#well not armed exactly one was wrapped around his neck and one WAS armed but regardless

[luveline]

Hotch request w Jack and new baby!!! Coming back from the hospital and reader is in bed with new baby and Jack while Aaron is in another part of the house (maybe making food in the kitchen) and reader starts crying because she’s in pain and jack is all concerned and sweet and goes to get Aaron??

thank you for requesting, sorry I messed up where everyone was! fem, 1.3k

“He’s gonna stab him!” 

You blink from the spot you’d been staring at, pain momentarily forgotten. “What! Where’d you learn that word?” you ask in surprise. 

Jack leans back against his big velvet pillow, blue with silver stars, looking as though he’s in the lap of luxury. “At school.” 

The cartoon mouse on the TV raises his fencing sword high in the air. 

“He’s not stabbing anyone, they’re fencing,” you say, reaching for his hand to hold. “Stabbing… that’s pretty scary. How did that make you feel?” 

“Well, I’m not gonna stab anyone,” Jack says. 

He’s confused that you’re making a fuss, just old enough to realise you’re poking around for his feelings. You worry lately that you aren’t paying him enough attention because of his new brother, and the word stab isn’t exactly age appropriate. 

But maybe that’s what the boys his age are talking about? You frown more, your hand slipping along his arm to curl behind him. You pull him toward you. “Come on, handsome. Cuddle me.” 

You’re too sore to move, so Jack has to come to you. He crawls across the couch until his arms can wrap around you and his cheek can rest against your chest. Stab is an apt word for the feeling in your stomach. Jack’s arm squeezes at you and the pain worsens, so you move it up your front and curl your arm around him. 

“Is it a bad word?” he asks. 

“No, it’s just like hit or slap, I guess. And I know you’re not gonna do any of that to anyone. You’re too gentle.” 

“Gentle is a good word.” 

“Yeah.” You kiss his forehead, a moment of self indulgence. You love your stepson, and he is oh so kissable. “Oh no, look at the mouse.” 

Charlie sleeps in his swing seat, the soft whirring of its constant motion almost as comforting as the sound of his soft breaths. You watch him for a while, Jack climbing up at your side to press his face to your neck, leg on your thigh, slowly pressing against the tenderness that is your abdomen. “Uh, Jack,” you breathe, trying to pick him up, “you’re gonna have to climb off of me, my tummy hurts too much.” 

“Sorry,” he says quickly, slipping off of you and onto the couch cushion. His foot kicks out as he rights himself, a jamming of his toes against the pain like a spike. 

You take a deep breath. Ouch. 

“It’s okay,” you say, groaning softly as the pain thrums, hand on your stomach as though your touch can make it stop, “just a tummy ache. I– I’m okay.” 

“You got little tears?” he says, his voice going wobbly. You try to blink away tears and end up with a straggler curving down the slope of your cheek. “I’ll go get dad!” 

“Jack, I’m okay,” you say. 

Too late. Jack scrambles from the couch and away from you, up the stairs to find his father. You’re not sure what Aaron’s up to, he’d only said, “I’ll be right back,” twenty minutes ago. You’d guessed laundry. 

You’re glad Jack’s run upstairs when you realise the pain isn’t going away. It’s not bad, not half as bad as your contractions had been, but the whole labour process has sapped you, and you feel weak as a willow branch in bad weather. You shift heavily onto one leg and cross them, uncross them when the pain spikes again, letting out a weird and breathless whine as it turns to a full blown cramp. 

Jack returns with Aaron in tow. His hair is dripping wet, soap suds on his neck and his shirt stuck to his chest. He’s rushed out of the shower to see you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he rounds the couch. “Jack told me you’re not feeling well.” 

You hold your arms out for a hug. He doesn’t falter, simply does as you want, his hair wringing wet and dripping onto your shoulder as he gathers you in his arms. 

You hold onto him like a lifeline. The cramp curls, and tightens, has you seizing up against him. 

“What is it?” he asks softly. “Stomach pains again?” 

The nurse said it’s your uterus shrinking. Whatever it is, it’s sudden agony. You shudder into Aaron’s shoulder until the pain pangs and fades, leaving your stomach a tense mess. It hurts to move, so you stay clinging to your husband and let him hover over you. 

“Are you okay?” Jack asks.

You sniff. 

Aaron pulls away to take your face into his hands. He holds you with care, his thumbs under your jaw, index fingers running diagonally under each eye, tips at your brows. Just a stolen few seconds for him to check you over. No tears to be wiped away. 

“Still hurting?” 

You shake your head, eyebrows pulled down in a bad frown. 

“Okay. Alright. Motrin?” he asks. 

“No,” you whisper, “can you just stay here?” 

Jack says your name. 

You peek past Aaron’s body. “Jack, sorry.” 

“Are you okay now?” 

You grimace, “I’m gonna be fine, it just hurts sometimes and I didn’t have any medicine today. That’s all. Sorry, I scared you.” 

“You didn’t scare me,” he denies. 

You can’t help smiling, then. “Okay, I didn’t. Thanks for getting dad for me.” 

“He’s our hero,” Aaron says. He sits down beside you carefully, his voice quiet and his hand gentle as he holds your thigh. “I’m glad he did.” 

Jack climbs into his dad’s lap. Aaron wraps an arm around him, the other at your side, fingers tapping at you. 

You rub your forehead. Tip your head back and take a deep breath. 

“Jack,” you whisper, breathing out, “I’m sorry if I startled you. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“It wasn’t scary, I said that already.” 

“Oh, you did?” Aaron teases. 

“It was okay, I just don’t want you to hurt.” 

“Only baby pains,” you say. 

For a few minutes, you and your small family sit there in silence. Aaron works a hand behind your back to hug you, Jack snuggles into his chest, and Charlie stirs in his swing seat. The quiet calms him, and he goes back to his soft snoring seconds later. 

“I’m sorry about your shower,” you whisper. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about my baby,” Aaron whispers back, drawing circles into your lower back, “he didn’t mean to chew you up.” 

