#it’s like. i love knowing i’m going to wake up and get to eat etc etc or when i order food or when it’s being made and it smells good but

[serethereal]

that scene from fleabag where she’s on the toilet describing what she likes ab sex and then goes. not so much actual sex is me but with food

[trashcanfanfics]

hi! this is my first time requesting but i saw you wanted to write for jason?

so how about jason cuddling with reader in his apartment, when dick or tim etc come to get him for a mission and catch him with the reader? i’m thinking a whisper-shouted squabble while they try not to wake the reader up lol 😭

could be a one shot or anything you like!

I love this

The window slowly opening caught Jason's attention. He went through a sequence where he could attack the intruder while keeping you sleeping so peacefully. The slight shifting stopped once he heard a familiar, annoying voice.

"Jason? Are you--Ow!" Tim's voice was cut off as a coaster hit his face. The teen glared at Jason and was about to cuss at him before he saw you and Jason cuddled on the couch. You shifted slightly and snuggled closer to him. Jason put an aggressive finger to his lips, his other hand on your lower back, glaring right back at Tim.

"What do you want?" He hissed. Red Robin looked between the two lovers and a grin slowly took over his face. One that meant Jason was never going to live this down.

"B needs your help." Tim whispered, hands up in a placating gestured. "Something's happening in Crime Alley--"

"Take care of it yourself." Jason's whisper made Tim pause. Jason? Not wanting to take care of things himself? Impossible. Was your influence on him really that strong? Tim looked at you again.

"You're giving us permission to enter your territory?" Tim put up an arm, gesturing to you, still snoozing, head on Jason's chest. "Because of them?" Jason's glare turned down right deadly. He picked up another coaster from the coffee table.

"Just get out already!" He scowled. You shifted, causing both of them to stop and hold their breath. You moved your hand slowly rubbing your eye before resting it by your head. They both relaxed. Until you spoke.

"Is there someone else here?" You lifted your head and looked at Tim. Jason let out an annoyed sigh, making you look at him with a frown. He felt his heart clench. "Why is there a vigilante in the living room?"

"I don't know but he's leaving." Jason looked pointedly at Tim. He held his hands up. You sat up and Jason grunted as you pushed on his chest to climb off of him. "Dammit." You ignored him, looking at Red Robin.

"Hey, look, I just came here to tell Re-Jason. Something." He turned towards the window to go. He put his hand up to the comm in his ear. "Red's busy." He listened to a response before looking at you, who was still looking at him with a tired confusion. He smirked at Jason who groaned and flopped his head back.

"Dammit." Jason got off the couch and put a hand on your shoulder, leaning towards you to whisper in your ear. "Hey, go to bed, I need to talk with him real quick." You leaned towards him, gently bonking your head against his, turned, kissed his cheek and left the room. Tim watched the whole thing with a shit eating grin.

"They're cute." Tim knew he was getting on Jason's last nerve. It was in the way he grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "Listen, I'll just tell them you got caught up with some goons or something." Jason sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Give me a few minutes." Jason entered the bedroom to see you curled up and snoring softly. His heart fluttered and he smiled. It was quickly wiped when he remembered he came in here to change into his gear. He sighed in annoyance and quickly threw on his armor.

"--and they were--oh, gotta go." Tim quickly shut up, noticing Jason coming back into the living room, Red Hood gear on. "You know you could just stay." Jason squinted his eyes at the teen.

"Whatever, let's just go." He pushed past Red Robin and climbed out the window onto the fire escape. Tim followed. They both grappled away, Tim going two buildings over while Jason only went one over.

"I'm here." He called into his comm. "What--" He was cut off.

"Who's the lucky person?" Dick's voice was full of smug joy. Jason glared through his helmet in the direction of Tim, who was now gone. He was going to actually kill the kid this time. Once he catches him.

[parkersbliss]

A Domestic Life | S. Riley

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x female reader

warnings: none just some fluff bc I don’t see enough for him :(( maybe OOC

synopsis: just some fluffy headcannons about the infamous ghost and how he treats relationships

a/n: there is not enough tooth rotting fluff for this guy and I’m gonna fix that starting now

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for ghost!

—

sleeps like a log. the guy sleeps on his back, pointed at the sleeping and when he’s out he’s OUTTTT that boy does not sleep on the field so in an actual bed? he’s comatose. of course if you have a nightmare you can wake him up anytime. he’ll be a little confused at first but he’s got the spirit

enjoys cuddling but not in his sleep. he overheats so easily bc of how big he is so you guys keep your space. he is happy to hold you before bed though while watching a movie or scrolling on tiktok

he’s a DRY texter oh my god. it’s like your biggest pet peeve. “how’s your day” “fine” “made any progress?” “no.” you’re working on improving his skills but he’s just like that. you asked a question, he answers. besides he doesn’t frequently have time to text you long detailed replies

obviously ghost loves his mask, and it makes sense for him to conceal his identity but he doesn’t when he’s back with you. he likes to keep his identities separate. ghost and the mask for the field, regular simon at home. it’s not like anyone would know they were the same guy, except you of course.

on the off chance he’s home for halloween, he doesn’t use his mask as a costume (just in case anyone could connect the dots) but does keep the skeleton theme

his favorite holiday is christmas and he always makes sure he can have it off

he LOVES to cook. he doesn’t eat good when deployed so he loves coming home and cooking himself up exactly what he wanted. don’t get me wrong, he loves if you cook too but there’s something about not being able to control what you eat and then having full control and making homemade pasta for him

wears beanies all the time in winter. the dudes got a buzz cut, standard, so his heads cold. he loves when you wear a matching one with him

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn bc his body is just used to it after so many years

when he retires, he plans on having a small farm for even fresher homemade ingredients like eggs, milk etc. and he’ll wake up early to do the farm chores

again with the shitty food thing, he only likes gas station coffee. he’s so used to a crappy cup of joe that he can’t do the fancy shit. then again, he’s more of a tea guy anyway

loves his alone time but he likes you there, if that makes sense? like he loves reading a novel and not talking but just having you also read in the same room

likes just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie

It took him a while to adjust to physical touch after it being 1.) mostly abuse or 2.) enemies after him but he is not completely against it. he knows it’s important in relationships so he tries his best and eventually learns to love it

a sucker for slow dancing in the living room. bonus points if it’s with the christmas tree lights and music. he loves swaying around and the occasional stepping on feet and your giggles

his most prized possession besides the guns and you is a le creuset tea pot you gifted him for christmas. it’s bright blue with a gold handle and perfect.

he has a tea collection on display and is always trying new flavors from around the world. his green tea is imported from japan ONLY. always makes two cups for himself and you

loves to do any picnic dates or apple picking or farm style dates. the man loves food as FRESH as possible.

his bucket lists consists of food places around the world he wants to try and go with you.

including fugu from japan. you are totally opposed because of the whole life or death thing associated with it, but simon’s used to risks and he’ll do his research ofc.

he’ll never admit but he wants to go to america just to try the fast food there. he knows it’s bad and the opposite of what he stands for but the chinese in britain is ASS and doesn’t canes, in n out and chick fil a look SO good?

bicep holding >>> hand holding

he needs routine. simon needs to wake up at the same time, make breakfast for you guys at the same time, have his quiet time on the porch. watch the morning news with you and the tea. always at the same times. he tries not to but he can’t help bringing some of his military life home

his crew knows he has a wife but that’s it. ghost keeps simon separate and you are married to simon.

plus he can never be too safe when it comes to his work. the only name you went by when he’s deployed is “my wife” or “mrs riley”

doesn’t even carry a photo of you bc he’s that paranoid

you guys actually get married within 18 months because it just makes life easier. as soon as simon knew he wanted to marry you, he did.

it’s just easier in the military bc of pay, benefits, deployment, etc. and ofc he loves you and was locking that down ASAP

sends you recipes when he’s deployed for you to make and rate

when he can’t sleep, which is often, he just lays next to you not touching and contemplated how it is after all the bad he’s done, how he got it so good.

and he makes sure you know how appreciative he is

[tinytennisskirt]

best friend!patrick zweig who is totally not in love with you…

headcanons with a plot <3

warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, marijuana, smoking, casual touches, jealousy, and silent yearningggg

- insists that he drives you home even if you’re the slightest bit tired. you yawn at his place- you’re not driving home. he says it’s to keep you safe but really, he just wants more time with you.

“it’s like twenty minutes out, i’ll drive, it’s nothing.”

“i’m perfectly fine to drive! i just yawned, i’m not tired.”

his foot is down. “yeah, that’s not happening.”

“you’re going to take a bus home? patrick…”

“i’ll take a taxi if it makes you feel better?”

“uh huh.”

- he follows the sidewalk rule. he’s never heard of it before but he does it, just on his own.

- saves you the last slice or even bite of anything he’s eating that’s worth it. he orders a really good burger, the very last bit left is yours. ordering a pizza, the last slice is yours. even a slice of cheesecake, the last bite is yours. bonus points to him for making sure the last bite contains all elements of what he had. the burger has all toppings left on the last bite, the cheesecake has the crust and the caramel drizzle, etc.

- doesn’t get why you choose such shitty men to go out with and waste your best dresses for the wrong eyes. he plays it off as caring about you, but he’s jealousss

“i have another date tonight with tony,” you tell him. he looks up from the can of ravioli he’s opening.

“tony with the hair or tony with the fake hair?”

you tsk, “with the hair.”

“the guy with the weird moustache who runs the laundromat? really?”

“he’s nice!”

“just nice shouldn’t cut it. and doesn’t he have the weird butt-chin thing? come on.”

“he treats me well! compliments me, pays for things…”

“yeah okay, with the laundromat money, you’re sure it’s not going on credit?”

by the end of the conversation he’s telling you that you look nice, a little defeated, but he means it. he can’t talk you out of it truly without first admitting he likes you and secondly, admitting to you he likes you.

- he’s always down to spend time with you. he might say he’s busy but he’s not. and when he is, he moves things around just to see you, but he won’t tell you that.

- he buys the drinks you like just to keep them in the fridge. he buys more every time he goes out so the stock of it keeps growing and soon enough it’s taking up two shelves in his fridge.

“i’m going to make something to eat for dinner,” you say, opening the fridge. and the fridge is near-full of your favourite drink. he usually gets it for you, you’d assume he just had a few but no. he has so many. and the thing is, he doesn’t like the drinks. so it’s just really weird. there’s a million of your drinks and then in the empty spaces, ketchup, mustard, milk, ground beef, cheese, and two red peppers next to the can of opened redbull. what for? who knows. you walk back out to where patrick is sitting and he looks up from his phone.

“we can get groceries. don’t have much right now,” he reaches for his keys and you laugh just a little, which stops him. you hold up one of the drinks and he just stares at it, knowing you know about the shelves upon shelves of it. “they were on sale, fuck off.”

- any time you’ve slept at his place he either gives up his bed and sleeps on the couch, or if you fall asleep on the couch you always wake up the next morning with a comfy blanket over you and a proper pillow under your head. he won’t move you, he’s too afraid to wake you. or on nights when you know you’re staying over or even on a whim, he’s used to giving you his clothes to sleep in because he knows you like the fit of them. they’re comfortable.

- without you coming over, patrick wouldn’t do any of his chores. he’s only motivated by the idea that you might come over and think he’s a slob. you already know he’s a slob, but he does a good job at hiding it. it always smells a bit like febreeze when you come over and not that you mind it- it smells good. but it can’t mask the slight cigarette scent and the scent of his cologne which is without a doubt on every surface he’s ever layed on.

- he’s the guy you can go to for honest opinions because he’ll always shamelessly side with you. a fight with a friend who was clearly in the wrong? he doesn’t even try to see the other perspective, he’s on your side no matter what. your ex and his new girl? he thinks she’s ugly and a downgrade and he’s an asshole for posting the grocery store flowers he got for her. he’s jealous, but he’s good knowing your ex fumbled you.

“they’re yellow.”

“he got her yellow chrysanthemums?”

you chuckle and look at him. “you know what flowers those are?”

“saw them the other day at the store. on sale, $5. same ones, look at the wrapping.” he says, pointing at the laptop. “he’s broke and she doesn’t even know it.”

you laugh. he’s glad to hear it.

- when you go out to bars he pays for your drinks. says you deserve it- you do come over and cook all the time so why not?

