#no solid plans for these yet but if there’s one thing you always want to keep on hand it’s 150 lbs of fireworks

[ruushes]

goofy fun pranking times ahead

[maximoffsgirl]

Peace in Chaos

summary: You can’t say no to the twins; Wanda, can’t say no to you. It’s a dynamic that often works in their favor—especially when they desperately want something. The twins know that, if all else fails, they can rely on you to soften Wanda’s resolve, even if they trick you along the way.

warnings: Established relationship, Wanda and Reader are married. Domestic Life. The twins are close to 7/8 years old. Wanda is referred as mama/mom, Y/N is referred as mommy. Otherwise, I think there's none, this is pure fluff

author's note: English isn't my first language :) and to the anon who requested this, I hope this is what you were thinking about❤️

word count: 3.311

not proofread!

When Wanda first joined the Avengers, she spent much of her time locked away inside the room they designated as hers, finding solace in the company of old books she had never had the chance to read before. Among those books, she stumbled upon a collection of poetry and came across a single phrase, quoted by Emily Dickinson; a phrase which was still written at the beginning of the diary Clint had gifted her for Christmas when the Avengers Tower became her home: "The heart wants what it wants, or else it does not care."

At first, Wanda found the phrase peculiar. How could her heart, which had never known a single day of peace, possibly want anything? Yet, as time passed, she began to understand. It was precisely because her heart had endured so much chaos that it longed for something different.

Stability was a foreign concept to Wanda. Her life had always been beyond her control, and when her powers came into the picture, they only added to the turmoil. But the constant inconsistency made Wanda’s heart want one thing more than anything in the whole world. A family.

She yearned for a family like the one she once had. A family she could come home to at the end of the day, where she could sink into the couch with the weight of the week pressing down on her shoulders - an uncomfortable ache, yet in a place where she felt comfortable. An environment where a television program no one was really watching played softly in the background while someone shared the details of their day. Wanda’s heart craved for care and tenderness, something solid yet gentle—a sanctuary that felt soft, safe, and unshakably real.

After the life she had lived—always running, fighting, and losing—it felt almost unbelievable that Wanda now had everything she had ever wanted cradled in her arms. Hard to believe, I know. But with your head resting against her chest, your body nestled between her legs as you scrolled through your phone, Wanda was certain that she needed nothing more. She closed her eyes  briefly, letting herself savor the peace, the warmth, and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

The sounds from your phone mingled with the lively chatter drifting down from upstairs, where the twins were deeply immersed in a passionate debate about something. It was chaos. But it was her chaos. A chaos that she chose and was looking forward to every single day live in. 

“Hm? What are you doing?” Wanda asked, her arms tightening around you as you started to move. Her voice was soft but carried a hint of reluctance. She tilted her head a little to the side, wanting to know what you were planning. 

You turned to face her, a small smile on your lips. “We forgot to put the plates in the dishwasher,” you replied casually, as if that alone was enough reason to leave Wanda's embrace. To your wife, it definitely wasn't.

Wanda let out a low, drawn-out groan, clearly unenthusiastic about you leaving the comfort of her body pressed against yours. She held you a little tighter, silently protesting your attempt to get up.

“Don’t you need to finish your mission report?” you teased gently, raising an eyebrow at her reaction. Your words made her sigh in mild defeat. She had mentioned earlier that she needed to wrap up her mission report after dinner. It wasn’t a task she enjoyed—especially when it meant sacrificing time with you—but it was something she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she hated it.

“I do,” she complained, her tone carrying a mix of annoyance and reluctance. Her thumb gently brushed against your cheek. It was obvious she didn’t want to move, but the mission report wasn’t going to complete itself.

Before either of you could say more, a sudden, loud noise from upstairs interrupted the moment. Both your heads turned toward the ceiling in unison. Wanda frowned, her brows knitting together as she stared at the source of the commotion.

“What are they doing up there?” she muttered, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a hint of irritation.

“Probably destroying your things,” you joke, smirking at her. Wanda didn’t share your amusement; instead, she shot you a stern look, her concern evident. That only made you chuckle softly.

“Relax, baby” you murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips, your way of soothing her. With a lazy stretch, you slipped out of her warm embrace, earning a soft groan of protest as you stood. “I’ll get the dishes,” you said with a playful shrug, heading toward the kitchen while Wanda remained on the couch. 

She reached out for you, calling your name with a playful pout on her lips, as if trying to coax you back into her arms. But all she got in response was a teasing kiss blown in the air, followed by a few more chuckles from you. "You're impossible," Wanda muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched, hinting at a smile she couldn’t quite suppress

A few minutes later, Wanda mirrored your actions with a resigned sigh. With a stretch and a yawn, she slowly pushed herself off the couch, kissing your shoulder once she moved past the kitchen to her home office. She opened the door with another huff, the thought of that mission report weighed heavily on her, already draining her energy before she even began.

As peaceful as the silence was, it didn’t last longer than fifteen minutes—a brief reprieve, but in a house with twins, it felt like a blessing. The twins knew better than to disturb Wanda when her office door was closed, understanding the importance of letting her work in peace. However, today was different. They had something important to ask her, and they were certain that mama wouldn’t mind being interrupted if it was truly important.

Wanda, ever attuned to the sounds around her, heard the soft footsteps and hushed whispers before the three gentle knocks echoed on her office door. She glanced down at the mission report in front of her, then dropped her pen onto the pile of papers near the notebook, her attention fully shifting to the interruption. 

“Yes?” she called out, her voice loud enough to reach her sons, signaling they had permission to enter.

The door creaked open slightly, and two sets of curious eyes peeked through the gap. First, Tommy, with his usual impatience, then Billy, who always seemed a bit more cautious. Their wide eyes and raised eyebrows said it all—they had something to ask. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, her stern demeanor softening instantly. She gestured for them to come in, her smile softening as she watched them shuffle inside, their little hands fidgeting with each other in anticipation.

“Is everything alright?” Wanda asked, her voice filled with the kind of tenderness that only a mother could provide.

The twins, true to their age, began poking and nudging each other, whispering in hushed tones while they stood in front of their mother - who was looking at them with amusement as they continued to argue who would be the one to initiate the conversation. 

“Mom, we have something super important to ask. But… promise you’re going to listen first” Billy tried to negotiate, his little feet shuffled nervously as he spoke. Tommy, by his side, nodded his head in support, his wide-eyed expression practically daring Wanda to disagree.

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched her boys’ antics. Leaning back in her chair, she murmured a soft, “Okay…” her tone amused yet curious, ready to hear what the twins were planning. 

“So.. we saw something on the internet..”

That wasn’t entirely true. Long before the twins were even born, you and Wanda had agreed, in a heartful parenting talk, that unrestricted internet access wouldn’t be part of your children’s childhood. That being established, the closest the twins got to the “internet” was their tablets - with a few games they begged to have since all their friends were active on and the little maximoffs were being left out- streaming shows, and, on some occasions like weekends, YouTube videos.

Still, Wanda stayed quiet, her expression neutral as she listened to Tommy’s words. Even if he couldn’t possibly get whatever their idea was from the ‘internet; more likely, he was just saying it as an excuse to shift the responsibility off himself and his brother. 

“And we wanted to try.. We wanted to have a night pool party”

Wanda arched an eyebrow, glancing between her sons with growing curiosity. She had a sneaking suspicion about where this was headed but decided to feign ignorance, opting to play along.

"A night pool party..." Wanda repeated slowly, dragging out the words with a hint of amusement as she looked at her sons. Her lips twitched with a barely suppressed smile. "And where would this happen, exactly?"

"Here! Tonight! We've already planned everything," Tommy blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement.

Billy immediately hissed at his brother, shooting him a sharp glare. That definitely wasn’t part of the carefully rehearsed convincing speech they had agreed on beforehand. 

Wanda frowned, her amusement fading. If it were any other season, the idea might not have bothered her as much. But her sons wanting to swim in the freezing water of the pool outside? That was a firm no. The idea would only serve so they’d catch a cold and be miserable for the rest of the week. Besides, late hours weren’t meant for pool parties—especially not in this weather and not with the age they had. 

There they stood in front of her: matching cozy pajamas, hair lazily brushed back, and fresh-faced from their recent bath. They looked absolutely adorable, and Wanda couldn’t bear the thought of letting their idea ruin that. Spring was just around the corner, and while her children were undeniably the cutest in the world, she had no interest in dealing with two sick little ones—especially when even the smallest sneeze turned them into impossibly needy bundles of chaos.

“No. It's not even hot.” she simply replied, looking back to the now black screen of her notebook. 

“But mom,” the twins protested in unison, their voices carrying the familiar tone of pleading.

Wanda, however, was unmoved. Her decision was final, and she wasn’t about to budge. Crossing her arms, she gave them a firm but gentle look that clearly said, not happening.

“No is no, boys. I’m not going to repeat myself. When it's hotter we can think about it”

The twins left her office with matching little huffs, their quiet complaints trailing behind them. They knew better than to argue further or try to reason with their mother—her decision was final, as always.

But the twins, as stubborn as any Maximoff to ever walk the Earth, weren’t ready to give up just yet. Instead, they exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them. They’d just have to come up with another strategy.

It was no secret that, between you and Wanda, you were the parent more likely to entertain the wild ideas your sons came up with. Camping in the backyard? Of course. Nearly a liter of milkshake, even if it was freezing outside? Without a doubt. If it sounded fun, you were usually on board.

You didn’t blame Wanda for seeing things differently. After everything she had endured in her life, control and structure brought her a sense of peace she had rarely known before. Ensuring that the household stayed balanced and comfortable wasn’t just her way of parenting—it was her way of feeling secure.

But that didn’t make her the “boring parent.” If you asked the twins, they’d insist that mama was just as fun as mommy. Sure, she was a little scarier when she got angry, but that only made her the perfect balance to your more carefree approach.

Although they knew better than anyone how to take advantage of your different personalities.

At times like this, when Billy and Tommy had their hearts set on something, they knew they could always count on you to try convincing Wanda to let them have their way.

Sometimes it didn’t work—after all, undermining Wanda’s authority wasn’t part of your parenting playbook, nor was it in hers. But there were moments when a little push for compromise didn’t hurt, especially for something harmless enough to reconsider.

That’s why you felt two little fingers poking each of your shoulders while you scrolled through your phone on the couch. Turning around, you were met with the two most adorable faces you’d ever seen.

“Hi, boys. Already tired of breaking the house upstairs?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

They responded with cheeky smiles, and without a word, Billy climbed up to sit beside you on the couch, Tommy quickly settling in next to his brother. Their mischievous grins told you they had something up their sleeves.

“Mommy…” Billy trailed off, his voice sweet and direct. “Can we have a swim party tonight?”

His question was much more straightforward than Tommy’s had been when they’d asked Wanda.

You frowned slightly at the idea. The weather wasn’t exactly cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm enough to make a pool party seem like the best choice. You thought about it for a moment. The pool was clean, they’d have fun, and it might tire them out enough for an easy bedtime.

“Hm. Why not?” you said with a shrug, giving in to their request. The twins smiled, happy to finally receive a ‘yes’ to their idea. 

“Can you convince mama then?” Tommy asked eagerly, his excitement practically radiating off him. Billy let out another huff, clearly annoyed by his brother's impatience.

You turned your body to face them, a sigh escaping your lips as you realized you'd fallen for one of their tricks, again

“Don’t turn this on me, boys,” you said, shaking your head. But when they hit you with those puppy-dog eyes, you knew you were in trouble. You sighed again, giving in.

“Okay, I guess I could try to convince her... but if she doesn’t budge, I won’t try again, alright?”

The twins nodded eagerly, their smiles growing wider once they got you to agree with their idea. You ruffled both of their messy hairs playfully before standing up, a smile tugging at your lips as you made your way toward Wanda’s office. The twins’ giggles echoed behind you, but you knew you had your work cut out for you if you were going to convince Wanda.

Just like your sons, you approached Wanda’s office quietly, giving a few light knocks before stepping inside. Wanda, who was about halfway through her report, looked up and smiled at the sight of you. Grateful for the excuse to take a break, she rolled her chair back slightly and patted her lap, inviting you to sit.

You settled sideways on her lap, and Wanda wasted no time wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you close, sighing with the familiar weight of your body upon hers

“How’s it going?” you asked, your fingers working gently at the tense muscles in her neck. Wanda let out a soft sigh, her smile a blend of contentment and fatigue.

“Annoying, as always,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of frustration. Her hand drifted to your thigh, her fingers lightly running over the fabric in soothing motions as she added with a small smile, “But I’m halfway through it”.

“You know... the twins mentioned something about a night swim tonight,” you said casually, your tone light but deliberate. “And, apparently, I’ve been tasked with convincing you,” you added playfully, though there was a touch of seriousness behind your words.

“Have you now?” Wanda replied, her voice mirroring your playful tone but laced with even more amusement. She arched an eyebrow knowingly, already piecing together where this conversation was heading.

“I know you already said no, but they’re so excited about it, Wands,” you said, trying to play the kids’ happiness card against her. Wanda rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She saw right through your game but decided to let you play it anyway.

“And just think about it,” you continued, your hands gently moving along her neck, down to her shoulders, and back up again in soothing motions. “We can turn on the pool LEDs, make it fun. They’ll tire themselves out, and bedtime will be so much easier.”

You laid out the positives, your tone soft but persuasive, waiting patiently for her response.

“Love.. I know. But it’s late and It’s not even hot” She tried to resonate with you, sighing with each argument, knowing she has already lost. 

“They’ll be alright, babe. Let them have this,” you said with a convincing smile.”

Wanda let out a heavy sigh, her expression unamused as she looked at you. “If they catch a cold, you will be the one taking care of them,” she said firmly, pointing a finger at you for emphasis.

But despite her words, you both knew the truth. If that scenario played out, Wanda would be right there, rolling her eyes but still doting on the sick twins, as she always did.

You stayed wrapped in her embrace for a while, both of you savoring the quiet presence of each other. Wanda adjusted you on her lap, shifting just enough to free both hands so she could continue working on her report. You rested your head against her shoulder, your warm breath brushing against her neck, which made her smile softly despite her focus on the task.

The content of the report didn’t matter to you now—you’d already heard all about the mission the day after she got home. So you stayed quiet, simply enjoying the comforting warmth of her body and the peaceful moment you were sharing.

After that,  you and Wanda made your way to the living room, stepping in quietly. The twins were curled up on the couch, watching something on Netflix, completely oblivious to your arrival. Wanda stepped forward, arms crossed, hands on her hips, and her head tilted in mock frustration.

“I can’t believe you both!” she exclaimed, her tone sharp and disapproving.

The twins froze, their eyes widening as they turned to face you both. Wanda’s intimidating stance and your almost-guilty expression made them shrink in their spots, unsure of what they’d done.

“What are you two doing? You should be getting ready for the swim party!” Wanda said, feigning exasperation but failing to hide the faint twitch of a smile.

The twins blinked at her, then at each other, before springing up from the couch in pure joy. “Oh my god, seriously?!” Tommy shouted.

“YESSS!” Billy cheered, both of them jumping around excitedly as they circled their mothers, their energy contagious.

Soon, the house transformed into its familiar brand of chaos. The twins, now dressed in their swimsuits, were already splashing around in the pool, the colorful glow of the LED lights—courtesy of Tony Stark—dancing across the water. Their laughter echoed through the backyard, only occasionally interrupted by shouts of, "It's so cold!" Wanda, unimpressed, responded with a dramatic eye roll, her arms folded across her chest.

Standing at the edge of the pool, Wanda kept her distance, her arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she watched the scene unfold. She made no effort to join the fun, choosing instead to watch with a raised eyebrow and an air of feigned detachment. Yet, the slight tug at the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement.

Somehow, despite her initial objections, Wanda found a sense of peace in the chaos surrounding her. The sound of Tommy and Billy's laughter brought a soft smile to her face, and she even chuckled at your playful teasing—directed at both her and the twins.

Two days later, the inevitable happened. The twins began sneezing, and you found yourself on the receiving end of a very pointed lecture from Wanda. But, as always, her frustration melted away with a sweet kiss, leaving her shaking her head in exasperated affection.

It was a different kind of chaos—one filled with sniffles, tissues, and extra cuddles—but it was hers. Wanda’s heart had finally found something. Had finally found peace in the beautiful mess of it all.

✄╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it💌

masterlist

[tune-on-in-folks]

Day 11. Yet again I had to force myself to stop editing and rewriting this one. If things seem a little out of place, that's why. Haha. Something about the deer-man has me rewriting over and over. Anywhozle, enjoy a rut fic with the Radio Demon!

Tags/Warnings: fem!reader, deer!reader, p in v sex, top!Alastor, rut, heat, mating, kinda A/B/O because of that, creampie, chasing, blood consumption, marking, biting, reader is very confused. Word Count: 3,550

It was mid-October and the Hotel was alight with activity. Charlie had decided that the Hotel needed to be decorated from the highest floors to the ground-floor lobby. It was one of her latest plans to help with team-building. And who didn’t enjoy Halloween or decorating? Alastor had withdrawn himself from the activities, not giving a really solid reason to why. But since he often didn’t indulge in the activities of the Hotel, Charlie freed him from his duties as hotelier for the time being. And for once, Alastor was thankful to be free of work.

He had been in Hell for many years, so he was well aware that every year, around mid-October, his rut started. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a deer demon. Each season was different as well, sometimes the lust that his rut brought was easily manageable. Other times it nearly suffocated him. He refused to indulge in the primal urges of his body, never once, in all of his years in Hell, taking a mate. This year, he planned to do much of the same. Tuck himself away in his room, relieve the rut himself for as long as it would last, and be done with it.

He didn’t account for you.

You were a deer demon like him, which lent itself to a sort of camaraderie between the both of you. He enjoyed your presence more than he was willing to admit, and found himself caring for you. You softened his edges, made his heart skip a beat. You were intriguing, enchanting, you drew him in. You were a weakness that he refused to disclose to anyone, you included. Alastor knew you were fairly new to Hell, but hadn’t expected you to be clueless about your own nature. About what your very presence would do to him, come mid-October.

A few days ago, Alastor had started to avoid you. Which had hurt, even though you were certain it was unintentional on his part. He was busy, you knew that, and you couldn’t expect him to spend every waking moment listening to your silly stories. But how you missed him. You were thoroughly unaware why he was avoiding you. Unaware of why your very body seemed to crave his presence more than usual. You adored the Radio Demon. While most at the Hotel feared him, you sought him out, wanting to be near him. Everyone else avoided him, which meant he was typically always free for you to pester while helping him with tasks. Your feelings of wanting him near just intensified as mid-October rolled around. And you were starting to get annoyed that he was avoiding you. Your first thought was that he was busy, but then you started worrying that you had done something wrong, maybe insulted him accidentally. You were prepared to make it up to him.

You awoke early in the morning, sweat sticking your hair to your face and a low arousal building in your stomach. You didn’t think too much of it, having woken up much the same, the last few days. You were unaware that you were entering your first ever heat-cycle. So you got up, made sure you looked fairly presentable, and headed out of your room. It was extremely early, no one else was up. The Hotel was eerily quiet, but peaceful nonetheless. You made your way to Alastor’s bedroom, knowing that he rose before the sun most mornings. It was the perfect time to approach him. In the privacy of the early morning, you were certain you could speak to him about why he was avoiding you. You knew he was busy, but hoped he’d spare a moment for you, especially first thing in the morning.

You arrived at his door, raising your hand up to rap your knuckles gently against the wood. The sound was surprisingly loud in the quiet stillness that covered the Hotel. You wondered for a moment, if perhaps Alastor wasn’t up at all, if you should come back later. But then you heard shuffling, your ears twitching as they picked up the sound. The door opened a crack a moment later and Alastor appeared. You took in his appearance, feeling yourself blush at his level of undress. He was in pajamas, the shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely from his frame. It felt almost scandalous seeing his chest and stomach exposed when he typically wore layers. He froze, his smile straining as he took in your similar appearance. Shorts that were high above your knees, and a shirt that was cut much too low- exposing quite an expansive amount of your cleavage. He shifted forward, aware of your scent, the pheromones rolling off you in thick waves. At the same time he moved forward, your sharp nose picked up his scent. A mix of his cologne and something that was uniquely him. Just the whiff of him had more heat pooling between your legs. Much to your annoyance and confusion.

“May I help you, my dear?” His voice was hoarse, sounding strained as his claws dug into the edge of the door.

“I…” You begin, swallowing as more arousal flooded through you. “I wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Fine.” Was his curt reply, his ears pressed flat against his head as he struggled to maintain control with you so near.

You were in the beginning of your heat and here you were coming to his door, flaunting your scent around him. He had never once smelt something so enticing, something that had his cock twitching to life in an instant. His body craved release, craved to give into his rut. Into the primal side of his nature and breed, much to his annoyance. He was startled by how intense his rut got with you being so near. It was taking everything in him not to pull you into his room and fuck you against the door.

“Is that all?” He asks, moving to close the door.

“No, I wanted to speak to you actually.” You take a step forward, your eyes catching on the sweat on his brow, his typically perfect hair was messy.

A flash of concern runs through you, you wonder if he was getting unwell. You take another step forward, your body responding to his presence, to the scent rolling off him in thick waves. You didn’t understand why he smelt so good, better than usual. You didn’t understand why you were so wet, so aroused. Why you wanted Alastor to pin you against the wall and fuck you. You were completely clueless, banishing your thoughts as best you could. It wasn’t the first time such fantasies crossed your mind, so you thought nothing more of them.

“You look unwell, Alastor.” You say softly, reaching your hand up to brush against his forehead, his skin scalding beneath your touch.

He flinched at your touch, his hand grasping your wrist tightly, pulling it away. Guilt flooded you as you realized what you had done. You were typically so careful, being respectful of his boundaries, and never touching him without his express permission.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaim, face flushed in embarrassment.

Your mind was torn between being apologetic and the distracting feeling of his hand encircling your wrist in warmth. Why did just a simple touch have more heat pooling between your thighs? You needed to get a grip on yourself before you did or said something embarrassing. Alastor’s lips pulled back into a slight snarl, his control over his body slipping. He yanks you closer to the door, closer to him.

“Ah! Al!” You object as he opens the door further, pulling you into his room.

The door slams shut behind you, the lock clicking a moment later. For the first time since you had met the Radio Demon, a cold fear runs through you as you tumble to the floor. You turn around, watching him approach you. His eyes were dark with a predatory look that had you shivering, arousal cutting through your fear.

“You wanted to speak to me, so speak!” He demands, his smile straining.

“I-Alastor, are you okay?” You ask, pushing yourself to your feet, concern for him overriding everything else.

Static picks up around him, the sound deafening as he attempts to control his instincts. “I’m beginning not to be. Pray tell, what are you bothering me for?”

You swallow nervously, ears pressing down against your head as discontent swirls in your stomach. You didn’t like his sharp tone or the fact that he was clearly very annoyed by your presence.

“You’ve been avoiding me. I wanted to know if I’ve done something wrong.” You finally whisper, looking away from him.

Alastor laughs, sounding almost gleeful. The sound startles you enough to look back at him. 

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” He asks, voice strained, radio effect in full swing.

“What?” You ask, head tilting to the side in confusion. “What are you talking about? Have I done something wrong?”

He advances on you, each step full of intent. “My dear, I knew you were new to Hell, but not this new. Are you unaware of what season it is?” 

Your brows furrow as you take a step back. “It’s October.”

He laughs again, eyes crinkling with mirth. “Yes, my dear, it is. And what happens to deers in October?”

You frown. “They mate? What are you getting at?”

Alastor stops in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you against him. “You truly are clueless, my little doe.”

“What?” You ask slightly insulted. 

“You.” He gestures to you as if that would explain everything. “My dear, are in heat.”

“I’m in what now?” You respond, head tilting in confusion once again.

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger, correcting your head tilt. “Heat. You’re aroused right now, wanting, craving. Desperate and needy.”

You flush at his words, a bit embarrassed that he managed to see through you so easily. “H-how did you…?”

“Know?” He prompts, his mouth grazing against your lips teasingly. “Because my dear, I’m in the midst of my rut myself. And you smell divine.” 

His lips brush against your neck, his nose bumping against your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath hitching at how close he is. With Alastor this close you can really smell his cologne and that musky scent beneath it. It does nothing but fan the flames rapidly building in your gut, your arousal growing. His hands find your hips, dragging you closer.

“Alastor?” You whisper, swallowing thickly as his mouth trails against your neck.

“Yes, my dear?” He asks softly, his tongue running along your sensitive skin.

You shiver at his touch, not having realized how feverish you felt until the touch of his mouth cooled your flushed skin.

“What’s happening to me?” you ask, a soft whimper falling from your lips as you pressed against him. “Why do I feel like this? Why do you make me feel like this?”

He chuckled, the sound low and baritone, sending more arousal pooling. “I told you, my dear. You’re in heat. Your body is craving a mate. To be taken, fucked, filled. Bred.”

You gasp, a soft, breathy moan falling from your lips as he kisses up your neck.

“And unfortunately for you, you came to me. So now I’m going to do just that.” He promises.

Your eyes flutter open at his words, at what that means for you. His words were not completely clicking yet, your arousal clouding the logical side of your mind.

“Alastor…” you breathe, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.

His eyes shone with an unnatural light, intensifying the reds and pinks. Alastor turns you around so that you’re facing the pocket dimension in his room, grinding his hips against your lower back. Your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his erection.

He whispers in your ear, his breath fanning over the skin, making you feel both feverish and freezing all at once. “You’re going to run my dear. And when I catch you, I’m going to claim you as mine. Mate you.”

You feel Alastor take a step back, releasing his hold on you. You glance back at him, a mix of emotions warring within you. It was quickly becoming apparent that perhaps seeking Alastor out wasn’t such a grand idea. Especially when you didn’t exactly understand what was happening to you. Why you felt so feverish, why his scent alone was making you so aroused. He had mentioned deers and their mating season. It clicked in your mind then.

“I’m in heat?” You ask.

He meets your gaze, his smile softening despite the almost feral look in his eyes. “Yes, my little doe. An unfortunate side effect for us. A season you will go through every year around this time. Now do get running, you are wasting precious time.”

You face back towards the pocket dimension. The idea of running from Alastor, of him chasing you and catching you, was just making you more aroused. 

Your feet moved on their own, propelling you forward as you set off. You tried to pace yourself, wondering just how long this chase could go on. You knew you wanted him to catch you, to pull you down into the mud of his bayou, and fuck you sensless. You took a shaky breath, turning abruptly to the left, weaving past trees, jumping over roots. You let the primal side of you take over, knowing your instincts would lead you when your logical mind was still grappling with the fact that you were in heat.

“Here I come, my little doe!” Alastor’s voice rang out, far too cheerful and full of promise.

His voice surrounds you, as though he was right behind you. You speed up, a thrill running through your entire body. Unfortunately for yourself, your body was quickly wearing down. You can feel yourself slowing, the adrenaline you'd started with faltering. At the sound of branches snapping underfoot, you glance behind you. You gasp, seeing Alastor closing the space between the both of you effortlessly. You were breathing hard, your muscles burning with the strain as you ran. Yet he barely seemed to be breaking a sweat. You look forward again, in enough time to barely avoid running straight into a tree. You stumble over a root, barely able to catch yourself. Your stumble is enough for Alastor to close the distance between you totally. He tackles you to the ground.

A fresh wave of adrenaline pumps through you, your body writhing beneath him as he pins you down. You attempt to kick his legs only for him to pin them beneath his. His knee spreads your legs, bumping right against your sensitive core. He pins your hands above your body, his face burying against your neck.

“Got you.” He whispers, rolling his hips against you.

You whine, the fight immediately leaving your body completely as desire replaces your adrenaline. Alastor shifts above you, his claws gliding seamlessly through your shorts and panties beneath. Your clothes fall from your frame in shreds, a gasp spilling from you. The cold, autumn air of the bayou fans over your hot core, only adding to your desire. He shreds your shirt next, his mouth finding yours as he frees his throbbing cock from his sweatpants. You moan as he nudges the throbbing tip of it against your entrance. Alastor sits back, running his cock through your slick folds, bumping into your clit.

“I’m going to mate you, my dear. Make you mine completely.” He presses the tip against your entrance again, rocking his hips forward.

You whimper as he nudges your entrance open, already stretching you with a delicious burn. You try to pry your hands free from his grip as he presses inside you. You wanted to grab ahold of him, to brace yourself as he began to enter you. He was thick and long, much bigger than you had ever taken before.

“Alastor!” You moan, thrashing against his hold. “You're so big!”

He smirks, his ego clearly being stroked, he leans down to capture your lips as he slid deeper inside you.

“That’s it my doe, you’re taking my cock so well. Just a little more to go.” He praises, continuing to push inch by inch inside you.

You gasp, your back arching in an attempt to pull away from him, while also rolling down onto his invading cock. “Too much! Alastor, it’s too much, you’re too big. You won’t fit!”

He chuckles, his mouth trailing kisses and nips all the way down your neck. “I assure you, darling. I’ll fit. And you-” He thrusts forward, raming in completely. “Will take me all.”

