#seriously about to blow my brains out though

[futuristictheoristcowboy]

I wish I could enjoy the shows I like with my parents but I think they're still homophobic and are preparing for Armageddon. Dam Great blasted plan. yk what I'm saying? aha

[0mg-bird]

hii! i lovedd 'lover's rock' sososo much and would absolutely love if you'd write more about that reader & spencer's relationship! maybe the way it develops or their dynamic when they are like 100% official? anything'll do but the way you wrote reader is so unbelievably me i was absolutely eating it upp!!! i love you & your writing!

Hiiiii!!! Thank u sm !!! Lover’s Rock got so much love, here’s a part two!

My Spencer Reid requests are open!

Everybody Loves Somebody ~ S. Reid

Part II of Lover’s Rock

Spencer!Reid x Fem!Twee!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, brief smut, reader gets wine drunk with BAU women. Reid being dirty, reader being dirty. Idiots in love, omg so cute, season 6/ 7 Reid is soooooo boyfriend. Morgan thinks Reid’s gone crazy. Um yeah okay enjoy

86% of Americans believe in true love, but only 67% of them say they’ve experienced it. That’s a statistic Spencer told you once.

How lucky you are to be apart of that 67%.

How lucky you are that you didn’t settle, that you waited painfully long for it to feel right, because it feels so right.

Ever since that everything but casual hookup, it was like a stone that was always supposed to be in motion, finally started rolling. Spencer took you to dinner, a nice Italian hole in the wall because you mentioned a love of pasta, then he started to call at the end of the day just to talk, and a second date became of that. It’s like he blinked and all of a sudden you two were spending all of his free time together, watching movies, his hand in yours as you dragged him to record stores.

He seriously thinks that in the moments you’re half dressed in his bed, rambling on and on about something you think is important enough to talk about until you practically pass out, that it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up alone come daybreak.

It never happens though, he wakes and you’re curled into his ribcage like that’s where you belong.

You do, he determines.

So three months of this honeymoon dance, the words ‘I love you’ come out unexpectedly in one of Spencer’s ramblings as the breeze blows in, feeling awfully like the winter that’s coming soon. You were bundled up beside him, hand in his like it always is as he tells you about work and how Morgan is always after him about the ‘scandalous love affair’ he’s having with ‘bar room girl’. Aka you.

“They ask so many questions, it’s unbelievable the lack of privacy I have. You know what he told me?” He had asked, which you answered with “What did he tell you, handsome?” before he continued.

“He seriously asked me if I was keeping my options open just in case you turned out to be crazy, clearly he had to be joking because there are no other options. Not that I would want another option! I wouldn’t, you’re the option I’ll stick with- no not an option just, well, you’re you and I love you so I don’t really care if you turn out crazy. I’d see the signs by now anyway.”

You stopped your stride, looking up at him with wide eyes and a wide grin.

“What?” You question.

“Well I’ve been with you long enough to learn your habits and if you were crazy then-”

“No.” You stop him. “You love me?”

He faces you, realizing he had just said it. But even if he wanted to try and back track, he couldn’t, he’s smiling too wide.

“Yeah, I do. I love you.”

“Good. I love you too.” You say, watching your words click in his brain and immediately his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning over you as you laugh against his lips. Spencer doesn’t do PDA, or so he thought until he learned that it’s sometimes the only way you’ll understand his feelings and how he can’t put them into words.

You adore the sporadic behavior, getting kissed on sidewalks and trains and movie theater seats and anywhere else he thinks you’re far too beautiful in.

That’s what life has been like for six months together, madly and truly and deeply in love, deeply intimate in every word and touch and action. He goes to work and you’re the thought in the back of his mind as he crakes cases, you teach students and find yourself smiling at any free moment you have to think of when you’re going to see him next.

Now, the team has noticed the shift in their beloved Dr Reid, how he didn’t go out with them like he used to, how he spent a lot more time texting, how he’d casually mention you, but Spencer was a selfish man who wanted you to be something of only his. He shared his whole life with his team and even if they were his family, he took pride in knowing he had an escape they didn’t, which was you.

If the world got too much, you were there with your quirky outfits and strawberry lipstick to stain his cheek. You were his fix. Screw drugs, he had your laugh engraved in his head and that was far better than a needle.

That being said, there were times he was feigning, going through withdrawal all over again when he was gone for too long.

Like now. When he’s been everywhere but where you are for a week and three days just because he had back to back conferences and then fell right into a case.

He was tired and drained and felt a migraine coming on, painfully antisocial as he leaned back in the seat in the jet. Momentarily, he takes a second to breathe, then immediately digs his phone from his pocket and messages you.

He knows that you’re probably just getting home from the school day, that you’re probably sitting down at your desk to grade papers or work out lesson plans. He’s learned your routine in and out, it might be a little stalker-ish if he really thinks about it, so many cases has he worked where the unsub knows where a girl is at 4:30pm.

He’s no unsub, he just loves you enough to know everything about you.

Morgan, nosy like always, notices the way Spencer softly smiles at his phone.

“What are you grinning at, lover boy?” He asks, watching the way Spencer’s expression quickly shifts.

“Nothing.” He states, putting his phone away.

Morgan smirks. “Oh don’t be coy with me, we all know you’re dying to get home to that girl of yours.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, he opens his mouth to deny but the words don’t come. So he gives into it instead.

“So what if I am?” He questions, making Morgan- and Emily who is now paying attention- laugh.

“Aw, Reid, you’re all twitter-patted.” The dark haired agent says in a sweet tone.

Spencer presses his lips together and looks away.

“He’s not even trying to deny it.” Morgan tries to jab.

Only Spencer just shrugs. “Why would I try to deny it? I’m in love with her.”

The two widen their eyes.

“That’s a big word to use.” Emily hums.

“It’s a big feeling to have.” Spencer states. “You know, I’m used to feeling like I’m slowly going crazy everyday but ever since I met her, I don’t really feel it as intensely. It’s all the chemicals released in my brain I think, the dopamine and oxytocin over powers anxiety. Maybe it’s a placebo effect or something but I’ve never felt better than I do with her, so in short words, she’s cured me.”

For a moment, the two are at a loss for words, staring at their friend. It’s no negative thoughts they have, because they are overjoyed that their nerdy, awkward sidekick has finally found a match.

“I’m happy for you, Reid.” Emily smiles. “Sounds like she’s a good fit.”

Spencer, who could never speak ill about you, nods. “She’s probably the only one out there for me so yeah, she’s a good fit.”

“And you have me to thank for having her.” Morgan smirks. “Without me, you wouldn’t have approached her at the bar, you would’ve sat with your nose in that book and died alone.”

“Wow. Very encouraging.” Spencer says dryly.

“I want to meet her. I’m sure the whole team does.” Emily says, changing the subject.

“What’s that?” JJ adds in.

“Reid’s gonna introduce us to the girl who makes him leave the office at a decent hour.” Emily states before he can protest.

You aren’t going to like this idea, but the team is all talking about it like it’s the biggest news ever. He’d get you to settle and agree somehow, just so Morgan will finally see why he is so infatuated with you.

Besides, Rossi is already planning a night at his mansion for the team just so Spencer can bring you along.

- - - -

You completely lose track of the time as you continue to prepare dinner in his apartment, adding homemade sauce to pasta, cutting up seasoned chicken.

That’s probably why you don’t realize Spencer is home until he’s shutting and locking the door behind him.

He smiles in surprise as he sees you, dancing around his kitchen, hair clipped up in a messy updo, knee socks sliding around the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks, causing you to startle and flip around to face him.

Immediately, you’re joyous.

“Spence! Hi!” You rush to him.

He’s never been greeted so warmly until you, and now he can’t have anything different.

His arms encircle your waist as you clumsily throw your arms around his neck. The first words out of your mouth are ones he had never heard that often before you.

“I missed you.” You say, hugging him tight.

He pressed his nose to your hair, soothed by your citrusy shampoo. “I missed you too. I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant?”

You pull back only enough to see his face, your hand in his hair. It’s shorter than when you met, but it’s a good look for him.

“I know but I got impatient and figured I could surprise you with dinner. Is that okay? I suppose I could have asked. I used the key you gave me, I figured that the key meant I could stop in but I really should have asked, huh? Sorry, you know I get ahead of myself. Is this a violation of privacy-”

His lips find your rambling ones, immediately shushing you. It’s a warm welcoming feeling, something the both of you have missed terribly. You sink a little more into him, eyes shut in bliss as you slowly mold your lips with his, savoring it, deepening it.

“You being here is perfect, I gave you that key for to use. Thank you for using it.” He says closely as he pulls back, leaning his forehead to yours.

You sigh with a smile. “I really missed you.”

“I really missed you too.”

There’s a very peaceful silence for a moment, filled with your hands on his chest and your lips trailing over his face.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He asks before you press into him again, a little deeper now.

You hum in question against his lips.

“Where are your pants?” He asks, all muttered.

He really wasn’t complaining if you decided a new fashion trend was wandering his apartment in knee socks and funky patterned boy-short underwear.

“Red wine tragedy.” You state, pushing his coat off. “The cork wouldn’t budge, I put a little elbow grease into it but the thing toppled over when it popped and it was like a crime scene. Red stain everywhere.”

He tosses the coat to the arm chair. “That answers my next question as to why you’re wearing my Lacoste shirt.”

“My clothes are in the bathroom sink, had to scrub them down, though I think they can’t be salvaged.” You frown, turning back to the dinner, reaching for your wine glass.

Spencer just stares, watching how domestic it all is. You in his clothes, making dinner.

“Are you tired? Hungry?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hungry, yes. Tired, not yet. Are you staying the night?” He asks, coming behind you, kissing the top of your head as he leans to pick at ingredients and snack on them.

“Oh…do you want me to?” You question, trying to be coy like you don’t already know the answer.

“Of course I want you to.” He responds, making you chew your lip.

“Good, because my bag is already in your bedroom so it would’ve been really awkward if you said no.”

Spencer laughs, squeezing your hip in affection before he goes to clean up and get out of his work clothes. He takes a quick shower, warm water rushing over him, but he doesn’t want to be away from you for too long.

He comes out in sweatpants and a graphic shirt you’ve finally returned back to him.

The two of you sit and eat dinner and you listen to every single word he has to say before you explain your day and everything you didn’t cover in the nightly phone calls he made to you while away. It’s sometime after cleaning up, after the two of you washed dishes while bumping hips, that Spencer notices the trickle of things that have made their way amongst his belongings. Some have come over time, like a collection of cd’s, books, scarves you constantly forget to grab on your way out. Some things are new, like the makeup products in the medicine cabinet, your favorite snacks in the fridge.

“Did you move in while I was gone?” He laughs, coming to sit beside you on his couch.

Your legs immediately are tugged into his lap, his hand rubbing your calves.

“What? No.” You state, taking your hair down. “I just came by to collect your mail and put it on the coffee table …and to water your plants.”

Spencer cocks his head, looking at you in question. “I don’t have any plants, lovely.”

He watches your smile grow. “I got you some plants.” You say with a giggle.

That explains the golden pathos on the television stand and the small fiddle leaf fig by the window.

He thinks it’s charming, endearing. He noses your hair line, drawing you closer to him. “I no longer live alone, it seems.” He hums.

“Does that bother you?” You question, leaning your head into the space between his collar and jaw. The perfect you size space.

Spencer is quiet for a moment, then he shakes his head and speaks something into existence that he probably should have taken more than a second to think over.

“No, it doesn’t. Actually, I think I want you to move in. Permanently.”

Why should he have to think about it? It’s you, he wants you around 24/7. You could be his home, you could greet him like this always, your perfume could linger around like a friendly ghost.

“Is that a joke? I know you have an odd sense of humor.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

Spencer smiles gently, fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “No joke. I want you to be here with me all the time, I’m selfish like that.”

“You aren’t selfish.” You scoff playfully, but your expression quickly turns into one of concern. “But-but are you sure? I’m probably not a good roommate, I can be messy and I sleep weird hours. And I leave wet towels on the floor a lot, and sometimes forget to put the toothpaste away.”

Spencer shakes his head. “That’s fine, I’ll pick up the towels and put the toothpaste away.”

You continue to fuss. “But what about all of my things? I have a lot of stuff, you’d have to move things around and you’d get sick of all my shoes in your closet.”

“I don’t have much in my closet as it is, I’m fine with sharing. I’ll get another bookcase for your books.”

“But-”

He cradles your face in his hands. “But I love you and I’d be happy to trip over your heels forever. Now, do you want to move in or not? You can say no.”

You don’t want to say no.

“Your apartment is bigger than mine…and your shower has better water pressure.” You slowly say, cheeks still squished slightly between his palms.

Spencer begins to break out in a grin, but he lets you finish.

“And I could get to work faster…and I like the thought of never having to go back to my apartment for clean clothes.” Then you pause and look back up to his eye. “It would be nice to share something with you besides my entire heart and body and soul.”

How dare you say something so loving and honest, and just sit there like you were always meant to say these sort of words to him. Spencer is going to be love sick his entire life, he has no back bone, he is not a man but your man and this is all he has ever wanted. He starts to nod with starry eyes, slowly bringing his face closer to yours. “So?” He presses.

“So yes, I want to move in!” You say in a gleeful tone, throwing your arms around his neck as you rush a kiss to him.

You can’t help the cheerful laugh that leaves you, it makes it hard to kiss when Spencer is doing the same thing, completely at your will as you nudge him to shift and lay down on the cushions, you falling on top of him.

This is usually how it goes.

Someone makes a small move and then both of you get carried away. Neither of you ever seem to mind. You could spend an hour kissing and doing nothing else, but you haven’t felt the heat of him in ten days and nights, so you’re hungry for the breath in his lungs and the electricity in his fingers.

Spencer’s hands start to wander as you sit on his hips, kissing him slow and deep. They smooth up your thighs, over your underwear and up your back. Your mind is always as good as blank whenever those hands are on you.

“I’m never leaving again.” He declares, trying to work on the buttons of his shirt that you wear.

You sit up to help him. “That’s not possible.”

“I’ll find a way to make it happen, I only ever want to be here.”

You push the fabric off, leaving you in your lacy bra that he thinks is almost too pretty to take off.

Almost.

“Right here? On your couch?” You question sarcastically, fingers in his hair as he sits up to taste the skin of your neck.

“Yes, on my couch, about to show you how much I missed you.” He clarifies.

It’s blissful and exciting, how he ends up between your thighs, giving you relentless pleasure with no indication that he’s ready for you to return the favor. He’d stay like this all night if you wanted, tongue on nerves, fingers drawing out pretty noises from your blushed lips. It’s because it’s as good as breathing, having you reacting the way you do, tasting you in the most intimate way.

“Spence, baby.” You whine, legs threatening to shut.

He’s working you up, pushing you closer to the edge, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. Your hand tightens in his hair, holding him close as you plead for your finish. There’s no need to beg, Spencer would give this to you all day long.

When you do get to that point, it’s throwing you into another existence momentarily. A rather desperate moan frees from your throat, your head digging into the arm of the couch. It makes you feel warm and shaky. You have to blink harshly for your vision to clear.

“I- mmm.” You hum as he comes up to kiss you, it’s sinful the way you taste yourself on his tongue. “I think you’re the most perfect person in the history of persons.”

Spencer chuckles. “I’d correct your grammar but I don’t think your minds working at full speed right now.”

It’s true, everything is slow and fuzzy, yet you still find the urge to ask for more.

“We don’t have to.” He says, wanting to make sure you don’t feel obligated.

You never do, your drive just happens to be something he marvels at. In all actuality, he’s learned that he can match your pace, so it’s always fine. The two of you could spend nights on end falling into each other, either softly or with a hunger.

Tonight is probably one of those nights.

That’s how it seems when he has you in the bedroom after taking you on the sofa.

It’s your shared apartment now, he could probably have you on every available surface. But he has you in his sheets, teeth dragging across his skin, bare and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Sex is never just sex with Spencer, even when it feels like it. Like when he comes straight to your apartment after a bad day and you offer yourself as a cure. It’s never just using each other, it’s all feeling and praise and making sure the other is reassured and happy. It’s nerves on fire and constantly stroking those deep, hidden parts of heavy pleasure inside each other that have never been brought to life. There’s borders pushed, you just let it happen because there is no way you’d ever want to say no and deny yourself the feeling of what he does to you. He has you arching with an empty head thrown back against the pillow as your tongue goes lame and you can no longer properly tell him how amazing it feels. Spencer has an idea, given the way you shudder and make the most criminal and attractive sounds he’s going to be replaying in his mind forever.