- patrick is known to crack a few jokes but when you’re serious, so is he. you’re upset? he’s listening, he won’t make fun of you unless he knows it’ll make you feel better. he’ll sit next to you, let you talk, cry, get really angry, get really sad. he’s there. and he’ll comfort you in whichever way you need. it’s his softer side, the one you bring out. lets you lean against him, he’ll even hug you if you ask.

- he’s a GOOD HUGGER. he gives amazing hugs, they are so enveloping, so comfortable. his arms wrap all the way around and not only do his arms squeeze you the perfect amount of tight, but his hands as well. he’s always warm but not hot, and he smells like good cologne and slightly of cigarettes. he’ll take any chance to hug you and you’ll gladly have it.

- struggling not to think about fucking you when you’re trying on dresses for a date. he’s thinking ‘what will these guys think when they see you?’ and his mind is on one thing that they’ll be thinking. but his mind is on it too, when you come out in a little black tube dress and you ask him if it’s too short. it’s too short for sure.

“what about the cleavage though? too much? not enough?”

“hm?” he’s not paying attention to your words.

“the cleavage. too much?”

“yeah. maybe try a turtleneck.”

yeah yeah it’s wrong to think about sex with your best friend, but the dresses, each shorter and showing more skin than the next we’re making him so incredibly horny. he doesn’t do well with that. goes home and fucks his own hand at the thought. helps to distract himself from the fact you’re out on a date with someone else who might actually get to take off that dress :(

- he’ll show up at your place with whatever it is you say you’ve been wanting and he will make a night out of it. wings? he’s at your door with them in an hour. drinks? yeah he stopped for a six pack of whatever he grabbed. he’s always down to get food. you want to go out? he’ll pick you up to go get whatever it is you’ve been wanting. a good excuse to actually work on bulking. not that it’s date-like.

- he’s got a photo of you in his wallet. it’s a platonic thing, he swears to the girl he takes on a date. she’s pretty but she’s not you. the photo of you sitting pretty with a potted plant doesn’t give off ‘available’ and yeah he kisses her but she is not you. he leaves early and calls you on his way back. he’s pretty sure he’s fucked forever because he’s realizing he only wants you.

- he’s protective at parties. he’s already watching you dance and have fun but when you come there with him and start flirting with guys it provokes him just a little more than it would if he were sober. he’ll walk over and slip his arm around your shoulder or even your waist if he’s had enough to drink and he’ll ask the guy how he’s doing and he’s 100% running interference pretending he’s just out of it from the alcohol and it isn’t the fact he’s jealous.

“hey man,” patrick usually greets the guy, hand resting on the small of your back. he’s always got a big smirk on his face, tongue against his cheek. “what’s up?” the move usually scares the guy off and you playfully hit or elbow him, but it’s worth it.

- his doors are always open to you. you have a key if you need it. so when you show up, soaked from the rain, upset over tony the laundromat guy being the dick patrick was so right about him being (despite not knowing the guy at all), he wraps you in his arms and he listens to the whole story. you’re complaining about genuine men being so hard to find and he’s sitting right there. he just brings his hand to rest against his jaw and looks off to the side at something as you continue speaking and he’s listening, he just hates what he’s hearing.

- he’ll take off whatever jacket he’s wearing if you’re cold. he won’t be happy about it- or look happy about it, but he might be a little happy about it… he’ll complain about what he’s going to do in the cold but the sweater or jacket is on you within five minutes of your ask.

- he’ll begrudgingly do whatever you ask of him. like he does not want to get up at 4:50 in the morning and drive to the hilltop to watch the sunrise. he wants to stay asleep, snoring in his bed, but you wake him up and he hates it, but it’s you and it’s the sunset so he goes with you. but in his still-tired state all he can seem to focus on is the light of the sunrise hitting your skin. he’ll either do it super slowly or begrudgingly, sometimes he might even say no. but it never stays a no.

- again. can’t stand that you keep giving your time to men who don’t know how to treat you. he goes to the bar, he drinks about it a little, he talks to the bartender about you. the bartender knows you by name, knows your favourite album, knows you go out with guys who aren’t him, and he knows you’re beautiful, having your features described by a drunk patrick who uses his hands a lot to gesture. it’s weird when you go to the bar with patrick another night and the bartender already knows your name and the drink you want.

- drunk patrick uses all the self control he has not to tell you he wants you. he almost lets it slip with unfinished sentences. does everything he can to fend himself off, but he’s very close to you when he’s drunk, his already-bad spatial awareness so much worse while impaired. his face always close to yours, nose sometimes hitting yours, he comes so close. hands reach for your waist when he’s near you. you don’t mind it- it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. it’s a different feeling. you manage to wrangle him into his bed and make him drink water. he’s talking to you like there are important things you need to know before he absolutely passes out.

“if that tony guy comes around again i hope he knows i owe him a broken nose,” he’ll say and he’s grinning and you’re just rolling your eyes at him, he’s so stupid. “you have to stop dating these guys, fucking douchebags. i know i’m not much better, but at least i don’t wear axe body spray and pick you up in a beat up honda.”

“patrick, you drive a honda,”

“mine isn’t beat up.” he says. so honest. you laugh at him and hand him back the cup of water. but he says it, “you deserve more than that kind of guy. want you to have someone who really gives a fuck, you know?”

“if i could find one,” you say. half-oblivious, half-looking for him to say something that’ll have meaning. it’s the first time his drunk mind is telling him the feeling in his chest is heartache. oh my god, he feels like such a girl- he just grins, dimples on his cheek crawling all the way up. he covers his face.

- when you’re hanging out with mutual friends, smoking, talking, he’s always taking the seat next to you. your friends all know he’s into you- most of them suspect you’re already dating on the down low, the way you guys are so close. you’re sitting on the couch and his arm is up on the back of the couch behind you, your hand sometimes resting on his leg, you have your own conversations on the side and you’re laughing and leaning toward each other. it’s obvious. he’s obvious. YOU are obvious. and oblivious! painfully.

- patrick will shave his beard for your birthday. he’ll trim it regularly but on your birthday he shaves it all off, it’s an annual thing. bare-faced and you find it so so fun to see him without.

- the dress you wear on your birthday is a little too perfect. the mix of you and your hair done and your makeup and the intention of drinking with your girl friends and asking him how you look before you leave. you usually ask him before you go out. he’s going out with you and your friends, but he comes over a little early, just how things are. he’s always honest.

“you look… wow.” he’s looking at you. you’re standing in front of him, little dress, perfectly fit to your body. and you’re smiling, doing a little spin. and you’re beautiful and god you’re so fucking hot. patrick fears for the possibility of his sober thoughts becoming drunk words later. you’re already unbearably fucking beautiful what is he going to do with himself?

- he’s a touchy drunk. not with everyone, not the same way he is with you. when he drinks his hands are magnetic to you, resting on your hands, hand on the small of your back, your waist, your arm. like i said before, you’re used to it, you don’t mind it, but it’s different when he’s staying somewhat sober because he’s afraid of how he’d act if he had more than three shots. he wouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with- it’s not that, it’s the fact he’s scared if he drinks tonight that you in your element, dancing, laughing, having fun in that little dress would provoke him to spill all of his secrets. he’s got a stoic form of self-understanding he’s taking to prevent anything dumb from falling out of his mouth under the influence.

- he does, however, fend off the creepy guys or just the assholes who try and buy you more drinks or even talk to you. he won’t let them get so far as to ask for your name. you whine but he just tells you, “you wouldn’t want to talk to them sober.” and you’re like hmm true. the defender position includes closing your tab, getting you home, and getting you inside safely. and usually you take care of him when he’s drunk or high, but he takes the opportunity very seriously. before he’s helped you get to bed but this particular time you’re asking him to undo the zipper on your dress and you’re lifting your hair.

he’s not going to tell you no, so he undoes the zipper and in seconds you’re stripping in front of him unabashedly and he turns around, arms folded, grinning to himself because of course this was happening. he is not an asshole, so he won’t turn around until you’re dressed, but when he turns around you’re only in one of his shirts that he’s been wondering where it went- and your underwear and you’re asking him to come sit with you because it’s still technically your birthday (it’s not).

he will, but he doesn’t want to stick around too long. despite the lack of alcohol, there’s still a pull to tell you how he feels, but that’s girly. and you’re drunk. he puts you to bed after making you drink water.

- he’s the kind of guy to keep a condom in his wallet- he’s never going to use it, it’s probably expired and worn in front his wallet being in his pocket but he has it in there. in fact it’s right behind the photo of you.

- he also has a stolen street sign in his living room from when he was on tour after high school. it’s custom for all guests visiting his place to slap it before they enter the room. if you don’t, there’s no consequences, but it’s just wrong not to. he will, however, catch YOU on it if you forget. holds you to it in whichever way he can.

- he’s totally debating on kissing you almost every time he’s with you. it’s getting progressively worse every time he’s with you he swears he’s going to do it but he doesn’t want to. (he wants to sooo fucking badly, it’s insane). any time you pass him by, every time you say his name, when you sit next to him, when you’re talking to him about anything, engaging with him, looking him in his eyes. it’s a struggle not to.

and you’re friends, longtime friends so the casual touches get to be too much, even. you cup his face with your hands saying he needs to shave and he’s only staring at your lips.

or you sit sideways next to him on the couch facing him and your hand is on his shoulder and you’re so close to him when you talk he really could just reach over and kiss you.

you sit on his counter while he’s making spaghetti and you’re eating the shredded cheese out of the bag and it’s weird but the height your at, it would be perfect.

- you are the cause of his biggest grins and most laughter. you don’t even have to try. he enjoys your company more than anyone else’s. platonically, romantically, in every way. you are his best friend. you get him on a level even art didn’t.

- he’ll pick you up whenever you need him to. doctors appointment, from a friend’s- so when your self-proclaimed final attempt at a date ends up terribly, he’s the first person you call. you’re all pretty for another piece of shit and patrick has to pretend he’s not happy the guy was so weird. you get in the car and his eyes fall on your collarbone and your thighs and you yourself catch it. his eyes. you pull a knowing little look. “shut up,” he says, driving away without even letting you get your seatbelt on.

- he’s not a door holder very often. maybe for old ladies and kids, and the occasional friend, but he’s holding every door open for you. he even opens the car door for you most times. get back to his place, you don’t want to go home yet, he holds the door for you on your way in. you hit the street sign on the wall before flopping down on his couch. it smells like citrusy febreeze and a bit like his cologne. out of his personal needs of restraint, he tosses you one of his comfy shirts and shorts so you can be out of that little dress. and after you take them to his bathroom to get changed, he’s still feeling the same way about the way you look. it was not the dress’ fault.

- the thing with patrick and other women is he’s never been afraid to go up to a girl, hit on her, he’s hardly been afraid to kiss a girl. he’s pretty confident all around but you are so different. the need to kiss you is all-consuming. he wonders if he should talk to you about things first when he’s never considered more than the flavour of a girl’s lip balm in the past. you make him nervous, sitting there in his clothes. i say there, but you’re next to him, hair behind your ears, talking about how you think you’re done with dating and you’re going to wait until the perfect guy falls into your lap. you’re playing some angle but he’s thinking that it’s a good thing. the conversation turns to joking, he’s teasing you, you tease back it’s just normal.

- of course patrick has a snack pantry. if he doesn’t have groceries, he has snacks. at a random point in conversation you tell him you could really go for an oreo right now and he’s so on that. so you both take a trip to the kitchen and you’re looking in the cabinet and you find the oreos and share them while continuing to talk at the counter. you’re going on about how strange your date was and how you felt if you stayed you’d be on a true crime document and the conversation begins to turn to thanking him for coming to get you. but like mentioned before, he’d always come get you. didn’t matter how far you were but he wouldn’t say that.

“it’s different, it’s not like you picking me up from the dentist, it’s you picking me up when i know you were busy.” you say. he smiles because he really wasn’t that busy- he was just out with friends of course he’d drop them for you. “i just want you to know i’m grateful is all.”

“don’t need to be-“ he says with his mouth full of oreo. “it was nothing, i was nearby anyway.” he wasn’t. he sped. in his honda.