Another gasp falls from your lips, your hands twisting in his grasp as he bottoms out. His cock is pressed deep inside you, deeper than you thought was possible. His cock-head rests against your cervix, pressed right against it. His length feels impossibly hot, warming you from the inside out against the chill of the bayou. Alastor slowly withdraws his cock, leaving the tip inside, before he thrusts back into you. His hips snap against yours, causing you to cry out in both pain and pleasure. He repeats the movement, the time between each thrust shortening, until he’s fucking you hard and fast. The ground beneath the two of you depresses from your combined weight. Every thrust moves your body an inch or two away from him, only for Alastor to drag you back down against him. You moan loudly, cries filling the air and drowning out any sounds of the surrounding nature.

“That’s it.” He praises, “Taking me so well. You look absolutely darling on my cock, dear.”

Alastor drags your body up, shifting back on his haunches and bringing you up with him. The change in position allows him to fuck up into you, his cock sliding deeper. Breathless moans fell from your mouth, loud and wanton.

“Alastor-” You gasp, barely able to get out his name with how much pleasure you were feeling. “Please.”

He chuckles, twisting your hands beneath your back. It was unfair how unaffected he looked, as though he wasn’t also getting off to fucking you.

“What is it, my little doe?” He murmurs, pressing kiss after kiss against your neck, rubbing his scent against you.

“I’m so close-” You manage to say, eyes rolling back into your head as he bounces you on his cock.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every touch of his cooled you down while also stroking the arousal in your body. He presses forward, his pubic bone pressing against your clit with every thrust.

Alastor lowers his mouth to the crook of your neck, licking away the salty sweat of your skin. “Then cum for me.”

As though he had complete control over your body, your orgasm rips through you. You yell out loudly, your walls squeezing around his cock. Your release coats your thighs and his lower stomach. The sensation of your walls squeezing around his cock is too much for him. Alastor bites down on your shoulder harshly, drawing blood, marking you. He pulls you down onto his cock as he thrusts up into you, hips stuttering as he spills his seed inside you. Hot ropes of cum spill into your waiting, fertile womb. Your body shivers at the intensity of your combined pleasure. Alastor keeps rolling against you, gently thrusting as he fucks his seed deeper inside you.

“Ah- Al-astor!” You whimper, your body overly sensitive to his every touch.

He slows to a stop, buried balls deep inside you, his teeth still deeply embedded in your shoulder. He pulls away, releasing your shoulder from his mouth. Fresh wells of blood spill from the wound that he quickly laps up. The image of him lapping up your blood, his face covered in it, while his cock was buried inside you, was sinful. You shivered involuntarily, his cock remaining hard inside you.

You swallow down another whimper and voice the question you were dreading asking. “How long does this last?”

Alastor meets your gaze, his expression softening. “The rut lasts about a month, and breeding you can last anywhere from forty-eight to seventy-two hours. But worry not, my dear, I’ll make sure your every need is taken care of for the entire month. You’re my mate now, after all.”

You feel your blood drain from your face as the length of time clicks in your mind. If that was the case then you and Alastor would be locked together for days on end. You adored him, but that was a lot.

“I don’t know if I can do that.” You whisper, your body already feeling sore from just one round with him.

He leans forward, capturing your mouth with his as he kisses you deeply. You can taste your blood on his tongue and are surprised by how much it turns you on. Alastor pulls away a moment later, resting his forehead against yours.

“Fret not, my little doe, you can.” He whispers, his voice dropping an octave lower than you were used to. “And you will.”

You shiver, you were in for a long month.

[girlkisser13]

dating percy jackson would include

• perseus jackson is the ULTIMATE boyfriend.

• you guys were friends first. all of the best relationships are built on the foundation of friendship. (friends to lovers supremacy)

• nothing really changes between the two of you. you’re still each other’s best friend. the only difference is that now you can kiss each other whenever you want to.

• the two of you are attached at the hip. like suddenly everything is a two person job?

• percy is obviously very protective of you. he knows that you can handle yourself but with everything he’s been through, he’d never be able to live with himself if you got hurt or worse.

• he 100% calls you pookie. in fact, the two of you have a plethora of ridiculous pet names that you call each other.

• babe, sweetie, sugarplum, snookums, honeybun, etc.

• percy remembers all of the little things!! it could be the tiniest detail ever, like exactly how much creamer you like to put in your coffee. he has a notes page in his phone dedicated to your food orders and all of your favorite things.

• since percy is the only person in his cabin, cabin sleep overs are a regular. you guys try to have them every couple of weeks and it's genuinely a mystery as to how you guys haven't been caught yet.

• the two of you are CONSTANTLY yapping with one each other about anything and everything. like one minute you two could be rambling about the camp drama, and then somehow you'd get into the meaning of life.

• it's kind of jarring to those around you because one second you and percy are laughing your asses off at the stupidest things then all of a sudden you guys are straight-faced, engaged in some super deep topic.

• BEACH DATES WITH PERCY>>>

• he loves going to the beach with you. he helps you with the hard to reach areas when you apply your sunscreen, lays down with you for a solid minute, and then run off to the waves.

• the majority of your dates with percy are pretty laidback. not to say that he isn't capable of planning something more romantic, because he can, it's just he prefers dates that feel more like hangouts.

• this man is always taking candid photos of you. all of the photos are all taken from really unflattering angles but he always thinks you look beautiful.

• he has an entire photo album dedicated to these photos of you. so be prepared for your birthday and your anniversary.

• this man is not afraid of a little pda. he loves holding your hand and playing with your fingers. the two of you are that couple who’s constantly making out with each other. he likes always knowing that you’re there and by his side.

• you and percy can communicate solely through eye contact.

• sometimes it does get annoying though. because now you're in the middle of a serious camp meeting, tearing up while attempting to hold in the loud cackle you're both about to let out. all because you looked at each other at the wrong moment.

• the two of you know each other so well that you know both know what move each other will make before you even make them.

• plus you’ve fought with each other for long that it’s basically second nature at this point. this man is your twin fr.

• you and sally are SUPER close. like sometimes percy gets annoyed because he feels like sally loves you more than him.

• the two of you have weekly gossip sessions at his house where percy pretends not to eavesdrop from outside of the door.

• overall, percy is an amazing boyfriend. 10/10 would date again. <33

[st4rpiece]

tall girl epidemic

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, kidd x reader summary: op men who love tall women CW: jealousy (kidd) but aside from that just fluff [specified reader physical traits include: height (obviously), body scars, and multiple different body types (chubby/curvy, buff/muscular, skinny/slim)]

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Monkey D. Luffy

Since meeting you, Luffy hasn’t stopped lifting you up into the air for the silliest reasons. He wants a snack? Suddenly, you’re in his arms, tagging along to the kitchen. Running from an enemy? There you are again, scooped up like you’re part of the escape plan. It didn’t matter the situation—if Luffy decided it was easier to carry you, he’d do it without hesitation.

At first, it caught you off guard. After all, you weren’t exactly small. At 6’5, you were taller than most, and your solid frame was a testament to years of training and battle. You weren’t delicate or light, and yet Luffy carried you like it was nothing, grinning all the while like hauling you around was as easy as lifting a feather.

“Doesn’t this ever get tiring?” you’d finally asked one day, your tone half-amused, half-exasperated as he picked you up for the third time in a single afternoon.

He tilted his head, flashing you that carefree smile of his. “Nope!”

“Seriously?”

He giggled, spinning you once before setting you down gently. “I just like having you in my arms! You’re fun to carry.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not a toy, Lu. If anything, I should be carrying you. It makes way more sense.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’ve carried me before,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the occasional over the shoulder ride after a battle evened the score. “So it’s only fair I get to carry you too!”

You didn’t have much of a rebuttal for that, so you just sighed and let him have his way. Truthfully, you didn’t mind all that much.

Being with Luffy was exciting—not just because of the adventures or the friends you’d made thanks to him, but because of how he made you feel. You’d never been the type to consider yourself “delicate” or “soft.” You were a warrior in your country, someone who had earned her place through grit and strength. Your body bore the scars of countless battles, and your imposing stature had always been enough to make others think twice before approaching you.

But none of that seemed to matter to Luffy.

He never treated you like you were intimidating or unreachable. Instead, he saw you in a way no one else ever had—as someone strong, yes, but also someone worth cherishing. He didn’t limit your freedom or strength, didn’t try to box you into a role that didn’t fit. But somehow, even with all that respect, he still managed to make you feel like a fragile princess in the best way.

And it was never in a way that undermined who you were. He’d wrap you up in his stretchy arms when you were upset, pulling you into one of his over-the-top hugs, but he’d laugh and tell you how cool you looked when you took down an opponent twice your size, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

“That was amazing!“ he’d say with the same enthusiasm he gave to talking about meat or a beetle, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It was strange at first, this mix of being treated like someone soft and someone indestructible, but Luffy had a way of balancing both without ever making it feel forced.

It was early in your relationship, when both developed the habit of sitting on the deck and watching the stars after dinner. You would fiddled with the brim of his hat that rested on your head as he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

“You know,” you started, your voice softer than usual, “I don’t really get you sometimes.”

“Huh? What’s there to get?” he asked, turning to look at you with wide, curious eyes.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Just… the way you treat me, I guess.”

“What about it?”

“It’s just different from what i’m use to,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to the deck. “Most people either treat me like I’m too strong to need anyone or that I’m not…feminine enough to deserve proper treatment.”

Luffy frowned at that, sitting up and tilting his head. “That’s dumb.”

You looked at him, a little startled by the bluntness of his response. “What?”

“They’re dumb,” he said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re strong and you’re pretty. Why would it be one or the other?”

His words were so straightforward, so unfiltered, that you didn’t know how to respond. You could feel your cheeks warming, and you quickly looked away, pretending to adjust his hat.

“Anyway,” he continued, leaning back on his hands again, “I like you and the crew likes you just the way you are. And if other people can’t see how awesome you are, that’s their problem, not yours.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his words settle over you. Then, with a small smile tugging at your lips, you reached over and gently tugged on his cheek.

“Cheesy,” you muttered, but there was no heat behind your words.

“And you love it,” he teased, grinning as he leaned into your hand.

You couldn’t argue with that. And honestly, you didn’t want to. He was right, you did love it.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro claimed he didn’t have a type. He wasn’t exactly experienced in the dating world, and honestly? He’d settle for the first person who asked him out. His standards when it comes to dating were low, maybe embarrassingly so. He figured relationships didn’t need to be complicated, and it doesn’t help that romance isn’t something he gives much thought to.

His ideologies for sure had Nami rolling her eyes so hard she nearly sprained something while she “convinced” him to go on this blind date. (Probably just mentioned sake).

“Don’t embarrass me,” she’d said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Just…try to be normal.”

Zoro wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that, but here he was, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant and already regretting the whole thing. He didn’t have much in the way of expectations, and if he was being honest, he’d already been planning how to politely bail when the evening inevitably turned awkward.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was you.

When the doors opened and you walked in, Zoro thought for a second that maybe Nami had set him up as some kind of joke. You were…tall. Really tall. At least 6’7, towering over everyone else in the room like it was nothing. But it wasn’t just your height that threw him for a loop. No, it was the way you carried yourself—strong and confident, with curves that made his mouth feel suddenly dry.

And then you smiled.

It was the kind of smile that could light up a whole damn room, warm and genuine, and Zoro had no idea what to do with himself. He froze in place, staring at you like an idiot as you approached the table.

But just as you reached it, you bumped into the corner, your face twisting into an embarrassed grimace as you muttered a barely audible, “Sorry.”

You adjusted your stance quickly, smoothing out your clothes before meeting his gaze. The confident smile returned, but there was a hint of nervousness in your eyes now as you introduced yourself, “…and you must be Zoro.”

Zoro blinked, realizing he’d been sitting there silently like a moron. He cleared his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Uh…yeah. That’s me.”

For the first time in a long time, Zoro didn’t know what to say. You were stunning—intimidatingly so, but not in a bad way. More like in a way that made him feel completely unprepared.

“I, uh…didn’t expect…” He trailed off, realizing how stupid that sounded. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the words. “I mean…it’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled again, a little softer this time, and sat down across from him. The chair groaned slightly under your weight, but you barely seemed to notice. Zoro, however, was hyper-aware of everything about you—the way your hair framed your face, the faint scent of your perfume, and the way you fiddled with your hands nervously even though you looked like someone who could crush him without breaking a sweat.

“So,” you said, your voice breaking the silence, “should we just dive into the awkward small talk, or do you want to skip straight to figuring out if we’re compatible?”

Zoro smirked, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Depends. What kind of small talk are we talking about?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, leaning in just a little, “what’s the deal with Nami setting us up? She made it seep like you were being held at gun point when you agreed to come.”

Zoro let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s ‘cause I was. Basically told me that I needed to stop being a ‘grumpy loner’ and put myself out there.”

“Well, are you a grumpy loner?” you teased, arching a brow.

“Depends on the day,” he replied, his lips twitching into a rare smile.

The conversation began to flow more naturally after that, and Zoro found himself surprisingly at ease in your presence. You were funny, sharp-witted, and refreshingly down-to-earth. And despite your intimidating height and striking appearance, you had this endearing mix of confidence and awkwardness that made Zoro’s chest feel…weird. Warm, maybe.

He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but one thing was certain: Nami might’ve been onto something.

And as the night went on, Zoro started thinking that maybe—just maybe—he had a type after all.

God Usopp

Usopp’s ability to turn his lies into facts never failed to amaze his crew, no matter how many times it happened. Whether it was fooling enemies into thinking he had an army at his back or convincing others he’d singlehandedly taken down giants, his bluffs always seemed to find a way to come true.

But this time, it felt like he might’ve gone too far.

The night had started innocently enough. They’d walked into the bustling bar, ready to unwind after a long day, and Usopp had quickly taken center stage, boasting to anyone who’d listen about his supposed luck with women. According to him, he had a magnetic charm—women practically threw themselves at him. He spun story after story, weaving tales of effortless flirtations and grand romances, all while nursing his drink like it was the elixir fueling his confidence.

The crew had been amused, as usual, letting him have his moment. That was, until he pushed his luck.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Usopp declared suddenly, slamming his glass down on the table for dramatic effect. “The next woman who walks through that door, I’ll ask her out!”

“Yeah, right,” Zoro snorted, leaning back in his chair with a skeptical smirk.

“Bet you a thousand berries you’ll chicken out,” Sanji added, lighting a cigarette.

Even Luffy was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying the show.

Fueled by their jeers and the buzz of alcohol in his system, Usopp puffed out his chest, confidence radiating off him. “Wait and see! I’ll show you virgin’s how it’s done!”

And then the door swung open.

You walked in, tall, curvy, and striking, with an air of quiet shyness that somehow made you even more intriguing. Your height was intimidating, sure—enough to make most people hesitate—but that didn’t stop the crew’s attention from snapping right to you.

Unfortunately for Usopp, his confidence evaporated the second he saw you. His jaw dropped slightly, and he sank lower in his seat, as if trying to disappear.

Too hot. Way too hot, he thought, panic rising in his chest.

There was absolutely no way he could approach you. But before he could retract his bold declaration, Luffy—ever the instigator—practically shouted across the bar:

“Hey Usopp, a girl just walked in!”

The room went quiet for a beat, every head turning toward your direction—including yours.

Usopp froze, his face turning beet red as the crew burst into laughter at his horrified expression. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

“Don’t back out now, lover boy,” Zoro teased, raising his glass.

Sanji smirked, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Yeah, come on lover boy. Show us “virgin’s” how it’s done.”

It took a solid five minutes of relentless goading, prodding, and Sanji’s smug remarks before Usopp finally caved. His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself across the bar toward your table, his nerves threatening to take him out entirely.

You, meanwhile, had been watching the whole ordeal out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh. It was obvious the group of men was teasing him, but when you saw him hesitantly approach your table, his cheeks flushed and his hands fidgeting at his sides, something about his awkward determination made your heart skip.

“H-Hey,” he stammered, stopping in front of you. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact as he forced himself to speak. “I, uh… I couldn’t help but notice you walked in, and, um…I just wanted to say you look—uh—really nice. Really, uh…really pretty, actually.”

Your face warmed at his words, and you offered him a small smile. “Thank you,” you said softly, finding his obvious nerves oddly endearing.

He exhaled sharply, relieved that you hadn’t immediately brushed him off. “So, uh…I was wondering if I could maybe, um, buy you a drink? If you don’t mind, that is.”

He was a stuttering mess, barely able to hold your gaze for more than a second, but his earnestness was hard to ignore.

You chuckled nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sure. I’d like that.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night talking, your initial shyness melting away as you realized just how much you had in common. Usopp, despite his earlier bluster, turned out to be easy to talk to once he got past his nerves. He told you about his adventures (embellished, of course), and you shared a few stories of your own, laughing at his exaggerated reactions.

By the end of the night, the two of you were sitting closer, your heads nearly touching as you exchanged quiet words amidst the noisy bar. When he finally asked for your number—his voice cracking slightly as he did—it was an easy “yes.”

When he returned to his crew, they were in shock.

“Huh, you actually got her number?” Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sanji looked like he was about to faint. “How?!”

Even Luffy was impressed, clapping Usopp on the back with a wide grin.

Usopp grinned cheekily, slipping his hands into his pockets as he tried to play it cool. “What can I say? The ladies can’t resist the great Captain Usopp.”

But the blush on his face—and the way his gaze kept darting back to you—told a different story.

Eustass Kidd

Kidd wasn’t a small guy—not in height, not in build, and definitely not in personality. He was used to being the one towering over others, the one commanding attention in every room. But then there was you.

You weren’t exactly small, either. You were tall enough to meet his gaze, tall enough that he had to actually look up when you wore certain shoes. And somehow, that fact alone drove him up the wall. It wasn’t just your height, either—it was the way you used it. The way you leaned down just enough to get in his face during arguments, a teasing smirk on your lips that made his blood boil. It wasn’t clear whether he wanted to bite you or kiss you senseless. Hell, maybe both.

Your slim, graceful frame only added to your air of superiority, and the way you carried yourself—poised and unapologetically confident, like some untouchable princess—clashed with Kidd’s brash, rough-edged demeanor in ways that sent sparks flying.

The first time you joined his crew, he’d made it very clear he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “This ship has no room for some tall, prissy princess who can’t even fight properly,” he’d snarled, his tone biting.

Yet, every time the idea of you leaving came up, he was the first to shoot it down. He always had some half-baked excuse—“We need the extra hands,” or “No one else can handle that task but her.” But the truth was glaringly obvious to everyone but him: he didn’t want you to go.

You, of course, loved to needle him about it. Whether it was teasing him about his temper, calling him “short” just to see him fume, or subtly challenging his authority just to watch him rise to the bait, you knew exactly how to get under his skin.

And right now, you were doing it without even trying.

The crew was docked on an island for the day, giving everyone a much-needed break. While Kidd had been supervising repairs to the ship, you’d wandered off, only to bump into an old friend. Kidd hadn’t paid much attention until he turned around and saw you hugging some guy—a scrawny, soft-looking guy at that.

Normally, you brushed off men as if they were flies, always quick with a sharp word or a cold glare if they got too close. But now? You were smiling. Laughing. Letting this guy get all touchy, and even worse, you didn’t seem to mind. You’d even waved off the crew, saying you’d catch up later as you wandered off with him.

It was the first time Kidd had seen you without that infuriating sass, without the sarcasm or biting wit. And he hated it. He hated the way his chest tightened when you walked away. Hated the fact that the sight of you being soft with someone else was enough to ruin his mood for the rest of the day.

When you finally came back to the ship, he was waiting for you at the gangplank, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Is that seriously your type?” he asked as soon as you got close.

You froze, your brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Thought you would’ve had better taste,” Kidd said, scoffing. “That guy was so scrawny, it’s pathetic. There’s no way he could handle someone like you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh? And who said I wanted to be handled?”

His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re a brat,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Someone’s gotta handle that.”

You raised a brow, stepping closer, your tone dripping with mockery. “And who exactly do you think could “handle” me? You?”

Kidd let out a sharp laugh, one that had the crew glancing over in curiosity. “Damn right,” he growled, and before you could say another word, he grabbed you.

With an ease that startled you, he hoisted you over his shoulder, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the way you immediately started struggling.

“Kidd! Put me down, you overgrown idiot!” you shouted, kicking your legs as he started walking.

“Try asking nicely, princess,” he said with a cocky grin, as he continued to carry you below deck as if you weighed nothing.

By the time he dumped you onto the mattress in his quarters, you were fuming, your face hot with embarrassment. You scrambled to sit up, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but he cut you off, stepping closer and leaning down just enough to cage you in.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice though quieter now, was still rough around the edges. “Always in my face, always mouthing off, always making me question whether I hate you or…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering down to your lips before snapping back up to meet your eyes.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. “Or what?” you whispered, your voice unsteady.

“Or want you,” he finished bluntly. “And I’m sick of pretending it’s not the second one.”

Your heart skipped at his confession, and for once, you were at a loss for words. You’d always assumed he couldn’t stand you—that all the bickering and banter was just part of his general dislike for you. But now, with the way he was looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically soft, you weren’t so sure anymore.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he straightened slightly, his voice dropping. “Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you completely off guard, your cheeks heating as you stared up at him. Kidd never asked for anything—he just took. But now, with his sharp edges momentarily softened, waiting for your answer, it made your chest ache in a way you didn’t expect.

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded slowly. “Yeah,” you murmured.

The moment your words left your mouth, Kidd closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle. It wasn’t rushed or forceful—it was steady, deliberate, and filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a rare, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re still a brat,” he muttered, his voice laced with affection.

“And you’re still an overgrown idiot,” you shot back, though there was no venom in your words.

He chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw. “And yet you let this overgrown idiot kiss you.”

You didn’t have a clever comeback for that—not this time. Instead, you leaned up, pulling him back into another kiss, letting it speak for you instead.

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One Piece Masterlist

not proofread!!

i imagined reader to be over 6’ for those whose heights aren’t explicitly stated. also i am not tall so i hopefully i did the tall girlies justice!!

[willing to do a part two of this with any other op men or women :p]

also happy new year!!

[cupidkenji]

Gnaw

Now Playing: Gnaw - Alex G everything I knew was looking just as it should Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!reader CW: smut, oral (r receiving), choking but not in a freaky way he literally chokes reader to get them unconscious (no somno), kidnapping kind of (he takes them back to their house), knifeplay 💀, restraints being used (reader's wrists are tied), noncon technically but again mentally reader is into it, toxic ex bf, he's really whipped tho, minor bloodplay, undertones of sadism, lokey father figure vibes from Nam gyu (i'm so sorry), probably kind of OOC, university AU Summary: After that night, you ran. You should know by now you can never get far from him. Disclaimer: Reader is always thought of to be chubby/bigger when writing but I do my best to not physically describe reader at all with stuff like skin tone or body type. Anyone can read this as reader is not depicted but if there's a slip up please let me know. <3 WC: 3.7k (again) this is a part 2! read part 1 here.

the worms are eating away at my brain i am going crazy. please for this story just imagine you have one of those bed frames that are individual bars w space in between them instead of like one solid thing. also i really need to start writing these earlier in the day so i have the energy to proof read them. i'm sorry for my sins have mercy on me.

The sunlight seared through a pair of shitty motel curtains, attempting to penetrate your shut eyelids. It was the sixth day you were waking up in a scratchy bed on the run down side of your already dirty town. It was the sixth day you would spend missing him. 

You knew it was wrong, immoral to even think of returning to the man who had done such a thing. Who was clearly at a place in his life where he could do such a thing. Even through all the intellectualizing of his actions, the pleading you did with yourself to be disgusted, you weren’t. You knew it the second he cleaned you up and went to sleep, and it was terrifying, so you ran. As soon as you were sober, you ran to the only sanctuary you could afford as a college student who was also renting an apartment and a vehicle. You had already overstayed your welcome, knowing that the six days would cost you more than you wanted to shell out. You didn’t know how long you planned to be gone, originally fleeing the scene to be able to think. It was only proving more difficult as the days ticked on. You’d come all the way out here to talk yourself into hating him, only to carve out an even bigger space within yourself that he was to occupy. You missed him. The more you thought about it, the more apparent it became, and that just pushed you to stay longer. To wait out the bruising feeling eating at you the more you forced yourself away. 

You skipped class, not daring to step foot on campus lest he be waiting for her. The thought made your head fizz, a horrified and excited feeling mingling as they wrapped around the nerves in your stomach. Just the possibility of seeing him overwhelmed you, but you were simultaneously sick from the distance. You were sick of your surroundings, too. The walls were gray and stained, and you feared the hygiene status of the bed you were sleeping in. You hadn’t had much time to pack when you’d left, grabbing miscellaneous clothing that had yet to be put away and shoving it in a backpack. You hadn’t brought a blanket or a pillow, something you regretted. The suffocating nature of the beige room prompted the nightly walks you’d been taking. It was a bearable temperature, and the full perimeter of the building provided a decent amount of ground to cover. You hadn’t grabbed a charger, leaving your phone dead and you bored. Without any artificial stimulation to occupy your head, you took notice of the normally unnoticeable aspects of such a place. There were bits of a wired fence on the right side of the parking lot, the few lamps that lit the outside up had security cameras on them that didn’t work. You couldn't sleep one night, so you’d gone to look at them, finding that when the cords reached the end of the pole, they’d been haphazardly cut. It looked rushed and frayed, like a child had done it with safety scissors. It was deceiving, truly. There was no safety in an already dim parking lot. 

On tonight’s walk, you mulled over the date you’d return by. You still needed to graduate, and realistically, you couldn’t avoid your life forever. You were getting progressively more tired, sleeping less each night you stayed, missing the comfort of your own bed. The ground was uneven and cracked under your shoes, reminding you of the gray, crumbling building you were supposed to retrieve your roommate from. Reminding you of him, how stupid all of this was. There was a familiar smell in the air as you rounded a corner, nearly back to your room. It was distinct, heady and musky, as if you were back on that street and looking up at the flowing smoke again. You did your usual observation of the desolate asphalt full of empty parking spots.

And what the fuck were the odds?

He was already looking at you, the end of his cigarette glowing orange as he took a drag, like a sniper taking aim. He was a mere silhouette being poorly lit up by a streetlight that barely worked, but you knew. It was this feeling of magnetism, the same way he knew exactly who he was looking at, you felt the world around you melt, the air around you became irrelevant as your eyes locked on him. There was another man there, leaning against the hood of his car with Nam gyu right next to him, taking no notice of you as he spoke. You couldn’t make out his words with how far away you were. The man you’d been avoiding making little sounds of acknowledgement while being completely trained on you, posture relaxed and comfortable. He found you.

His friend nudged him, mumbling something and standing up. The both of them walked back into what was presumably the man’s room after snuffing out what they were smoking. You didn’t even register your legs beelining for your room. You threw whatever you had into the backpack you’d brought. You needed to get the fuck out of here. It was an unfathomably cruel move from whatever higher power was in charge of this situation. The two of you were being forced together like sand and water. He was everywhere, no matter where you were he would inevitably catch up. Maybe it took him three months the first time, but clearly he was done waiting. You rushed the check out process, not knowing how long his friend would keep him occupied now that he knew you were here. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. The thought made your stomach twist, but still, you needed to go. Your car seemed like an endless walk from the front doors, parked in the corner closest to your room, dark and unsuspecting. In such an empty place, you didn’t want your car to sit illuminated, as if advertised. This motel had a reputation, and you wanted to keep your means of travel safe. 

Your hands shook slightly as you hit the unlock button on your keys, yanking the handle to the backseat and throwing your bag somewhere in the back. It was just clothes, you didn’t care if it rolled around or hit the floor during the commute to wherever you were going, you just cared about getting out. The slam of the back door shutting seemed louder than what was appropriate for such a bone-deep silence for this time of night. Opening the driver’s side, you barely had enough room to squeeze through before it was being shoved closed from behind you. On impulse, you tried to turn around, startled and drowning in adrenaline; but before you could, the crook of his right arm encompassed your neck, tightening like a snake who was readying the prey for consumption. Your hands shot up, grasping his forearm with a futile grip, as if you could will his arm away from you. The pressure on your windpipe was bleeding black into the edges of your sight, static mingling with your hearing as your head got lighter. You could hear quiet shushes and reassurances coming from the man behind you, as though talking a child back into sleep after a nightmare. You dug your nails into the fabric of his sweatshirt as a weak sob barreled out of your mouth. He only pushed a little harder, pulling you into him. The proximity comforted you despite his actions, and you used the last little bit of energy you had to condemn yourself, body going limp against him after the last internal inquiry of what the fuck was wrong with you. He had also noticed the camera situation, knowing that his actions would go undocumented in the empty little place. He walked you over the passenger seat, hauling you in and buckling you up like a kid in a car seat. He started the route to your house, it was a Friday, your roommate would surely be out. He knew she was barely ever at the house, after staying there on and off for two years, he thinks he could probably count how many times he saw her sleep there on one hand. It wasn’t a long drive, twenty minutes or so, and you’d be home.

–

The normally disarming lamplight of your bedroom reeled in your consciousness from the void it had been thrown to. It didn’t feel particularly calming - not now. Your head was on your pillow, a focused Nam gyu diligently knotting a rope around your wrists, bundling them together and lacing the restraint through your headboard. Your neck felt bruised, sore and pulsing with a light pain as the blood rushed to your head. Your legs tensed on instinct, noticing the motion was not detained. He hadn’t tied your legs. You tugged once at the rope, testing the endurance just as much as you were testing your own strength. Your muscles felt nearly atrophied, the action making an ache ricochet through the oxygen-depleted muscles. Your whole body felt tired, heavy. Your exhale was shaky, slowly deflating from your lungs as if your body was made of stone. 