“Ugh, I know.” 

Jack raises his nose. “What? Chew? Do babies bite?” 

“It’s an expression, babe.” 

“Oh.” He looks at his baby brother with suspicion anyways. “He doesn’t even have teeth?” 

“Buddy, it’s just a joke,” Aaron says, laughing as Jack slips out of his lap to go and look at Charlie in the seat. 

“Maybe he did have teeth,” you say. 

Aaron ushers you toward him, rests his cheek on your forehead. “It’ll feel better soon. You need to rest, that’s all.” 

“Your hair is so wet.” 

“I was in the shower.” 

“Sorry…” 

“Don’t be,” he says. “Don’t be.” 

You reach up to tousle his wet hair. “Miss showering with you.” 

“We showered last night.” 

“No, I stood there and you helped me wash my back, that’s not the same.” 

“Well, I enjoyed it.” 

“I bet you did.” 

Your fondness attracts many, many kisses, his nose nuzzling your cheek. You settle under the weight of him and watch Jack where he frowns at Charlie, big brown eyes squinted, waiting for a show of teeth that won’t happen. Aaron brings a hand to your tense stomach, waiting for you to lean back before he begins massaging the tensed muscle there with a slowness that borders unmoving. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says. 

“You can go finish your shower.” 

“I was finished. M’gonna start pressing in, okay?” 

You wince as Aaron begins, but slowly, slowly, the tenseness from your cramp softens. It still hurts, but he makes it manageable. Jack delivered your rescuer, and your rescuer loves a soft touch.

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

divider by: @/floriseu

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 14

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; death

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

For the sake of the story.... let's just pretend that 141 and Laswell worked their magic and Price, Kyle, and Johnny made it just in time lmao! I know that's not how it works in real life :)

You jumped when you heard a loud BANG go off. But it wasn't the sound of Jax's gun that made you jump. It sounded more muffled - more distant - like it was on the other side of the door and down the hallway. You opened your eyes, releasing the breath that you were holding, seeing Simon very much still alive and looking directly at you.

However, the other four men inside of the room turned to the face the door with their guns pointed. Andrei said something in Russian before the two guards walked up to the door. There was a brief pause, as Andrei walked up behind them before one of the men opened it and they left the room.

God, you were fucking scared.

When the sound of multiple gunshots rang outside of the room, you wished you could have been able to cover your ears, the loud popping noises felt like it was deafening you. Surely, you wouldn't be able to hear after that.

In a moment of panic, Jax marched over and stood beside you, pointing his gun at the side of your head. Simon continued to look at you, the chaos not even phasing him. At least on the outside... on the inside, he was worried. Half secretly thanking whatever god there was that Johnny saw the damn text, but half nervous about whose shots were going off.

Then there was silence. Ghostly silence.

The only thing that could be heard were your small sniffles and Jax's heavy breathing. The anticipation of who was about to walk through that door had both you and Simon's pulse racing. But when three sets of footsteps quickly walked in, and you saw three men you instantly recognized, you wanted to let out a scream of happiness. And by the look on your face, Simon knew exactly who walked in, as his back had been facing the door this entire time.

"Let 'em go," Price commanded, his weapon pointed to Jax.

A menacing chuckle left Jax's mouth, "I will shoot her," he said, pushing the barrel of the gun against your temple, making you whimper.

"Let my wife go Jax," Simon said, making the man narrow his eyes at him.

"No," he growled, "You're going to suffer just like we did! All of you! I will kill every single one of you!"

"Then let's talk 'bout it," Johnny chimed in.

Jax threw his head back a little as he laughed, "Talk about it?.. we're done talking. Your nation should have talked about it four years ago! But now..... now you will pay," he quickly glanced at you, holding that evil smirk as always.

The moment his finger tried to pull the trigger, a shot rang out. John's perfect aim successfully pierced a bullet through Jax's head, instantly killing him as his body fell backward to the ground. Simon's body relaxed before Johnny rushed to his friend, cutting the ropes and freeing him, while Kyle ran over to you, doing the same as well as pulling the duct tape off of your mouth.

"You okay?" He asked. But you barely could nod your head.

Your body felt like mush and static at the same time, with the flow of blood finally making its way back into your hands and feet. But that wasn't the only feeling that you had. The second that Simon was kneeling down in front of you, you lurched out of the chair into his arms. You thought you had cried so much that you couldn't produce any more tears, but when his arms wrapped around your waist, you felt so many emotions. The one that topped them all was love.

"I got you, sweetheart. I got you," He said into the crook of your neck.

You couldn't even respond, the only noise coming from you was the slight wailing of cries. It was all too much. And it came crashing down all at once. But you knew one thing... you and Simon made it out alive.

************************************************************************

141 stood in the conference room while Laswell was displayed on the monitor. It was.. strange - talking about a mission that involved you. At least it was for your husband.

Never in a million years did Simon want to talk about such things like death and evilness when it came to you... but there he was, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as Laswell explained everything; the truth.

Jax - whose real name was Leonid - had disguised himself as a British soldier in order to obtain access on base. His main goal was to use Pvt Williams as a means to get personal information on certain individuals... including 141. He had no intention of bringing you into the situation.. even when he sent you the videos. He was a young soldier - a pawn in the bigger picture - and at first, he didn't really want to get any civilians involved. (He had somewhat of a heart at least... or he wasn't as much of a killer as he seemed) That was something they had yet to figure out. But it made sense as to why he tried getting you to leave Simon by approaching you with some bullshit story that day.

But when his superior, Andrei, found out that things were taking a little bit longer than planned, he took over the operation, deciding to kidnap you. The only thing Jax almost begged to do was at least make Simon suffer for cheating on you.

But why did all of this happen? Why did they do this?

Because four years earlier, 141 captured their leader. Their commander.

Vladimir Makarov.

They wanted revenge.

"Nolan escaped. He's still out there Laswell," Kyle said.

When the three of them sneaked their way into the building and came in contact with Andrei and the guards, shots rang out, but somehow Andrei Nolan had escaped through the chaos. He was still out there.... and they needed to plan what was going to happen next.