“you’re so weird,” you giggle. “why can’t you just be normal about people thanking you for things you do? you go out of your way far too often.”

patrick chuckles to himself, shutting the package of oreos. he doesn’t do it for anyone else. “how do i be normal about it?”

“you could say ‘you’re welcome’, maybe?” you say. he nods. “i say i’m grateful for you and the things you do for the people you care about, namely me and you say ‘you’re welcome’.”

“we’re rehearsing?” he straightened himself as if getting ready and you pressed your hand to your forehead, smiling. “go for it. say how grateful you are for me and the things i do for you. only you.”

“so stupid, just say you’re welcome.” you giggle, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. he grins, a sly grin, dimple on full display, gorgeous. he turns away from you to put away the oreos (if you weren’t there he wouldn’t have put them away). he shuts the cabinet door. “patrick?”

“yeah?”

and he’s met with your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

- the way patrick kisses is very passionately. that’s who he is. he kissed a lot of girls in high school, met a few on tour that were worth making out with. his kisses are full of passion. but this kiss is from you, so he receives it like a gift. surprisingly politely. he’s never ever been caught so off-guard by a kiss. he didn’t see it coming at all. it’s a small kiss, a few seconds of lips fitting together perfectly, but you pull away. his face stays close to yours. he’s never had a kiss like this before. in the crowd of girls he’s ever kissed. it’s never felt like this. and it was so small.

“i’m sorry,” you say, hushed, but you’re smiling, so how sorry are you? he grins and in an instant, you’re kissing again, deeper, more, hands in his hair and his on your waist, holding tight. it’s all he’s thought about for a month on end. there’s something better than drugs and it’s this, patrick thinks. your back against the pantry door, him against you.

- he’s never been so in need of a kiss before. he’s never been kissed like this before. it’s somehow everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s never gotten from every girl he’s ever kissed. and the thing about patrick is, like mentioned, he’s a moderately horny guy but this to him is all he wants. he only wants to kiss you. a few minutes pass and he’s doing something he’s never done and that’s talking it out with you. but as soon as he admits he likes you, he’s telling you to shut up because you’re giggling and it’s adorable and you can’t be calling him out on his crush like that…

- you admit to being a little oblivious and maybe admitting to repressing feelings because you weren’t entirely sure- and he’s instantly on making fun of you for it. he makes fun of himself for not seeing it sooner or for making a move sooner but there’s no room for apologies between another kiss. a kiss full of laughter where you just can’t stop laughing but you also won’t stop kissing him and it’s kind of perfect.

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 9 | spencer reid.

Spencer wakes up in hospital and he's relieved to see you by his side.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, hospital ward, mentions of gunshot wounds, stitches, bruising, etc. mild suggestive stuff.

a/n: im actually crying this is cute

Spencer didn’t recognise where he was at first.

His eyes blinked open slowly, the beeping of the heart monitor being the first thing he heard. The first thing he felt was much worse, like he had been hit by a bus. He let out a shaky breath, his abdomen aching painfully as he tried to sit up. He froze when he heard a soft sigh beside him. It took a lot of effort for him to move his head, but he finally did and his heart warmed at the sight of you, sound asleep with your head next to his thigh.

You had your hand loosely over his, your other hand tucked under your head to make the uncomfortable sleeping position a little more comfortable. Spencer lifted his hand from under yours, gently running a hand over your head. The contact was enough for you to wake almost instantly.

“Spencer?” You mumbled tiredly, sitting up straight in the hard plastic hospital chair. You looked at him and felt tears come to your eyes when he tiredly smiled at you, his hand still resting in your hair. You let out a breath of relief, grabbing his hand and peppering it with soft kisses. “You scared me.”

“I love you too,” Spencer’s voice was weak, but he wanted it to be the first thing he told you. It was all he could think about while he was lying in the grass, staring at the sky. Despite the immense pain, thinking of you helped soothe him.

“W-What?” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, furrowing your brows at him. Of all the things you expected Spencer to say, it wasn’t that. You thought he might say something witty or start apologising.

“I love you too,” he repeated, a little more confident this time. “I didn’t get to tell you and I was scared I would never get to… after I was shot.”

You let out a breath of a laugh as you stood up, cautiously leaning over Spencer to press a kiss to his forehead. You were far too nervous to touch him anywhere else, fearing you would cause further damage.

“You look exhausted,” he mumbled.

“That’s what a girl wants to hear,” you retorted playfully, sniffling gently.

Spencer held your hand, “I’m serious. You should go home… These chairs are awful.”

“I wanted to be here when you woke up,” you replied, smoothing some of his hair out of his face.

“And I’m awake now,” he whispered, “you need to rest.”

“If anyone needs to rest, it’s the guy who got shot,” you chuckled, sitting back down in the hospital chair, still holding his hand. Spencer gave you a disapproving look, you waved him off, “I’m fine, Spence. Really.”

“At least eat something,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“I’m fine-”

“I know you,” Spencer said, “you haven’t eaten since I’ve been out.”

You sighed in defeat, letting him gently cup your cheek, “I will go get the nurse first, then I’ll go get something to eat,” you compromised. Spencer knew he wouldn’t win with you so he agreed.

You pressed the call button, waiting for the nurse to arrive before you even thought about leaving Spencer’s side. She checked his vitals, assessed his wound dressing and asked him a couple of questions before leaving the two of you alone again. Spencer gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes with a smile, finally leaving to find something to eat.

You found a 24-hour Seven Eleven at the hospital food court across the road. You picked out a ramen bowl and a drink for yourself before you noticed the little cups of Jell-o in the fridge. Knowing it was Spencer’s favourite, you bought about four of them. 

Spencer was sitting up when you got back, a slight pained expression on his face. The nurse had brought him some food and Spencer was not a fan of crappy hospital food. Spencer dropped his fork on the overbed table, giving up.

“Not a fan?” You chuckled.

“Tastes like a boot,” he grumbled.

You giggled softly before reaching into your plastic bag of goodies, “well, lucky for you, I’m the best girlfriend ever.” You pulled out the little cups of red and green Jell-o.

“Oh, I love Jell-o!” He exclaimed excitedly, reaching for the cups of Jell-o. He leaned cautiously toward you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled. You watched as he winced in pain slightly, moving back to comfortably sit lean on the bed. “Be careful, please. I just got you back, don’t go doing more damage.”

“Right,” Spencer nodded, peeling the plastic from the top of his Jell-o cup. He shoved a spoonful in his mouth, humming in delight, “way better.”

Spencer spent another 2 weeks in hospital for monitoring and you stayed by his side the entire time. Despite your protests, he pestered the nurses and doctors until they got you a more comfortable chair to sleep in. You still stayed awake to make sure Spencer got some sleep, refusing to rest until you knew he was asleep himself. 

After giving him the all clear, the nurses and doctors gave you strict instructions to keep Spencer from hurting himself further and risk tearing his sutures. You knew getting Spencer to relax would be a mission in itself so you made sure to call Hotch to let him know and you took a full month off work to make sure Spencer was settled before you left him on his own.

“Guys, I can walk to the car,” Spencer protested as you and Morgan helped him into the car.

“Doctor’s orders, kid,” Morgan retorted, he looked at Spencer pointedly, “now, you’re going to listen to Y/N, right?”

“Yes, Morgan,” Spencer replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Thanks for this, Derek,” you said, tossing Spencer’s bag into the backseat.

“It’s no trouble, pretty girl,” Derek smiled, “call me if you need anything or he’s getting on your nerves.”

“Will do,” you laughed.

Getting Spencer to the elevator and down the hall to your apartment proved to be more of a mission than you anticipated. Once you pushed your apartment door open, little Tofu came trotting up to the two of you, meowing relentlessly as if she was questioning where the hell you two had been. 

“Tofu!” Spencer beamed as she rubbed up against his leg. “Mom and dad are home,” he cooed. It took everything in his power to not bend down and rub her belly, but he knew it probably wasn’t the best idea after he’d been shot.

You grinned at his referral of you as ‘Mom and Dad’ to your little fur baby. You helped Spencer to your room, helping him sit down on your bed. You kneeled on the ground, untying his laces (since he hated taking his shoes off with the laces still tied) and placing them neatly next to your much smaller sneakers in the closet.

“Alright,” you breathed, “I know you don’t like pain medication-”

“No,” Spencer warned. You knew what had happened a few years back and you never pushed him to take anything when he was in pain, but being shot sort of had unique circumstances.

“Oi,” you retorted, giving him a warning look, “at least take something mild so you can get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he sighed. You gave him a very mild medication, something you took when you had a headache or back pain. You knew it wouldn’t do too much but it would at least provide some relief.

“I’ll be just outside, call me if you need anything,” you kissed his forehead, helping him lay back in bed, pulling the covers over him gently.

“Could you stay?” he muttered softly, looking up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes. Your heart melted and of course you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you whispered.

You crawled into bed beside him, fishing around your covers for the remote and putting on some random documentary.

“I’ve seen this one,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s the point, Spence. If I put on a documentary you’ve never seen then you won’t go to sleep,” you chuckled.

“Fair enough,” he said with a small laugh. 

Spencer went quiet after that, a soft yawn pulling from his throat as he relaxed into your comfy bed. You tucked yourself in close to him, letting him rest his head on your chest as you played with his hair, trying to soothe at least a little of his pain. He dozed off shortly after that, your apartment proving to be far more comfortable than a hospital bed in a freezing cold ward.

It was almost 2am when you woke up abruptly. You sat up in bed when you heard something fall in your bathroom. Looking beside you in bed, Spencer was gone and you knew his stubborn self tried to do something without waking you.

“Spencer!” You threw your bathroom door open, your eyes softening as you saw Spencer with his shirt halfway over his head, his arms tangled in the fabric. You helped him pull it over his head before you began scolding him, “Spencer, you’re supposed to wake me!”

“...I just wanted to shower,” he frowned.

Your heart softened and you sighed, “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You turned the water on, keeping your hand under the running water until it was warm enough for Spencer’s liking. You helped him take his sweatpants off and you helped him into the shower. Your heart aching at the sight of his red abdomen. It looked like it hurt a lot. The bruising had gone down significantly since the last time you saw it but it still looked awful. The thin incision was far smaller than you’d expected, given the damage the bullet had caused to everything beneath his skin.

Your shirt began to get wet and you decided you’d just shower with him. You pulled your shorts off and kicked them to the corner, pulling your (Spencer’s) shirt over your head and tossing it aside too. You gently washed every inch of him with unscented soap, making sure to be extra careful around his stomach. 

Spencer leaned almost his whole body weight against you as you washed his skin. He felt remotely human again being clean, sick of the awkward sponge bathes he had to have in the hospital. You washed his hair too, the feeling of your fingertips scrubbing his scalp soothing the aches in his muscles. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your wet hair.

“You don’t have to thank me, Spence,” you replied, rinsing the soap suds from his hair.

Spencer loosely wrapped his arms around your waist just revelling in the feeling of the warm water hitting his back. You rubbed the back of his neck, your other hand tracing small circles along his back. The two of you stood there for a good 20 minutes before you finally turned the water off and helped dry him.

You gently patted his wound dry and put a fresh dressing over it. You grabbed a fresh pair of clothes for him and helped him into them before helping him back to bed, still adorned in just a towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at you.

“I love you,” he said softly, grasping both of your hands in his.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a long peck to his lips. You let Spencer hug you close, pressing his head against your sternum with his arms loosely wrapped around your hips. You combed your fingers through his freshly washed hair, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

He finally let go of you after you mentioned still being dressed in nothing but a towel. You hung both your towels up in the bathroom before stepping into your slightly cold bedroom to pick some clothes for yourself.

Spencer whistled from where he was lying in your bed, his eyes raking over your naked body. You rolled your eyes playfully, looking at him. “Come here,” he grinned.

“Absolutely not,” you retorted.

Spencer frowned, “why?”

“I think sex after a gunshot wound to the stomach isn’t the best idea, Doctor,” you teased, pulling a pair of panties on and one of Spencer’s shirts to wear.

“Who said anything about sex?” Spencer retorted childishly.

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too- you know what? I’m not doing this with you,” you chuckled as you padded over to the bed, pulling the covers aside to lie down beside him. Spencer tucked himself close to you, lying his head next to yours.

“Only joking… sort of,” Spencer grinned.

