#they’re a little chilly sometimes

[trollbreak]

< thinking abt my evil ghost lady

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[slowdivinqs]

Magnetism

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel photo by dinasawrus on pinterest, banners by cafekitsune

Summary: Having a steamy make out session behind the Tipsy Bison with a certain soft spoken Texan.

Warnings: 18+! There’s NO actual smut, just the make out session. Hidden relationship vibes ( they don’t wanna be caught ). Images in the header are just for aesthetic purposes. Subby Joel vibes but also not, we got a mix of both. Soft!Joel and Jackson!Joel. Can imagine either Pedro or Game Joel.

A/N: I’m back! I was so shocked by the love on my last fic, thank you so much! This one is really rushed and quick - the idea came to me because of a reel on instagram. Yeah.

Do not copy or repost my fics anywhere! No AI bots either, I will find you

Tommy’s put on Alice In Chains again for the fifth time Tonight.

Joel groans against you, but not like how he’s been groaning for the past 20 minutes. He’s irritated this time.

“Goddamnit. Someone oughta knock him over the head.” Joel mutters breathily, scowling at the back entrance to the bar like Tommy will sense his ire through the exposed brick and wood.

You take the time to admire his roused hair. Your head hits the outside wall of the Tipsy Bison with a soft thump, and your eyes are hazy and heavy from the sight of the man in front of you.

Joel Miller. Thee scary, grumpy, tense, asshole, tommy’s-goddamn-brother Joel Miller.

He’s a sight to behold. Flushed cheeks and, cutely, ears. Messy hair from your fingers and unbuttoned collars of typical flannel shirts.

All because you’ve been kissing him. Like teenagers, actually.

You’re not sure why you’re still standing outside the bar in the chilly air instead of being buried under his warm body screaming his name.

Well, that’s a lie. You do know.

It’s the sound he makes when his lips caress yours, the little sharp intake of air through his nose as he tilts his head to the side; nose poking your cheek. The way he groans as you bite his plump bottom lip when you dance your tongue back and forth with his.

The way he holds your waist like you’re all he’s ever wanted like he’s a man obsessed, possessed. Whatever you want to call it.

Your hands come up to rest just under his jaw, cupping behind his ear, and feel his hair tickling the tips of your fingers - guiding him back to look at you.

“Pearl Jam sounds the same sometimes,” you say to him, looking at his kiss swollen lips.

“You must be losin’ your hearin’, darlin’ girl.”

He looks drunk. Not just from Seth’s conspicuous beer, but from your kisses. His eyes are soft-blown wide, locking onto your eyes with a haziness that implies they actually want to flutter shut like they have been doing the moment your lips touch. His eyebrows are semi-lifted, not set in their usual, gravity-demanding scowl.

You run your thumb over his jaw, pulling him back to you so lightly it seems like magnetism. His brows furrow, eyes give in and flutter before he’s molding his lips against yours like it’s a drug. Groaning against your mouth as he rests his clenched fist on the wall just above your head. His other hand coming up to the soft skin underneath your jaw.

The sound of you kissing - the little smack and strangely erotic sound of salivating mouths moving together. His soft moans and heavy breaths pushing against your skin as a huff.

You don’t blame him, you feel drunk on this too.

The weight of your arms feels heavier when you lift them to wrap around Joel’s shoulders. Those damn, broad shoulders. You can feel the muscle of them along that soft inner part of your forearms, Can feel them shift and move as he leans in closer to wrap his arms around your waist and leave no atoms between you, his lips against yours like a lifeline - like it kills him every second they’re not.

He fucking moans when you grip the awkward-length hair on his nape.

You’re broken out of the haze by your screaming lungs, pulling away with a wet smack as you pant. Your fluttery eyes - damn it’s contagious - see your breath move through the cold air. The image of how your make-out must’ve looked from the third person, big bad Joel Miller kiss-drunk and desperate - your panting breaths mingling in the air around your faces as you two make kissing seem like something that is as erotic as straight sex outside of the Jackson bar.

You feel the arousal zing through your body before it drips out of you.

His scruff nuzzles against your neck, leaving the same burn you feel around your lips and cheeks. Everything is tingly.

“Joel, someone is going to come out here,” you whisper into the chill. Those lips of his don’t stop their sloppy caress of your neck, making you turn in his direction and try to contain a little noise you know will make him reckless.

He whines - whines - against your neck, not stopping his ministrations, only pulling back to kiss you again, eat you like it’s what he’s been waiting for his whole life.

“Then come back to my place“ he murmurs, but he’s lost in the haze. Almost as if he’s finally reached that hazy high from your mouth that he keeps coming back for.

You melt into him again, pulling him closer until you can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours. He’s practically a wall you’re holding onto. Breathing in and molding your mouth around.

There’s a loud squeak and a bang as the bar door opens and knocks against the wall, your hands are still around Joel’s neck as you both look over in surprise. Moments later Tommy’s thrown out right on his ass, which makes Joel laugh immediately.

Tommy looks over with a scowl before looking back to his friends who threw him out.

“C’mon guys!” he huffs, still on the ground

“You’re banned from the jukebox.” Seth grumbles before slamming the door right in Tommy’s face.

It looks like Tommy might go rogue, start a revolution against dictatorship of jukeboxes, but ultimately decides to take his comical frustration out on Joel.

Tommy turns to look at the both of you. Joel is still chuckling slightly, wiping the corner of his eye, still standing right up against you.

“Shut up. You’re busy suckin’ face when I needed backup.” Tommy huffs, wiping stones and dirt off his ass, grumbling to himself, glaring at the door - similarly to his brother - like he could take control of the jukebox with his mind and play Alice In Chains again like a poltergeist.

“Priorities, brother.”

Tommy lovingly gives Joel the finger, before grumbling and walking home, a hand on his probably bruised backside.

Tysm for reading! If you enjoyed pls lmk as well as reblogging! ◡̈

Tags:

[enoe-of-noen]

An Mc who is warm

It’s cold down in the Devildom, why wouldn’t those closest to Mc use them as their very own portable heater?

☞ Established relationships, lots of words

Lucifer

Taking full advantage.

Steals Mc away on certain exhausting nights when the breeze is harsh. The scratching of branches raking the glass.

Loves to have you on his lap for maximum warmth.

Maybe, after he’s done with this pile, can you join him in bed?

Please take the offer. He won’t ask twice, but he really needs it.

When Mc finally agrees, after a bit of teasing, they’ll gladly snuggle in the eldest’s arms.

During the day, Lucifer makes it a point to have his hand on Mc whenever they see each other.

Whether it’s a holding theirs for a kiss, a hand on their shoulder, a hand in their hair, a hand on their cheek, etc.

Since he wears gloves, he finds it most effective to hug them briefly before leaving them to their activities.

Mammon

He’s grabsy

“My human!”

“Yoink!”

Mc is always stolen away by him at any. Given. Moment.

They’re never safe from his grasp.

Never.

Mammon’s hands are all over Mc!

In their hair, under their shirt massaging their back, on their cheeks, on their thighs, on their hips, whatever he feels like

He loves hugging Mc from behind

“Mmn, warm, warm for me.” He cooes

“Mams. I have to go.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Fym nuh uh?!”

Mc will not be leaving his grasp any time soon~

Leviathan

Wow! Humans are really warm!

“Mc, Mc! I hope this isn’t too much to ask but, can you…sit here, while I game tonight?”

Levi pointed at his lap, blushing furiously.

This is embarrassing, isn’t it?

Is it too much?

Is it too weird?!

He won’t worry too long though, it is pretty chilly tonight and Mc is down to cuddle <3

Loves feeling their hands on his cheeks, squeeze them a bit if you wanna~

Hisses softly whenever he feels their warm hands, always accompanied by a cute smile

Hides his face under Mc’s chin, having easy access to their collarbone

Prefers Mc touching him rather than him touching them most days

Lets him know he’s loved and that Mc wants to be there for him

In public, he’ll always be holding their hand

Satan

Kisses their palm whenever they go to touch his cheeks.

Feel free to use him as a chair, he absolutely loves the warmth and attention.

Pets Mc like a cat, playing with their hair.

“Just a second longer, dear,” he hums.

“You said that 30 minutes ago,” Mc grumbles, feeling stiff.

Satan laughs whenever you complain.

Doesn’t stop his arms snaking their way around your waist though.

“Good book, at least?” Mc looks at the book in Satan’s free hand.

“Very much so.” He grins.

Otherwise around in the Devildom, Satan always lends a hand for Mc to hold.

His hands get chilly easily~

Asmodeus

Y’all already know~

All over you, all the time!

I mean, who wouldn’t be down here?~

Your hands are easiest to access of course.

You have such nice hands to hold, hon~ <3

Loves it <33

Surprise hugs! Tight ones, might I add.

Humans sure are cuddly, I love it!!~

No moment together is spent apart by any means.

Hands, hair, hips, arms, cheek-to-cheek even!

You’ll never feel alone with Asmo around, that’s for sure!

Definitely gives Mammon a run for his money

Beelzebub

Best hugger around totally not biased

Loves when Mc is able to face him, that way he can feel their breath

A little reminder they’re alive

Besides, gives him easy kissing access which is also warm in temperature

Always at Mc’s side; they radiate heat in the cold, dark Devildom

Loves resting his hand on their stomach, it’s the second warmest part of their body!

Whenever they’re sitting on the couch, Beel makes it a point to get between Mc’s thighs

It is so incredibly warm

He doesn’t care that he gets stares, it’s too comfy not to do

Belphegor

His naps have transcended

He is blessed to have Mc down in the Devildom with him

Uses you more like a weighted blanket sometimes

Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles

Always slumps over Mc’s shoulder in public or when he’s too sleepy

Instant smile on his face, even if for a split second

“Belphie?”

“You’re warm.”

“…fine.”

Free head pats for being cute! That’s a win for Belphie!

His hands often travel

Maybe too much

This devious little shit

Diavolo

“Dearest Mc!”

Makes it a habit to ruffle your hair whenever he passes by.

You emit so much heat that he can feel it just by petting your scalp.

Humans are fascinating!

Whenever Mc gets to stay over at the castle, he adores resting his head on their lap.

Mc admits the slight bedhead he gets from it is adorable.

Big arms give big hugs!

Get hugged at the most unexpected moment, Mc! Hahaha!

Always catches Mc off guard (unlike with the brothers)

Barbatos

Busy man, unfortunately. Not many opportunities for him to appreciate your warmth.

However, when he does, his hands travel.

Skillfully removing his gloves desperately.

Your skin is soft under his.

“How about a massage, Mc?” He’ll offer.

Easiest way of feeling your warmth without too much creepiness.

Such a calming atmosphere.

How can one resist the temptation?

Simeon

It was difficult moving from the Celestial realm to the Devildom at first.

Until, of course, he met Mc.

Gloves on, gloves off, doesn’t matter.

Holds hands, hands in hair, hands on shoulder.

Seems to instinctively lean on Mc.

Mc found it weird but more endearing the closer they got.

Touches go both ways, Simeon giving way more access.

Surprisingly, having come somewhat recently from the Celestial realm, Mc also feels warm back.

A win-win situation!

Solomon

A little sappy to admit, but your warmth makes him feel so…human.

Reminds him of times he’d relax, longing for human interaction.

He’d gone so long without it, forgetting he was one himself.

Tears up when the thoughts get him late at night.

He’ll always have an arm wrapped around either your shoulder or waist.

Please keep close.

You give him so much just by being warm, his heart pounds.

No matter if his facade of being the all powerful wizard crumbles slightly, he’ll be human with you.

He is human with you.

Luke

Luke is clinging onto you everywhere!

Like a cute little koala

Holding onto your leg (if you’re tall enough)

Loves being carried by you (if you can), gets to snuggle real close

Holds your hand like a child being led by their parent

Reminds him of the warmth in the Celestial realm

Easily got close with you, no questions asked

Just a little bundle of joy!

Raphael

Despite not being seen around together often, Raphael makes an effort to offer his touch.

Being quite new and unfamiliar with the Devildom, he’s also unfamiliar with its coldness.

“Hello, Mc. I know this is an odd request, but may I hold your hand?”

If he absolutely needs it, he doesn’t see the problem with calling upon his heavenly spears.

Watch yourself, Mc.

Mephistopheles

Ah, Mc.

Whenever he sees you around, he enjoys the heat you radiate.

Oh, come closer. The students here are quite dangerous.

That’s a ploy.

He just wants contact. You’re very warm, you know?

Thirteen

Flamboyantly steals you away, as any great trickster would!

Never a quiet moment with her, whether it be her inventions or her rambles, you’ll love it

If not, she can take a hint

Touch, touch, touch! Blush, blush, blush! You are now her big fat crush!

Be honored, human, hahaha!

Can’t believe humans could be so warm!

A treasure to hold and keep!

Mine!

Often has to fight for it

Which is totally worth it when she wins

Don’t know the last three well, so yeah. Hope you enjoy. This took way longer than it should’ve.

[e-nonsense]

Congrats on getting 2k followers!

I would like to request hydrangea (srry if I got it wrong, my memory sucks) + string + "wish you loved me just as much as you loved her (kory)" !