"For now, we need to make sure everythin' is secure," Price said before turning to Simon, "How's Y/n doin'?" He asked.

He nodded, "Fine."

You were, for the most part. After you and Simon were rescued, you were taken to the hospital on base to make sure everything was okay. You kept telling Simon you really didn't need to go, but he insisted you got checked out. Because of the bruising on your wrists and ankles, they decided to keep you overnight for observation. It was ridiculous and you wanted to leave, but with your husband right by your side, it made things easier.

And by your side, he would stay until Price called him for debriefing. He didn't want to leave... he almost told the guys to come to the hospital, but you persuaded him to go and that you'd be fine. So he left.... reluctantly so. But before he did, he made sure the nurses kept an eye on your door. No one was allowed to go in except him or the doctor.

"Talk to her 'bout the plans yeah? Don't wanna risk us losing her again," Price continued.

Again, Simon nodded before leaving and heading right back to the hospital; to you. When he walked into the room, your eyes were closed. The quiet noise from the TV let him know you probably had been watching it before drifting off to sleep. He sat down in the chair next to the bed as he looked at you, eyes glancing down at your wrist. The purple bruises causing a tightening feeling in his stomach.

You were never supposed to be hurt. By him. By Jax. By no one in the world. You were pure - heart and all. Yet you had gone through more pain than he ever imagined. He didn't think he could live with himself if you had been killed.

With a soft sigh, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at the ceiling, waking up from your dreamless nap. Your eyes shifted and met those of your husbands, a small smile forming on your lips that made his heart lunge out for you.

"Hey," you whispered, "How'd it go?"

His hand reached out to you and grabbed yours softly, his thumb rubbing the knuckles of your hand in comfort, "Fine."

You hummed, eyes grazing over his balaclava. You briefly remembered about the first time you met him. The balaclava intimating you in a curious way.. you were so curious about him; about his life But never were you afraid of him. He tried so hard to keep you at arm's length, even when he was falling for you. And you kept tearing down the shields he wanted so hard to remain between you two.

Nothing could have prepared you for what would happen seven years later. After he proposed. After the wedding. It was difficult to think about it.

"I'm sorry," he lowly said, making your eyes meet his again.

Softly shaking your head, "It's okay Si-"

"No. It's not," He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I ruined everythin'. I hurt you... in more ways than I ever thought I would. I don't deserve you."

His eyes began to water at seeing how yours were starting to. A moment went by as you stared at each other. You didn't know what he was thinking, but you knew how you felt.

"I love you," you said, making his eyebrows furrow a little. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you say it. He just knew he didn't deserve your love anymore... yet there you were, giving it to him. "I love you so fucking much, Simon. And I always will," You said, making his eyes soften.

"You deserve better than me," He said.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about what you both had become, "But I want to be with you."

It was hard hearing you say that for him. He knew every muscle in his body was telling him to let you go; to bring you peace and happiness. But hearing you say that you wanted to be with him made his stomach flip.

"I promise I'll do whatever you want. I'll make this right sweetheart," He said, his own tear falling from his eye before it disappeared into the cotton material of the balaclava, "I love you."

That small smile turned into a bigger one as you nodded, making a smile form on his own lips - one that you could even see with the crinkle of his eyes. He continued to hold your hand, the two of you sitting in silence and gazing into each other's tearful eyes.

You didn't know what the future would hold for your marriage. You didn't know if things would turn out the opposite of what you just told him. But one thing was for certain... you loved that man with all of you. And that's all that mattered - to love through it all.

THE END.

Well..... that's it for "Love Through It All"... (at least the initial plot). I would like to continue this on as Andrei got away so we don't know what happened after that do we? lol! If you're interested in it, let me know. I also may continue this on over on my AO3 account (I do plan to post this over there as well). And eventually I also may do some edits to the story and change a few things but I'm not sure yet :)I did have some people ask about doing an alternate ending where reader leaves Simon, so sometime this week I do plan to start writing that and post it. I just want to make sure I'm not changing too much to the plot. If you all think I may have left some things out and you want to ask questions about any "behind the scenes" on something in the story, feel free to ask away or message me!

This has been a joy to write and share with you all! I usually start stories and then get bad writer's block to the point where I never finish them, so I'm so glad you all took this journey with me!

I do have two other stories on my AO3 that I started, so I plan to continue them (possibly starting next week I will post a new chapter).

I love you all so much! Take care <3

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[latenightdaydreams]

Blacksmith!König x Farmers Wife Part 2 (fem)

Part 1

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, cheating, p in v, oral

1.3k word count

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You wake up before the sun begins to rise. The first thing you do is rush to the bathroom to wash your body well; you want to smell fresh for König. Last night he consumed your dreams. Dreams of his hard, muscular body pressing up against yours as he drips sweat down on to you. The thought sends chills down your spine.

As you linger in front of the wardrobe dripping wet you grab your mauve red dress, the fanciest one you have. You dress quickly, spritzing yourself with the perfume you were gifted the day of your wedding; it’s remained on your vanity untouched all this time. With one last look in the mirror, you rush out the door to the stables.

The ride seems to pass by quicker than before, your mind wandering to unholy places helped consume that time. You turn down the familiar dirt path, riding up to the barn to dismount your horse. He’s not in the barn, so you turn towards his home instead. You climb the two steps to his front door, knocking softly.

König sits in his kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee when he barely hears your knock. His eyes dart towards the door and step forward. Only wearing jeans, he opens the door to look down and see you. Your eyes drop to his chest before meeting his gaze again and smiling. The golden hue from the sun causes your eyes to shimmer and skin to glow. He stands there for a while, looking down at your cleavage then slowly back up to your eyes.

“What can I do for you, Schatz?”

The way he speaks sends a shiver down your spine; his wandering eyes don’t go unnoticed by you, causing you to blush. For a moment, you forget the reason you came here. All you can focus on is his sculpted body and shining blue eyes.

“I- I forgot my ax.”

