh?”

You huff, fidgeting with your pen. “G-Grim, I’m already at my limit! I-I’ve got the Queen’s orders, and Riddle’s rules, and now you want me to—”

Grim interrupts, hopping closer and giving you a smug grin. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, you’re a busy bunny. But you know, if you help me, I’ll… uh, protect you from any monsters! Yeah, how about that?”

You blink, considering it. “P-protect me? From monsters?”

Grim nods, puffing out his chest. “Yup! I’m the Great Grim, after all! I’m basically a professional monster hunter.”

You stare at him, unsure, your ears slowly drooping. “I-I guess… that would be helpful…”

Grim smirks, satisfied. “See? I knew you’d come around!” He jumps off your desk, tail flicking with glee. “Alright, I’ll be back later to pick up my homework. Make sure it’s perfect, okay?”

You sigh, watching him strut away. “H-how did I even get myself into this…?”

Grim doesn’t hear you, already daydreaming about what snack he’ll demand from you next. “It’s good to be the boss,” he mutters, chuckling to himself.

You slump in your seat, wondering if there would ever come a day when you’re not running around doing everyone’s bidding. But then again, you think, maybe that’s just the fate of a White Rabbit…

Masterlist

[misswynters]

What a Mess!

featuring. sevika x reader

apart of the christmas special 2024 !

a/n. doesn’t have to be logical (if you don’t believe there’s baking in arcane, idk either) 😭 i also rushed this so if there’s any mistakes sorry :/

The kitchen was a disaster.

Flour coated every surface. There were bits of sugar and melted butter scattered across the countertops. You had gotten so caught up in trying to make the “perfect” Christmas cookies for Sevika that you hadn’t noticed how things were spiraling out of control. A bowl tipped over, spilling batter across the floor, and one of the trays had somehow ended up on the stove. The oven had beeped, and you had been so distracted by the mess that you hadn’t checked on the cookies in time.

You quickly wiped your hands on a dish towel, but it only made the mess worse, as flour clung to the fabric. Looking at your hands that still were messy, you heard a noise. In the corner of the kitchen, the sound of the front door creaking open had you freezing. She was home.

“Sevika!” You called, panic creeping into your voice. “I… I can explain.”

From the entrance, you could hear her footsteps grow closer. Then, the deep, calm voice you had come to adore rang out. “Explain? What exactly are you supposed to be explaining here?”

You turned to face her, trying your best to look nonchalant as she stepped into the kitchen. Sevika’s eyes widened at the sight in front of her. The kitchen was a warzone of spilled ingredients, broken eggshells, and half-baked cookies cooling on the stove. Flour dusted your clothes and your hair, looking like you’d been caught in a snowstorm. A yummy snowstorm.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I leave for an hour, and this is what I come back to?”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Well, I was trying to bake you some Christmas cookies,” you said, eyes wide and innocent. “I thought I could surprise you.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow. “Surprise me?” Her lips twitched into a small smile, though it was clear she was trying to hide the amusement dancing in her eyes. “This looks like the aftermath of a disaster, not a surprise.”

“Come on,” you said, walking up to her and taking her hand, despite the sticky batter that had transferred to your palm. “I got a little… carried away.”

Her thumb brushed across your knuckles as she gave you an almost fond look. “A little? This is a whole new level of chaos.” She squeezed your hand lightly, a hint of affection in her eyes as she looked over the kitchen. “But, I have to admit, it’s kind of cute.”

You smiled sheepishly. “I may not be a pro, but I really wanted to make something special for my stubborn Sevi. Y’know?”

Sevika softened for a moment. “I appreciate the thought,” she said, looking around at the mess again. “Guess we’ll be eating cookies for days now.”

With a sigh, she pulled you close, brushing the flour from your cheek with the pad of her thumb. “Alright, alright. I’ll help you clean up.”

You gasped dramatically. “No! You can’t clean up! You must be super tired.”

Sevika chuckled, her deep voice rumbling in your chest as she embraced you. “I think I can handle a bit of flour. Besides, looks like you really need some of my help.”

You grinned and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best, Sev.”

“I know,” she said with a wink, but you could see the affection behind her smirk.

Together, the two of you cleaned up the mess, laughing about how ridiculously chaotic your baking attempt had turned out. Atleast you were able to somehow make the cookies look decent enough to eat. And when the cookies were finally finished which were slightly burnt on the edges but delicious either way. The you both sat down to enjoy them, savoring the moment.

As Sevika leaned back in her chair, she reached for your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Next time, we stick to something a little easier, yeah?”

You chuckled, leaning your head on her shoulder. “Yeah. But, hey, I think this turned out perfect.”

Sevika looked down at you, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips. “You always know how to make me smile,” she said, before stealing another cookie from the tray. It wasn’t never a perfect Christmas with you trying to bake something that somehow ends up creating a chaotic mess in the kitchen. But it was the one that always brought joy to the both of you.

Plus Sevika enjoyed the cookies.

taglist. @blckbny @ch-bl0gsss @b-lossm @fortluocha @ekkosh @limereance @wolfessa @themostlesbianever @simonapietra @1-800-fantasy @saikikittykusuo @sevikaishot @sugarplumz100 @chaostudi @wxwrites @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @robzo4 @puppyphia @xreadersarchive @boom58 @d3adbrainer @kylorey25 @slutmeoutfortoge @yaeil @sapphicarribean @randomperson291 @mvistl @hellokittyfeenie @literallyimthenerdemoji @nikaachuuuu @prettysupplicant @iamaboringrattat

[powdermelonkeg]

Trying to figure out TP Link's diet based on his environment.

Livestock-wise, we've got cuccos and goats. That means

Eggs

Milk

Butter

Cheese

Potentially meat, but I don't think they get eaten unless they're old. Too valuable otherwise | EDIT: Oh yeah you need to breed goats every couple years to get milk. Add in cabrito veal!

And we know for a fact that Ordon Goat Cheese specifically is a thing. Stamped wheel and everything.

There's also fish

And bees/hornets(? It's called bee larva, but the enemy is a Hylian Hornet)

Useful for bait, but Link can eat them.

Did some more research, and apparently in Japan they eat wasp larvae? Specifically in Kushihara. So I'm counting it.

Then plants-wise we have pumpkins

And...corn. Somehow. I've never seen corn growing, but Link has some hanging in his house, so it exists.

I'm choosing to believe it comes from these plants that grow in patches around Ordon.

That gives us a lot. We've got

Cornstarch

Cornmeal

Corn oil

Corn shoots

Pumpkin seeds

Pumpkin seed oil

Pumpkin flour

Pumpkin blossoms

No source of sugar, but depending on how the pumpkins in Ordon taste, they could be naturally sweet. Like pie pumpkins. Also corn syrup is a thing if it's a sweet corn. So corn syrup needs cream of tartar which comes from grapes and apples and such. It's a byproduct of wine. No corn syrup.

Edit: Malt sugar, though!

Now for hypothetical foods.

Ordon is surrounded by pine trees, so that adds pine needle tea and pine nuts to the mix. I was a little worried about species, but apparently there are a lot of pine trees that make edible seeds, so on the list it goes.

Then there are frogs near Rusl and Uli's house, wild songbirds on cliffs, and a squirrel that talks to Link directly, so those are huntable sources of meat.

Is horse grass a cattail? Maybe? Initially, I thought it was—the ends look like cattail seedpuffs, but the leaves are completely different.

I want to treat them like cattails. Cattails that also are probably the main food source for Epona and the goats.

If we do that, that means, on top of all the other uses cattails have like stuffing and tinder and antiseptic, we get

Roots

Shoots

Ground seeds

Can't find a good match for hawk grass though. Concluding that that's not edible. Equivalent exchange and all.

Side note, how do you think horse grass spreads? It's almost always in groups of two or more plants, so that suggests rhizomes, but the image of Link picking one up to blow and stuffing flying out the end of the horseshoe is hilarious to me.

Up next, there are ferns, primarily near trees. After very careful and way-too-deep analysis of a pixelated fern's leaves, I think it's bracken fern.

Which is mildly poisonous.

And also edible.

On the list it goes!

Then finally, Sera has some kind of herb hanging in her shop.

I don't know what it is. I'm calling it Ordon Spice. Congratulations, Ordon Pumpkin Spice is now a thing.

[desii-baeeee]

ㅤ♡ HUSBAND!LUIGI MANGIONE HEADCANONS

WARNINGS: suggestive language, curse word i guess that's it. Idk man.

ㅤ♡ You met Luigi because he was struggling to parallel park his car, and you yelled out, “Want me to do it or are you gonna figure it out, fucker?” He smirked (classic him), parked it perfectly just to show off, and then walked over to ask if you need any help. (It was his car. You were walking past. Fate said yes.)

ㅤ♡ He’s the guy who looks tough as nails but will 100% scream if there’s a spider in the bedroom. One time, he made you “escort it out” while he stood on the bed yelling instructions. (You married him anyway because he’s hot.)

ㅤ♡ Proposed during a candlelit dinner at home because he knew you'd get suspicious if he planned anything fancy. Mid-spaghetti twirl, he slid the ring across the table with a suave, “So, wanna make me the happiest guy in the world?” (You choked on your wine, said yes, and then yelled at him for ruining the vibe with how casual it was.)