You learn a lot about care in the moments following bliss. Spencer could be compared to an animal of prey, the way he comforts without question, wipes tears from your face and does anything you ask of him.

“Hey.” He calls softly, leaning up on his side, watching you with your messy hair sprawled on the pillow. “You still with me, angel?”

You hum, head feeling heavy as you turn it to face him. You’re there…most of you is.

You suck on your bottom lip like you always tend to do, not needing words as you nod.

His hand reaches for your cheek, thumb brushing the flushed skin. “Overwhelmed?” He asks in an intimate tone, one he only uses with you.

You curl yourself closer to him. “A lot of feelings…I feel a lot.” You jumble, brows furrowed as you try to get power back to your limbs.

He hums, understanding, adjusting to hold you. “It’s the endorphins.” He speaks. “You have a high release of them during sex, then it all comes crashing down post orgasm. Your body’s trying to regulate your dopamine, because you got a thousand milligram shot of it basically, and now the high is coming to an end.”

You love it when he proves just how smart he is. It’s also insanely hilarious if you think about it, because he was just leaving bruises on your thighs as he pushed deep inside of you over and over, and now he’s explaining the science behind everything he made happen for you. To say the least, you were insanely in love with how much of a nerd he is.

“I feel good though. Not sad or anything…just sensitive.” You breathe out, somehow your voice trembles and squeaks, nudging closer to his skin like you need it pressed to yours or you won’t live.

“What do you need?” He asks in concern, tightening his arms around you like a weighted blanket.

You could cry. You won’t, but you could at the way he’s so caring and gentle. In what life do you do good enough in order to deserve him?

This one.

Shifting to see him face to face, your hand rests on his jaw, your thumb brushing the stubble there, and then traces to his upper lip. You like when he doesn’t shave, it makes him look more mature.

“I just need you.” You tell him, continuing your slow rubbing motions. It’s all you can say because you’re not sure he’ll understand that you have the urge to be wrapped in his skin and bones entirely, like you could just absorb into him and be your happiest.

Spencer knew in all of those years of awkward strike outs and getting ignored, that when the day came when he’d have a you to tell him sweet things and caress gently, he’d have to recognize the feeling. He’d have to be aware that this was a gift and to not be blind to the fact in front of him. The fact being that he has someone to love who loves him back just the same, and now he has to use that fact in every choice moving forward.

‘Honeymoon’ months have come and gone and though the two of you did argue once in a blue moon, things were great and were going to stay great.

He thinks a lot about this as he stares at his book page, leaned back in a chair next to the sill of the tub you reside in. Warm water relaxes you, scented bath soap makes your skin smell fresh.

You’re watching your painted toes pop up from the water, perfectly content with his hand twisting a strand of your hair around his fingers.

“I like my bedsheets…they’re soft and broke in.” You say promptly.

“I’ll take my sheets off the bed, you can put yours on.” He tells you.

You turn the hot water dial on and off with your foot quickly. “You’ll let me put my stockings in your sock and underwear drawer?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t laugh at me when I come to bed in nightgowns because I spent way too much money at a 1960’s lingerie store?”

“Did you really do that?” He asks, looking down at you, taking better notice of your hair as he does.

You must have given yourself a trim again, your bang part isn’t straight. You’re always changing your hair on the whim and it’s never perfect, but it always looks great on you.

“I was really bored while you were gone.” You exclaim. “The girls and I went shopping and I somehow ended up with lace teddy’s in four different colors.”

“Which colors?”

“Yellow, pink, blue and purple.”

“I like purple.” He nods.

You smile, then turn over to gaze up at him, arms resting on the edge of the tub. “I love you.”

He looks away from the inked words on the page and to you, resting your cocked head on your folded arms. “I love you too.” He says, leaning down and kissing your temple.

Then he drops the bomb.

“Oh, we’re going over to Rossi’s and you have to meet the team.”

“Now!?” You panic.

“No, no, angel.” He laughs.

- - - -

“My hair.” You fuss.

“You’re beautiful.” Spencer reminds, leading you to the escalator after you get off the metro.

You’ve made every excuse in the book not to go tonight, you’ve worried yourself sick about absolutely nothing.

“Is Rossi really rich?” You ask, wrapping your arm around him as he crowds your space on the moving stairs, hand on your waist, not minding one bit at how you shrink into him as he faces forward.

“Extremely rich, actually. Sometimes I think I should write a book or two and live his lifestyle.” He tries to joke, but you merely groan.

“I should’ve worn different boots, nicer ones.” You sat into his sweater vest.

“Why didn’t you?” He asks.

“These are my nicest boots!” You protest, and Spencer just laughs because he knew that’s exactly what you’d say.

He likes that fact, that he knows you well enough to predict the words from your perfect mouth.

His hand rubs your hip, feeling the thick material of your coat. “Your shoes aren’t going to make them love you, honey, they’re going to love you because you’re you.”

A frown pouts at your red stained lips despite the way you swoon over his sweet words. Spencer is always good at stringing together terms of endearment to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Yes, I’m me, and people tend to not like me for obvious reasons.”

He doesn’t like those words coming from your mouth.

“I like you.” He chimes.

“Yes but you’re weird.”

“That’s no way to speak to your boyfriend who just put together a brand new bookcase for your things.”

You smile now, still clinging to him as the two of you head up to the night street. You’ll get a cab and you’ll be unsteady all the way to Rossi’s mansion of a home.

“I’m scared.” You squeeze his hand, staring at the iron door knocker.

Spencer squeezes back. “They pick on me, but they won’t pick on you. Besides, if you want to impress Rossi, just say a few things in Italian and tell him about your year abroad.”

“Vuoi fare sesso con me?”

His brows draw. “What’s that mean?”

You bite your smile. “Something I really can’t say to your boss.”

He rolls his eyes and knocks on the door.

This is the end. They’ll hate you, you’re sure of it and then Spencer will break up with you because his team will tell him he should ditch you and-

“Reid! You’re finally here!” An older man opens the door, dark hair slicked back, maintained facial hair, gold chain. He quickly ushers the two of you inside.

When his attention is turned to you, he is warm and inviting, introducing himself as David, calling you Italian terms of endearment, leading you to his living room after taking your coat.

The team- more like a family- is all talking amongst themselves with drinks in hand and laughing.

You’re thrown into the mix and come to realize you made it all up in your head.

The wine helps.

While the others are still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Spencer Reid who doesn’t shake hands is showing signs of PDA, the girls who have been plotting for some time are pulling you away from him.

Spencer watches your eyes widen and he opens his mouth to suggest that maybe it’s not the best idea but Morgan sits him back down.

That’s how you end up in the guest bathroom with a bottle of wine and three women who ask you question and question. And as the four of you get tipsier and tipsier, all nerve is lost.

“We moved in together.” You say after handing the bottle to Penelope.

The three exclaim in surprise.

“He never tells us anything.” JJ frowns, possibly the most lightweight of them all.

Emily, who you learn gets more buzzed off of energy than anything, snickers a bit. “Sorry, I just got the image in my head of Reid sleeping in a twin size bed next to yours.”

The rest of you join her laughter.

“We share a bed.” You state, wondering why you thought these women were going to be monsters.

“Aw does he wear his pajamas and night cap too?” Penelope giggles. “Oh! Oh! Does he snore?”

She proceeds to imitate a very fake yet cute way of snoring.

“No, no. You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. He-he’s very normal, no striped pajamas, no oil lamp-”

“Ha! Oil lamp, that’s a good one.” JJ snorts.

“-just normal night routines, normal sex life, normal-ish sleep schedule.”

The three pause and you don’t even realize what you’ve given them.

“Normal sex life?” Emily questions, leaving you to drink from the bottle in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said normal sex life.” Penelope presses.

“Oh…yeah.” Your cheeks go red.

The three cringe.

“Oh, ew.”

“Yeah, there’s no way Reid has a sex life and I don’t.”

“I’m never gonna get this image out of my head.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Spencer is getting a similar interview.

“You love her?” Rossi asks with a proud smile.

“I do.” Spencer nods.

“She’s going to be moving in next.” Hotch jokes, fully being satire.

“No, she’s already done that. I’m going to marry her next.”

The men freeze and their eyes widen.

Their Spencer Reid, the young genius with a funny haircut who was just 24, is sitting here now talking about marriage.

“You’re too young for that, kid.” Rossi states, the others seeming to agree.

Only Spencer has thought of this for countless nights. Sure, he isn’t going to marry you tomorrow but he is going to marry you.

“I’m thirty, that’s a very average time for a man to marry. Besides, why would I push it off? I’m not waiting to be sure if she’s the one, I already know that.” He says like it’s so simple.

There’s no reasoning with him because he already has his reasons. The men realize this and accept it, because who were they to try and damper his mood? Everybody loves somebody, and Spencer finally fits that description.

- - - -

Crash

“I broke your plant.” You frown, stumbling over your feet, clinging onto Spencer as he pulls you through the apartment.

“That’s alright, it was more your plant than mine.” He reassures, trying to get you to the bathroom.

He knew he shouldn’t have left you with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia for that long. Now all three of you were wine drunk. He’s just grateful he only has to take care of you. Emily passed out on Rossi’s couch, Morgan was trying to wrangle Penelope when the two of you left.

“Your friends are nice.” You slur, hair in your face as he flicks on the bathroom light and sits you on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, real nice.” He huffs, pulling your hair up into a bun before going to grab your toothbrush.

“You’re mad?” You frown, mouth opening as he starts to brush your teeth for you.

Spencer looks down at you, one hand holding your chin while the other works the brush back and forth. “No, angel, never at you.” He reassures.

Once that task was tackled and he helps remove your makeup, he supports you all the way to the bedroom where he sits you in the bed and crouches to unzip your boots and pull them off.

Your eyes squeeze shut in hopes to get rid of the blur, and you yelp as he tugs your stockings down too roughly on accident. As your head hits the mattress, you erupt in a fit of giggles. Spencer can only apologize with a smile and kiss your knee.

“You’re taking my clothes off.” You state the obvious.

“Yes, I am.” He says, sitting you up after he pulls off your skirt to pull your sweater over your head.

“Careful now, I’m a married woman.” You joke, pulling at his sweater vest.

“Oh, are you?” He questions, pushing your hands away. The action draws a childish whine to escape you.

“No, sadly I’m not. I’m a spinster.” You sigh.

“That’s not what that means, lovely.” Spencer laughs.

“Doesn’t matter! Take off your clothes.” You whine and pull at the sweater again.

“Hey, I’m trying to get you ready for bed.” He dodges your advances once more, though it’s hard when you’re begging for a kiss.

Spencer kisses your nose and then goes to the dresser to retrieve a t shirt to slide on you when you’re just down to your underwear.

“I want a real kiss.” You frown, refusing to get in bed until you get it.

Spencer leans to softly peck your lips, once, twice, three times.

“Get in bed, I’ll get you some water.” He says, pulling back and motioning to the pillows.

With an audible humph, you do your best to crawl to your spot and slide into the sheets that came from your old apartment.

Spencer returns quickly with a glass of water, sets it on your bedside table and proceeds to get changed himself, well aware of your gaze.

“Spencer?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“You should make me your wife, I’d be a good one.”

He looks over at you, mostly covered in darkness accept for the light coming in from the window. You look so peaceful, watching him with love, saying the most perfect things.

“I know you would, pretty girl.” He smiles.

You’re satisfied with that answer.

Patting the empty space, you beckon him to your side, wanting to be tangled together. Spencer comes to his side of the mattress, the side closest to the door, and slips under the covers and helps you adjust into him.

Mostly incoherent, you speak. “We could get married, I could change my last name to Reid and we’d be the smartest couple around, you and me.”

Spencer hums, lying on his back as you nuzzle into his chest. “That sounds pretty nice.”

“I won’t ever ask for a divorce either, I wouldn’t even spend all your money.”

“Is that what you think wives do?”

You shrug. “That’s what my dad says about my mom.”

Kissing your head, he beckons you to go to sleep and you could continue this conversation another time.

“…Take your clothes off.” You say, shut eyes and mischievous smile.

“No, go to sleep.”

[princesitangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ after swearing up and down that you can’t make a sale, jim lets you answer his phone to give it a try. his elaborate plan to prove himself right goes south as soon as the man on the other line buys a heaping amount of paper in exchange for your phone number..

warnings: flirty banter, teasing, fluff, mild humor, slight tension (?), jim being a little jealous (a lot, actually), close proximity

a/n: first jim prompt :,) feel free to send in req’s!

wc: 1.1k

“..but why? why do you think it’s impossible for me to sell paper?” jim was leaning over the counter of the receptionist desk, both of your faces not far from one another’s. “because you answer the phone like this!” he taunted your high pitched ‘customer service’ voice, your cheeks heating as you giggled quietly. “i do not sound like that!” jim smiled when you accidentally snorted, your eyes widening in embarrassment. phyllis looked over at you two, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “there’s a reason you didn’t get the sales position, ditzy.”

you gasped, slapping his arm playfully. “that’s a low blow, halpert!” shaking your head, you opened up the spreadsheet michael had forwarded to you, “and by the way, my insane typing skills got me this position. i get to sit and look pretty all day..” jim nodded, eyes flittering down to the soft curve of your lips. “yeah, that you do.” his voice dropped down a few octaves, the sound paired up with his words made butterflies flutter in your tummy. the girls were so going to be hearing about this later.

you met his eyes for a brief moment, both of you clearing your throats awkwardly at the sudden energy shift. “seriously though, how hard could it be?” just as you asked him, his phone began ringing. “wanna find out?” you were up on your feet, basically buzzing with excitement as you followed jim over to his desk. the last thing jim expected you to do was bend over the hardwood his phone was rested on, his distressed glare finding the cameraman. dwight was eyeing you with pinched eyebrows, wondering what the hell you two were up to now.

for his own sake, jim didn’t dare glance down at your backside in that tight pencil skirt of yours, instead he took his seat, pushing himself all the way in under his desk before motioning for you to answer the damned thing. flashing an innocent smile at dwight, he rolled his eyes as you put the receiver to your ear. “jim halpert speaking!” jim closed his eyes, holding in a laugh as he muted the call. “you have to say your name, not mine..” the realization dawned on you, a little ‘oh, that’s right!’ leaving your lips before he unmuted you.

chirping your name into the phone, the man on the other side of the line sounded confused as he carried on. “hello, is this dunder mifflin? the paper company.” you hummed, drawing a few stares from oscar and stanley. “hi there, my name is jonathan and i was tasked with choosing the best paper for my office, and i came across this number. if you don’t mind, i just had a few questions.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “of course, i’d be happy to provide you with answers!” jim leaned in, listening closely to the call.

“why should i choose dunder mifflin as my business’s official paper supplier?” it was a simple question, but it still had you wracking your brain for what you should say. “uhm.. well! here at dunder mifflin, we have the best sales representatives always just one phone call away! we will keep your office and/or work space stocked with only the highest quality of paper, card stock, and many more! all at an amazing price as well, and you didn’t hear this from me.. but if you buy in bulk, you get major steals.” jim was flabbergasted. maybe he should be a receptionist instead. this was your desk now.

“wow! that sounds amazing. you really checked all of my boxes.” he laughed, a hint of flirting evident in his tone. “yeah? well i usually do.” jim looked at the side of your face, his gaze burning hot. “i bet.. look, this might come across as really weird, but gosh your voice is so pretty, it’s a nice change from the usual montone robots answering these phones.” you chuckled, the sound making jim want to snatch the thing out of your hand. dwight noticed this, a smug look taking over his features.

michael had his head poking out of his door, the entire office now listening in on your conversation. “put it on speaker!” erin whispered, everyone agreeing in unison. jim sighed, already not liking where this was going. “oh trust me, i know,” you spoke, “but would you be interested in hearing any of my offers?” you motioned for jim to pull up the package deals sheet on his computer. “please, enlighten me.” you gasped, raising your eyebrows at the man next to you. jim was quick to cover the scowl on his face, a fake smile gracing his lips as he pulled up december’s spreadsheet.