“Ja?” König leans against his door frame, looking you up and down still. “Let’s go fetch it then.”

You step aside as he walks forward, closing the front door behind him, following him like a little puppy to the barn. His back muscles flex, almost putting you in a trance. He looks exactly like the drawing in books of Greek gods.

König pulls open the door of the barn, looking down to where he remembers you placing it. He bends down and grabs it, turning to face you now. You hold your hands out to grab it, but he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he just lingers, gazing down at you as he steps forward. The smell of your floral perfume hits his nose as he stands only a few inches from you.

“You came all the way here, dressed in such a lovely dress…” König reaches out with one hand to rest it on your waist, “smelling of flowers, just as the sun comes up…for an ax?”

A small blush crosses your cheeks as he calls you out. His massive hand on your waist feels so warm and welcoming, making you crave the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. Only a jumble of words spills out, not able to think quickly on your feet while so flustered.

“You came back for more, ja?” König leans in closer. “You came back for me?”

Before you even answer he leans in and kisses you, carefully dropping the ax to the floor. With both hands he grips your hips and squeezes as he pulls you against his chest. His mouth opens, slipping his tongue past your lips. Your tongues swirl around one another’s, causing your pussy to tingle from excitement.

König lets his hands slip to your ass, squeezing as he lifts you up into his arms; you wrap your legs around his torso as he walks forward with you. He takes your lack of protest as consent for him to do what he’s about to. Knowing Michael, he can imagine just how desperate and touch starved you are. Such a low man with such a goddess of a wife.

As König walks you into his home, you kiss and bite on his neck and chest; the salty taste of his sweaty skin becomes addicting. You breathe in the intoxicating musk you got a sample of yesterday; you’ve been craving it ever since. His hands hold you tightly as he crosses the threshold into the bedroom. He gently tosses you on to the bed, his lips crash against yours while his hands travel underneath the hem of your skirt.

In his hands he bunches up the fabric, slipping his fingers between your legs. You’re already soaked, causing König to let out a pleased hum. “God, I want you.” He whispers as he pulls away and lowering his head between your legs. The sweet smell of your arousal consumes him as he kisses your pussy.

He licks his lips, tasting you before leaning back in and completely burying his face in your cunt. His long, fat tongue finds your tight pussy, pressing himself in and wiggling his tongue as his hands part your thighs. You look down as you pull your fabric back more, watching as he eats you up like a starved man.

König swipes his tongue up, flicking over your clit before taking your small bud into his mouth and sucking. This causes your abdomen to tense, you cry out, begging him to not stop. He can’t stop, your pussy is like a delicacy and he’s just only begun.

“K- König…god…”

He shakes his head back and forth, his fingers digging into your supple thighs even more as your moans become loud pleas for your ever approaching release. Your thighs press against his head, bucking your hips up against his tongue as you cry out for König. If he tries to breathe, all he gets is a strong and overwhelming smell of you; it’s perfect.

König doesn’t stop as your legs slowly relax. He looks up to watch you untie the corset of your dress, exposing your beautiful breasts to him. With one hand he moves up to pinch your perky nipple, tugging on it slightly as his tongue laps between your folds.

“I want your cock.” You beg loudly. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Gladly.” He growls as he pulls back.

König stands, his eyes glued to your breasts as he undoes his belt buckle and pulls down his pants. His heavy cock springs free from the restraints of his pants, the tip leaking; desperate to feel your tiny cunt. Without even slipping out of your dress, he grabs your thighs and pulls you towards the edge of the bed. He looks down, watching as he lines the head of his cock with you.

“Mein Gott.” König moans as he watches your tight pussy swallow his massive cock. “Look at you, taking all of me.”

He pulls back and slowly pushes back in, his slow motion almost a tease for you. All you want is to be destroyed by him; bruises, bites, and all. “Please, fuck me harder.” You beg, your tone of voice almost pathetic.

By the time you stroll back towards the farm, the sun has begun to set. The whole journey back, you sniff your dress and enjoy the lingering scent of him on you. You can’t help but to smile and act giddy as you recall the events of today. Hours in bed with König as he took his time to learn every inch of your body; you’ve never experienced that type of love making before. Even when it was rough, he was still careful with you.

You stable the horse and walk towards your house. Michael sits on the porch drinking a beer as usual, with an unpleasant look on his ugly mug. His eyes travel over your dress. You never wear it, so why today?

“Where the fuck have you been?” Michael shouts as you get closer.

You say nothing, already annoyed that this is the man you’re forced to return home to after experiencing König. Instead, you drop the ax at his feet and walk past him into the house. Offering him no explanation. He looks down at the ax stunned. Did you…no. You wouldn’t, right?

[pandapetals]

Late Night

professor logan howlett x afab!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

Logan's up late grading papers when you come into his office and sit on his lap.

read on Ao3

part one

The hallway was dimly lit, the soft glow from Logan’s classroom spilling into the corridor. You rubbed your tired eyes, feeling the weight of the day pulling at you, but curiosity and a little concern kept you from heading straight to bed. Logan had been absent from your side for a couple of hours now, and you couldn’t sleep without knowing what was keeping him up so late.

As you approached his classroom, you peeked your head inside, leaning slightly against the doorframe. There he was, sitting at his desk, his rugged face softened by the warm light from the lamp beside him. His eyes were fixed on a piece of paper in his hand, a red pen in the other. He was grading, even though the clock on the wall clearly read 2:19 a.m.

“Can’t sleep?” Logan asked, his voice low and gruff, though he didn’t bother looking up from the essay he was marking.

“No, not when my bed is empty,” you teased, stepping into the room, your arms crossed in mock frustration.

Logan smirked at that, finally setting the paper down and giving you a slow, appreciative look. “C’mere,” he said, beckoning you with a tilt of his head. “You can sit in my lap until I’m done grading.”