ㅤ♡ If he sees you crying over a sad movie, he’ll immediately start roasting the plot to make you laugh. “Why didn’t they just move to Florida if the killer clowns were such a problem?” Meanwhile, he’s crying too but won’t admit it.

ㅤ♡ He always insists on carrying all the groceries, even if it means his arms are about to fall off. (One time, he dropped a bag of flour in the driveway and mumbled, ‘It’s fine, I’m still strong,’ as if you doubted him.)

You forwarded your hand indicating him to give some bags since he had too many nag in both of his hands. It was a silent command, one laced with the expectation of immediate compliance.

Instead, he shifted the bags from his left hand to his right, a move that seemed deliberate, almost theatrical. His right hand, already laden with the weight of too many bags, now bore them all. And before you could voice your annoyance, he reached out—grasping your hand with an ease that caught you off guard.

Then came that smile. Not just any smile, but the kind that could melt glaciers, warm the coldest of hearts, and disarm even the most stoic. It was pure, unfiltered joy—mischief and charm rolled into one breathtaking expression. The cutest smile humanity had ever seen, or so it felt in that moment.

You sighed, tilting your head to the left, then the right, your disappointment on full display. “Asshole,” you muttered, your voice carrying just enough edge to sell the act.

But deep down, in the space you guarded most fiercely, you couldn’t have been happier.

ㅤ♡ The man is an absolute menace in the kitchen. He makes a huge mess every time he cooks but insists it’s “part of the creative process.” (The food is always delicious, though. You can’t even be mad.)

ㅤ♡ He buys you flowers randomly, but not the typical roses. He’ll show up with a weird mix, like sunflowers and baby’s breath, saying, “This one reminded me of your smile.” (You secretly press and save every single flower.)

ㅤ♡ A firm believer in PDA. He’s got a hand on your waist at all times. One time, a stranger commented on how affectionate he is, and Luigi smirked, “Can’t help it. She’s irresistible.”

ㅤ♡ You once joked about him doing your makeup, and he took it as a personal challenge. He watched three YouTube tutorials and showed up with a fully stocked Sephora bag. (He tried his best. It was bad. But you loved him for it.)

ㅤ♡ Absolutely melts if you wear his clothes. Walk into the room in one of his shirts, and he’s done for. “Yeah, we’re not leaving the house today,” he says as he picks you up and throws you on the bed. (RIP your plans and your legs.)

ㅤ♡ When you’re upset, he sits next to you quietly until you’re ready to talk. No prying, no pressure—just his presence. But the second you say what’s wrong, he’s already figuring out how to fix it.

ㅤ♡ He has a whole notes app list of “things she likes,” where he writes down random stuff you mention. Favorite snacks, dream destinations, weird obsessions—he’s got it all.

ㅤ♡ Once, during an argument, you jokingly said, “What are you gonna do? Leave me?” and he dead-serious replied, “Don’t even joke about that. ”

ㅤ♡ Hates shopping for himself but LOVES spoiling you. If he sees you eyeing something, it’s yours. “You deserve it,” he says, even if it’s something silly like a $25 glitter pen.

ㅤ♡ Swears he’s a big, tough guy but turns into absolute mush around kids. He’ll let them climb all over him like he’s a jungle gym. (You’re not saying it out loud, but yeah, you’re mentally baby-trapping yourself.)

ㅤ♡ Insists on celebrating every tiny milestone in your relationship. “It’s been 100 days since we had our first pizza together!” (You love him for it. Even when you’re rolling your eyes.)

ㅤ♡ One time, you were drunk and jokingly said, “You could totally ruin me, and I’d still thank you,” and he just leaned in and said, “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” (You did not walk the next day. The prophecy fulfilled itself.)

ㅤ♡ Every night before bed, he pulls you into his arms and says, “I love you more than yesterday.” It’s cheesy. It’s perfect.

[p0orbaby]

Practice Makes Perfect

summary: leah takes expert to the next level

warnings: SMUT 18+, strap use, humiliation at it’s finest

a/n: this is all thanks to this

word count: 3.7k

-

Leah Williamson is bad at exactly two things in life. The first is baking, and she’s more than come to terms with that. Flour explodes around her like she’s waging war against pastry itself. Cookies flatten out like they’re trying to escape the cookie sheet, and let’s not even start on the infamous “cake” incident—a tragic day when she tried to make you a birthday cake and ended up producing something more akin to a dense, leathery pancake. She’d given up on baking after that, declaring it a “dead sport.” And you couldn’t argue with that.

The second thing Leah is bad at, however, is still very much a point of contention in her mind. She’s not ready to accept it, not now, and definitely not in front of you. But it’s like an itch in the back of her mind—a constant reminder that maybe, just maybe, she’s not perfect at everything. Leah Williamson is competitive to the point of absurdity. The woman once turned a casual game of Scrabble into a grueling war of wits that nearly resulted in the board being thrown out the window. But you’ve never really seen her so genuinely flustered about something, not until today.

You’re walking into the house, juggling your keys, a shopping bag, and your phone all at once. You were out for a few hours, nothing serious, just a casual hangout with friends, and you expected to come back to Leah lounging on the sofa, maybe scrolling through Instagram or pretending to read one of the books you recommended. But when you step inside, you’re immediately struck by the sound of muffled moaning coming from the bedroom. Your first thought is that Leah’s having a little “me-time,” which is totally normal and expected. She’s not exactly shy about taking care of her own needs, and honestly, you find it kind of hot. So you’re not really concerned, but you are curious.

You creep towards the bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible, but when you reach the door, you can’t help yourself—you push it open just a crack. What you see almost makes you drop everything in your hands.

Leah is in the middle of the room, her back to you, one foot planted on the bed, and she’s wearing a strap-on harness. Your strap-on harness, to be specific. And she’s going at it like she’s auditioning for some kind of adult movie. But here’s the kicker: she’s not actually with anyone. No, Leah is thrusting wildly at the air, the strap bouncing around like it’s got a mind of its own, while some questionable porn plays on her phone, propped up against the mirror.

The scene is bonkers enough on its own, but what really gets you is the look on Leah’s face. It’s the same look she has when she’s watching match footage, analysing every detail, trying to figure out how to improve her game. Her eyes are locked on her reflection in the mirror, her brow furrowed in concentration.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to do. You could walk away, pretend you never saw this, and let her have her… practice session in peace. Or, and this seems like the much more entertaining option, you could let her know you’re there. Before you can even decide, though, Leah spots your reflection in the mirror.

She yelps—a noise so high-pitched and undignified that you almost feel bad for her—and stumbles back, trying to yank the strap off like it’s suddenly caught fire. But the harness is tricky, and she fumbles with it, hands slipping on the straps, all the while staring at you with wide eyes, as if you’ve just caught her committing a felony. The strap, bright neon pink, is still hanging between her legs as she wrestles with the buckles, and it’s bobbing with every frantic movement she makes. You can’t help it; you burst out laughing.

Leah finally manages to rip the thing off and tosses it onto the bed with the air of someone throwing a live grenade. It bounces once, then lands with an almost comical plop, still vibrating, because of course, she didn’t think to turn it off. She’s standing there now, breathing heavily, her face as red as a tomato, and you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen her look more embarrassed in her entire life.

“Babe, what the actual fuck?” she hisses, crossing her arms over her chest like she’s trying to shield herself from the sheer humiliation of the situation.

“What the actual fuck, indeed,” you manage to choke out between laughs, leaning against the doorframe for support. “Were you… practicing?”

Leah’s face goes from red to practically purple as she glares at you, the kind of glare she usually reserves for referees after a bad call. “I was just—just getting the hang of it. No one tells you how weird it feels, okay?”

“Sure, sure. Because thrusting along to porn with a strap is totally normal Saturday afternoon behaviour,” you say, still grinning like an idiot.

“Don’t mock me!” she snaps, but there’s no real heat in her voice. She’s more mortified than anything else, and you can see the way her shoulders are hunching slightly, like she’s trying to make herself smaller. Leah Williamson, trying to make herself smaller—now that’s a sight.

You step fully into the room, setting your things down on the dresser, and take a moment to survey the situation. Leah’s still standing there, arms crossed, looking like she’s either going to bolt for the door or try to strangle you with the harness. The porn is still playing on her phone, some generic, overly enthusiastic moaning that’s only adding to the madness of it all. You reach over and pause it, the silence that follows somehow even funnier.

“So,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “what exactly were you practicing for?”

Leah groans and flops down on the bed, burying her face in a pillow. “This is mortifying”

“Oh, it’s mortifying for you?” you tease, sitting down next to her. “I’m the one who just walked in on my girlfriend fake-fucking the air while watching some questionable porn”

She mutters something into the pillow, but it’s muffled beyond recognition. You can only assume it’s something along the lines of “please let me die now”

Gently, you tug the pillow away from her face, and she gives you a look that’s somewhere between a pout and a glare. “I just… I wanted to make sure I wasn’t terrible at it,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder might make it more real.

“Terrible at what?” you ask, genuinely curious now. Leah’s not the kind of person who doubts herself, at least not openly.