“Mmm, thought so,” you laughed, closing your eyes to finally catch up on sleep. The two of you lied in comfortable silence before Spencer’s hand cheekily creeped up to cup your breast through the shirt you were wearing, you pried one of your eyes open, “Spencer…”

“Okay, okay, I promise I’m done!”

a/n: i want spencer to fondle my tiddies :(

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencereidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll @pinkpantheris @violetvsworld @readergf @pangirl-fangirl @emideadpoets @blackbeautyiloveyouso @feyresqueen @amethyst-marie368

[vip3r-r]

Hi! I noticed you do nsfw, if your comfortable could I request some headcanons of venture in bed IM BRAINROTTING SO MUCH ABT THEM SORRY!!

No because I really thought nobody was going to ask for nsfw and I GOT nsfw request (╥_╥) this was so fun because tell me they wouldn’t be such a dork while in serious situations, I love them so much I’m so sad they aren’t on the game anymore BRING THEM BACK— anywho I hope you like it! Request are still open and I will most likely post some more later after I wake up from a nap

Warnings- bad spelling maybe, didn’t double check and English didn’t my first language, tried my hardest to make it gender neutral! (You can always request if you want it f/m/gn!!)

this could go two ways…

deep in satisfaction, holding you tight or roaming your body feeling with their rough hands, looking down at you with half open eyes, letting out small huffs as they work their magic with your body

or they could be saying the stupidest of jokes or some random facts about rocks while their fingers hit that spot that makes you arch your back.

i feel like venture would love to be behind you, your legs open, their hands playing with you as they smile in satisfaction, hearing you cry and try to close your legs but you can't because they won't let you <3

would love to see you like this when you have their jacket/coat on, something about that makes them go crazy

isn't crazy in bed, more of a softy that wants to please you and occasionally wants it back

after sex, as you lay down relaxing, venture would probably lay rocks on your body while they tell you about how the found it or the history if it

loves to cuddle with you while you two get enough energy to go shower or eat, brings you water or cleans your body if it was a rather harsh session

i feel like they wouldn't dare do it at work (because they love their job) but probably have a sloppy makeout session

venture eat rocks, of course they're gonna bite you… loves to leave them somewhere where only they know, but find it funny to leave one or two where people could see it if you slightly moved your clothes

“oh whats that” venture says moving your sweater out off your neck “pika boo” you tried to fix it but they move it again “i see it” – “found it” – “cant hide it” – “hello there” etc

That’s it for this one!! I kinda ran out of ideas because it’s literally 5am in here and my brain ain’t working in that area of town yet— you are always welcome to ask with a mere detail request!!

[cvlutos]

“No Nut November” Pt.3

| Repost: 01.09.23 | 1.4K | Mature |

NRC 3rd Years X GN!Reader

| Sexual Themes | Masturbation | Flirting | Sorta Creepy | Voice Kink | Phone Masturbation(One-sided) | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |

Earl’s Notes: A special thanks, to those who have reposted and shared as such with me<3

♡ TREY CLOVER ♡

LOSER #ONE

Let me preface all this with those who lost, lost most definitely on purpose, except for Cater and Idia. Trey’s losing. That’s his first thought when Ace and Deuce ramble about it to him and knows he’ll lose if you’re anywhere near him. If you just don’t ever acknowledge his existence, he’s automatically winning. But you don’t, 'cause he’s got baked goods that you like and they're free. Ain’t no way you're avoiding him. Trey also doesn’t take NNN super seriously, so it’s okay if he loses. I also have this slight thing that Trey already loves when people eat his deserts, but with you, it turns him alil on, not in a creepy way, but ya know. He’s turning the other way if you get any sorta food stuck on your lips, or face.

Ngl, he probably daydreamed about this exact scenario, as much as he hates to admit. He just learned a new recipe for your favorite dessert, deciding to add a Lil whipped cream. He was so proud of himself, as he texted you about it, and you, being a loyal friend without hesitation, pull up. You and whip cream, we know what this leads to. You, silly Lil, you end up with whipped cream on your face. Trey, without skipping a beat, imagines it as his cu—he has to excuse himself. Moving to his room to jack one-off. He’s extremely guilty after.

“I’m glad you like the dessert. I made it with you in mind.”

♡ CATER DIAMOND ♡

LOSER #TWO

Stood not a chance. Wasn’t even gonna try. He’s such a horn dog. It’s almost embarrassing at this point. 90% of the time, you're responsible for his third boner of the day. Because Cater is such a social phone person, he has multiple pictures and most definitely trades with Ruggie. He just has the most innocent to the most scandalous (as in you sleeping at Heartslabyul, don’t be weird) Like he has access to you, or your pictures 24/7, a recipe for disaster.

So, as always, it’s a nightly ritual at this point. Laying on his back, his roommates are far into dreamland. It’s late as his eyes gradually run along the phone screen, slowly pumping his dick. Your name is a silent cry on his lips. He’s shamelessly losing and doesn’t give a damn.

“[Nickname]! You are simply the cutest, letting me take a pic!”

♡ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ♡

LOSER #THREE

Not only is it a chore to participate, but also a chore to actually do the deed. As well as Ruggie sending photo after photo of you, being you. Which has the lion beastman slightly interested, but far too damn lazy. Leona is lasting till the end of the month, simply because he doesn’t get horny, like could go weeks without masturbation. So it really is a ‘if he feels like it’ situation. Like if he needs to cum, he’s going to. Not some imaginary competition is stopping him. Though Leona attempts the competition for about 5 minutes before he’s bored with it.

He definitely forgets for the later weeks of November, till one compromising moment. Not even something inherently sexual, you had massages his ears, something that only lovers would do. Most definitely tried to ignore the boner that tightened his boxers as he tried to sleep, tossing in turning. He finally settles with a growl, nearly shoving his hands into his underwear. (Though I’m personally a firm believer Leona would never wear clothes to bed, you and Ruggie probably begged him to at least wear underwear so that when you had to wake the lion prince, he didn’t whack you in the face with that horse of his. Ruggie’s actually been slapped, which is hilarious)

“Leave me be, Herbivore. I’m not doing something so dumb.”

♡ VIL SCHOENHEIT ♡

WINNER #ONE

Short and sweet, if he’s going to cum to you, it’s going to be within your presence. He’s not going to fantasize about you, he’s going to have you. So he’ll wait till he has you. Period.

“I have no desire, Spudling. Why is it you care? Do you desire to bed me?”

♡ ROOK HUNT ♡

LOSER #FOUR

We saw how he is with Neige and this man damn near nearly cums with anything he sees as beautiful. Like he’s weird. Rook Hunt is mad weird. Though I love him for it. #RookHuntforPresident. Similarly to Cater, he has photos of you, physical and digital, and honest access to you at any point, though he’d never masturbate to you in a tree outside of ramshackle, he has thought about it. He honestly is similar to Vil. He wants to be able to fully experience you and revel in the moment with you, but he ends up thinking about it far too much which leads him being hot and bothered.

So that’s why he loses and isn’t that so beautiful, that he can put competition aside for love and beauty. His breath comes out as short huffs, legs unusually shaking, his hat discarded to the side. His face flush and eyes that seemed to glow, a low moan of your name, cum sputtering from his dick head.

“Mon très cher Trickster, permettez-moi de prendre soin de vous de toutes les manières!”

♡ IDIA SHROUD ♡

INDEFINITE LOSER

Idia is a hentai-watching, cum-drinking slut for you. Like I don’t make the rules. He hypes himself up for NNN, bragging, chatting, confident with all his lil e-friends, til the actual day NNN begins. His goal was to simply ignore you, like as if you didn’t exist, like you wouldn’t just show up uninvited. How hadn't he included that in his calculations? Most definitely has a school uniform kink, like have you met this man? You could be dressed for a day at the church and he’s cumming at the thought of you sucking him off while the choir sings of the lord. He’s shameless.

His hair wildly burning pink, voice stuttering as his tongue runs across his lips, trying to stop himself from drooling and cumming as he fucked his hand, leaning back in his gaming chair. Your voice is just so nice. His eyes roll into the back of his skull, a shuddered breath as he realizes he’s close. He damn near breaking his phone to hang up as he cums, painting his computer screen. Leaving you on the other line, completely confused.

“I-I-I wasn’t avoiding you! Just—Just working…. Yes! This game counts as work! Get Out!”

♡ MALLEUS DRACONIA ♡

WINNER #TWO

Now, why would you tell this man about NNN? Cause he’s genuinely distraught. Like should he win in your honor, or should he simply indulge in his desires to bed you? Literally asking Lilia, the worst person to ask, cause Lilia is having a field day. Best day of Lilia’s life. He’s telling Malleus to simply have fun and try. It’s better that way if you wait. The problem is Malleus doesn’t want to wait. Spoiled royal rich boy. I swear. Why must he suffer in simply doing what he pleases with his soon-to-be darling? Half of Diasomnia recognizes you as Malleus’ spouse, which is a little problematic once you actually go to the dorm and half the people are referring to you as if you're royalty. Malleus is absolutely pleased that Diasomnia accepts you, even though you aren’t together yet.

Malleus is the only one on this list who will directly go to you. Without a doubt, just appearing with little fairy lights in your bedroom, a large unhidden bulge. Like who let a horse in the house. Literally scares you out of your skin. Grim, luckily, isn’t home. He’s sorry but swears it’s urgent. Thinks you jacking him off is a loophole to NNN, he’s a darling. So when you send him away, embarrassed as hell, he’s sulking in his bedroom. Refusing to masturbate unless you're there. (Deadass sitting with arms crossed, glaring at the wall with a pout, boner still very prominent. He’s a spoiled, royal rich kid.)

“Then I will simply make them mine. That way I can indulge happily.”

♡ LILIA VANROUGE ♡

LOSER #SIX

Menace. Loses, cause it’s funny. You being scared by him turns him on. Like it’s hot to see your body flinch, and your eyes widen. Loves it. He’s lived so, so long, so the oddest of things turn him on. This is probably a cycle through all of November, him scaring you, but purposely not cumming till the very last day.

Teeth digging into his lower lip, hand slowly teasing, dragging along his cock, imagining it's you. Rolling his head to the side with a hot chuckle. Your name is hot and playful on his tongue. You’re so worth the wait, so worth the pain. Though this isn’t a victimless crime, you feel what he felt one day. (Bout to become a Lilia Supremacist)

“Fufufu~ [Name], you teasing little thing~”

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: another week...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Bucky leaves, you feel less than relief. It’s easier to breathe without him around but your heart continues to race. You don’t move until you see him drive away. You steel yourself with the manufactured lie before you go back inside. 

As you do, you’re surprised to find Roxie beside your mom, both of them close to the front window. You sigh. Were they watching? You guess you can be thankful Bucky hadn’t done more than talk. 

Your mom faces you with a sheepish grin, “so... did you get it?” 

You look between her and your sister. Roxie has her phone in hand and an arch in her eyebrow, “I’d die for a boss like that.” 

“I...” you glance the screen before she can hide it. Oh. She had a picture of him pulled up on Google. So, they both know exactly who he is. 

“He must be really hands on if he came all the way down here to offer you a job,” Roxie tilts her head. 

“That’s the sign of a good boss,” your mom insists.  

“Really, I think his eyes were the kicker. So blue.” 

“Rox,” your mom nudges her. “A man like him, he’s got line ups, I’m sure. Besides, she’s too young for him.” 

“Well, I’m older,” Roxie smirks, “maybe she can get me a job too.” 

“Er, uh,” you wring your hands, “I should start dinner.” 

“You didn’t say if you go the job,” Roxie challenges. 

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “I got a job. Just cleaning.” 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing,” you mom assures as she comes to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Mom,” you try not to look pained as you return her smile, “it’s nothing. Really. A cleaner.” 

“We all gotta start somewhere.” 

“Yeah,” Roxie scoffs, “most of us a lot sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” your mom lets you go to spin on your sister, “don’t rain on her parade.” 

“Whatever. I’d rather hand out flyers than clean toilets,” she rolls her eyes. 

You purse your lips and shy away. You feel worse that they believe you so easily and why wouldn’t they? No one would think that someone like you would merit such a preposterous offer from a man like Bucky. You still can’t really believe it. 