“okayyy! so starting off with the most expensive package, for five hundred dollars a month, you get a weekly delivery on your paper, and this includes an unlimited card stock supply that i can personally guarantee will arrive on time, all the time—”

“i’ll take it.” you blinked, dwight’s grin dropping from his face.

“r-really?! you don’t want to hear about my other packages?” jonathan, the man on the other line let out a disapproving hum. “no, i’ve heard quite enough, i’d love to make a deal with you though.” everyone exchanged looks, you and jim meeting each other’s eyes for the first time during this entire ordeal. “okay, may i please get your information?” you took the phone off of speaker, everyone, including michael, groaning in frustration. “i wanted to hear the deal!” kevin shook his head. angela made a face, turning around in her seat as she resumed watching cat videos on youtube.

you were quiet for a few moments, your eyes widening as jonathan stated his offer. “..so what you’re telling me is; in exchange for purchasing the five hundred dollar package, you want my phone number?” the office went into an uproar, dwight shooting out of his seat. “what is this? a phone sex hotline?!” jim couldn’t stand to listen to another second of this, his index finger reaching out and pressing the ‘end call’ button. you yelped, dropping the phone on his desk. “jim, what the hell?! i totally had that in the bag!” you stood up, a series of shouts sounding around the office.

“transfer him to my phone right now!” meredith shouted, jim wasting no time in giving her the number. “alright, ditzy, you could sell paper.” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, clearing his throat as he made eye contact with one of the cameras in the corner. you may be lacking a bit in the logical department, but you were an expert when it came to reading jim, and right now? he looked nothing short of jealous. you leaned down next to his ear. “well i’m glad we could settle that, halpert.” jim swallowed thickly, your perfume diminishing all of his senses.

[sixosix]

hello six! since you put it on your example, can I request izuku, a charger, but fluff? :3 congrats on 5k!

a/n 1k words !!! anon sent this back in march…its now july… thank you so much anon! sorry i got to this late

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

"Seriously? None of you have one? Not even you, Denki?"

Kaminari inspects your phone from all angles, humming. He eyes your charging port distrustfully. "No? What even is this?"

You bury your knuckle on his head. "Dipshit. It's a phone. A phone that's about to die because you fried my charger trying to blow your hair this morning."

Kaminari winces. "Oohh..."

"Hey." Ashido claps a hand on your shoulder, sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but that idiot's right, ya'know? This model is outdated."

Bakugou is about to walk past when he plucks the phone from your grasp and then studies it intently. His eyes narrow.

You beam up at him, hopeful. "Do you have one, Bakugou?"

He throws it back at you, and you fumble to catch it. "Nah. Deku's got the same one, though. The nerd will let you borrow one."

And then he leaves, just like that. You're not sure if you should yell at him for risking your phone or kiss him on the cheek for presenting a ray of hope that came in the form of Midoriya Izuku.

Ashido's eyes turn sly. "Oh? Midoriya, huh? Looks like you'll have to..."

You slap a hand over her mouth. Kaminari perks up, his expression a visible representation of his brain lagging behind.

"Hafta what?" he asks in a whisper.

"Nothing!" you squeak out before Ashido could say anything. "Nothing at all. Mina, you're acting weird. I'm just gonna borrow a charger from my classmate. What's so strange about that? Nothing at all."

Ashido giggles. "Right, right. Make sure you don't stay longer than three minutes, or else I'll just assume you're stealing a ki—"

"God! Seriously. My phone's about to die! I should go now. Bye, Denki. I hate you, Mina."

You pad away, phone clutched in a death grip as Ashido's laughter echoes in the hallway. Of course. Of course, Midoriya would be the only one in the class with the same charger as you because that makes sense. Your long-term crush would be the only person, obviously. Right. Duh.

You have a suspicion that Bakugou is aware of this crush of yours, and Midoriya isn't the only one who has the same type of charger, but you'd rather take Midoriya than--god forbid--Mineta. Bakugou can play Cupid if he wants.

You knock softly. "Midoriya?"

Once, twice, and the door swings open right away halfway through the third one. You and Midoriya stare at each other for a startled moment. Midoriya gapes, mouth dropping open almost comically.

"Y/N!" he exclaims.

"Hi," you mutter. "Sorry, did I disturb you?"

Midoriya glances back at his room. You follow his gaze, falling on his desk with a single lamp lighting the room, directed at notebooks and pens spread about. He must've been studying.

Midoriya turns back to you with a soft smile. "No, don't worry. Did you need something?"

"Oh, yeah." You show him your phone, wishing to every deity out there that he doesn't notice how your hands are trembling. "Denki fried my charger, and my phone's about to die. Do you have one for this model?"

Midoriya's fingers brush your skin as he takes your phone to inspect it himself. You thank All Might and his mother that Midoriya's too busy with your phone to notice that you're steaming, positively overwhelmed by this proximity. You've never been close to Midoriya like this before. He smells like freshly pulled laundry, his warmth emanating even at this distance. You find yourself gravitating, inching slightly closer.

Midoriya looks back up again. Your noses nearly touch. You both jump back.

"Sorry!" you both cry out. 

"Um." Midoriya's face is beet red. "I do have the same model."

You knew that, obviously. You move to reach for your phone, eager to leave before you do anything else stupid and embarrass yourself further. "Thanks a lot, Midoriya. You're heaven-sent."

But Midoriya rears back. "Would you like to come inside?"

...What?

Midoriya wilts. "I—I mean, unless you want to charge in your own room, I was just— Well, that makes more sense, actually. Nevermind. Forget I—"

You brush past Midoriya, saying, "Sorry for the intrusion!"

As your eyes take in the alarming cluster of All Might merchandise, you belatedly register the door clicking shut behind you. Midoriya bounds over to his bed, pulling out his charger. He makes a show of plugging it into your phone and displaying how your phone brightens.

"Thank you, Midoriya." You sigh and cradle your now-charging phone in your arms, like handling a wounded child. "I might have to go out later to buy a new one so I don't bother you again."

Midoriya laughs, settling back on his chair, but he faces you. "I don't mind, really. You can visit here anytime."

You don't see why you must 'visit anytime' when you can bring his charger to your room, but you wouldn't want to overstep when he's already lending you his things. And there's really no downside to it aside from your impending doom of humiliation; you wouldn't take down the offer of rooming alone with your crush. Not when he smells so nice, and he’s giving his undivided attention to you.

"So..." You set your phone aside. "Is that Preset Mic's seatwork?"

Midoriya glances over his shoulder, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah. I wanted to finish everything today."

"Do you mind teaching me?" you blurt out.

Midoriya blinks owlishly.

"I-If you want, I mean! I'll pay you back or something—"

Midoriya slides his chair closer to where you're sitting, beaming. "Sure. While your phone charges."

"Yeah," you say faintly. "Yeah. While my phone charges."

You stumble into Bakugou on your way out of Midoriya’s room, giddy and floaty, like Uraraka’s touched you with all ten fingers and left you to rot in space. You muffle a squeal as soon as the door’s shut. Bakugou arches a suspicious brow, looking at you up and down like you’ve done something particularly scandalous.

“What?” you ask defensively.

Bakugou huffs, smirking. “You took your sweet time there.”

“He offered for me to stay while I waited for my phone to charge.” And then you stick your tongue out for good measure.

“As if. Deku uses a faster charger. Your phone should’ve been done five hours ago, dumbass.”

[barbiiecams]

baby trapping bfb!rafe omg 😖. it would most definitely be an accident, but now you could finally claim him. you weren’t so opposed to the fact of getting pregnant with his baby beforehand, but because sarah was genuinely your friend, you made sure not to for the time being.

now rafe? he’d be so mad yet happy at the same time. he was very reluctant to even take off the condom off with you, and this seemed like the consequence to his actions.

“right there!” you moaned out as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“yea? right there?” he’d taunt, smirking down at the position he had you in. he pulled out for a second which almost made you cuss him out, but then lifted one of your legs in the air and held it by the back of your thigh, plowing his way back in again.

this made your eyes roll so far back you were almost positive they got stuck for a hot minute.

“that’s the spot, huh baby?” he’d lean over and say into your ear. not being able to form words, all you could do was nod. but there was something you desperately wanted from all this.

he’d been folding you up, throwing you around and switching positions all night. and he knew exactly how you liked it. it’s like he could seriously do no wrong. all though this whole situation was wrong, you still seemed to forget that this was your friends brother. someone who’s supposed to be off limits.

but we can’t help who we like, right?

he definitely didn’t care though, matter of fact, his dirty talk never stopped about it. “yea? that feel good being fucked by your friend’s brother? imagine if she saw us now. shit, i finally wouldn’t have to hide my girl.”

and he just continues.

“yea rub that clit baby. soak this cock.”

“keep taking it baby, know you can.”

“let go baby, cum all over it.”

as soon as he felt your release, his came up not too long after.

“shit, you feel too good. gonna make me blow mine soon.” this right here is when you ask for whatever, knowing how easy it is for them to say yes when they’re balls deep, seconds away from nutting.

“inside me? please!” you’d grab onto his shoulders, while his arms were now pressing your hip down into the bed.

his movement doesn’t slow, but his face says the answer as well as his words. “you know we can’t. convincing me to go raw wasn’t enough?”

“i just wanna feel you… all full inside me.” you’d say, almost choking on your words the way he’s still milking out your orgasm.

“i’ll cum in your ass. how about that?”

“s’not the same! please, rafe. just once?”

he doesn’t answer for a little bit, but the way his face starts to scrunch up, he was bound to cum in a few seconds.

“fine,” he finally says. “better fuckin take it all.”

right after that, his hot and heavy flow streams right into you, making your brain feel like complete mush.

after a few moments of just laying there, he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. “won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon with a pussy like that.” he chuckles, & you playfully hitting his chest.

—

the only thing that brought you was a world full of trouble. because here you are now, sitting on the toilet with a nauseous stomach, and positive stick in your hand to top it off. this most definitely was not supposed to happen, but you didn’t feel that bad about it either.

taking a picture of it in your hands, you sent it to rafe then put your phone down and held your stomach again. you didn’t even need that pregnancy test. the way you were throwing up buckets confirmed it by itself.

not even 5 minutes later, he texts you back.

“didn’t i tell you it was a bad idea? now how are you gonna tell sarah, cus im not.”

now that was definitely something you weren’t thinking about in the heat of the moment.

[kinardsevan]

Prompt: bucktommy entertaining each other while stuck in traffic.

“Give me something blue.”

Tommy almost glares at him. “Evan, that Bronco is teal.”

“Absolutely not,” Evan argues back, smirking at his boyfriend. They’re stuck in standstill traffic on the 210, just trying to get back to Tommy’s house after two long shifts, but an accident has them backed up from what should’ve been a ten minute drive to nearly half an hour in unmoving traffic.

“I mean I may or may not have been referring to something inside my pants,” he continues, turning to look out his window. “But since you’re so insistent, I spy with my little eye-“

Tommy hand claps down on his thigh. Evan turns his head back towards his boyfriend in the drivers seat as his face flushes, pink dusting across his features.

“We are in standstill traffic,” Tommy states gruffly. “Do not me make an exhibitionist out of you.”

Evan gives the hint of a smirk, but then nods. He reaches for Tommy’s phone on the center console as his boyfriend loosens his grip on his leg, though he doesn’t let go. He scrolls through the music for a beat before returning it to the dash, still just as bored.

After a time, he glances back at Tommy, and the older man looks back at him, feeling eyes on him.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head,” Tommy asks, stroking his thumb over Evan’s thigh.

“Just thinking about my favorite things about you,” Evan rasps, wrapping his hand around Tommy’s middle fingers on his leg.

Tommy flushes at the statement, a small smile pulling at his cheeks.

“Like what,” he asks timidly, curious.

“Like your hands,” Evan says as he looks down at the one he’s holding on his leg. “And how big they are. I’m not exactly small, but you make me feel like…” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “Like I’m worth protecting.”

“Evan,” Tommy lilts, his head dropping back against his headrest.

“Don’t read more into that,” Evan continues. “A-and also how, no matter what’s going on with everyone else, you always check in with me first. It’s been a long time, since someone took the time to ask.”

“That’s a basic right that you deserve,” Tommy reminds him, his thumb still moving absentmindedly on his leg. “You done?”

Evan shakes his head, smile still on his face.

“I love how tender you are with me in bed,” he admits quietly. “Even when I just want to be thrown around. You always make sure I’m taken care of, not just physically.”

Tommy’s hand clenches on his thigh again, but lets up after a few seconds.

“God damn, kid,” he mutters hoarsely. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Evan leans across the cab and kisses his jaw. Tommy leans into it, turning his head after a few seconds and kissing him as he lifts their intertwined hands, still manages to curl his fingers under Evan’s chin, keeping him close.

“My turn?” He asks when Evan finally pulls away, settles back in his seat and pulling Tommy’s hand along with him.

“If you must.”

Tommy squeezes his leg again, though this time in a show of reassurance as Evan leans back against his headrest.

“I also love your hands,” Tommy tells him. “Although for far different reasons.”

Evan blushes again, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“In all seriousness, the way you create things blows my mind,” Tommy tells him. “Food, crafts, the things you build. It’s fascinating to watch.”

Evan nods at the words. Tommy is never stingy with praise over anything he makes, whether it’s food, something for their living spaces, or something he went down a hyperfixation on.

“And your brain,” Tommy adds. “Your need to understand everything and seek out knowledge, and the way that has correlated to our obsession with Jeopardy.”

Evan smirks at that, adds. “I still miss Alex.”

Tommy nods. “And your willingness to completely throw yourself in. Doing in a few weeks what took me years.”

“Wanted you more,” Evan murmurs at him.

“That’s not lost on me,” Tommy replies. “God, Evan, your willingness to love people regardless and in spite of. Damn near unconditionally. I do feel protective of you, and maybe a little selfishly so, because when you give, you give your entire heart. I was jealous of that when I first realized it,” he exclaims. “Until I realized you were giving it to me.”

Evan gulps at Tommy’s words, the depth of love that he’s speaking to in the moment. It’s not that he doesn’t know it; he’s more than aware of how deep their connection is, feels it twenty-four seven. Still, hearing it out loud floods him with the kind of emotion he doesn’t know how to put into words.

“That’s my absolute favorite thing about you,” Tommy finishes. Evan just stares at him, eyes clear and filled with passion and adoration.

“I love you.” He states it simply, no intonation in his voice. It’s not the first time; they’ve been saying it for a while now. But it means more than that this time; like he’s not just saying the words, telling Tommy he loves him as he is. Like this time, he’s telling him he’s in love with him, and every tiny piece of what makes their relationship quintessentially them.

“I love you too,” Tommy says back, same tone, same intentions. Evan starts to lean across the cab again, but a horn honks behind them, causing them both to look up. Traffic has started to inch forward. Evan drops back into the passenger seat and Tommy chuckles softly, pulling Evan’s hand to his lips as they start moving again.

[n0vaisnthere]

Hey, Huge fan of your work!

Could you write a Wanderer/Scaramouche x Reader apocalypse au? Where reader is the polar opposite of Scara and is happy and giddy? And Scara is overprotective of Reader?

Scara best boy

Gilded Lily

Scaramouche/Wanderer x GN Reader

SUMMARY: Together with your overprotective boyfriend during the aftermath of a post-apocalyptic world.

APOCALYPSE MASTERLIST—☆•

CONTAINS: Pre-established relationship, protective Scara, ?Pet names/name calling? [Idiot, stupid, ect]

When the apocalypse started, it was sudden

You were walking back from the Akademiya after a long day of studying

You were basically half asleep when you felt somebody grab your hand and start dragging you along

"Come on, [name]." Wanderer said, though it wasn't in his usual annoyed snarky tone. It sounded concerned.. maybe even scared?

"What's wrong, Where are we going?" You asked, unaware of the dangers wandering around the city right now. Unaware of the virus that was spreading person to person.

"No time, just trust me." He said, his hamd guiding yours towards the nearest exit to the city.

—☆`~—

He was by your side at all times after that.

Needed to bathe in the river? He was waiting for you on the grass.

Wanted to take a break from walking to eat? He was sitting next to you.

He was scared of losing you like he did with so many others.

"Are you almost done?" He asked, cleaning his pistol and trying to avoid looking at you as you bathed.

"Yeah, about to get out hold on." You said, squeezing the residual water out of your hair.

You stepped out of the water, slipping on your damp clothes. Scara was already by your side, kneeling down next to you and helping you slip on your shoes.