“You know,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the strap that’s still vibrating away on the bed, making a low buzzing sound like an angry wasp. “Using that”

It takes you a second to realise what she means, and when you do, you have to bite back another laugh. “Wait, are you telling me this is the first time you’ve ever put one on?”

Leah’s face is back to that deep crimson, and she nods, not quite meeting your eyes. “You’re the one who usually wears it, so… yeah”

The mental image of Leah wrestling with the harness like it’s some kind of alien technology is almost too much. “So you decided to give it a test run… by yourself?”

“I wanted to get used to it!” she protests, and there’s that competitive edge creeping back into her voice. “It’s not as easy as it looks, alright? It’s—heavy, and it moves around a lot, and it feels weird, and I didn’t want to—I didn’t want to look stupid when we actually… you know”

You can’t help but be a little touched by how much thought she’s put into this. Leah, for all her bravado on the pitch, clearly cares about this, about not screwing it up. But the image of her trying to get the hang of it by practicing on thin air is still hilarious.

“Leah, babe,” you say, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, “I promise you, there’s no way you could look stupid. Even if you were, I don’t know, flailing around like a fish out of water, I’d still find it hot”

“Flailing?” she echoes, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Not flailing. More like… enthusiastically manoeuvring”

“Very funny,” she says, but the corners of her mouth are twitching, and you know you’re winning her over.

“And honestly,” you continue, “the fact that you’re trying so hard is kind of adorable”

“Adorable,” she repeats, deadpan.

“In a sexy way,” you clarify, though you’re pretty sure you’ve lost her at “adorable.” “But seriously, Leah, you don’t need to stress about this. You’re not going to be bad at it”

She sits up a little, looking at you with those piercing blue eyes that are always so full of determination. “I just don’t want to mess it up. I want to be good for you”

The sincerity in her voice makes your heart squeeze. Leah’s not just competitive; she’s fiercely devoted, especially when it comes to you. She doesn’t want to just be good—she wants to be perfect.

You reach over and take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re already good for me, Leah. And I’m not going to judge you if you’re not a pro at this right away. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?”

Leah exhales, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“Of course I’m right,” you say, grinning. “But just out of curiosity, how long have you been at it? The practicing, I mean”

She bites her lip, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “Uh, maybe… two hours?”

“Two hours?” you repeat, eyes widening. “Leah, you could’ve just asked me for help! We could’ve practiced together”

Leah looks at you like you’ve just suggested something outrageous. “Practice together? With you watching me?”

“Why not? We’re a team, right?” You give her a playful nudge. “I could’ve given you some pointers. Saved you a lot of time, too”

She looks like she’s about to argue, but then she laughs, the sound a little embarrassed but mostly relieved. “Alright, fine. Next time, I’ll ask for help”

“Next time?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Planning to make this a regular thing, are we?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her lips. “Maybe. Depends on how well I’ve learned my lesson today”

You grin, leaning in to kiss her properly this time, and she melts into it, the last of her embarrassment fading away. When you pull back, you can’t resist one last jab.

“Though you might want to work on the thrusting a bit more. Maybe start with something less intense. Like a pillow, perhaps?”

Leah groans, burying her face in your neck to hide her blush. “God, you’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you say, laughing as you hold her close. “But hey, at least you didn’t pull a muscle. That would’ve been really hard to explain to the team”

“Don’t even joke about that,” she mumbles against your skin, but you can feel her smiling.

-

It’s a few days later, and the whole incident has officially passed into the realm of light-hearted teasing. Leah’s embarrassment has died down, and she’s mostly back to her usual confident self. You’ve mentioned it a few times, of course, because how could you not? But every time you do, she just rolls her eyes and smirks like she knows something you don’t, which is both intriguing and slightly unnerving.

Tonight, though, there’s a different kind of energy between you. You’re in bed, the two of you tangled together under the sheets, lips locked in a kiss that’s growing more heated by the second. Leah’s hands are everywhere—on your waist, your hips, sliding up under your shirt to trace the curve of your back. There’s a kind of urgency in the way she’s touching you, like she can’t get enough, like she’s been holding back and now she’s ready to let go.

You’re straddling her lap, your fingers in her hair, tugging slightly as her mouth moves down to your neck. Her kisses are hot and insistent, and each one sends a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You feel her hands slide down to your ass, squeezing just enough to make you gasp, and she takes that opportunity to flip you over onto your back, pinning you beneath her.

Her eyes are dark with lust, and when she looks at you like that, all your teasing from earlier feels like a distant memory. You’re breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as Leah leans down to kiss you again, her tongue slipping into your mouth with a skill that always leaves you wanting more. You moan into the kiss, your legs wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer, needing to feel her against you.

Leah’s hands trail down your sides, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. She breaks the kiss just long enough to pull them off, and you lift your hips to help her, the cool air hitting your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. She’s quick to follow, kicking off her own clothes until the both of you are bare, skin pressed against skin, the heat between you palpable.

She pulls back just a little, her eyes roaming over your body, drinking you in like she’s savoring every inch. “God, you’re beautiful,” she murmurs, and the way she says it makes your cheeks flush with warmth.

“Look who’s talking,” you say, your voice breathy as you reach up to run your hands down her toned arms, feeling the muscle beneath her skin. “You’re so fucking hot, baby”

She grins, and there’s that confident, almost cocky look on her face that tells you she knows exactly how she makes you feel. But then, something shifts in her expression, and she hesitates, just for a second, before she leans down close to your ear, her voice low and a little rough. “I want to use the strap”

Your breath catches in your throat, your body instantly responding to the suggestion. You’d been half-expecting it, maybe even hoping for it, but now that she’s said it out loud, your entire body is alight with anticipation. “Yeah?” you manage to say, trying to keep the eagerness out of your voice, though you know it’s a lost cause.

Leah pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, searching your face like she’s making sure you’re really on board with this. “Yeah,” she says, and there’s a determined edge to her voice, like she’s been waiting for this moment, like she’s ready to prove something—not just to you, but maybe to herself, too.

“Okay,” you breathe, your heart racing as you nod. “Yeah, I want that”

Her grin widens, and there’s something almost predatory about it, but it’s not intimidating. It’s the kind of look that makes your stomach flutter with excitement, makes your whole body hum with the promise of what’s to come. Leah’s up and off the bed in a flash, heading for the drawer where you keep the toys, and you can’t help but admire the way she moves, all grace and power, even in the dim light of the room.

You watch as she takes it out, her movements sure and steady, no sign of the fumbling you’d witnessed a few days ago. She’s learned quickly, it seems, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation as she steps into the harness, tightening the straps with practiced ease. She catches your eye as she adjusts it, and the look she gives you is pure heat, her confidence now radiating off her in waves.

When she’s ready, she climbs back onto the bed, and there’s something about the sight of her like this, wearing the strap, her eyes locked on you, that sends a rush of arousal through you so intense it almost takes your breath away. Leah positions herself between your legs, and you spread them wider, your body practically aching with need as she settles herself above you.

She leans down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her hand sliding down your body to tease between your legs. You’re already wet, more than ready for her, and she groans softly as she feels just how turned on you are. “Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” she mutters against your lips, and the raw desire in her voice only makes you want her more.

“Please, Leah,” you whisper, your hips bucking up involuntarily as her fingers brush against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “I need you”

She doesn’t need any more encouragement. You feel the tip of the strap press against your entrance, and your breath hitches as she starts to push inside, slow and steady, giving you time to adjust to the size. She’s careful, gentle at first, but there’s an undercurrent of urgency in her movements, like she’s barely holding herself back.

“Is this okay?” she asks, her voice strained as she sinks into you, inch by inch, her eyes locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

“God, yes,” you gasp, your fingers digging into her shoulders as she fills you completely, the stretch intense but oh so good. “Keep going”

She groans in response, the sound low and guttural, and you can see the effort it’s taking for her to keep it slow, to keep from just pounding into you like you know she wants to. But once she’s fully inside you, once she feels you relax and adjust, she starts to move, pulling back just enough before thrusting back in, setting a pace that’s measured but firm.

The feeling is incredible, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as she starts to pick up the pace, each thrust hitting just the right spot, sending waves of hot pleasure through your entire body. Leah’s gaze never leaves yours, and there’s something almost reverent in the way she’s watching you, like she’s completely focused on your pleasure, on making this as good as it can possibly be.

“Fuck,” you pant, your hips meeting her thrusts as the pressure builds inside you, your whole body tingling with the anticipation of release. “You feel so fucking good”

The words seem to spur her on, and she adjusts her angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. You cry out, your nails raking down her back as the pleasure intensifies, and she grins, clearly pleased with herself.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, her voice low and rough as she leans down to kiss you, her tongue slipping into your mouth in time with her thrusts. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your head falling back against the pillow as your body starts to tighten, the heat coiling in your belly, ready to snap. “Don’t stop, Leah, please, I’m so close—”

She doesn’t stop. If anything, she only goes harder, her thrusts coming faster now, deeper, pushing you right to the edge. You can feel her hand slipping down between your bodies, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that have you seeing stars.

It’s too much, and not enough, all at once, and you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, every muscle in your body tense as you chase that release. Leah’s name is a litany on your lips, a desperate prayer as the pleasure builds and builds until you can’t hold back any longer.