Maybe it’s just some twisted hallucination. You could wake up tomorrow and be just like you were before. You never thought you would long for that but now, being alone, being the loser, that feels safe. Being noticed, being someone, that’s terrifying. 

🃏

You take your time making dinner, a brief escape from reality. The distraction keeps you busy enough that your chest stops thrumming, yet your nerves are still spastic. You’re not very hungry once it’s done but you make yourself eat. 

Roxie heads off for work shortly after you gather up the dirty dishes and your mom goes to change into her pajamas. She startles you as you scour the pan you used to bake the chicken. You splash yourself and hiss. 

“Sorry, hon, I was just coming to check on you,” she leans against the counter, “you’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

You shrug, to fraught to answer. 

“You get restless, I can tell. You do everything just to keep from fidgeting,” she says, “it’s going to be okay. You’ll be just fine and you’ll see, it’ll be nice to have your own money.” 

“I know, mom,” you murmur, turning your face down to the sink, “it’s not that I don’t want to work, I just... I guess it’s the change that freaks me out.” 

“Change is good, even if it’s scary,” she says. “You’ll see.” 

“Mm,” you hum and try not to shatter, “I just want to help out.” 

“Hon, you worry about yourself. Please--” 

“No, I owe you.” 

“Owe me? I’m your mother. I just wish I could give you more,” she smiles and squeezes your arm. “If you’re not some busy working girl, we’ll celebrate on my day off.” 

“Sure,” you accept grimly. 

She leaves you and you’re silent as you finish up the dishes. You put them away and wipe the counters. When you finish, you shut off the lights. You say good night from the doorway and retreat into your room. Tomorrow. That’s all he said. That’s the only detail you go before he strolled off. 

You grab your phone and fall back on your bed. All you want is to lose yourself in a fic or a discussion board or even just scrolling mindlessly. You can’t. It’s like he’s taking over everything. There it is, that little icon you rarely see, a new message.  

You pull down the menu and stare at the preview. Two hours ago. You’re surprised he didn’t show up to check why you hadn’t answered. Again. You will at least need to send something before the night is over. 

‘Hey doll. I’ll send a car tomorrow morning at nine. Just bring yourself.’ 

You shudder and stare at the blue bubble around the text. Oof. Nine? That’s early for you. You suppose it’s about time you break that bad habit. 

‘Sorry. I was making dinner. Nine is good. Thank you.’ 

You hit send and put your phone down. You slide your laptop across the bed and open it up. You’ll watch something. That old BBC drama you found on the free streaming service has been pretty interesting, but you think you only have one episode left. That’s good, you can’t be up all night. 

Your phone buzzes. Shoot. Alright. You can do this. You have to get to it. You swipe up your phone again, surprised to find it’s still shaking.

Oh no. He’s calling! 

You panic and nearly hit decline before you manage to drag your thumb the other way. You put the phone to your ear, unable to muster even a squeak. What do you say? 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawls from the speaker, “hope I didn’t interrupt dinner.” 

“No, er, we’re done.” 

“Ah, and are you alone?” 

You frown, “yes?” 

“Good, good. Isn’t that sweet of you, cooking dinner for your family. That’s what I like about you. You take care of those you love.” 

You gulp. You don’t know what to say. 

“What was for dinner?” He asks as you hear a soft rustle. 

“Um, chicken and potatoes,” you answer bluntly. It’s an easy question. 

“You’re not busy or something?” He wonders. 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head even though he can’t see, “I’m just... in bed.” 

“Early night, huh?” He asks. 

“I guess, I was going to watch a show.” 

“Right, right,” he clicks his tongue as something taps followed by other indiscernible movements, “you in your pajamas? Bet those are cute?” 

“Not... yet,” you croak. 

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I just got out of the shower.” 

“You... did?” 

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” he explains, “gotta admit, I’m a bit impatient. You’ll see that about me, doll. When I want something, it’s hard to wait.” 

“Uh, oh...” you stutter out. 

“For you, I can,” he vows, “doll, do me a favour.” 

“A favour?” You echo thinly. 

“Mmm, yeah, I want you to get in your pajamas and send me a picture. Just to tide me over,” he coaxes. 

“A picture?” You open your eyes wide and gape at the wall. 

“Sure, just a taste. I wanna know what I should imagine next to me when I lay down.” 

“What?” You squeak, shocked by his insinuation. Imagining you?! 

“I can’t help myself. It’s lonely here.” 

“I...” you pick at your lower lip, “one sec. I... I gotta...” 

You put the phone on the bed and push yourself off the mattress. You trip on your own feet and hope he can’t hear you stumbling around. Your pajamas are kind of silly. You don’t really have any sexy ones. Maybe if he sees them, he’ll change his mind. 

The only matching pair you have have snoopy on the top and a large check bottom on the pants. You fish them out and change. It’s okay. He can’t see you at that moment. Still, it feels like he is watching you. Just as his presence has lurked around you all day. 

You go back to your phone and fumble around, “sorry, I... just... figuring out the camera.” 

You hear his timbre but can’t make out his words from the small speaker. You open the camera app and flip the camera. You move around, trying to take the pic, and lean the phone on the top of your dress. You angle it and mutter to yourself as you struggle to set the timer. 

You take several pictures before you’re not entirely discontent. You look awkward in all of them. The pants, like all your pants, are too long and gather around your feet. You don’t know how to pose either. Quite frankly, you look frightened in every single one. 

“Alright, I think...” you babble and find your way into the conversation and choose the least egregious frame. You hesitate and close your eyes as you push your thumb down on the arrow. 

You bring the phone back to your ear, “are you still there?” 

“Always, doll,” he assures and once more, the phone shifts around noisily. “Mm, Snoopy? I like it. More of a Woodstock myself but... Mm mm mm, you look good.” He pauses as you wriggle and your cheeks burn hotly. “Sexy.” 

“No,” you burst out without thinking. 

“No? You don’t think I’m telling the truth?” 

“I didn’t... say so, it’s... just pajamas,” you sniff, “sorry, I didn’t mean to argue.” 

“Doll, relax. Thing about you, you don’t even have to try.” 

You don’t reply. You have no idea what to say or even if you should believe him. You saw the picture, you look in the mirror every day, you know what you are. It still feels like some weird game. 

“Here, gimme a sec,” he says from his end. 

More rustling and the noise of a digital shutter. Your phone vibes shortly and you pull it away from your cheek. You squint at the screen as it lights up and an image buffers in the conversation. 

“Huh, uh, it’s not loading. My phone is--” you nearly swallow your tongue and gasp. 

Oh gosh. It’s a picture of him in almost nothing. Just a towel. His long hair is damp and pushed back and his dark beard contrasts his bright blue eyes as he aims the lens of his phone at himself in the mirror. His stomach is ridged with muscle, his chest trimmed with hair that trails down, and the towel hangs low, giving a generous hint of his pelvis. The vee above the fabric feels overly salacious. 

“Doll?” You hear the low tone of his voice and make yourself look away. You raise the phone again to your ear. “Everything okay? You got really quiet.” 

“I...” 

“You like what you see?” He asks coyly. 

You put your hand to your forehead, your flesh is fiery. It’s so much so fast. Just that morning, you’d convinced yourself you would never see or talk to him again. And now he’s sending you pictures like that and... flirting with you? 

“Yes,” you eke out then cover your mouth. He snickers and you clear your throat before you peel your hand away, “sorry, I mean... you’re... you... you must work out.” 

“Doll, you’re too adorable,” he says. 

You don’t say a word. You’re mortified. He knew you saw that. He knows you’ve seen him like that. He sent it! 

It’s all too much. You’re lightheaded. You rub your chin and shiver. 

“I should... sleep.” 

“Mm, me too,” he says, “hopefully I dream of you.” 

You giggle nervously, “really?” 

“Sure, doll. All I can do is dream. Until tomorrow,” he sighs, “and what about you? You gonna dream about me?” 

You squeak and stammer, “I... I... I...” 

He laughs again, “you really are so cute in those pajamas.” 

“Please,” you blurt out, “delete it.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He challenges. 

“I don’t... know.” 

“I love it,” he insists, “you’re not deleting mine, are you?” 

“N-no, no, I’ll keep it.” 

“Hm, good,” he intones, “it’s all for you so don’t you go showing me off to all your friends.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Promise, I won’t.” If only he knew you don’t have any friends to show. 

[ennabear]

girlfriend!abby 💫

⋆✦⋆ she always buys you flowers because she thinks it’s a perfect way to show you how much she loves you!!! and she likes going to antique stores to find vases with cool patterns and buying them for you.

⋆✦⋆ every last one of her pennies will be spent on you. no matter how much you protest, she looooves to spoil you and nothing makes her happier than the look on your face when she gets you a surprise gift.

⋆✦⋆ i know i already wrote about this but she loves cuddling you before going to the gym early in the morning. sometimes she’ll get a little bit carried away and smother sleepy kisses all over your face and accidentally wake you up :((( she apologizes so many times but that’s one of your favorite ways to wake up!!!

⋆✦⋆ she likes to wear your clothes because it reminds her of you. especially if you’re a masc too, you’ll never get your clothes back, sorry!! they’re hers now.

⋆✦⋆ some of the pet names she calls you are honey, sweet girl, and babe. but she also frequently calls you dude and bro just to piss you off.

⋆✦⋆ there’s always a book on her nightstand!!! she likes to read before bed or when she wants some time away from her phone. if you ask her for book recs she could write you a whole list of the best books she’s read and an in depth rating without spoilers.

⋆✦⋆ most of the furniture in her house/apartment was built or put together by her, including the bookshelf. she could sit on the floor for hours putting together an ikea coffee table while occasionally stopping to watch whatever music video was playing on the tv.

⋆✦⋆ her gym routine is very specific!!! she has designated days for legs, arms, full body, and two rest days a week. and she makes sure she eats 3 meals a day and a snack, drinks enough water, and gets enough rest.

⋆✦⋆ taking care of herself is super important, but she also loves taking care of you. knowing that she can keep you safe and happy makes her feel so proud!!! and whenever she has a rest day, she’ll spend the whole day cuddling you, cooking for you, doing skincare together, etc. she’s such a sweet gf :((

⋆✦⋆ she loves roadtrips!!!! just driving a few hours out of town to go exploring, she’ll bring her camera and take sooo many pictures of you to get developed later. and she’ll go with you to every shop you want to and she’ll buy you anything you look at!!

⋆✦⋆ lowkey she’s kind of a clean freak. growing up with jerry she was taught how to wash her hands like real doctors do, how to thoroughly clean and disinfect a space, how organization can impact your mood, all that jazz. she gets a lot of her traits from her dad actually, it’s so adorable.

⋆✦⋆ i’m convinced she’s the type of girl to take an edible and then clean the whole house because she suddenly felt super productive. you’ll come home to her cleaning, shirtless because she got too warm, with her music playing. and then she’ll fall asleep right on top of you. <33

⋆✦⋆ taking you to meet jerry would be super fun!! he’s such a sweet guy, and the love he has for his daughter is so adorable. he’s definitely the type of dad to go through an entire photo album of baby/kid/teen abby the first time you meet him.

⋆✦⋆ once she asks you to move in (after only like 6 months of dating) she loves to decorate the space with stuff that represents the two of you. she probably has a pride flag hanging in a window, and she has a hook for her carabiner right next to the door.

⋆✦⋆ she’s super close with her friends!! she’d love to take you on a double date with the two of you, manny, and whoever he was currently seeing. and you can count on her to always show up to leah and jordan’s shitty parties, even though they always end up super boring.

⋆✦⋆ she loves lazy sunday mornings when she gets to cling onto you the whole day and never let you go. she’ll hold you in bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the kitchen, on the porch, in the middle of the grocery store, anywhere!!! she just can’t get enough of you!! ;)

[purpleseven-7]

How about a head canon for Namjoon? tyyyy !!🥹

Namjoon Headcannons

— Namjoon is the definition of HUSBAND MATERIAL

— I’m talking, opening doors for you, pulling your chair out, tying your shoes or strapping them.

— You get ultimate princess treatment.

— He’s also hella protective.

— If you guys are out in public you’re not allowed out of his sight.

— You have to go to the bathroom? Okay. Let’s find a family bathroom.

— You wanna go talk to your friend? Thats fine. Lets go.

— He proposes after a year. It was an if you know you know situation

— He holds you to the highest standards. You’re literally his everything.