"You're taking too long, stupid.." he said, tying up your laces. Hands lingering on your skin a bit longer before pulling away. He would never admit it, but he loved quiet moments like these.. it was like there wasn't brain eating zombies out and about everywhere throughout the nation.

—☆`~—

Worried about you getting sick

Seriously, a simple cold is the equivalent to the plague without any proper medicine nowadays.

So whenever he rains, he tries his best to keep you as dry as possible. Even if he had to get wet himself.

"Are you sure you dont mind?" You ask, a bit worried about him. The hat on your head slightly slows you down. Wobbling a bit.

"Just keep walking, Stupid. Stop worrying about me." He mumbled. His hand pressed against your back, gentle to try and stabilize you a bit.

You hummed, your hands coming up to try and hold up the hat. The rain pattered on the ground, the winds harshly blowing as the both of you moved on. Weather was started to pick up.. you would probably have to stop soon if it kept up. For now, it was just the two of you. Relaying on each other to stay alive.

You can find my masterlist here! -> HERE

[xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx]

"An ideal Sims game would have Sims 2's gameplay mechanics, Sims 3's open world, and Sims 4's graphics!"

I absolutely despise this take, and I want to explain why. This is a very long rant and it is full of piss and vinegar directed at everything in the Sims 4. I'm gonna try to keep everything kinda professional as much as I can but I can't guarantee an unbiased opinion.

If you'll let me talk your ears off for a moment, I'd like to explain, from my own experience as an artist and a casual player, my issues with the art style and direction of The Sims 4 compared to The Sims 2. (I'm not really going to comment on 3 because I've never played it.)

I want to start off by explaining the difference between better graphics and higher resolution. The Sims 4 absolutely blows Sims 2 out of the water when it comes to textures and polygon counts on sims, no contest. But I'd argue that the graphics themselves... aren't better. They're worse, even, so much fucking worse. The biggest problems come from the stylization and the animations, in my opinion, so I'll explain what I mean.

Have you ever felt like the Sims in 4 just look... weird? Not quirky, not kinda strange, but off. Distressing. Uncanny. Whatever the fuck the kids call it nowadays. When you strip away the packs and the CC and the shaders, the sims in the base game look bad. They're very close to being human; they walk like us, talk like us, have families like us, but they don't look like us, not exactly. There's always something off about them, no matter how close you try to get. Proportions will be a bit off, or your eyelashes will be like three polygons for some fucking reason, and the jig is up. The illusion is gone.

This is one of the instances where a higher resolution and more detailed models and meshes work against you. You aren't making believe. You are beyond the point of pretending that the pixelated shapes are real clothes and bodies and faces, because at this point, they're close enough that you don't need to. There's no gap to bridge. But that doesn't necessarily mean that they're lifelike, at least, not enough to be completely human. In some ways, they're still tethered to being cartoony and plasticky and fake. Just enough to frighten you. Enough to put you off. They're not using it to their advantage anymore, and instead, it's holding them back.

When the Sims 2 came out in 2004, the developers knew that they weren't going to make a perfectly accurate life simulator. They physically couldn't render every wrinkle in the face or fold in the clothing. In some animations, things clip strangely or the facial expressions are sort of janky or there's just some form of roughness around the edges. But that's okay; your brain doesn't need a perfectly accurate representation this time. That's not what you're here for, anyway.

The Sims 4 is basically Icarus-ing itself into disaster. The entire game sacrifices style for complete realism, a goal that was unachievable ten years ago, and is unachievable now.

The Sims 2 never thought of itself as a completely realistic life sim, though. It has cartoony, low poly meshes and exaggerated proportions and wild, raunchy storylines that would never occur in real life. BECAUSE IT ISN'T REAL LIFE. And it isn't like real life, not because it's failing to be, but because it doesn't want to be!

The Sims 4 is not ever going to completely replicate human looks or interactions or dynamics. And if it's trying to, it's doing a shit job of it. That shouldn't be the goal in the first place. If I wanted to watch a lonely college student talk to himself in the mirror to try and get better at interacting with people, I'd close the computer and go look at myself. It somehow highlights the most mundane parts of life without any of the whimsy and goofiness that the earlier installments had. It takes itself too fucking seriously for its own good, and it's killing both the gameplay and the art style.

The other point I'd like to bring up is the animation. The Sims 4 allows for much more customization of both sim and environments, but at the cost of dynamic animations. How many times is that grab animation reused? How many times is the same set of animations used for sims with wildly different personalities? Your sims barely feel alive with how little they express themselves.

Now, look, I'm a digital artist. I've dabbled in animation, but only briefly, and only in 2D. I've got no clue how 3D animation works, much less how it worked 20 years ago, but I can see the passion in every single animation in the Sims 2. The more niche interactions allowed for more expressive animations than in 4. They could afford to have a distinct animation for mean sims throwing the football extra hard to be assholes, rather than every sim using the same generic football-throwing animation to save time and money. I get where they're coming from. I get the idea. But in one move, you've both made the art style stiffer and less expressive, and you've made the personalities of the sims seem meaningless. Everyone acts the same, regardless of what their moodlets or their traits say. It's hollow. It's stifled. It's a waste of potential.

But for what Sims 2 lacks in polygons, it makes up for in smaller animated details. Quality over quantity. The sims have hair physics, they open the door before they get in the car, they take utensils out of the counters when they cook, they jump on the couch and the cushions smush under their weight. When they dance, the weight is realistic, and when they smile, it tugs at every one of the few dozen shapes that make up their faces. The sims are lively. They dance and sing and love and hate just like humans, and rather than being some strange attempt at mimicry, it's almost a tribute. They were made with love. You can tell that they were drawn up and rigged and animated by a bunch of people working together, studying each other and making faces in the mirror for reference and watching their kids and neighbors and dogs and hands for reference. The sims are not human, and not trying to be, but they're taking the most human parts of us and making them their own.

You could never have a game with the Sims 4's graphics and the Sims 2's gameplay. The gameplay and graphics are inexorably connected, and the Sims 2 just has so much glorious detail baked into it, that you could never really make it work underneath the limitations of the later games. The developers of 2 knew what their limits were, and they worked tirelessly to make the game as full and complex as they could within those limits. The developers for the Sims 4 just did not have those guidelines, and thus, the drive to bend the rules was no longer there. They didn't go wild in rebellion because they were never told they couldn't in the first place. They spent the entire time chasing a goal they couldn't meet, and lost sight of what made the series fun to begin with.

It wasn't the realism you came for; you had realism already surrounding you. It was the caricature of it that made it interesting.

[sethsclearwater]

Picture this:

Paul finds out your exes never bothered to go down on you and he shows you what you’ve been missing out on. Man goes ✨FeRaL✨

HE WOULD😭😭

...

"are you serious?" paul asked incredulously, his expression looked like a mix between angry and sad, something you couldn't quite place your finger on.

you had just finished explaining to paul that none of your exes ever went down on you and he was... disturbed to say the least.

"swear on my life," you giggled, rolling your eyes, finding it a bit crazy that he was so distraught about something as silly as oral sex.

"spread your legs," he ordered, sitting up so he could get between your legs, not waiting for you to comply with his order before he was manhandling them open himself.

"paul you seriously don't-" you started, gasping when he swatted at your hip, shushing you.

"now you're gonna sit here like a good girl and let me go down on you for as long as i want, okay?" he asked, though his tone suggested you didn't have much choice in the matter, "don't wanna hear any complaining from you," he added with a grumble, eliciting a series of giggles from you as he hooked his fingers around your shorts and panties, making quick work of tugging them down your legs before tossing them to the side.

you didn't even have a moment to argue with him before he was diving down in between your legs, immediately latching onto your clit like his life depended on it. you let out a loud moan at the foreign, but incredibly pleasurable sensation, arching your back up off the bed and quickly knotting your fingers through his inky hair.

"fuck paul-" you whined as he used one hand to hold your hip in place while he used his other hand to slide down to your entrance, carefully swirling around one finger before he was pressing it inside of you, pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust to the stretch before he was curling it inside you.

you let out another lewd moan as he brushed his finger against a particularly spongy spot in your heat, whining as paul sucked a bit harder on your clit in response to your moans.

it wasn't long before he was swirling another finger around your entrance, slowly pushing it inside so he could gently scissor your velvet walls apart. he pulled his mouth away from your clit for a moment, resulting in you taking a moment to catch your breath, but he was quick to blow cold air against the sensitive bud, sending your brain into another tizzy as you tried to process all the new, pleasurable sensations coursing through your body.

he was curling his fingers inside you, making sure he was stroking that particularly sensitive spot with each movement as he latched back onto your clit. your grip on his hair tightened, pulling him impossibly closer to your heat as he barely grazed his teeth over your clit, forcing another loud moan out of you.

"fuck me-" you whined as you quickly realized you weren't going to last nearly as long as you thought you would, the all too familiar coil in your belly quickly tightening as you felt your climax nearing.

paul knew it too, absolutely feral over the fact that he was the one making you feel so good, "you can cum kitten," paul murmured, lifting his mouth from your clit for only a moment before he was diving back in.

he pulled his fingers out of you, instead replacing them with his mouth, eagerly lapping up all your fluids as his fingers found your clit, slowly rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers.

you had no idea his tongue could feel so good, letting out a loud sigh as he dipped his tongue inside your walls, slowly thrusting the muscle in and out of your tight entrance while he continued rolling your clit between his digits.

"fuck paul i'm-" you whimpered, unable to finish your sentence before the coil in your belly snapped and you met your release, tightening your fingers in paul's hair as you rode out your orgasm, allowing paul to eagerly lap up every last bit of your release with his tongue.

you were sucking in lungfuls of air as you came came down from your high, slowly uncurling your fingers from paul's hair to gently scratch at his scalp, a silent apology for presumably nearly ripping his hair out.

paul spent a few more moments licking stripes up and down your pussy before he was pressing a soft kiss to your clit that had you whining, "taste so fuckin' good," he murmured as he got out from in between your legs, tugging you close to his side and smiling when you were quick to curl into him, "good?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer but he wanted to hear you say it anyways.

"so good," you whispered, smiling as you peeked up at him, "thank you," you added, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips that he gladly returned, melting into it for a moment before parting from your lips.

"just so you know i'm gonna be doing that every morning from now on," he mused cockily, chuckling when you rolled your eyes and giggled, already knowing there was no use in arguing with him.

what paul lahote wanted, paul lahote got.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2564

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sorry that this one feels like a bit of a filler - but I’m seriously hoping to get some spicy content out in the next chapter so pls pls stay tuned! Also this is only proof read by myself so pls let me know of any errors!

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Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 4

We spent a few hours researching and looking into the First Blades whereabouts after dinner, Dean and I only making work-related conversations after the pie ordeal. Every now and then when I looked up from the book I was reading I’d catch him looking in my direction, but I was far too tired for any more confrontation - I knew he'd act like an ass if I said anything. I decided to head to bed at around midnight, unable to read more than a few words and actually process said words in my brain. As Sam was still asleep, Dean showed me to my room which was tragically opposite his, and I could only imagine the noises that I’d be hearing coming through that door. Getting ready for bed, I dug out an old boyfriends T-shirt that I was still in possession of and threw it on, making sure to remove all other items of clothing except my panties. I climbed into bed - which was surprisingly more comfortable than I’d anticipated, though the sheets smelt a little musty - and set an alarm on my phone so I could hopefully rise before the boys in the morning. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep whisked me away, not giving me a chance to think about the wild day I’d had and the total jackass that I’d met.

*

My alarm rang at 5am and I crawled out of bed, dressing in yesterday’s jeans with a clean, low-cut tank top and an open flannel thrown over the top. Pulling on my boots, I ran my fingers through my hair before heading to the en suite bathroom to brush my teeth. As I turned on the tap, the pipes clanged alarmingly as a small stream of water trickled from the faucet, the harsh noise echoing around the small tiled room. “That’s not concerning at all,” I mumbled to myself, the noise finally stopping as I turned the tap off. After I’d finished brushing I headed back into the bedroom to grab my phone before leaving the room to walk wearily to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I instantly made a pot of coffee, the smell alone already helping to blow away the sleepy cobwebs in my mind. I needed food. Something good, like pancakes. So I rummaged around until I found everything I needed, starting to memorise where the brothers kept everything after spending so much time in here yesterday evening. As I whipped up the batter, I threw some bacon in a pan and placed three plates on the table, along with some mugs, the pot of coffee and a big bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I started cooking the batter, it was like I’d used a summoning spell.

“You know when I first woke up I thought that I’d dreamt you up in some sort of weirdly tame nightmare” Dean said in a deep and raspy, fresh-from-sleep tone as he paced into the room and sat at the table, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m your dream girl, Winchester?” I teased as I poured him a mug of coffee. He smirked, not looking up at me.

“You wish darlin’.”

“I really don’t,” I turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake, taking a sip from my own mug.

I’d made a stack of maybe twelve pancakes by the time Sam arrived, greeting me with that warm smile of his as he took a seat opposite Dean.

“Good morning (Y/n), something smells amazing.”

“Good morning Sam,” I smiled back at him before I looked over at Dean, “That’s how you greet someone in the morning Dean, not by telling them they were part of your living nightmare.” Dean shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee.

Sam gave me an almost apologetic look on his brothers behalf, saying quietly, “as charming as ever then, Dean.” As he sat down I placed the stack of pancakes along with the bacon on the table and both men’s eyes lit up, immediately picking up their cutlery.

“Help yourselves,” I said, taking a seat between them, “just leave a couple for me at least.”

Dean was the first to pile about five onto his plate along with a good portion of the bacon. Without even looking at me he placed two pancakes on my own plate as he reached for the maple syrup. Before I could ask for the bacon, it was Sam who served some up for me before giving himself whatever was left over before handing me the syrup.

“Oh, thanks guys…” I said, a little shocked at how weirdly coordinated they were with that whole task.

“You’re welcome,” they both managed to mumble out through huge mouthfuls of food. We sat in a strangely nice silence for a few minutes, the only noise to be heard was the sounds of breakfast being totally annihilated. Dean was the first to throw his cutlery down with a very satisfied groan. He stretched, his T-shirt rising slightly to show his incredibly toned abdomen.

For fucks sake.

“THAT is what powers a man up in the morning,” he said, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

“Mmm hmm,” was all I managed to get out, finding it annoyingly difficult to look away, let alone to stop my eyes from trailing to where his leather belt hugged his hips and his old denim jeans gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. A few seconds must’ve passed when he cleared his throat and my eyes snapped up to be immediately caught in that moss-green gaze. Shit. I thought maybe for a second that he didn’t notice me looking. But then the corner of his mouth twitched up into that infuriating smirk. Luckily for me, he didn’t say anything, but I watched as he dragged his gaze over my figure, similar to how I did with him. It was Sam who spoke up next and I tore my eyes away, letting out a breath as he saved me from Deans silent interrogation.

“So I read last night about a possible case,” he started to say as he finished chewing the last bit of food on his plate before pushing it away and turning towards us.

“Go on,” Dean said, leaning forwards - finally covering his exposed stomach.

“I think it’s a haunting - some sort of item possession involving a ghost. All of the accidents that have been happening seem to occur either around or directly within an old antique store that’s connected to an old auction house. I think it’s worth a look,” Sam opened his laptop that he’d placed on the seat next to him, showing us all of the research he’d done overnight. Looking at the evidence he’d piled together, I think he was on to something. I nodded.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ll go pack a bag,” I said, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Hang on a second,” Dean spoke up and I immediately knew he was talking to me.

“What?”

“What makes you think you’re coming with us for this?” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Because I never get to work out in the field - Bobby always had me on book duty and I want to see some real hunting in action,” I raised my voice a little starting to get defensive.

“If Bobby never let you do field work then neither are we. You’re staying here,” his tone was stern as he downed the last of the coffee and stood up, towering over me.

“What?!” I almost shouted.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s your place to say what she can and can’t do. I say we let her come along,” Sam intervened, his voice always full of reason and reassurance. I gave him a half smile - a small, ‘thank you for sticking up for me’.

“No way. There’s no way I’m letting Bobby’s girl put herself in danger. The old bastard would find a way to make us pay if anything were to happen to her; even from beyond the grave.”