“Leah, I’m gonna—”

And then you’re coming, the orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the force of it, your vision going white as the pleasure consumes you. Leah keeps moving, thrusting through your climax, drawing it out, making it last until you’re a trembling, gasping mess beneath her.

When you finally come down, she slows her movements, easing you through the aftershocks with gentle, languid thrusts until you’re too sensitive to take any more. She pulls out slowly, carefully, and you can’t help the little whimper that escapes your lips at the loss.

Leah collapses beside you, breathless and a little sweaty, and she immediately pulls you into her arms, holding you close as you both come down from the high. For a while, the two of you just lay there, your breathing slowly returning to normal, the room filled with the quiet sounds of your afterglow.

“Holy shit,” you finally manage to say, your voice hoarse from all the moaning. “Leah, that was…”

“Good?” she supplies, a teasing smile playing on her lips, though you can see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, like she’s still looking for your approval, even now.

“Good?” you echo, incredulous. “Leah, that was fucking amazing. How are you so good at that?”

She grins, looking both smug and relieved, her confidence fully restored. “What can I say? I’m a quick learner”

“You’re more than that,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to her lips, soft and lingering, filled with all the affection you feel for her. “You’re perfect”

Leah blushes at that, actually blushes, and it’s so endearing you can’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she mutters, but she’s smiling, too, and you can see the pride in her eyes.

“Well, I would,” you say, snuggling into her side, feeling completely content, completely satisfied. “And I’m the one who gets to decide”

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, her arms tightening around you. “Fair enough,” she says, and there’s a warmth in her voice that makes your heart swell.

For a long while, you just lay there together, basking in the afterglow, the room quiet and peaceful. Eventually, though, you feel the exhaustion start to creep in, your eyelids growing heavy as you cuddle closer to Leah, letting her warmth lull you to sleep.

Just as you’re about to drift off, you hear Leah’s voice, soft and a little hesitant. “Hey,” she says, and you can feel her fingers brushing through your hair. “Thanks for, you know… being patient with me. And for letting me… practice”

You smile sleepily, nuzzling into her neck. “Anytime. Though, I don’t think you need any more practice. You’ve pretty much mastered it”

She laughs softly, the sound rumbling through her chest, and it’s the last thing you hear before you fall into a deep, satisfied sleep, safe in her arms.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Hide & Seek.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: The night with your boyfriend is going perfectly, and you couldn't be happier, until he receives an unexpected call telling him that information about an important case has been leaked to the press, and many doubts about you appear.

Words: 2,5k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of crime. fem!reader. established relationship. angst WITHOUT a happy ending. mistrust and lack of communication. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Again I apologize in advance for this, but I love exploring Spencer's character and his changes. It's so funny to know that the one from the first seasons would never do this but I love him anyway.

Your smile couldn't have been bigger at that moment.

After several weeks of work and no time to see your boyfriend or send him more than two text messages, you finally find yourself humming cheesy love songs next to him and hugging him whenever you want. You had only been in his apartment for a few hours after the universe and all the stars had aligned so that neither of you had to work that night and you could have your long-awaited quality time together. It was certainly much needed for both of you and could be a bit of a celebration for finally getting a raise.

The sweet smell of the candles you both had placed on the table mixed with the ingredients on the countertop, creating a much more homey atmosphere. After much thought, the two of you had decided to make some homemade cookies with different fruits to eat yourselves and give some to your friends. You had always loved baking, especially when it came to desserts, and being able to do it with Spencer was even better. Although you knew he was only doing it to make you happy because he was pretty clumsy in the kitchen.

“I think you have some flour here, sweetheart.” You could feel him running his finger over your face, laughing as he smudged you, then stepping back a little to look proudly at his handiwork. “You look so cute.”

“Really? You want to play, Dr. Reid?”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a menacing look, and made a quick move to smear some flour on him and get on the same terms. But you barely managed to mess him up a bit when he gently grabbed your wrists and planted a kiss on your lips, pushing any thoughts of revenge from your mind.

“You cheated, it's not fair.” You murmured against his lips as you both pulled away from the kiss.

“I didn't do anything.” He replied in an innocent tone, kissing you briefly before pulling away to feed the cat. “I think this kid has been eating cookie dough because he doesn't want to eat his food.”

“He's an unruly kitten, just like his daddy.” You said as you watched Spencer pet him and laugh at your bad joke.

The two of you had officially been together for almost a year, but you had known each other for much longer. A coffee shop tucked away in the middle of town was the best place for an FBI agent and you, a news reporter, to meet and start talking. From the beginning, you knew there was something different about Spencer, and it was much more than the fact that he was the only man in the country who didn't know you because he didn't watch television and therefore the news you had anchored for years. He didn't care that your face was what people saw every day and that put you in the spotlight, he liked you for who you were and how you thought about the world.

“I think they'll be ready in a few minutes.” You reported after putting a tray of cookies in the oven.

You were about to ask your boyfriend where he kept the dishes, but when you turned around, you noticed he was still playing with the cat and you couldn't help but smile at how relaxed he seemed. It had been a good idea to convince him to adopt the animal that always followed you home and peeked out of the fire escape. Nothing made you happier than seeing him happy, so you followed your instincts and noticed that the kitchen was still organized as usual. You may not have lived with Spencer yet, but you spent more time in his apartment than yours and had already memorized how a couple of things worked, though you were afraid to tell him because you knew he had trouble opening up too much and taking such big steps in a relationship so quickly.

All your attention was on picking out the prettiest plates and pots for the cookies when his phone rang over the counter. Your hands were still dirty with flour and dough, so you didn't hand it to him and could only read that it was Penelope before you saw him answer.

“Yes, I'm with her now. We're making cookies, and yes, I'll bring you some. Yes, she says hello to you too.” You listened as Spencer repeated into the phone with an encouraging tone.

You barely listened to his conversation because you were nervous it was about work and that he would have to leave so soon.

“You're out of milk, I'm going to the supermarket downstairs.” You informed him quietly after checking the fridge, not wanting to interrupt his conversation. “I won't be long.” You finished, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before leaving.

He couldn't help but smile like a fool at the kiss and stopped listening to his friend's voice on the other end of the phone for several seconds.

“The full profile was leaked to the press, along with details about the crime scenes.” Garcia's voice brought her feet back to the ground.

“What? How?” He asked blankly, needing to sit down to process the information. “We were very careful.”

Spencer thought the case was already closed, he had filled out the profile himself, they had everything they needed to make the arrest, and Emily had insisted on giving him the night off for it.

“We don't know, but it was on the evening news.”

Wait, the evening news? They were the ones you presented every day. It was strange that you hadn't mentioned it, since you'd just come home from work a few hours earlier, happy about your raise.

“Which channel was the first? Who gave the scoop?” His voice trembled slightly, as if he was a little afraid of the answer because his mind was telling him something he didn't like.

There was a long silence for a few seconds and his anxiety increased.

“You need to calm down and not jump to conclusions.” Penelope tried to be the voice of reason at the time and sugarcoated things a bit. But he insisted that he wanted to know. “She said so...she broke the news a few hours ago and I think that was the first network to do it.”

His whole world seemed to crumble before his eyes again and everything was a blur amidst the feeling of betrayal and bitterness that gripped his body. Every thread in his mind began to connect in just a few seconds, and for the first time in a long time, he hated having that ability.

“Reid, listen, I don't think it was her. Emily said we'd fix it, but you should know before you watch the news.” She tried to defuse the situation, but his words only made them feel more betrayed. “I forgot to tell you before because I didn't want to ruin anything, you looked so happy.”

Since meeting you, Spencer had watched at least a minute of the evening news every day just to see you, and everyone knew it. Only today he hadn't because he'd been busy trying to finish the damn profile so he could get off early and spend some time with you.

“We don't want you to jump to conclusions, we all know her and I don't think she would do this. Maybe it's a mix-up or...”

“Don't do that, don't try to make me feel better when she's the only one I tell about the cases.”

And about absolutely everything. He always talked to you about his dreams, his deepest fears, his hopes for the future, his worst moments, and even things he never thought to say out loud, even to his therapist. All his life he had felt silenced until you showed up to listen to even the most complex thought and his mental discussion of possible names for the cat you both shared and treated like a son.

Since his release from prison, his view of the world and himself had changed. He no longer felt worthy of love or anything good until you came along and insisted on entering his heart and saving him from the emptiness he faced every time he woke up in that dark, lonely apartment that you came to fill with light and the smell of cookies.

It weighed heavily on his heart that the bad thoughts that always haunted him made sense.

“I'll be there soon.” He finished, not paying attention to the thousand and one possible explanations and theories Penelope had given him so as not to blame you for everything.

He ended the call and walked quickly to the bedroom to find your computer for answers. You had been staying with him for several days and always used it for work, so it was on the nightstand. He was about to turn it on when the sound of the front door startled him and let him know you were back.

“Spencer? Where are you? Do you want to play hide and seek?” Your voice echoed through the apartment, coming closer and closer to the room.

There was no movement or sound from him, just silence, until you entered the room and saw him sitting on the bed with your computer in his hands. You couldn't help but be a little startled by his expression.