LOVER OF NOT MINE

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. angst

prompts used. “wish you loved me just as much as you loved her.”

you could see the difference in the way he looked at you and her. dick could try to deny it, promise you that he and kory were done, but god you could see through him. the stupid looks of pity that his friends sent your way.

and that’s when the doubts started forming in your mind. how could you compare to her. kory was a princess, from another planet. an alien princess and you… you were just you.

a normal person, who lives a normal life. no vigilante tendencies, you had your load of trauma but who doesn’t?

was it you? were you too boring for him? too normal?

this “outing” as he’d called it had confirmed everything you were feeling. he’d dragged you along against your will, you hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid vigilante/superhero/anti-hero get together at some bar.

the second you’d arrived he kissed your cheek to make his way to kory, her eyes lit up at the sight of him as they hugged, his hands lingering on her hips a lot longer than they ever did yours.

what were you going to do now? you didn’t know anyone here, so you sat at the free spot at the end of the bar, alone and disappointed. it’d been half an hour now, and he hadn’t even spared a glance in your direction yet, too busy listening to whatever stupid nonsense was coming out of kory’s mouth.

honestly you looked too pretty to be left behind like this, you wanted to just go home. you didn’t have the car keys though, dick insisted that he drive the two of you there.

maybe that was his plan, keep you trapped here, watching him and kory so you’d know where you stood in this relationship. you felt that lump in your throat get heavier, you couldn’t walk home. not in fucking bludhaven, this place was nearly as bad as gotham — wait, they’re leaving.

together?

you froze in your seat as they walked past the bar, he’d forgotten you were here, you could tell by the way his eyes focused on her completely.

you should’ve stayed home. guess you’re gonna be walking home after all.

people didn’t pay you any mind as you slipped past them and out onto the chilly streets where you could catch a glimpse of dick’s car speeding away from the bar.

you felt sick. scared and sick. bag clutched as you walked tensely, head low to avoid anyone’s gaze. the dark made the city look a little peaceful, but everyone knew that was far beyond the truth.

you distantly hear a few whistles calling out to you but those men make no move to pursue you either. so you kept walking until you reach the entrance of you apartment building, you stepped in as quickly as you could, pressing the elevator button a few times, impatiently.

the door dinged as it opened, you shivered as you stepped in, pressing the button of the floor you lived on, it was times like this you were glad you hadn’t moved in with dick.

you didn’t bother changing when you crawled into bed, kicking your heels off at the door, greeted by your cat meowing at you and following you to bed.

at least someone was acknowledging you, your little companion jumped up onto the bed, taking the side dick usually would most nights with a purr as he tried to get as close to you as possible.

you couldn’t hold it back anymore, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you curled up. eventually, sometime past 11pm you passed out. you had exhausted all your tears and just given up.

it’s only at 1am that dick comes looking for you. his key to your place jingled softly enough to not stir you as he opened the door, barging through and going straight for your bedroom, the noise startling both you and your cat awake.

you let out a noise something between a scream and a cry and your cat hisses as the sight of dick. he’d never liked your ‘boyfriend’ in the first place, maybe you should’ve trusted his instincts.

“sweetheart, i’m so sorry.”

the apology is the first thing that slipped from his tongue and it all came back to you.

“i lost track of time and—”

“where were you?” you ask, throat sore from your crying, he could see the dried tear stains on your cheeks and he knew he’d messed up past what was forgivable.

he’d left you alone, in a room of strangers with no way home.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes dropping to the floor and you notice the disheveled way his hair sat, collar covered in the same shade of lipstick kory had been wearing, and if you looked close enough there’d be a matching stain on his lips.

you didn’t need this. “get out.”

you gave him no time to argue, standing up and shoving a box of his stuff into his arms. things you’d collected in your state of sad anger, the box contained his clothes, random little trinkets he’d brought along, gifts he’d brought you — never anything expensive just stuffed animals and cards.

“can’t we talk about this?” he pleaded and failed as shoved him further.

“no, if you want kory so badly. then have her, but don’t drag me along to play the fool.”

he winces at your retort, shame settling in his bones.

“is it me?” you cant help but ask, “why can’t you love me as much as you love her? wish you loved me just as much as you love her.”

he’s starting to really wish he’d left the first time you asked — told him to.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, “but she… me and her, we..”

“just leave, i don’t want to see you again, dick.”

he doesn’t fight it, he doesn’t have the right anymore does he. his heart sinks when he closes your bedroom door behind him and he can hear the way you break down, trying to keep quiet.

you deserved to know but he’d never tell you, it was never real. you and him, you were just a sweet innocent girl he was using to get his ex back, and it worked. now he’ll move on and leave you to suffer the consequences.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[mournings-stars]

hazbin characters wrapping their wings around you headcanons

based on this lil idea

lucifer

he would literally keep you wrapped in his wings all night — all day if he could

this is definitely one of his favorite ways to show intimacy like he loves having you close to him; touching him, relying on him, holding him. it makes him feel so close to you, how could he not love it?

the minute this man sees you even shiver he’s wrapping his wings around you “are you cold?” doesn’t matter what you say, you’re already wrapped in his wings

whenever you fall asleep next to him, he just drapes his wings over you as a warm, feathery blanket, watching you relax with a smile

if you were to curl into his wings or hug them closer, he’s already planning your future (then he’s also trying not to make a sound that would wake you up cus i just know his wings are sensitive)

now if you used a blanket instead of his wings, he’d definitely start to wonder if he did something, but if you seemed uncomfortable, shifting and turning, he’d cautiously drape his wings over you and make him melt with how quickly you settled

if you said something like “i didn’t want to inconvenience you by asking” he’d just put his wings around you anyway and tell you to go back to sleep with a reminder you could never inconvenience him

if you do ask him, he’s trying his hardest not to swoon like… “i’m a little chilly, is it okay if—“ and he’s already (literally) got you covered

if you’re in public and someone looks at you the wrong way, best believe he’s using his wings to pull you to his side and drape over you without even acknowledging that other demon

this is literally second nature for him he loves things like this (anything for his love)

vaggie

so if this was vaggie in heaven, she’d probably be reluctant to do it

like she’s a soldier! she can’t just let someone curl up in her wings!

but she does…

see, if you’re alone, sitting together on the couch or something, her wings are wrapped around you and they are not moving

she will literally fall asleep like that

if we’re talking hell vaggie, she’s always ready to wrap her wings around you and protect you

someone she doesn’t trust is in front of you? she’s pushing you behind her and wrapping her wings around you

you need comfort? her wings are wrapped around you while her hands are holding yours

i think vaggie also uses her wings to give you both some privacy

if you lean in for a kiss, she’s shielding you with her wings so she can kiss you how she wants

she’s a lover girl i just know she is

and she loves when you touch her wings (yes theyre probably sensitive too but she can control herself unlike some people) so if you’re sleeping together, her wings around you, and you wake up first you never push her wings off of you

sometimes you’ll just sit and run your fingers over them, feeling them stretch around you until she woke up and used her wings to pull you closer with a smile

yes she can make her wings appear and disappear, but whenever you’re around they’re out since she knows you like them

and if you ask her to wrap them around you, she’ll first make sure you’re alright but then, of course, give you what you asked for

for heaven vaggie i think itd grow on her but for hell vaggie she’d already love it and it’d just make her feel so much closer to you

husk

okay husk is definitely the kind of guy to use is wings to stop you from walking into traffic or some shit (or even walking toward alastor)

he’s more of a “put his wing in front of you if someone looks at you wrong” kinda guy

overlord husk would definitely have you under his wing for protection from anyone trying to gamble with him

if anyone tried to bargain with him for you/your attention, he’s got his wing out in front of you (and he’s taking their soul)

if theres a brawl going on, he’ll shield you with his wings while he deals with it cus theres no way he’s letting anything happen to you (and since he knows he’ll win, there’s no way he’s letting any blood get on you either)

now when he’s asleep is when he’s not in control of what his wings do (or he his just subconsciously)

his wings would be draped over you — and if you just so happened to fall asleep first with a blanket, that blanket would somehow magically disappear and you’d wake up in the morning with his wings as a much softer alternative

if you got up in the middle of the night you best believe he’s waking up and waiting for you to get back before falling right back asleep when you do with his arm and wing over you

now if you asked him to drape his wings over you, he’s 100% doing it without question. anything you want, no complaints

husk may be a private guy but he’s very caring

adam

now this man is 1000% percent used to wrapping you up in his wings

you’ll somehow end up having office sex and he’ll have to wrap his wings around you when someone walks in, masking it as polishing his feathers

he’d start doing this when you were alone, finding it so much more intimate (but also secretive and more arousing)

whenever he wants a kiss, he’s wrapping his wings around you so you can’t get away (not that you’d want to)

if he’s teasing you, he’s got his wings wrapped around you, mocking you for liking it so much and then using the privacy of his wings to dote on you, whispering sweet nothings and peppering kisses on your face (before he goes right back to being an ass)

if you even try to use a blanket over his wings, he’s the most pissy, butthurt man in all of heaven “want me to fluff them up for you or some shit? what’s this about?” and it’d slowly morph into “are you mad at me?” then “so… you want to break up” and you’d have to talk him down until you were safely wrapped in his wings

if you fell asleep before he got home, under a blanket, he’d literally just get rid of the blanket and wait for you to curl into him, sleepily grabbing for a blanket and giving him the perfect opportunity to stretch out his wings and watch you burry yourself beneath them

now if you grab his wings at all, he’s waking you up because he can’t handle that “what’d i tell you about touching my wings, babe?” (but you’d grab them again anyway)

if you ask him to put his wings around you in public, he’ll deny it because he’s so off guard that his sensitive wings could not handle wrapping around you without taking you home (of course as soon as you got home he’d apologize and give you what you wanted)

now you just ask out of the blue to see his wings involuntarily fluff and stretch and watch him choke on his words

if you asked when you were alone he’d be happy to oblige

sometimes you’d walk down the promenade and he’d just put his wing over you to make sure everyone knew who you were

after a gig, same thing, no one is getting near you

adam is a little bit inept when it comes to romance, but this definitely makes up for it

lute

under no circumstances is she wrapping her wings around you absolutely not

okay maybe

okay definitely

you’re sleeping? obviously, you needed a blanket (you definitely didn’t purposely not get one) and her wings were perfect for that

watching a movie? well, she doesn’t want to sit on her wings so obviously she just needs to stretch them out. it’s not her fault you’re sitting next to her

you’re reading? you like to be cozy and she couldn’t find a blanket to give you so her wings are the next best thing (or best thing really)

don’t even think about asking for it though, she will stop…. for like three days then go right back to doing it cus she misses you

and she does not like the fact that you’re under some blanket because she just knows it’s not warm

yes. she would be jealous of a blanket.

she hides the blankets but so do you so its okay

now theres no chance in hell she’s putting her wings anywhere near you in public

….good thing you’re in heaven!

if someone is a little too friendly, she’s stretching her wings out then using one to pull you close before walking away with a sour look on her face and dragging you with her

she also uses her wings to stop you from doing things, but if you move them out of the way she’s gotta stop herself from doing something

don’t touch her wings… seriously don’t. she wont know what to do with herself and you’ll have a serious problem on your hands (maybe a clingy problem depending on the day)

now say both of you are exorcists, she’s definitely using her wings to protect you. there’s a sinner trying to fight back? she’s darting to you, wrapping her wings around you, and getting rid of that sinner faster than you can blink

and in that last battle??? she’s not letting you anywhere near that shield, keeping you behind her with her wings shielding you. once its gone, she’s slaughtering anyone that gets near you and using her wings to move you out of the way, keep you close, or take blows for you (i just know once lute cares about someone she’s protecting them with her life cus she refuses to lose anyone)

once you get home she’s got you wrapped up in her wings and holding you close

if you’re not an exorcist, she’s doing this after every extermination — there’s no way she’s letting you go and she’ll fall asleep like that before you even get the chance to talk about it, or worse get up and leave her (and she is not talking about it the next day so don’t bother trying, she’ll just ignore you and hand you a blanket… before getting jealous later)

and if you hold her back, you can feel her wings flutter while she sleeps, folding in and pulling you impossibly closer

(i love this mean little angel u guys)

[avocado-writing]

pairing: logan howlett x afab!reader. 18+, minors dni. fluff; smut (p in v unprotected sex; heavy breeding kink; creampie; oral - reader receiving). canonically bisexual reader. dp+w movie spoilers.

synopsis: you and logan have a pretty happy life… but there’s still something you want.

words: 10k.

notes: part 2 of say you’ll remember me. you don’t have to read it for this part but it is referenced. thank you @eupheme for being my beta, and for the use of the dividers!

Logan wakes to the twinned warmth of the sunrise and you curled around him like a cat. 

You’ve always been attracted to the way he runs hot, a creature of habit in any timeline. A magnet seeking him out even when asleep; you are pretty much a permanent fixture by his side when the weather is a little too chilly. Not that he’s complaining - he loves to sling an arm around you and feel you snuggle into him. Loves to keep you close. 

It’s nice, honestly; Logan has more good days than bad ones now. He never thought he’d get to see that again. Sometimes things get rough, sure, recovery is not a straight line - but you’re there with him on every step of that journey and he’s more thankful for that than he can ever express. You’re a grounding rod keeping the storm of his life in check. 

You intuit that he’s awake, something between you innately connected, and you begin to stir, body brushing up against his. He sleeps naked, usually running too hot to bother with any kind of pyjamas, and you’ve started sleeping shirtless too. Maybe it’s because he makes the bed too warm to stomach wearing one, or maybe it’s just because you like to feel his naked chest up against yours - either way he isn’t complaining. 

You stretch, arching yourself into his flank, blink open your eyes slowly. Smile when you find him looking down at you with soft, hazy, early-morning features. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, voice rocky. You reach up to kiss him, as is the way you usually like to start your day. It doesn’t take long for the chaste peck to become something more: the gentle parting of lips, slipping out the pink tip of your tongue to meet his. His body stirs. He can practically smell the way your blood pumps faster, pooling at the apex of your legs. 

“It’s so early,” you faux-harrumph when you run your hand towards his cock and find it hardening. How can you blame him when you’re so fucking sexy? Logan hums, manoeuvring you both so that he can look down at your sweet face as you lie surrounded in cotton sheets. 

“Then stay right there, baby.”

He kisses a sleepy, loving trail down your clavicle; luxuriating along the plain of your chest, nipping at your soft stomach in a way which beckons a breathy chuckle from you, steeped in the gravelly tones of morning. 

“Mmm, Mr Howlett, you are an incorrigible fiend.”

“Incorrigible, huh? Big word for someone who says they’re so sleepy…” he mutters, smirk ticking up the side of his mouth as his calloused fingers dip under the waistband of your pyjama shorts. 