— If his friends ask him to go out with him he always replies with “let me ask my love”

— You are backstage at every show

— He doesn’t mind if you work but would definitely prefer if you let him provide for you.

— SO MANY SONGS ABOUT YOU

— Loves talking about you on lives and in any interviews

— PDA to the MAXXXXX

— He’s always touching you in some way.

— Can’t sleep if you aren’t in his arms

— Makes sure you are pampered ALWAYS

— You’ll randomly wake up from a nap and he’ll have a whole bag of stuff on the counter (Snacks, Face masks, Bath Bombs, etc..)

— When he’s away he is texting and checking up with you every few hours

— If for some reason you can’t go on tour and you tell him you forgot to eat that day or something he will fr have food delivered to the door and you’ll be in HUGE trouble

— I feel like lowkey…he’s a dominant in the bedroom AND out of the bedroom. Not in the weird way though.

— He’s a dominant in the way you can literally turn your brain off and just let him take care of you no matter where you are

— He loves when you’re at the studio with him.

— His lock screen is a picture of you in his lap, straddling facing him, your face buried against his neck as you sleep completely clung to him while he worked at the studio

— If you’ve had a bad day he will do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to make sure you feel better.

— You want that expensive cafe food from across town? He will be back in an hour.

— You want a back and foot rub? Lay down on your stomach and close your eyes.

— Like there is no limit!!!

— Don’t even get me started on if someone were to EVER be rude to you for any reason

— He would GO OFF.

— Like see red and become almost homicidal.

— I’ve said it already but you’re his EVERYTHING and he takes care of you. No matter what.

[danikamariewrites]

Hi! I’m the anon the asked about the pregnancy request! I’d love to request one with Ruhn. I feel like he would be an amazing dad!

The reader has been having pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, cravings, etc. she doesn’t even think she might be pregnant and Ruhn doesn’t consider it either because of what the oracle told him. Either Dec and Flynn or Bryce and Hunt (or whoever you want) bring up that maybe she might be pregnant to Ruhn or her. Their reactions are up to you. I just think after Ruhn thinking he would never have kids it would be great. 😅

Baby?

Ruhn x reader

A/n: He would be so happy to be a dad and I hope he and Lidia can have a kid of their own one day

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Ruhn did a double take as he walked past you. “Hey y/n/n, what ya got there?” He raised an eyebrow at the wild sandwich you were putting together. You look up at him, knife in hand floating above the toasted bread. “A sandwich.” You murmur, a slight blush at being caught.

Your mate hummed taking in all the ingredients you have laid out on the counter. “Cream cheese, turkey, pickles, and Solas, I don’t even want to name everything else.” He joked. You throw a pickle at him, “Let me eat in peace asshole,” you giggle.

Throwing the pickle back at you he makes his way to stand next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ok, ok, make your crazy whatever this is.” “Thank you,” you kiss his lips and shoo him away.

The next morning Ruhn wakes up to the sound of you being sick in the bathroom. He flings himself out of bed to be by your side, knowing how much you hate being sick. Pulling your hair back Ruhn lays a tattooed hand gently on your back, rubbing in soothing circles.

When you’re finally done you lean back against him, your eyes closed and trying to calm yourself. Ruhn helps you stand, guiding you over to the sink to rinse out your mouth. “You ok, baby?” You nod, holding your face under the faucet gulping water and spitting it out. Resting your face in your hands you take in deep breathes, “Solas, that was fucking awful. What the hell did I eat?”

Ruhn bit back his laugh thinking back to the monstrosity you made for lunch yesterday. “And don’t bring up my sandwich. It was good.” You say, reading his mind. Ruhn goes back to rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. Kissing the back of your head he murmurs, “Come on you, lets get you back to bed,”

Leaving you with a few slices of toast, ice water, and a forehead kiss Ruhn leaves you to rest.

Hours later Bryce comes in the house to find her mate lazing about with her brother and the rest of the frat pack. Looking around for you Bryce purses her lips curiously. “Where’s y/n?” Hunt rushes over to her, embracing his mate like he hasn’t seen her all day. “She’s in bed, she was sick this morning.” Ruhn said with a small frown.

“Oh, I’ll go check on her.” Bryce gives Hunt one more kiss before untangling herself from his grasp. Bryce raced up the stairs, gently knocking on the door to Ruhn’s bedroom. “Come in,” you grumble, rising up on your elbows. The sight of Bryce’s wine red hair brings a smile to your face. Bryce plops down next to you, “How are you babe?”

You let out an exaggerated groan, burying your face in your pillow. “I feel like shit. I’ve been sick all morning and I am so fucking exhausted.” Bryce narrowed her eyes at you letting out a small hum. You could see the gears turning in Bryce’s clever mind. “Do you…are you pregnant?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head at the question. Pregnant? But the Oracle…didn’t she tell Ruhn he wouldn’t have kids or something?

“No. There’s no way. Right?” You say quickly. “Let me call Hypaxia. She’ll be able to help.” Bryce quickly whips out her phone to call Hypaxia.

The Witch quickly entered the house, passing the boys without a word, ignoring Ruhn’s questions about you. Entering the bedroom she gives you the brightest smile. Putting her hands over her heart she makes her way over to the bed. “You think you’re pregnant,” Hypaxia coos at you.

“Yeah,” you say with an equally bright smile, pressing your hands against your cheeks. You move to the middle of the bed, Bryce holding your hand while Hypaxia kneels next to you, holding her glowing hands over your exposed tummy.

Full of worry, Ruhn couldn’t just sit here and mindlessly chat with his friends. If Hypaxia were here, and speeding up to you, did that mean you were really sick? It was rare for fae to get really sick. Was Ruhn missing the early signs of a bad illness? Standing abruptly Ruhn quickly made his way upstairs.

Opening the door he found the three of you on the bed, smiling like giddy school girls with tears falling down your and Bryce’s cheeks. So not severely ill then? Ruhn cleared his throat, all three of your heads whipping toward him. Bryce and Hypaxia looked at you, nodding at them they both slip off the bed walking past Ruhn giving him a knowing smile.

You wave him over and Ruhn wastes no time rushing to your side. Ruhn brings his hand to cradle your cheeks. His vibrant blue eyes scanning your face for any signs of sickness. “I know what you’re thinking, I could feel you through the bond. I promise there is nothing to worry about. Well not yet,” you joke. Ruhn title his head in curiosity. Taking one of his hands you rest it on your still exposed tummy.

Sending a wave of love down the bond you smile up at Ruhn. “I’m pregnant, my love.” You whisper. A joyous laugh leaves Ruhn’s lips, silver lining his eyes. “You-you’re really,” he can’t get the words out. The bond overwhelmed with joy coming from both of you. Ruhn pulls you to his chest, holding the back of your head as he burys his face in the crook of your neck.

Pulling away he gently lays you down, now hyper aware of the little life growing inside you. As he stares down at your still flat stomach he places a hand over his mouth. “I’m gunna be a dad. We’re gunna be parents.” You cover his hand that still hasn’t left your stomach, nodding your head against the pillow. “Yeah,” you whisper, still in disbelief.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend to lose weight?

Okay, so that sounds horrific, but bear with me.

To be clear, I (23M) could not care less what weight she (27F) is or what she looks like. I love this woman with my whole heart and none of it is about her appearance. We’re pretty much engaged in all but name, the only reason it’s not official is because we don’t have money to even think of weddings right now, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with her.

Thing is, she’s obese. Like, medically, not in a derogatory sense. This is massively affecting her health. She’s constantly out of breath, constantly in pain, constantly struggling, and it’s leading to other conditions such as sleep apnea. She thinks she has asthma because she’s always struggling to breathe, but I’m 95% sure it just comes down to weight and her doctor has said the same, but she tends to write it off as doctors being fatphobic.

Much of this is due to the fact that she used to struggle with binge-eating disorder. She no longer binge eats, but she does overeat in general because her body is so accustomed to constant food, so she gets painfully hungry and dizzy after 2-3 hours of not eating.

I’ve tried to encourage her to exercise with me, diet with me, count calories etc., but she gives up super easy when she doesn’t see immediately results. She also says herself that she finds it very difficult to see herself accurately - she has the reverse of “typical” body dysmorphia, where she sees herself as thinner than she is, so she genuinely sees herself as thin or like slightly curvy. (To be clear, she is very visibly obese, people comment on this often, and while I’ll be the first to go fists up if someone’s a dick to her about it as people have been I also am genuinely worried about her health.) Because of that she has no motivation to lose the weight because she just doesn’t see it. It’s bad enough that she’s been told by doctors she WILL likely struggle later in life with heart failure, diabetes etc if she doesn’t lose weight, yet her POV is more, “It can’t be that bad because I’m not that big so I don’t need to worry about it”. She has occasional reality checks, most recently she put her measurements into some site that shows an image of what you look like from a third person perspective, and she was completely shocked like “I can’t look like that. Do I? This is a wake up call”, but days later it’s completely lost and she’s back to saying she’s not that big again.

She wants kids with me, and I just absolutely do not want to commit to having children with her when I know there’s a not-insignificant chance she’ll have serious health issues in the future that could mean she’s not with us for as long as she could be. Both for the kids’ sake, and selfishly because I want her around! I don’t want to think about something happening to her earlier in life and being without her.

But I just don’t know what to do. Gently suggesting it hasn’t worked, saying I’m worried about her health hasn’t worked, saying I don’t want kids until she’s healthy hasn’t worked (even if she’s still overweight I really don’t care as long as she’s not in a “danger zone” y’know?), trying to meal plan with her hasn’t worked, trying to get her to keep track of calories hasn’t worked, trying to exercise with her hasn’t worked.

People I’ve asked in the past have told me to be firm about it, but I’m incredibly reluctant to do that - I struggled with anorexia for most of my teenage and adult life and I know how deep it can cut to have your weight criticised or commented on. I don’t want to be that dick who basically calls someone I love very much unhealthy and fat and tells her to lose weight or no kids or some horrible shit like that.

But I just. Can’t work out what to do. She does express a willingness to lose weight, she says she wants to, she just doesn’t have that motivation to do it. I don’t know what else we can try.

AITA for focusing on this in the first place? Like am I actually just being fatphobic, or is my own past with EDs influencing my thinking? Am I going about it all wrong? Should I just accept it as something that’ll be a potential issue in future and deal with it then or am I fair to worry about it early on?

What are these acronyms?

[cowboy-kidd]

papa’s cowboy kid ᯓ★ (headcannons for my imaginary papa)

x - x - x

—DNI NSFW—

★ - calls me things that begin with sweet…(etc. sweet thing, sweet pea, sweet baby..) + kiddo, (little) love, (my) cowboy, baby, buddy, little dude, sunshine, cutie pie

★ - helps me wash my hands…will hike me up on his hip and lean me over the sink, put soap in his hand and then rub it over mine. “Scrub like this, baby…there we go, good job, love..”

★ - holds me close to his chest when I’m crying. Making sure my ear is near to his heart and lungs as a silent reminder to breathe. He doesn’t care if it messes up his flannel cause he’s got a bunch in his closet. Pats my back and runs his hands down my hair while bouncing up and down in an attempt to comfort. Briefly cradles my head to get a forehead kiss in.

★ - very patient when I’m learning new things. When I look to him for reassurance that I’m doing the right thing he gives me a sharp smile and a quiet thumbs up. When I’m finally done he picks me up and twirls me around in the air. “You did such a good job kid!!! What the heck?? I ain’t know I got a genius on my hands!!” When I get things wrong he ruffles my hair and crouches so that he can be at eye level. “It’s alright, alright? Ain’t no hurt, harm, or bad things gonna happen to you if you get some silly old questions wrong, okay? You did good sweat pea..”

★ - when we’re walking side by side he’ll grab my head and steer me into his side and keep me there for an indefinite amount of time.

★ - likes treating us to ice cream and all sorts of sweets and food, if I can’t finish it and get worried he’ll roll his eyes and put his hat over my own. “Don’t worry about finishing it okay? We can take it home n whenever you’re hungry you can eat it then.”