“Are you okay, love? You scared me.” You spoke as you approached him and took his hand lovingly. “Do you need to use my computer? It's out of battery, but the charger is in my bag.”

The strange thing was that Spencer didn't return your affectionate squeeze, he didn't even kiss your hand like he always did. He just froze in place and looked at you as if he was waiting for you to confess to a crime.

“Is something wrong?” You sat down in front of him and grabbed his chin to force him to look at you.

He looked at you for a few seconds and clenched his jaw, pulling away from your touch as if it burned him. “You tell me.”

Confusion washed over you and you bit your lip, trying to think of something that could have changed everything so suddenly. For a second you thought that maybe something had happened at Spencer's work and he had to go now, but his expression and his teary eyes said much more than that. Something serious had happened, you even thought it might be his mother and your heart shrank.

“I know what you did.”

You frowned at his words, trying to find some trace of a joke in all this. “What have I done?”

Once again, the room was filled with silence and his piercing gaze. You made a feeble attempt to approach him to give him some comfort as he looked like he was about to cry, but he rejected you and moved further away from you. He got up from the bed, put the computer down and looked at you as if he expected you to be the one to give the explanation.

“I don't understand this, baby. I really don't know.” You got out of bed and tried to get closer to him.

At your action, he backed away from you.

“Don't call me 'baby'. Don't pretend you don't know what you've done.”

The problem was, you didn't know what you'd done to give him that attitude. It had only been a few minutes since you left and everything was fine, so it didn't make sense that he was suddenly angry.

“I should have seen it coming before, how could I not, why would someone like you notice me? You obviously wanted this, you wanted to use me to get that raise and have all the fresh information.” Finally he seemed to react and started to blurt out everything that was on his mind without any filter. “I was an idiot to think you loved me.”

The confusion in your bright eyes only made things worse for him. His defense mechanism told him that you were an actress, that you must have known him well enough to manipulate him for so long and not even flinch. It made all the sense in the world that the whole perfect relationship you had was a sham, because he never understood how you, who had the fame and beauty to be with any man in the world, could have chosen him, a former addict who had spent months in jail and had more trauma than happy memories, to be your partner.

You took a step toward him, trying to process what he had just said. “I do, you know I love you.”

“Come on, you don't have to pretend anymore, I already know that you leaked the information I gave you about the profile.” He said after pacing the room a few times, trying to control his anger. “And maybe how many times you did the same.”

“Wait, you think I'm some kind of spy or something...you're joking, right?” You tried to make sense of his words, wanting to believe again that it was a joke. It had to be, or the pain you felt in your heart at his rejection would definitely kill you.

The silence that followed his words was enough to know that he was serious.

“You're the only person outside the team I talk to about cases all the time. And you magically get a raise when there's a big leak.” His every word was like a knife in your heart, digging deeper and deeper. “You even broke the news a few hours ago, you're unbelievable.”

That was too much, and it was the move that pierced your heart with the knife.

“Do you really think the only way I can get a raise is to betray you? That I've been pretending for almost a year that I love you for my own benefit? Do you really think I can stoop so low and that my job is worth so little?” You asked him almost pleadingly, as if begging him to tell you no, but in vain. “Tell me it's not so, please. Tell me you don't distrust me.”

Silence. Lots of silence.

“Please...”

He said nothing again and that was answer enough for you. You loved Spencer Reid like you'd never loved anyone before, but you weren't going to let this go. You weren't going to keep begging him to believe you when you told the truth and never gave him reason to doubt.

“Fine. I hope you don't have to come back to me when you realize you made a mistake and ended up with the best you had.”

The pained look you gave him and the tears streaming down your cheeks stayed in his mind as you left your apartment keys on the table and walked away, closing the door behind you at the same time as the oven beeped.

His smile could not have been more nonexistent at that moment.

[satorusugurugurl]

The Headboard

Summary: when you find yourself in a compromising position, you’re lucky that you’re a hot neighbor who just so happens to be a firefighter, is just next door.

Pairing: firefighter!Toji Fushigurux AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,935

Warning: Language, smut, p-in-v, mentions of sex toys, degradation, name calling, unprotected smut.

A/N: A genuine fear I had often thought about when people tell me this is what they do. Plus, the DILF vibes were strong today.

Fushiguro Toji had no complaints about having you as a neighbor. You’re kind and quiet; you even watched Megumi for him if he needed a sitter. You would invite him and his son to your apartment for dinner, or he would do the same for you. The whole of being neighbors became friendship, and friendship turned into longing. Toji hated it when you would bring home someone who wasn’t good enough for you. He would spoil you rotten but didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

Nothing would be worse than an interaction after an awkward one-night stand that ended with you both not talking to each other because he would be the first to admit that he liked having you over for dinner. He enjoyed it when you came over with cookies or watched a movie with him and his son. If things were to become awkward or standoffish with you, that might be one of the worst things to happen to them in a very long time.

So, he would wait a bit to see how things would progress with you. Maybe once the lingering glances and the accidental brushes of your hands would turn into a little bit more. Perhaps once he better understood you and how you might feel, consider telling you he wanted to be more than friends.

Those thoughts ran through his mind as he sprawled out on his couch, not paying any attention to the movie on the television. Megumi was at a sleepover with his best friend Yuuji. He was all alone, not being stuck at the firehouse on call, filling his quiet evening with boredom.

Maybe he should call and ask if you want to come over; you could both watch a movie to make the most of a boring night. Just as he reached for his phone to call you, your name and profile picture popped up on his phone. Toji answered the phone with a slight grin, holding it against his ear.

“Hey, I was just about to call you. Do you wanna come—”

“Toji, you’re a firefighter, right?”

Your voice sounded breathless, almost with a hint of timidness. “Yeah, you know that. Why did you start a grease fire next door? Do not try to put it out with water; smother it with some flour.” You laughed only to be cut off with a whine.

“Uhm, uh—no, not that.” you sighed, “Y-you've seen some weird stuff, right? Like helped people?”

“Yeah, despite the title firefighter, I’m also medically trained and have helped many people in different scenarios. Why, what happened?”

The silence for a long moment told you to think that maybe, just maybe, the line disconnected before he heard him wince. “I-I need your help. But you have to promise you’ll never tell a soul about this.” A mixture of different emotions currently course through every nerve of his body. He’s concerned that you’re hurt, and his interest is peaked as to what you got yourself into this time.

“Of course, you have my word. I promise I won't say anything.”

“Good,” cloth rustles in the background, “you can come over right now. You still have my spare key. You still have my spare key.”

“Yeah, you gave it to me to water your plants that always die.”

“I don't have a green thumb sue me! Now please grab your medical bag and get your ass over here!”

The tone of your voice had him getting off the couch in a snap.” Alright, be there in a sec.” without you even having to ask, Toji grabbed his medical bag and your spare key.

You're nowhere to be found when he steps inside your apartment. “Hey?” He calls out, smirking slightly. “Fire department.” A squeak resonates from the bedroom.

“In here!” you call out, voice shaky, “b-but before you come in, I will emphasize that if you tell anyone! And I mean anyone about this, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

Toji almost tells you not to threaten him with a good time, but he knows you from the whine that leaves the room. You were obviously in pain, and we’re taking this very seriously. Instead of making lighthearted jokes and conversation to push your buttons, he put on the best professional face before entering your room. The second he looks at your bed, his jaw drops to the floor in shock.

You’re naked from the waist down, your body bent forward, your ass pressed against the headboard. Your knee must’ve gotten stuck between the headboard and your mattress from how you're bent. Making it impossible for you to move in the predicament you found yourself in. Your cheeks are flushed as you averted your gaze, not daring to look at him. Toji was a smart guy; he was able to put two and two together.

Someone was having some alone time, and things had taken a terrible turn.

“What happened?” Toji clears his throat as he trots forward, opens his medical bag, and slips on some black latex-free gloves.

You want to crawl under your bed and cry out in embarrassment. How could you have put yourself in such an embarrassing situation? It was bad enough that you had gotten yourself stuck, and it was ten times worse now that the man you’ve had a crush on since you moved into the building was here helping you! But you would rather him find out what a size queen you were than call the fire department.

“I uhm, the uh—” you motion back to your headboard where your thrusting toy was stuck to your headboard. “It hit—my cervix hard, and I jumped, and my knee slipped between my mattress and my headboard.”

“Huh—okay, just try to relax a bit. I will look into getting that knee out first.” He gets on the bed behind you before gently grabbing your knee. As he does, the movement causes you to slide further down the toy, causing it to hit your cervix for a second time. The sharp, pleasurable pain can be felt from the tips of your toes to your head as you let out a pained moan. “Sorry.” Toji’s voice sounds more profound and more fierce. That you had never heard before; it was a voice that made every nerve in your body slowly awaken with lust.

“I-It’s okay—”

He gently moves your leg again, freeing it slightly. “So,” he goes with the questions when you were sure he was going to ask, “your boyfriend busy or something?” His question held no humor to it; instead, it was pure curiosity, and his voice made the nerves that reignited tingle with anticipation.

“What boyfriend? Who said I had a boyfriend?”

Toji glances at the curve of your ass, admiring the arch of your back, before he goes back to gently moving your leg. “Oh, I just assumed a pretty thing like you had one.” His hand gently grumps your ass as he maneuvers your leg a little bit more to the left, freeing it another inch.