You raised an eyebrow, hands on your hips. “I thought you said you didn’t need to do grading tonight. Weren’t you bragging about how far ahead you were in your work? The ever-efficient Professor Howlett?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a playful gleam in his eye. “Yeah, well, turns out some of these essays need a little more attention than I thought.” He gestured to the stack of papers on his desk with the red pen. “And don’t think I didn’t hear you complaining about your pile of unread Shakespeare analyses earlier.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not the one staying up until 2 a.m. playing professor when I’ve got a perfectly good bed waiting for me.”

Logan chuckled, his gaze lingering on you as you crossed the room, drawn to him like you always were. “If you’re offering a better alternative to these papers, I’m all ears, darlin’.”

You stopped beside his desk, leaning against the edge as you glanced down at the messy stack of student work. “Honestly, I think your students should be thanking me for saving them from whatever snarky comments you’re about to leave on their essays.”

He smirked, tapping the paper in front of him with his pen. “This one here wrote that Alexander the Great was defeated by Julius Caesar in 1540. I think a little snark is called for.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, they’re not exactly coming to my English class. I can’t fix everything, Logan.”

He grunted in response, his smirk still firmly in place. “And yet, you try. Saving kids from poor grammar and historical inaccuracies one essay at a time.”

“Well, someone has to,” you quipped, leaning down and resting your hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But I still think you’d be more useful in bed.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Is that a fact?”

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting his shoulder. “Yes, it’s a fact. And since you’re the history professor, you should know I don’t take facts lightly.”

He set his pen down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “I think I can get behind that kind of logic,” he murmured, his voice low and warm against your ear.

You settled into his lap, your arms sliding around his neck as you looked down at him with an exaggerated sigh. “You know, I had all these big plans for us tonight. A nice, relaxing evening. But no, you had to go and get all studious.”

Logan chuckled, resting his forehead against yours, his hands gently stroking your sides. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said, his voice a little softer now, a promise hidden in the gruffness. “As soon as I’m done here.”

You gave him a mock pout. “I don’t know if I believe you. You say that now, but then you’ll get all caught up in some ancient war and forget I exist.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a smile as he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours. “If I’m quoting ancient wars in my sleep, you can hit me. But right now?” His hands slid up your back, pulling you a little closer. “I’d rather be paying attention to you.”

Your heart fluttered, the tiredness from earlier forgotten as you melted into his warmth, the papers and grading abandoned for now. “Well,” you whispered, a teasing smile playing on your lips, “as long as I’ve got your attention…”

“You’ve always got my attention,” Logan rumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Even when I’m pretending to be a responsible professor.”

You laughed, tangling your fingers in his hair as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I think I might have to take over your class for you. Can’t have you falling asleep at your desk again.”

Logan huffed in amusement, his hand tracing lazy circles on your back. “Good luck with that. You’ve got enough on your plate without adding my classes to the mix.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and letting the quiet between you settle, comfortable and warm. “Maybe. But I’d still do it if it meant dragging you to bed earlier.”

Logan chuckled, his lips brushing against your hair as he held you close. “You’re lucky I’m already crazy about you, or I might take offense at that.”

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not loving all this attention, Mr. Howlett,” you teased, your voice growing softer as exhaustion finally started to catch up with you. “Admit it—you like being fussed over.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “I’d rather have you in my lap than any of these damn essays. That’s for sure.”

“Well,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, “then it sounds like we’re on the same page.”

Logan’s hand came to rest on your back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns as he leaned back in his chair. “We’ve always been on the same page, darlin’. Now let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep on me.”

With a quiet laugh, you reluctantly lifted your head, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Only if you promise to follow me.”

Logan’s smirk softened into something more tender as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I have a better idea,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in that way that always sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could ask what he meant, Logan stood, pulling you up with him in one smooth motion. You barely had time to register the shift before he swept you off your feet—literally. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you let out a surprised laugh as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Logan!” you squealed, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance. “You know, I can walk perfectly fine on my own.”

Logan’s lips quirked into that familiar smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he glanced down at you. “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. There was something about being in his arms, the strength of him so close and the warmth of his body pressed against yours, that made it impossible to resist him.

“I swear, you’re just trying to show off,” you teased, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you effortlessly down the hallway.

“Maybe I am,” Logan drawled, his voice softening as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “But you’re not complainin’, are you?”

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on the back of his neck. “No. I’m not.”

Logan chuckled, his grip tightening around you just a little as he carried you into your shared bedroom, the door creaking softly as it swung open. He set you down gently on the bed, your back sinking into the soft sheets, but before you could move, he leaned over you, his hands bracing on either side of you, caging you in.

“Logan…” you started, but the teasing lilt in your voice was quickly cut off as he dipped his head, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, warm and featherlight.

“You’ve been stressin’ yourself out too much, darlin’,” he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. “Stayin’ up late, workin’ yourself to the bone...”

You sighed, your body already relaxing under his touch, the tension you’d been carrying for days melting away. “You’ve been doing the same,” you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently to get him to look at you. “We’re both guilty.”

Logan paused, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—soft, but determined. “Yeah, but I’m gonna take care of you tonight,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “No more work, no more thinkin’. Just us.”

You smiled, your heart warming at his words. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a soft smile, his hand sliding to cup your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your lips as his eyes searched yours. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice rougher now, filled with concern. “You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “Especially now.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away—just the two of you, wrapped up in this quiet moment of shared tenderness. He leaned down again, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss that sent warmth flooding through your chest.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke—just the steady rise and fall of your breathing, the quiet connection between you enough to fill the space.

“You know,” you whispered, brushing your fingers along the side of his face, “you’re really good at this whole ‘taking care of me’ thing.”

Logan smirked, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Told you, darlin’. I’d do just about anything for you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, your heart swelling with affection for this man who, despite his gruffness and rough edges, always knew exactly how to make you feel loved.

“Well,” you said, your voice teasing again, “in that case, I’m going to need you to carry me everywhere from now on. Think you can handle that, Mr. Howlett?”

Logan chuckled, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might just make it a habit.”

You laughed softly, tugging him down beside you on the bed, your legs tangling with his as you snuggled closer. Logan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him, his hand stroking up and down your back in soothing, rhythmic motions.