★ - coos at me and probably has a plethora of silly photos from when I was asleep

★ - likes to pick out my clothes for the day, but also likes when i put together ragtag things that clearly don’t match that he lets me wear around the house cuz I think I look good. All he can do is hold back his giggles as I pose confidently for the thousands of pictures he’s snapping

★ - loves holding my hand, even when we’re not crossing the street or he’s guiding me to be careful around cattle or horses. I hold two of his fingers when he’s busy talking to someone I don’t know (also having an iron grip on his pant leg as I furiously avoid being detected by said stranger)

★ - likes riding on the same horse with me, making sure I’m safe and comfy. But also knows that I like my independence. Helps tack up my horse, brushing her sides and making sure I’m careful when cleaning her hooves so I don’t hurt the horse or myself.

★ - loves putting me to sleep. Gathering the sheets to gently lay them over my shoulders. Rubbing my back and humming softly into the night. Goodnight forehead kisses and soft half hugs in the dead of night. Only for me to wake up and climb into his bed to cuddle.

[mynameismckenziemae]

I Love You Two

Part 7

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary: Jake and Bradley sit you down to have a talk, things heat up after.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! Smut, M/M, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing, etc.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Sunlight is streaming through your bedroom window when you wake again, but this time you’re alone.

You smile as you stretch, hearing both of their muted voices and laughter from the kitchen.

“Morning,” you yawn, padding into the kitchen in nothing but one their tee shirts you picked up off the floor and your panties. “Whatcha making?”

“Hey, we were just going to wake you up. I’m almost done with the pancakes,” Jake says, nodding to the counter, “there’s bacon and eggs ready if you want some.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, kissing his cheek as you pass him. Before you can think better of it, you kiss Bradley too before sitting down beside him at the table.

The tension-filled silence becomes unbearable when Jake joins and you start to eat. Jake’s the first to speak.

“So we were talking,” he looks at Bradley, “and we both want to be with you.”

He says it like it’s something new.

“I know, and I want to be with you too,” you agree, looking between them, “both of you, but it’s not possible.”

“Why not?” Bradley asks.

“Because,” you answer, thoughts racing as fast as your heart, “because people just don’t do that. How would it even work anyway? Would you guys alternate days? Weeks?” You laugh, a little hysterical.

“Not exactly,” Bradley says, looking at Jake.

“What does that mean?” You ask, continuing before they can answer, “And what about you two? Are you going to like…date each other too? Or just fool around with me? Or without me? Or-“

“We’re going to figure it out as we go,” Bradley interrupts your rambling with a small smile as if this isn’t a big deal. He looks to Jake and his gaze heats, “but yeah, I’d like to date him too. And more, if he wants.”

Jake turns pink under his gaze, but he refuses to look away as he answers, “I’ve never…you both already know that this,” he gestures between himself and Bradley, “is new to me, well, being attracted to guys isn’t, but acting on that attraction is. But I’d like that. If it’s okay with you too, Liv.”

They’re offering what you want and more; a chance to be with both of them. And you can’t deny that the thought of them together turns you on more than you’ll ever admit. Yet tears start filling your eyes.

“But what if it doesn’t work?” You whisper, “What if…I don’t-I can’t lose either of you.”

“It might not work,” Jake answers truthfully, “but we don’t know if we don’t try.”

“Neither of us wants to lose you either, Liv,” Bradley adds, wiping a tear that’s escaped down your cheek, “or each other. Having a relationship like this isn’t common, but it’s not unheard of, either. We just have to be honest and open about things from now on, instead of hiding, running from, or acting on our feelings without thinking.”

You smile through the tears as he calls everyone out, including himself.

“Okay,” you sigh, placing a hand on each of theirs on the table, “Okay. We’ll try it. I’ll always wonder ‘what if’ if we don’t.”

They both nod in agreement before Jake changes the subject to something less heavy; college football.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Though Bradley doesn’t complain, it’s obvious he’s hurting by his wince and sharp inhale as he rises from the table, letting you put his dishes in the dishwasher with a dramatic sigh.

“I’ll clean up,” Jake says, shooing you both into the living room, “why don’t you pick out a movie? I could use a day of lying around doing nothing after that deployment.”

Both you and Bradley know that’s a lie; Jake’s a busybody but head to the living room without arguing.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“I should probably get going,” Bradley says when the second movie finishes, stretching with a grimace, “I’ve got laundry and should check my mail.”

“You can do your laundry here,” you offer, not telling him you’ll be the one to do it if he accepts.

“And I can pick up your mail when I get mine. I’ll something up for dinner while I’m out too,” Jake adds, picking up on how much pain he’s in too.

“Please stay?” You say when he hesitates, “I don’t want you alone when you’re in this much pain, I want you here…with us,” you add, reminding yourself to be honest.

“Okay,” he finally agrees, “I need a shower though.”

“Oddly enough, I have one of those,” you say sarcastically, smiling when he rolls his eyes.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

You start a load of laundry while Bradley gets in the shower.

“Be back in a bit,” Jake presses a kiss to your cheek while squeezing your ass, before giving it a gentle pat, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” You smile.

“Liv?” Bradley calls a few minutes later.

“Yeah?” You answer, pushing open the door.

“I hate to ask, but can you help me with my hair?” He sighs, “Raising my arms above my head hurts like a bitch.”

“Of course,” you enter the steamy bathroom.l, eyes widening as you push the shower curtain aside and take in his muscular back, butt, and thighs.

“Can-“ you have to clear your throat that’s suddenly dry, “can you hand me the shampoo?”

“Yeah,” he looks at the bottles lining the walls, “which one?”

“The light blue one, yep,” you take it before pouring some and lathering it in your hands. “Take a step back, there ya go.”

His groan when you massage it in sends a hot pulse of arousal through you before settling between your thighs. “I’m gonna smell like you.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, not trusting your voice.

“Fuck,” he breathes, ass clenching as his hips rock forward of their own accord when you scratch his scalp with your nails. Always a glutton for punishment, you do it again, shivering at the reaction it pulls.

“Go ahead and rinse,” you murmur, eyes dropping to his hard, proud cock when he faces you.

Suds fall down his body when he tips his head back. Your hand follows and he grunts when you fist him, slowly pumping up and down.

His hand braces against the wall as his chest heaves but he reaches down to still your hand when his balls draw up, signaling he’s close.

“Wait,” he rasps, “I want to cum inside you, and I want Jake to be here for it.”

Your pussy clenches and so does your hand, making him hiss.

But you nod, stepping back to undress. “I’ll help you wash, I need a shower anyway,” you say, stepping in behind him.

“Okay,” he murmurs, eyes darkening further as he takes in your naked form.

The rest of the shower is intimate even though neither of you take things further than lingering caresses and fleeting kisses to each other’s clean skin.

Dropping your towel beside your bed, you climb on it naked, not bothering to get dressed.

Bradley follows, cringing at the movements. He sighs when he rolls onto his back, turning his head to look at you, “As soon as I’m healed, I’m going to ruin you.”

The arousal still simmering in you boils over at his words. “I can’t wait,” you whisper hoarsely, leaning forward to brush your lips over his.

“But for now,” he nips your lower lip, “you’ll have to sit on my face. I can’t lay on my stomach and I need to taste your pussy.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

That’s where Jake finds you 45 minutes later.

“I’m back,” he says as the door closes.

“In the bedroom,” Bradley pulls off your clit to answer before going right back in, rubbing his rough mustache over the sensitive nub and soothing it with his tongue.

You can’t seem to form words at the moment, on the cusp of yet another orgasm.

“Whatcha…” Jake stops in the doorframe, lost for words as he takes the two of you in. “Holy shit,” he whispers, watching you fall apart on Bradley’s tongue with a cry, voice wrecked. His eyes dart between your face and Bradley’s cock twitching desperately for attention.

“Come here,” you pant, grinning as rips his tee shirt off, nearly falling when he takes off his jeans.

Bradley’s watching too, chin still shiny with your slick as his eyes scan every inch of newly exposed skin.

“There’s that pretty cock,” Bradley hums, smirking as Jake’s entire upper body pinkens while he flops down beside you two. He holds you steady as you carefully climb down Bradley’s body, shivering as you rub your soaked pussy against his weeping hard-on as you slide past it to rest on his thighs.

Jake jolts when Bradley’s fingertips brush the thin line of hair between his groin and belly button.

“Can I?” Bradley asks, waiting for permission, “Can I touch your pretty cock? Make you feel good?”

Jake flushes further but nods, rolling closer on his side, “Only if I can touch you too.”

Bradley’s low groan harmonizes beautifully with Jake’s strangled one as they fist each other before their lips meet in a biting kiss.

Your hand falls between your legs to rub at your needy clit, watching them fight for dominance with teeth and tongue before Jake submits, letting Bradley take control of this kiss.

It doesn’t last long though, Bradley breaks it with a wince when he leans too far. Jake immediately releases Bradley’s cock in alarm.

“Fuck,” Bradley sighs heavily, frustrated, “I can’t do anything right-oh God, Liv!” He wheezes as you sink down, not letting him dwell on what he can’t do.

“You can…” you pant as you adjust to his size, “You can do something right now. Just lay there and look good while I ride you.”

He nods, eyes squeezed shut at your tight, wet heat.

You give him a moment before you begin to rock your hips slowly.

“God,” he rasps, “you feel so good, Livi.”

“Mmm,” you smile, enjoying how he’s losing his usual cool, “so do you.”

Bradley releases his hold on Jake’s cock, running his fingers through the wetness coating your inner thigh before returning.

“Fuckkkk,” Jake hisses. His eyes fall closed as he grips the sheets, thrusting into Bradley’s fist now that the slide is eased by your arousal.

“Yeah?” Bradley hums, eyes taking in Jake’s pleasure, “God, there’s so much I want to do to you,” he looks to you, “both of you.”

“I can’t wait,” you breathe, feeling your orgasm rapidly approaching, “I’m close.”

“Me too,” Bradley’s jaw clenches his jaw as your hips start to lose rhythm, “Jake?”

Jake barely gets a nod in before he’s groaning, painting his abs and Bradley’s hand with cum.

“Fuck!” Bradley gasps when you start tightening around him from the sight, crying out as the pleasure overtakes you, giving him no choice but to follow with a groan of his own.

Still panting, you flop down between them, finding both of their hands with yours. “Watching you two together is…really fucking hot,” you laugh breathlessly, “wow.”

Bradley grins and Jake blushes as he reaches for the discarded towel from the floor, wiping his stomach before folding it and cleaning you before doing the same to Bradley, facing you both when he’s done.

“I meant what I said,” Bradley turns his head to look at you both, “there’s so much I want to do to the both of you.”

“Soon,” you press a kiss to his cheek and an even gentler one to his bruised shoulder, “you’ll be better soon.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: Well…they talked (and more 🥵). Things are going to heat up even more when mean!dom Bradley may or may not be coming out to play 😏

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Tagging:

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@dizzybee03

@shanimallina87

@lexixstewart

@hookslove1592

@jessicab1991

@livzblogg

@carolina-on-my-mind03

@racerchix21

@xoxabs88xox

@midnightmagpiemama

@its-the-pilot

@kmc1989

@psuedochakra

@fandomology101

@kneelforloki

@djs8891

@mavrellover91

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@seitmai

[l3viat8an]

Mornin Ro~ *Hands you coffee in a cat mug*

Okay so like ya know how Beel and Belphie have like connected feelings and stuff. Like how Beel knows when Belphie has a tummy ache, etc.

So I would imagine they also know when the other is fucking MC. And this fact usually results in MC being an Attic Club Sandwich™

Like imagine Belphie is napping on the couch and Satan is sitting on a chair nearby reading and Levi is on the other couch (I think they have 2!?!?akskdndks) on his switch when Belphie starts mumbling in his sleep. That's nothing new of course so they just ignore it for now. Then Belphie starts shifting around and groaning until he fucking tumbles off the couch and he wakes up all irritated. But then he gets up and just fucking *bolts* to the attic and Satan and Levi just exchange confused glances. (Belphie is lightning bolt for MC)

Imagine Beel in the kitchen rifling through the fridge for a snack and Asmo and Mamms are chillin' nearby having a little discussion about what club they're going to tonight. Beel is in the middle of eating a head of lettuce like it's an apple when he finds a pudding in the back of the fridge. So he finishes the lettuce quickly, opening the pudding and he takes one bite before his eyes widen and hes like 'huh?' and he abandons the pudding on the counter heading to the attic quickly. And Asmo and Mamms are just so fucking confused because why tf did Beel just abandon his food.