“Do you honestly think if I had a boyfriend, I would’ve stuck a dildo to my headboard?”

“Hey, to each their own. So, no boyfriend?”

“Yep, single and ready to mingle. I let my friend convince me to try this position. She said it would liven up my solo sessions.” For as long as you can remember, the only way you masturbated was on your back. When you had mentioned this to your friends, they had been mortified, telling you there was more than one way to get yourself off. You so stupidly let them talk you into buying this stupid, expensive dildo and decided to give it a shot. That shot ended up with your knee stuck between your mattress and the wall and having to rely on your neighbor to help you.

“Hm,” Toji gave your ass a firm squeeze before gently pushing you forward off the toy a couple of inches, drawing out the sweetest sounds from your throat. “Would now be an inappropriate time to ask you out?”

A choked sound of shock cut off the moan that had begun to rise in your throat. There was no way he had just asked you out on a date—your hot neighbor. The sexy firefighter next door asked you on a date. Was this a prank? Oh god, why did he have to ask you out now, of all times? Despite the searing embarrassment, you can’t help but giggle, turning to look back at the massive man.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think you’re hot and good with my kid; plus, I can make you feel so much better than this stupid toy.”

Heat began to pool in your abdomen as you continued to watch him carefully. “Oh, is that so?” he pulls his hand away from the fat of your ass, only to bring it back down, slapping it, making you help in pleasure and surprise.

“It's a fucking promise.” The tip of his pink tongue runs over the scar on his lip. “So, dinner?”

You laugh breathlessly, throwing your head back as he massages the sting out of your ass. “Would you be opposed to me counteroffering that?” Toji hand on your leg gently moves another inch, freeing you from the abyss you had been stuck in.

“Well, that depends on what your counteroffer is?”

The muscles in your leg burn with relief as you stretch it out, getting the blood flowing to it. Toji watches with dark eyes as you slowly in yourself off of the 9-inch toy that’s coated in your slick arousal. The sight of the coral-colored silicone covered in your wetness has his throat so dry it hurts.

“My counteroffer is that we skip the first date, and you help me with my current problem. You are a firefighter. It’s your job to help people.”

“Oooh, are you asking me to fuck you right now?”

“Maybe~ if I were to ask you to do just that, what would you say?” When you turn your head to look at him, your face is quickly snatched in his hands. His hand grips your chin tightly towards his mouth.

“I would say it’s about fucking time.”

His lips slam against yours in a symphony of desperation and need. He quickly shifts behind you, pushing you towards the center of the bed and away from the cavern you had found yourself trapped in moments before. The entire time he moves you, his lips never leave yours. It’s a messy open-mouth kiss, with tongue and groping hands as he releases his grip on your face, panting heavily as a string of saliva connects your lips.

“Do you know how hard it’s been trying to control myself? I try so hard to be a good, friendly neighbor. One that doesn’t come off as a creep.” he positions himself behind you down his gray sweatpants, spraying his thick fat cock. “Let me tell you, it’s been fucking hard; you are so goddamn fucking beautiful. Smart, funny, a great cook.”

You grip the sheets underneath you as he continues his confession. He told you how much he admired your strength and beauty. The pure admiration and raw need that’s in his voice makes your pussy clench, your arousal seeping out of your twitching hole. God, you knew you liked him, but knowing he was so damn bad for you, made you want him even more.

“I need you to fuck me.” There’s no doubt in your words that's precisely what you wanted. The word ‘want’ isn’t even included in your sentence! You didn't like this, and you needed it on a physical level.

“Yeah~? Need me to fuck that tight slutty hole?” His hands connect with your ass again, so smacking it hard, leaving a faint hand print in its wake. “Is that what you need, baby~?”

“Yes!” you shake your ass in front of him, dropping down low, revealing your wet hole to him as if trying to convince him to hurry the fuck up.

“Mhmm, that's a good little slut; tell me exactly what she wants; no, wait, I’m sorry, what she needs.” he grabs his thick cock in one hand. Toji held his cock, smacking it over your pussy. “And she claims that she needs my cock.”

You rock your hips back, fingers digging into the sheets as your chest heaves in anticipation of being filled to the brim by human flesh and not cold silicon. “Yes, please.” Toji tsks behind you giving your pussy, another sharp slap with his cock, the tip snagging at your entrance before he rubs it over your clit.

“Nah, I think you could do better than that. Try again to tell me what it is that you want.”

“I need you!” you cry out loud this time, shutting your eyes and anticipation of him thrusting inside of you, just feeling the head of his cock snag over your clit for the second time. “Please, Toji! Please, please, please.”

Grabbing the base of his thick, heavy cock, he gently presses it over your entrance over your slick hole. “Please, what baby girl~? Use your words, big like pretty little slut you are.” this was an absolute tort. Having your kit in your pussy, teased with nothing but finger-like touches, have you jerking and writhing against the bed.

“Please fuck me, Toji!” you screamed, not having to worry about your next-door neighbor complaining about the noise.

“That's a good girl.” Toji slapped your ass with a snarl, gripping the skin and spreading your cheeks. “I always knew you were a good girl. Always so sweet and friendly, the perfect innocent neighbor next door. but who would’ve thought that you would be fucking a toy against your headboard.” He spits his words before suddenly burying his cock fully into you.

You screamed out loud as his cocked stretched you like you'd never been stretched red d before, sending your eyes rolling back. "Nnngh~! Mmph~ Toji!"

“Fuck-Ngh.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls convulse around him. "You feel so good, baby. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit—being inside of you was so worth the wait!”

“Oooh fuck~!” Toji’s hands press into the middle of your back, pushing your shoulders down further into the mattress, allowing your back to be pushed down, beautifully showing the curves of your body for him. “Just like that, Toji, fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“Oh, I’m not stopping until you’re crying. Your in need a good dicking down since you weren’t able to finish, I’m assuming.”

“Y-Yes!” You cry out, gripping the sheets tighter as you rock your hips back into his. “Yes, I want to cum so bad~!”

“Oh, I know you do, baby,” Toji smirked as he pushed you by your shoulders down into the bed, thrusting deep and hard.

His cock continues to hit your g-spot and your cervix, but his warm hot tip is nothing compared to the silicone. You had been using it earlier. So your eyes roll back. "Oh fuck! ~!" At this rate, you weren't going to last very long.

“Hoooly fuck.” Toji moaned, feeling your walls flutter around him as your legs started to tremble. "Fuck-Ngh. You’re about to cum. Fuck—baby, baby! Shit--I’m going to fucking fill you up. Is that okay?” he didn’t give you much time to answer as he angled his hips, thrusting precisely against that sponge spot inside of you. The one that had you seeing stars as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You whimpered loudly, turning to desperately kiss Toji as you squirted all over cock. "Ah~! Nnngh!!" your eyes rolled back as your body convulsed with the waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck! Fuckfuck—M’ cumming, I—Ahhh ahah—nngh!" Toji doubled over, his forehead pressing into your back as he kept cumming, releasing the months of pent-up desire into you.

He collapsed on top of you quickly, putting his arms out on either side of your smaller frame, bracing his weight upon them in an attempt not to crush you. You painted happily, grinning as you turned your head to stare up at the flushed, sweat-coated man who had fucked you thoroughly. He smirked, his scar stretching as his lips curled up.

His smirk, however, is short-lived as you push back against him, causing him to slip out of you as his back lands against your mattress. As he blankly waters, it allows you to straddle his hips, dribble, drop combined cum, and rub all over his dick as you so lewdly rub your pussy up and down on him. “I hope you have more where that came from because I’m far from being done with you, sir.”

“Hey,” he smirked, putting both his hands behind his head as he watched your position, his cock at your entrance. “Im a firefighter have pretty good fucking stamina. Let’s see what you got.” Little did he know you were a fire that could not so easily be put out. Not that he was complaining.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[vxmpyree]

NIKTO BEING SWEET AND SMITTEN WITH HIS SPOUSE ?!?!?!!? PLEASE 🙏❤️🙏🙏🙏 I SHALL BE DOWN ON MY KNEES WAITING SIRE PLEASE AND THANK YOU

omg my first ask :D! yap about pining nikto ♡ ♡ if i portray DID in a way that’s wrong/offensive, please let me know

[ join me in death - HIM ]

sometimes, nikto is not present.

he will sit next to you, yes, but it is not always him. the two of you could be sitting down over hot pelmeni. the next thing he knows he’s “waking up” to you laying on his chest, tracing soft shapes into the bulging muscle of his bicep as you whisper about something completely foreign to him. 

the other parts of nikto are not opposed to you being his choice of partner. some of them like you just as much as he does, indulging in your slow, well-meaning touches. but when a certain alter fronts, he comes back to find you refusing to even look at him with your bleary eyes. when you notice that it’s him again, you reach out to hold him, mumbling about the things they said and did.

he loves to sit by your side as you watch russian cartoons or soap operas, repeating what they say beneath your breath as you jot down new words. sometimes, he'll pick on you and pretend that he can't hear you or that you said a word terribly wrong, having you scrambling to defend yourself.