“Oh, good.” He double checked the knot, tugging once to solidify it’s hold on you before standing up to look down on you. “I didn’t know how long you’d be out.” He sounded so casual, as if instead of choking you unconscious and dragging you home, he’d simply carried you in from the car after you’d fallen asleep in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and gravelly, like your throat was coated in sand. Your lip trembled at the feeling of being so close to him. God, you were like a fucking puppy; can’t even be away from him for a week without turning into a weird sentimental puddle upon seeing him again. “Please untie me.” Your eyes watered as you spoke. You’d barely been awake five minutes and you were on the brink of tears. Pathetic. 

His eyes flicked over your face at the sight of your eyes welling up, a little glint of something familiar sparking in them for just a moment. “I can’t.” He shrugged, imitating disappointment at the notion. “You keep running from me. How are we supposed to resolve this if you can’t even keep still?”

Resolve this. Your eyes closed at the words, attempting to stop the tears from spilling at the thought. You’d left him for a reason. It was repeated over and over in your head like a mantra. You had to stick to it even if you couldn’t remember what the desire to be away from him felt like. Even as your chest heaved slightly with panic, you hoped he wouldn’t move. You hoped he would keep talking just so you could hear his voice, be near him. It wasn’t a rational wish by any means, but you could feel the intensity of it in your fucking bones with how consuming it was. 

“I’m not a patient man, honey. I waited for so fucking long.” He leaned over your dormant frame, putting one knee on the bed and moving his other to mirror the motion, effectively pinning your hips down under his weight. “You know, it wasn’t even your roommate who wanted you there. She just left her phone unlocked, and I knew you’d show up if she asked.”

“What-” Your words halted in your throat as he drew a pocket knife from the pocket of his sweatshirt. Jesus.  “Please - you don’t understand-” 

“Relax.” The word was chuckled slightly as he cut you off, like the panic that shot through your eyes at the sight of the blade in his hands was unjustified, like you were being irrational. “I think I was too selfish that night, hm?” The look he was giving you felt like it could kill you if he really wanted it to. Intense and suffocating, full of excitement and devotion. “You clearly hadn’t been touched in months and I got ahead of myself.” He shook his head slightly as his eyes looked over you, your chest was moving quick and shallow as you breathed, stomach tensing as he lifted your shirt up just an inch, caressing the skin above the waistband with his thumb. It barely even seemed intentional, as if his hands subconsciously drew themselves to you, needed to be touching you. 

Any urge you had to respond kept dying before it could be expelled. What do you even say to a situation like this? He was so at ease, explaining himself like a truly remorseful lover would. To anyone who didn’t know his inflection, that’s where it would end;  but you were so in tune with him, you could hear the edge of entertainment that his words carried. Maybe he was sorry, maybe he just liked seeing you unsure.

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” Your breath stumbled as he said it, your wrists grating unconsciously against the confines. “But it hurt my feelings when you ran like that.” He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, emphasizing his words. “So I’m gonna hurt you a little, too.” You felt the point of the blade make contact with the skin that his thumb had been smoothing over minutes before. It was enough to make the first tear fall from the corner of your eye. There was no pressure, just the threat of his words ringing true. Even in this scenario out of most peoples’ nightmares, you still didn’t think he’d truly hurt you, not irreparably. He’d always had sadistic tendencies, you even sometimes - shamefully - thought about the potential that was undoubtedly lurking beneath the surface of his presentability. He could get mean sometimes, especially when he was high, but never like this. He was sober, you could see it in his eyes and the way he moved. He just wanted to do this, wanted to be in control. 

He could practically feel the mesh of emotion seeping from your veins, taking longer than necessary to talk just to watch you soak in it. “Just enough to teach you some manners, honey.” His thumb trailed a line of pure heat along your jaw. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably even like it, knowing you.” 

A weird feeling jolted through the active nerves in your stomach. It was such a direct callout, based in certainty that he carried in his voice. You felt caught, recalling all the times he most likely knew exactly what you were thinking. Another tear streamed down the side of your face. 

The steel in his hand glistened in the low light of your bedroom, the sharpness of it being dragged down the fabric of your shirt, severing the only semblance of modesty you had left; the material draping open and bearing your skin to him. You’d been practically ready for bed by the time you took your walk, foregoing any additional coverage underneath the shirt, leaving all of you vulnerable to the exploration of his eyes. He pushed the sagging cloth to hang more off your shoulders, grazing his hands over the naked parts of you. It was gentle, restrained, like he couldn’t bear the time it would take to touch all of you because he needed it that badly. 

You felt the sting of an opening wound a second later, a whimper barely fleeing your throat. It wasn’t deep, he didn’t push hard. His lips parted as the blood rose to the surface of the small cut, pooling within it and releasing a single drop to pour down the side of your stomach. Before it could gain traction, he smeared the runny crimson, letting the liquid coat the print of his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight, his breath coming out shakier than he’d like as his blood seemed to thrum in his veins. 

Your face twisted at the feeling, molten lava pooling in your stomach and burning you from the inside out. You felt hot, immune responses and arousal both running rampant in your body. You’d never felt more awake. He lowered his head to your exposed collarbone, brutally reminiscent of the night that predated this one. “See? Not so bad.” He led his hand up to your mouth, palm skimming your side as he hovered his thumb above your sealed lips, muttering out a request to open your mouth for me and you did because he was inexplicably intoxicating. Your tongue was coated in bitter metal combining with the discreet and slight flavor of his skin. You felt dizzy. 

He mouthed down the expanse of your upper body, leaving patches of your skin shiny with his saliva and stinging from the occasional love bite he would leave. He marked his places of affection with small cuts, each one sending a wave of warmth lower and lower, fanning the flames down to where he would ultimately end up. He would kiss over each future scar he left on you, a bloody comparison to your relationship as a whole, his actions making your heart ache and your back arch. You had been trying your hardest to stay quiet, trembling exhales being the only thing you couldn’t suppress; but he had a way of wearing you down in the most pleasurable ways imaginable, gradually building you up to the whimpers that were slipping past your crumbling resolve. 

With caring hands, he pulled at the waistband of your pants, folding them out from under your hips and bending each of your legs forward to get them fully off of your legs, laying them back down once he had. The room felt colder than it ever had. He stared with pride at the state of your perpetually clenched thighs, groping at the tense muscles. “What’d I tell you, huh?” He tucked the blade of the knife under the seam of your underwear, pulling up and slicing clean through them. “I don’t know why you want out when you like it so much.” Cutting the other seam, he let the fabric slide off of you, discarding the shreds of useless hindrance and taking in the full sight of you. 

You didn’t know why you ran either. You did like it. You liked it so fucking much that it scared you. Maybe it was a fear of feeling good, or a fear of what this kind of connection would inevitably do to you, what kind of a man he was. You’d tried to leave him and ended up panting, wet skin glistening and covered in gashes; and the worst part was you liked it. How the fuck could you like something like this?

He left various other claims of territory on your thighs. Teeth marks, nicks from the knife, worshipping kisses of a man in love. Everything action committed against your wanting flesh had so much emotion laced in it that you could barely take it. You were overwhelmed, your brain half shut down, only stopping itself from going dark because then you wouldn’t be able to feel him, to accept what he was giving you. 

He pushed your thighs out of their locked state, soothing over the irritation littered on them with his thumbs and his lips, dulling the sting with an even greater ache that was bleeding directly into the center of you. You felt like he’d lit you on fire. 

The tip of his index finger scorched a line up the place you’d been anticipating, shamelessly gliding in copious arousal that had been pooling since you saw him leaning on the hood of that car. It was a touch that seemed to pump life back into you, invigorating and familiar. Something you missed so much that you were sure you’d never be able to fathom the depth of it. He cursed, quiet and breathy; and you groaned at the feeling of friction, even if it was just a little. 

His mouth on you was sudden, but not rushed; the spontaneity of it forcing a gasp from you. His actions were calculated, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you open, malleable and pinned. His hands were tense on your legs, fingers digging in tight as if he was struggling with his own internal grievances. You weren’t sure if it was restraint, or desperation, or something uncharted between the two of you. It was scary to think that something could be undefined right now, that maybe he was lost too. 

The warmth of his mouth on you after already having your body thoroughly overworked nearly knocked you unconscious for the second time that night. Your head was as thrown back as it could be given the state of your arms, chest reaching for the ceiling. Your poor wrists burned in the grit of the rope, but it only seemed to add to the peak you were being pushed to. He brought his index finger to sweep through the bountiful wetness in between your legs, this time pushing in and curling up, his second finger joining soon after. 

“Gyu - please -” The nickname was so domestic, something that hadn’t left your lips in months but seemed to feel as natural as breathing in this moment. The loving tone hit him like a wave, drawing a reflexive groan from his mouth. His eyes were practically black from how much his pupils encompassed the iris, his own eyes looking a little watery as a less extreme mimic of yours.

“Missed the way you taste.” The auditory affirmation paired with his fingers and his mouth sent you toppling. His fingers never let up, his mouth detaching to plant light kisses on the bone of your hip, looking up at your breathtaking form with an awestruck gaze that you couldn’t see through your closed eyes and tilted back head. 

You panted, thinking it was over. Maybe he’d fuck you, or maybe he would make you tea and the two of you would finally talk about things. He just moved his soaking fingers up to your clit, your body jumping slightly at the sensitivity. 

“Wait-” 

“Shh, just take it.” He spoke low and moved back to where he was, starting again when you had barely started coming down. His declaration of making it up to you rung in your ears. How long was long enough to be considered even? You writhed with overstimulation as you thought about it. Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An hour? Your second orgasm hit you hard in the middle of your useless inquiries, and you realize it didn’t really matter.

You were in for a long fucking night regardless.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃❮𓁿❯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

tags: @mitsxuri @citarnosis @namgyunation (tagging you lovely folks because you all mentioned wanting more content. please let me know if you want your @ removed and i will do it ASAP <3)

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

i just imagine mc loving driving sebastian up the wall by whispering things like I want you inside me or I want to taste you before walking away like nothing all day sebastian and his will power are holding on by a thread

One of Those Days | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

ahhhh anon thank you for this request I had sooo much fun torturing Seb while writing this. I hope you enjoy it too!!

Words: ~5,500

Tags: Implied Smut, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post Canon, Seventh Year, Angst, Teasing, Longing, Established Relationship

Friday mornings always held a certain promise for Sebastian. The week’s end brought the light at the end of the tunnel: no more late-night study sessions, no looming deadlines, and—best of all—plans for the weekend. And this weekend was shaping up to be exceptional.

He was seated at the Slytherin table across from Ominis, who was currently buttering a piece of toast with his usual meticulous care. Sebastian leaned back, cradling his coffee, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Why are you so smug this morning?” Ominis asked without looking up, his tone laced with suspicion.

Sebastian chuckled. “It’s Friday. The weekend awaits. And tomorrow’s plans? Impeccable.” He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “She got me tickets for the Puddlemere United match. Front row.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, still focused on his toast. “Ah, yes. Your doting girlfriend, endlessly spoiling you. Do remind me how the universe decided that you deserved her?”

“Still trying to figure that out myself,” Sebastian replied, taking a sip of his coffee. He grinned despite the jab. Ominis had been endlessly teasing him about your relationship since it had started over a year ago, but Sebastian couldn’t blame him. He still felt like he was getting away with something by having you in his life.

His gaze drifted to the Great Hall’s double doors for the third time in as many minutes. You were always late to breakfast—perpetually running behind in the morning.

“She’s late,” Ominis said flatly.

“She’s always late,” Sebastian replied, unable to keep the affection out of his voice. “You’d think by seventh year she’d have mastered the concept of time.”

“She must have overslept,” Ominis mused, as if it weren’t the obvious explanation. “Again.”

“She was up late,” Sebastian said defensively. “Studying."

“Is that what she told you?” Ominis asked, tilting his head with a knowing smirk. "Let's be honest, she was probably off fighting acromantulas in the forest again."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but then he spotted you slipping through the doors, looking every bit as radiant as he’d expected. His heart did its usual stupid flip at the sight of you.

You glanced around the room, spotting him instantly. That smile widened, and you started toward the Slytherin table.

“Speak of the devil,” Ominis huffed a laugh, though Sebastian barely heard him. His attention was fixed entirely on you as you approached.

“Morning, boys,” you greeted, slipping into the seat beside Sebastian as though you weren’t a solid twenty minutes late. “Miss me?”

Sebastian leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. “Always. Though I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Got caught up,” you replied breezily, reaching for a piece of toast. “You know how it is.”

Ominis sighed. “No, we don’t. Some of us value punctuality.”

You smirked at him, your eyes glinting with mischief. “And yet, I still manage to charm you both despite my flaws. A talent, really.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s charm so much as sheer persistence,” Ominis replied dryly, but there was a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.

Before you could reply, Imelda Reyes appeared behind him, her usual air of impatience in full force.

“Ominis, did you finish the notes for Professor Binns’ essay?” she asked brusquely, tapping her foot as if she had somewhere more important to be.

Ominis sighed heavily. “Yes, Imelda. Not that I understand why you insist on taking history so seriously. You do realize it’s impossible to impress a ghost?”

As Ominis turned his attention to Imelda’s complaints, you leaned toward Sebastian, the faint scent of your shampoo teasing him as you spoke just low enough for him to hear.

“You know,” you murmured, “I had a dream about you last night.”

Sebastian froze, the casual sip of coffee he’d been mid-swig nearly going down the wrong pipe. He coughed, turning his head away to avoid choking outright. When he finally managed to compose himself, he looked at you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“And what, exactly, was this dream about?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you picked up your teaspoon, delicately stirring your tea, your gaze fixed on the swirling liquid as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. When you finally lifted your eyes to meet his, you tilted your head, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile.

“Nothing appropriate for breakfast conversation,” you replied sweetly, dragging the edge of the spoon between your lips.

Sebastian’s brain short-circuited. He stared at you, a faint pink creeping up the back of his neck as you set the spoon down with an air of innocence. You went back to buttering your toast like you hadn’t just shattered his ability to think coherently.

“Everything all right, Sebastian?” Ominis asked, his attention back on him now that Imelda had left.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, biting into your toast to hide your grin. Ominis raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press further.

You sipped your tea serenely, but Sebastian could feel the amusement radiating off you in waves. He knew that look. The playful light in your eyes, the subtle curve of your lips—it was the look you always got when you were about to cause trouble. And Merlin, it was only breakfast, but you’d already decided to make this one of those days.

He sighed internally, doing some quick mental math.

It lined up. Of course, it did.

Three weeks ago, you’d asked him to come with you to the apothecary, dragging him along while explaining that you needed to restock ingredients for a potion you brewed monthly. He had listened with genuine interest, mostly because you had a knack for making even mundane things captivating. You’d laughed when he asked a few questions, calling him “endearingly clueless for someone so brilliant,” and gone on to share more details about how the potion worked to ease period pains. But now, as he connected the dots, realization dawned with the weight of inevitability.

You were ovulating.

Sebastian’s stomach did a little flip, and a faint, involuntary heat crept up his neck. That explained everything: your heightened playfulness, the way you leaned just a little closer, the way your teasing had an edge that sent sparks skittering down his spine. You were always a minx—bold, confident, and unrepentantly mischievous—but there was something about these days that tipped you from charming troublemaker to full-blown menace. And now that he’d caught on, he knew exactly what kind of day this was shaping up to be.

He was in trouble.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur. You kept your hands to yourself, but every glance, every comment, you sent his way held that same spark. It was enough to make him want to tug you into an empty corridor and—

“Ready for class?” Your voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, cheerful as ever. You rose from your seat, brushing crumbs from your skirt as if you hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes planting suggestive landmines in his brain. He swallowed hard and nodded, pushing his chair back to stand.

Ominis muttered something about Sebastian being unusually quiet, but Sebastian waved him off, claiming he was still waking up. A complete lie—he was wide awake now.

As the three of you made your way to Charms, Sebastian tried to steel himself. He knew better than to let you get under his skin this early in the day. If he gave in to your antics now, you’d win—and you loved to win.

The moment you slid into the seat beside him, he felt the familiar brush of your knee against his under the desk. He told himself it was unintentional until you shifted just enough to press against him more deliberately. His gaze flicked to you, but you were already pulling out your parchment, looking perfectly innocent.

When Professor Ronen began the lecture, Sebastian attempted to focus. It lasted all of five minutes before you leaned toward him, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Your concentration is admirable, really,” you whispered, the soft warmth of your breath sending a shiver down his spine.

His quill faltered mid-stroke, leaving a jagged mark across the parchment. He turned his head, intending to glare at you, but you were already sitting back, your expression unreadable as you scribbled down notes, head tilted in concentration, the very picture of academic diligence. But then he felt it—your hand, light as a feather, brushing against his thigh under the table. His breath hitched. You didn’t react, didn’t even glance his way. Instead, your quill kept moving steadily across the parchment as though you hadn’t just set his pulse racing.

Your fingers rested there for a moment, almost as if testing the waters, before you began to trace slow, deliberate circles against the fabric of his trousers. Sebastian swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he gripped his quill. He tried to will himself to focus, to block out the sensation, but you didn’t stop. In fact, you leaned slightly closer, your arm brushing his as you added a flourish to your notes.

“Comfortable?” you murmured, your voice low enough that no one else could hear.

Sebastian glanced at you sharply, his eyes narrowing in warning, but you didn’t look at him. The only sign of your mischief was the faintest twitch at the corner of your lips.

His hand twitched, tempted to grab yours and stop you before you pushed him any further, but he knew better. Drawing attention to what you were doing would only give you more satisfaction. So instead, he gritted his teeth and leaned slightly away, his voice a hushed growl. “Behave.”

You finally turned to him, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Seb,” you said, your tone sticky sweet. “I’m just taking notes.”

The corners of your lips quirked upward, and Sebastian let out a slow exhale. You were relentless, and this was only the beginning. He shifted slightly in his seat, praying for the class to end quickly before he did something that would land both of you in detention.

But then your hand slid higher, and all thoughts of self-control vanished in a haze of heat and frustration.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” he muttered, his voice strained. His hand moved under the desk to still yours.

You leaned in slightly, your lips close to his ear. “What’s the fun in that?” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped his quill. He managed to hold on until Professor Ronen called for the end of class . You finally withdrew your hand, gathering your things with a pleased smile that only deepened the blush on his cheeks.

When Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, Sebastian had convinced himself that you’d already done your worst for the day. Charms had been a test of endurance, but surely you couldn’t keep it up through another class—especially not with Professor Hecat keeping a watchful eye.

You slid into the seat next to him without a word, a soft hum of a tune under your breath as you unpacked your things. Sebastian didn’t miss the glint of mischief still lingering in your eyes, but he chose to ignore it.

Professor Hecat began the lesson with her usual briskness, outlining the day’s activity: practicing defensive and offensive spells in pairs.

Sebastian exhaled in relief. Partner work meant he could focus on the task at hand, and spell practice was something he excelled at. He cast a sidelong glance at you, waiting for the inevitable quip about how you’d wipe the floor with him. But instead, you gave him an easy smile, looking far too composed for his comfort.

“Alright, partner,” you said, drawing your wand and stepping into position across from him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Sebastian smirked, eager to reclaim some sense of control after the morning’s torment. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing for you to make the first move.

You raised your wand, your posture flawless, but before casting, you paused. “It’s so warm in here,” you murmured, loosening your tie and pulling it free with a casual flick. You undid the top two buttons of your blouse, fanning yourself with your hand. “Don’t you think?”

Sebastian stiffened, his smirk vanishing. “I—what?”

You gave him a pointed look, as if waiting for an answer, before shrugging lightly. “Never mind. Let’s get started.”

He barely had time to blink before you cast Expelliarmus, your wand aimed with precision. The spell hit him squarely, sending his wand spinning out of his hand. You grinned triumphantly as you caught it midair.

“Not bad, huh?” you teased, your voice light and smug.

Sebastian huffed, running a hand through his hair to buy himself a moment. “Not bad,” he echoed, stepping closer. “Now, hand it over.”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with playful defiance. Instead of returning his wand immediately, you held it up, forcing him to move closer. “Come and get it."

Sebastian gritted his teeth, closing the distance between you. His pulse quickened the moment he got close enough to take in the details: the faint flush across your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell just slightly faster than normal, and—Merlin help him—the open collar of your blouse that gave him a perfect view of your collarbones and just enough cleavage to make his mouth go dry.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze flickering to yours. Your pupils were blown wide, and that maddening smirk was still firmly in place. You smelled like your usual perfume, that subtle scent that had been driving him to distraction all day, mixed with the faintest trace of parchment and ink.

Sebastian’s hand shot out to take his wand, but you pulled it back at the last second, your smirk widening. “What’s the matter? You look a bit tense.”

He took another step closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. The air between you crackled with tension, and he was certain you could hear the rapid thud of his heartbeat. He locked eyes with you, his voice low and rough. “I’m starting to think you want me tense.”

You shrugged. "Not sure what you're talking about."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his patience hanging by a thread. He reached for his wand again, his fingers brushing against yours as he finally pried it from your grip. For a moment, his hand lingered over yours, his thumb skimming the back of it before he pulled away.

“Your turn,” you said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Let’s see if you can disarm me.”

Sebastian let out a slow breath, gripping his wand tighter. Focus, he told himself, though it was easier said than done with the way you were looking at him—like you were daring him to lose control.

“All right,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Ready?”

“Always,” you replied, your smile unwavering.

He raised his wand, channeling every ounce of his frustration into the spell. Expelliarmus! The red jet of light shot toward you, and your wand flew from your hand, clattering to the floor behind you.

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Well done,” you said, your tone dripping with mock defeat. “I suppose I’ll have to get that.”

Sebastian watched, helpless, as you turned and bent over to retrieve your wand, taking your sweet time as you reached for it. His gaze betrayed him, trailing down the curve of your back to your hips and further still. The hem of your skirt rode up as you bent, barely covering what it was meant to, and leaving absolutely nothing to Sebastian's already frazzled imagination.

He swallowed hard, dragging his eyes away with an effort that felt almost physical. Merlin, you were going to kill him. He could already feel the warmth creeping up the back of his neck, and he prayed to every deity he could name that no one else was paying attention.

When you straightened and turned back to him, wand in hand, your smirk was firmly in place.

“Enjoy the view?” you asked, tilting your head as if the question were perfectly innocent.

Sebastian couldn’t help the low growl that escaped him as he stepped closer again, his voice a quiet warning. “Keep it up, and you’ll regret it.”

Your grin widened, utterly unrepentant. “Is that a threat?”

For a split second, he considered saying something that would wipe that smirk off your face, but Professor Hecat’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “Back to your positions!” she barked, her gaze darting between the two of you. “Focus, Mr. Sallow, Miss—”

“Yes, Professor,” Sebastian said quickly, stepping back and trying to calm his racing heart. But as he moved into position, he could still smell your perfume lingering in the air, and the image of your teasing smirk was seared into his mind.

He was barely holding it together, and the day was far from over. But surely, over lunch and surrounded by friends, he’d have some semblance of a reprieve. You wouldn’t dare push things in front of an audience—or so he hoped.

He slid into a seat beside Ominis, who was already stirring a bowl of soup to cool it off. Garreth and Natty sat across from them, deep in a lively debate about the Honeydukes confections.

Sebastian exhaled a small sigh of relief as you arrived a few moments later, seating yourself between Natty and Garreth across from him. You greeted everyone cheerfully, plucking a goblet of pumpkin juice from the table with your usual grace. For a fleeting moment, Sebastian thought he might actually survive the meal unscathed.

He was wrong.

You reached for the fruit platter in front of you, selecting a piece of pineapple and popping it into your mouth with a content hum. Sebastian caught himself watching the way your lips curled around your fingers, quickly tearing his gaze away as heat crept up his neck.

He wasn’t fast enough. You noticed, of course, and your eyes gleamed with mischief as you plucked another piece of pineapple, holding it up thoughtfully.

“Sebastian,” you said, your tone far too casual, “do you eat pineapple often?”

His brow furrowed. “Uh, not really. Why?”

You shrugged, biting into the pineapple and chewing slowly before answering. “Oh, it’s just something I read once. Supposedly, it makes… certain things taste better.”

The words hung in the air for a split second before their meaning hit him like a Stupefy spell. His jaw dropped, and he felt the heat in his cheeks spread like wildfire.

Garreth, who had been mid-sip of pumpkin juice, choked and started coughing, his face contorted with suppressed laughter. Natty’s eyes widened before she covered her mouth with her hand, a muffled giggle escaping. Even Ominis, usually the picture of composure, pinched the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was frozen, torn between mortification and the desperate urge to throttle you—or kiss you senseless. “You—” he spluttered, his voice low and strained. “You can’t just—why would you—”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What? It’s just a question. I’m curious.”

“Curious,” Sebastian echoed, his voice a growl. His grip tightened on his goblet, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself, and went back to your meal as if nothing had happened. Garreth finally managed to stop coughing, wiping tears from his eyes as he laughed. “Merlin’s beard, Sebastian, you’re as red as my tie.”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Sebastian muttered, glaring at him before shooting you a dark look.

Ominis sighed again, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Do the two of you ever give it a rest? Some of us are trying to eat in peace.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on his plate. You, meanwhile, continued to eat with maddening grace, each bite more deliberate than the last. To anyone else, you seemed completely oblivious, but Sebastian knew better. The way your lips lingered on the edge of your goblet, how your tongue darted out to catch the stray drop of pumpkin juice, the slow way you licked your fingers after finishing a piece of fruit—it was all deliberate, and it was driving him insane.

When lunch finally ended, Sebastian practically leapt to his feet, eager to put some distance between you. But as the group began to disperse, you slipped up beside him, your hand brushing against his arm.

“What do you say we use our free period to get a head start on homework?” you suggested, your tone casual but your eyes sparkling with mischief. “The library’s quiet. Perfect for concentration.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, suspicious. “Concentration, huh?”

You tilted your head, looking up at him with faux innocence. “What else would we be doing?”

He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. The library it is.”

Sebastian trailed after you, already regretting his decision to agree to this “study session.” He wasn’t walking to his doom—not exactly—but it certainly felt like you were leading him into a trap he’d willingly sprung. Every step you took ahead of him, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention, felt deliberate, and his patience was wearing thin.

When you reached the secluded table in the back of the library, you slid into a seat with a satisfied smile, glancing up at him as if daring him to sit across from you. Of course, he did—because, Merlin help him, no part of him could resist you, even when you were driving him out of his mind.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you said, leaning forward to rest your chin in your hand, your voice laced with amusement. “Something on your mind?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply but quickly thought better of it, forcing himself to focus instead on pulling out his parchment and quill. He needed to get this essay done, fast—before you found another way to turn his brain to mush.

“Nothing,” he muttered, not looking up. “Let’s just work.”

You hummed in response, a light, teasing sound that sent a shiver down his spine. When he finally risked a glance at you, you were watching him with that knowing smirk, the one that said you knew exactly what you were doing to him—and you had no intention of stopping.

To your credit, the two of you did manage to work in relative silence for about an hour. It was a miracle, really, considering the way you had been tormenting him all day. The soft scratching of quills and the occasional flipping of pages filled the air, lulling Sebastian into a false sense of security. You even asked him a few legitimate questions about your arithmancy work, and he found himself easing into the rhythm of study.

But of course, it couldn’t last.

You tapped your quill against the edge of the table thoughtfully, drawing his attention as you tilted your head, a curious expression on your face. “Sebastian,” you said slowly, like you were turning something over in your mind.

He glanced up, cautiously optimistic that this might be a real question. “What?”

“If you cast Levioso on something heavy enough, do you think there’s a weight limit?”

Sebastian frowned, considering. “There’s a theoretical limit, I suppose. It depends on the skill of the caster and the strength of the enchantment. Why?”

You propped your chin in your hand as you gestured toward the sturdy oak table in front of you. “Can you cast it on objects to make them stronger, or is that a separate charm altogether?"

Sebastian blinked at you, trying to gauge where this was going. Your expression was innocent enough—curious, thoughtful—but he’d spent far too much time with you to let his guard down completely.

“That’s a separate charm,” he said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Reinforcement charms can strengthen objects, but Levioso isn’t meant for that. It’s just levitation.”

You nodded thoughtfully, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the table. “Makes sense,” you mused. “I was just thinking… these tables have probably been here for decades, maybe centuries."

Sebastian frowned, unsure where your train of thought was leading. “I suppose so. Why?”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, and you tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with a mischief he recognized all too well. “Oh, no reason,” you said lightly, waving a hand. “I was just wondering how much weight they could handle. You know, hypothetically.”

The room seemed to still as your words hung in the air, and Sebastian felt his stomach drop. His quill froze mid-scratch, and he stared at you, his mind racing to keep up.

“Hypothetically,” he repeated, his voice flat, though his pulse was anything but.

"You know," You shrugged, leaning back in your chair with an air of nonchalance that was completely at odds with the gleam in your eyes. "Like the weight of two people."