As you lay there, wrapped in his warmth, you felt the last bit of stress slip away, replaced by the quiet comfort of being with him, of knowing that no matter how busy or overwhelming life got, you’d always have this—him, you, and the love that made everything else seem so much smaller.

[itsonlydana]

I saw you opened requests and thought if you were inspired could you do a little sequel to "I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You". I absolutely adore that story it is SO good!

Midnight Meetings in our Kitchen | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader👑

The night before the reopening of his restaurant, Thranduil is feeling antsy - you try your best to coax him back into bed.

warnings/tags: none

word count: 2,7k

an: This has taken me months to write and I apologize for the delay! My mind was just as frazzled as Thranduil's.

requests: please check pinned post

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

You woke up alone and to the faint metallic sound of pots clanking in the kitchen. The hand you blindly reach over to the other side of the bed comes in contact with a cold mattress and rumbled sheets, no residue warmth of the person that held you until you fell asleep nor any sign that he actually slept and not gotten back up immediately as soon as you had closed your eyes to his even breathing.

This is not the first time Thranduil snuck out of bed – in the weeks you now shared one it has become all the clearer how often he actually strayed through the apartment while you were deep in a slumber – but it is the first time he did it after he promised to stay. 

It would be easy to let the anger and frustration fester, let it grow either in a thoughtless fight or in weeks of unspoken feelings, and if this was anyone else you would holster these moments like munition. Keeping them close to your heart like ivy holding on to cracked walls. 

Thranduil however, is not anyone else. 

The blanket is pushed aside, your feet step into the slippers by the bedside and in passing of the desk by the door, you grab a cardigan to throw over your shorts and the top you slept in. The moment you open the bedroom door, the sounds from the kitchen grow louder. You quietly creep around the corner, passing by the room where you hardly ever sleep, and find your boyfriend in a familiar stance – leaning over the stove, a spoon in his hand and one in the mess of long hair bundled up in the nape of his neck, barely holding it together; your boyfriend as well as the spoon.

He doesn’t seem to realize you are there, your shoes did a good job silencing the steps, so it is no wonder Thranduil flinches as you wrap your arms around his stomach from behind and press your face against his back. He catches on quickly, snaps out of the murmuring of ingredients and a “Oh,” escapes him in a sigh. “I’ve woken you up, haven’t I?”

“No,” you mumble into the loose shirt. Thranduil is comfortably warm, not by nature – his hands are a blessing in the summer and he made it a sport to tickle you awake with his icey tips as soon as you spent the nights under mountains of blankets – but by the heated kitchen and the many pots boiling in front of him. Lips against the soft fabric, you continue: “But you said you wouldn’t do this. Not tonight, Thran.”

You feel his spine curve as Thranduil sacks into himself slightly, as he stops holding himself up on the counter and instead hugs your arms closer to his chest. His whole body rumbles at another sigh. “I know,” he is tired, his voice drips sleep more than he realizes, “I know, Darling. I will come to bed soon, let me just finish this recipe.”

You lurk past his right side into what you think is a pot of soup? 

“Do you plan on serving it later?” you ask and let your fingers trail over the bunched-up shirt, over the soft hairs on his lean stomach. 

“I’m not sure. It lacks something and I can’t figure out what exactly. Spices I used plenty, the broth is perfection and the vegetables have been in harmony every other time I thought of them.” – Thranduil is the only person in the world who you know can taste a dish without even cooking it, all that happens in his brain is a mysterium – “I need to find.. whatever it is that’s missing before I could serve it.”

“So, you will cook dozens of portions with a tiny thing changed?”

It is meant to be a joke though Thranduil nods. 

He could be unreadable and stubborn, especially these last few weeks. His restaurant ‘The Green Leaf’, is known as the best spot for fine-dining vegan food, praised high and above by the critics for excellent taste, extravagant and beyond thinking of known dishes taken to another level in ways you couldn’t even begin to fathom. Thranduil is precise, cutting dishes that fail his standards and not adding new ones till he reaches perfection only known to him. 

The turn to autumn brought not only harsher winds but it took one of Thranduil’s suppliers to sell out to ‘Oakenshields’, another star restaurant across the street and a thorn in Thranduil’s eyes ever since the press fueled heavy competition between two restaurants that are no were near the same category. They have close to nothing in common, except for two petty as fuck owners with their heads stuck that far up their arses, that they couldn’t see further than their rage. 

Thranduil, mature as he is, reacted to the news of his supplier changing sides – literally and metaphorically – as any normal person would, and decided on a night similar to this one, that he would change every meal that he had previously cooked with the ingredients of ‘the traitor’. Out with entrés made with apples, gone are the burgers simply because the cucumbers are no longer accessible. You realized quickly that going with the flow meant outings to farmer's markets testing fruits and vegetables, negotiating deals with you hanging on his arm, and new recipes he cooks for you to try. The work and effort of many nights waking up to find him in the kitchen all lead to tomorrow, the first day after the restaurant’s summer-closing and the presentation of a completely new constructed menu. 

To say Thranduil is spun tight is an understatement.

“Thranduil –” you sigh, your hot breath slightly wetting his shirt and your lips move against his spine. “This is nonsense and I don’t say this to be mean. You’ve been up the whole day, going through recipes you’ve been sure about and that you know by heart. Trying this won’t do no good; it will only exhaust you.” The tips of your fingers trail through the hair, higher up to lay a flat palm against the firm skin, feeling his intake of breath. You let your touch be gentle if he misunderstands your words. 

Communication between you had never been the problem – well, except for the obvious misunderstanding of the feelings you both had harbored for each other in complete ignorance that the other packaged them up in love languages such as cooking a meal or throwing out flowers of your dates – and you two had gotten even better at speaking your mind to avoid confrontations that could have been cleared up by a simple discussion at dinner or before going to bed. You never went to bed mad at each other, that is the rule you agreed on. You would talk it out and then make up. You have learned that Thranduil’s cold demeanor came on the second he felt vulnerable and alone which is exactly why you lean into the subject with your hands holding on to him.