“Incorrigible. Insatiable, even.”

He drags them down your legs, slowly, taking in the sight of you bathed in the dawn’s roseate light. You move your hips to let him. 

“Hmm. You complaining?”

“Oh, never.”

He grins and gets to work.

Logan loves the tang of you on his tongue. You’re still a little sticky from last night, where he pushed you chest-down into the mattress and fucked you so hard he was slightly worried he’d break the bed frame. He didn’t - but he’s perfectly happy to try again. 

You let out a fluttery little breath, butterfly light, as he starts his work properly. Burying his face in your cunt, letting every sense be drowned in you. He drags his tongue along your needy folds and you groan above him, hooking a leg over his shoulder and sinking your heel into the thick muscles of his back. He could listen to the noises you make for hours, a little symphony just for him. 

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, blissful and light-headed. He lets his mouth focus on your clit as he presses a couple of fingers inside. It’s an easy intrusion, your pussy offering up no resistance, a mix of spit and slick aiding him. He starts to crook them in a beckon and the mewl you let out will stay with him for the rest of the day; he smiles against your cunt. 

“That’s it, baby,” you groan. Fuck. He loves your voice when he’s making you come. Would do whatever you tell him to, just point him in a direction and he’ll follow. He is so utterly at your beck and call, a dog at your feet, so happy to obey. Anything for you, anything. 

He speeds up his pace, hand fucking you in a simulation of his cock last night, tongue pressing hard and flat against your folds. You come in a flood all over his mouth, soaking his beard and dripping off his chin. His favourite fucking flavour. All the furniture in the room jolts as you send out a telekinetic wave of force, knocking over a lamp onto the carpet with a dull thud. 

“That damn lamp, we need to move it…” you grumble. Logan kisses your thigh gently. 

“Baby, if the fuckin’ lamp doesn’t fall over, I’m not doing my job right.”

You laugh. There’s a pearlescent sheen of sweat that’s broken out over your body but you’re giddy and joyful. An arm slung over your eyes does nothing to hide the smile on your face, so wide it must hurt your cheeks. Yeah. He’s done good. 

“Let’s go shower,” you say, in a way which he’d never dream of arguing with. You walk naked into the bathroom and pull him under the hot stream of water with you. The room slowly fills up with steam and Logan presses you up against the tiled wall, burying his face in the warm space between your neck and your shoulder as he sheathes himself inside. You drag your nails down his back and he growls in your ear, slowly pumping his hips to bring you over the edge again. 

Ever since that first morning that the two of you were intimate, you’ve been wild for each other; unable to go a day without keeping your hands away. Like teenagers who haven’t understood the concept of pacing themselves. He wants to be drunk on you all the time, always wants your gasps filling his ears, his name dripping from your lips as he makes you come. 

He knows he’s the only man for you… but hey, nothing wrong with proving it too. 

You spend a leisurely forty minutes in the shower with your back against the wall and your legs around his waist, then eventually do what you meant to and clean up. He loves to watch you wash, smell the perfumes of all the soaps you use. You look adorable with suds in your hair. Plus when you ask him to get your back with the loofah it’s just another excuse to touch you and god knows he loves doing that. 

He’s a man content when you finally return to the bedroom. 

Logan watches you pad about and do your morning routine, one he knows like the back of his hand by now. Once again: you’re a creature of habit. Pointing to the radio you use your powers to turn it onto the only channel the two of you ever listen to: an ‘oldies’ station which never plays a song made post ‘89– 

—he remembers a few weeks ago when you were both visiting Wade, chatting about how bad songs are nowadays, and your friend had challenged you: “okay you two geriatric lovebirds, no conferring - when was the last good decade for music?” Without missing a beat you’d both answered “the eighties” and, as Wade groaned at how ‘cringe’ you both were, Logan had fallen in love with you yet again— 

—and you smile and turn it up when Aretha’s I Say A Little Prayer starts playing. Logan watches fondly as you croon out the chorus, using the hairdryer you’re plugging in as a microphone. He loves watching you sing. You don’t always hit all the notes but that’s not really the point - the point is he gets to see you be silly and vulnerable and totally and utterly yourself in these moments, something he knows to hold dear to his heart. 

If you’re singing, you’re happy. 

Fuck, he loves you. 

The two of you get yourselves ready for the day to the music which fills the room, quietly happy in each other’s company. The sound of people getting ready for the day starts up in the hallway; kids coming down for breakfast and squeaking their sneakers on the hardwood, other professors grousing about lesson plans - unfortunately it's time to break the cocoon of solitude the two of you have made for yourselves and face the morning properly. 

“What’re we doing today?”

He squints at the calendar to try and make out your handwriting, attempting to ignore the gaze of the “hot bisexual lumberjack” of the month staring out at him with her barely contained breasts and suggestively placed axe (this had been your birthday present from Wade, and you’d loved it). You tut at him. 

“Logan Howlett, we need to get you some glasses,” you say, pulling on your own and pressing your finger to today’s date, reading out the scribbled ballpoint. “Let’s see… we’re both teaching until five, then looks like there’s a Flames game in the evening you wanna watch. I, however, have been cornered tonight: the girls found out I’ve never seen the Barbie movie so apparently they need to correct that - though I ask you, when I was living in a place literally called the Void, when I would have gotten the damn chance. People weren’t just throwing copies of that thing away. Apparently it’s a great movie.”

‘The girls’. The comfortable nickname you’ve assigned the trio of Laura, Ellie, and Yukio. Logan’s glad Laura has managed to find her people with them - he was secretly worried that, if she took after him too much, she’d be a little too stubborn to make friends at all. Nothing to worry about though. She’s thriving here, and he’s relieved. Happy, even. 

“You’ve not seen Barbie?” Logan asks. You’ve moved to the boudoir now and pause as you apply your face cream, bottle floating in the air centimetres from your neglected skin. 

“Wait, you have seen Barbie?”

He shrugs. Yeah. He doesn’t remember the context, he’d had two full bottles of whiskey by then - but for some reason they’d put it on at the bar he was drowning himself at and he’d sat through the whole thing, leaving a smear of pink on his memory. 

You blink, still gobsmacked. 

“Did you like it?”

Logan considers this for a moment, knowing you’ll call him grumpy if he’s too critical, but also sure you’ll never ever stop teasing him if he praises it. Oh, and god forbid Wade ever finds out…

After a long moment he settles on, “it was alright.”

You shrug, happy with this assessment. 

“Well, good. Guess I’m in for a good evening then.” You stand up with gusto, the indication you’re ready to leave. “Shall we?”

The two of you walk to the door, taking a moment when Logan pulls you into an embrace - your back to his front. You look in the mirror, admiring the couple you see in the reflection, something you do every morning without fail.

“I love you, Logan Howlett,” you say. He drops a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I love you too.”

And with that, the day begins. 

Teaching is a very broad term for what he does. Basically, it’s his job to help the older students with self defence. Every day he goes to get the shit beaten out of him by a load of kids but it’s also the best workout he’s had in over a decade, so he doesn’t mind too much. Keeps him in shape, keeps him sharp. Plus he feels like he’s actually doing something helpful, finally adding to the world rather than just being a burden on it. He spends the first period running battle formations with them, keeping them on their feet and quick to react. Can’t have them getting in danger, not when he’s around.

The class takes a break to get water and he finds himself staring out the window, smiling fondly to himself when he sees you leading a little seminar. After you spent all that time in the wild and then the Void, one of the things they have you teaching is survival skills - you’re a dab hand at getting by just with what you can forage. Looks like you’re going to do some practical exercises as he can see you leading a group of the younger kids towards the forest which surrounds the mansion.

Something happens which makes his heart ache. 

There’s a kid by your side you’re in animated conversation with, probably no more than seven or eight, and they’re looking at you like you hung the stars - just absolutely enchanted with how cool you are. Without thinking they slip their hand into yours for support or guidance or comfort, one of the three anyway, and after a beat you give them a smile. 

In that beat, even from this distance, Logan can see the bittersweet look on your face. The longing. You would wear parenthood well and it’s not fair that you never got a chance to experience it firsthand. It’s a sadness which weaves its way into his guts and stabs him there, an old kind of pain, one he felt for you in his own timeline.

Logan wonders if it’s too late. Are the two of you too old now? Would you both be too hurt if you tried and it didn’t take again? He wants to give you what you want, desperately, but he’ll be damned if he’d ever do anything to upset you; he can’t shake the feeling that’s where that road would lead.

“You okay?”

Laura’s voice makes him jump. She’s a quiet little devil, that’s for certain, definitely not something she got from him - all blades and bluster in his youth. He nods because he doesn’t really want to get into detail about his private life with his pseudo-daughter. 

But unfortunately she’s smart, and his eyes linger, so it's only a matter of her following his gaze to see what’s got him pining. She smiles a small, comforting smile. 

“If there’s a problem you should just talk to them. They’ll listen.”

He harrumphs at the fact a girl less than one-tenth of his age is giving him life advice but also knows that what she says is true. He doesn’t address what she’s said, instead cocking his head at the training mats. 

“C’mon, back to it.”

Laura groans and returns to throwing her classmates across the room.

The thought stays with him for the rest of the day though. After class, when he returns to your shared rooms and starts to get himself set up to watch the game, he finds himself thinking about you with a baby in your arms. A mix of him and you with soft skin and excitement for the world. His eyes, your smile, a perfect combination.

And you’d be so happy. 

Fuck. He’s too old to get broody but here he is, huh.

Logan sits heavily in his recliner, the one nice purchase he’s allowed for himself since getting this job, and opens a root beer. TV remote in his hand he switches on the hockey and settles in for the evening. 

After about twenty minutes his phone goes. He frowns, opening up a text from Laura.

there’s some Pringles in the kitchen can u get them for us please the love of ur life is hungry

Logan sighs and replies, thumbs slow and unfamiliar on a touchscreen. 

all of you have legs. get them yourself

Another message immediately: It’s a picture. You’re busy painting Yukio’s nails bright pink, glasses on the end of your nose and concentration on your face - but half torn between the task at hand and watching the movie you’ve been sequestered for. You look cute. Logan stares for a moment and then saves the photo to his phone. All his albums are just pictures of you at this point. 

Plssssss

is the final text in the chain. Logan definitively puts his phone away. He’s watching the game. He’s not going to get out of this chair to grab a tube of fucking Pringles, he’s not whipped. 

A moment. 

He groans.

Fine.

He gets out of the chair. He’s whipped. 

He heads to the kitchen and gets the requested snack, Hank giving him a knowing and sympathetic smile as they pass in the hallway. He finds you in the lounge, surrounded by girls. Clearly the news of the Barbie watch had gotten out and created a swarm because dozens of eyes look up at him as he lingers in the doorway like a giant awkward dog.

Finally you pull your eyes away from Ryan Gosling’s chest long enough to see why everyone has turned. When you spot him you light up.

“Oh! How did you know I wanted Pringles? Been craving those bad boys recently.”

“Lucky guess,” he replies, stepping carefully between pink dressing gowns and well-thumbed gossip magazines to pass them to you. When he’s within range you drop a kiss on his lips too, prompting an “oooooo�� from the gathered crowd. You roll your eyes at them but smile at Logan.

“Thank you baby. What’d I do without you?”

He grumbles something non-committal under his breath and retreats, ignoring the shit-eating grin Laura is flinging his way. Eventually the crowd turns back to the movie. He tries to resist the urge to stand in the doorway with his arms crossed and watch along, the stereotypical father figure who insists he’s not interested, but finds himself lingering for a moment anyway just to see you.

Ellie has her feet slung across your lap, Yukio blows on her freshly-painted nails to dry them. One of the younger girls who’s been delegated to the floor by her older peers rests her head on your knee as she starts to nod off and you play with her hair for a moment - an action which comes readily to you, like it would to a parent.

Logan decides two things. 

One, he’s going to marry you, and he’s certain that every second that he hasn’t been your husband up until now has been wasted. 

And two, he’s going to put a baby in you, like you deserve.

On the way back he passes Hank again, who has an insanely huge sandwich stuffed onto a far-too-small plate - except this time Logan flags him down with a question, one which his colleague has to consider for a moment.

“Oh! Hmm. Yes, I’m pretty sure that it’s in the garage, sometimes the kids like to see if they can get it working again…” when he sees a scowl settle over Logan’s face he’s quick to add, “but none of them have been successful! I think the keys are in the ignition.”

Logan thanks him and heads back to your rooms, a plan forming in his head. 

You get back late. He’s listening to music and reading the paper, the game having finished long ago - the Flames winning of course, there was no other option, go Flames - the weight of the ring he’s swiped from your boudoir burning a hole in his pocket. He hopes you won’t notice - he needs to get your size, after all, and he knows he can’t ask you without rousing suspicion. 

“Hey,” you say, dropping a kiss on his cheek and yourself into his lap. The paper is discarded as his arm automatically comes to perch on your waist, dragged there as if by a magnet. Can’t not touch you for a second.

“Hey. How was the movie?”

“Yeah, pretty good! You know most of those girls hadn’t seen Legally Blonde? We had to remedy that after Barbie, apparently it’s considered a classic now. Fuck, it makes me feel old.” You groan and drop your forehead to his shoulder.

“You’re not that old,” Logan says, and when you come to fix him with a scathing look you find he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Tease,” you sigh, reaching in to kiss him, but stopping when you hear something on the radio. 

“What’s up?”

“Oh. This used to be our song.”

It’s AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long. It feels strange seeing the way your eyes get a bit hazy, a bit distant for a moment. 

“Good choice.”

“Uh-huh. She… you liked it a lot,” you whisper, for a moment lost in a memory he has no way to share with you. It stings you both. But then you’re back in the room with him, smiling as if nothing had happened. 

“We must have had a song, right? In your universe.”

Is this painful? He isn’t sure. But you shared yours with him, so it seems only fair he make it even. 

“Yeah, we sure did.”

You narrow your eyes, purse your lips playfully.

“I betcha I can guess it.”

He hums. 