Sebastian stared at you, half-convinced he was hallucinating. You were far too composed for someone who had just casually suggested something so completely inappropriate in the middle of the bloody library, yet here you were, twirling your quill like the picture of innocence. He wanted to say something clever, something sharp that would throw you off your game, but his mind was stuck on one thing.

Two people. This table.

Sebastian’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his quill, his patience dangling by a thread. He could feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and you noticed, of course. You always noticed. The way your eyes sparkled with mischief, that faint smirk tugging at your lips—you were daring him to lose control, and you both knew it.

But Sebastian was stubborn, if nothing else. He forced his gaze back down to his parchment, his quill scratching out nonsense as he tried to focus on anything other than the absurdly inappropriate image you’d planted in his head.

“Anyway,” you said lightly, your tone as innocent as ever, “I've had enough of arithmancy for the day. What was the essay prompt again for potions? Something about brewing methods?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “The efficacy of different brewing techniques for enhancing potion potency.”

“Right,” you said, nodding thoughtfully, a contemplative look crossing your face. “Hm… I think I know a book that covers this. It talks about how it’s all in the measurements. Every little thing has to be just right. You’ve got to be so careful with how deep you’re going in, or… well, the whole thing can become quite explosive."

Sebastian’s quill snapped in half.

He froze, staring down at the broken pieces in his hands as if they might somehow offer an escape from this torment. But when he looked up, your smirk was waiting for him, smug and triumphant.

“Oops,” you said sweetly, tilting your head. “Did I say something distracting?”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, his patience unraveling by the second. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he growled, his voice low and tense.

“Do I?” you replied, feigning innocence. But the glint in your eye betrayed you. You leaned forward slightly, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Surely you'll get top marks on this essay... I think you know exactly how deep to go."

Sebastian stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and filled with a heat that made your smirk falter for the first time all day.

“Outside. Now,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Your brows lifted in mock surprise, but the flicker of excitement in your expression didn’t escape him. You opened your mouth to say something—no doubt another teasing remark—but he wasn’t having it.

“Don’t,” he warned, cutting you off. “Just move.”

For once, you complied without argument, though the playful sway of your hips as you walked ahead of him made it clear you weren’t done yet.

Sebastian followed close behind as you weaved through the bookshelves, his chest tight with frustration and something far more dangerous. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he finally got you alone—but he knew he couldn’t take another second of this.

“You’ve been playing games all day,” he growled as you walked, his voice low and rough. “Do you think I didn’t notice? Do you think I’d just let it slide?”

You raised a brow. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’ve been perfectly well-behaved.”

Sebastian grabbed your wrist, his forehead nearly brushing yours as his hand came up to cup your jaw. “Well-behaved?” he echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You’ve been driving me mad. Every look, every word, every touch—” He cut himself off, dragging a hand through his hair before pinning you with a glare. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

His grip on your wrist tightened—not enough to hurt, but firm enough to leave no room for argument. Without another word, he turned sharply, dragging you through the corridors at a pace that made it clear his patience had completely run out.

You didn’t protest, your steps falling into sync with his as he led you toward the one place he knew you’d have privacy: the Undercroft.

When you finally reached the hidden entrance, Sebastian didn’t even bother with his usual careful precision. He muttered the incantation quickly, his voice rough with impatience, and the hidden door swung open. He tugged you inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud that echoed in the quiet, secluded space.

The silence hung for a moment, broken only by the sound of your unsteady breaths as Sebastian turned to face you. His gaze was dark, intense, and utterly consuming as he stepped closer, backing you up until your spine pressed against the cool stone wall.

“Do you think this is a joke?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, every word dripping with frustration and something far more primal. His hand braced against the wall beside your head, effectively caging you in.

Your smirk returned. “I think you’re overreacting,” you replied, your tone light but laced with a hint of defiance. “All I did was—”

“All you did,” he interrupted sharply, his other hand gripping your chin gently but firmly, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “was make me spend the entire day trying not to lose my fucking mind.”

You didn’t back down, even as his chest brushed yours. “I was just having fun."

“Fun?” Sebastian echoed, his lips curling into a humorless smile. “You think driving me mad was fun?”

You tilted your head, grinning. “I think you like it."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to reach its breaking point. His thumb brushed over your jaw, a deceptively soft gesture that made your breath hitch. “Maybe you're right,” he admitted, his voice gravelly. “But don’t think for a second that you’re off the hook. You’re going to pay for every second of torture you put me through today.”

Your smirk widened, and you leaned up to brush your lips against his, your voice a teasing whisper against his mouth. “Promise?”

Sebastian’s answering smile was dark and full of intent as he guided you toward the sofa. “Oh, you have no idea.”

[janeyseymour]

Second Chances

Summary: Melissa isn't so sure about you- until you convince her to give you a second chance.

WC: ~2.35k

“Just try it!” Jacob Hill is currently pestering Melissa Schemmenti. “You never know what you might find on there.”

“If I say I’ll give it a shot, will you leave me the hell alone?” the redhead rolls her eyes from the other side of the couch.

“Yes!” the social studies teacher exclaims. “All of the men and women that you bring here for a one night stand always end up eating my cereal…” he mumbles.

“Fine. But if I have to do this, then you have to help me set it up.”

“Gladly.”

So that’s how the two unconventional roommates end up spending that Thursday night- setting up a dating profile for Melissa on Hinge.

“You can’t say that!” Jacob cuts in when the second grade teacher wants to write ‘Fuck the Cowboys’.

“I am not using that picture,” Melissa refuses when the man wants her to put a picture of herself in a rather provocative position. “I have standards, Hill.”

“Do you really think that’s the best thing to say?” Jacob can be heard asking at yet another questionable response to one of the prompts.

But finally, a relatively agreed on account is made. And then the daunting task of swiping left and right is upon the two of them. They seem to agree on what is suitable for the bachelorette and what isn’t- for the most part.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Melissa mumbles at one point.

Jacob’s brows lift. “What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s my ex-husband,” the redhead mumbles. “Dumb ass.”

The social studies man thumbs through the profile. “Seriously, Mel Mel? You could’ve done so much better.”

“And that’s why we divorced.”

Eventually though, there are a few solid contenders. And you just so happen to be one of them.

On the other side of the screen, you come across Melissa’s profile. And wow- she’s- she’s gorgeous. You end up sending her a rose in hopes of your chances of her seeing you growing.

And she does see you. You can see that she ends up swiping right on you, and you take it upon yourself to attempt to start the conversation. You look through her account and see that one of her prompts leads her to admit that although she owns a guitar, she doesn’t really know how to play it. So, going off of that one little bit, you strike up conversation.

What if I told you that I’d teach you guitar? I’ve been playing for a while now.

“Jake,” Melissa sighs once he’s moved back to his spot.

“What? Did you get a match?”

“I got more than a match,” the redhead grins. “You know I still got it- Philly 11 and all. But… that one girl that we both agreed was beautiful swiped right and messaged.”

“What?!” the man gasps in his own trademarked way. “Well? What did she say?!”

The second grade teacher tosses her phone towards the social studies teacher. He just barely manages to catch it with a smile. And when he see the message, he begins to type.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Melissa’s eyes widen. “You gotta tell me what you’re typing before you se-” She hears the sent ringtone. “Jacob.”

“My finger slipped?” the man grins innocently as he tosses back the phone.

Green eyes look at the message, and Melissa has to admit that it isn’t nearly as bad as she was expecting. And with his witty remark, conversation between the two of you flows nicely.

It even carries into the next day, and then the day after that.

So, we’ve been talking for a few days now, you type out during your lunch break at work. And I usually suck at replying on this app.

Well, you’ve been doing a pretty good job with me, Melissa responds.

I’ve found that you’re the exception, you reply wittily. If you’d like, I can give you my number. But if you’re not ready for that, I respect it and can wait until I get to take you out to dinner to get your number.

Well, when and where are we going to dinner?

By the end of your lunch (and apparently her lunch period too, as you’ve learned she’s a teacher), you have a date planned for tomorrow for a happy hour.

I’m here, you text. Got us a table by the windows.

Just parked, Melissa tells you. Be there in a minute.

You clock her as soon as she comes into the restaurant. And she’s even more stunning in person than she was in the pictures. You didn’t think that was going to be possible.

“You made it,” you reply cheekily.

“You knew I was coming,” the redhead rolls those striking green eyes of her. It’s in this moment that you realize how sparkly her eyes are- how they’re filled with so many feelings, the golden speckles in her eyes appearing to shine brighter. Then she smiles brightly at you, and- wow. That smile could stop the world if it wanted to with the amount of charm it has to it.

The two of you end up talking for hours. She’s hilarious, and smart, and witty, and everything you could ever want in a partner. Not only is she absolutely beautiful, she has the brains to back it all up. And you let her know that.

“Well,” you chuckle as you’re getting ready to leave for the night. “I don’t know about you, but I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Same,” Melissa smiles at you.

“And if you would be up for it, I’d really like to see you again.”

When you think she’s about to agree with you, her lips quirk to the side a bit awkwardly. “I’m going to be upfront with you hun. I… I don’t know if I see this going anywhere romantically.”

“Oh.” You aren’t quite sure what to say.

“Don’t get me wrong hun. You’re great, and I really did have a nice time with you tonight. I just… I think I see you as more of a friend right now than a romantic partner.”

You take in a deep breath. You know you have to shoot your shot. “I respect that, but… hear me out?”

“Shoot.”

“I- I don’t make a lot of connections with people. And I think you’re… you’re really cool. You’re really pretty, and you have the brains to back it up. I haven’t met anyone like you in- in a really long time. So, give me one more chance- for you to realize that I’m the best date that you’re going to get off of Hinge,” you joke.

Green eyes look into your own. She holds her hands up. “Alright, you sold me on one more date.”

“Well, do you think I could get your number now? Or do I have to keep messaging you on Hinge?”

A perfectly manicured hand reaches for your phone and dials her number.

“Perfect,” you chuckle as you help her into her jacket and guide her out the door. “Where are you parked?”

“Down that way.” She points in the opposite direction of your car. “You?”

“Other side,” you laugh. “But I can walk you to your car if you want?”

Melissa shakes her head though. “I got it. Thanks though, hun.”

“Alright, Miss Independent,” you quip with a smirk. “Get home safe?”

“You do the same.”

And with that, the two of you part ways.

As you pull into your driveway, you text Melissa. Hey, I really did have a nice time tonight. That being said, if you really don’t want to go out a second time and were just saying okay to get me off your back, we don’t have to. I respect your decision.

No, I am a woman of my word, is the response you get back. I’ll give you one more chance- because I had a nice time tonight too.

Okay, you type. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling pressured.

Trust me. If I didn’t want to go out with you again, I would’ve shot you down.

“So?” Jacob is eagerly waiting at the door to hear all about how her date with you went. “You were out with her for a while! That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Melissa smiles. “She’s cool. I don’t know if I really seeing it going anywhere more than friends, but… she’s cool. And hot as hell.”

“Well, is there going to be a second date?” the social studies teacher prompts.

The woman laughs. “She practically begged for one.”

“And you said?” Jacob singsongs.

“I said I’d give it one more chance.”

You end up getting to see the redhead that you’ve been talking to about a week later. Meeting at the same restaurant makes you chuckle, but it’s nice. It’s a place that both of you are comfortable.

The date ends up being just as long as your first. And as things are winding down, you can’t stop yourself from asking the question that you’ve been wanting to ask since hour two. 

“So, do you still see me as ‘just a friend’, or have I convinced you?” you tease with a warm smile.

“Honestly?” Melissa sighs out, and you feel like you know where this is going. “I don’t know how you did it, but you convinced me.”

You have to stop your jaw from dropping. “Really?”

“Really,” the redhead chuckles. “Why? Does that surprise you?”

“It does,” you admit.

“I’ll be really honest, I wasn’t expecting to still be here. I expected to be here an hour at most before letting you down easily, but… I don’t know. There’s something about you, and I can’t quite place it, but: yes, you changed my mind.”

“I mean, hey… I’ll take what I can get,” you giggle.

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully as she smirks at you. “Yeah, you do that. Don’t let it get to your head.”

The two of you leave the restaurant, and this time she actually allows you to walk her back to her car.

When you go to walk away though, that low, gruff voice that you’ve become almost infatuated with calls back for you. You turn sharply.

“Did you seriously park on the other side of the strip?”

You shrug.

“Come here,” Melissa tells you. “Dumb ass.”

You jog your way back to her car.

“Get in.”

“What?”

“I’m not letting you walk three blocks in this freezing cold weather,” the redhead tells you. “So get in.”

You listen to her order- of course you do.You would be foolish not too. And besides, her ordering you around like this? It’s hot.

You direct her to your car, and before you can climb out you turn to face her. “Thank you.”

“Whatever,” the teacher chuckles. “Maybe next time just park where you know I always park.”

“Noted,” you smile. And then in a bold move, you ask, “Can I- Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Instead of answering your question, the redhead pulls you in herself. And… wow. When the two of you pull away, you can’t help the smile that washes over your face. You pull her in for yet another kiss, and it quickly turns into something a little more. Her hands begin to wander your body, and when you feel her fingers begin to play with the hem of your jeans, you know you have to put a stop to this.

“Mel,” you husk out as you pull away. “Mel.”

“What?”

“Not that I’m not enjoying this, but… I don’t want to be someone that you just hook up with on the second date,” you whisper.

Her hands retract themselves from your body immediately.

“I- I actually like and respect you,” you tell her. “I don’t want to- I mean, I do want to… but… uh…”

“I know what you’re trying to say,” Melissa chuckles. “I- I guess I just thought this was what you wanted, and I- I’m used to being used for my body.”

“No, no, no,” you rush out quickly. “I am not using you for your body. I meant what I said when I told you that yes, you’re beautiful, but you also have the brains to back it up, and I- I really like that.”

“I appreciate that,” the redhead tells you quietly. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you give her a sad smile back. “I’m sorry that you feel that people only use you for your body, but I promise you- that’s not me.”

“I believe you.”

“Good,” you reply shortly. “On that note-” you lean in and give her another quick kiss as you reach for the door. “Let me know when you get home? And when we can maybe see each other again?”

“I think I’d like that,” Melissa smiles. 

“You’re home late,” Jacob quips as he sits in the living room. “I thought you said you weren’t planning on staying out late with Y/N.”

“Well, plans change, Jacob,” the redhead mutters.

“So… you changed your mind about her?”

The second grade teacher smiles at the thought of what had taken place in her car about ten minutes ago. “Yeah.”

Melissa pulls out her phone to text you. Home. Thank you again for dinner tonight.

My pleasure, you reply. Glad you got home safe. Let me know when you can squeeze me into your schedule so I can see you again.

Will do.

“What’s got you smiling?” the history teacher inquires.

Green eyes go to glare at her roommate. “Nothin’. Just letting Y/N know I got back safely.” And when the man starts to ask another question, Melissa cuts him off. “No more questions. Goodnight.”

As the redhead prepares herself for bed that night, she can’t help but giggle with glee at how well the second date had went. She went from not being so sure about you, to almost being enamored with you and your charm and wit.

She sends one final text of the night. Without seeming too eager, I’m free next Tuesday.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @morgananyx

[legendofmorons]

Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.

Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.

When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.

Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.

That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.

They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.

In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.

A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.

As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.

How do you think the boys would move forward from this?

-VS Anon

Dreamscape

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.

Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.

Warnings: none.

Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.

You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.

Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.

Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.

So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.

A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.

You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.

In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.

A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.

A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think

A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.

Even the small flute from your travels.

"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.

You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.

This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.

Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.

The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.

A river runs through it.

Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.

You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.

-------

After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.

First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.

Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.

And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.

You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.

The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.

You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.

Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.

With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.

You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.

Okay, this is a lot.

"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.

"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.

"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.

You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.

"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.

"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."

"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.

"Maybe."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.

"I'm Time."

"Legend."

"Hi, I'm Wind!"

"Wild."

"I'm Warriors."

"Hyrule!"

"I'm Sky."

"Four."

You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.

"I'm (Y/n/n)."

-------

Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.

The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.

He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.

"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."

"What?" Hyrule chokes.

"You're name is (Y/n)?"

About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.

"Uh- yeah?"

"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.

"Oh stars." Time mutters.

"I mean, maybe?"

"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.

"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."

"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.

"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."

"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"

"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"

"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.

"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.

This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.

"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.

"Glad I helped?"

"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 Until Dawn males x male reader

Summary: 4 smut scenarios featuring each of the men from Until Dawn. Each scenario exists in its own standalone world, completely unconnected to the others—distinct, isolated, and unforgettable.

Tags: He/Him pronouns used for the reader. Mike Munroe x male reader; Matt Taylor x male reader; Josh Washington x male reader; Chris Hartley x male reader. Set before the events of the game. All of these are separated and not connected. All of these with bottom male reader. Friends to lovers/ established relationships. Smut. Gay smut. Dom Mike Munroe. Gentle dom Matt Taylor. Dom Josh Washington. Submissive Chris Hartley. Pinning. Anal sex. Shower sex. Riding. Blowjob.

Recently reached 300 followers and i wanted to do something special <3

Words counts: 8000 words (around 2000 for each character)

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ ℳ𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ

Cocky and relentless. Teasing that borders on merciless, using his natural charisma to push buttons and see you squirm and blush beneath him. He doesn't stop until he's left you utterly wrecked, trembling and begging for more. He'd enjoy having full control, alternating it with whispered reassurances or moments of tenderness.

Mike Munroe sat in the chair beside you, leaning back with his signature cocky grin plastered across his face, a textbook in front of him that he hadn't opened once since arriving. He had the look of someone who didn't really care about studying, which, frankly, was true. This entire night was a ruse, a flimsy excuse to be alone with you under the pretense of needing help with an exam.

The plan had seemed solid in his head. You'd sit close, explain things to him with that focused, determined look he loved and he'd lean in, let his charm work its magic and, eventually, your studying would devolve into something much less productive.

Mike had always been good at getting what he wanted. A flash of his smile, a sly remark and most people melted. But now, as you sat at the desk flipping through pages and genuinely trying to explain a concept he couldn't care less about, Mike was starting to feel… frustrated.

"You're telling me I have to memorize all this crap by Thursday? Who the hell needs to know about… what even is this—" he glanced down at the page in front of you, squinting as if the words offended him “—polynomial functions for real life? What, am I gonna solve equations at my job interview?"

You sighed, trying to ignore his dark eyes locked onto yours instead of the textbook in front of him. "You signed up for the class, Mike. I didn't force you to take it."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, waving a dismissive hand. "But that's why you're here." He leaned in closer, resting his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand, his face mere inches from yours. "You make it all make sense. You're, like, my personal genius."

Your stomach twisted at the compliment, even though you tried to brush it off. This was just Mike being Mike, wasn't it? He was like this with everyone. Charming, flirtatious, impossible to ignore. You'd seen him in action before: the way he smirked at the girls in class, the playful winks he threw at random people in the cafeteria.

It was just his thing. And yet, being on the receiving end of it made your heart race in a way that was becoming harder to ignore.

"Your 'genius' thinks you should actually start paying attention," you said, nudging the notebook closer to him. "Try solving this one."

Mike groaned dramatically, dragging the notebook toward him like it physically pained him to do so. "You're cute when you're bossy."

"Mike—“

"I'm kidding." He shot you a lopsided grin before glancing at the problem you'd written out. He picked up the pen, twirling it between his fingers as his brow furrowed in mock concentration. "Okay, so, uh… the square root here is… this, right?"

You couldn't help but laugh at how off he was, shaking your head as you leaned over to correct him. The faint scent of his cologne, woodsy with a hint of spice, hit you as you got closer and you froze for a moment, suddenly all too aware of how close you were.

Mike noticed. Of course he noticed. His grin widened and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking from your face to your lips and back again.

You cleared your throat, quickly retreating to your seat. "Focus, Michael."

"I am focusing," he said, his voice warm and husky now, enough to make your pulse race and your breath catch. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms behind his head, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of toned stomach. He caught your eyes flicking down and smirked. "On you."

Your face burned and you buried it in the textbook, pretending to reread a section. "Don't you have an exam to pass?"

"Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah," he said, waving his hand lazily. "But it’s hard to concentrate when you're sitting there all cute and stuff."

Your heart stuttered, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes, words stuck in your throat as you kept your focus ahead.

He shifted on the chair, his eyes trailing to your lips as you read aloud from the book. God, you had no idea how good they looked, slightly pursed as you concentrated on the material. He could only think about how soft they would feel against his, how warm they'd be as they moved down his body.

His gaze darkened, drifting lower, watching the way your throat moved as you spoke. He wanted to trace his lips there, feel your pulse against his tongue. The idea made his pants feel uncomfortably tight and he shifted again, trying to will the thoughts away.

The study session continued, with you trying your best to keep things on track despite Mike's constant interruptions. He'd accidentally brush his hand against yours when reaching for a pen, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. He'd lean in close under the guise of needing help, his lips so close to your ear that his breath tickled your skin as he murmured, "Explain that one more time?"

The shift you made brought you closer, your thigh brushing against his and Mike had to work hard not to react.

"Here," you said, pointing to a diagram you'd sketched out earlier. "This is how you get everything right. Got it?"

Mike barely registered your words. He was too busy realizing how he could feel the faint heat of your body. His eyes dropped to your hands as you gestured toward the page, wondering what they'd feel like gripping his shoulders, his hips, his—

"Mike”

"Hmm?" He blinked, forcing himself to meet your gaze.

"Are you sure you're okay? You keep zoning out. You said you needed help with this, right?"

Mike sighed dramatically, flopping back on the bed. "Yeah, yeah, I need help," he muttered, though he wasn't talking about school.

As you leaned forward to grab some papers on the desk, his eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, the way your shirt shifted slightly to reveal just a hint of skin.

It was torture.

Sweet, delicious torture.

"Can we take a break? I feel like I'm not gonna retain any of this if I don't decompress a little."

You glanced at the clock. "We've only been at it for 20 minutes."

"Exactly!" Mike said, his grin widening. "That's, like, more than I've ever studied so far."

You rolled your eyes, doing your best at suppress the warmth rising at his warm gaze in your direction. "Let me at least finish this thing?"

"Alright, fine," he muttered, picking up the book with a theatrical sigh and flipping through it aimlessly. "Keep cracking the whip, Teach."

You smiled faintly and got up to grab another set of notes from your backpack. The second you stood, Mike's eyes trailed down the curve of your back, lingering too long on the way your jeans clung to your butt. He bit his bottom lip, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

Enough was enough.

With a quick sigh, he stood, ego hurt and curiosity piqued. He closed the textbook on your desk with a sharp thud. His lip curled briefly at the sight of the boring equations inside, a momentary flicker of irritation at how they'd monopolized your attention. Then he turned his focus back to you.

When you turned around, annoyed at now being able to find what you were looking for, you froze.

He moved closer until your back pressed against the wall. His chest rose and fell steadily, his lips curving into a soft, almost vulnerable smile.

"Can I ask you something?" His voice was low, the teasing edge stripped away, leaving something raw and earnest.

"Uh… sure?" Your pulse quickened as his hand came up, resting lightly against the wall beside your head. His tall frame radiating heat as he leaned closer to you. His dark eyes bore into yours, not with the usual teasing glint, but with raw, unfiltered emotion that made your heart race.

"Do you like me?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

The question hit you like a punch to the chest. "What?"

"You heard me," Mike said, his tone softening, though the intensity in his gaze didn't waver. "Do you like me? Because, damn it, I can't keep this up anymore. I came here because I wanted to be with you, not to study. I just… I need to know."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you could barely think after hearing the vulnerability in his voice.

"Just tell me the truth," he murmured, his hand lifting to cup your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek and the tenderness of the gesture made your knees weak.

Your throat tightened and you felt heat flooding your face. "Yes, Mike. I like you. A lot."

His grin returned, slow and breathtaking, as though your words were the only answer he'd ever wanted. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."

He closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It was hungry, raw, as though he'd been starving for this moment. His hands found your waist, pulling you forward until you were pressed tightly against him as his tongue pushed into your mouth, exploring with urgency.

You gripped his shoulders instinctively, your fingers digging into the firm muscle as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. "Fuck, I've been wanting this for so long. You have no idea."

He bent down abruptly, his arms sliding under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. You gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist. Mike's lips moved to your neck, kissing and nipping as he trailed down to your collarbone. His light stubble scratched your skin, a delicious friction that left you squirming in his hold. He sucked a mark just above your collarbone, his tongue soothing the sting before he moved up to your jaw, his breath hot against your cheek.

"You taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice a husky growl.

His lips found yours again, the kiss deeper this time, his tongue delving into your mouth as though he couldn't get enough. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he ground his hips against you. You could feel his hardness through his jeans, pressing insistently against you and making you ache with need.

With a grunt, Mike turned and carried you to the bed, laying you down carefully before crawling on top of you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, his sturdy frame caging you in as his lips found your neck again. His hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mix of reverence and urgency.

You moaned softly as his teeth grazed your neck, his tongue soothing the sensitive skin before his lips claimed yours again. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it off in one swift motion before discarding his own. His bare chest pressed against yours, the heat of his skin making you gasp as his lips continued their assault on your neck.

Mike's hands moved lower, unfastening your pants with a speed that made your head spin. He slid them down along with your underwear, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you fully bare beneath him.

His fingers found their way between your legs, teasing you as he leaned down to kiss you again. His other hand wrapped around your length, stroking you with firm, steady movements that made your hips buck into his hand.

"You like that?" he asked, his grin wicked as he watched your reaction. "I want to hear you, baby. Don't hold back."

He worked you with expert precision, his mouth returning to your neck to suck another mark. He was relentless, his fingers slipping lower to tease your entrance, his voice low and commanding.

"Relax for me," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

His fingers moving in and out with practiced ease as he murmured praises against your skin. His other hand continued stroking you, his thumb teasing your tip in a way that had you writhing beneath him.

"God, you're so tight," he muttered, his breath hot against your neck. "I can't wait to feel you around me."

When he finally replaced his fingers with the hot, throbbing weight of his cock, the stretch was overwhelming. You hissed, your hands gripping his shoulders as he sank into you slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against yours.

Mike’s lips didn't stop their assault on your neck, alternating between wet, searing kisses and the light scrape of his teeth that left trails of fire in their wake. Each movement of his hips pressed his thick, throbbing length deeper against you, and the friction was maddening.

"Fuck," he whispered, "You feel so good. So fucking good."

His restraint snapped, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he fucked you deeply, his groans mixing with your moans in the heated air.

His pace quickened, his thrusts hitting deeper as he angled his hips just right. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as pleasure overwhelmed you.

"That's it," he growled. "Let me hear you."

You couldn't hold back, your moans growing louder as he pushed you closer to the edge. His hand slipped between your bodies, stroking you in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me," he whispered, his voice strained.

His words sent you over the edge, your climax hitting you as you cried out his name. The way your body clenched around him pushed him over the edge, his thrusts growing erratic as he spilled inside you with a deep groan.

He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close. "Worth every second," he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

ℳ𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒯𝒶𝓎𝓁ℴ𝓇

He would seek constant reassurance as he takes tentative steps. However, once he gains confidence, he becomes surprisingly assertive. He'd focus entirely on your pleasure. His athleticism would lend itself to strength and stamina, ensuring you're worshiped and cherished. He would revel in making you feel safe yet utterly overwhelmed by the raw power of his passion, glowing with pride every time he draws out a moan or gasp.

The campus was alive with the lazy hum of an afternoon sun. Matt Taylor was out on the field, his athletic frame in constant motion as he jogged the perimeter.

The way his shirt clung to him, damp and snug from exertion, only highlighted the strength in his broad shoulders and the subtle definition of his chest. It clung stubbornly to his abs, outlining the defined ridges of his stomach. Every muscle in his body seemed to work in perfect harmony as he moved.

The sweat glistening on his caramel skin only made him look more enticing.

He stopped after a lap, bending slightly to catch his breath, hands resting on his thighs. The sight was enough to steal yours.

There were moments when his head would turn, his dark, warm eyes flicking in your direction. He always seemed aware of your presence, like you were a natural part of his environment. The way you looked at him was as essential as the air he breathed.

He'd catch your gaze just for a second, his lips quivering into a smile. It was like he knew you were watching and wanted to remind you that he saw you, too.

With a deep breath, Matt straightened, one hand pushing his damp shirt away from his torso, exposing the hard lines of his stomach. Wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a calm, unhurried precision.

Matt tilted his head just slightly, as if gauging your reaction. Then, without missing a beat, he pressed his hand to his lips and blew a kiss in your direction.

Your heart stuttered, the sheer casualness of it leaving you stunned.

He turned toward the bench at the edge of the field, where his water bottle rested and took a moment to hydrate. He poured some of the cool water over his head, letting it cascade down his face and neck before trailing over his chest. The droplets caught in the sunlight, gleaming as they traced the curve of his shoulders and the hard ridges of his collarbone. His free hand dragged across his jaw, wiping the excess water away in a move that was as unintentional as it was captivating.

The others called out to him, ready to start another round of drills and he responded with an easy wave. As he jogged back to join them, he passed by where you sat.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and warm, tinged with the kind of softness he reserved for moments like this. He leaned down, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "I was trying out some new moves. Gotta know if they're, you know, impressive enough." His tone was light and teasing, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, like he genuinely cared what you thought.

"They're impressive," you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

His smile softened and for a moment, he looked almost shy. "Thanks," he said, straightening up and running a hand through his short, damp hair.