So whichever twin was left out just busts in the room like "I'm here bitch" and the other just chuckles like "Took ya long enough" (RIP MC 😔)

~🍒

Nsfw content MDNI

Hiii 🍒!! *hands you a donut with sprinkles* ‘n I’m keeping the mug XD

They’ve got the twin telepathy thing but X 10 at least!!!-

I laughed at Belphie rolling off the couch and just fuckin’ running off ngl jsksjsk he’s a demon on a mission!!!-

and Beel leaving food??? Asmo’s gonna worry he’s sick, when really Beel’s just absolutely whipped for MC!!-

Now my random idea / add on to this is how much fun teasing them both would be!!!

Just imagine spending the day with Beel, doing errands or whatever around the Devildom.

Soft kisses and touches whenever you can and Beel even pulls you into an alleyway to make-out or more~

All while Belphie is at home! All those damn touches and teasing is killing him!! In the best way. He can’t even just run to where you and Beel are because you’re moving around too much….so Belphie ends up sitting in his bed waiting impatiently for you two to get home!

and when you do both boys are all worked up from your sweet teasing~

Beel pushing you down onto Belphie’s lap as the younger demons hands start pulling your shirt off and immediately nipping his way down your neck, leaving some lovely little marks~

While Beel move closer tugging on the waistband of your pants until you lift your hips and pulling them off.

Belphie’s hand moves down to dip one of his fingers into your wet pussy and he lets out a dark chuckle, “Really, already this wet MC. You really are a slut.” before you can answer or Belphie can tease you anymore Beel’s pouting and grabbing Belphie’s wrist to pull it away “I want a taste. Move.”

Belphie rolls his eyes and sighs, “You’ve had them all day and you’re still going to hog them? I guess you really are the avatar of gluttony.”

Beel just nods as if it’s obvious and moves down to lick at your sex. Groaning when he tease you on his tongue~ Belphie shakes his head, but before he can say anything else Beel’s pushing his tongue into you a little harder and you hips buck up the back down and into Belphie’s, meaning your practically rutting against his cock….maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all~

[inmyminditsreal]

I Love It When You Ramble

Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You talk a lot, and freak out a lot, And Spencer's always there for you when you do freak out, or talk his ear off, In this you find out how much he actually loves it, or rather- you.

WARNINGS!!!! sweetest shit ever

Thanks for 200 followers!!!! I was eating such a fire chicken sandwich while writing this yall.

It begins..

It would be an understatement to say you could talk a lot. Sometimes you just get these ideas and they run right off your tongue before you can think. you wish you could turn it off, but you can't. It's not like anybody really encouraged it anyway. Multiple instances of you being shut down and shrugged off. This doesn’t really stop you from talking, you're really not as bright and shiny as you used to be, but you'd like to think you're still shining. Plus, you occasionally freak out over stupid shit that isn’t stupid to you. Typical. Now, you work at the BAU. Days, to months, now a year. You can still remember the night before your first day, running your mouth talking to yourself about who you should be. Loud? Quiet? you? It’s shitty to be you sometimes. you decided you'd just be. This wasn’t an easy decision, but it’s worked out pretty good so far. 

The walk to work

You live about a ten minute walk from the office, you love this walk, and cherish it really. It's the time to get your thoughts together, you always try to convince yourself to wake up earlier to have “you time”. You bet it’s overrated. Trying to find any peace while working as a profiler isn’t so simple. Any “you time” is spent trying to get into the minds of sadistic psychopaths. The year you've worked at the office has absolutely fucked you up. Not that you're not fucked up already. you are. You found a new family at the bau, one that by not much comparison, is way better than yours. Though, you still talk too much, still get those same “Please shut up” looks. There are only two people at the office who swear they could listen to you for hours, Spencer, and Penelope. Even so, you think sometimes Penelope gets tired of you. 

Walking into the office you're greeted with the sweet smell of coffee, old paper, and a smell you can only find in an office that you can't quite describe. It’s welcoming, you can’t deny that. you spot Spencer studying his computer and walk up to him.

 “Hey spence.”

He lifts his head up and gives you his sickeningly sweet smile, “Hey come grab your chair and roll over here, I wanna show you something.” 

There's a simple sparkle in his eyes that excites the shit out of you. That look makes your stomach flutter. 

“Ooooooo! I’m excited. Is it that coffee mug I was showing you? Did you look at their website? I heard that it almost got shut down, which is crazy knowing how much detail and effort goes into their stuff. Still shocked that all of it could be handmade.” you ramble as you roll your chair next to him in a swift motion. 

“I’m sorry to say it is not, it’s even better.”

He’s right. He is so right. It’s a photoshopped picture of Hotch with an anime body pillow. On a t-shirt. You start laughing so hard, you can't stop. And as one of those people who explode onto the floor in a silent wheezy laughter, you do just that. It’s an ongoing battle between you two to find the funniest thing Hotch could do, there has been him riding a unicorn, salsa dancing, in a maid costume, etc. This got you so good. 

“Jesus, jesus. You win.” you say breathlessly as you stand back up. This obviously catches the attention of Derek and Emily and they walk over. They know about your stupid battle, and despite warning you that he’s going to find out, they of course participate. 

“Oh my god? Oh my god.” Emily says as she looks reluctantly at the screen. 

Derek just starts laughing. you're still giggling. Your phone buzzes suddenly, it’s a text from your mom.

“Oh god oh god oh no.” you mumble as you look at your phone. Your mom isn’t anyone you want to be hearing from. The simple text reads,

“How’s the bau?” You haven’t told anyone in your family you're a profiler, or where you work, or anything about your life.

Looks are exchanged between Emily and Derek. 

“Are you alright?” Asks Emily.

You start to freak out. 

“Yeah, Yeah yeah fuck okay yeah. I’m fine, it's alright. I just have to go really quick.” You start as you stand up and almost run out into the hall, pressing the elevator up. Staring at the buttons feeling like dogshit. Your brain is running its mouth, something you have gotten better at keeping in, is the outside talking. It’s still a part of you, but you hope it won't always be. It’s the only way people will listen, if you talk so much they can't look away, can’t ignore you. But at the same time you feel like they never do hear you. Tears welling in your eyes despite this being insanely stupid. The elevator doors open and you step in with a choked breath, someone slips in behind you. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks slowly while hitting the elevator button.

“No.” 

He had seen you get nervous but never really freak out. your fists clenched, Skin pale, teeth chattering. You had told him. Only him. A bit about your mom and family.

“What’s happened sweetheart? ” He says with his arm gently landing on your shoulder.

You feel insanely stupid. You walk out of the elevator into the parking lot.

“My mom texted.”

“Oh god, are you okay?”

“Not really, I'm sorry.” My voice starts to break, you bite your lip. “She found out where I work. What am I going to do? Is she going to tell people, make up rumors? Try to get me to come back? I keep my life secret for a REASON. I don’t know how she found out. Do you think someone here told her? I-”

His arms wrap around you and grip you intensely. He takes your arms and places them  around his waist. His hand lands on your head, stroking soft patterns into your hair. Gentle. Your hot cheek pressing  firmly against the cool vest that’s wrapped around his chest. You exhale into his arms. He cups your cheek and caresses it slowly.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. She can’t hurt you.”

Words that make you melt. You nuzzle into his neck. Just to stay for another minute. Breathing in the scent of fresh laundry, books, and coffee. The only person you'd ever feel so comfortable to hold, and to let hold you, is him. You let go, you know if you don't now you won't ever want to. He looks down at you, for a little too long, then takes your still shaking hand and begins to walk into the elevator. You follow him.  

That night, you cried a lot. Feeling so vulnerable that she knows where you are, god and probably who you're with. It’s always power with her. Can’t leave you alone but doesn’t love you enough to actually talk to you, to want you.  

Couple days later

Now, You're on a case, in Canada. Triple homicide of teen girls. Typical, yet always disgusting. you're currently in the car, being driven to the nearest motel. You're sitting in the middle of the back, next to Spencer and Emily. You pull out the seatbelt to make it budge and lay your head on it. Uncomfortable, sure, but when you’re exhausted nothing else but rest matters. You start to drift asleep, smelling the leather of the seatbelt, and feeling it rub and glide against your skin.  Hearing faint voices and the feeling of being carried out of the car feeling so warm. The subtle smell of coffee floating in the air.

You wake up. Soft hotel bed sheets cuddled into your arms, the familiar smell of well- Spencer, fills your nose. He’s next to you, looking so peaceful with the sunlight hitting him at the most cruel angle, shining on the curve of his nose, the curls of his brown husky hair. He looks so beautiful. All you want to do is lay in his arms and sink into his skin. It's truly tiring loving someone knowing what’s swimming beneath your eyes, in your mind. You know you'd love him and all of his horrors, you hope someone will love you and yours. His eyes flicker open, and land on yours.

“Mornin.” He mutters sleepily. It makes your heart flutter. 

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” You ask while sitting up to stretch. He does the same. 

He looks at you and gives you a lazy smile, “Pretty good, I’m assuming you did too?”

“Yeah, yeah. But who moved me out of the car? That's the last thing I remember.”

“I did. I carried you from there onto the lobby couch, then to our room while we were getting checked in, since I was carrying you, they decided everybody should share, and we all agreed.”  

You both stare at each other for a little while until you mumble, “Thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He says as you both get up to get dressed and start the day.

 He just stares at you, with a look in his eyes, a feeling that you can’t make out. 

“For everything. For carrying me in, and always listening to the things i say, for being so sweet, and cute, and hugging me, calming me down,  for not ignoring me or wishing i would shut up, or atleast making it seem like you don’t want me to shut up, for spending time with me and making jokes with me, and making me fall in love with you-. Shit. Im sorry. Fuck. Just forget it.” You rub your hands over your face and rub your eyes, “sorry.”

“Okay I’m really sorry.” You mumble.

…

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you when you ramble, when you’re a stuttering mess, when you’re crying, when you’re scared, I love you when you get excited about things like coffee mugs, I love you so much when you’re laughing, when you smile and your whole face lights up. I love you when you get these ideas and they’re so smart I start to feel stupid. I love you when your teeth are chattering and you’re freaking out. I love you how you are- and I will love you forever.” He says so passionately that your knees feel weak. His hands cup your cheeks, silky smooth fingers and rough harsh fingertips. You kiss him, You kiss him like nothing else matters. Morning breath? Maybe, but the taste of loving Spencer Reid is stronger. He returns the favour and pushes you into him, his hands exploring your hips and waist, pulling you up into his arms. You nuzzle into his neck yet again and leave soft peppered pecks along his jawline and down his neck. He dances his fingertips up and down your palm and locks your fingers together.

“I love you, Spence.”

“God I love you too, Beautiful.”

Anyway bonus because im bored

Spencer's POV of carrying you out of the car!!

I see her laying against the seatbelt, a soft trail of drool tipping off the edge of the leather. I swear she’s the prettiest thing. We stop at the hotel, Hotch says, 

“Should we wake her up?”

“No. I’ll take her in.” I add while gently unbuckling the seatbelt. Stopping to stare at her for only a second, or 20. A pang hits my heart as I just remember how much she worries, hoping she’s at least at peace in her sleep. I wrap my arms under her, slowly lifting her from the seat. She leans into my chest and I swear it’s the cutest thing I've ever seen. I love her so much. We get inside and I lay her down on the lobby couch, sitting by her side, her head now in my lap. I brush the hair from her face as softly as I can. We get checked in and I pick her up again and carry her into the room, silent footsteps down the hall.

I place her on the bed, take off her shoes, and put the covers over her. Suddenly she's awake, and I tell her to go back to sleep, but she insists on changing into her pjs. Apparently sleeping without them is torture. She’s perfect. Now she’s knocked right out, clinging to the bedsheets, pulling them all on top of her. Doesn’t matter. Rather freeze then take them away from her anyway. I go over today's events, and the last couple days, months, and the day she first got here, looking so beautiful, being so lovely and kind.

When I first met her she talked my head off, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear what she had to say, and it wasn't at all stupid. There's a part of me that used to talk a lot. That part is slowly coming back with her. I want her in my arms, I drift asleep thinking of a life with her.

luv yall