“Okay. What’s the bet?”

“If I can’t guess I’ll do that thing you like. If I can guess, you do that thing I like.”

Oh, well, when you put it like that…

“Why not?”

You search his face, reading him for any telltale signs. 

“Mmmm, male singer or female? Or both.”

“I didn’t realise you got clues…”

“It’s not a game if I don’t, is it?”

“Fine. A guy.”

You think for a moment. 

“It was Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n’ Roses.”

Logan widens his eyes, genuinely impressed that you got it so fast…

“Holy shit.”

…But the grin which crosses your face suggests you’re playing a trick. 

“I hear you hum it a lot. It wasn’t a big leap, honestly,” you confess. He chuckles, but pauses for a second as he realises the implication of this discovery. 

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I like that song too.”

You don’t seem saddened by this conversation, so he guesses it’s okay - he’d never wanna hurt you by dredging up the past. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe it’s okay to reminisce about what used to be, while knowing what you have now is so strong and secure. 

Logan pulls back to look at you, attempting to affect seriousness but knowing he could never fool you for a second. 

“So you cheated, huh… doesn’t seem very fair…”

“Hmm, you’re right. I guess I’ll have to forfeit…”

You slide off his thighs and onto your knees in front of him, grinning as you go for his belt… but pausing so that you can use your powers to turn off the radio. 

“Unless you want to come to Brian Johnson’s voice, but it doesn’t do it for me personally.”

He laughs, actually belly laughs, and if the two of you aren’t engaged by the time the week is out he’ll be damned.

He’s able to go to a jeweller’s the next week under the guise of finally going to the city and getting glasses, and buys the perfect ring there and then. It must be fate that they have it in your size, a silver band and pretty stone. The caveat of this is, that for the ruse to work, he does actually also have to go to the opticians.

He comes back with a small pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a chip on his shoulder about the fact they make him see so much better. You seem pleased though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing the bridge of his nose.

“You look very handsome.”

“Mmmm…” he grumbles. You laugh and kiss him again.

“What are you doing today?”

“Workin’ on something.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a secret, can’t tell ya.”

You harrumph.

“A secret, huh…?”

“A surprise, then.”

You sigh dramatically.

“Well, okay. If it’s a surprise I suppose I’ll let it slide. The girls and I were gonna head into town to go shopping anyway so I guess I’ll see you tonight?”

You kiss farewell and when he’s sure you’ve left the manor he heads to the garage. It doesn’t take much searching to find his old Harley, hidden under a dust sheet and waiting patiently for his return. Logan can’t help the smile at the old thing, running his hand along the neglected metal frame and scaring a spider from its perch.

“Sorry I was gone for so long, baby,” he rumbles, then gets to work.

The next few days are tough. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise, but you’re clever, always investigating without meaning to, noticing when he trips up on an inconsistency. So whenever you try and weasel information out of him he simply refuses to answer. You’re grumpy, sure, but he can think of a few ways to make it up to you.

He’s nervous in a way he hasn’t been for… well, a while. He’s sure you’ll say yes. You’ll say yes, right? You’ve already been married once before – to him – so the odds are in his favour, but still, he gets a churning feeling in his stomach when he looks at the little box. Anxiety. He’s far too fucking old to be anxious like a schoolgirl asking out a crush, he feels goddamn ridiculous…

But.

But.

What will he do if you say no?

Ah, he can’t dwell on it for too long. Logan channels all of his effort into fixing up the bike - even allowing Laura to join in when she crosses her heart not to tell you - and plans ahead. Checks the weather. Picks his favourite shirt. 

Takes the plunge.

That morning Logan asks you to prepare a picnic and then meet him outside the manor. You look up at him from the reflection in your boudoir mirror as Carole King floats from the radio, an eyebrow arched.

“Oh? Why?”

“C’mon, I haven’t cracked yet. You think you’re gonna get me now?”

You pout. You’re cute. He drops a kiss on the top of your head.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

“Well-ll-ll… okay. I’ll trust you. Shall I wear those jeans? The ones which make my ass look great?”

“Baby, all jeans make your ass look great. You have a great ass.”

You grin and scurry over to the wardrobe.

He heads downstairs and brings the Harley round front, fingers tapping nervously on the hand clutch as he waits. For the millionth time he checks his pockets. Yep, ring still there. 

As you leave the front door, basket nestled in the crook of your arm, the smile which crosses your face is the same as if you’re seeing an old friend again.

“Oh my god! I had no idea this thing was still kicking around!”

You run the last few steps and put your hand on her chassis. You genuinely look a bit choked up.

“Fixed her up so I could take you for a ride.”

Your expression is so soft, so loving when you look at him.

“Logan… that’s so sweet.”

Stepping forward to press up against him you pull him in for a kiss, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He hums against your lips.

“Put a helmet on,” he says, handing one to you as you stow the basket. You fix him with an old-fashioned look as he presents it to you. It’s bright pink and has Barbie written across the side.

“God damn you Logan Howlett…”

“You liked the damn film. Keep hearing you sing that stupid song to yourself.”

You harrumph but don’t deny it, instead fastening the helmet on and climbing up onto the seat behind him.

It feels good when your arms tighten around him for support. Always feels good when your arms are around him, honestly, no matter what the cause. He revs the engine loudly a couple of times making you giggle, then speeds off.

He feels your fingers tighten in his shirt as he drives, weaving between whatever cars happen to dot the road as he goes. He’s not had a bike between his thighs for years now but you never really forget how to ride one. Besides, with you as his cargo, he makes sure to go safe. When he was a younger man he’d have been pushing the Harley to her limits just to get his blood pumping… nowadays he’s happy to take it slower. The longer the ride, the longer you’re pushed up against him, after all.

He’s still such a sucker for your touch.

It’s a nice day, and when he eventually slows down to the old lookout spot he used to take you to, you grin as you see the familiar view.

“It’s been a long time,” you sigh, eyes sparkling in the sun. You smooth your hair down where the helmet has taken its toll and start to lay out the treats you’ve packed onto a gingham blanket: thick-filled sandwiches, a fruit salad, a whole apple pie which Logan has no idea how you smuggled out. Fuck. He is so lucky to have you.

He sits and forces himself to eat, knowing the ring is hidden away in his pocket. You’re happy to take the lead on the conversation as you always are, chatting about your classes in between bites of roast beef, but cock your head to the side when a period of silence goes on for too long.

“Something’s on your mind.”

“What?” he asks, silently cursing himself for being so obvious. You reach out to rest a hand over his.

“Is there something you wanna talk about, Logan? It’s okay if there is. We can face it together, you know. We’re a team.”

As you let that sink in with him you wave your hand to bring out a thermos from the basket. It pours out two cups of coffee, both black, and you float one over to each of you.

He watches this with sharp eyes.

“You didn’t add any creamer,” he says softly. You smile, using your free hand to lift the cup to your lips.

“What can I say? I guess you got to me.”

You’re finally a coffee purist.

Logan blinks, taking in the sincere look on your face. There is only absolute adoration written there. It is a plain and simple fact: you love him more than he thought anyone could ever love him.

After a beat, he pulls his hand away.

He shifts to one knee.

Your eyes go wide.

“Logan…?”

“I gotta… you gotta let me talk. I need to get this out,” he says, slipping his hand in his pocket to grab the ring box. You cover your mouth in shock. “You’ve made me a better man. And more importantly you make me want to be one. I wanna spend the rest of our lives together because I’d be a goddamn idiot not to.” He opens the hinge and the ring shines where it’s seated in velvet. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh shit,” you say, then you do something unexpected. You throw your head back and laugh. 

Of all the reactions he was not expecting that.

Logan’s hands dip a little. What the fuck? Is this a rejection? Did he screw this up, monumentally misread the signs between the two of you? Are you having some sorta episode? What has happened to prompt this?

“Oh, baby, no - don’t be sad! Just… hang on…” you say when you see how his face has fallen. He watches as you root around in the picnic basket. “You won’t believe this…”

You shift to one knee…

…and pull out a ring box of your own.

Logan’s mouth falls open as you present a ring to him. A plain gold band, shiny and new - one you’ve had made specially for him. 

“I got your size from my Logan’s old ring. I’ve had it for days just waiting for the right moment and… I guess you have too.”

This information settles around him like a deep, sudden snowfall. His eyes can’t leave the little box you’ve pulled out. 

A smile creeps over his face.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, echoing your sentiment from earlier, and then suddenly you’re laughing too, head thrown back in utter joy. You throw yourself into his arms and press kisses all over his face: his beard, the end of his nose, all over his cheekbones, and then finally his mouth. He can feel the tears spill over your eyelashes and dampen his face, and holy fuck is he in love with you.

“So is that a ‘yes’?” he asks against your lips. He can feel your grin under his mouth.

“Depends if it’s a ‘yes’ from you.”

“Of course. I want you to make an honest man of me.”

“Then fuck yeah. I’ll marry you, Logan Howlett.”

Another glorious, effervescent peal of laughter falls from you and then you’re kissing him again. Together your hands fumble in order to exchange rings, a difficult task when neither of you will open your eyes and break lips, but eventually he manages to slide his ring on your finger and feels you exchange your own.

It feels good. It feels right.

Logan pushes you back onto the blanket, picnic forgotten for the moment. His mouth turns from sweet to hungry as he uses his body to cage you in. His hands drop to the hem of your shirt and start to pull it up so he can trace the bared line of your chest. 

“Logan, here?” you ask in a way which suggests here is great, actually. 

“Why not? Nobody watching. Just you and me, honey.”

He wins you over easily with that argument and your hands go for the top buttons of his flannel. When you find your fingers aren’t doing a fast enough job you start using telekinesis to undo them from the bottom, too. He drops his grip to your hips and fiddles with your belt and the fly on your jeans, groaning with pleasure at how easily you accommodate him and lift your hips so he can strip you.

“Fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he growls. His hand skims your underwear and takes a handful of your ass - god he loves your ass - as you rid him of his shirt so you can run your palms over the thick plain of muscle in his back.

“Look who’s talking,” you breathe against him, biting down on his bottom lip and tugging at it. Electricity shoots through him.

“Harder,” he mutters. You oblige him and sink your teeth in just enough for a little blossom of blood to spill into his mouth.

He’s going to go crazy right here on this blanket, you will drive him to insanity. What bliss. 

He kicks off his jeans and starts grinding his clothed cock against the fabric covering your cunt, like two teenagers so desperate to get off that they don’t even bother to get naked first. His blunt head catches on your clit and you groan at where you can feel him leaking.

“Love it when you fuck me, Logan,” you sigh. He’s not sure if it’s pride or arousal which throbs through him, probably both, but he realises then he has to do now what he should have done a long time ago.

Claws come out, he cuts your underwear off and you squeal in delight. For a moment he considers just sliding inside but if he’s going to do this, it has to be done properly.

So he pushes your legs upwards against your stomach, in a way which he knows your hips will complain about but your pussy will love. Your mouth is a soft little o as you realise you are being manhandled into a mating press. 

“Logan…?” you breathe, a little confused but giddy with pleasure, sucking air in sharply when he rolls his hips to try and slide his cock inside your wet heat. 

“Wanna put a baby in you,” he states, simply, growling it out. Your eyes roll back and you moan at his words, what a pretty sight. 

“But we… oh fuck… I don’t know if we can…”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he manages, pressing his hand to the soft paunch of your stomach under which your womb sits, “let me try.”

Your eyes go wide as your head empties.

“Okay, yeah. Do it. Fuck a baby inside me, Logan.”

What sort of loyal dog would he be if he didn’t follow orders?

His legs trap yours against your body as he starts fucking you in earnest, pressing home inside you with one rough thrust. You mewl and knead at his skin with worshipping hands as he moves. Each undulation of his hips buries himself in you impossibly deeper, so he knows when he spills inside you it’ll be right where it needs to take.

“Fuck…” you hiss, palm cupping his face so he can look down at you, gaze on your gorgeous face. The crease of concentration between your brows as you register how tightly he’s nestled inside you, lips soft and kissable. Your hair blooms like a halo, an angel silhouetted against gingham.

He loves you. Oh, how he loves you.

“Wanna be so full of you, Logan… want to walk around with your baby in me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

He growls but he also knows he belongs to you, too. You have his heart in your ribcage beating alongside your own, a thing he has freely given because you’re the person who most deserves it. He’d never want it to rest with anyone but you.

Logan moves his hips in slow, sensual movements, taking time to luxuriate in the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your walls. When he presses back inside he sees the way your eyes roll back as he hits that sweet spot, gloriously blissful.

“Gonna take you somewhere nice n’ quiet on our honeymoon and keep you in bed, doll. Fuck you until you’re full. Not gonna stop until we’re sure it’s taken. Watch you get all round with me. Goddamn, can just imagine how you’ll glow.”

You gasp at the filth he’s muttering but the grin on your lips show you’re incredibly enthusiastic about that idea.

“Yeah… want you to fuck me whenever you want, Logan… bend me over and fill me up… I’m yours, only yours…”

Something about the way you sigh that last part flips a feral switch in his brain. His hips speed up and the slap of skin on skin echoes from your hips, and then he’s coming in thick ropes to paint the inside of your pretty pussy. Mark you up as his. You groan at the feeling of warmth blossoming inside you but he knows you haven’t reached your peak yet. Usually he’d make sure you orgasm before him… but he has something a little different in mind right now.

Logan slips out of you and you mewl in the displeasure of being emptied. This doesn’t stop him manoeuvring your ass into his lap, though, keeping your legs spread so he can push three fingers inside your warm and willing entrance. A groan rips itself from your throat as you clamp desperate fingers down on his forearm. Were he a human man you’d leave fingerprints for certain, and for a moment Logan regrets that you can’t — he’d love evidence of this tryst; apart from your growing belly, of course.

“Fuck. Yes, Logan, push it inside me,” you whine. Oh goddamn, he’s so easily broken when you beg. He uses his fingers to gather up his spend as it tries to leak from your fucked-puffy cunt and presses it back into your hole. As he goes he makes sure to crook them inside you, hitting the same spot he was with his cock just moments ago.