You watched as he jogged back to his friends, the muscles in his legs flexing with every step. He jumped right back into the game, throwing himself into it with renewed energy. He made daring plays, diving for the ball in ways that sent his friends laughing and clapping him on the back. He'd glance your way after every particularly bold move, his smile growing brighter each time he saw you watching, eager to impress you.

The dim lighting of the locker room cast soft shadows over Matt's glistening body as he leaned against the lockers, phone in hand, his voice warm and playful. His towel hung loosely around his neck and his shirt was long forgotten, leaving his torso on full display. Every inch of him radiated heat.

The room was quiet now, save for the distant echo of running water in the pipes and the soft shuffle of Matt's footsteps as he paced near the benches.

"Yeah, I'm still here," he chuckled into the phone, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing affection as he talked with you. "No rush, though. No one else is around."

He glanced at the screen, his smile softening before he made up his mind on what to do next.

"Want to hang out? We can talk later after I'm done here, if you want?" He murmured, voice low with a sweet and earnest tone.

"Turn around," you said.

Matt froze for a moment, processing your voice now coming from behind him. He spun on his heel, his eyes widening as they landed on you standing just inside the locker room door. A surprised laugh escaped him and he hung up the call, sliding his phone into the pocket of his gym bag.

"You're here," he said, his grin growing wider. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and shyness as he took a hesitant step forward.

"I wanted to surprise you," you replied, your voice soft but steady.

He moved closer, the heat of his body palpable even from a few feet away. The faint sheen of sweat making every curve of his muscles stand out.

"Let me—uh—just a sec," Matt stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as he closed the distance between you. He was so careful, leaning in slowly as though worried he'd overwhelm you. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, the saltiness of his sweat mingling with the sweetness of his breath.

"You don't mind the, uh…" He gestured to himself, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Not at all," you murmured, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, his mouth moving against yours with a mix of gentle passion and restrained hunger. One arm looped around your waist while his big hand cradled the back of your head. His hands found your hips, his touch firm but tender.

He broke the kiss only to glance over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the empty locker room. Once satisfied you were alone, he turned back to you, his expression soft but smoldering.

"Shower's right there," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Think we could, uh… clean up together?"

The corner of his mouth twitched in a nervous smile, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable.

You didn't answer with words, letting your lips find his again instead, this time with more urgency as he backed behind with you caged in his arms.

The shower stalls were humid and warm, steam curling in the air as Matt turned on the water, letting it cascade down his back. He stood under the stream for a moment, his head tilted back, droplets running over his shoulders and down his chest, washing away the sweat that clung to him.

He turned to you, his expression soft but filled with intent. "Come here," he whispered, holding out a hand.

You stepped into the stall, the warm spray hitting your now naked skin as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. His lips found yours again, deeper this time, his hands exploring your back, your sides, the curve of your hips. His touch was firm but gentle, every movement infused with the kind of care that made your chest ache.

His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly to press you against the cool tile wall. The contrast of temperatures sent a shiver through you, but Matt's body pressed against yours was a furnace, his heat keeping you grounded.

The water ran between you, slicking your skin as his kisses trailed down your neck, his lips warm and soft against your wet skin. His breath was hot, mouth lingering over every inch of you like he couldn't get enough.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, water dripping from his hair and into your eyes.

Hands broad and rough from years of training roamed your body with deliberate care. He started at your waist, his thumbs grazing your hips, then slid them down to cup your thighs, pulling you closer until every inch of him was flush against you.

His lips moved down the side of your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses that lingered, his tongue flicking out to taste the droplets sliding down your skin. "You feel so damn good." Matt murmured, his voice thick with need.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip before his tongue pushed into your mouth. His hands drifted lower, gripping your ass firmly as he hoisted you up, pressing you against the cold tile wall.

His hips pressed into yours and you felt the unmistakable hardness between his legs, the weight of him grinding slowly.

"Matt," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat as his lips found your collarbone, then moved lower, trailing down your chest. He paused at your nipple, his mouth closing around it, his tongue swirling as his teeth grazed just enough to make you arch into him.

The water streamed down his back as he continued his descent, his tongue and lips mapping a path across your stomach, his hands gripping your hips tightly, anchoring you. He looked up at you as he knelt, his eyes filled with a hunger that made your knees weak.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching as he kissed along your thighs, his mouth hot against your damp skin. His fingers traced delicate patterns, teasing you, making you ache for more. He submits his mouth to take on your length, his tongue flicking out to taste you, slow and deliberate as he traced every vein and ridge.

The sensation of his mouth on you was almost too much. Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you arched up against him.

His hands gently rested on your soft, supple ass. He circled the hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle. Your head tilting up as the finger went in deeper before adding in another finger.

When you were trembling beneath his touch, Matt stood again, pulling you into another searing kiss. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you easily as he aligned himself with you. The anticipation was overwhelming, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me if I'm too much. I don't want to hurt you."

His sweetness melted into raw passion as he slowly pushed inside, stretching you in a way that made your breath catch. The pressure was intense, the fullness almost too much, but Matt paused, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured against your skin.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice strained, his restraint obvious as he let you adjust.

When you nodded, giving him the okay, he began to move. His thrusts were slow at first, measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he found a rhythm, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the small, steamy space.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he buried himself deeper.

His pace quickened, his control slipping with each thrust, his eyes watching you intensively, filled with unspoken adoration and need.

Matt's hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations were overwhelming, your body tightening around him as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

"Come for me. I want to feel you," Matt whispered, voice a mix of command and plea.

His words pushed you over the edge, your climax ripping through you with an intensity that left you shaking, your cries muffled against his shoulder. The way your body clenched around him sent him spiraling, his thrusts becoming erratic as he groaned your name, his release spilling inside of you hot, heavy and overwhelming.

He held you there, both of you trembling as the water continued to pour over your exhausted bodies, his breath ragged but his smile soft.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse but filled with tenderness.

You nodded, your fingers threading through his damp hair as you pulled him into a soft, lingering kiss. "More than okay."

And with that, Matt grinned affectionately before wrapping you in his arms, his warmth and love enveloping you completely.

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 𝒲𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓉ℴ𝓃

He would be almost hypnotic. His hands firm, guiding you like a puppeteer while he watches every reaction with piercing eyes. Touch that alternate between rough and tender. He'd seek absolute surrender, his lips tracing feverish paths across your skin as he demands every gasp, every shiver, until you're completely undone.

The basement was dimly lit, a warm glow from the single overhead bulb casting shadows over the eclectic collection of items Josh's family had accumulated over the years. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with dusty film reels, old cameras and props from Josh's endless experiments in cinematography. You trailed behind him as he rifled through a box, muttering under his breath about where he'd left the camera he needed.

"You've got enough stuff down here to make a whole trilogy,” you spoke amazed, picking up a fake severed hand from one of the nearby tables. "Let me guess, this was for some horror project?"

Josh turned, his smirk lighting up his face even in the shadows. "Oh, that? Nah, that was just Halloween last year. Dad thought it'd be funny to have it sticking out of the candy bowl." He rummaged through a nearby crate, pulling out a few props from old projects like the fake blood packets and a weathered script.

You laughed, shaking your head as you placed it back on the table. Josh returned to rummaging through his box of supplies and your attention wandered to a nearby shelf where a cracked clown mask hung ominously. This place is like a treasure trove, a mix of fascinating and unsettling, much like Josh himself. His mind always worked a mile a minute, brimming with ideas that danced somewhere between genius and chaos.

"Found it!" Josh declared, holding up a vintage film camera triumphantly. "This baby's gonna make my project an A+ for sure."

"Finally," you teased, crossing your arms. "I thought we'd be down here forever."

Josh's grin widened, that familiar mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. "Oh, don't tell me you're scared of basements."

"I'm not scared of this place," you replied, rolling your eyes while turning around to see again a cool looking mask that you wanted to try out.

"No?" he asked, his tone mock-innocent as he casually reached for something behind him.

When you turned around to face your boyfriend again, your eyes were met with a mask that resembles a skull-like style with a pair of thin black eyebrows, a cracked nose and rotten styled teeth. The dim light casting eerie shadows across the distorted features.

He lunged at you with a guttural growl, arms outstretched. Startled, you yelped involuntarily, stumbling back a step as he grabbed you with exaggerated ferocity. He gripped tightly your waist and hoisted you effortlessly onto a nearby table, pinning you in place.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed, pulling the mask off to reveal his gleeful grin.

"You absolute jerk!" you gasped, swatting at his chest with your right hand in frustration.

Josh laughed, his deep, warm chuckle echoing through the basement. "You should've seen your face! Priceless."

"You're the worst," you muttered, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed how flustered you were.

"Oh, come on," he said, leaning closer. His hands rested on either side of your hips, trapping you. "You're even more handsome when you're scared. Seriously, it's not fair."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, "Let me make it up to you for my genius prank." He concluded the line with a kiss to your neck, his lips warm and insistent against your skin.

"Trust me," he whispered, his voice low and rough, his hands sliding up your sides as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Your breath hitched, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. His fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pushing it up to expose more skin, his lips following the path his hands carved.

"We’ve done it not even an hour ago," you murmured, your voice trembling as he nipped lightly at your shoulder.

Josh chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Perfect then! Means that you’re ready for me," he admitted, pressing his lips to yours into a kiss that was equal parts sweet and consuming. His hands roamed your body with a mix of confidence and care, his touch leaving trails of heat in its wake.

He broke the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. "You look good," he said simply, his voice tinged with awe.

"Stop being sappy," you teased, though your heart raced at his words.

Josh grinned, his hands sliding to your waistband. "Fine, I'll focus on other things"

He made quick work of your pants, his lips finding yours again as he pressed you back against the table. The feel of his body against yours, the weight of him grounding you, sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and intimate.

"You," you replied without hesitation, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

Josh groaned softly, his fingers tightened on your thighs, his thumbs stroking the bare skin just above your knees as he stepped closer, pressing himself against you. His lips trailed along your jawline, soft and teasing at first, but the heat in his movements grew with each passing second.

He tilted your head slightly, exposing more of your neck and pressing his lips there, warm and insistent.

Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue following in a slow, deliberate sweep that left you shivering. His hands roamed upward, fingers hooking under the hem of your shirt before tugging it over your head in one swift motion.

"God," he breathed, pulling back just enough to take you in. His eyes were dark, predatory. "You're fucking amazing."

"You don't look so bad yourself," you managed, your voice shaky but laced with a teasing edge.

Josh smirked, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, there was no pretense of restraint. His tongue slid against yours, the kiss messy and consuming as his hands pulled you closer until there wasn't an inch of space between you.

Your hands found their way to his shirt, pushing it up over his torso. He broke the kiss just long enough to yank it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor before returning his lips to yours. The heat of his bare chest against yours sent a thrill through you, his skin warm and slightly damp as your hands explored the defined lines of his back.

Josh's hips rolled against yours and you felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. Your own erection makes your pants feel painfully tight. He groaned softly, his breath hot against your neck as he ground into you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You're driving me crazy," he admitted, his voice rough as his hands slid to the waistband of your pants. He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes meeting yours. "Can I…?"

"Yes," you said quickly, the word barely more than a whisper.

He grinned, his usual cocky demeanor softened by the flush in his cheeks, and tugged your pants down, his hands deliberate and firm. You kicked them off, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leaned back to admire you.

"You're perfect," Josh said, his voice husky as his fingers traced along your thighs, his touch featherlight but electrifying.

You reached for him, pulling him closer until his body was pressed fully against yours. The feel of him, hard and eager, against your own growing arousal made you gasp. Josh took the opportunity to kiss you again, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, lifting you slightly as he aligned himself with you.

"Ready?" he asked, his hands voice soft but filled with intensity.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as he positioned himself. The stretch as he pushed inside was slow and deliberate, his movements measured as he let you adjust to the fullness.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he buried himself completely.

The words sent a shiver through you, your hands tightening on his shoulders as you urged him to move. Josh pulled back slightly, his hips rocking forward again in a slow, steady rhythm that left you breathless.

He found a pace that was both gentle and intense, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one drawing soft moans from your lips. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he pressed kisses to your neck, your jaw, your lips.

Your own voice trembling as the pleasure built with each movement.

Josh's pace quickened, his control slipping as his need for you overwhelmed him. The table beneath you creaked with each thrust, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the way he filled you, the way his body moved against yours like you were made for each other.

Your climax hit suddenly, a wave of pleasure crashing over you and leaving you trembling in his arms. You cried out his name, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body clenched around him.

Josh wasn't far behind. His thrusts grew erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself as deep as he could, groaning your name as he spilled into you. The warmth of his release sent another shiver through you, the sensation leaving you breathless.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the table, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high. Josh pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands trailing soothing patterns on your back.

"Am i forgiven now?" he asked, his voice hoarse but laced with his usual humor.

You laughed softly, nuzzling into his neck. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Josh grinned, his arms tightening around you as he rested his forehead against yours. "Good. Because I'm not done yet."

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓎

Hesitant, nervous chuckles and self-deprecating jokes peppering the atmosphere before his passion takes over. He's the type to fumble slightly, then find his rhythm as he becomes more confident. He'd moan sweetly, almost embarrassed by how lost he becomes in you, whispering heartfelt praise and words that reflect just how irresistible he finds you.

The game's victory screen flashed across the TV, the sound of triumphant chiptunes filling the room. Both you and Chris collapsed onto the bed in an exhausted heap, the adrenaline of finally beating your highest score leaving you giddy. His laughter bubbled up first, that unmistakable mix of relief and joy that only he could manage and you couldn't help but join in.

"We actually did it," Chris said, breathless as he flopped onto his back, one arm draped lazily across his forehead. "I thought we were doomed when you missed that jump in the third level."

"Excuse me, you're the one who forgot to grab the power-up right before the boss fight." You shot back, turning your head to face him.

Chris groaned, dramatically rolling onto his side to look at you. His glasses were slightly askew and his hair was sticking up in every direction, but he looked so completely relaxed and at ease in that moment that it made your chest ache in the best way. "Okay, okay, my bad. But you have to admit I nailed that final combo."

You snorted, nudging his shoulder with yours. "Yeah, sure. But only because I carried us through the rest of the game."

His jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Carried us? You died twice in the first round, man!"

“And who revived you at the end?" you shot back, smirking.

Chris opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his grin widening as he broke into laughter. "Alright, alright. You're not entirely useless. We're gaming legends now! They're gonna put our names in the Hall of Fame or something."

"Right next to the guy who discovered cheat codes for unlimited lives," you quipped.

"Exactly," he said, grinning as his blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "We're pioneers of our time."

The two of you laid there, the laughter slowly fading into a comfortable silence. The faint glow of the TV bathed the room in soft light, illuminating the faint curve of his smile as he gazed up at the ceiling. His arm was still close to yours, his fingers just brushing against your skin in a way that felt deliberate but unspoken.

"It was fun," Chris said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

"Yeah," you agreed, your own tone softer. "I don't think I've laughed this much in a while."

He turned his head to look at you, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. "From now on you'll be my good luck charm."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You just needed someone to keep you focused. You do get distracted a lot."

Chris groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Don't remind me. I'm like a dog chasing squirrels. Oh look, shiny object—game over."

You both laughed again, the sound soft and intimate in the late-night stillness. When it faded, you found him watching you, his blue eyes catching the flicker of light from the TV.

"What?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but his grin gave him away. "You're a lot of fun to hang out with, you know that? Like, even when you're roasting me."

"Glad to be of service," you teased, your own grin mirroring his.

His gaze lingered a little longer than usual, his expression shifting slightly. "No, but seriously. I mean it. You're, uh… you're really great."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

"Thanks," you said softly. "You're pretty great too, Chris."

He smiled, a little shyly this time, and turned onto his side fully, propping his head up on one hand. "Have you ever thought about how weird life is? Like, one day you're just doing your usual things, then Sam one day shows up with someone like you and suddenly everything's a million times better. Boom. Butterfly effect."

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to be romantic at two in the morning? Because I think the lack of sleep is getting to you."

"Hey, don't ruin my moment!" he protested, but his laughter undercut his words.

You laughed too, the sound mingling with his as the moment stretched on.

You sat up on the bed and then crawled toward your destination, the TV's glow fading as you turned it off. When you turned back to the bed, Chris was sprawled out like a contented cat, his arms spread wide, his legs slightly apart. His glasses were back into their original place at the top of his nose.

"You just gonna stare, or are you gonna accept my invitation?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion.

You laughed, shaking your head, but the way his smile widened when you leaned closer told you that you weren't fooling him for a second. You crawled onto the bed, resting against his side as he let his arm fall lazily around your waist.

"Happy now?" you asked, pressing a quick kiss to his left cheek.

"Getting there," he said, voice soft and a little breathless

You didn't stop, peppering more kisses along his cheek and down to his jaw, light scratches from his stubble against your lips. Your hand wandered lower, brushing over his stomach, then down to his pants, where you felt the beginnings of his growing arousal.

Chris chuckled, the sound nervous but filled with anticipation. His free hand moved to your back, pulling you closer as his breath hitched. "Wow, okay, uh… Someone's feeling bold tonight," he murmured, though his grin betrayed how much he was enjoying it.

"Aren't we supposed to be basking in our gaming glory?"

You squeezed him gently through the fabric, feeling him harden further under your touch. "Should I stop, then?" you teased, feigning innocence as your fingers lingered.

"Nope!" he blurted out quickly, his voice cracking slightly as his head shot up. His face was flushed, but his lips found yours in a soft, insistent kiss, his usual shyness tempered by a growing determination.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours as his hand slid under your shirt, his fingers warm and exploratory against your skin. You shifted, straddling his lap, and he let out a quiet groan as your weight pressed down on him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you slightly as he rolled his hips up, creating delicious friction that left you both breathless.

"God, you're… You're really good at this," Chris muttered, his lips trailing down your neck, each kiss accompanied by a soft hum of approval.

"You sound surprised," you teased, grinding against him again just to hear the way his breath caught.

He laughed softly, though it quickly turned into a low groan. "No, no, I mean—I just—" He stopped, shaking his head as if words were failing him entirely. "Never mind. Keep doing that… please?"

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, your hands slipping under his shirt to explore the warm expanse of his chest. He was lean but toned, his body radiating heat as your fingers traced over him, eliciting small, breathy noises that only spurred you on.

Chris's hands slid to the waistband of his pants, fumbling slightly as he worked them down. "Help me out here," he said with a nervous laugh, his cheeks red but his smile never wavering.

You helped him and he helped you out, the two of you working together to peel away the layers until you were completely bare. Him beneath you with your naked body on top of his. His erection stood proud, flushed and eager and the sight of him vulnerable yet so clearly aroused made your own desire burn hotter.

"You're handsome, you know that?" you said softly, running your hands over his thighs as you sat back to take him in.

Chris laughed, covering his face with one hand. "Oh my God, don't say stuff like that. I'll die."

"Too bad. I’ll say it, whether you like it or not," you teased, leaning down to kiss him again.

His response was a muffled laugh against your lips, but it melted into a moan as you reached down to guide him to your entrance. He gripped your hips tightly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation and when you nodded, he let out a shaky breath.

"Okay," he said, his voice soft but steady. "Okay, just—take your time."

You did, slowly sinking onto him, the stretch intense but achingly good. Chris's grip on your hips tightened, his head falling back against the pillow as a low groan escaped him.

"Holy shit," he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he held you steady. "God, you feel amazing."

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you began to move, your body adjusting to the rhythm as you found a steady pace. Chris's eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted as he sat up from his previous laid position. His hands were guiding your movements but never pushing, always letting you set the pace.

"Is this— shit, is this okay?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as his hips bucked up involuntarily.

"it's perfect," you murmured, leaning down to kiss him. "You're perfect."

His laugh was breathless, almost disbelieving, but he met your kiss with fervor, his tongue tangling with yours as his hands explored your body. The soft gasps he made, whispered curses, your name falling from his lips like a prayer… it all drove you closer to the edge with every thrust.

Chris's movements became more erratic, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency. "I'm—oh God, I don't think I'm gonna last," he admitted, his voice high and strained

"Don't hold back," you said, your own voice trembling as your climax built.

With a choked groan, Chris buried himself as deep as he could and tightened his arm around your body, his release hitting him in waves that left him trembling beneath you. The feeling of him filling you, combined with the look of utter ecstasy on his face, sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you as you collapsed onto his chest.

For a moment, the two of you stayed in that position, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high. Chris's arms pulled you close as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

"Best. Night. Ever," he murmured, his voice warm and content.

"Agreed," you said, your own smile matching his as you nuzzled against him.

If you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3. Let me know if you had a favorite one out of this four fine men ;)

[sc4rrc]

"Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason."

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- 2012!Donnie x reader - Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason - Fluff - Warnings: None Request: Nope, just came up with this on my own whilst reading through some one shots of my personal favourite creators. You like Donnie, he likes you. But you're both as oblivious as ever, despite clearly showing each other that you care. And as a date is set between you and someone who is -clearly- NOT Donnie, he finds it hard to not feel jealous. ════════════════════

For quite some time, nearly since you met, both you and Donnie had held an affection for one another. Whether it was how he saved you and your friend, April, from the Kraang that first drew you to him, or the fact that he so easily got along with you from then on, it didn’t seem to matter. You became close from that point, and eventually you even took part in most of their missions—after you’d gotten more familiar with fighting through Splinter’s lessons.

A few problems did arise between the two of you though, like how oblivious you both seemed when it came to actually catching on that someone might be interested. Or the way doubt crept in because of your close friendship. He’d compliment you a lot, always ensuring your safety on missions, and you did the same for him. But somehow, you both missed the bigger picture. “It’s not something new; he worries about all of us during fights,” you’d tell yourself whenever April pointed it out.

And it was true; he always watched out for his brothers, too. How could he not? They were family. But there he was, watching you train, helping you improve when Splinter was busy.

Other times, you’d be the one to assist him. Sometimes you’d grab things from the top that he did not have easy access to, or simply keep him company in the lab to make sure he took breaks. Lunch, water—the basics. But one thing you both did constantly, no matter how oblivious each of you seemed in the moment, was stare. Even from across the room, one of you would be looking at the other. On movie nights, for example, you’d sit on the couch, Mikey on your right and Casey on your left, everyone focused on the screen—except Donnie, whose gaze would occasionally drift toward you.

He’d become well aware that he was absolutely, undeniably infatuated with you. Even he knew he sometimes went a bit too far with his attention, though his brothers never hesitated to tease him. Raph, mostly. But with his feelings also came doubt, for both of you. After so long, with neither of you daring to believe the other felt the same, you both wondered if it could ever work. You didn’t want to risk your precious friendship on a confession that might lead to rejection. So, silence it was.

“I don’t know, April. Just think about it. If I say something, and he doesn’t feel the same, then this might just ruin our friendship. And I don’t want that.”

Harsh words to admit, really. The thought wasn’t exactly pleasant. April had been trying for ages to nudge you both toward a confession, convinced it would lead to something good. Or maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in her, but she hoped nonetheless. And despite her efforts—along with the boys’ attempts to coax Donnie out of his safe shell—neither of you would budge. Sighing, she finally said, “That is fair, I suppose. But I still stand by what I said earlier. Forgetting doesn’t sound like the best alternative. I’ll help, but that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing with this plan.”

Her words made you smile in gratitude. Crushing on Donnie, though a genuine feeling, had become almost frustrating. He seemed so unaware of your feelings—close, yet so distant. It made you wonder if maybe he really didn’t feel the same. And yes, that stung a little. But it also made you realize that moving on might be necessary. For everyone’s sake, including your own. So, when a boy in your History class asked you out, you accepted. It felt like progress for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon, it became a test to see how quickly you could let go of Donnie, knowing that dwelling on him wasn’t helping you move forward. And after all, it was just a date—a way to focus on someone else. ════════════════════

When it came to being in that position—being told by the girl he couldn’t stop being so fond of that she had a date with some guy, a human guy no less—Donnie wanted to dig himself a hole in the lab and never come out. He’d imagined this day might come, and he felt like he was losing his chance—if he ever even had one. His heart sank as the words left your mouth, and it was hard not to show his disappointment. But for your sake, he put on a smile and congratulated you. He even wished you good luck. Then, once you left the lair, he retreated to his lab, shutting the door behind him, eyes focused on his work. Anything to avoid thinking about his growing jealousy, even for a moment. The others noticed the slump in his shoulders as he walked away but decided to let him be. They knew it might be a long evening in the lair, but they figured the situation might resolve itself—if it could.

--- Time Skip ---

Hours went by, some faster than others, and soon you found yourself back in your apartment, changed into a new set of clothes, ready to sleep the day away. Reflecting on what was supposed to be a date, you thought back to what he’d said: “Listen, I’m not really one for these serious things, ’kay? You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got my ways around relationships, if you want to keep me happy.” That was about all you’d heard before mentally checking out of the “date.” He seemed nice at first but turned out to be a self-centred idiot—not the good kind of idiot either. And with all his talking, you made little effort to understand what he really meant.

You couldn’t recall the whole conversation, but you knew there was no way you’d repeat the experience. The things he said—about you and about others—were all wrong for you. He kept going on about some “party with girls” he had to get to, and the moment he crossed a line, you’d made your exit, realizing just how little interest you had in seeing him again.

You’d only just drifted off when a soft, rhythmic tapping at the window stirred you back to consciousness. Groaning, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and shuffled toward the window, squinting through the curtains. It could only be one of the guys, you knew, but the last thing you expected was to find Donnie, hanging upside down on the fire escape patiently, his expression hovering somewhere between nervous and excited.

Fighting back a laugh, you pushed the window open. “Donnie?” you whispered, the surprise obvious in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

He offered a tentative smile, voice low. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you. Just, uh… thought I’d check in. Make sure you got home okay.”

You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late for a check-in, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He shrugged, his calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal a hint of nervousness. “Couldn’t help myself. April mentioned the date didn’t, uh… go quite how you planned?”

A sigh slipped from you as you pulled the blanket around yourself a little tighter, rolling your eyes. April, of course. “You could say that,” you chuckled. “He was… something, alright.” You caught his amused grin, the faint hint of relief there not lost on you. You shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips despite it all.

Donnie’s face softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve better than that.” His voice was quiet, sincere, but even he looked surprised by his own words, cheeks darkening just a bit under his mask. “I mean, someone who’d treat you better than that. A lot better, actually.”

A warmth spread through you, his words settling in, making you feel a little lighter after such a disappointing night. His gaze hadn’t wavered, and you felt yourself holding your breath, caught off guard by how much his simple words meant.

“Thanks, Donnie. For worrying about me,” you said, the words barely a whisper. Before either of you could overthink it, you leaned out the window and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Donnie froze completely, his eyes wide, his usual calm vanishing in a heartbeat as he stared at you, utterly speechless. It took him a second—maybe two—before he swallowed, blinking a few times as if to process that the kiss had actually happened. A deep blush crept over his face, nearly reaching the edges of his mask.

“Oh. I, yeah.. Anytime,” he stammered, his voice slightly higher than usual. His hand moved almost instinctively to where you’d kissed him, and for a second, he was all but suspended there, entirely lost in the moment.

You bit back a laugh, giving him a little wave before you gently closed the window and pulled the curtain back in place. A small thrill ran through you as you moved back toward bed, a smile lingering even as you settled back under the blankets.

Outside, Donnie remained still, one hand pressed to his cheek, replaying the moment over and over in his head. A grin broke out slowly across his face, unable to hold back the ridiculous happiness building up inside him. "Oh, man... She kissed me. She actually kissed me.” He couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as he clambered back up the fire escape, his heart still thudding as he slipped back into the shadows, feeling no more of that jealousy from earlier. Not even the knowing looks from his brothers as he made his way through the entrance of the lair brought him fully back, his mind still stuck in that moment.

════════════════════ A/N: Here's my first one-shot. I think it turned out pretty good, considering nearly half of what I made the other night in drafts did not save. But idk if I should make a part 2 for this? I could, if I feel like it. It also depends on what you guys want so I might pole it, but the main idea is that I did it. (Also I love Donnie so much, he's so bf material.) - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[lunarmothim]

safehouse - simon riley x reader.

You don't need to know how to read him to understand what you're seeing in his eyes, the dark edge of want that makes your breath catch in your throat. He must see it in yours too because he takes all of two seconds to roll his mask up to his nose, dipping his head to kiss you.

word count: 1.6k tags/warnings: smut my dudes. barely foreplay, just a quick crack of the pressure valve. afab reader. piv, brief oral (m receiving).

The safehouse is quiet. Dark and cold, the air conditioning unexpected after the wet, swampy humidity of the air outside. You won't complain, anywhere to lay your head and all. It's better than nothing.

"Exfil is twelve hours out," Ghost tells you, his voice a low growl as he drops his pack on the threadbare couch.

"Okay," you reply simply, dropping your own pack on the tiny kitchen island, digging out a couple of MREs. You toss one to him before hopping up to sit on the counter, ripping the package open with your teeth. Your canteen thuds onto the laminate beside you, half-empty. The first bite of the meal- chicken and dumplings, you think- is about as awful as you'd expected, and you can't help but make a face. You'll eat it anyway, but you won't enjoy it. You wonder what you'd given him.

Your eyes track over him, searching for injuries now that you have half a second to breathe. "You broken?"