“I don’t need you taking on his role, Dean. Bobby kept me safe my whole life, just him. I’m sure the pair of you could look out for me no problem on a little ghost trip,” I chided, coming up with a plan to get Dean to agree to me coming.

“(Y/n)s right, this shouldn’t be a hard case for us - if anything this is a small break from the real hard work,” Sam stepped towards Dean, trying to reassure him.

Dean looked from Sam to myself, and when our eyes locked I let a sly smile crawl onto my lips.

“Or maybe Dean Winchester isn’t up to the challenge?” I said, holding my hands up. He frowned, opening his mouth but I spoke again before he could get his words out. “Maybe….,” I stepped towards him, now only a few inches between us, “Dean Winchester is losing his touch, and isn’t the big strong man he used to be and really won’t be able to keep me safe…?” I flashed Dean my best doe eyes and I heard him suck in a breath as I reached forwards and tugged slightly on his T-shirt, making him look down at me with his eyes flicking between mine - dilating a little. I couldn’t help but bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes and pressing my fingertips to his chest, feeling his heart rate increase with every beat from my touch. I liked to think that I was being very ‘persuasive’.

“I think you’re right (Y/n), I don’t think Dean is up to the task. He’s definitely been losing his touch,” Sam spoke up, catching on with my game and joining in with the verbal attack on his older brother. Deans eyes snapped up to look at Sam and the almost trance-like state he was in before was shattered.

“I have NOT lost my touch!” He snapped. Sam and I looked at each other and exploded into laughing very fake laughs, clapping and wiping away a pretend tear.

“Sure thing ‘sweetheart’,” I said, “prove it - keep me safe.”

“Oh I’ll keep you safe,” Dean took the bait and barged past us, “I’ll keep you safe from your own fucking shadow.”

*

After a few hours of packing and travelling, we arrived in a very well manicured town - even the motel was decent. Upon checking in, we got two rooms; one for me and one for the boys.

“Let’s drop our stuff off, freshen up and meet back here in ten?” Sam said, checking his watch. It was just past 11am.

“Sure, sounds good,” I replied, and Dean just nodded in approval. Their room was further down the corridor than mine, so I watched them leave before entering my room. It was the usual layout: one double bed, cheap linens, an old TV and an under-stocked minibar. At least the decor wasn't completely brown. I dumped my bags on the floor and started to unpack some essentials. I laid my clothes out on the bed - some of these outfits may come in handy later on. For now though, I’ll just stick to what I was already wearing. Lastly I grabbed a tin that was down in the bottom of my duffle - inside was a bunch of fake IDs that Bobby insisted on making me a few years ago. I smiled, remembering him always answering the phone to the Winchesters, pretending to be their FBI boss. I was always dying to know what they were hunting when he got those phone calls. I admired them a lot back then. I shook away the memory and pocketed the IDs, marching to the bathroom and splashing some water on my face before leaving, locking the door behind me.

The boys were already waiting for me.

“You boys ready?” I asked, to which they both nodded. “Where to first?” my question was aimed at Sam, but Dean replied.

“The old antique store just down here on the corner,” he grumbled as we started walking, still unimpressed that I was tagging along. I shot him a look as he practically glared at me from the other side of Sam.

“Get over yourself Dean. I’m along for the ride so deal with it,” I snapped at him, hoping he un-rustles his jimmies quickly. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down, not when I’m excited to actually be on a case. My first ‘out in the field’ case of all things. I wanted this to be a good memory. He scrunched his face up at my words, mouthing an angry ‘I hate you’ at me, to which I flipped him off.

“Guys just behave yourselves!” Sam stopped in his tracks right as we were outside our destination. “We are professionals so we need to act like it. We’re here to do our job,” Sam said in an authoritative voice - which undeniably sounded very attractive on him. I walked a few steps ahead of them and stopped with my hand on the front door to the store.

“Sam’s right. I’m happy to be here helping these people,” I smiled a little too sweetly before throwing a dark look at Dean, “so pull your shit together Dean, you’re making us look bad.” I heard him start to protest before I pushed the door open and walked into the shop, hearing the two brothers scurrying to catch up with me. As we walked in we were greeted by an older gentleman, with a kind face, a neatly trimmed pure white beard and round specs.

“Good morning and welcome to the store,” he said, his voice soft, “Can I help you?” He looked between the three of us. The boys reached for the fake badges, but they were lost for words when I beat them to the chase - obviously being unaware that I’d come prepared. Holding my badge up for the older gent to see, I spoke without missing a beat.

“Hi! Yes you certainly can help me - I’m agent Granger and these,” I jabbed my thumb to Sam and Dean who were standing right behind me, “are agents Crabbe and Goyle. We’ve got some questions for you regarding the strange occurrences going on around here recently.”

“Of course, it’s about time these things were investigated,” the older man turned and beckoned for us to follow, which Sam did immediately. Dean and I were left behind, staring each other down. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I had a badge, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. He scowled.

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“You’re just mad that I got one up on you so early on,” I grinned up at him, his frown not budging.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he huffed.

“I’m safe from doing you then aren’t I?” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my lips.

“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head, obviously not catching on. I chuckled a little, walking past him to catch up with Sam, leaving him standing there confused.

“Don’t think too hard about it Dean, you might hurt yourself,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Fuck y- hang on- oh you BITCH!” He shouted after me as he caught on finally. I laughed, not looking back.

“Only to you Dean.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 5

[nekrosdolly]

another wesker brain rot blurb (18+)

cw; unhinged wesker thanks to uroboros, uroboros injections and mentions, canon compliant with the events leading up to re5, husband wesker, objectification if you squint, temperature differences (he is an icicle personified sorry guys), domesticated wesker, fingering, non-specified reader genitalia.

pet names (reader received): my dear, dearest, little dove

husband albert wesker ♡ ︎♡ ︎♡

husband wesker, who, thanks to uroboros, has a heightened sense of smell. since starting his injections, he's been obsessed with how you smell- your shampoo, your cologne/perfume, any lotions you'd use. even the scent of your skin without any product added is addictive.

husband wesker, who cooks for you despite his developing lack of appetite. he knows you need to eat and truthfully, he enjoys cooking. he never got to experience he domestics of having a homelife, what with his whole life being Umbrella ever since he was born. learning to cook is definitely stressful at first and he's not good to begin with- he's a scientist, not a chef. truthfully, he burns a lot of things at first, but you're a good sport and you help him along. he is embarrassed the first few times, even if he doesn't outright say it you can tell by the way the tips of his ears turn pink and how his lip twitches.

husband wesker, who comes up from behind when you're least expecting it and slides his hand to the small of your back, dipping his head down to kiss your hair, secretly marveling at how good you smell. he adores how soft your hair is too. how loud your heart beats in your chest when he moves his hand to your hip, when he murmurs in your ear, "you are divine, my dear."

husband wesker, who, despite losing his humanity, knows to treat you with care. though his primal instincts have begun to take over, he's careful with you as he's always been. though his eyes have turned red, his pupils to slits, he looks at you with adoration. his touches are never violent- he's become gentler since taking doses of Uroboros. he treats you less like your own person and more like a prize to hang on a wall. everything you do makes his heart, beating or otherwise, swell with pride. his blood roars in his ears at the most innocent of touches from you.

husband wesker, who was never one for kisses before Uroboros, now kisses you like his life depends on it. always handsy and needs you near for him to focus, otherwise he's worried about what you're doing and who you might be with. he knows you'd never rat him out- you love him just as much as he loves you, after all- but he can't help the thought that someone is manipulating you. someone that isn't him, and that hurts. he has no reason to be jealous

husband wesker, who never blows up your phone, but takes to periods of the cold shoulder until you finally get him to tell you what's wrong. his rage is calm with you. he'll make you sit in his lap while he tells you what's wrong, only for you to soothe him and assuage his fears. you know he's coming from a good place, even if his methods are a bit odd. his hands never leave you as he talks, finding comfort in stroking your hair or your cheek, even rubbing circles on the meat of your hips. without his gloves, his fingers are just as cold as ever, even through layers of clothing.

husband wesker, who's gentle with you during sex because if he's not, he might seriously injure you. his grip on your hips is deadly, but other than that, he's a saint. he whispers praises while he fingers your fluttering entrance, his fingers slick with your come and lube. "you're taking my fingers so well, little dove. can you take another? just one more for me, dearest?"

you'll nod, a quiet moan leaving you when he adds a third finger- they're long and on the thicker side, helping to stretch you open in preparation while also hitting that spot that makes you go limp. he kisses your neck, down to your collarbone, where he leaves lovebites and admittedly very dark hickeys. your nails digging into his arm brings him back from his thoughts, and he watches you come undone from his fingers for the second time. this was supposed to prep you, but he loves how you look with his fingers buried within you.

[writeroutoftime]

Can I request a carmy x reader where they’re dating and carmy blows up at her and he immediately feels bad and tries to apologize and she brushes him off and keeps cooking but gives him the hand signal from s2 and after service he’s a big apologizing mess

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

words: 0.7k

a/n: anon, thank you for this request! had a little trouble with this one, so I'm sorry if anything feels weird or ooc, but I hope you enjoy! (and if we're saying when this takes place - probably few weeks after the bear has been open, so after the end of season 2 but no spoilers)

oOoOo

It started with little annoyances throughout the day that kept building and building. A late delivery of ingredients, last minute cancellation of a large party, and a call-in sick from one of the new hires. Each new development sent Carmen spiraling further and further, all culminating during The Bear's dinner service.

"Where the fuck are my entrees for table 33?" Carmen shouted, his voice ringing out in the kitchen.

"Coming right up, chef." you called back, plating the dishes as fast as you possibly could.

Order after order came through, all night, and being one chef down meant those left in the kitchen had to pick up the extra slack. But the synergy was off and the moment you stepped back to pour the sauce, someone slammed into you from behind, and the sauce went everywhere but the dish - including all down the front of your apron.

"Chef, entrees for 33, now!" Carm's voice rang out with a notable edge to his tone.

Huffing, you quickly salvaged what was left of the sauce. "Hold on." you grounded out finally placing the dishes next to Carmen, waiting for a server to deliver them to customers.

"What is this shit?" he demanded before you could skitter back to your station. "This is looks completely fucked."

"Carmen, calm down. It's fine." you placated, rushing back to work on the next set of orders, but Carm wasn't done just yet as he let the rest of his day finally boil over onto you.

"No, it's not fine. We need to be better than this." he yelled, stalking towards you. " Don't pull this kind of shit again. You need to be better than this!" he yelled, then scoffed as he headed back to expo. "God, don't know why I hired you." he muttered, pulling out the next ticket.

Though his words were hushed, he might as well have yelled them because the entire kitchen went silent, all eyes turning to stare at Carmen. Yes, it wasn't unusual for his outburst, but he had been doing better at managing his stress and frustration. Not to mention he never spoke to you that way before.

It took Carmen a moment, but he finally registered his words once his brain processed the silence and the narrowed glances his way. As though he had been shocked, Carm jumped back from his station and hurried over to yours, wiping sweaty palms on his apron.

"Hey, y/n, I-I shouldn't have shouted at you like that." he started, trying his best to look you in the eyes.

The only response Carmen received was a harsh chop of your knife as you diced the vegetables in front of you for the next set of orders you needed to finish up. Your own rage boiled inside, but this wasn't the time or the place to deal with it, so you channeled everything into your cooking.

"Seriously, that was uncalled for. I didn't mean what I said." Carmen continued, his voice growing a little more desperate at your lack of response. But before he could speak again, he caught your hand gesture through the corner of his eye.

Taking a moment, you placed your knife down and rubbed a closed fist against your chest. Of course, Carmen wasn't off the hook, but you knew dinner service had to be finished before you could address the line of your relationship that had been crossed. With a half-defeated sigh, Carmen nodded his head, copying the gesture, and continued to call out tickets - this time noticeably calmer.

oOoOo

A few hours later and the kitchen was just about empty. Most of the other chefs had rushed to clean their stations and leave the moment the last order went out. No one wanted to stew in the tension any longer. Though, Tina did offer you a half smile and a comforting touch on her way out.

When it was just you and Carmen left, you kept your head down, scrubbing away at your already cleaned surface. You could hear his footsteps echo until he stood only a few feet away, but you knew he needed to be the one to initiate this conversation.

"Look, y/n, I shouldn't have done that tonight."

"Done what?" you pushed, but Carmy only shook his head, confused and grasping for a response. "You shouldn't have said those words to me, or you shouldn't have shouted at me like that when the rest of the kitchen was also a fucking mess?"

"Oh, um, both." he stuttered out, clearing his throat. Then after a few moments. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just get so caught up in it all, and I know that's not an excuse. I'm going to do better." he promised, fighting back to tears that began to mist over his eyes.

His words washed over you, and you let out a huge sigh. This wasn't the first blowout you'd had with Carmen, and you knew how difficult it could be for him to allow himself to be vulnerable.

"Look, what you said, really hurt, Carmy, but I know you didn't mean them." you began, and Carmen had his own moment of relief when you used his nickname and held out your arms for him to step into. "The Bear is going to be a success, okay? All of us are going to get it there. But, in the meantime, let's find some ways to help us cool down. We're a team right?"

"Yeah, yeah we are." he mumbled against your skin, thankful to be so close to you once more, and willing to do what it took to keep it that way.

[queerfortress2]

Oh my god, I loved the way you described the support classes in an argument, I feel like it was totally spot-on. Would you be willing to write how the other classes would be in an argument, as well? Or, at least maybe the defence classes?? Thank you and have a wonderful day! 🥰

another engineer (technically) one, im in heaven. also, thank you! (also so very sorry for how short it is, my brain is so very very fried from art fight.) — mod engie

GN!READER X DEFENSE CLASSES ; ARGUMENTS

DEMOMAN

out of all of them? he is the best. he can actually recognize that he is wrong in an argument after the fact and apologise, which is crazy by mercenary means. after all, most of his problems are solved by alcohol and bombs, but he cares about you enough not to blow you up, so be thankful for that.

that being said… he’s also drunk most of the time, so the former may not even apply when you’re arguing. he most likely won’t recognise he’s even arguing— hell! he might not even remember he’s arguing halfway through and begin talking about a completely unrelated topic. it’s kind of difficult to continue from there, considering he’s either too drunk to recognise you, sleeping, or taking another swig out of a comically large bottle.

"Aye..! I know y’er mad aboot th’ match but in—" His glassy eyes looked around, almost not at you, rather your general surroundings, his leg limp slightly. Be tilted to the right as he looked towards the fireplace of the lounging area, stumbling slightly, "—Wh’teva’ ‘s really jus’ ah… hic!—" Almost on cue, the man had practically fallen, stumbling over, falling asleep momentarily. The second his body loses balance, you seem to have been forced by your instinct to catch him. The impact between him and your arms almost knocked you both over, but thankfully he slowly rose back up to his feet and looked you in the eyes. Unfortunately for you, he already forgot about the argument, and began incoherently babbling about how he missed being this close to you. ..Maybe bring it up another time. One of the rare hours when he’s sober.

when he's sober afterwards i imagine its a lot easier to have a conversation with him, after all he's usually willing to admit he was in the wrong, and a lot of the time, its not a big argument. he's just not a man easy to anger. while the support classes are much easier to aggravate. a common theme seems to be the defense class men are just a loooooot more patient. (also a lot more apologetic)

ENGINEER

its genuinely really hard to argue with this man because he is (most of the time) correct. even if it is an argument you thought you knew all about he's INFURIATINGLY on top. why? well, he does his research really. he's not as willing to win silly little debates but when it comes to much more serious decisions being made. or, say, doing something utterly STUPID at work that could've gotten you killed. yeah, the respawn exists, but darn it that don' mean you can play with it!

so when you, say, fuck around with dangerous technology, he will 100% start arguing. not because he hates you for messing with his latest trinket, but because you could've gotten seriously hurt! that's not a game he's willing to play. unlike the medic, he doesn't often fuck around with satan, the poor texan doesn't want to grow more grey hair in his... beard? eyebrows? i don't know, dell is practically bald.