All you can do is hang on and choke down air as he fucks you with his hand. He’s an expert at your body, can play it like an instrument; it doesn’t take long to get you where he needs you. He feels your walls twitch and then you’re coming around his knuckles, a filthy mix of his release and your own dripping all the way down to his wrist.

You collapse back onto the blanket, gasping for breath as your wits return. As he slowly pulls his hand away from you, you reach out to grab him and pull him to your mouth, sucking the cocktail of you both from his fingers and running your tongue around him.

He groans.

“Fuck. You’re gonna ruin me.”

“But what a way to go, huh?” your smile is devilish. He can’t help but reach down and kiss it. Your hand tangles in his hair and scratches his scalp affectionately. 

A beat.

“So… we’re trying?”

You don’t need to specify for what. He knows. When Logan pulls back there’s an expression of barely-concealed hope on your face. Makes his heart melt. His fingers move to lock with yours, squeezing gently down on your knuckles.

“Yeah. We’re trying.”

He’s never seen you look so happy. You trace your abdomen with a careful hand. The ring he got you glints on it, the stone reflecting the sunshine. 

“Well, okay then.”

It doesn’t take long for news of your engagement to spread. You tell Laura who puts it in a group chat she has with the other students in the mansion, and from there it has no chance of staying secret. In fact you return after you finish the picnic (and an attempt to tidy yourselves up) to a chorus of ‘congratulations’ from a gathered crowd at the door. Logan pretends to be grumpy but honestly? He wouldn’t trade the look of joy on your face for anything. He shows off his ring alongside yours and people coo with adoration at how cute you both are.

Once he’d have snarled at ‘cute’. Now he just accepts it as you snuggle into his side. 

You go to meet up with Wade and Al a couple of days later to tell them but it turns out word travels fast. The apartment door is thrown open in your faces as Wade pours accusingly. 

“I can’t believe I had to find out about this via social media from a teenage girl! What am I, back in high school? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to deal with puberty again, it wasn’t kind to me,” he says, waving his phone at you to show a cheerful post about the engagement put up by Yukio. Logan doesn’t get a good look, but does see the words “still find love in old age” which makes him bristle.

“Sorry, Wade. But you know, we live in the same house as her,” you say, sounding genuinely quite apologetic. Wade deflates a little at your tone, but keeps the act up anyway.

“Big-ass house. Coulda kept your damn hands in your pockets…” he mutters, but then gives you a sincere hug. When he turns with his arms open to Logan, he sighs and accepts one too. “But really, I’m happy for you two. Just don’t forget about your old perpetually single buddy Deadpool when you’re off bumping uglies as a legally wedded couple…”

“I think I might try and forget you during those times actually, Wade,” you say with a laugh. 

“Hmm. Oh wait, holy shit - can I be your best man? I promise you I scrub up pretty well. Well, apart from the face. Mmm, and the rest of my body. My ass looks great in a suit is what I’m saying,” this is directed at you and you give Wade a sad smile.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, I already asked Laura. We kinda trauma bonded in the Void,” you say. Wade’s eyes slide over from you to Logan.

“Oh my god,” he grumbles.

“C’mon, peanut! Isn’t that what best friends are for?”

Logan opens his mouth to snap that they are not best friends but then… he just sort of… closes it. He’s too old to have a best friend. Grown men don’t have best friends. Or at least that’s what he’d have said a scant few months ago. But now…

“Fine,” he sighs. Logan feels you squeeze his hand in joy as Wade lets out a woop which startles Al.

“Yes! I won’t let you down buddy. I’m gonna give you the best dry bachelor party of your life. The strippers will be so hot you won’t even need beer to make them look good!”

“Wade…”

“Joking! Joking…” he says, in a way which suggests he probably wasn’t - though about the quality of the strippers or there being any in the first place, he can’t be sure.

The two of you don’t want a big wedding. You had one in your own timeline and know how stressful it can be. You’re both able to come to the same reasoning: it isn’t the size of the celebration which matters, but that you’ll be married by the end of it. That’s what it’s all leading to after all. Every morning Logan wakes up to the weight of your ring on his finger and he feels complete. He feels grounded. 

He’s happier than he’s been in a long time; maybe ever.

You book a day to go down to city hall and sign the marriage certificates, only in a couple of weeks’ time. The kids all make you cards, shoving them under your door or handing them over during lessons. Soon your room is covered with crayon-scribbled well-wishes and poorly drawn felt-tip depictions of you both. Mostly, it’s you smiling, and Logan snarling with his claws out. You laugh every single time you see one, so he doesn’t mind too much. There are always little love hearts doodled between you anyway. At least the kids know you’re happy together.

Time moves by quickly but maybe that’s just a symptom of being in love. Classes no longer drag on and drain him, instead Logan starts every morning with the vigour of a young man… though the fact that he fills you up every morning before you both head to work might help. It’s strange; you never use protection anyway, but now it feels like there’s a purpose behind the way you fuck. Any position where he gets to see your face as he comes deep inside you will do it for him honestly. He could live in your cries of pleasure, the way you mewl his name, the duty of putting a baby inside you. Before long, those couple of weeks the city hall needed to get your paperwork in order are up, and the day arrives that you’re finally able to go and make things official. 

Logan wakes in bed alone. This is expected. He came home late last night after his bachelor party which, to be fair to Wade, wasn’t so bad. The guy had just organised some friends to play poker late into the night. Due to - what Laura has coined as - his natural ‘resting bitch face’, he cleared everyone out. He’s two hundred and sixty dollars richer so now he can grab you some nice flowers on the way to the wedding. He’d gotten a text saying that you were staying at a hotel in town for the night, the girls had insisted on keeping you separate because it’s tradition. Logan isn’t sure what about this whole situation is exactly traditional, what with all the crossed timelines and long-lost soulmates, but if it makes you all happy he’ll relent.

He showers, missing your body in the steam with him, then walks naked back into the room to grab something nice to wear, fingers fumbling with the radio as he goes. It picks up just as the host is introducing the next song.

“...goes out to Logan from ‘the love of your life’, who is pretty sure you’ll have the radio on by now! Apparently you’re getting married today? Well a big congratulations from everyone here at the station, you two, enjoy this classic tune…”

Chapel of Love by the Dixie Cups starts to spill out from the speakers and Logan chuckles, grabbing his phone and tapping out a message.

Cute.

You text back almost immediately. He can imagine you grinning at your screen as the music plays, waiting for his reaction.

I am. Can’t wait to see you today, baby ♥

Yeah, he can’t wait to see you either.

Seeing as it’s meant to be a relaxed ceremony you’d both decided not to wear anything too formal. Logan pulls out a white dress shirt and a fresh pair of jeans, toeing on the boots he cleaned last night. He looks at himself in the mirror before deciding to roll his sleeves up to his elbow. For some reason you go crazy when you can see his exposed forearms; you say it’s “pure unadulterated sex appeal”. He’s never understood it himself but anything to make you smile. 

Laura grabs a ride with him in the pickup he uses. She’s wearing leggings and a baggy suit blazer but he has to admit, the kid looks pretty cool. Despite his several warnings not to she sits with her feet on the dash playing with her phone, calling him a boring old man for not wanting her to go through the windscreen. 

“Remember I heal like you, dummy. It’s no problem.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want you turning up to my wedding covered in glass with your clothes ripped to shit.”

She grumbles and relents, ever the petulant teenager.

He manages to get parking nearby, so someone up above must be smiling down on him, takes the short walk to the city hall - making sure to get a ridiculously large bouquet as he goes. As he takes in the smell of roses he realises it isn’t that he’s feeling nervous per se, but there’s definitely an anticipation running up his spine. Realistically he knows nothing will change when the two of you are married on paper.

But… kinda everything will change.

He spots you talking to Wade on the grey stone steps, and his mouth is pulled into a smile at the cute little dress you’re wearing. You had been going on about how you picked it up at the thrift store - what a bargain! - and now he sees it, he agrees about how it highlights your figure perfectly. You light up when you see him… and Wade’s face falls as he turns.

“What the fuck! I thought this was a wedding?! Now I look like I’m in a competition for most formally dressed dickhead!” he says, gesturing to himself. He’s in a full black tuxedo and is definitely the most suited up person for about five blocks.

“It is a wedding. Not my fault you never asked the dress code,” Logan states. You burst into laughter as Wade pouts, but he seems to be taking the ribbing pretty well. Your hand tangles into Logan’s. He looks at you.

“Hey,” you breathe, taking the flowers and taking a deep breath of their sweet smell. “Thank you, these are lovely.”

“You deserve the best, baby.”

“Aww. You know, look great.”

“So do you.”

“We scrub up pretty well, huh? Great choice on the sleeves, by the way.”

Logan smiles into the kiss he presses to your lips. Laura groans at the public display of affection.

“C’mon, your slot is coming up. You two wanna be late for your own wedding?”

And so you traipse up the stairs to the office where the smiling registrar has you fill out the paperwork to officially be married to each other. When you see Logan’s hands shake a little, you press your own to the small of his back and rub small soothing circles there. Wade and Laura cheer when you have your first kiss as a wedded couple and burst party poppers of confetti over you both. The group of you stand together and get a picture to celebrate the day: Logan’s arm around your waist while yours is secretly perched on his ass, Laura grinning and holding the bouquet for you, Wade laying across the front of you all Breakfast Club-like. 

Logan smiles so hard his face hurts.

It’s nice.

Though the two of you didn’t want a party it’s pretty hard to convince the kids at the manor of anything, so you get back to a banner reading congratulations! It’s held by your youngest students who cheer as the group of you get out of the pick-up. Yukio rushes in to give you a tight hug and you laugh, joyful at the love you’re walking into.

The dining room has been cleared to set up an impromptu celebration space. A metric tonne of pizza has been ordered and Piotr, the rather willing DJ, makes sure nothing pre-1989 is played.��

He’s never really been one for dancing, but when you drag him to the middle of the wooden floor and wrap your arms around his neck Logan can’t help but sway with you to all the cheesy love songs. You press your forehead to his, tips of your noses meeting. You breathe in harmony. You let the same air fill your lungs.

“I love you,” you sigh a dozen times over, dreamily.

“I love you too,” he breathes a dozen times back.

When you throw the bouquet that evening you’re in such a good mood you both forgive Wade for body-checking a kid to grab it out of the air.

Logan thinks about his life and smiles.

He’s got it pretty good.

He takes you on a honeymoon for a week to a little cabin in the woods he rented out. It’s in the wilderness, miles from anyone or anywhere, which means he’s able to do what he wants with you: have you naked the whole time.

The two of you don’t do anything but fuck, and you’re very down for it. Something about married life has you more horny than you’ve ever been before. For the first couple of days you hardly leave the bed, Logan only heading to the kitchen to grab you some food to keep your energy up between sessions, pumping you full of his come until you’re a sticky and sated mess. He feeds you slices of pie as you lay dazed on the mattress, a pillow under your hips to keep his spend from dripping out of you.

“Fuck, Logan, you’re gonna kill me,” you groan as he starts rocking his hardening cock up against you the fifth time that day.

“Nah, baby. You can take it.”

You fall asleep with him buried deep inside of you so that the thing waking you up the next morning is him rolling his hips. It’s a pretty fucking good way to start the day.

Eventually the two of you leave the bedroom and walk around the place. Autumn is coming in properly now, the green of the trees outside turning to reds and oranges. You wrap yourself in a blanket and stand at the huge windows looking out at the vista, your aesthete sensibilities pulling you there. Silhouetted in October’s light, Logan can only be struck by how perfect you are: your body, your heart, your soul. His, all his.

He’s the luckiest goddamn man alive.

He takes you against the windows, your chest pressed up against the cool glass and making you gasp in thrilled pleasure, rubbing loving circles on your clit until he feels you clench around him.

At night the two of you huddle by the wood-burning fireplace, the flames dancing across your bodies as he makes love to you slowly, non-hurriedly, letting you enjoy each other. You push him onto his back and ride him, head thrown back so he can appreciate the long line of your neck which he traces with thick calloused fingers.

Fuck, he’d keep you here forever if he could. A little slice of perfection made for just the two of you. Nobody to bother you or call you away for duties, just your love and all the space it needs.

It’s a shame when the two of you have to return to the manor, but he has a job to do. Kids to teach. A Wade to keep in check. It’s easy to slip back to day-to-day life, though, when he has a wedding ring on his finger and you in his bed.

That is until one day he finds you with your head in the toilet, emptying your guts of the day’s breakfast.

“Logan, I don’t feel so hot,” you groan. He goes into panic mode, worrying you’ve got some sorta bug, practically carrying you to Hank’s lab so the doctor can get a good look at you. When you get there, he doesn’t seem incredibly impressed, but checks you over diligently because he’s a friend. 

“Look, I don’t mean to be crass, but have you taken a pregnancy test?” he asks, bluntly. Your eyes go wide over the glass of water you’re sipping.

“Well, no, but…” you trail off. Logan can see you counting on your fingers, trying to make something add up in your brain.

“Ah. Right. I don’t have one but I do have an ultrasound scanner, it was one of the things Charles foresaw a use for I suppose…”

So Logan stands there as Hank wheels the thing out and has you lay down on a counter - this isn’t the med room after all, there’s no beds in here. Your hand grabs onto his as Hank carefully lifts your shirt and presses the wand to your stomach.

There’s no mistaking the image on the screen. Head, body, arms and legs. The baby’s picture thrums. Hank does not seem surprised.

“Yep, there it is. You’re pretty far along. I’m not an expert, but I’d say three months?”

“Three…!” you look at Logan as if this is his fault. Which, he supposes, it sort of is. “But we’ve only been… uh, trying for a few weeks now.”

Hank shifts uncomfortably. Logan wants to die. He does not want to talk about his sex life with a peer.

“Have you been using birth control?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then I think you have your answer. Nature did what it does best.” He manages a smile. “Congratulations to you both. I’ll uh, let you have a moment alone.”