"Solid," he answers, dropping onto the couch next to his pack. He doesn't look up at you, entirely focused on the brown packaging of the MRE you'd thrown his way. "You?"

"Solid," you echo, taking another bite. You hadn't been so sure there for a minute- things had gone tits up not long after you'd landed, your stealth infil clearly not as stealthy as you'd planned for. But you'd come out of it in one piece, mostly. Surprisingly. "They knew we were coming."

"They did." The empty package crackles slightly when he crumples it in one fist, eyes searching the room for a trash can. You almost envy him for the way he can inhale an MRE, like the taste of them doesn't bother him. "Problem for another day. We'll get outta here, regroup. Go from there."

"Hate this." You can't help the way your voice cracks slightly on the words, looking down into the package still in your hands. You don't feel so hungry anymore. "Konni always seems to be one step ahead of us. Like they're mockin' us."

"They are." Ghost says it so simply it makes you feel sick. You reach behind you to drop your MRE packet into the sink, unable to stomach it anymore. You hear his body shift, the creak of the floorboards followed by heavy footsteps, purposefully loud. He stops in front of you, and you inhale sharply when his gloved knuckles nudge under your jaw, tipping your head back until you meet his eyes. "We'll get 'em anyway."

"You sound so sure about that," you breathe, staring up at him. His eyes are dark, unreadable. As someone who wears your heart on your sleeve, you almost envy that about him. His ability to keep it close, to compartmentalize. "We haven't yet."

"But we will." His hand shifts, fingers curling around your jaw. His hold is loose, his eyes boring into yours. Calm. Sure. He sighs, and your eyes close when he tilts forward, resting his forehead against yours. It's the last thing you're expecting, but it feels nice. "We have to. Too much at stake if we don't."

"I know." Your hand curls around his wrist, fingers shaking. It's as close as either of you can get to a promise that everything will be okay.

You stay there like that for a long minute, just breathing each other in. Quiet reassurance. It's not enough, but it'll do for now.

He murmurs your name under his breath, fingers flexing around your jaw, and you open your eyes to meet his. He's staring right back at you, so close you can't tell if it's your heartbeat or his you can hear pounding in your ears. The edge of his skull plate digs into your forehead, indenting the bridge of your nose.

You don't need to know how to read him to understand what you're seeing in his eyes, the dark edge of want that makes your breath catch in your throat. He must see it in yours too because he takes all of two seconds to roll his mask up to his nose, dipping his head to kiss you.

He clearly didn't think it through, though, the skull sewn to the balaclava bumping awkwardly into your nose.

"Fuckin' hell," he mutters, voice a low growl of annoyance that has you giggling. He reaches up, ripping the mask off his head without a second thought before coming back in to kiss you again. You don't expect it, but he doesn't give you a chance to think about it- not when he's singularly focused on yanking your tac pants down your legs, leaving them dangling around one ankle. Your left boot is gone, chucked somewhere across the room, and you can't help a gasp when he practically scruffs you, keeping your head exactly where he wants it while he devours your mouth.

If it's meant to distract you from his hand between your thighs he's not doing a very good job. You're very focused on his fingers, the perfunctory way they drag through slick folds, the barest hint of his thumb teasing against your clit. It's a promise of exactly what this is going to be- something quick and rough, a pressure valve in desperate need of cracking, driven by adrenaline and pent up energy. He's not going to take his time with you, he's not going to build you up and drag you over the edge, you might get one orgasm out of this if you're lucky. It's fine is a surprising thought to have, but you need this just as badly as he does, if you're honest, and if quick and dirty is all he's gonna give you, you'll take it without complaint.

You groan into his mouth, low and filthy, when his first finger slides in to the first knuckle, bucking into his hand. The second has you keening, thick and scissoring you apart in a way that has you wondering just what it is he's packing- it's still not much but it's more preparation than you're used to, thick digits working you open. He grunts at the sting of your teeth sinking into his neck, fingers crooking in a way that has your eyes rolling back, the fingers of his free hand tattooing his prints into your hip.

"That's it," he hisses into your throat, dragging a soft gasp out of you when he pulls his hand away, lining himself up at your entrance. His fingers press wet into your thigh, slick with your arousal, and you choke at the first prod of him, thick and hard and endless. "Good girl, good fuckin' girl-"

When he bottoms out you're sure you've died. That's the only explanation for how you feel right now, split open and so fuckin' full. He's pressed so deep you feel him in your throat, the vibrato of his voice rumbling against your shoulder when you drag your nails down his back. You're not entirely sure God is real but you pray to Her all the same when Ghost draws back and punches right back into you so hard it hurts.

"Fuck," you choke out, voice raw and broken, clutching at him like he's your only lifeline. He groans when your nails dig bloody crescents into his shoulders, a noise you swallow greedily when he finds your mouth again, the taste of tobacco and the MRE heavy on his tongue. You suck his lower lip between your teeth and revel in the way blunted fingernails bite into your ass cheek, dragging you closer. You think you hear the sound of the radio in the background, someone checking in, but you can't bring yourself to care right now, not when Ghost is splitting you in half around him.

"Not gonna last," he growls into your mouth, dragging a raw cry out of you when he drives into your cervix, painful and bruising. His hips stutter when you clench around him in response. "Fuck. Fuck, you feel so fuckin' good-"

"Gonna come for me?" you croak it out between ragged breaths, ruined by the way your voice pitches up. He shudders all the same. Your nails bite into his neck, digging in to the arc of your teeth impressed into his skin. Your eyes meet his, holding his half-lidded gaze, pupils blown wide. "C'mon, want you to come-"

You've barely tipped over yourself before he's ripping away from you. You can't help a startled yelp when he suddenly yanks you down off the counter, your knees slamming into the floor with enough force to bruise. He's quick to silence you with his cock- he doesn't seem to care much when you gag around him, burying himself to release down your throat.

Your palms hit the floor when he releases you, sucking in a ragged breath. You can still taste him, thick and salty, can feel the weight of him on your tongue. You look up at him, hazy through the sheen of tears in your eyes, and the way you see him looking back at you… fuck, you're not expecting that, his vulnerability on full display across his exposed face. Dark eyes peer down into yours, his mouth stretched into a thin line. Every scar is on display, the nose you've imagined buried between your thighs as crooked as you'd expected.

You want more. Fuck, you want more.

You know you won't get it. Not when the radio crackles again and he steps back, the metaphorical mask already back in place even while the physical one still sits on the counter behind you. This had been a one-off, pressure relief.

And you'll just have to be okay with that.

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune line divider by @/gildui

[babygirl-riley]

“You want me to what now?” Simon asked stopping from cleaning up the dinner you made.

Stopped him clean in his tracks. It was such an out of park question that made his mind stop and his cock hard. You played with your hands and had a sheepish smile. “I think we should try with no condom,” Both of you wanted to be extra cautious of not getting pregnant, how much he would rather not glove it on his weight of not being a father beats it. “I am on the pill and worst case if we feel that it is necessary go get a Plan B. I just was talking to Danica…”

“Ah,” Simon said turning his heel and walking to the sink. “Of ‘ourse it was Dani.”

You frowned and rolled your eyes. “She told me it was better with no condom. That it feels better for the man.”

Simon chuckled shaking his head. “I have pleasure no matter the circumstances lovie.”

He placed the plates into the sink as he heard you walking to him. “Si-Just this once. If you say an affirmative no then it will be dropped and never spoken again but you have to look at me in the eyes and tell me no.”

Simon didn’t move for maybe a solid minute before turning around. His eyes were blown wide from lust, you knew that look like the back of your hand. He walked closer to you grabbing your waist and leaned in, you could feel his breath. “What if we can’t stop after one time?”

That made your eyes roll and your thighs rub together. You went to his ear and tugged the mask with your teeth. “Then I guess that would be a problem for a different day.”

Simon had chills run down his spine. He loved when your teeth would tug at his balaclava, then you saying that? He growled lowly before standing up straight. Simon deep down wanted this forever, being able to watch his seed leave your beautiful hole. Feeling your plushie walls gripping his cock. He picked you up and placed you on the counter pushing your thighs apart to place himself between them.

“Listen and listen close,” He started slowly getting on his knees as he wrapped his fingers around your leggings and panties. “I’m fucking ya right here and right now. No preparing. No nothing. Can you do that princess?”

You licked your lips as you moved your hips a bit. Placing your hands behind you to give you good support. Watching him slowly dropping your panties and pants down. He stood back up leaning his forehead to you, you placed both of your hands on his cheeks. “You sure Si?” You whispered pulling your fingers underneath his mask to take it off.

Once you saw his handsome face, you smiled softly giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah.” He whispered back before unbuckling his belt.

It made you whimper a bit as he kissed your lips, then your cheek, then your neck staying there and biting sucking. Knowing damn well work is going to that tomorrow. His fingers went to your cunt as he dived his finger in your hole fast before bringing up to his lip. He groaned and licked it all up. “I haven’t even touched you yet, soaking wet for a fantasy.”

“Simon pleeease,” You whispered hooking your legs around his waist. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He smiled, chuckled, and nodded sliding his pants and boxers off. You looked at his cock, his vein popping out more, his top red and swollen. You moaned even looking at his cock, you licked your lips scooting closer off to the edge. Simon chuckled again. “Needy little thing.” He grabbed your lower back and put his fingers in your pussy to gathering your juices.

You hummed as you watched him lather his cock with your cum. He looked back up at you. Both of your eyes connected you grabbed his cheek and brought him to your lips. His tongue asked for entrance into yours, when you parted your lips he slowly pushed his cock into your pussy. You gasped as he still kissed you, the stretch would always have a small pain, that would soon be replaced with pleasure.

Simon sighed loudly placing his head against your shoulder. You gasped longer, god how it felt different. You could feel every single part of his cock, especially the vein brushing against your walls. Simon filled you with his cock, both of you stayed there for a moment.

“F-ffuck,” He whispered kissing your shoulder. “This…mhm…your pussy feels so nice.”

You whimpered as you moved your hips. Simon hissed as he nodded, he pulled out and snapped right back in. Making you both gasp. He did it again and lifted himself to look in between the both of you. God how he didn’t realize how good it was with you out of the condom. He has fucked girls before for sure but this was different.

He could feel the walls of your pussy gripping around his cock, like it was meant for him. Your walls were so much more cushioned, soft, fuck he would say home. When you would clench, fuuuuck, he could buckle his knees and fall over. Simon started to pick up the pace as he watched yours and his cum mixing together.

“This pussy is mi…” He threw his head back for a moment and his eyes rolling behind his skull. “Fuck…if we continue this…you can…god damn…”

Simon never could have thought about him mumbling to you, he loved it. Loved being able to feel safe enough to mumble sweet things. He has only done it once when you were sucking him off, over and over to the point of overstimulation. Now here he is becoming a mumbling mess, god feeling you clench as he hit that spongy spot over and over.

He felt you were about to cum. “Simon…I’m— I can’t…” You were grabbing onto him, grabbing everywhere.

He nodded pressing his head against yours. “Cum baby girl I fuck I got you.”

That did it for him, her pussy clenched around him like a fucking glove. He started to pant as he fucked you harder and faster. God it was like you both were meant for each other cock and all. You looked at him and pulled him closer, getting down from your high. “You feel so fucking good baby,” you whispered into his ear. “I need you to fuck your cum into me.”

Simon growled as he held you closer as his hips became more erratic sloppy. God how you felt so fucking good, his good girl, his love, his everything. What if you did get pregnant? What would happen? God how beautiful you will look full of his child.

Simon started to whimper himself as you sucked behind his ear. Moaning once more. Hitting your second orgasm. He felt his cock twitch faster harder. “Yes yesyesyesyes!” You started to yell holding onto him even tighter.

That broke him. “Oh fuck,” He yelled feeling his cock twitch, his spine feeling like electricity shot through his body, his skin on fire. Fuck it felt so fucking good. “Oh fuck, fuck lovie fuck fuck!”

That’s when his rope of cum painted your walls. You also whined against his neck, slowly letting go of him intensely. You both laid against each other both of your foreheads sweating, panting. Simon was first to move, you noticed he was shaking a bit. You felt his cock soften inside you. He looked at you and placed his hand on your cheek. Simon slowly pulled out and watched as your cum and his cum started go come out.

Simon groaned watching it slowly hit the table. “Fucking hell lovie,” You looked at him smiling. “We are gettin rid of those condoms yeah?”

simon x reader guide

simon x reader smut list

[mandy-asimp]

Baby Whisperer

Early seasons pregnant JJ where will doesn't want the kid (no hate on will or nun) but yn takes JJ in cus they're in looove and they becaome a baby whispererer

Warnings: internalized homophobia so brief l, love Will right? But he's kinda an ass, so don't hate me and go saying I hate Will cus I don't. I love Will lamon-I need subtitles to understand him only sometimes-Tage.

A/n~ chat this has been in my drafts for months soooo I finally ended it so enjoy

Walking in, Y/n wasn't really expecting to run into a crying JJ in the garage. The woman looked absolutely destroyed and like she just needed anyone.

That's how she found herself in the parking lot of a local burger joint with the blonde. "Now...I only got us an extra hour before we have to go in....do you wanna talk about it?"

Y/n liked to approach everything carefully. It wasn't always her place, but she knew sometimes everyone wanted just someone else's company. She was honestly prepared for JJ to say that it was just a rough morning and she'd be over it in no time.

"I'm pregnant and Will left." She whispered. Trying with everything in her not to start crying again, especially when they were at her favorite burger place. "He..he said that he wasn't ready for a kid and I am. He said I could've have the kid, but if I did..."

"He'd walk..."

"I'm going to have nowhere to go. I can't afford a place on such short notice. I can't do that all and still worry about my job. I just...I can handle a lot. That's what my job is..but I-"

"Come stay with me." Y/n threw it out before she could even think it over. Her mouth just moved on it own. "I have two sore rooms. One can be yours and we'll make the other a nursery."

JJ furrowed her brows and was flushing red. "I-I couldn't ask that much of you."

"Yes you can. And you're not asking me. You would do the same if it was the other way around." Y/n took a bite of her burger. Eyes not daring to meet the blue ones that were for sure staring down her every move.

"What's in it for you though? I mean, nobody offers without anything in return." The blonde raised the question.

The short black bob shook. "I'm getting to know you and whoever you," she pointed towards her belly, "will be are safe every night. Plus, I'm kinda a baby whisperer so it'll give me the chance to get solid evidence."

A soft smile formed on the blondes lips. "And that's it? No other strings attached?"

"All you should have to worry about is taking care of yourself. I'm just here to help make it easier."

"Deal then." JJ agreed. "What if though-"

"Usually when people say deal they don't add any conditions after." Y/n had a sly smile on her face.

JJ was quick to throw her arm to wack the other's. "In return you get God parent privileges?"

Y/n was also quick, quick to shake her head. "There's nothing in it for me. That's my conditions. Plus Penelope would be on me for that title. All I truly will take is knowing you're safe."

JJ waited and watched for any sign that she could be lying. That there was some second meaning to this offer....but there wasn't. Y/n was honest in what she wanted.

"Alrighty then. I'll move in with you." JJ gave in fully.

~

By then end of the day, the two had everything planned out. They spent most of their time in JJ's office discussing how move in would work and how quick they wanted to get it done.

"No! You're not gonna carry everything. I may be pregnant but I'm not that type of pregnant yet." JJ folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. They had been bickering over a lot of things. Mostly because Y/n kept offering to be so nice.

The brunette shrugged, "well what if you carry the lighter boxes then? I just..I don't want you to strain yourself. Eventually, that baby is going to grow and your back will forever hurt. I'm trying to keep you free from that ache early."

"And I appreciate it, but I'm still going to do this job aren't I? I'm going to ache no matter what. You have to let me have some lee way still." JJ held her ground.

Y/n threw her hands up into surrender. "Ok. You tell me what you still want to be able to do, and I'll try my best to not helicopter around."

There was a knock at the door. It caused both woman to sit up and glance towards the piece of wood. Finding Penelope staring at the notepads on the desk. "What's this about?" She moved quick over to the papers.

She didn't get a chance to look as they both grabbed them from view. "Our marriage contract." Y/n was quick to drop. "We're writing what we won't do, it's mostly our worst habits."

"Oh...ok well Will is here to talk to you." She informed before giving one last suspicious look. "What are you two up to?"

"Thank you Penelope," Y/n hummed before looked back to the other blonde. "This is my cue to leave. Let me know what happens..."

Y/n bowed her head before leaving. Pushing Penelope away as well. They walked back towards the bullpen, passing Will on the way. Y/n couldn't help the look she gave him. JJ held him in high praise, so to think he would walk was crazy.

JJ was still holding the notepad when Will walked in. "We need to talk about this morning. I wasn't thinking but I don't think you are either." He began. "We're too young to have a baby Jayge! We shouldn't spend all that money now. Let's just wait a few more years. Get married first maybe?"

She took a deep breath in as the tears stung her eyes. "I want this baby. And if you don't, then you won't have anything to do with this baby."

"You will have nothing without me." He spat in defense. And for a moment, he swore he was right. That she wouldn't have anywhere to go. That she needed him.

"I don't need you. And especially with that tone, I will never need you. If you don't want to be a father yet, then you can leave." She shot him down almost instantly. Eyes trained to the window.

There was silence as he stood there. He huffed and rubbed his eyes. "You can't seriously be throwing away our relationship for a baby? It's still my baby."

She shook her head, "no. This is my baby. You have now openly said you don't want any child. So once again, I don't need you. We don't need you." Her voice was vicious as she bit him. Practically hearing his defeat before moving towards the door.

"You're gonna regret this. You're gonna need me." He pointed one last time.

Y/n laughed from behind him. "The only one who needs anything is you. And you need to leave." She folded her arms over her chest as the man left the building in a fit of rage.

JJ let her head drop into her hands as she started crying. Y/n was quick to close the door and draw the blinds. Giving the two perfect privacy as she came around and hugged the blonde. Letting her cry it out.

~

A few weeks go by, and JJ had been moved in to Y/n's place. "Ya' know, I didn't think you'd have a house."

"Really? I give apartment to you or what?" Y/n carried a few boxes up to the extra room. Training days with Morgan always seems to pay off.

JJ shrugged as she just followed behind. "I guess so. Why do you have a house? It's just you no?" The extra room was big. Bigger than what JJ had taken an extra room for. "No. It's too much."

"You already unloaded all your boxes. You're staying. And plus, I like having room to have people over, or to run around naked." Y/n winked over her shoulder. "You settle in, I'm going to cook dinner."

"And she cooks?" JJ furrowed her brows. Y/n has mentioned how she couldn't cook compared to Rossi, which JJ assumed meant she couldn't cook.

But the first night was all the evidence she needed. The host made orange chicken and it was beyond any takeout the blondes ever had. Even the rice was delicious. Too distracted by the food to even notice that Y/n left more for her than herself.

~

Four months had gone by and the two moved like a couple. From JJ's perspective, this was just Y/n being helpful.

Every morning she would wake to the smell of some breakfast and coffee. Trudging out, Y/n would be dancing around with her headphones on as she plated the dish of the morning. She would be in nothing but an oversized shirt.

That's how their mornings would all start. Having breakfast together.

Then they would drive to work and act just like colleagues. Minus how Y/n would always know exactly what JJ was craving and had it right when she wanted it. There they would eat lunch in the blondes office while discussing the work drama.

Y/n would leave the office by two and head back to her own desk. Working in silence as she thought of what she would be making for dinner.

"We're heading to lunch you coming?" Emily would offer by three.

"No I already ate with JJ. We had classic pb&j's." Y/n answered, reminiscing in how good they were.

Derek scoffed with a laugh, "you tryna steal the spot of baby daddy or something? Spoiling her left and right."

"Mm, I got that spot within the second month. Baby whisperer remember?" She smiled up from her papers.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Derek flicked her forehead. He moved faster so Y/n would have to actually get up and chase him.

She did get up, sending him a mean glare. "You're lucky my senses are tingling and I bet you right now, she needs something."

That's when JJ came in, "Y/n could you come help me for a sec?"

That stumped Derek, he didn't know if she was serious about the sense or if it was perfect timing. But he left with everyone else for lunch as the two headed to the file room.

JJ needed a box of old files and it was just slightly out of reach and she wasn't in the mood to try and reach for it. Her back had been killing her all day.

The box was heavy as Y/n carried it to her office. "That back still hurting?" JJ groaned, answering the question without words. "Come here, I saw this on Facebook."

JJ came closer, standing right in front of Y/n a bit confused. With a twirl of the brunettes finger, her back now faced her front. Leaving her blind to Y/n coming up behind her and her hands coming to hold her belly. Lifting it a bit and releasing the stress and tension on her back. The feeling made her practically moan and melt into Y/n.

"This is so being added into our daily routine." She hummed. JJ had closed her eyes and let her head lull back to rest on the shoulder. "Five minutes like this ok?"

Y/n chuckled, but had agreed. The two stood in the middle of the office in silence. Y/n enjoying being helpful, and JJ enjoying the weightless feeling.

It even was mentioned during dinner prep. It's what they did, JJ would sit on the backside of the couch and look at the files she brought home, while Y/n did wonders in the kitchen.

First it starts with getting drinks out. JJ had juice while Y/n had wine. Sipping on it slowly as she prepped the Thai noodles.

"So," JJ had came over from the living room. "If I told you my back was aching again?" She was given a laugh which told her she needed to do more. It's how her head ended up on Y/n's shoulder and her arms wrapped around her.

"Ya' know the roles are supposed to be revered right? I'm supposed to hold you not the other way around? And I am cooking, if you can get through dinner I will sit behind you and hold your baby ok?"

"Deal." She placed a kiss to Y/n's cheek before slipping back to the couch. Missing the blush that arose mere seconds after her lips left.

Later, JJ had been in her room lying when she thought of how much Y/n was doing. It made her heart beat a little faster than normal. Which she assumed woke the baby as he began to kick.

It kept her up and wasn't very comfortable either. She knew Y/n said anything wouldn't be a bother, but what could Y/n do about this even if she did go over to the room. It couldn't hurt she figured, maybe there was something Y/n could do.

She crept through the dark house, realizing just how quiet of a person Y/n was. The sound only being the faint tv noises coming from the bedroom. Giving the door a soft knock, JJ pushed it open more and peeked in.

From the bed, a sleepy Y/n stared over at the door. "Jayge? What's wrong? Are you ok?" She sat up and scooted over, patting the large bed next to her.

"The baby, he's awake and kicking...you said you were a baby whisperer?" She came up to the bed, crawling into the comfortable sheets where Y/n was lying. Feeling her warmth still linger.

Y/n hummed as they both got comfortable, then she slid to rest her head against the belly. Whispering out of JJ's hearing, but within minutes, he was still again.

JJ tried to pick up on the vibrations, hoping they could give any distinction on the words but it was useless. So she just let them carry her to sleep, knowing another day of work waited her.

Meanwhile Y/n was mumbling over what honey was and how it tastes in tea. Even offering to make him some in the morning instead of the coffee. Which she also apologized for assuming he would want coffee. She also mumbled about the different breakfast choices. Eventually drifting off to sleep herself.

~

JJ woke up first that morning, finding Y/n to be practically molded around the belly and so incredibly close to her. She could feel the extra body heat and enjoyed how it felt. She also enjoyed how Y/n's bed felt.

She realized this was the first time since moving in she was up before Y/n. Even on cases Y/n was up before her.

"My senses are tingling?" Y/n groggily spoke. "He wants the tea I told him about."

JJ felt a kick at the words. Making her question if it was witchcraft or Y/n actual was a baby whisperer. "He doesn't even know what tea is?"

"Yeah he does, I told him all about it. Just like I told him about honey. He really likes the sound of it." Y/n slipped from the bed, her hand delicately caressing the exposed skin of the belly.

The action made JJ shiver and the baby kick. "What else did you tell him about?" She let her hand fall to her stomach and began to get up with the other.

"I told him about music and what's the right type of music, also about what's the best type of fashion." Y/n rambled as she led them to the kitchen. Beginning to make the tea.

JJ frowned at the new choice. "What if I don't want tea? I like my morning coffee," she complained. Knowing that no matter what, Y/n always claimed to know what was 'gonna do it' for her, and she was usually right. "What are you putting in it?"

"It's with honey, sugar, and a dash of cinnamon. You'll love it just as much as he will. I've never steered us wrong and you can bet today won't be the day." She joked from the counter, rummaging to find the kettle that was tucked away.

When she pulled it out, JJ almost laughed audibly. "There's no way you're gonna use that?"

Y/n shot a look over her shoulder, "you seriously don't trust my ways?" She kept working with the kettle. Filling it before setting it on the stove. "He can tell you it's the right way even." The baby kicked and a new smile formed on Y/n's face.

JJ was entranced by it as the brunette came over. Crouching in front of her and whispering again to her belly. And it was the blonde who was smiling even wider. Y/n was an absolute wizard with the baby. Things just seemed to get so much easier for the both of them.

The moment made her think though. Would Y/n stick around even after the baby was born? Why wouldn't she though? Nobody's ever shown this much attention to JJ, let alone her baby. She was thriving in it and she hoped she would still get this side of Y/n.

The screeching of the kettle brought her back and she just barely processed the fingertips sliding from her sides. Had Y/n been holding her hips?

"Have you thought of any names yet?" Y/n let the question slip out as she poured the steaming water. "I know it's still early, but five months."

"Honestly? No. Usually it's something you would discuss with the other person...a unanimous agreement." She sighed as the tea was brought over. Bringing her nose down close to the mug, she smelt the steaming liquid. "This smells...amazing."

Y/n smirked, "I told you I knew what I was doing. And you do realize not every baby has two parents deciding their names. This is your bundle of joy, you name him whatever you want. Just nothing with some dumb spelling."

JJ laughed lightly at that. "I know, but...I always thought I'd be having a kid with someone who I was married to. The whole traditional family." Y/n rolled her eyes. "What?"

"I just think...traditional isn't the best for you. I mean think 'bout it...you're about to become a single mother in the FBI. Life threw you a curve ball, but you're about to knock it out of the park."

"A baseball reference really?"

"Yeah not my best moment but my point is, you should get the reward of naming him what you want. He's yours till forever." Y/n reasoned, meeting the blue oceans with a soft gaze.

The conversation got lost as they just stared in silence at one another. Y/n always looked at JJ with so much care. She's shown it enough that the blonde sometimes feels guilty for how much of Y/n's attention she holds...but she'd be upset if it was on anyone else. It was wrong, especially because they weren't dating. Not that...JJ would..it had to be the hospitality getting to her.

Y/n sighed before grabbing her mug and opening the fridge. "I'm thinking French toast with some fruit? Extra sweet? Oooh and maybe some icing." She thought out loud. Humming in delight when JJ huffed at the baby kick.

The rest of the morning was natural. They ate breakfast and chatted for a bit before going upstairs to change. That's how everyday started.

But the mornings conversation trailed around JJ all day. Even her following thoughts. Suddenly everything was being questioned by her. From Y/n to bringing lunch, to her driving them home again with her hand on the clutch.

Another night, when once again, the baby was up and kicking. It also became a regular occurrence. Soon, JJ just ended up following Y/n to her room.

"Ya' know, when I offered an extra bedroom, I didn't mean mine." Y/n joked as they were getting ready to settle down for the night.

"Five months ago was so long ago though. Plus, he likes you talking him back to sleep. You truly are a baby whisperer." The blonde tried to reach the straps on her heels, groaning when she couldn't.

It was the tiny things that Y/n noticed. Once the bed creaked, she was over and kneeling to take off the shoes. Doing it before she could even realize she was.

JJ would've described it as a domestic moment. And when the thought crossed her mind, her heart thumped in her chest.

"Yeah, I'm great." She hummed in agreement. Y/n stood back up and was looking down at JJ now. Her content smile slowly fading. "I'm always gonna be here for you, you know that right?"

The words were just that. Words. Yet, JJ felt them strike her heart and shake her spine. It had to be the hormones that moved her to tears though. "You mean it?"

A hesitant hand came up to her cheek, it was warm and soothing. "I do, I don't plan on leaving your side any time soon. I promise. I pinky promise you Jayge."

Y/n pulled her hand back and held up her pinky. Expecting the woman to just connect hers, but was greeted with a tight hug as JJ cried into her shoulder. The brunette held her head close to her while the other wrapped around her back.

That was the night that they both knew their relationship was bound to change. Both cared and needed the other.

Although, the change brought tension to the breakfast table that morning. Not bad tension, just tension. Neither one could say anything or stop looking at the other.

Y/n took it as the ultimate test as well. To see if she was truly a baby whisperer without talking to JJ. Through all the staring, Y/n had managed to decide on a breakfast.

Cooking in silence, she began to get lost in her work. Humming a sweet little tune as she swayed at the stove. Continuing her tune as she played the homemade breakfast sandwiches.

Usually in the morning, the two sit across from each other, but today Y/n nodded towards the couch. Leading over and dropping her plate before going back for drinks.

They sat thigh to thigh as they ate. The only noise was JJ's hum and her 'oof' at the aggressive baby kick. He also seemed to enjoy it.

Their silence traveled with them through the day. When they got ready, Y/n knew JJ's routine flawlessly and had anything she needed at the ready. The car ride to work? Only the radio spoke as Y/n drove their normal path. Her hand itched to leave the clutch and rest on JJ's thighs.