"WHAT were you THINKING?" The Texan dropped his hard hat onto the desk beside him. The man works late nights to make sure no one gets royally fucked by that dangerous machine his Grandfather created a few generations before, and you're skipping out of it like it's a playground? It's safe to say his blood pressure suffers due to your recklessness. Though it was clear his volume was unwarranted, he finally started over with a long sigh, talking at a normal volume. "Y'know that thin' wasn't always 'dere? Dontcha? Don't get too comfortable with that thin'. I don' wanna see you get hurt, y' hear me?" Dell really didn't want to hear your side of the argument, after all, in his mind there was no reason in hell OR heaven for you to just casually run at the flames of the opposing Pyro for 'funsies'. Imagine how it is for him to see you die in numerous ways on the battle field. It AIN'T NICE, to say the least.

no matter how long the argument went on, he would eventually shut you down with a good 'don't pull that shit again' and move out to take a lap. he takes a lot longer to cool down than the other two defense mercenaries, mostly because whenever he argues genuinely, it gets rather personal. even if to you it seemed rather 'impersonal' and 'professional' feel-y, in his heart it was because all the machinery is what gives his family their name. whenever he sees someone messing around with it? it genuinely ticks him off.

HEAVY

man of little words argues the least, mostly because, unlike engineers, everything is rather impersonal. he's definitely heard it all, and while i don't think he apologises as often, it's also just difficult to get him to argue THAT BADLY. the most you get out of him is maybe two words telling you not to do something, and even then there's not that much room for argument is there? you either do what he's asked of you or you don't. both are things he can't quite control. he's just as stubborn, as you can tell he just does his own thing, only following directions when he can see it's vital for his or others' survival.

not impossible to argue with him, however. there are times when you can get him to argue, but its usually not anything important. perhaps you had a different opinion on how a cliffhanger was supposed to be interpreted? now we're getting somewhere. maybe you have a rather negative imagine of fyodor's brothers. he's not gonna let you pass without explaining why.

"I just didn't understand what the Father was supposed to mean in all that!" You may have exclaimed as you sat across from the largest mercenary on the team, yet sat composed in a comfortable sofa chair, with small glasses and a comically small book in hand. He wasn't usually seen like this, after all, most people see him screaming violently on the field. It's only this side that you see most commonly late at night. The way you seemed to speak of it was rather surface-level. Which, not to blame you, it's a Russian novel, not many are reading it at all. Heavy never owned books in English. So it's really just for you to 'suck up and take' while reading with him. Thankfully, he's taught you enough to have you fill in the blanks with common sense. Perhaps it was just American society getting to you. Back at home, the meaning was a lot easier to grasp, knowing that most were under a similar crushing situation under the new rule. At least in Russian society, where a lot of knowledge is needed to even begin to understand the book, the brothers' differences were clear in what they represented and what their father represented, especially in the modern day with the uprising and new government, filled with Soviet control. The man stared lost in thought at you, which is mighty intimidating on its own, before actually speaking up. "Ah, no." He simply shook his head, leaning forward in his chair for you to hear him better, "He uses father in metaphor not..." He snapped his finger attempting to remember the English word for his sentence. "Literal. Father mean more than just caretaker. Mean oppression." It sounded as if he were to continue before he simply sat back and relaxed back into his chair.

it didn't exactly feel like an argument, in fact it felt more like he was informing you. but that's genuinely the closest i could ever imagine him getting to an argument. he just doesn't seem like that type of guy.

[sparklecarehospital]

been reflecting on my year a bit, and i was thinking about something. i think i know what the best thing i did for myself this year was.

making cometcare public. making the ask blog.

ive had this AU stirring in my brain since 2019, ever since i got really attached to doomi during the haunted arc. one reason i went so long without revealing pollarrydoomi as a ship to readers was because doom's crush wasn't public information until late 2021.

i had kept his crush a mystery for 3 years, but revealed it after a fun experience where people figured out who it was through guessing. i'm pretty sure i did a poll about it? asking people to guess who they thought it was, and uni won the vote, meaning everyone had already figured it out.

after pollarrydoomi was revealed and i started drawing art for it and people made fanart for it, i still couldn't post any of my AU art because ally wasn't public and she and howie were in the AU. in july 2022, for the comic's birthday, i revealed ally as a character to the readers. others around the time had started to notice characters i had in pfps and i ended up telling everyone i did have pollarrydoomi ship kids, but i didn't make them public.

in november 2022, i revealed eve on toyhouse. after her reveal, i would soon reveal sly as well in december 2022 on my birthday (revealing sly as a birthday present to myself is such a funny gesture now that you guys know how important he is to me). over the next few weeks i revealed cream, frosty, and marco as well. all of the main cometkids except chem.

then one day someone out there suggested that i make an ask blog for the cometcare AU. it was such a spontaneous decision, and i didn't even really know what i was gonna do with it at first. i was just kinda messing around. but when i made the blog i realized that if i wanted this AU to be experienced in complete authenticity, i couldn't make uni cis.

so i revealed uni being trans through the blog, despite the fact i'd gone so many years without ever revealing her identity. why did i do it? there's a lot of reasons. not wanting to make her a "dad" in the AU contributed, but also i felt like it wouldn't be detrimental to the story to confirm a character being trans. it also made me (and the crew in general) a lot more comfortable being able to properly refer to uni with her actual pronouns.

making the ask blog really changed me, because finally i could share this little family and comfort story i'd built in my brain with the world and make it real and make content for it and let people consume it.

but what stopped me most of all?

i've said it many times before... but i felt like it was cringey.

i felt like making an AU with 93985893844 fankids in a ridiculous complicated polycule wasn't something a Serious content creator should do, and i was really worried the reception would be negative or people would think it was stupid or something. i did NOT expect it to become as popular as it is. the blog actually has more followers than the MAIN ASK BLOG for the canon comic. it was received SO POSITIVELY and the fact it was just kind of blows me away.

it means so much to me. being able to share the most special thing in my life with people and for people to actually like it and have fun with me and want to see it, and for me to be able to not have to follow strict professionalism about spoilers and chronological storytelling, and being able to change and add in things whenever i felt like it. it's such a freeing experience.

when i was a kid, i used to make stories and OCs and i didn't take them as seriously as i do the sparklecare reboot. this kind of turned into my entire life and career kinda, so i had to take it more seriously. but making this AU honestly just makes me feel like i'm a kid again, it makes me feel like i can have fun and literally do whatever the fuck i want without worrying what people think or if it's realistic or if it makes any sense.

i know though, that some people don't like pollarrydoomi. and i know why. whether it's because of being attached to barruni (of course, they're the canon ship and main characters, i get it) or just having discomfort with the idea of shipping doom with anyone when canonically he hasn't experienced a redemption arc... i get it. i know not everyone likes it.

and that's okay! people are entitled to having their own feelings about content. i understand it. and i've come to accept that's always going to be the case with anything i do with these characters.

but i'm still going to do this for myself. i do this because it makes me happy to just have fun and not worry about being serious all the time. it feels good, especially when it's with characters that are really really important to me.

cometcare is genuinely the most special and important thing i've ever made for myself, it's such a huge piece of my identity and it makes me who i am. and being able to make this story public and share it with people and share these things that have been in my brain for so long with others means so much to me.

that's why i think it was the best thing i've done this year. it's kind of literally changed my life to be able to talk about them. it's made me happier than i've ever been making content. i'm not just making it to entertain myself alone anymore, i'm making it to entertain others like i do with other stuff. and the fact people actually like it still is unbelievable to me.

so, i guess my outlook for next year as it comes is to continue to stop taking everything so seriously. i can tell my stories however i want to. i hope others can realize they can do this too.

please make whatever you want, whenever you what, as much as you want, even if it doesn't make sense or if it's "cringe". you will be so much happier when you realize as a creator you DON'T have to take all of this so seriously. the comic still exists and people read it even if i'm doing this. You Can Do Whatever You Want And Nobody Can Ever Stop You. the only person who can stop you is yourself when you let your inhibitions get in the way of your ability to create things for yourself.

have fun! life is too short to take everything you do seriously

[striveattemptfail]

Feel your way | Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson, 2.7k, NC-17

@poolvertober: Day 8 – Bloodbath

Summary: Yet another Honda Odyssey fic lol. TW: Canon-typical violence and body horror, plus smut. Read on Ao3

A/N: Title from You're the One That I Want from Grease because it's right there. Horrifically un-beta'd and I'd apologize but my eyeballs will fall out their sockets if I have to proofread this one more time /o\

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

“I take it all back—the Honda Odyssey fucks hard,” Wade breathes out, head lolling with perverse satisfaction. He lifts the hand holding baby knife to beckon Logan back to him, two fingers curled and teasing. “Too bad you don’t, needle dick.”

Logan rises to the bait. “Oh, we’re just getting started, bub.”

And Logan leaps towards him again with a roar, claws sinking into Wade’s chest cavity. When he pulls his claws out for another attack, Wade manages to grab one of Logan’s arms to stab him clean through the tricep, but Logan uses the connection to pull Wade into leaning sideways. With Wade’s right side more exposed, Logan’s free hand begins to jab him repeatedly in the temple before moving down to do more of the same to Wade’s shoulder. Wade presses his thigh against Logan’s torso, trying to use his leg to swinging himself upright. He brings up a forearm to block Logan’s wrist, pushing away the claws now slashing at him anywhere they can reach.

The symphony of metal against metal, metal penetrating flesh, and the Honda groaning from the violence accompany his and Logan’s grunts and growls, the occasional curse and insult dotting their fucked up little melody. Body ephemera spews everywhere, flesh and guts continuing to paint the car’s interior like a bloody Jackson Pollock, with glass and ripped up seat fabric also scattered around.

It’s been a long while since Wade fought someone that just won’t fucking quit, most people being lame losers and doing stupid things like dying before he can really get into it. At some point between choking Logan with a seatbelt and Logan’s claws stabbing right through his brain, Wade stopped fighting Logan over his painfully accurate monologue about Wade’s shitty life to fighting Logan because it feels fucking glorious to spar with someone who tosses back just as much as Wade throws at them.

Logan now practically straddles Wade’s leg, his knees bracketing Wade’s right thigh in the backseat of this godforsaken vehicle. He sheathes his claws on one hand, opting to simply smash his knuckles into Wade’s face. The arm not dealing blows (haha, blows) shoves his claws into Wade’s shoulder and onto the seat. Wade is effectively pinned down, but by now he’s only halfheartedly stabbing Logan’s side with baby knife until Logan finally realizes why.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Logan pauses his fist’s tirade against Wade’s face.

“Whaaat?” he asks innocently, drawling out the syllable. Even though he knows Logan can’t see it right now, a shit-eating grin grows beneath his mask.

Logan scoffs in disgust. “Seriously, bub?” He presses one of his thighs to onto Wade’s very obvious erection.

“Hey, at least this time I’m awake for it!” Wade reasons. “And the only thing keeping me all nice and close is you, old man.” He squirms a little to prove his point, several areas of his body rubbing on Logan.

Logan grunts another noise of disgust. “I don’t understand why you don’t wear a cup, you goddamn lunatic.”

“I’m glad that’s the only issue you have about this, honey badger!” Wade happily quips back. He shifts his hips up, dick deliberately rutting into Logan’s thigh, not even bothering to stifle the pleased moan stuttering out of him. “Can’t say I miss having one on right now.”

With a growl, Logan grabs Wade by the mask and smacks the back of his head hard into the backseat. Wade thinks if he didn’t have whiplash or a concussion before, he definitely has both now.

Pain echoes in his skull as he yells out, “Fuck!”

Logan repeats the action, knocking Wade’s head onto the seat several times in quick succession, his grip on Wade’s mask pulling it halfway off and exposing his mouth. Wade can feel all kinds of bodily fluids—blood, drool, sweat, maybe some snot—dripping down his chin and onto his neck now that his mask isn’t catching the filth.

His body is then slightly jostled from Logan’s manhandling, which allows him to also feel (oh, fuck yes, that’s it) something else.

Logan lets go of his mask, bringing his arm back to unleash his claws with a snikt! He points them right in front of Wade, close enough Wade can basically breathe and close the distance.

“You,” Logan pants hard, nostrils flaring, “are a repulsive piece of shit.”

With his mouth exposed, Wade beams another nasty grin at Logan. It’s the only response he gives before licking one of the claws not even half an inch away from his lips. He cuts his mouth on it, of course, blood flooding everywhere and onto Logan’s claw. But he pays no mind, tilting his head slightly and immediately gliding his tongue down the smooth side of the blade while he meets Logan’s appalled glare.

“You’re a fuckin’ freak.”

Wade’s grin only widens. “And yet.”

He bucks up his hips to meet the growing tent in Logan’s pants. Logan hisses at the contact, looking down at his crotch in what Wade assumes is betrayal before meeting Wade’s gaze again with a sneer.

Because for all the beating he’s being served, there’s no way Wade would let Wolverine’s boner escape his notice since the fucking hypocrite doesn’t wear a cup either. Not that Logan’s dick is possible to ignore in the first place, considering how his clearly generous size is doing its damndest to break free from the jock he’s got on.

Fuck, Wade hopes that claws aren’t the only thing inside him today.

He mouths his way back to the end of the claw, staring Logan in the eyes as he begins to suck the tip into his mouth. He’s slow, actually trying to be careful for once because he doesn’t want to accidentally slice his tongue clean off. He’ll need it when he gets Logan’s cock into his mouth.

He pulls away with a muted pop!, a thin string of blood-tinted spit still connecting his lips to the claw.

“Seems like we match, kitty cat,” Wade croons, lifting his hips up to grind on Logan again. “Maybe my freak just matches yours.”

Logan growls, teeth bared as he digs the claws still in Wade’s shoulder even deeper. Wade unashamedly lets out another moan, and at this point he honestly can’t tell if it’s from pain or pleasure. Probably-most-definitely both.

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snarls, his other hand still threatening Wade with a lobotomy and then some.

Wade licks the tip of another claw.

“Then fucking make me.”

Logan hisses, pulling his claws out of Wade's shoulder. Wade gasps at the new pain now blooming in his shoulder wounds when Logan cups his hands on Wade’s cheeks and kisses him.

Though, it’s less of a kiss and more like Logan using his mouth to punch Wade’s.

Wade yelps at their teeth clacking together, the sound turning into a long moan when Logan shoves his tongue into his mouth. The kiss immediately turns dirty once Wade’s brain catches up to what’s happening, and Logan shifts to straddle his lap properly. The low groan that escapes Logan’s throat when he sinks into his lap and rubs their clothed boners will make an appearance in Wade’s spank bank for years to come, he’s sure of it.

His hands move to Logan’s waist, halfway to groping Logan’s ass, but he gets distracted by what Logan’s doing with his tongue. Apparently, Wade’s aborted attempt to grope his butt seems like hesitation, because Logan pulls away from Wade’s mouth long enough to growl, dropping a hand to push one of Wade’s onto a pert cheek.

“Either grab it or don’t,” Logan snarls. “None of that half-ass shit.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Wade smirks up at him, both hands sliding to Logan’s ass and gripping.

Logan gasps softly, arching his back to push into Wade’s palms. “Fuck, yes.”

Wade dives in for another kiss, their noses just barely avoiding an accidental, very un-sexy headbutt. Logan tugs at Wade’s mask and pulls it all the way off. Wade would protest because he already knows what Logan thinks of his appearance, but his entire brain is kind of focused on the taut muscles of Logan’s ass beneath his fingers and the taste of Logan’s mouth when he sighs.

“Off, off,” Logan pants, pawing at Wade’s pants after using his teeth to bite his gloves off.

He nods helplessly, removing his own gloves and unbuckling his utility belt, immediately going for his fly right after. His cock springs free from where it was trapped, aching and flushed red, and Wade can’t help but smile at the heated look he catches on Logan’s face.

“Looks like not wearing a cup was a good thing after all, huh, Wolvie,” he says smugly.

Logan rolls his eyes, working on his own suit and shoving the jock down to free his own dick. Wade’s mouth literally starts salivating at the sight of Logan’s fully hard cock, long and thicker than he expected. At the base is a jungle of wiry hair that Wade can’t wait to bury his nose into once he gets Logan into his throat.

Logan frowns at him. “Quit starin’, bub.”

“Can’t help it when you’ve got a baby arm down there,” he replies easily. “How the fuck did you even fit that in your pants? The poor thing must’ve been suffocating!”

Logan unsheathes his claws on one hand, grazing the tips on Wade’s cheek. He’s pretty sure Logan breaks the skin there if the warmth dripping down his face is anything to go by.

“Shut the fuck up before I chop your dick off, Mouth,” Logan warns. Wade only laughs.