“I get that this is important for you,” you continue and your knees nudge the muscles of his calves, “but you need sleep. Your greatest weapon is your brain, so, let it rest. I’m sure this will work out without a new dish.”

For a while, there is the boiling of water, the steam of carrots and celeriac drifting through the air. Thranduil’s hands continue to hold onto you, drawing figures onto your wrists to signal you that he did hear you and is thinking of an answer, not ignoring you. Then, he lets go with one hand. The stove clicks off, and the gas flame disappears, dipping the kitchen into more darkness now that the blue flickering light is gone. 

Other than that movement, Thranduil stands still. 

You opt for another lighthearted joke to break the tension that is obvious in his shoulders, the wings of them have the shirt stretched tighter at his hunch. You take the spoon out of his hands and fish in the soup, yes definitely soup, carefully balancing it around his stiff body and closing your lips around it.

“Mhmm, what excellent boiled potatoes,” you hum.

Thranduil's expression shifts ever so slightly, as if your words have finally pierced through the mental blockade, where he’s no doubt been sifting through countless possible events. An amused snort escapes him, his spine curving closer against you as he chuckles softly. “Did you have another Pride and Prejudice marathon this week?”

“What?” Your voice jumps an octave, betraying you instantly. “No! Of course not! Me? Nev–er. I don't even know that movie.” The words tumble out in a frantic cascade, and in the middle of your denial, Thranduil abruptly turns to face you, his sudden movement drawing a helpless grin from your lips.

One eyebrow arches in quiet amusement as he begins to crowd you against the kitchen island and leaves you to stare up at him. “If you didn’t watch it – and I certainly didn’t – how do you explain the ‘continue watching’ notification I saw at the restaurant?”

“Wow, uhm,” you fumble for an excuse, fingers toying with the strings of his silken pajama pants. “Maybe your brother decided to give my recommendations a shot?”

Thranduil lets out a scoff, his disbelief evident. “Las? When has he ever taken our advice on anything?”

True, his brother is going down the full teenager-who-listens-to-no-one-route like he’s doing a marathon but you are just as determined. Coyly you flutter your lashes up at Thranduil, pulling at the strings and twirling them around a finger. “Maybe that’s a sign of the universe, then. That you should stop banging pots and start bang– showing attention to your girlfriend.” 

Thranduil laughs so low in his throat, that you feel it swooshing straight into your stomach, the vibrato of his voice and the rasp of the few hours of sleep undoing every thought of getting him back to bed because this, Thranduil in just a loose shirt standing in the silver light of the moon in the middle of the kitchen and staring down at you might be the most attractive thing you have ever witnessed. 

His hands wander from your waist up to your shoulders, sliding up further to cup your neck in his large palms and gently tilt your chin up further. Your breath comes to a full stop, instead, your heart takes on the job of pulsing twice as fast at the gentle touch of his thumb moving over the underline of your jaw. The day you realized he cradles you just as gently as his favorite knives was surely one to process but now you lean into the lingering taps of his fingertips, the pad of his thumb pressing slightly into the plushness of your lower lip. 

Thranduil slots one leg between yours, casually and with an ease that you wouldn’t believed him to be able to when you first met him. “Have I recently told you how thankful I am that you’re you?” he asks and you shake your head slightly. His lips curve downward, as do his eyebrows. “I may have gotten lost in my work again, haven’t I?” 

You nod, never one to pour a lie into this intimacy. “But that’s fine. I know this is important to you. The restaurant opening and all can’t be easy.”

“That’s no reason to push away the one person that makes this journey bearable. You shouldn’t have to put up with my nightly disappearance out of bed simply because the restaurant is a large focus on my mind right now.” 

“It has become quite the habit of yours,” you agree quietly and slip one hand under his shirt again. 

There’s nothing sexual about the way you hold onto his waist, tracing the bones and muscles, all breathing softly and singing under your touch. Being this close to him grounds you the same way he needs physical touch as a reminder that he is still important in arguments and fights. That no matter how far apart your opinions are at that moment, your bond is still there. 

“I am truly sorry for this habit. I will work on it and I think once we have gotten through the worst of the press and critics I can rest easier but it’s nothing I can one hundred percent promise. The last time we closed for a month I slept barely after reopening.”

You tilt your head. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No, everything you do makes me a better person already,” Thranduil says and leans down to finally catch your lips in a soft kiss into which you melt like butter on a hot pan. Every nerve ending is sizzling and burning, sighing as he holds your face close and kisses the breath out of you. “Or would you do me the favor and never watch your movie again?”

You laugh and bite down on his lip, “Never. Try something more realistic.”

He agrees with a huff of laughter, “Of course not,”  and pulls you back into another kiss. 

“Can we go back to bed?” you mumble against his lips. As much as you enjoy the loving kisses, the slow and languid draw of his tongue, the playful nip of his teeth in the lull of the night, his full body cornering you against the counter – oh, there’s this low sound of his throat again – but unlike Thranduil, you had a few hours of sleep already and you can feel the urge to hop back under the covers in the cold around your bare ankles.  

Thranduil’s head swirls around, seemingly taking in the state of the kitchen without the haze of a restless man dreaming of the perfect dish clouding his judgment and he raises a hand to tap against his lips, loudly exhaling. “Shit. I can’t leave this lying around and while it’s no good for the restaurant, I can’t just throw it out.”

You shrug your shoulders, sneaking past him to open the drawer meticulously sorted with plastic boxes. There are certainly enough of them to store the soups and their different varieties. Once Thranduil starts working on a new recipe, his tendency to fill the kitchen and run tests leaves its traces in the way you now look out for good lunchbox offers and Tupperware parties, always being mindful of having enough of them to stack up the freezer. Thranduil may be opposed to frozen food – and not only storebought, he would not eat something he didn’t cook fresh even if the whole idea of freezing food he cooked meant that it was still good and full of vitamins – but you don’t mind popping them into the microwave on a long day at work and relishing the soul food of your boyfriend weeks after he abandoned the thought of that particular version.