One thing Y/n wasn't ready for, was how cute JJ actually would look pregnant. It wasn't like she wasn't cute before, JJ's always been adorable in Y/n's eyes. But this, this was the softest looking Jennifer she had ever met.

By the time they got to the parking garage, they had a few minutes to spare. So they sat in silence and stared at each other once again. Both looking like they were trying to figure out the other. Yet, they never figured anything out as they had to go in.

~

Another month had gone by. Emily grabbed her bag as she was ready to leave for the day. "I'm going home and never coming back. This week has been so shitty." She groaned.

"Sounds like you need a drink," Derek smirked. He too had his bag in hand. "I'm sure Penelope and Spencer would love to come with."

"Not even gonna invite Y/n?" Emily nodded towards the still focused agent. Not leaving room for his answer as she came towards the desk. Tapping her out of her trance. "You wanna come with?"

"I'm on baby whisperer duties. JJ has been struggling to sleep since he keeps kicking around nine. I'm the one who talks him and her to sleep." She explained her situation. Not really minding that she'd miss another night out.

Derek squinted his eyes. "One, this is why I wasn't gonna invite her. Always on baby duties. And two, you're all this talk about being a baby whisperer but we've never seen it in action. JJ hasn't even confirmed this once in her six months."

"Well then let me confirm it now. Because id be absolutely exhausted without her. She explains what such simple things are and then she knows. She knows what this baby likes and wants." The blonde came out with her bag, handing it to Y/n's expecting hand. "And these? JJ sense's? It's like having a personal telepath."

Spencer rose up now, "do you really believe in telepaths though? Especially to a baby? How can you be so sure?"

"Well I can tell you right now, that for dinner we're having honey chicken biscuits on his request." Y/n's thumb rolled to point towards JJ's belly. And on cue, he kicked.

She shook her head and smiled. "Like a personal telepath. We are heading out though, I now know what's for dinner and we're both hungry."

"Baby whisperer," Y/n whispered as she wiggled her fingers before following out the blonde.

The team watched the two leave. Sharing the same thought. "They're so in love," Penelope spoke it out loud though.

Back home, the two sat and laughed over everything from the day. They never ran out of something to talk about. And they wouldn't once the baby was born.

"So, six months. Third trimester. Three months till you'll be asked for his name....any ideas?" Y/n pried from her seat. She sat criss cross to be able to look at the blonde.

JJ sighed on the topic again. "I mean a few but none that have tugged at me and stood out. What about you? Have you been thinking?"

"Mm JJ last month would've said this is a partner discussion. Why's this month asking else wise?" Y/n dug into the words. Meaning it in such a playful manner.

JJ laughed along, trying to ignore her heart beat. "Well you've done nothing but tend to me for the past six months. So you should get some say."

There was a hum in agreement. "I've thought a little bit, and all I thought of was Dakota or Henry." Y/n truthfully answered. Knowing that the decision was going to be JJ's no matter what.

"I like the sound of Henry, actually. How'd you think of it?" The blonde stood from her spot, knowing he would begin to kick again within a few minutes.

Y/n yawned, "I didn't think of it, he picked it." She so simply stated before her hands fell to JJ's back, pushing her towards the stairs. "I'm telling you, our best conversations are after you fall asleep."

"Listen, I've been with you on the whole baby whisperer but there's no way he chose his name." JJ was drawing the line of baby whisperer now. She slowly led upstairs, not noticing how Y/n's hand never left her back.

"Ok...back in college I double majored with criminal justice. I also have a PhD in philosophy. It's my retirement plan. But, one of the many philosophers I followed for a time was Henry of Ghent. I won't get into it, but he was an interesting philosopher. Made a big impact and I think so will he." Y/n gently poked JJ's side. A fond smile on her face as she thought of the next few years.

JJ was in awe. She knew Y/n to an extent but within the few months, she's met almost ever side of Y/n. And this new found knowledge of her smarts, it almost explained her always calm manor. Did she just question everything as well?

"A philosopher? You have some tricks up your sleeve still?" The blonde hummed out her question.

"I'm a jack of all trades," she whispered. If the two weren't as close as they were, the blonde would've missed it. Like how she missed the way Y/n was looking at her.

"Well I like it. Henry. Although what about a nickname?" She raised the next question. Opening the door and stretching her arms, her shirt lifted just barely.

Y/n caught the glimpse of skin. Wanting to reach out and touch, but knowing she would cause nothing but trouble if she did.

"You could call him 'Hen' for short...add a cluck or two after." Y/n smirked to her own joke. Not being quick enough from when JJ turned around to her arm getting whacked. "Hey!"

"Don't bully my kid," she squinted her eyes. Already beginning her night routine. "You could ask him?"

Y/n laughed from the bathroom attached to the room. She walked to the doorway with a fuzzy headband on her head, pushing her hair out her face. "Thought there was a line to my abilities?"

JJ, from the dressers, threw a look of pleading over. Standing straight up, tossing the clothes to the bed, and coming right up to Y/n. Standing toe to toe with the brunette who had a few inches on her. "There is, but prove me wrong."

Y/n heard the undertone. What it was fully, she didn't know, but she heard it loudly. "Challenging me?"

"Since day one."

And it was true in some sense. JJ had expressed early on she didn't believe in the sixth and seventh senses. They just sounded crazy and unrealistic. But as the months went on, it was clear Y/n did have these senses. How far they went, was something JJ wanted to know before the nine months was up.

Y/n's hand brushing back a strand of hair brought her back from her thoughts. She watched something swim in the e/c eyes that stared back at her. She saw it but couldn't pin it.

"You truly have been," Y/n huffed before leaving their moment. Heading deeper into the bathroom and leaving JJ to talk her heart down.

That night, Y/n had fallen asleep second. Leaving JJ to be awake by herself. It's how she found out her new favorite fact of Y/n. She likes to mumble in her sleep. But she didn't get to enjoy it too long as sleep soon took over her as well.

The next morning was the start of the final crunch. Three months, if all goes to plan, until the baby would be born.

JJ had woken to tiny feet kicking her from the inside. The second thing she noted was the lack of body heat next to her.

"Rise and shine! Happy Saturday! And boy do I have a question to ask you!" Y/n came in with tea and breakfast already made. The still half asleep blonde sat up. "Henry, still discussing nicknames, did decide on cinnamon Nutella crepes with strawberries. He's having a sweet tooth today. And his tea, just how he likes it."

The blonde couldn't help but blush at the tray sat down on her lap. "And your breakfast?" She raised a brow as Y/n sat down.

She made a quick oh before running to get her plate. Clearly eager to have a discussion. But it didn't come out right away, the question. Instead their breakfast was casual conversation.

"So, what was your question?" JJ asked as she finished her plate. "Absolute delicious by the way."

Y/n smiled as she cleared the plates. Taking a brief moment to run down to the kitchen and back up. "Have you thought of the nursery yet?"

The blue eyes went wide. "Oh my god, no. I didn't even consider a baby shower yet!"

"Perfect! Penelope is on her way to help us plan. We'll have it here of course. Whatever theme, well actually...Henry chose his theme already. I've explained him over the past few weeks different themes. And he chose pumpkins. Did I sway him based on the color scheme, maybe?" Y/n laid on her side as she explained everything. Hand propping her head up.

JJ was leaning on one hand, leaning closer to the other. "And this isn't you trying to pick the theme?"

Y/n looked up to her, "you wanna ask Henry?"

"Using that name free willing. How do you know I'll pick it?" She poked now. Enjoying their morning bicker.

The brunette made a thinking face, "maybe because I am some sort of telepath and I am able to read your thoughts. But..he'll kick in agreement with me. It's how we do. We locked in. One of the same mind." She began to joke a bit more.

It did earn her a laugh, one she enjoyed hearing very much. "If that's the case, how am I supposed to move out then? He'll never want to leave you."

There was a loud, echoing beat of silence. The two stared at each other. Like the night they knew their relationship was bound to change. The thought crossed their minds at the same time and the air suddenly became thick.

They were already so close.

Y/n sat up and a warm hand cupped JJ's right cheek. "Then don't leave...stay here with me." She was delicate with her words. A hopeful glimmer in her eyes that was begging more than her tone.

JJ could feel herself get choked up. These hormones were just horrible. Tears pricked her eyes as she leaned into the touch. "You couldn't possibly mean it?"

"I do. I..I find myself enjoying every moment with you here. It feels like a home actually. And even not for me..for him. Give him a home to grow up in." Y/n sounded a bit desperate to keep her. It was selfish and she knew that but it's what she wanted.

The blonde could read it off her body. The honesty and it warmed her entire body, feeling warmer when Y/n shuffled in her knees to be right there.

"Let me take care of you both..." she whispered. Her eyes dropped to the soft looking lips. How they were just barely parted. Then they snapped back up to JJ's.

They were watering as they sat there. Hearts beating as this was it. The moment they'd been beating around. The day their relationship was changing.

"Y/n..." JJ would faintly speak. Her eyes jumping all over. The other could sense her worries and knew she shared them as well, but everything has risks. Living in worries would lead nowhere.

The brunette close the gap. Pouring loads of affection into the kiss as she felt JJ kiss back. Smiles creeping on both their faces. Pulling back, they still smiled as they just looked at the other.

Y/n felt joy from her toes to every strand of hair. It's why she grabbed JJ's faces and kissed all over her face. Kissing away the few fallen tears. "I promise to protect you for everything I am. Both of you." She said right before placing another kiss to her lips.

JJ let adoration take over her face as she held the others face in her hands. "I know you will. You have already been and I can't thank you enough."

"You can thank me in kisses from now on?" She playfully raised a solution. Letting the blonde feel the heat that radiated off her cheeks with the blush.

"You can expect them more often," JJ began to get up. Turning to face Y/n who was risen on her knees at the edge of the bed. She sent a simple wink before getting off herself. "I'm going to change first, maybe shower as well."

"Let me know if you need anything," Y/n was about to leave the room. A hand holding her wrist stopped her. Her head turned as she questioned JJ.

There was this new look to her eyes. "It's hard to wash below the belly..."

Y/n turned a bright red once realizing what was being asked. Fingertips to her lips, she was shocked. "Are you sure? We don't have to really, that's not what I was trying to imply-,"

"Will you join me or not?" JJ cut off. Knowing that rambling could go on forever if she let it.

"Yeah...yes, yeah! Obviously." Y/n breathed out. Following the blonde into the bathroom, and she was thankful for having a spacious shower.

The air was silent as the water started. Both watched the other undress. Although, Y/n stared more. Her eyes not being able to tear away from the woman. Taking in every detail she could within the moment. How her boobs overfilled the bra, her thighs were more full, her belly smooth, her hair free from any styling, and a tiny bit of sleep in her eyes still.

She came close and slowly let a hand slip onto the belly as she smiled so wide JJ felt nothing but peace. "You are beyond beautiful."

That was the first shower the two shared, and JJ was instantly a fan of it. She enjoyed how Y/n was so cautious about where her hands went. Not overstep or rushing into anything. No, instead she did everything for JJ. Spoiling her with being able to just relax.

Out the shower was even better. All that she had to do was sit there while Y/n got her everything and hum her little tune.

"You enjoy this don't you?" JJ had asked. Never once letting her eyes leave Y/n. "Anytime you really like something you're doing, you hum. When you cook without headphones, you hum. At work when you're making the tea, you hum."

"Guilty. Took you long enough to catch onto that though. I've been humming around you for years." Y/n admitted, starting to dress herself. Her fingers carefully working at the buttons of the brown flannel. Tucking a bit of it into the grey sweats. "But besides that, Penelope is almost here. You take your time, but I will have a little fruit bowl cut up and ready for you."

"Is that how you know my thoughts? You've been working on being a telepath?" She laughed a bit, only because that's exactly what she wanted in the moment.

Y/n came over and placed a kiss to her lips, "oh absolutely. Why do you think we always had your coffee stalked specifically? I pay attention."

JJ rolled her eyes and pushed the other away. "Whatever."

She flashed a smile before disappearing downstairs. Beginning to get things ready for Penelope to come splay out all her party planning supplies. Which meant rearranging the downstairs to be open enough. Putting most effort into where the three would sit and look over everything.

It wasn't easy, but she knew it was beneficial. Y/n's seen the bubbly blonde plan before at her own house. It gets crazy. This time was no different either. She showed up, did her greetings and began to splay everything out.

Too engrossed in it, she missed the kiss the two shared as JJ came downstairs finally. Wearing one of Y/n's old college sweatshirts and a pair of sweats.

They began a hushed conversation as their guest kept working on laying everything out. "How long has she been here?"

"For at least fifteen minutes. Just know, it is opinion welcomed, but just know pumpkins were indeed my idea. Henry doesn't know anything about baby showers." Y/n came clean. Earning a wack to the arm.

JJ pointed her finger, "I knew you weren't that good."

Penelope spun around abruptly. "JJ! Mama of the shower! Are you ready to dive in?" Her smile was genuine and her hands clasped together.

With a hesitant nod, JJ walked over to the spot on the floor. Entering what might've been a planning nightmare to her.

~

It was any day now. Y/n wanted to stay back on most of the cases now, but JJ urged her to go anyways.

"It wouldn't serve them any good if we're both here. I will have Penelope by my side don't worry." JJ tried to reassure her every time. It did little to help, but it was enough to get her to go.

"Promise you'll call if anything changes?" Y/n had her bag slung over her shoulder. Eyeing the labor bag that was tucked under her desk.

JJ came from behind the desk. Being even shorter since she was free of her heels. Wearing the fuzzy slippers Y/n had bought her not too long ago. "Pinky promise. Now go," she placed a kiss, "save a girl." Playfully saluting, Y/n left the office.

Yet, she didn't. When the contractions started, she assumed it to be the false ones she's experienced before. So she brushed it off.

They only started after the jet had taken off for home. It would be another three hours before the team came back. Before Y/n came back.

As she sat next to Penelope, her hand held her stomach as she tried to avoid groaning (it didn't work). The friend picked up on these tiny groans after awhile. That's how they found out JJ was in labor.

But she wasn't ready. Y/n wasn't there and she needed her for this part. "I have to call Y/n..."

"From the car," Penelope ushered her out the bat cave. They walked through the halls quickly to get to the elevators, bumping into Emily and Jordan.

Emily furrowed her brows, "what's going on?"

Penelope beamed widely, "I am not a doctor, I don't even play one on tv, but JJ is going into labor!"

Emily shared the same smile now. Her head turning to look at Agent Todd. "I hope you're ready cause your job starts right now."

The two friends kept talking but the soon to be mother could only think of Y/n. Handles fumbling with her phone just to get the contact open. Each ring making her heart pound a little harder.

"Baby?" Her voice came through the phone. "What's up?" Face contorting, JJ groaned into the phone. "I assume Penelope and Emily are with you?" A small, pained, 'mm-hmm' was given. "Just breathe, it's gonna be ok. You've prepared for this. I will be there as soon as I can I promise you."

It was true, they've ran through everything together already. But when it came time to actually push, and there was still no sight of Y/n, JJ suddenly couldn't do it. This was too scary to face alone. Where was Y/n?

"I can't..." she whispered as the doctors came in. Her eyes were quick to look at Penelope. "No. I can't....where's Y/n?" The panic began to pick up and the room sensed it.

"The jet touched down awhile ago, she should be here any second now. But you have to breathe hun," Penelope tried to calm her. Her attempts doing nothing as she shook her head. "I'll have emily call her, but you have to calm down."

JJ felt the tears sting her eyes. Nobody was going to be there to hold her. They had talked about how they would do things together but now it was only her. The tears began to fall. "I need her. I don't know how to do this alone," she began to get even more worked up.

"She needs to calm down, the stress isn't good for her or the baby." The nurse whispered to Penelope.

It was agonizing for JJ to lay there alone. It tore Y/n apart knowing that as well. She was driving as fast as she could, tempted to turn the sirens on. But every turn felt like another, turn after turn, eventually leading to the hospital.

She was frantic with trying to get in. The lady at the desk could sense it as well as she gave up the room number. Watching as Y/n full sprinted to the stairs and up them. Bursting through the third floors door and towards the delivery room.

The sounds of JJ protesting to start pushing filling the silent hall. Y/n picked up her pace and barged in. The room turning to face her, but she was only looking to the blonde in bed.

"You're here!" She almost screamed. The tears falling finally as her hands gripped the side of the bed.

The brunette came closer, standing on the side of the bed, and placing a kiss to her forehead. "I am hunny," she calmed her. Hand slipping to hold hers and taking the squeezing.

"Alright Jennifer, you're ready to start pushing." The doctor finally came in. "Oh hello, you must be Y/n. Nurses can we get her ready?" They worked quickly. Scared honestly to take her too far away from JJ.

The team that came with sat in the lobby. Waiting for any update from the woman. "Ok...but did anyone else think they would've told us they gotten together?" Penelope raised. "Because coming in and calling her 'hunny'? It was almost natural, so it's been more than a week or two."

"Y/n is so that child's father." Emily sat down with a coffee in hand. "I'm just surprised that it took living with her for JJ to realize that she would've dropped everything ages ago."

"We'll factor in the job and she wouldn't have noticed if Y/n never feared her home." Hotch pitched into the building theory now. His eyes trained to his phone however.

Spencer came in shortly after. "How is she?" He didn't rush as fast from the jet to the hospital like Hotch and Y/n did. "Y/n make it in time?"

He sounded like he knew something and Emily and Penelope shared a look. "What do you know about those two?" One would ask.

He shrugged, "they've been dating since the start of the third trimester. They told me right away." He didn't see how important that information was.

Both women had their jaws dropped as the news had been broken. The lies they've been fed in that time as well. They had broken off into their own conversation. Discussing how they could've missed it and how well their teammates hid it. Also on reasons Reid would know first.

Spencer took the seat next to Hotch. "Did she make it though?" He asked, knowing how important this was to the both of them.

"She did. And those two came back saying it should be any minute." He gestured to Emily and Penelope. Then he looked back to the genius. "Why did they tell you first?"

"They said it was because they knew I wouldn't say anything anyways. Also because I caught them in JJ's office sharing a sweet moment." He explained.

The moment he had scene was Y/n whispering to Henry to calm down, JJ had been complaining of it for hours that day. Then right as he was about to knock, Y/n placed a kiss to the belly then shared one with JJ. Both smiling before realizing he was there. It left them with no choice but to mention it to him.

After that, the lobby fell into a peaceful silence as they waited. It was unlike the delivery room. Full of JJ's screams and puffing. Y/n's hands felt broken as she sat behind and encouraged her through everything.

But, she would admit, her broken bones were worth every second. Even as she brushed through JJ's hair as she finally could rest, she could only think of their future together now.

Pressing a soft kiss to her sweaty hairline. "You're amazing." She whispered into the others ear. "You're gonna be an amazing mom."

The blonde hummed in acknowledgement. Her hand slowly intertwining with Y/n's. "Thank you for everything." She felt the shift from behind her and groaned with confusion.

"You should get some rest. There's four agents who want to meet Henry." She explained her disappearing, placing another kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back in a few to sit by your side."

~

A few weeks had passed and it was a guessing game on who would come back first. Neither of the two had really mentioned anything to anyone.

"I'm placing bets it's JJ first. If it was love-sick Y/n, she would've mentioned her return in the group chat." Derek placed his money down. A twenty sat on Emily's desk, waiting for hers to accompany it.

"I place bet it's Y/n first," Rossi laid his while walking past. It surprised the two that he wanted in on it.

Emily had to think of a third out come suddenly. "I bet one of them resigns." She threw out the crazy possibility. Knowing she was loosing twenty in the end no matter what. Even the two men looked at her in question. Her only answer was a shrug and a lost 'I dunno'.

Meanwhile, JJ was up and getting ready for her return to work. Her heels clacking against the smooth wood into the kitchen. Smiling at the sight of Y/n dancing around Henry as she cooked for them.

"You teaching him some moves?" The blonde laughed as she found her cup of coffee. She moved to place a kiss to her baby's head. "Good morning, handsome boy."

Y/n beamed happily, "he already has them. I think it's from all the dancing we did. Good morning hun," the brunette spun around the island to give a morning kiss. "Are you ready for your return?"

JJ's smiled dropped slowly as she stared at Y/n. She was still in her pajamas and hardly ready for a day. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? No one is asking you to do this as much as I appreciate it."

Y/n lightly laughed, they'd been through this so many time within the last few weeks. "If I didn't want to leave, I wouldn't. But I know you love that job with everything in you and someone has to be here for Henry. And...maybe it's time I use my backup plan? The FBI was a good money plan that's given me a lot of skills, but I'm ready for a casual life."

The blonde searched for any sign there was a lie. That Y/n did want to come back with her. That it should be Y/n going back today and not her. But this is what she was choosing and there was no changing her mind.

So, she nodded and let the conversation go. "What do you have planned today?" Was the new topic.

Y/n plated the breakfast for the two of them, and the bottle for Henry. "Well, me and Henry are going to go out grocery shopping later. Then I'll come back and clean a little while he's down for a nap. But that's if I stick with the plan."

JJ hummed, "you truly are a blessing Y/n. The BAU will miss you." Her arms lazily wrapped around the others neck. "I'll miss you the most at work."

"Just gives you a good reason to come home at the end of everything. Two good reasons actually." She had a tiny smirk on her lips. "And because I can hear your worries, we'll be fine. I was an agent myself, I know how to kick ass. Oh but we should get a dog!"

The blonde shook her head at the sudden switch. Knowing these mornings would be her favorite moments. "I can't even tell you no, it's your house." She moved back to where her coffee mug sat.

Y/n playfully scoffed, "as if this is just my house." She came around from her spot and hugged JJ from behind. Placing a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck, then her ear.

The woman hummed in satisfaction. "You're right, it's a home. We just live in it." She joked. Remembering the first time that they realized it was their home.

"It's our home, baby." Y/n placed one more kiss to her head before slipping away again.

JJ knew this was when she would go change finally and get ready. It gave her time to sit with Henry and think of the luck she's been given. "She's right ya' know. It's our home." She spoke to the baby who just smiled to her. The blonde couldn't help the smile that came from her either. "You're gonna be in such good hands. We both are, we have been...we have someone who is our protector." The baby laughed

"Mm, I'll protect you till my final breath. Both of you." The other came back. She was in an old college sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings. Crew socks running up past her ankles.

She walked in closer to the two, placing a kiss to both their heads. Swearing in secrecy to literally put her life on the line for these two. That she was willing to give up her own life because of the love that swarmed her body every time they were near. Even when they weren't near, she still felt the connection flow so easily.

She sat in the stool right near the table. "You'll say hi to everyone for me right? Also before you tell them ask about the bet they probably have, I put money Rossi wins." Her smile was goofy but she knew the joke eased some nerves.

The blonde hummed softly, "you'll call if you need anything?" She stood and moved closer. Her hand coming to hold Y/n's face.

Her empty mug being taken into the others hands. "I promise to call. You promise not to worry too much?"

JJ chuckled before pressing a kiss to her hairline, "I'll try my best." She made work at getting ready to leave, tying her coat up by the front door.

Her hand grasped at the handle and before she could step forward, arms were around her holding her tightly. And then the realization hit in a little more. Y/n wasn't coming back to work with her. There would be a new open spot and there wouldn't be her on cases anymore. Honestly, a part of JJ felt like the other had this planned and it worked out in both their favors. So she turned and held her close and tight.

Both were suppressing the tears now. Yet, when they pulled away the brunette was smiling widely with glassy eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I just couldn't help it. Get home safe for me ok? I know I said I'd protect you, but I need you to stay alive to be protected, yeah?" JJ inhaled sharply and nodded her head. Words were only going to make her break and cry. "Ok," a kiss placed to her cheek. "Go. Get to work. Call me if you need anything, I love you. Get home safe. And ask about the bet."

The words of love almost were missed, but JJ caught them. They pushed the tears over and soon she was crying heavily while holding onto her girlfriend. Not caring if she was late before her first day back.

~

"Well look who's back first!" Derek wore his cocky grin as he walked to the small pile of twenties. Hand grabbing them and flaunting them around.

JJ shook her head, "she wanted me to ask about that. What was everyone's guess?"

Emily after rolling her eyes at the bald man sighed. "Derek said you'd come back first, Rossi said the other, and I said someone would resign."

She weighed everyone's chances of winning. "Well let me tell you, that one of you is right and it's not the man with the money." She tilted towards Derek who was still bragging. It really only left one answer and Emily shouted when she realized it.

"No!" Her eyes were wide and jaw was dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" Her hands were thrown up into the air.

Penelope had just came in with the newspaper. "Oh Emily's dropping f-bombs before ten! What's the news?" She hurried over to the other two, eager to hear the new drama.

"I won the bet! And I'm not happy about it either!" She groaned before going up to Derek. Ripping the sixty dollars out his hand. "I'm not pleased to do this."

"Wait...but your bet.." her eyes jumped to JJ who was nodding at the unasked question. "She resigned?!"

The realization caused a heavy silence. Everyone focusing on the open desk. All her decorations were still on it but soon they wouldn't be. Everything felt surreal as they all knew Emily's side of the bet was truly a joke, but now that it was true they didn't think it funny anymore. The entire day was filled with quietness and sorrow filled glances to the vacant desk.

Towards the end, after going serial killer free, JJ's phone rang as she came into the bullpen. "Agent Jareau."

"Ooh so formal. Now I know you don't check your caller id." Her voice came through the phone. The smile she wore was evident. "Are you on your way home?"

"Yeah, everyone's finishing up right now. I should be back in like thirty minutes? Why? What's up?" The blonde slowed her pace and stood still in the moment. A flash of worry hitting her as soon as she finished asking.

JJ could hear the smile from through the phone. "You should invite everyone over for family dinner. Mostly because I may have cooked more than needed and need people to eat it all."

The blonde laughed lightly and looked over to her colleagues. "Right, well then you can expect everyone in twenty. I'll see you at home," she agreed and caught the attention of the group.

"Love you," was the last thing said before the line went dead.

JJ sighed as they waited expectingly for the invite. Almost like they knew what was being asked. "You've been invited to dinner by the chef. She expects your attendance."

They all cheered and were quick to pack everything up. Trailing slightly behind JJ who left five minutes before them.

It gave her enough time to make it home and catch a breather before they showed up. And when she walked through the front door, the delicious smell of fried chicken floated through the house.

"Babe?" She called into the house, being louder than the music that played. She moved further in, not surprised by the sight she saw.

Y/n danced around Henry in his high chair as she plated all the food. It looked like a feast with how much she actually made. Once she noticed JJ, her feet did their own dance over to her. Rising on her tiptoes to place a passionate kiss to her lips. "And the woman of the house is home!" She cheered, getting Henry to laugh and clap along. She pulled JJ towards the kitchen, letting her take in the smell up close. "I had an inkling you were feeling steak today."

The blonde side eyed her for a moment. "I thought the JJ senses only worked with the baby in me?"

"No they work because I love you, always have been loving you, always will be loving you." She gave her another kiss and slipped away to get wine glasses ready.

"Really? And when did you know you loved me?" JJ asked as she left to drop her bag in the study. Letting her hair free from the slick back ponytail and shaking out her hair.

Y/n looked into the air, like she was searching for the right memory. "The day Hotch sent me a photo of us on the jet. I never showed you or mentioned it because I didn't know how you were going to feel if I did." She confessed while grabbing more glasses.

JJ furrowed her brows before heading up to change and settle in. Only taking a few minutes as she only did change and let her hair loose of its ponytail. When she came down a glass was ready at the bottom of the stairs with her girlfriend smiling softly up at her.

"What was the photo of?" She had came back to the question of a few moments ago. Taking the glass and really kissing those lips she's missed seeing smile around every corner. "Hello, baby."

The delicate way the words were delivered made Y/n grow a shy smile and a heavy blush as telling the truth now seemed impossible. And even as she did try to look away and avoid it, JJ had her jaw and forced her eyes up. A curiosity swarming in her eyes that was darker than usual.

There was a giggle before she seriously stared up, schooling her features. "The first case you started to come to me about talking Henry to sleep, we were on the plane and...maybe the man who never sleeps saw us all snuggled up on the couch. The next day he brought me in and had asked about us and I mean basically what I'm saying is Hotch has been knowing before we even were official."

JJ's jaw dropped as the other sprinted from her grasp and back into the kitchen. Being saved by the doorbell that was left for the blonde to answer. As she walked closer, she called over the music. "You're so dead when they leave." And with that she opened the door. Inviting in their loving work family who were all ready for a feast.

~

"So you decided to leave, why?" Derek asked while leaning back. His right hand slung over the couch around Garcia, while his left pointed with his beer that he brought close to him shortly after.

She followed his moves and leaned back in the chair as well, her own drink being set on the small table off to the side. "Well, I know- we know how much she loves her job. I don't think she would be ready to say good bye like that so easily. Plus my body's beginning to age...I can't kick ass forever."

Reid furrowed his brows, "you're only 26? How can your body already be aging where you can't fight crime?"

She shrugged anyways, "it just did. I have a kid now, and a baby." She beamed widely while the room lightly laughed.

The stairs creaked, "you just call me childish?" JJ had an arched brow as she went to grab her wine glass and come over to the living room. She passed the chair and an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her down and carefully into another's lap.