At Logan’s confused expression, Wade leans in to kiss him again, short and quick, before bucking his hips up. They both hiss when their cocks brush together, and Wade bites down on Logan’s bottom lip. With one hand he grabs Logan’s shoulder, the other slipping down to take both their cocks into a loose fist. He begins stroking slowly, heat pooling in his stomach when he feels Logan’s hips twitching into his grip. Wade moans again, mouth pulling away to kiss his way down Logan’s jaw and onto his neck.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps, “can barely get my hand around you, you’re fucking huge.” Logan groans into his ear, biting at Wade’s lobe.

At this point, Logan’s hands have snuck underneath Wade’s top, palming at whatever he can reach. Wade’s breath stutters when Logan rubs his nipples, which he clearly notices because the motherfucker starts to pinch both of them at the same time, rolling them in his fingers.

“Fuck!” Wade shouts at a particularly hard pinch, hand abruptly pausing mid-stroke.

“Yeah?” Logan pants, doing magical things to Wade’s nipples, and Wade can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Keep that up and this is going to end a lot sooner than we both want, honey badger,” he warns, nipping at the corner of Logan’s jaw.

“S’not my fault ya got sensitive nips,” Logan grumps but he releases Wade’s nipples anyway. His hands continue their earlier exploration of Wade’s skin, his breath catching in his throat whenever Logan’s nails scratch him.

He catches Logan in another bruising kiss, tongue licking the palate of Logan’s mouth. Wade begins stroking again, using his thumb to gather the precum leaking from both their cocks. It’s not enough, the friction still on the side of too dry, but Wade does not give a fuck and it seems that Logan doesn’t either. When he begins to rock his hips, Logan does the same, their rhythm already frantic and frenzied, and Wade closes his fist into a tighter circle.

Logan bucks his hips with a little too much gusto on an upstroke, nearly knocking them both off balance until he catches himself by stabbing the headrest next to Wade with his claws.

“Getting too excited there, big boy?” Wade’s lips brush Logan’s when he speaks. “Feel that good?”

“Fuck no.”

There’s a tiny part of Wade that hurts at the words but he ignores it in favour of catching Logan’s lips in another dirty kiss. He bullies Logan into lying down, and Wade slides down to finally face Logan’s cock, kissing the tip and licking at the precum that dribbles out. He grasps the base of Logan’s cock with one hand, taking Logan deep enough for his lips to meet his fist. He plants his other hand firmly on Logan’s hip.

Logan makes an unhappy sound. “What? I can’t fuck your mouth?”

Wade shrugs one shoulder, humming on the downstroke, and smiling (as much as he can with Logan’s dick in his mouth, at least) when Logan drops his head back with a drawn out groan, hands coming to rest on Wade’s shoulders. He doesn’t really pay attention to his technique, too excited to have The Wolverine’s dick in his mouth to think about pace and finesse, but Logan doesn’t seem to mind at all with the way his hips keep twitching up. There’s a reason why Wade has a hand pushing on the flat of Logan’s pelvis.

He gradually manages to open his throat, pushing himself further and further down Logan’s cock, satisfied once his nose begins brushing wiry curls. He may or may not start humming the closer he gets to the base just to hear the noises escaping Logan every time he does.

Pulling off with a filthy slurping sound, a thick line of spit and precum connecting his lips to the tip of Logan’s cock. Wade licks his lips hungrily, keeping one hand pumping Logan while the other moves down to grip his own aching dick. He sighs in relief once he starts stroking himself.

“Fuck my face now,” is all he says before swallowing Logan back down to the root.

“Shit.”

For as violent as he was not five minutes ago during their fight, Logan is surprisingly gentle thrusting into Wade’s mouth now that he has permission. It’d be sweet if Wade isn’t in the middle of chasing his own pleasure right this moment, and he needs to feel Logan hitting the back of his throat for tonsil target practice before he loses his mind.

He pulls off with a whine, frowning up Logan.

“What happened to ‘none of that half-ass shit’?”

Logan glares down at him, a low rumble coming from his chest.

“You fuckin’ asked for it, asshole,” he sneers, and before Wade can complain again, Logan grips the back of his head and shoves him back down to the base of his cock.

He begins to fuck Wade’s face in earnest, delicious noises spilling from his lips that Wade can’t help but return with his own whimpers. He moves the hand that was stroking Logan’s dick to fondle the man’s balls instead, his other hand still furiously jacking his own cock. His jaw aches in the best way as Logan relentlessly guns for his orgasm.

“M’close, bub,” Logan pants heavily. “Pull off, wanna come on your face.”

Wade whines in the negative—he wants everything pouring down his throat.

“I said fuckin’ pull off!”

He stubbornly refuses, too fucking close to coming to care about what Logan wants at the moment.

Several things happen in slow motion from there.

(Take a moment to imagine a record scratch followed by the opening plucks of the violin from Enya’s Only Time à la the second movie, dear reader.)

Wade comes while his mouth is still on Logan, his eyes clamping shut from how hard it hits him. He might also accidentally bite down a little, tiny bit because of his orgasm. (Don’t blame him for getting bitey when he comes—it’s not like he can help it!)

At the same time, Logan grabs the back collar of Wade’s suit while his other hand pushes Wade’s forehead, forcefully pulling Wade off his dick. Wade vaguely registers Logan yelping in pain, likely because he is in pain now that Wade is maybe, slightly using his teeth. Wade—rightfully upset, in his opinion—makes a pathetic, displeased noise when Logan’s cock slips out of his mouth.

For some fucked up reason that Wade would love to investigate one day, this is when Logan orgasms.

Fun fact: when Wolverine blows his load, his claws come out. Another fun fact: he can shoot far enough to reach his chin, and maybe even a little further than that.

Things rev up to regular speed from there, chaos dialling right back up to 11.

“Ow! Not the fucking eyes, shit breath!”

[eternallyei]

What a long ride..

smut, lil angst, eren yeager x f!reader ~ +5,5k words

Casually sipping on his vape, Eren sits on the stairs, impatiently waiting for the bell to ring the end of his lovely prisoner’s class.

He takes a sip of smoke in and then blows it out, it feeds his brain just good enough to be honest. And even if smoking was prohibited inside the building, who is he to give a fuck about rules anyway.

He looks around, in case anyone catches him smoking inside the building, or report that he isn’t in class again. Not that he cares but he just wants to leave and not being held in the headmaster’s office for the uncountable hours of class he skips.

Let’s be honest and say Eren isn’t the best student in this university, he might even win if a 'worst student' contest occurred. He’s smart though, but not for class. Not at all, or he just doesn't even try.

He sighs, time seems so long when you want it to be fast, and he loses patience. He lasted twenty eight poor minutes before he feels the urge to take you out of class.

He slips his vape back in his vest pocket and goes to your class. Going up the stairs two by two, until aisle C, where he jogs to your class.

Windows give a sight enough reachable from his height to check whether you really care about the lesson or not. An airy laugh escapes him when he catches sight of you.

"exactly what i thought, you do not give a single fuck about whatever my man mr. Matsuoka is tryna explain"

You’re there, half listening half fighting against your eyes to not close. Leaning your head on your palm, and playing with your pen in your other hand.

Finally you look at the aisle windows and here is his head trying to sneak into the annoying hour you are going through. He blinks at you, shooting you a small malicious smile.

You frown nodding him to go away, when all of a sudden he disappears. You take a breath of relief before the class becomes silent.

knock knock

"come in!"

You hide behind your hands when Eren’s figure appears in the doorframe. Gosh Eren, don’t embarrass me, please..

"hello, um.. i’d like to borrow one of your students if you’d allow me"

The teacher raises an eyebrow in confusion. What the hell would be more important than attending his class after all ?

A sucker for the headmaster, Eren bets.

"yeah, i was told to bring her to big daddy’s office"

You pinch the bridge of your nose at his words while the whole class giggles. If only you had the ability to disappear, it would help right now.

Seriously Eren ? Big daddy’s office ??

He’s so stupid sometimes you wonder how he didn’t fail his years until now. The whole university have a crush on him even though he’s an idiot asshole and everyone giggles when he says his intrusive thoughts out loud. Having no shame to spit words like this in front of everyone is probably your biggest strength Eren i swear to god, you think.

"Yeager, you better stop fooling around before I send you to the headmaster myself !"

Eren holds back a laughter as he realizes the teacher understood who he was referring to, then he quickly continues.

"yeah yeah, anyway, can I ?"

"if he asked you to, go ahead."

In a split second, he locks eyes with you. Everyone turns around to look at you, not so surprised he came for you. The whole college knows Eren follows you around like a dog, whether he just walks next to you looking like a murderer or talks non stop while teasing you.

You look at him, clearly unamused by the situation he puts you in when he nods and gestures you to come.

"take your stuff.. just in case", he says, shooting a fake smile at the teacher.

You pack your stuff and greet the professor, uttering a small apology before leaving. Eren closes the door behind you and you walk down the corridor, thinking about what stupid plan he found again.

"don’t thank me"

"did not even think about it"

Getting down the stairs, you stop mid-way, making him look back up at you.

"we’re not heading to the headmaster’s office, are we ? where are you leading me again Eren ?"

"no, big daddy doesn’t really want to see your ugly face, sorry"

"Eren, fuck, stop being so dumb for gods sake"

"what ! what did i do again ?"

"big daddy ? seriously ?"

"you don’t like it ?"

"i don’t."

"'kay, whatever babe. can we go now ?"

"don't call me-"

"let’s go already, just trust me"

"that’s exactly the reason why i asked, you idiot”

“ugh.. fuck it, c’mhere"

He walks up the stairs, takes the handle of your backpack and throws it over his shoulder. He sighs.

"the fuck you think you’re doing, 'ren ?"

"learning you how to behave like a good girl"

You roll your eyes as he winks at you, clearly proud that he got to act stupid again, and tease you more. He bents down waist level, grabbing your legs to throw you over his shoulder too.

You tried to fight at least but you both know who’s stronger here.

As you arrived to the car, Eren sets you back to the floor, opens the passenger’s door and waves in circles like the clowns do i guess for you to get seated in the car.

You just stare at him, unsure however it’s one of the days he’s eager to gain that trust of yours or either it’s those days he ends up with some shitty tricks or plans with you.

He smiles at how undetermined you are to give him your trust and do as he pleases.

"c'mon, babe.. we’re not gonna wait here all day. get inside the car"

You give him your meanest side eye look and get seated in the car in silence while he holds eye contact.

"hhh.. thank you", he nods.

He slams the door back and gets seated in the driver seat. Puts his key in the car before everything lights up and the engine roars.

Eren fastens his seatbelt and looks at you

"seatbelt, miss"

And you do.

After some time, when you’ve reached the highway, your mind just wanders.

He really just made you skip classes to take you out ? Where even ? Couldn’t he just wait for your day to end ? It’s not your business if HE doesn’t want to go to school and have a diploma and.. whatever.

You roll your eyes again, Eren has just been conducting you to escape whatever responsible decisions you take.

It makes you think about back then where it all began, raised by not-so-legal parents, your dad barely home but enough to remind you how in danger you were from his enemies. When as much warning as he gave you, you still ended up being taken away from your sweet home.

Surrounded by a bunch of unhealthy individuals but only one stood out from the crowd, and it was Eren. He looked good and healthier for once, it felt reassuring, and yet again here he was the only one taking real care of you. Or even just giving a slight shit about you.

He spent time with you, learning how you worked around people, who you could bear with and who you couldn’t.

You were so thankful at first, because he acted so nice and irreproachable. His nice demeanor felt like you could at least feel some relief in having him as a friend or.. whatever.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long enough for him to show how irresponsible and childish he could be. Almost stalking you everyday at school, the only place you could go to outside the mansion. He went on asking you out here and there, while you try to decline but he never failed to make you say yes.

Well, to be very honest, let’s not say you’ve grown to have a crush on this dude because he would like it a bit too much but.. let’s still stay honest and say you actually do. You probably like his annoying ass at least a little. Barely a lot, as a secret.

Then again, here you are, going all in for one of his plan again, who knows what he’ll come up with this time and how awfully awkward it will be.

You turn your head to look at him, seeing he’s so focused on the road in front of him.

He’s just so fine, c’mon.

His defined hands that you admire so often, left hand firmly gripping the wheel while his right one stays on the gearbox. Notice how he’s still wearing all his jewelries, including the bracelet you offered him.

His toned chest peacefully rising up and down as if life wasn’t the biggest of his concerns at all, god.. he got you daydreaming in your seat right next to him. they must be heavy over his heart..

His hair tied up in a messy bun letting some strands escape and fall on his neck, as well as letting out some streaks of hair fall in front of his face. Do they never get in his eyes ?

His tongue licking wet his pinkish lips from time to time, and his eyes wandering on the road, aware of every details around him.

Those beautiful emerald eyes that keep fidgeting between cars and the road, before they snap at you.

You snap your head back to the window, acting like nothing happened as the blush invades your cheeks.

"i was wondering how long you’d check me out before i’d have to bring you out of your cunt.

it was actually pretty much of a long stare, babe.. i might think you like me more than you show it”

He’s so annoying, you even start to regret staring at him. Sometimes you just wish he’d choke on air.

"shut up, i was just looking around. the silence sounded way too unusual”

He laughed, way too entertained by your annoyance.

“where are we going, it’s been almost an hour you’ve been driving"

“chill, it’s been fifteen minutes, i’m just searching for a good place to stop"

"so you’re gonna abandon me in the middle of nowhere ?"

"Yes, smarty. order of the big master”

Eren keeps messing with you. You know damn well no one in that goddamn crew would dare take the risk to lose a so precious ressource. That gentle little girl is worth too much to lose.

Checking several times whether you’re looking or not, he puts a hand on your thigh, making you jolt in surprise. You try to push his hand away but his grip is just so tight and strong, it’s of no use. And whenever you ‘politely’ ask him to take his hand off your thigh, he gives no shit and only gets further and closer to your heat.

So at the end you just give up.

After a little moment of fighting with Eren in your head, he drives off to a resting point of the highway.

“what are you doing ? where are we ?”

“have you already fucked on the back seats of a car ?”

I’m sorry ?? your thoughts freeze for a split second, heart dropping from the stairs of a scale all the way to your stomach. It’s clear he’s not joking for once, he’s good at hinting but a very bad liar. You don’t know whether you wish you heard him right or whether you wish you never heard him at all but you also debate whether it’s his personal needs or the crew heads one.

The one time he had to not be flirting or teasing you, spending his time telling you dirty shits just to get you flustered… it had to be the time he finally mentions sex with you.

While he calmly parks the car, you try to clear things in your mind, trying to hide the obvious heat going all the way to your cheeks again.

I might be hearing hallucinations. Your thoughts just mix together, a part of you doesn’t want to have this conversation with him, but then again.. look at him, and look at you melting in your seat at some damn words.

Your poor stomach tightens as he takes a stop between the parking stripes.

Eren pulls on the handbrake and stays silent for a few seconds as you almost hold your breath next to him, the knock in your stomach feels so tight. Gosh, breathe, it’s.. good thing.

He looks around, some cars are parked farther down the lines, at least not next to his. And then he watches you, and how you stare at your feet, at whatever inexistant detail suddenly appeared to be interesting.

He giggles, as if the situation was hilarious.

"look who became so silent! you’re always opening your fucking mouth, hissing back at me when i say shit and now that i bring sex into light.. you’re quiet like never.

‘ssup kitten, cat caught your tongue ? mmh ?"

He tugs your hair behind your ear to have a better view of your face, and you try to pull back. He sits back in his seat, and clears his throat.

“sit your pretty ass in the back.”

“but..”

“that wasn’t a question, doll, i said sit your pretty ass in the back of this car.”

“Eren not here, please!”

“come on, nobody’s gonna see us”

A big sigh escapes your lips, why here ? You try to pull on the handle but to no avail, doors long closed by the moment you both fastened your seatbelt.

“let me step out”

“no, i’m not allowed to do that, you know that”

"then let me get to the backseats"

"sure, as you wish", he nods, before he unlocks the door for you.

You know this is like a beast playing with his feast before a meal, he’s so confident around you. Nearly stepping out, you thought maybe it was time to end your fugitive life after all. You mentally facepalm at how naive you sound, he knows every next step of yours.

You stand next to the car, pretending to be an obedient hostage for once in your career but your eyes wander around, trying to find a car who's about to leave where you can hop in.