He practically runs out of the lab. The two of you are left sitting there in silence.

Then slowly, so slowly, your hand comes up to rest on your abdomen. You look down at the point of contact and tears well up in your eyes.

“Logan…”

With one word you summon him, his strong arms wrapping around you and holding you tight, an anchor in this moment of joy. He buries his lips into your hair as you sob, utterly overwhelmed.

“Fuck, we did it, baby,” you manage to choke out. His hand comes to rest on your own and then you switch, covering it with yours so that he can feel the skin of your belly. It’s warm and soft. It feels strange knowing that his child is in there. Strange but right.

He gave you what you deserve. His heart beats a little faster and he realises his vision is blurry, too. Fuck. Look at him, welling up. 

Ah man, he doesn’t care.

The kiss between you is wet and desperate, an act of triumph and elation. As his mouth presses deep into yours he feels you tug at his shirt, pawing at him like an animal.

“Honey, I’m not gonna fuck you in Hank’s lab,” he states. You whine beneath his lips.

“But I wanna celebrate…” you mewl, hitting him with the doe-eyes. He scoffs a laugh and you pout. “Besides the pregnancy hormones are driving me crazy.”

“You just found out.”

“Yeah, weird how quickly they can take effect…”

Logan gently but firmly removes your exploring hands.

“We can do it somewhere our friend and coworker doesn’t spend his whole day. C’mon,” he silences any protestations with another kiss, soft and loving, “we have all the time in the world, baby.”

You run your fingers through his hair, eyes still a little dewy, but smile is undeniable.

“All the time in the world…” you sigh, a promise. 

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

those of you who liked part 1, too: @inumakisriceingredients @respectmyprivacys-blog @xcalcalcalcalx @moonixlity @justanothermarvelfanaccount @taraa-dactyl @nitimurinvetitumsposts @sseleniaa @diegobrandolover99 @blackcanvaspainting @youngestxhearts @veggie-eggrolls

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

Can't Sleep (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Smut)

Short Summary: Ellie has been struggling to fall asleep due to her past trauma. But you might have just found something that could work! Without even being contious.

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut that includes somnophilia. Also includes a small mention of past trauma/ptsd

Words: 1379

(Credit to however the pictures belongs to, they’re not mine! I just found them on Pinterest like everyone on this fucking app does)

Ellie sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. Another night ruined. She truly didn’t understand why she kept trying when 99,9% of the nights would end up with her waking up at around 3 am and not be able to go back to sleep. Being used to this she would usually look around the dark room for about 15 minutes before getting up and spend the rest of the night watching some useless tv show while scolding herself for not being able to sleep this night either. Either you would wake up, glancing to your side and notice the bed being empty and thereafter walk down the squeaky stairs to see your girlfriend hunched down on the sofa. Or sometimes you didn’t even notice until your alarm went off, signaling you to wake up and get ready for work. Yeah, those days definitely left you feeling guilty……. You really felt bad for her, you do! If you could somehow give her your sleepiness, if just for a day every once in a while, you would 100% do it. Without a doubt! But unfortunately you can’t, which leaves you with only one option, supporting her as best as you can. You’ve went to the doctor, therapist, anyone who could potentially help her with her trauma, but to no use. The sleeping pills she got prescribed only left her feeling more sleepy, yet her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. At least not for more than an hour or so.

Ellie sifted her glance from the wooden ceiling to the sleeping figure beside her. You were currently facing her, allowing her to take in your beauty. Fuck, she had no idea how she got so lucky. If you asked Ellie she would DEFINITELY say you’re out of her league, but you assure her she’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of (and more). Her eyes trace over your peaceful face, your eyebrows slightly frowning, most likely due to a dream, your lashes lightly touching your under eyes, and your cute lips slightly pouting. Holy fuck she wanted to kiss you so badly. Her eyes continued down your neck, onto your décolletage that’s being highlighted by the moonlight before they stop at your…..chest. Being the summer time you always wore a spaghetti strapped crop top to bed, along with whatever underwear you used the day before. But the nights sure could be a little chilly.

One of your straps had fallen off your shoulder, allowing more of your boob to show then intentionally. Ellie tried not to look, but failed miserably. Knowing just how soft they feel in her hands she had to physically restrain herself from reaching out and touch them. Ellie continued to eye your exposed breast while letting her imagination wander free, not being aware of just how excited it got her until she, by reflex, pressed her thighs together and notice a wet patch. “Fuck” Ellie mumbled as the embarrassment came over her. She can’t get this fucking wet just from staring at your clothed boob! That’s the keyword “clothed”. Ellie bit her lip as she hesitated on “helping” the fallen strap to “accidentally” fall even lower down. Resulting in your boob hanging out free. Ellie let out a shaky breath when your harden nipple was bare for her eyes to see. Yep, definitely chilly.....

Even though this was far from the first time she's seen your naked breasts (living together for over four years leads to a lot of topless moments, sexual or not) she couldn't help but feel giggly like a school boy when she did. Her eyes took a quick glance at your face to make sure if she disturbed your sleep by her "action". But you continued to let out the peaceful breath that sometimes helped her succeed in falling asleep (if only for an hour). Taking in your unbothered expression Ellie got the courage to make her next move. She reached out her tatted arm and carefully placed her veiny hand on your exposed breast. She had to bite her lip to not moan at the contact with your smooth skin. But she soon drew it back, quickly, when you started to move. Her cold fingers had shocked you, and even though you're still in sleep, you let out a groan and rolled onto your back. But in your change of position your top had slid down even lower, resulting in both your boobs being free from the fabric.

Ellie´s eyes widened as she eyed not one, but both of your tits. She couldn't help herself. Shortly after she lowered herself and gave your right nipple a feather-light kiss. She groaned before going in harder. Her mind wouldn't let her think straight, too high on the taste of your skin. She continued to suck on your right nippled as she fundled with the other. The feeling was unreal. Without noticing it Ellie started to grind herself against your mattress, her body trying to find a way to release the pleasure she’s feeling. But it wouldn’t work. Ellie let out a frustrated whine at the lack of friction she got, nothing for her poor throbbing clit to attach to. She let go off your nipple, involuntarily, to solve her own “problem”. She lifted up your shared cover to see your bare legs. Ellie carefully lifted her own leg to strangled your nearest thigh. Just the pressure on her sensitive when she lowered herself onto you was enough to draw a moan. But she pulled her sleeping shorts to the side, exposing her wet pussy, before making sure to properly situate herself. Without losing a second she began to grind herself against your soft leg. The firmness she was looking for was found, and she had a hard time shutting up.

Even though she knew she couldn’t be so loud or she’ll wake you up her brain also didn’t want to focus on that. Just the pleasure. A few shaky breaths were leaking out as Ellie rested her head against your shoulder. Her juices soon covered more of your thigh than she thought. For a few seconds she felt embarrassed, paranoid you’d wake up to find her like this. Desperately humping your thigh like a dog. But that thought seem to have vanished from her head when she grabbed both your hips with her long slander fingers, holding on hard as she continued to grind her cunt hard and faster. “Fuuuuuck” Ellie pathetically whined “please, (y/n)………please fuck me”. Ellie grabbed one of your hands and brought it up to her mouth. She stuck out your index and middle finger before putting them in her mouth. Sucking and licking them like her life depended on it.

At one point Ellie couldn’t care enough to even try and keep quiet. She didn’t care if you woke up. In fact, she wanted you to wake up. Cause if you did maybe you’d help her. Letting out a deep groan your fingers fell out of her mouth, covered by her saliva. But Ellie quickly took a firm grip around said hand’s wrist and traced it down her body. When met with the hem of her long sleeved sleeping shirt she made sure to lead your hand underneath it and continued up until your fingertips are met with her hard nipple. Just the feeling of your skin on hers was incredible. Ellie let out another satisfied moan before she puts her hand on top of yours, helping you to palm her perky little tit beneath her shirt. Ellie buried her slightly sweaty forehead into the side of your neck. She tried to keep her eyes open, wanting to watch every single bounce your tits would do due to her intense pace, but the pleasure makes it hard not to let her eyelids drop completely.

Ellie’s eyes soon filled up with tears at the delicious feeling, but also the frustration of not getting enough. You knew her like the back of your hand. Every weakness, everything she liked and didn’t like, you knew it. She needs to wake you up. Ellie made sure to swallow all the spit that was threatening to spill out onto your neck before whining into your ear

“Please help me, baby? I can’t sleep”.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: I thought this would be A LOT shorter when I started to write it. I do really like making more blur-ish stories, but I clearly can’t do them. Cause I start off writing just the main act, but then I’m like “but wouldn’t it be cool if I added what the reader’s grandmother was like? And what her favorite subject in school was!😃😃”. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this anyways. Even though it’s longer than anticipated (that’s what she said).

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hiiii so this is my first time asking for anything but can you do Astarion headcanons where Gn!Reader is basically a Living heater, like they’re always warm.

Heyo thanks for asking! I did the headcanons for spawn Astarion only as I haven't ascended him yet, hope you don't mind! Also this inspired me to write a fic where reader and Astarion share a bedroll and cuddle so thank you anon! Look forward to it!

Being able to feel warm is a novelty Astarion has recently come to love

His favourite spot in camp used to be the campfire, where he would always be found lounging with a book in hand, that is, until he found out how warm you are

Suddenly, you’ve adopted a very clingy vampire who wants to do nothing more than sprawl all over you like a cat sunbathing on a nice flat rock underneath the sun

Speaking of cats, he definitely purrs when cuddling with you, no matter how much he says otherwise

“You’re hearing things, darling” “Right…”

At first, he’s hesitant about how much physical contact you’re willing to put up with, only pressing shoulders with you and holding hands whilst sitting around the campfire

He’ll take what warmth he can from you without crossing any boundaries you may have, and feel his way around his position in the relationship

But as the two of you become closer, he starts to become more daring

The first thing he tries doing is hugging

Ever since you first hugged him, he’s been craving the intimate act, coming up with excuse after excuse to hug you such as checking you for injuries and being tired after a long hike

And now he has the perfect excuse

“You’re warm, I need the warmth” or so he says. Not that you mind, really

You keep silent about how he constantly melts in your arms during the hugs

Sometimes he pretends like he isn’t craving a hug but you can tell from the many glances thrown your way and the slight twitching in his arms whenever he’s right next to you, so to save him his dignity you initiate the hug

He loves it when you initiate hugs, it makes him feel warm both on the outside and the inside, the kisses that always come with the hugs are an added bonus

If you’re shorter than him, he likes to bury his face into your hair while holding you as tightly as possible so that he can absorb maximum warmth while feeling like he’s holding the world in his arms

If you’re taller than him, he likes to bury his face into your shoulder/chest, there’s so much warmth emitting from those areas, he can’t resist. Besides, it means easier access to your neck should he get a little peckish

Once the two of you are close enough, he starts resting his head on your chest and curling up against you

He likes hearing your heartbeat while indulging in your body heat, it keeps him grounded and trancing isn’t as scary as it used to be when he’s enveloped in your warmth

Sometimes he likes just lying curled up against you, a comfortable silence filling the air as he traces a length along your arm, intertwining his fingers with yours

His favourite place to cuddle is snuggled in a cocoon of blankets with you, he gets double the warmth especially on chilly nights

He’s alright with being the big or small spoon, unless he just woke up from nightmares then he’s all about being the small spoon for the night

He may not need massages, being a vampire and all, but he still likes to request them from you from time to time, if only because he gets to feel your warm hands on him. He doesn’t care how effective the massages are

All in all, he loves the toastiness that is you and would never trade it for the world

[lovingseventeen]

svt being green flags early into dating

a/n: dating boys who aren’t seventeen? i don’t recommend KIDDING but it’s tough out here. ngl i wrote this in one dash bc i’ve had it with boys

- picture these hcs as the talking stage/unofficial dating era but you guys are interested in each other

seungcheol:

❥ saw a quote recently that described a man as “alpha male energy without being an incel” and i think this pertains to cheol too

❥ never let’s you pay, picks you up in his car for your dates so you don’t have to commute anywhere and to ensure you get home safe

jeonghan:

❥ teases you but never crosses a boundary

❥ makes clever jokes but they’re never the kind of “dark humor” that’s just disguised as something problematic

joshua:

❥ he’s a prince, a walking green flag even

❥ hence the princess treatment that you tend to get

❥ always offers his hand to you when you walk on anything that could be precarious

jun:

❥ he’s a little silly but he’s very aware of when is a good time

❥ knows exactly how to cheer you up depending on the situation

❥ maybe you get funny voice jun or an attentive jun gently holding your hand and asking what he could do to help

soonyoung:

❥ consistent energy towards you

❥ you see him bounding towards your date meeting spot with the biggest grin on his face - the same genuine grin as the one on your first date

wonwoo:

❥ the best listener and he’s good at following up with you so you know he cares

❥“oh yeah how did your test go? the one you kept staying up for”

❥“did you end up talking to your boss about your hours?”

❥“did you end up getting the tickets for the concert you wanted?”

jihoon:

❥ his schedule may be busy but he does try to make time for you and he communicates when he can’t

❥“i’m a little tight this week but i moved some things around so i’m free saturday night, do you want to get dinner?”

❥“our day off is coming up, are you also free that day? i was thinking spending a day at home together?”

❥ he’s a little extra sappy when he can’t free up time

❥“we’re doing our dome shows this week, i’m so sorry i can’t see you, darling”

seokmin:

❥ also has very good, enthusiastic, energy towards you

❥ loves to text you consistently without being overbearing either

❥ good mornings and good nights are precious to him

❥ tells you unsolicited updates about his day and hopes you’ll do the same

❥ i stubbed my toe - remember to be careful sometimes!

mingyu:

❥ what can i say- he never lets you do anything in the sense that he doesn’t ever want you to feel the need to lift a finger around him

❥ your steak? do you want him to cut it for you?