"No, I'm calling you my baby." Y/n smiled even wider somehow. Body tingling with affection and warmth that consumed JJ.

"So what are you doing now?" Rossi raised the next question. "You seem to have a backup plan already, so out with it kid."

"I'm guest teaching at the college for philosophy. Along with a few guest lectures for the academy. It's just something slight to keep and extra flow." She had explained it so easily. The team wasn't oblivious to the softness in her voice as she spoke of her next career. It was like she was relieved from everything bad in the world. "I'll mostly just be around to be with Henry otherwise."

"And mama bear how does this make you feel?" Penelope furrowed her brows, curious on how the blonde was handling it so well. Unlike her who was going to fight it anyways.

JJ shrugged lightly and looked down to the other, "it's sad knowing I won't have someone tending to my needs like her. Otherwise, it's comforting knowing someone will always be able to protect Henry."

"Yeah, but think of the homage meals you'll come home to now. Kid knows how to cook, makes me wonder why I'm the only one giving lessons?" Rossi raises a brow. "Seriously, why the holding out? We could've been sharing recipes."

The chef laughed, "because my cooking was nothing compared to yours when I started. I learned in silence so I could do this one day." It was earnest of her. Their family sat in her living room enjoying the time they had of just peace. Glasses full of drinks as they chatted about freely. Sharing stories and laughter that chased away the reality of their jobs. "To the day I could cook for my family."

Penelope gushed as she began to fan her face. "Sugar you're too sweet!" She laughed and a few joined her. Derek had pulled her closer in a hug.

"We'll miss you," Hotch had mentioned. He raised his glass towards where she sat. Everyone joined in as well. A silent toast given in her regards.

"Yeah, yeah, enough sappiness people! I'm not dying or anything, I'm always around still. You'll know where to find me and I'll always have something cooked." She nodded with a wide smile. "My rule is though, you can't bring work talk in here. Home is a sacred place."

"It's gonna cost ya..." Emily shrugged while looking for an offer to balance it out. Even if it Y/n's house, she was going to try and get something knowing how much they talked about work.

She rolled her eyes once more, "I literally said I'd always have a meal cooked for you! Was that not enough?"

"You have to send leftovers with JJ since we won't be here every single night." Derek pointed, Emily snapped and agreed instantly.

"Yea..yea leftovers get sent out way." Emily repeated it and it made the room laugh at the antics.

Their conversations continued on until glasses began to empty and everyone began to head home. Exchanging hugs as they went. And eventually it was just the two back on the couch leaning against the other.

"I love you, you know that right?" Y/n had hummed before sipping on her drink, they had decided one more to end the night.

"I wouldn't have ever doubted it." JJ nuzzled her nose against the others neck, placing a soft kiss to her pulse point. "And I love you."

The vibrations from Y/n's hum tickled against her lips. But when she pulled away her smile had slightly faltered at the sudden appearance of the black box. "What's that?" She whispered.

"A gift, a promise." Was all she was given. With a shaky hand she opened the lid, revealing the citrine ring that was surrounded by a few diamonds. It was eye capturing but just enough to not be too much. "It's citrine."

"Henry's birthstone."

"When the time is right, I plan to get you another ring. I promise I'll get you another ring because I promise to never leave you. I know we've had this conversation, but I want you to know and have evidence I mean it. I love you beyond my words. I love Henry beyond my words. I want you both in my life till forever runs out." She simply spoke. Her hands reaching for the ring and slipping it onto JJ's slender fingers. There she kissed the rock on her hand. "I promise my all to you Jennifer Jareau."

[itadorey]

𝐒𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: becoming a jujutsu sorcerer was never part of your plans, and neither was falling in love with gojo satoru. genre: angst, not-quite-lovers to exes notes/warnings: spoilers for hidden inventory, introspection, mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, arguments, there's some moral dilemmas but like no more than usual, reader throws up bc of news they receive (non graphic, literally just says "emptied your stomach".) wc: ~4.6k song inspo ♫: so young by portugal. the man

You never planned on becoming a jujutsu sorcerer.

Being a jujutsu sorcerer was something your parents had trained you for, but you always seemed to be more enamored by the thought of living a safe, normal life. In fact, the thought of attending the Tokyo Jujutsu High had never crossed your mind until the day your family sat you down and begged you to consider spending the next four years of your life there. You had reluctantly met with the school's administration, and your family was enthusiastic to find out you had been accepted immediately.

You weren’t as excited. 

Truthfully, you shouldn't have been surprised that you were accepted. You had a powerful cursed technique that guaranteed your spot as a Grade 1 sorcerer as soon as you enrolled into Jujutsu Tech, but the thought of going through with the training made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

As soon as you arrived at Jujutsu Tech, you had immediately asked your teacher, Yaga Masamichi, to meet and discuss your standing. It was in the teacher’s lounge that you came clean to him about not wanting to be a part of the class before politely asking them if there was a behind-the-scenes role you could fill, getting nothing but a surprised look in return. He had stayed silent for a few seconds before pouring you a cup of tea and motioning for you to take a seat on one of the couches.

Yaga wasted no time before he began to explain to you why you had been placed accepted in the first place. In addition to your cursed technique, you hailed from a small, yet respectable family of sorcerers. You would be a great asset to your classmates and the jujutsu world as a whole, especially because you seemed to think rationally even in the heat of danger. You couldn't deny that Yaga's words had given you a sense of purpose.

But no matter what they said, you still couldn’t help but long for a sense of normalcy. 

Yaga was able to sense your unchanging feelings and after a few minutes of contemplation, he made a deal with you. If you agreed to stay and hone your skills for at least a year and still decided you wanted to leave after that, he would let you do so with no complaints. After a few minutes of contemplation on your end, you agreed. 

Falling in love with the boy you sat next to had never been part of the plan, but then again, you supposed that your plan had been thrown out the moment you submitted your application to Jujutsu Tech.

Gojo Satoru was an annoyance to many of his classmates, but not to you. No one knew how, but over the course of a few months, the two of you had managed to break down each other’s walls and become closer than anyone expected. In your presence, Gojo seemed to appear more good-natured, his teasing remarks toned down as he slung an arm around your shoulders. In return, he managed to bring you out of your shell, helping you form solid friendships with Geto and Shoko.

Perhaps it was because the two of you truly understood each other; just two students who were thrust into the jujutsu world, forced to become sorcerers due to the power that flowed through your veins. Or maybe it was because your seemingly apathetic nature helped you get along well with the loud boy. Whatever it was, it made Yaga happy. As long as you remained close with Gojo, he knew that the chances of you dropping out or simply disappearing were slim.

Of course, there were still times when you regretted accepting Yaga’s proposal. Too many bad things had happened over the course of a few months for you to truly appreciate the fact that you were training in order to be able to help people. The incident that had caused your apprehension to grow the most had been one where you had been sent on a solo mission, assigned to take care of a grade 1 curse that had been residing in an abandoned apartment building.

The curse had been mislabeled, and you had found yourself fighting for your life against a special grade. In a moment of panic and desperation, your cursed energy had flared up more than usual, causing devastation to both the curse and the neighborhood surrounding you. It was only then that Gojo and Geto had burst in, having been sent by Yaga as back-up just in case. The curse had been disposed of by then, and Geto had barely managed to approach you just in time to catch your unconscious body.

The image of you, limp in Geto's arms, had remained seared in everyone's minds for months.

It was after that incident that the higher-ups had started to take closer note of you, and you found yourself retreating from your friends in an attempt to make yourself seem unimportant. You spent more time with the underclassmen, hiding away with Nanami and Haibara and listening to their stories about their classes and missions. You found Haibara's energy endearing, and it was always entertaining to watch him interact with the more stoic Nanami. It was only when Gojo started showing up outside your bedroom door that you finally returned to classes, his never-ending stream of questions about your cursed technique and abilities annoying you until you could no longer stand to be in the same room as him.

It was hard to ignore the way your eyes lit up at the sight of Gojo, regardless of how annoyed your expression seemed. It was also hard to ignore the way that Gojo would sneak glances at you over his glasses, breathless laughter leaving his lips whenever you pushed him out of your way. Geto and Shoko would always exchange knowing glances when you'd hang out all together, the two of them often going ignored as Gojo poked and prodded at your cheeks in an attempt to get your attention.

Yaga had also taken it upon himself to start assigning you missions once again. What had originally been a team of made up of you and Geto eventually grew to include Gojo, simply because he followed Yaga around and complained about how bored he was without you around. Geto had given you a look you had chosen to ignore when the two of you overheard Gojo say that.

The three of you turned out to be a dream team, especially once you had spent more time training with your cursed technique instead of ignoring it. The cursed energy you had displayed against the special grade curse was something that had always been at your disposal to use, you had just never concerned yourself with learning about it.

Everything seemed to be working out for you once in your life, especially with Gojo by your side to help motivate your growth.

But it all changed when the three of you met Amanai Riko.

At first, the mission had been a piece of cake.

Amanai Riko wasn't difficult to locate, and the people that were after her hadn't been hard to deal with either. It had been an easy mission, especially considering that the three of you were some of the best that the jujutsu world had to offer.

You had grown to quite like Riko, and your time with her in Okinawa had only helped you come to terms with your role as a sorcerer to a greater extent. For once, you felt like you belonged. You had a clearer purpose, and you were determined to succeed in every aspect of your life if it meant getting to keep living such a rewarding life.

And then Fushiguro Toji struck.

All you remember is seeing Riko get killed right in front of your eyes, your distress and panic immediately being pushed down in favor of facing the new threat. You barely processed the conversation between Geto and Toji, only catching bits and pieces but feeling your heart drop and stomach twist when he declared that Gojo Satoru was dead.

After that, everything was a blur. You remember fighting alongside Geto, the two of you in sync as you tried your best to survive. You could remember choking on your fear, the situation much more severe than facing that special grade curse a couple of months ago. You remember closing your eyes for a brief moment, your lips moving as you said a silent goodbye to Shoko, Haibara, Nanami, and Yaga. You remember watching Geto get struck down, leaving you alone to face Fushiguro Toji.

There was a determined glint in his eyes when he stared at you, and you did your best to push down the bile crawling its way up your throat as you studied him. It was a tense fight, and you had managed to land a solid hit on Toji, catching him by surprise. You used that moment to your advantage, but no matter how hard you tried, you were overwhelmed by his physical strength as he flung you out across the courtyard.

It was then, with him towering over you and ready to deal the final blow as you looked up at him in defiance, that Gojo Satoru reappeared.

There was something different about him as he looked at you, his eyes a little more focused than usual as he turned to face Toji. You had only caught bits and pieces of what he was saying, and you had scrambled to Geto's side in an attempt to reassure yourself that everything would be okay. By the time you had regained your composure and looked behind you, Fushiguro Toji was no more and Gojo was ambling towards you.

That was when you truly realized just how much power Gojo Satoru truly held.

His eyes had been wide and bright, hands trembling with leftover adrenaline from his fight as he knelt down beside you to cup your face in his hands. You could feel the warm blood on his fingers streaking your face as he scanned you from head to toe, his face breaking out into a grin when he realized you were relatively unharmed.

"You and I," he had said, leaning forwards to press his forehead against yours. His stare was intense, and you found yourself shutting your eyes in an attempt to avoid it. "We're gonna live forever. I swear it."

His words rang in your head even as he pulled away, a weak groan from Geto drawing Gojo's attention away from you. You were on autopilot from that moment on, repeating the incident in your head up until you were back at Jujutsu Tech being treated by Shoko.

You fell into a slump after that, wanting nothing more than to leave Jujutsu Tech behind until you bumped into Geto one evening. All it took was one glance at him to realize that he understood you better than anyone, and the two of you spent many a late night sitting in the dark with a cup of tea in hand. There was never much talking done during these times, and occasionally you would find yourself sitting close to him, hands intertwined as the two of you sought out some comfort.

Gojo continued to grow at an incredible rate, and no matter how much you wanted to be by his side and support him, you couldn't forget about the day that Riko died.

So while Gojo flourished, you and Geto withered. You rarely showed up to class, sitting alone in the corner when you did. Gojo joined you whenever he wasn't off on a mission, which meant you spent a lot more time without him than you'd like. You also grew paranoid, refusing to go on missions and spending all your free time either training in hand-to-hand combat or laying in bed. The rest of your time was spent with Geto, and you found yourself admitting to him that you had never wanted to become a sorcerer in the first place but had been asked to stay by Yaga.

You had hit him when he had absentmindedly commented that you had also stayed for Gojo.

Whenever Gojo wasn't on a mission, it was almost certain the two of you would be together, your heart aching as he tried his best to be there for you despite your dull demeanor. You would often find sweets hidden in your sweaters and bag, and you would occasionally get to your room to find a basket of your favorite snacks waiting outside your door. He understood that you needed space, but seeing you so lifeless, with dark circles carved underneath your eyes, just made his concern grow even more. The thing that eventually pushed him to finally confront you was Shoko's incessant nagging.

And Geto's betrayal.

The news came as a mild shock to you.

Geto, the person who had quickly become your closest friend and the only person in the world who truly understood you, had become a curse-user.

It was silent for a minute after Yaga told you the news, and within an instant, you found yourself sprinting to the nearest bathroom before emptying the contents of your stomach. You shut your eyes tightly as you leaned your head against the wall, trying to ignore everything that was happening.

First, Haibara had been killed due to a mission going wrong, leaving Nanami as the only first year at Jujutsu Tech. Now, Geto had gone rogue and left without telling anyone. You felt another wave of nausea wash over you and leaned back over the toilet, flinching when you felt a warm hand rubbing your back. You turned your head to see Gojo kneeling next to you.

Sobs overtook you and you let him cradle you against his chest, feeling his fingers weaving through your hair as he held you close. You remember being silent as you eventually unwound yourself from him, walking over to the sink and brushing your teeth before letting him guide you towards his room. He followed you like a shadow, silent but close as he tried to hide his concerned expression. He took a seat on his bed, leaning back on his palms before glancing at you and patting the spot next to him.

You sat down next to him, closing your eyes as he reached for your trembling hand. It was awful how something so gentle could remind you of Geto, and you found yourself pulling your hand to your chest as you tried to control your breathing.

"I never thought this would happen," Gojo muttered quietly, watching you closely as he let his hand rest next to your thigh. You shook your head as you opened your eyes, giving him a distressed look before kicking off your shoes and bringing your legs up.

"I did," you replied hoarsely, sniffling as Gojo gave you a bewildered look.

"What?"

"We had this conversation after everything that happened with... Fushiguro and Riko," you admitted. The names were whispered, and Gojo found himself realizing just how big of an effect the incident had truly had on you and Geto. "He spoke with Yuki as well."

"Tsukumo? The other special grade?" Gojo asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You nodded in response.

"There was this hypothetical scenario," you began, pausing to collect your thoughts. Gojo couldn't help but notice the way you tensed, and his fingers twitched with the urge to pull you close. "We spoke about how non-sorcerers release cursed energy at a higher rate than everyone else, and how that contributes to the essentially all the problems we have to face as sorcerers. I didn't know where I was going with that theory. Education, maybe, spreading knowledge about cursed energy in an attempt to contain it. But after Geto's conversation with Yuki, he mentioned getting rid of non-sorcerers as the best option in the long run."

You avoided Gojo's gaze, blinking rapidly as you tried to keep your train of thought. You felt Gojo's fingers brush tentatively against yours once more, and you resisted the urge to take his hand in yours.

"The notion was so ridiculous that we never entertained it," you whispered, freezing slightly before continuing. "Or at least, I didn't."

There was a heavy pause as you finally looked up, meeting Gojo's stare with one of your own. He blinked slowly, trying to read all the emotions in your eyes as they flitted past one by one.

"I knew, Gojo," you whispered, your eyes haunted as you reached over to tug at his sleeve. Your actions were frantic, rushed in an attempt to make him try to fully understand you. He gave you a questioning look, and you pressed yourself a bit closer to him as you grabbed a hold of his shoulders. "I knew that Geto wasn't doing well. Hell, neither of us were, but he was coping even worse than I was and I didn't do shit but sit with him and hold his hand and occasionally listen to him vent. I could've done more. I could've stopped him."

"This isn't your fault," Gojo said firmly, reaching up to grab your arms. He pulled them upwards, settling them behind his neck before letting his hands trail down to your waist to pull you closer. You end up half in his lap, face tucked into the crook of his neck as he pressed you into him. He could feel your breath against his neck, and he held you more tightly as he reminded himself that you were still here with him.

"Yes it is," you mumbled, drawing your arms back to your sides. You made no effort to move away from him. "If I wasn't so caught up in my own fucking wallowing, I would've been able to catch it."

Gojo sighed softly before tucking his fingers under your chin, angling your head up to make you look at him. You felt your heart jump up into your throat, and you swallowed harshly as you reminded yourself that this wasn't the time nor the place for you to be getting all moony-eyed over your friend.

"Your feelings are valid too," he said softly, leaning forward to place his forehead against yours. His eyes remain bright and you find yourself reminded of that horrible day and the words he had spoken to you back then: "You and I, we're gonna live forever." You closed your eyes before ducking down to tuck your head against his collarbone, the thumping of his heart calming you down.

"The two of you were dealing with things I can't even begin to imagine," Gojo continues, unaware of the way you tensed up in his arms. His words just helped to remind you of just how much fundamentally better Gojo was at being a jujutsu sorcerer. "I wish you would've come to me."

There was a moment of silence during which you tried to control your racing thoughts. You thought back to Fushiguro Toji, to Haibara, to Riko, to the special grade curse you had fought way back when, and even to the deal you had made about a year ago with Yaga. Life hadn’t been fair, especially not to someone as young as you were. Gojo looked down at you when you finally went limp, and he found himself studying you worriedly before opening his mouth to speak.

"I'm leaving."

Your whisper sounded a lot louder than it was in the silence of your small room. Gojo's hands tightened around you as he processed your words, and you refused to look at him no matter how hard he tried to catch your eye. "What?"

"Look, I never even wanted to be a sorcerer in the first place," you admitted, taking note of Gojo's confused expression out of the corner of your eye. He didn't respond, and you took the opportunity to elaborate further. "I only enrolled because my parents were afraid of letting my cursed technique go to waste, and I only stayed because I struck a deal with Yaga."

"What was the deal?" Gojo asked uncertainly, his heart feeling a lot heavier than it had mere minutes ago.

"That'd I'd train for a year. And that if I still wanted to leave after, I'd be allowed to. No questions asked."

"No," Gojo stated, squaring his jaw as he took a deep breath. "No, no, you can't leave. You have to stay."

There was desperation hidden in his words, his fingers tensing against your skin as he looked at you imploringly.

"No, I don't," you said, your tone equally as firm as his. There was no hesitance or reluctance hidden in your words, and Gojo felt his stomach twist as he choked on his breath. "I don't want to be here anymore. I didn't even want to be here to begin with, Gojo! My life here has been nothing but pain and grief and utter despair and it's only gotten worse! I'm speaking with Yaga first thing tomorrow morning and transferring out."

"You can't," Gojo responded immediately, his words strangled and heavy with desperation. "You can't leave me, or Shoko. There's so much more left to do, are you really going to give up? It's just you and me and—"

"And what?" you snarled, eyes narrowing as you finally met his gaze head on. "We're gonna have a happy life? Grow up, Satoru. Riko's dead, Haibara's dead, Nanami is falling apart, and Geto is gone. There is nothing here for me anymore and honestly, sometimes I wish Fushiguro Toji had just finished it all before you arrived. You think you're the strongest and maybe you are, but you can't save everyone. We can't save everyone, clearly."

You paused briefly, a bitter laugh leaving your lips as you took in Gojo's wide-eyed stare. "The jujutsu world is a joke. And I want no part of it."

"You can't leave," he repeated, taking one last shaky breath.

"Yes. I can."

"You can't leave me," Gojo breathed, his eyes uncharacteristically soft. "I know you're in love with me."

"Well, you're wrong," you said quietly, your words getting caught in your throat as you took a deep, rattling breath. “I didn’t come to Jujutsu Tech to find friends, much less a lover.”

"I'm in love with you too," he declared in a loud voice, leaving no room for skepticism. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, and you found yourself conflicted as you finally heard the words you had wished to hear since the moment you had met Gojo Satoru.

"Frankly, I don't care," you said after a moment of silence, pushing yourself away from him and crawling out of his lap. You took a couple of steps away from him, looking out your window in an attempt to avoid looking at him.

"You're lying," Gojo said confidently, standing up and getting closer to you. You jerked away from him, gasping when you felt his hand reach out and pull you toward him. He wasted no time before reaching up to cup your face, causing you to breathe in sharply as you screwed your eyes shut, all the fight leaving your body as you leaned into him. "I'm going to be by your side no matter what. It's you and I."

"We're gonna live forever?" you asked softly, receiving a nod from him in return.

"Exactly," he said, grinning widely as he studied your face. There was a moment of hesitation before he looked down, fingers tensing against your face. "Can I kiss you?"

There was silence as you opened your eyes to stare at him, hesitance in your eyes as you studied him for a few seconds before giving him a weak nod. He wasted no time before leaning in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. It ended with a soft laugh from you, dissipating into sniffles as tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," Gojo mumbled, wiping your tears away as they fell. "Everything will be fine, I promise. You have me, and Shoko, and Nanami, and we're going to be okay. We'll get through everything together, okay?"

There was another soft nod from you, and Gojo finally let go of your face to intertwine his hand with yours. Within seconds he was pulling you down into his bed alongside him, pulling the covers over the both of you before reaching out to tuck you under his chin. His fingers ran soothingly over your spine, the tension in your body dissipating as your breathing evened out. It was when you were on the verge of passing out that he spoke once more, his voice soft and tender as stroked your hair.

"I'll never leave your side, I swear it."

You closed your eyes.

The early morning sun woke Gojo up, bright rays of light shining directly into his eyes.

He shuffled uncomfortably, realizing that the two of you had fallen asleep in your school uniforms the previous day. He reached out with a groan, eyes shooting open when he realized that he was alone in his bed. He sat up, leaning on his elbows as he glanced around, seeing no sign that you had even been in his room in the first place.

The first pair of shoes he was able to locate were his slippers, and he found himself wandering through the halls of the school as he made his way to your room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Yaga standing outside your door, hand rubbing the bridge of his nose as he turned away.

"Satoru," Yaga greeted, turning to face Gojo when he heard his footsteps. "Good morning. What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for—"

His words died down as he looked behind Yaga, being met with an empty room. There was no trace of you having ever been there, and if he hadn't known better, he would've thought that it had always been empty. Gojo swallowed harshly, his throat unnaturally dry as he looked back at Yaga.

"Where is—"

"Gone," Yaga interrupted, shaking his head and scoffing lightly. "They left this morning. I trust you knew about our deal?"

Gojo nodded.

"They said it was time for me to hold up my end of the bargain."

He waved vaguely at your room, stepping aside to give Gojo more space. A loud sigh brought Gojo's attention to Yaga, and he raised an eyebrow as his teacher looked up at the ceiling. "I'm going to go finish their transfer paperwork."

He left Gojo with a nod, hesitating slightly before lowering his head and walking away. It was silent as Gojo walked into your room, eyes taking in the empty walls and naked bed. He perched on the edge of it, his fingers running over the bare mattress as he tried to control his breathing.

"Gojo?"

A quiet call of his name had him looking up to see Shoko, and he found himself holding back tears as she shuffled closer. She was holding out her arm, a white envelope clasped in her hand as she reached out towards him.

"They uh, they left this for you before they, y'know."

Gojo took the envelope from Shoko with trembling hands, his fingers running over the seam of it before he crumpled it in his fist, his emotions getting the best of him as Shoko gave him a concerned look.

You had given Shoko the envelope before leaving. You had seen and said goodbye to Shoko before leaving.

"You know, they really—"

"Don't."

Gojo's voice was hoarse as he interrupted Shoko, and he briefly shut his eyes as he felt them burn with unshed tears.

It was only then, with Shoko giving him a sympathetic stare, that he realized that although he promised to never leave your side, all he had received from you was silence.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

[hoshiina]

pairing: narumi gen x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he's always thought that anyone would do if he just wanted to find love but he realizes you're the one he wishes for, inspired by pop song by yonezu kenshi

warnings: some profanities from narumi

wc: 1300

Narumi Gen hated a lot of things, but one of his least favourites of all time was "true love". He despised when people would describe their love for another as "true love". It couldn't possibly be that serious. Just say you loved your partner. That was probably the extent feelings got to anyways— you just so happened to like each other at the same time. To him that was plenty of a feat alone, why would you have to make it sound like more than it is? For the sake of love? Ridiculous.

To him, that was truly all love was. If there was someone who liked him when he happened to like them too, that was enough. No need for years of pining, no need to get attached to some unrequited love. All that noise about love and destiny surely wasn't all that necessary.

Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't wish to find love— because he did. Like any other person, he truly wished to be loved. It was just that what he had in mind wasn't some deep pure love that'd last forever, nor was it a promise for eternity. He just wished for a light-hearted "I love you" here and there with someone he found special.

And for that, anyone would do. He'd find someone who fancied him along the way, and hopefully he'd like them back. That was all there was to it.

This meant his plan for finding his partner was sitting around and waiting. As horribly lame as that sounded, because he was Narumi Gen, this wasn't that hopeless of a plan. So, that's what he did. He'd go around saving people and doing his duties (to the absolute bare minimum) while making sure he was constantly trending, hoping that one day, someone would like him.

Today he was standing around for a solid five extra minutes after he defeated the honju with ease, hoping the media would snap some nice pictures of him, or he'd finally charm someone this time.

"Captain, you ought to stop that," you said. "It's rather embarrassing, you look desperate now."

"Oh, would you shut up," he said. "You're ruining my good name!"

You snorted. "What good name," you scoffed.

"I'm starting to think its your fault I'm not charming anyone. Perhaps if you didn't stop me every time, someone would have found me by now," he said.

"Yeah, right. Captain Ashiro seems to be having no issues charming people and I've never seen her try to," you said.

"You little shit," he said.

"Besides they're going to be utterly disappointed if they think this is what you're like and then they find out what you're… actually like," you said, and he was starting to think you wanted him to fire you. "It's okay. Someone will see how you're actually lovely at times soon."

"What?" he asked, shocked by what you said.

"What?" you replied, confused.

"You— you said lovely," he said quietly. Suddenly he felt flustered.

"Oh," you said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. It wasn't like you didn't mean to say that, but you didn't think it was that big of a deal. Rather, how flustered he sounded took you by surprise. “Well, you’re a little lame but you’re a good guy. Like you pretend you only do it for the media, but I know you’re always checking the alleyways that don’t have as much surveillance just in case, and checking alleyways isn’t something a captain has to do. And we both know the media isn’t writing about anything you do there. Things like that.”

“You never know!” he said, and you snorted.

“Alright then,” you said. “You do you, Captain.”

“I will!” he said back, trying to sound proud.

A week had passed and here he was, doing what he always did after arriving fashionably late to the scene and taking all the kaiju out in a matter of minutes: standing around trying to look good. Because he wanted love, and anyone would do. Anyone who liked him was supposed to do.

...

And yet he wished for you.

He wished that when he woke up, the first thing he would see was you. He wished that you'd smile at him everyday with love and genuine joy the way you did to others, and he wished that you’d smile that way to him alone. He wished that after a long day, he was the one you came home to. He wished from the bottom of his heart that you would always be safe and no harm would ever come your way. He wished that your days were filled with laughter and smiles and he knew he would risk his life to protect that.

It was so unlike him in a way he absolutely hated. True love was supposed to be nonsense and someone being ‘the one’ was supposed to be some dramatic line in a movie. It upset him, that he was so utterly fond of you. Yet, no matter how much it upset him, it didn't change the fact that he was, and he couldn't deny it anymore after trying to ignore it for the full week.

So here he was, acting stupid again, hoping that you’d scold him again or tell him he’s embarrassing himself, because that’s what it’s come down to. He just wanted another reason to talk to you.

But you wouldn’t come to stop him after 10 whole minutes.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asked, irritated.

“Pardon?” you asked, utterly confused.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop?” he asked again. He was aware how silly he sounded, but he was pissed off that you meant so much to him so he had to take it out on you.

“Because you told me to stop last time??” you replied. “I thought you were going to keep this up until you found yourself a partner.”

“You’re the one who told me to find someone that saw how I was…. lovely…. at times,” he said, but said the lovely very quietly. Remembering that you had described him as lovely made his cheeks burn and he’d rather die than let you see that.

“I mean, yeah. I do think you should,” you said.

“Don’t you notice, though?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of silence.

“I do,” you said, and immediately he looked up to face you. You had a grin on your face and you looked so proud— you looked like you had won a game. Oh, how he hated you.

“You’re so annoying,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Rich coming from you,” you said.

“So, do you—,” he started to yell before cutting himself off. Carefully, he tried again. “Would you please… uh… be mine…?”

Oh, this is so embarrassing, he thought. Perhaps you’d laugh at him, but he wanted to do this properly, or at the very least try to. He’d be far more than just stupid to mess this up now. He was finally in love.

But your laughter never came. When he looked up your eyes were wide and you looked so flustered, but soon you had the most beautiful smile on your face.

“I would absolutely love to,” you said.

So he kissed you right then and there, because there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment.

He laughed a little.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“No, nothing,” he said.

There was no way just anyone would do— it had to be you.