Unfortunately, he knows you and steps out too, calling you out of your thoughts.

"hey, i know what you’re thinking about, don’t test me."

You stare at him, snapping your head back at some people farther back, walking towards their car. Who does he think you are to not try it out, huh ? Who’s the bad little bunny now, mmh ?

"hey, if you run away, i’ll fuck you right on the door in front of you for anyone who parks next to us to see. am i clear ?"

Sounds dissuasive enough, even if the car was hidden enough by wonderful mother nature.. but why not try though, it might work to run away. At least you won’t have to face those money and killing hungry men every morning again. It seems like a good deal, right ?

Heels spinning around before you start walking faster and faster, all to the strangers car, while Eren sighs yet again, not even bothering to run at this point. He knows you won't get a single chance with strangers on this road. Do you even know how many couples are fighting on runways ? How many pretty young women like you are taken away to satisfy needs ?

And here you are stumbling over your words at how to explain or tell them why you need them to take you anywhere safer than the woods. By the time you finally get to the point he already reaches you, putting his best actor mask on, proving you how good of a liar he can turn out to be.

"hello man, i’m sorry! she’s kinda lost, you know!

he stares into your lost eyes,

love, it's okay, c'mhere, i’m sorry for what I said, let’s go back home, ok ?

Eren takes a firm hold of your hand,

sorry for the inconvenience, you know how it is! have a nice road man!"

You couldn’t believe how ridiculously easy it was to get rid of these people like nothing happened, they probably couldn’t even speak your language.

"you know how big of troubles you could’ve just put me into ?

gonna hav’ta stick to my words..

you think i’m scared like you are.."

And just as he said, he pulled you by your wrist your chest hitting the right door of the car, smirking at your attempt to pull back and your voice echoing just to beg him to not do that. Not here, like that for everyone to see, please.

He squeezed his chest against you, making a sort of metal sound when your body hits the vehicle.

He makes you spread your legs with his knees and grabs your pantie under the poor skirt you were so happy to wear today. He takes it off, stuffing it in his pocket.

"if you continue breathing so heavy and fast, you might also fuck yourself on my cock, once i’m in, kitten"

Shut up. He loses no time before his fingers slide down your clit, making the heat come up to your cheeks and ears when you realise how wet you were already.

"look who’s dripping, i didn’t even touch you yet. is that how 'desperate' you are for it, mmh ?"

"fuck you"

He laughed, "no babe, fuck you"

He rubs circles over your clit, his boner pressed against your ass. You let out an airy moan at how sweet his fingers feel around your bundle of nerve.

He plays with you, while you debate in your head whether he plays better with your clit than you’ve done alone in your room, wishing it was him all this time.

He draws circles, slides up and down, writing his name over your clit, fast or slow, he decides. He was just enjoying that touch as much as you did personally.

His hands, that you spent hours watching, are between your thighs playing like you wish was his tongue. Eren rubs himself on your ass, trying to get some friction from the mere contact of your body, he's so hard, his cock twitches in his boxer already. Just thinking about being inside you makes him want to cum so bad.

He's as desperate as you, let’s be honest. He wants himself inside you as much as you're dying to feel his cock deep in your core.

Hearing metallic sounds from what seems like his belt, you close your eyes tight, trying to imagine anything, anywhere else you could be where no one would see you both right now. Within a second after his fingers left your clit, he slips in. Like he’s been waiting for this for ages.

His dick brushes every little part of your cunt, his hands grabbing your waist so hard it starts to burn. The tip of his cock stretches the way in enough for him to fit all in at once.

And surprisingly, it feels so good your eyes roll back and you're already moaning. Even with all the strength you could think of having, it's just so hard to hold back the lewd screams.

Your wetness helps his way in and he slides in and out with so less effort, he smacks his hips on yours, holding your waist tighter than ever to feel all of you.

Eren can’t even think straight, he’s pounding as fast as he can, as hard as he can, the car moves back and forth with his movements, and here you are, moaning and whining under his body for what seems like the best fuck you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t give any of a slight fuck about anything around him, he’s just so focused on the way he slides in and out of your pussy so easily. Sighing in pleasure, he keeps that stupid smirk on his face the whole time, he’s trying so hard to not be loud, muffled and breathy moans come out from his mouth, and the lewd sounds his cock makes, adds to this growing smirk.

Every thrust feels like you’re about to cum, you didn’t even realise you were squeezing him before he giggles in your ear. Your legs trembling from the pleasure and force he puts in his hips, you whine.

"'ren.. mh.. fuck, don’t- stop.."

"don’t worry, i won’t baby, i won’t until you squeeze the shit out of my cock"

Breath hitching and moan escaping in rhythm with every thrust, you’re trying to hold those stupid moans in but they just get out with your breath at how much his cock fills you up so well.

He pounds repeatedly against your hips, fucking your hole like he's been waiting for it for years, he’s so fucking hypnotised by the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his dick.

He fucks you fast, it almost hurts how deep he is inside you. It doesn’t last long before you’re moaning to let him know you’re at the end of it.

"i-i’m.. gon- mh.. cum 'ren"

He lets out a chuckle, letting you know how desperate and cock drunk you sound. It’s not even been a few minutes and you’re already close to cum. Emptiness hits, and the pounding stops.

Eren suddenly stops, his cock into your cunt not playing with your guts, before your walls would start spasming around him. You were just at the edge of your orgasm but he pulls out as fast as he got in.

"get in the car", he says, walking to the back of the car, hand waving for you to do the same.

It takes you a few seconds to get back on your feet and follow him. So easily, just like this, brain fucked..

Getting in the back, the head rest all the way down, his head thrown back, hair undone falling over his shoulder, he’s there waiting for you. Waiting for you to come and sit on him like a good girl.

At this point you don’t even care if he’s gonna make fun of how desperate you were for his dick, your core feels just so empty.

You get on top of him, hugging him as tight as you can and sit.

"hey hey hey, who said you could sit", he slaps.

The slap makes you flinch, you sit up, holding your ass up while he gets ready. He throws his shirt over his head, and slides down a little on the seat, grabbing your waist.

You'd be lying if you said something else was on your mind at this moment, other than him.

He has you hypnotised and completely drunk on him, his eyes feel heavy as hell on you, and your hands already go for his chest while you're still free for touch.

He grabs your wrists, bringing them to hold his dick. He sighs at the feeling of your soft hands around him, and smiles as he throws his head back again. His gaze glued to yours, keeping an eye on your pretty face. Sliding your hands up and down his wet cock, while you wish it was you going up and down on him again, Eren breathes heavily, holding that unbearable eye contact.

The urge to kiss him is also unbearable, his red lips forming that stupid looking smirk make it so hard to resist from devouring his mouth, but you're too proud to show him how weak you become when it comes to him.

Feeling every vein around his cock tracing your hands under your movements, he curses. Grabbing tightly your thighs as they become red from the violence he was doing to them. Sliding down his length where it stops at his balls and going back up, rubbing circles around the tip already red and ready to paint you. You lean in, placing kisses under his collarbone, although you know it's weak of you but it's so hard to not give in and not taste his skin. He looks so fucking hot like this.

Your eyes following down, watching how his cock never disappears even if you use both hands, debating whether your hands are too small or whether he’s really that big. How did it even fit inside you to begin with ?

He scoffs, watching every little facial expression you make while watching how you’re getting him off.

"’kay enough, now sit", he breathes.

So eager to finally sit on him, you quickly get closer to him and line up over his cock. Grabbing a nice handful of his hair, and when you’re ready you put your arms around his neck and clench your fists when his cock slides right back in. Fuck, it feels just so good..

"good girl"

His voice echoes in your ear it sends shivers down your spine. If only you could just sit on his face for once, maybe he’d stop talking shit with that pretty fucking voice of his while he’s at it.

"fuuck.. Eren!"

After a few minutes of feeling empty, he just feels so big, bigger than when you were pressed on the car back there. It makes your eyes squeeze shut from the stretch again, whining in his ear. You just don’t want this to stop, starting to move your hips back and forth before he stops you.

"hey, shh shh, slow down little one. i’m the one deciding whether you can move or not.

He smirks, searching for your eyes.

you would run away from me minutes ago and now look who’s so impatient to be dumb fucked, huh ?"

You feel so ridiculous, it’s so stupid how you were repeating to yourself how never will you ever fuck anyone in this clan, more so how much you hated Eren and his bratty demeanor, and now look who’s begging him to fuck you deep and nasty. He might just have turned you into a brainless fucking whore.

Before doing anything he yanks you down entirely on his length, canceling any of the small centimeters you didn’t even think about getting inside anymore. You swear it’s about to tickle your stomach if this doesn’t end, and just when you start to adjust, Eren grabs your waist harshly and starts guiding you up and down on his cock, playing with you as he pleases. Once he makes it slow and precise, once he makes it fast and stupidly deep, making the impact echo inside the vehicle. He could finally use you as his personal little fuck toy.

You moan, it feels so fucking wrong but so fucking good at the same time, your eyes cross and it makes him giggle as usual. His eyes still glued to your face, never missing any of your reactions. It feels so good, and he sees it, he feels it by the way you squeeze his arm, how you’re leaving marks on his skin and who even cares, at least he can finally tease you about how much of a whore you can be when you’re around him, on him. Even after all this time refusing, insulting and despising every piece of his crew’s methods.

Your head falls on his shoulder and you can’t help but melt in his arms, letting your collarbone bend, refusing to hold the posture, it’s just too much for your brain to process the feeling there. It’s absolutely not what you were picturing as 'what fucking with Eren' was, you were actually far from there.

It’s fucking deep and hard, and again just when you feel you’re about to lose it, he stops. Earning a whine from you, and your hips trying to move under his strong grip.

"no, no, no, Eren! please!"

“shh, it’s alright, catch your breath kitten, you’re panting."

He says giving you that fake asshole worried look, searching for your eyes again. He slides his hand up in your hair, pulling your head back to have a better view of your mid-conscious face.

He laughs, you look so pathetic and he got what he wanted from you after all this time. He leans in for a small taste of your neck where he kisses and bites your skin. Please not the hickeys. He slowly and slightly brushes your back with his other hand, before he ends up squeezing you close to him.

He bites and kisses up your jaw, your cheek and looks at you again before he pulls in for a kiss on those pretty reddish fucking lips of yours.

“Ohh how many times have I got a boner by just imagining the taste of your lips.. fuck”

Eren sighs, you don’t even bother reacting to his teasings, how many times have you imagined it too..

He uses the firm grip he got on your hair to kiss you and slide his tongue in your mouth, kissing you nice and harsh. You turn into a puppet in his hands, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. He smiles, enjoying that kiss a little too fucking much.

You unconsciously move your hips once, signalling him he’s still inside and you want him. Fuck it, fuck me, that’s what i want.

He stops your moves, unbuttoning that pretty shirt you wear, sliding the tissue of your bra down your tits enough for him to free them. As soon as they pop out, he’s on it. Pinching and rubbing circles around your nipple while the other is harassed by his mouth. He bites, licks and kisses the edge of your nipples, making you jolt and tighten around his cock when it gets too good.

He has you firm between his arms, leaving you no escape from his sweet torture, finally moving your hips over him. His lips bullying your tits like he has been craving for it over ages again.

The grip he has on your waist, leads him to search that perfect spot inside you, forcing his cock deep inside your cunt. Your hips move back and forth over his shaft and while he sucks on your tits, here it is.

"ah! fuck!"

Eren shots his head up to look right into your eyes.

"yeah ? right there ?"

"yeah..", you sigh.

"right there huh ?"

You frantically nod in response.. yeah, it’s the spot and be ready for him to memorize it, for.. ulterior purposes. He hits his hips up and down using every motion, possibility and strength he has to reach that g-spot over and over until you cum.

Your pornographic moans feeding his soul right next to his ear, it feels like your mind is going blank at how his rubbing on that spot so well.

"a-ah..ngh! Er-!"

"yeah ? right there ? gonna cum f’me, yeah ?

be a good girl and cum on my cock.

c’mon big girl."

You fall forward, losing your strength of holding your back straight again, it’s almost hilarious how you seem so blank and manipulated by him. Yeah, you hate him, but how long can you last before you lose your mind and feel addicted to the feeling of this cunt harassment ? How long can you last, bouncing on his dick so desperate, before you admit you spend hours fucking your pillows at night while moaning his name under your breath ?

His perfume gets right up to your brain as he gets faster and faster, punching that fucking spot inside you with the pinkish tip you were rubbing just minutes ago.

He fucks you deep, bullying your walls with his veins and mushroom tip, he wants to cum inside you so bad, so so bad.

The orgasm grows inside you more and more, and Eren knows. He repeats sweet dirty things in your ears while you feel like you’re gonna cum any time soon.

"yeah, see how we fuck pretty fucking whores like you, mmh ?

i’m gonna fill you up so well, you better not waste a single drop of my precious cum, 'derstand ?

fuck.. this feels good, mmh ? show me how it feels, let me hear it."

He’s just so fucking loud for fucks sake.

"shut- up, oh my- god.. don’t s-top.."

"beg.", he stops

"fuck.. pl-ease Eren, don’t s-top.. pl-uhh"

"that’s right, good girl."

Why does he even love that pet name so much ? He can’t stop now anyway. He’s too pussy drunk too to actually think about stopping his movements. He fucks his dick in and out of you at an inhuman pace at this point. He just wants to cum too at the end.

Before he even has the time to fuck you a little bit more into your orgasm, you moan loud enough to make everyone around the car know you both are fucking, as he lets out a moan too.

He moans, airy or low toned, he does as it comes out, he feels even better, not that you weren’t already tight enough for him to risk cumming from the first pull but the way your walls spasm around him tickles the veins and tip of his cock so well.

Eren is so close to cum, everything feels so right from the way you sit and bounce on his cock like a good little whore, to the way you moan his name as loud as you used to yell how much of a piece of shit he is.

"Eren.. please"

"just a little more, kitten.."

Few thirst left and he’s spilling his cum inside you, making it drip down your thighs, mixing with your cum following close after him. A bunch of loads, feeling up the entirety of your core and he just can’t stop fucking his semen back inside you.

"we’re not gonna waste any drop, yeah ?

who’s fault is it gonna be if you end up making the back seats dirty, mmh my little prisoner ?"

Quick enough he slows down his thirsts and gets his breath back. Hands all over you, helping your head up, catching your gaze through the mist of your teary eyes. He tugs your hair back behind your ear. He giggles, seeing how fucked out you look. You really do look wasted, and yet not even a drop of alcohol or drug was spilled in your blood, only his cum.

He presses a kiss on your lips.

"let’s get back on road, babe, I have to drop you off before they start wondering where you’re at."

He lifts you up from his cock after a minute of recovering, letting you drop off on the seat next to him. It takes you a few second before you finally get up and come back to your senses.

He hands you your pantie, tugged in the back pocket of his jeans, and you quickly put it back on.

Everything is so weird to talk casually when you get back on road. He stays silent for once and his eyes swings between you and the road more often. Eren is mostly just so proud he proved you wrong about you hating him, you’re down bad, you daydream about him nonstop and now you can’t even try to lie to him anymore. It’d be pointless. Now you’re his anyway, all for him to use.

He knows how he makes you feel on a daily basis, he knows so well all your eye rolls are to hide the fact that he makes you feel giggly. He knows how all the mean words you say to him sound like a ‘fuck me, i’m begging you’. He knows you too well now.

Now all you’re wondering is how you're gonna make it through the night, sleeping or replaying that fuck scene over and over in your head until you find something to hate him about again.

Leaving his car when he’s parked in front of the mansion, you stay quiet all the way to your room door where he escorts you.

You both barely talk a word, only a small good night and an awkward eye contact, his eyes staring right back at you with a small smirk again.

Eren huffs when you close the door, turning around to join his own room soon enough.

"i might be an asshole sometimes and she might be stubborn as fuck but.. damn she moaned my name louder than i expected her to", he scoffs.

He's such an asshole.

well.. that’s a bit more like it.

yeah, i know that’s a lot of f word uses oopsies

im so unsure abt this one, mc was supposed to be kidnapped at first and still able to go to school thats why she wanted to escape but.. whatever i guess we still like his pretty fucker ass.

anyway, hope you like it [:

(i tried to rewrite some parts so dont mind if theres a problem somewhere loll)

@eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.