when he is at work, things are different. he cannot be merciful and tender like he is with you with the enemy.

sometimes, it’s hard for him to switch out of that cold headspace. he swats your open arms away as he tracks mud into the home, not caring to answer your forlorn calls. it isn’t until hours later, just before you’re about to go to bed, that he reaches out with a gentle hand. you fold every time, never holding it against him. you are just the amount of quick to forgive and understanding that he needs.

the way he gushes over you is insufferable to his team. when they aren’t hard at work, he’s reading letters from you over and over, showing them your pathetic attempt at russian. it’s cute to him, the slants where they shouldn’t be and unclosed circles. but you have shown that learning about his culture matters, so it does not feel insincere or lazy.

you are too kind to nikto. it is difficult for him to look at you when you beam at him, hands covered in flour as you make him blinis. from scratch! you found a different way to make fucking blinis all because he doesn’t like sourdough. 

as strange as it feels for nikto to acknowledge it, you love him. at first, he was in denial. those hot meals accompanied by light touches for him to fall asleep to could be casual. he’s seen people go above and beyond, only to pin it as something light-hearted and simple. after you said it for the umpteenth time, he started to consider that maybe you did love him.

nikto seldom says that he loves you. he does not bother chatting your ear off about how he feels. that’s your job; unless you tell him things in explicit detail, he doesn't know. no, he’s more for lifting you because something is a little too high in the cabinet, or fixing your wobbly desk leg. and if he really feels that you need a reminder of how much he loves you, he will whisper it to you in tow of a quick kiss or tight hug.

[shojizbae]

Yeehaw!

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position

Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.

"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.

"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."

"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers

"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."

"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.

"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.

But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.

I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.

"Hey, Spencer, check this out."

"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes

"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.

"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"

"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"

"I'm just curious."

"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.

"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."

"You asked." He sasses

Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.

I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.

"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips

"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow

"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks

"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"

"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team

Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.

As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.

"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.

"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify

"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.

"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.

"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands

"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."

"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."

"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.

"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.

Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.

"You ready, little girl?" He asks

"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.

one Mississippi

The bull speeds up

'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure

two Mississippi

It starts going sideways

three Mississippi

I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip

four Mississippi

I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer

five Mississippi, six Mississippi

My heart starts to thump against my ribs

Seven Mississippi, I win.

The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.

'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.

"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question

"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"

"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck

"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd

"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt

"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.

"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek

"C'mon, you paid for it."

"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."

"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest

"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip

"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt

"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."

"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table

"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.

"Uh sure," He swallows

"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.

"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.

"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."

"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease

"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips

"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back

"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.

"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.

"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face

"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.

"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me

"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."

"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.

"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.

"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears

"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"

"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.

"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"

"Yes, (Y/n)?"

"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"

"No,"

"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"

"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm

"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."

"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."

"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.

"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."

"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat

"I've got more," I whisper playfully

"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.

"There's some text under my boobs."

"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"

"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.

"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.

"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."

"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off

"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie

"No (Y/n),"

"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away

"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart

"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.

"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."

"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.

"C6H12O6?"

"Yeah, you remember what that means?"

"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"

"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.

"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.

He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.

"Spencer!' I moan in shock

"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.

With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.

"Spenc- Uh"

"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.

"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.

"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over

"There's other people around, Spencer."

"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.

"Sit still." He commands

Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.

"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.

It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.

"How are you doing? Was that any good?"

"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.

"Spencer?" I ask slowly

"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth

"I'm gonna fuck you now,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.

"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease

"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.

"Yeah, and now you will be."

I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.

"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.

"How are you doing, Reid?"

"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.

"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.

"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.

"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.

"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers

"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.

"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."

"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.

"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.

"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.

[gublernatural]

Apple Spice Cake ❆ Aaron Hotchner

☃︎ SUMMARY: you and aaron attend the BAU christmas party and get some alone time after. part three of the baked goodies series.

☃︎WARNINGS: mainly smut MDNI, oral (fem receiving), fingering, piv, dirty talk, mentions of drinking, i think that's it lmk if i missed anything

☃︎NOTE: i was under the influence of prescription flu medicine the whole time i wrote this so if it is bad or there are mistakes i apologize. i also apologize for this being a week late, i was basically dead from the flu.

swiftmas materlist ❅ baked goodies ❅ cheese danishes

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“Under the mistletoe, watching the fire flow, and telling me, ‘I love you’. Just being in your arms takes me back to that little farm, where every wish comes true.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned, one last time, smoothing your hands over the red fabric that adorned your body. Aaron laughed from behind you, placing his hands on your hips. “Yes, my love, I am sure.” 

You weren’t sure if it was the holiday air or if Aaron being off for a whole week was boosting his mood, but you were not complaining. He had been so kind, so loving, recently, and it was turning your heart into mush. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, checking you out in the mirror one last time, before disappearing to find Jack and make sure he was dressed and ready.

You made your way to the kitchen, going to put your finishing touches on the cake you had made to bring with you. You had also baked a few sugar cookies and a small tray of brownies to take to the party. Everything was laid out neatly, each decorated with a Christmas icing and sprinkles.

“Can I have one yet?” Jack groaned as he made his way into the kitchen. He looked absolutely adorable, dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater and with a red beanie on his head. “We both know the answer to that,” You laughed at him. You had spent the last 24 hours telling him he had to wait until you all arrived at Rossi’s house, but he could not take no for an answer.

Aaron joined you and Jack in the kitchen, each of you grabbed a dessert, and you made your way out the door. Jack was in charge of protecting the cookies and the brownies while Aaron drove, and you held onto the prized possession: the gorgeous apple spiced cake. The drive was filled with Christmas music playing on the radio and jokes being thrown around.

You couldn’t be happier with the way life turned out after your and Aaron’s conversation. It had been about a month, cases for Aaron had slowed down, and you and Jack were building a relationship. Aaron had told him you were his girlfriend and he was very accepting of it. You didn’t want to replace his mom, just be another woman he could turn to when he needed. Everything was going well.

The Christmas party will be your first time officially meeting Aaron’s team. He had talked about them a ton, telling you how they are his family, the way they were there for him when Haley passed, how they helped with Jack when he needed someone to, and the pivotal role they had when he returned from witness protection. You had a lot to live up to and you did not want to blow it.

So, safe to say, you were a bit nervous. You knew at the end of the day Aaron loved you and you knew nothing could change that, but you wanted a good first impression. Hence, the massive amount of desserts and the expensive red dress you adorned.

Aaron made his way to the passenger side of the car, grabbing the cake from you so you could step out of the car and not stumble in the boots you wore. You took the cake back from him, wanting to present it yourself. With desserts in hand, you three marched up to David Rossi’s door, allowing Aaron to knock. “You know you don’t have to knock,” An older man, whom you figured was Rossi, said as he opened the door. He had a glass of wine in his hand, with a towel thrown over his shoulder, and flour spots covering his black t-shirt. It was an oddly familiar sight.

Rossi held the door open as you all piled through. You stood confidently behind Aaron, looking around at his ginormous house. “Where can I sit this?” You asked, lifting the cake for emphasis. “Y/N!” Rossi cheered. “Hello, Mr. Rossi,” You blushed, withdrawing farther behind Aaron, not being comfortable with all of the attention. Leading you to the kitchen, Rossi uses his hand to brush you off, “Drop the Mr., too formal for me.” You giggled, “Yes, sir.”

“Y/N!” He scolded, clearing a spot on the counter for your cake, “Stop with the formalities,” You were laughing at him again. You carefully sat the cake down, not wanting to mess it up. Jack and Aaron followed you in, with a blonde lady trailing behind them. “Is she here?” You heard her question from behind Aaron, presuming she was talking about you. “She is,” Aaron laughed, “Don’t scare her away.”

Listening to Aaron laugh was something the team was still getting used to. It had become more frequent in the past month, but there were no complaints coming from them.

“She’s going to love me,” Penelope hushed Aaron, before turning to you. “Hi!” She practically squealed, immediately pulling you in for a hug. “I’m Penelope Garcia, residential tech nerd of the BAU.” She introduced when she pulled away, giving you a silly salute. “You’re scaring her,” Rossi piped in from where he was finishing the food prep. Everyone in the kitchen let out a laugh.

After a few more minutes of playful banter, Penelope was dragging you away, to Rossi’s large dining room. “Look who I found!” She was squealing again, pulling you by your hand to sit down next to her. You’re met with a few more faces, not knowing who was who. The only one you could place from Aaron’s rambling was Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius of the group. He was easily recognizable by his flowing hair, resembling a boyband member, just as Aaron had said.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You sheepishly introduce yourself, giving the table a small wave. Your head follows around the table as everyone introduces themselves. JJ, Will, Henry, Michael, Spencer, Luke, Emily, Matt, Kristy, and Krystall. After introductions, you all were sent into a fit of laughter as Jack rushes in to greet Henry. They take off quickly, going to get into something (that you know is definitely your brownies).

It doesn’t take long for Aaron and Rossi to join you at the table, allowing dinner to start. After introductions, the conversation flowed naturally. You passed around different pastas and sauces, which all tasted delicious, and sipped on expensive wines.