❥ you need to build your new bookshelf? no you don’t, he’ll do it

minghao:

❥ so casually a gentleman

❥ tends to guide you by the small of your back when you walk together (he’s also always walking on the side closest to the road)

❥ it’s kind of a nice little reminder he’s there

seungkwan:

❥ he always brings an extra something in case you need it on your dates

❥ if it’s chilly outside and you’re talking a stroll around the park, he’ll an extra pair of gloves for you or an extra scarf

❥ or if you’re doing an active date, like trying volleyball maybe, he’ll bring an extra pair of kneepads for you

vernon:

❥ maybe he’s not the best with words but he’ll always send you little recommendations

❥ whether it’s a movie, a song, or a video, it’s his way of telling you “this reminded me of you”

❥ even in most casual instances, he’s thinking about you

chan:

❥ always takes care of planning dates

❥ while of course he wouldn’t stop you from planning a date, he also really enjoys thinking of where to go and what to do so he can just show you a good time :)

[revelboo]

Will you consider writing anything for prowl?Maybe a really angsty one or maybe he gets a human assistant and they have to learn to get along?

I don’t think I’ve ever written for Prowl before even in my FFN days…

Stand Too Close

Prowl x Reader- amends

• You’re always scowling at him. He can feel those sullen eyes watching his every move any time he enters a room. That anger, like he’d hit you on purpose. You’re the one who’d walked out in front of his alt mode on a dark street. It wasn’t like the silly little human crosswalk sign has meant anything to him. If it’s his fault, it’s equally your fault for not looking first. He hasn’t meant to do it, but you try your best to punish him for it every day.

• There he is. Public enemy number one as far as you’re concerned, and the reason you’re now spending your time in the land of giant aliens. Prowl. Those door wings on his back lift as soon as he notices you, going full aggression. You’ve definitely gotten the impression that if Bumblebee hadn’t been with him and seen him hit you, he’d have left you laying in the road with a concussion for someone else to run over. Your whole life and freedom just collateral damage because one alien jerk couldn’t be bothered to stop at a red light. As soon as you’d gotten over the terrified screaming upon waking up in this mess cause he’d kidnapped you, it hadn’t taken long to realize that while the Autobots aren’t going to hurt you, they’re also not letting you go. Because you know where they are, as if you remember anything of the trip to their secret base.

• “Back from ruining someone else’s life?” The human calls out from its perch on his desk and he goes rigid. It’s like you think he did it on purpose. If he had, you’d have gone under his wheels not over his hood. Optics narrowing, he barely resists the urge to bump the desk just so you fall on your butt. He’s done it before to shut you up and then felt guilt about it. And that only ever makes him madder.

• He’d tried pawning you off on Bumblebee since he actually liked humans, but Prime had firmly insisted you were his to look after. To make amends whether he wants to or not. “You didn’t refuel,” he mutters, spotting the provisions he’s left you untouched. “I don’t have time to force feed you and if you make me, I swear you’ll hate it more than me.”

• That threat isn’t lost on you as you resist the urge to flip him off, eyes narrowing. “That’s a frozen dinner, you idiot. Does it look like I have any way to heat that?” He just turns that icy blue stare on you, rumbling in annoyance. “I can’t eat it frozen,” you add because he’s just staring like you’re the problem. Like you walked out in front of him just to ruin his life.

• “If you call me an idiot again, I’ll punish you.” The words are calm, all ice, but there’s an edge to them. A very real threat that walks up your spine on chilly fingers. You got the impression that while he respects the big guy, Prime, he doesn’t always agree with him. And maybe no one would notice if you just disappear. Prowl could just shrug and pretend you escaped. Drive out in the desert and hide your body in a shallow grave. You’d swear he’s thinking about it sometimes. Like now. You meet that stare head on even if it scares you. And to your surprise, he relents first. “I’ll find you food that’s not frozen. And you’ll eat it.” Why does he have to say it like there’s an or else there?

Next

[luna-azzurra]

Just two things:

What are some body language for a small sickness, such a cold?

And what is the body language for a much bigger sickness, such as a really bad fever?

When someone has a small sickness like a cold, their body language can be subtle but still easy to spot if you're paying attention. They might be a little more slouched than usual, like their body is tired even if they’re trying to act normal. They’ll sniffle a lot, maybe rubbing their nose or using tissues constantly. There’s also this thing where they’ll keep swallowing, like their throat is scratchy. You might notice them shivering slightly, like they’re cold even if it's not that chilly. And their eyes? They can look watery or just a bit out of focus, like they’re struggling to keep up with everything going on. Now, when someone has a much bigger sickness, like a really bad fever, their body language changes a lot more. They’ll look exhausted, like every movement takes too much energy. You might see them constantly touching their forehead, trying to check their own temperature or rubbing their head because they have a pounding headache. They’ll move slower, almost like they're weighed down, and sometimes they’ll clutch their stomach or chest, as if it hurts to breathe or even stand. Their skin could be pale or flushed, depending on how bad the fever is, and you’ll definitely notice their eyes, they’ll look heavy, almost like they’re burning or barely staying open. And when they talk, it’s quieter, sometimes raspy or uneven because they’re struggling to get their words out without feeling worse.

In short, a cold can make someone seem just a little off, but with a serious fever, it's like their body is fighting a battle, and you can see it in every small, exhausted gesture.

[justasecretflower]

Dating Gyutaro before he became a demon🤍

You look lost, visit my garden?

- You’re his reason for life, you and his younger sister.

- you met him while he was limping back to his house after he had went out because his mother had brought a customer over.

- his little sister was with him, ume.

- also, he tried running away at first..

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·—————

I carefully walked slowly through the street, it was a chilly autumn night in the streets of Japan, the breeze swaying in between strands of my h/c hair, a quiet night, just me and the slight wind, snug kimono and contentment overflowing me. Suddenly, a man and a little girl appear before me, he looked around 20, with a girl attached to his hip. I took in the man and his sisters general appearance. The man was skin and bones, and wore a brown torn up kimono, his hair was black and scruffy, tied into a bun, and I was pretty sure I could smell him all 10 feet away. The little girl had white hair and also looked like she was deprived of food and water. A pang of hurt swelled up inside of me seeing they’re starvation so obvious with their sunken torsos and rib cages showing, a surge of compassion came right after as I gained the courage to speak up. “Hey, what’s your name? I’m y/n” I said softly, while tapping his bony shoulder. His head snaps towards me, his dull blue eyes blown out and red shot. I couldn’t even get a word in before he just..ran away.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

- it would take you a couple tries to get his trust, you gave him and his sister food, stitched up some of his torn clothes, a bunch of stuff.

- eventually, he let you in slowly, but just because it took him a long time to trust you, don’t think it took him a long time to fall in love with you..

- he fell first, and harder.

- he calls you his “sun-ray” while talking about you.

- when he goes to sleep he thinks about how much better you deserve while he tears up. You don’t need a burden like him, he was convinced.

- he feels like he shouldn’t even look at you, with him being so ugly, unclean, dirty.

- yet when you grab his cheeks and look into his eyes he just melts into your touch and hesitantly starts kissing your hands.

- he will bow down and kiss your feet no question if you ask ..

- when he sees you with ume he almost cries every time. Seeing his sister be so loved by some he so loves..

- his lips are chapped, so it’s not pleasant to kiss but he puts all of his love into his kisses you barely notice his chapped lips.

- he is forever grateful and SO in love with you.

- sometimes he just breaks down because he can’t pay for a proper wedding to marry you.

- his sister ADORES you. You guys brush each others hair, look at pretty kimonos together, it’s so fun :(.

- he’s always at your home despite feelings horrible about it. The first time he came over he didn’t move an inch from the front door for about 10 minutes because he kept saying he was too dirty to walk in your home.

- sometimes, he’ll lay his head on your thighs and just look at you with so much love you nearly pass out. He’s so in love with you it’s crazy, and it’s SO noticeable.

- his love language is words of affirmation. Please call him pretty even if he doesn’t believe it.

- he tells you how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to end up with you, how talented you are, almost daily.

- well, I hope nothing goes wrong :).

Demon slayer reqs open.

Tags

[dovesdreaming]

Whispers of forever

Summary: shy reader and Neil Perry meet when they’re partnered up for a poetry assignment. They’re love blossoms throughout it.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

The school bell echoed through the hallway, signaling the end of another tedious English class. Neil Perry gathered his books, ready to bolt out of the classroom, when the teacher's voice halted him. "Everyone a moment please”. You froze in your seat as Mr. Keating gestured for people in pairs to go to the front of his desk. When it was your turn he called Neil Perry up along with you, you’d always admired Neil from afar, his confidence, his smile that lit up any room, and the way he seemed to carry a lightness that made him stand out among your classmates. The idea of being paired with him for anything made your heart race.

"You two will be working together on the upcoming poetry project” Mr. Keating said with a knowing smile. "I think you’ll make a fine team”. Neil grinned, clearly unfazed. "Sounds great, Mr. Keating”. You nodded, unable to muster up anything more than that. Your voice had a tendency to get caught in your throat when you were nervous, and right now, it felt like you were trying to swallow a whole apple. "Alright, I'll let you both get to it”. Mr. Keating said, turning back to his desk as the last few students filed out. "Remember, make it extraordinary!".

Once outside the classroom, Neil turned to you, his bright smile warming the chilly hallway. "So, Y/N, do you have any ideas?.Your mind blanked for a moment before you managed to stammer out, "M-Maybe we could, um, meet in the library after school? We can start brainstorming." Neil's smile widened. "Perfect. I’ll see you there at 4?". You nodded again, the butterflies in your stomach doing cartwheels. You watched him walk away, wondering how you were going to survive working on a project with someone like Neil Perry without making a complete fool of yourself.

At just before 4pm you arrived at the library, your nerves bubbling up again. You’d chosen a table tucked away in a quiet corner, hoping the isolation might help calm you down. You pulled out your notebook, pretending to review your notes, though your thoughts were completely scattered.

"Hey, Y/N!" Neil’s voice cut through your nervous thoughts. He slid into the seat across from you, his smile just as bright as it had been earlier. "I hope you didn’t have to wait too long”. “N- Not at all” you replied, trying to meet his gaze. His eyes were warm, and there was something about the way he looked at you, like he actually wanted to be there with you, that made your nerves settle, just a little. “So” Neil began, pulling out his own notebook. "I was thinking we could start by choosing a theme. Something that resonates with both of us. Any ideas?". You bit your lip, your mind racing. "Um... what about... the idea of freedom? Like... breaking away from expectations?". Neil’s eyes lit up. "I love that. It's something that feels really personal to me, too”. He paused, a hint of seriousness in his tone. "Sometimes, it feels like everyone’s watching, waiting for you to be something… you’re not”. You nodded, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. "I know what you mean”. He looked at you for a moment, his expression softening. "I’m glad we’re doing this together, Y/N. I think we can make something really meaningful”. You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze. "Me too”.

As you started to bounce ideas off each other, the initial awkwardness began to fade. Neil was patient, encouraging you to share your thoughts and making you feel like every idea you had was valuable. His passion for the project was contagious, and soon you found yourself getting more comfortable, more excited. Days passed, and every meeting brought you closer. You started to see sides of Neil that surprised you. His thoughtfulness, his insecurities, the depth of his emotions. And he, in turn, seemed to notice the little things about you, like how your eyes sparkled when you talked about a topic you were passionate about, or how you would absentmindedly twirl a strand of hair when you were talking and even how you bit your lip when concentrating.

It was after one particularly late study session that something shifted. The library was nearly empty, the sun setting outside, casting a warm glow through the windows. You were both laughing over a joke Neil had made when the laughter died down, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. “Y/N” Neil said softly, his gaze locking with yours. "I… I really enjoy spending time with you”. Your heart skipped a beat. "I enjoy it too, Neil”.

He reached out, gently covering your hand with his. "I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re… you’re different in a good way and I can’t get enough of it”. You stared at his hand on yours, warmth spreading from where his skin touched yours. “I’m just… me”. And that’s enough," Neil whispered. "More than enough”.

The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken words. You looked up at him, and for the first time, you saw a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own. Slowly, as if testing the waters, Neil leaned forward, giving you plenty of time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you met him halfway, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips brushed against yours in the gentlest of kisses. It was brief, sweet, but it held a promise of more, of something real and tangible that had grown between you over the weeks. When you pulled back, Neil’s smile was softer, more tender. “Let’s make this project something unforgettable” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "Together”.

And as you sat there, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

The autumn leaves had turned shades of amber and gold, crunching beneath your feet as you and Neil walked side by side through the woods behind Welton Academy. The crisp air was filled with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace whenever you were out here with him. The poetry project had long since been completed, earning you both top marks, but more importantly, it had been the start of something far more meaningful.

Now, a few months into your relationship, things felt as natural as the changing seasons. Neil’s hand was warm in yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand as you wandered deeper into the woods, the sounds of the school fading into the background. He had suggested the walk earlier that day, claiming he needed a break from studying, and you had been more than happy to oblige. Any excuse to spend time with him was a good one.

Neil slowed his pace, eventually stopping altogether in a small clearing. The ground was blanketed with leaves, and the trees overhead created a canopy that filtered the afternoon sunlight into soft, golden beams. He turned to face you, his expression soft, his eyes full of something that made your breath catch. “You know” he said, his voice low and warm, "when we first started working together, I never imagined we’d end up here. But now… I can’t imagine my life without you in it”. His words made your heart race, and you felt a familiar shyness creep up, though it was tinged with the warmth of knowing he felt the same way. "I feel the same, Neil. You’ve made everything so much… brighter”. Neil’s smile was tender as he gently tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a loose embrace. You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world, a sanctuary from all the pressures and expectations that weighed on both of you.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N” he murmured into your hair. "I just wanted you to know that." You closed your eyes, letting the moment sink in. "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too, Neil”.