Aaron was quite tipsy, having not had alcohol in quite a bit. His hand was comfortably on your thigh as everyone relaxed before dessert. His body weight was leaning into you, but you were not complaining at all. You all sat there for a while, just chatting. It wasn’t until Jack reappeared at your side, whispering, “Can we have dessert now?” With a chuckle you rose from your chair to go cut the cake.

You loaded desserts up, moving them from the trays you’d brought them in to platters Rossi had left out for you. Jack helped you carry them in, with Henry following closely behind with a stack of small dessert plates and a cup of small forks. “Ooooooh!” Luke cooed as you arrived in the dining room. Everyone dipped into their favorites, earning you tons of praise.

“You’re pretty when you blush,” Aaron slurred in your ear as everyone ate. “Thank you,” You replied, sheepishly, not used to him complimenting you in public. “I’m gonna make you blush more later,” He lowered his voice, once again returning his hand to your thigh. He moved it higher up as he continued, “When it’s just you and me.”

“Just us?” You asked, knowing Jack was supposed to be going home with you. As much as you wanted to enjoy his drunken attempts at dirty talk, you were nervous about the people around and focusing on the technicalities. Aaron’s face was practically in your neck as he answered, “Mhm, Jack’s going to JJ’s. Just gonna be us tonight.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he returned to an upright position.

“Everyone full?” Rossi asked after clearing the table of empty plates. Everyone let out an exaggerated sound of agreement, with Matt’s “Yes, Sir,” sticking out amongst the crowd. Rossi moved to light his fireplace, and then reached for a deck of cards.

That’s how the night ended, with different card games and bets made, lit up by Rossi’s fireplace. It was a nice time, and gave Aaron time to sober up quite a bit.

“Night, Hotch,” Emily called as you two walked out the door. You had been dismissed with hugs and promises of a girls night, so Aaron’s goodbyes paled in comparison. Aaron opened the passenger side door for you before claiming his spot in the driver’s seat. “You had a good night?” He asked as he buckled up and returned his hand to your thigh, for probably the thousandth time tonight. “I did, but you better get my brownie pan back from Dave. That’s my nice one,” You teased. Aaron smiled, “I will, I will.”

The drive was peaceful, with Christmas music filling the car and Aaron rubbing soft circles on your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder if Aaron recalled the promise he’d made to you when he was much drunker than he is now. You could feel your panties getting wetter as you thought about it, his touch doing nothing but fueling the dirty thoughts in your brain.

“You need to run over and grab anything?” With your houses being so close, you didn’t have much stuff at Aaron’s house. You usually opted for his clothes anyways, so you gave him a nod, and marched into his home. Aaron followed closely, resting his hand on your hip as he reached from behind you to insert his key. You held the door for him as you walked in.

You had hardly gotten your shoes off before Aaron’s hands were back on your hips. He pulled you close, holding you up against his torso. “You looked so pretty,” He murmured, moving to press hard kisses into your neck, “In your dress.”

You turned yourself around so you could wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him on his lips. “And you looked quite handsome,” You gushed, emphasizing the statement with a kiss to his cheek. It wasn’t very often that you were the one who got to love on Aaron, so you took your chances when he let you. 

You stepped away, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the bedroom. You sat him down on the edge before moving to straddle him. You could feel his hardened cock against your wet core. His hands wrapped around your waist, once again pulling you close. Aaron kissed you with a fervor, showcasing all of the love he held for you. It was slow, your lips slotting together, his hands continually trying to pull you close. It was all he wanted. You. You. You.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, switching you so that you were laying at the top of the bed. His hands moved to pull down your dress and he helped you lift your midsection so he could get it all the way off. That left you in the red bra and white panties you’d chosen. You weren’t planning on having a night like this, but you opted to keep the Christmas spirit as you’d gotten dressed.

Aaron’s eyes looked over you like you were a priceless piece at the museum. You could feel your cheeks heating up under his stare, knowing he had kept his promise from earlier. “Merry Christmas,” You whispered, wanting to break the ever growing tension in the room. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.” He whispered back as he moved to press kisses to your chest. He sucked and licked across your chest, stopping to toy with each of your nipples, before peppering kisses down your stomach. Aaron laid himself between your legs, then reached up to pull down your panties. He hesitated for just a second to make eye contact with you, waiting for a nod of permission.

After you granted it, his hands more quick to slide your underwear down your legs, discarding it somewhere in the room. Aaron’s large hands rubbed up each leg as his mouth made contact with your center. He laid his tongue flat, licking a broad stripe up you, collecting as much of your wetness as he could. “Always taste so good,” He pulled away for just a second to mumble. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself.

His tongue moved skillfully, tracing through your folds and stopping to circle your clit. Your hands were latched in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. Aaron took this as further encouragement, moving his right hand from your thigh to your pussy, collecting your juices before pushing in just a single finger.

He pumped it in and out at a steady pace as he drew circles on your clit with his tongue. You could feel your body start to tighten, getting closer to your release. “Aaron!” You whined, tugging on his hair again, “Need more!” He complied, inserting another finger and increasing his speed of both his hand and his tongue. You yanked at his hair again, eliciting a groan from him. The vibration felt so good on your pussy, drawing you closer and closer to orgasm.

Aaron inserted one more finger, giving you a slight burn with the stretch of his wide digits. You came on his tongue and around his finger with a loud moan of his name. He didn’t stop, continuing to pump three fingers into you. His mouth pulled away, because he did not want to overstimulate you too much, and he wanted to see your pretty face as you came down from your high.

He was painfully hard, pushing his waist into the bed desperate for some kind of friction as he watched you. He didn’t pull away until you froze, letting out deep breaths from your orgasm. Aaron moved to lay next to you, pressing a kiss just above your ear. It was quiet for a few moments.

That was broken when Aaron slurred a, “Thank you,” against the top of your head. He sounded drunk again, only it wasn’t from alcohol, no, it was from tasting you on his tongue. “For what?” You replied, rolling over to lay on his chest. “Letting me taste you,” He answered. “You can do that whenever you want.”

Aaron rubbed along your naked body, stopping to finally remove the bra he had accidentally left you in. He was waiting for you to initiate the next round, knowing you wanted a moment to come down before he was bringing you to orgasm again. He knew you were ready when you began sucking harsh marks into his collar bones. It was an intentional placement, one that no one could see.

You slid your teeth across his bone, giving him a delicious burning feeling. He moaned at the pain. “Wanna ride you but you made my legs tired,” You pouted, jutting your bottom lip out to defend your point. He laughed, “You can always do that tomorrow.” Your pout was replaced with a smile as you nodded at him.

Aaron stood for just a moment to remove the clothes he had on. As he climbed back in the bed he guided you to lay on your back, before climbing on top. He didn’t make you do any work as he inserted himself into you.

“So wet,” He mumbled. “All for you,” You sweetly replied. His movements started off slow, allowing you to adjust to his thick dick. The burn from earlier was back as he stretched you again, but it hurt in all the right ways. “More,” You whined, again, needing to feel him deeper in you. Aaron sped up his thrusts, and buried his head in your shoulder. He focused on pressing kisses there so he wouldn’t finish so quickly. 

He was so riled up. You had him half-hard before you’d even left the house, dressed up in your pretty dress and carrying sweet desserts you’d made for him and his team. All he could think about while he ate dinner was how he wanted to be devouring you instead.

“Fuck,” He moaned as he moved to hold himself up on his elbows. You weren’t sure what he was thinking about, but he was fucking you hard now. The bed shook as he drove himself into you, banging against the wall. “Looked so fucking pretty today,” He whined, drawing out the word ‘pretty’.

Aaron kept a steady rhythm, showering you in compliments and emphasizing each of them with a hard push of his cock. You were a mess of moans under him, puttering out whines of his name. His left hand slid down the expanse of your body to stop on your thigh, hiking it up to his hip. You could feel him so much deeper at this angle. “Gonna come on my cock now, honey?” He ushered, feeling your walls tighten around him.

All you could do was whine out a “mhm”, too preoccupied with the addicting feeling of him dragging his dick in and out of you to string together coherent sentences. He murmured encouragements in your ear, trying to get you there before he found his own release.

His wish was granted as you dug your nails into his back, holding on as you reached your orgasm. You whined his name and squeezed his dick in the perfect way, and he was finishing right after you. Aaron’s thrusts slowed down as he finished.

You held him tight to you, not letting him pull out. His body was basically limp, exhausted after the long day and his wonderful orgasm. You two laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the afterglow. “You okay, baby?” You whispered in his ear. He just nodded against you, not having the energy to answer.

His dick had completely softened by the time he rolled off of you, allowing you to quickly hop in the shower. It was no surprise that he was asleep when you got out. You threw on one of his shirts before climbing in next to you.

You got comfortable, pulling the blanket up to your chin and wiggling next to Aaron. As if it was muscle memory, he wrapped his arm around you. “I love you.” You said, not expecting him to reply. To your surprise, he pressed a sloppy kiss to the back of your head, “I love you, too.”

[mahmoudna]

Urgent Humanitarian Appeal 🍉🍉

Dear all,

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Every $1 can make a significant difference in our lives. Your contribution, no matter how small, will be a beacon of hope for us during this hardship.

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