For a while, you simply stood there together, wrapped up in each other and the quiet of the woods. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect little bubble. Eventually, Neil pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so he could look into your eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that?" he said, his voice full of sincerity. You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t look away this time. Instead, you smiled, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. "You’re not so bad yourself, Perry”. He chuckled softly before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, your lips. The kiss was soft, unhurried, full of the unspoken emotions that had been building between you. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cool air. “Let’s stay like this forever” he whispered. You nodded, your heart full to bursting. "Forever”.

And in that moment, with the golden leaves falling gently around you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, forever was within reach.

-

Thank you for reading! Please request more dps

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Record Store)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You paused, untangling your hand from Tara’s as quickly as possible, ignoring the pout on her face, as you pulled out an album.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You woke up to the smell of bacon, your mouth already watering as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep. You stretched out, snuggling further into the warm bed, Tara shifting as she cuddled closer. You looked down, seeing her still sound asleep, you smiled at peace with finally having met Sam and her friends. Sneaking around with her was fun but officially meeting everyone was better, they were so nice, even though Sam was still intimidating you knew you could trust her.

“Morning,” Tara mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Is that bacon?” She pushed herself up, looking around as if she’d be able to see the bacon.

You giggled, pushing your head further into the pillow. Tara hovered above you, looking down at you with a soft smile that hadn’t left her lips since the two of you fell asleep. “Chad did say they’d be back for breakfast,” you said.

“Guess we better get up then, besides Sam isn’t a half bad cook.”

The two of you rolled out of bed after a few more minutes of cuddling. You were both hungry but neither of you had the the desire to leave the warm comfort of the bed. It was getting colder, you wanted to go to the record store, but you didn’t have a desire to be dragged from store to store with Anika with it being so chilly, not when you could stay inside cozied up with Tara where it was warm.

The two of you finally made your way out of the room and into the kitchen where Sam was flipping the last of the breakfast onto a plate. “Morning,” she greeted with a soft smile. “How’d you sleep?”

You sighed, remembering that you had woken up from a nightmare, Tara made it easier to sleep but the nightmares still came. After your talk with Sam, you had gone back to bed and slept peacefully the rest of the night. “Better,” you said your voice still raspy with sleep. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

Tara dragged you to the dining table, refusing to let go of your hand. You rubbed your eyes, thinking maybe you were dreaming at the spread before you. There was bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, biscuits, and a couple boxes of cereal.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Sam said, a light blush decorating her cheeks.

“It all looks amazing,” you said, smiling, as you took your seat at the table.

“She also eats like a five-year-old,” Tara commented, giving you a pointed look as you had a piece of bacon in your mouth. “Would eat pizza rolls and Dino nuggets for every meal if they could.”

You pouted as you finished chewing your bacon. “They’re simple and good,” you defended. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You eat like a child.”

“Sometimes I make mashed potatoes.”

“From a box.”

“Shut up.” You grabbed another piece of bacon, silently chewing on it as you looked down at your plate.

“Good morning!” Chad shouted, flinging the door open as he entered.

“It’s too early for this,” Mindy said, rubbing her temple as she curled into Anika’s side.

“Holy shit!” Chads eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the table of food. He rushed forward, grabbing a plate and began loading it up with everything.

“Damn, Sam,” Mindy said, her eyes wide as well. “Why don’t you ever do this for us?” She chuckled as she grabbed a seat, bringing Anika with her.

After everyone finished breakfast, leaving absolutely nothing left, the six of you headed out, making your way to the record store. There were several record stores downtown and you had been to all of them of course but you had a favorite. The one you liked got all the new vinyl’s when they were released and regularly got in new inventory of older and hard to find albums. The store also had a cat that roamed around and if you were lucky, it let you pet it.

The little bell jingled as you pushed the door open, the sight brought a smile to your face. There were rows upon rows of vinyl’s, all alphabetized or separated by genre. There was a rack up front right by the register filled with everything new. You knew nothing you wanted came out recently, but you still browsed the new releases just in case you missed something. Chad wandered off into one corner, flipping through vinyl of the type of music he liked. Mindy dragged Anika to another corner, but Anika was more than happy to follow.

Tara held your hand, your fingers intertwined as you weaved your way through the rows. There weren’t many people in the store, it was a Saturday, but they hadn’t even been open an hour. You had been here enough times that you didn’t need to look at everything else as you made your way to the section you wanted. You let out a sigh at seeing the little card that said ‘Soundtracks’. Other music was good but getting a vinyl of your favorite movie score or, better yet, a video game score was your favorite. You had most of your favorite scores already but there were older ones you still kept an eye out for. They got old stock in regularly; you never knew when someone would sell their vinyl collection and one you have been after for years would make its way here.

Sam was slowly walking through the aisles, trying not to hover but clearly out of place and sticking close to Tara. You didn’t mind, you were happy Sam seemed to like you so far and that she willingly came out with all of you. Sam had her hands shoved in her pockets as her eyes glanced around the room. You saw her flinch out of the corner of your eye, when you looked to make sure she was okay you saw the little orange store cat rubbing its head against her legs. You smiled, silently chuckling to yourself, the cat loved to jump on the tables and walk around while people were looking but he didn’t usually go right up to people, especially not new people.

“You’re lucky,” you said. “It took me three months of coming here once a week to get him to let me even pet him,” you nodded at the little orange cat.

Sam smiled, she was about to reach down and pet the little guy when he jumped up on the rack of vinyl near her. He perked his little head up, his paws at the edge of the rack as he tried to reach Sam, to force her to pet him. Sam complied and began running her fingers through his fur, scratching behind his ears until he lifted his head up, making her scratch under his chin.

“Does this mean we can get a cat?” Tara asked, smiling innocently at Sam.

“Tara,” Sam sighed. She gave her sister a tired look, she opened her mouth to probably deny Tara about a pet but was cut off when the record cat stood on its hind legs and placed its front paws on her chest. She faced the cat, smiling down at it again as she ran her hands down his back again. “I’ll think about it,” she finally mumbled.

Tara didn’t say anything else, she just gave a wide smile and leaned into your side. She squeezed your hand as she cuddled closer to you. You shook your head smiling at her, you knew Tara always wanted a pet of some sort, but her mom always said no and even if Sam wanted a pet, it wasn’t convenient living in the city, in a small apartment. Sam probably didn’t realize saying she’d think about it was basically a yes to Tara, now Sam wouldn’t hear the end of it until she gave an official yes.

With your free hand you flipped through the various soundtracks, most of which you either had or were from something you had never seen before. You paused, untangling your hand from Tara’s as quickly as possible, ignoring the pout on her face, as you pulled out an album. You smiled widely; you were sure your eyes were sparkling with childlike glee. You had found it, you had finally found it, it was The Last of Us soundtrack. You had the second one, you had the one from the show, but you had missed out on the one from the first game. You flipped through some more, your excitement reigniting, maybe you’d get lucky and find more than one of the ones you’ve been searching for.

You didn’t find anything else that you had been dying to have but you pulled out the Ghost of Tsushima Iki Island soundtrack. You had been putting off getting it because it was expensive, but more time was passing, and you didn’t want to wait too long and end up missing it. You sighed and stuck in under your arm with the other one.

“Don’t you already have that?” Tara asked, wrapping her arm around yours as she intertwined your hands again. You looked down, smiling, Tara was making it as difficult as possible for you to let go of her hand again.

“I have the Ghost of Tsushima soundtrack,” you answered. “For the main game. This,” you nodded to the vinyl in your hands, “is the Iki Island soundtrack.” Tara raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were insane. “Iki Island was an expansion.” Tara continued to only blink at you. “They’re completely different!”

Tara opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when Chad came stumbling towards you guys, nearly dropping all the stuff in his arms. “This place is amazing!” he said, looking around at everything as he tried to re-situate his hands.

All three of you laughed at Chad struggling. “Are you serious?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked the boy up and down.

Chad looked down at the pile in his arms. “Well, I like this music,” he nodded to the stack of vinyl’s in his arm. “And I need a record player,” he nodded to his other hands. He had a small record player tucked under his arm and it looked like a nice one, probably over a hundred bucks. “Otherwise, me buying the vinyl would just be crazy.”

The three of you shook your heads as you watched Chad make his way to the front counter. He somehow managed to set everything on the counter without dropping a thing. The three of you made your way up behind him, watching as the owner rang up the record player then each of the vinyl, which Chad managed to find several of.

“Your total is three-hundred and forty-two dollars,” the owner said once he had everything scanned.

“Holy shit,” Tara said, looking up at Chad with wide eyes. “Are you insane?”

Chad furrowed his brow as he looked down at Tara while he struggled to fish out his wallet.

“How are you going to afford that?” Sam asked. “You don’t even have a job.”

“Emergency credit card,” Chad answered, holding up the little blue credit card. He smiled as he handed it to the man behind the counter. The man sighed taking the card before swiping it.

“Mom is going to kill you,” Mindy said, joining them at the counter with Anika in tow. “That’s meant for food and necessities.”

“Yeah, and you going to the movies last week was a necessity?”

Mindy crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “The movies isn’t three-hundred dollars.”

“Tickets are over fifteen!”

“That’s not the point!”

You shook your head, pushing your way to the front of the counter while the twins argued. Tara and Sam seemed to already be ignoring them, you had a feeling that it was an hourly occurrence for them.

“I’ll take this,” Anika said, sliding next to you as she plopped The Last of Us vinyl out of your hands. You opened your mouth to stop her, but she didn’t let you get a word out as she held up a hand to silence you. “I told you I would buy you a soundtrack for hugging you to tightly.” The owner behind the counter gave the two of you a weird side glance but continued to bag Chad’s vinyl’s. “So, I am buying this for you.” She gently shoved you away, putting herself at the front of the line and smiling at the man as she sat down your vinyl and the one, she picked out.

“How don’t you already have Hamilton?” you nodded to the vinyl she was buying for herself. “You love that play. You’ve made me watch it over a dozen times.”

“It’s expensive,” she said, holding out her card for the man. “I mean it’s Hamilton!” you chuckled, shaking your head at her. She wasn’t wrong, it was a bit more pricey than the average album. “And there’s a sale going on, so I have to grab it.”

“Of course.” You made your way back to the front as Anika grabbed her bag of stuff. You handed over your vinyl and card as the man rang it up.

“Just be prepared when you come over,” Anika said, shifting her bag around as she pulled out the album she bought for you so you could slip it in your own bag. “I will be listening to nothing else of the next six months.”

“I know how you are.” You smiled at the owner, thanking him as you grabbed the bag of your stuff.

The twins continued to argue as the six of you left the record store. Anika was quick to point to a costume shop across the street that she literally dragged Mindy to. The other four of you followed close behind them. Tara took the bag with your purchases, carrying it in her other hand so she could still keep ahold of you, and you didn’t have to carry a bag in your injured hand, even though you were down to just the brace it tended to ache after a while.

You didn’t know how long you were in the costume shop but when you all left it was the afternoon and Anika had several bundles of fabric and other types of material for costumes. She struggled to carry all of her bags, looking at Mindy with puppy dog eyes to try and get her girlfriend to help out. Mindy scoffed and continued to walk, saying that since she bought everything, she could carry it.

As the six of you made your way down the street you hit up some more shops. There were a few card or sport memorabilia shops Chad wanted to go in, that all of you begrudgingly followed him into since he was going to the stores you wanted. You were sure by the end of the trip Chad had spent near a thousand dollars, all on his emergency credit card. You didn’t necessarily agree that going to the movies was an emergency, but you did agree with Mindy, Chad would certainly be hearing from their mom.

For a late lunch you all stopped at a little Chinese restaurant, laughing and joking around about the day and the amount of money Chad spent. Every time someone brought up one of Chad’s purchases, he was quick to defend himself and explain why it was crucial he bought it today. You didn’t know everything he bought besides the stuff at the record store, but he left with bags full in every sports shop you all entered, and he had more than one jersey in his hand. You might not have known much about sports, but you were aware jerseys were expensive and you were sure being the sports guy that he was that Chad wouldn’t settle for less than the nice ones.

When you finally made it back to the Carpenters apartment, Tara pulled you down onto the couch, cuddling up to you as she rested her head on your shoulder. None of you said a word, just enjoying the silence as Chad struggled to open his record player, saying he needed to test it out and make sure everyone was educated on good music. When he had it set up, he opened one of his records and music quickly filled the once quiet apartment.

Chad jumped to his feet and instantly began dancing, he tried to pull Sam into a dance, but she quickly found herself needing to go to the kitchen. Chad waved her off, not letting it kill his mood as he continued to dance alone. Mindy laughed and shook her head at her brother, pouting once Anika got off her lap and took pity on Chad, joining him in his dancing.

You laughed and had fun with Tara and her friends. You had just met Sam, Mindy, and Chad officially the day before but once you got Sam’s approval, they were quick to welcome you into the group. You talked with them and teased Chad along with them as if you had always known them. It got so late that Tara convinced Sam to let you stay the night again, this time the others took up the offer to stay as well.

While Tara dragged you to her room for the night Anika, Mindy, and Chad were getting themselves situated in the living room. Mindy took one end of the couch while Anika took the other since it wasn’t a pullout couch. Sam tossed Chad some extra blankets and pillows and he made himself a little nest on the floor.

“They like you,” Tara whispered as she played with your hair in the darkness of her room.

“I like them,” you whispered back.

“Just remember you’re my girlfriend first,” she sat up and through the dark you knew she was giving you a pointed look.

“Don’t worry,” you leaned up and kissed her. “I won’t choose them over you.”

“Good,” she cuddled back into your side.

“Unless Anika gets tickets to Hamilton,” you added. “Then you’re on your own that night.”

Tara lightly smacked your shoulder, careful not to hit any of your injuries. You lightly chuckled, wrapping your injured arm around her as best as you could. She continued to snuggle into your side with the help of you pulling her as close as you could. Your ribs ached from the pressure, but you quickly got used to it as your body slowly settled down.

“Love you,” you mumbled into Tara’s hair. You heard her mumble a reply, but sleep had already mostly taken her, with you following soon after.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @youralphawolf72