“We could pack them up and bring them around to the shelter tomorrow. Ah, wait, no. You have to be at the restaurant early for the deliveries. I can drop them off then, get home to change and still be there on time for the opening, oh! Thran–,” you are interrupted by the warm weight of Thranduil hugging you close from behind, surprising you the same way you had earlier, only that the height difference allows him to mouth a kiss into your neck. 

“I love you,” Thranduil says, digging his fingers into the wool of your cardigan. “All I’m doing is keeping you up at night and you’re still here, thinking about bringing the food to the shelter and my schedule. You’re brilliant, my love.”

The compliment goes through your heart like molten honey, sticking in all the slowly healing cracks that Thranduil mends each day he is there for you. The change from being roommates to best friends brings the risk of disrupting the carefully built balance yet Thranduil and you made it work and in times like this, standing in the darkness of your shared kitchen in the night before the re-opening of what Thranduil loves third-most in the world, every effort is worth the risk.

You smile, resting your head against his chest and looking up at him. His grey eyes are already on you, framed by long lashes and the strands of hair shining silver. “Love you too, most ardently,” you stand up on your tiptoes for a quick kiss upside down. “Soups can wait, let’s go to bed.”

[bpmiranda]

I can’t get the idea of Logan having ruts and going feral because of his mutation out of my head lol. Could you write a quick story about the reader having to experience that for the first time please? Thank you!

Let Me Help (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: 18+ f!reader, nonmutant!reader, feral!logan, mentions of breeding, oral f! receiving, rough sex

For about two days now, Logan had been avoiding you. You weren’t quite sure what it was that you could’ve done to upset him that much, but you felt insecure in yourself as the most attention he seemed to want to give you was a quick peck on the cheek before you both parted ways in the morning.

What Logan had not told you in the time you had started seeing each other was that due to his mutation, he often experienced the same behavioral changes as an animal. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to put you through this, however, not his sweet girl. But Logan didn’t count on you being so tenacious.

“Lo,” You murmur quietly from the hallways as you peer at him sitting in the living room where he’s smoking a cigar and drinking a beer when he should be in bed with you by now. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a kind smile. “Don’t you want to come to bed?” You ask, stepping out into the living room in the shortest pajama shorts you could find and a little matching camisole.

Logan inhaled sharply, the sight of you making him ache. His heart is beating fast and he feels the animal inside him urging to get out, to attack. “No,” He says curtly, turning away from you and closing his eyes, willing himself to hold his ground. Your bare feet pad slowly over to him and he wants to bolt for the door, but he also wants to slam you down on the couch and take you right there. “Sweetheart,” His tone is warning as you carefully move to sit down on his lap and straddle him.

“You haven’t touched me in two days,” You say sadly and his heart breaks. It wasn’t his intention to make you feel like he didn’t desire you, but he couldn’t trust himself to control himself with you while he was in this state. “Did I do something wrong?” You pout.

A small sigh escapes him and he set the cigar in the ashtray and his beer on the coffee table. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweet girl.” He said as he let himself rub on your thighs. His eyes fall over your chest, your nipples are softly showing through your thin tank top, he can smell your natural scent, it’s making him uneasy. “I just - mm - I’m working through something right now.”

“Can I help?” You ask brightly, hoping you’ve figured out how you can fix things between you and your man. Logan smiles and shakes his head while thinking, you’re the only one that could.

“I can’t ask you to help me with this, sweetheart.” He says, grunting softly as you move in his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Logan?” You murmur, your hands running through his hair as he rubs on your ass. “Do you still find me attractive?” Your eyes are welling with tears and Logan knows he’s fucked up when he hears you sniff.

With a sigh, he pulls you back so that he can hold your teary face in his hands and he gives you a sympathetic look. “Of course I do, Y/N, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen walk this Earth. I can’t get enough of you, sweet girl.” He says as he kisses your nose and you give him a weak smile. “I’m in a rut, baby.” He finally says and you give him a confused look, thinking you know what he means, but he shakes his head. “And not in a dull routine type of rut. It’s, well, more animal than that.”

“Oh,” You murmur, knowing now exactly what he’s talking about. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip and you place your hands over his and slowly guide them down to your breasts. Logan’s breath hitches in his throat and he goes to move away only for you to hold him there. “Let me help you.”

Logan shakes his head sternly. “No.”

“You won’t hurt me.” You insist, slowly rolling your hips into him and he growls lowly, his hands gripping your breasts making you hum in pleasure. “Please, Logan, I miss you so much.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t control that side of me. I’ll hurt you and not even know it.” He argues, making you pout, and he sighs. “Be good for me, okay? Just stay out of my way for the next three or so days, no more of these little outfits either. I’ll be just fine. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Y/N nodded sadly, still not moving off his lap, but letting him take his hands off your chest. “Can I at least have a kiss?” You ask innocently enough for Logan to smile and nod. Your hands latch onto his neck as you lean in and kiss him softly, slowly while he caresses your back and thighs. The taste of the cigar he was smoking and the beer he was drinking makes your mind fuzzy and you only want more, you want to savor every bit of him. Logan can’t pull away, and you don’t make a move to separate yourself either. Your hips begin to move again and he groans your name in a warning tone. “Please,” You breathe desperately against his lips and his hold is so tight on your thighs you can feel the bruises forming already. “Yes, please.”

“Damn it,” He growls as he takes control of the kiss and lays you down on the couch, climbing over you quickly as he devours your neck, marking you immediately and making you whimper underneath his heavy frame. “I can’t stop once I start, Y/N. Are you sure?” He asks as he’s already tugging your shorts off roughly, the smell of your arousal making his thoughts center around one thing only, and you nod quickly, gasping as he pushes your thighs to your chest to dive face first into your cunt.

You’re holding tightly onto the back of the couch, one hand gripping on his hair as he’s groaning and lapping into your pussy. The sound is so filthy, so desperate, as if he had starved in those two days, and you knew how big his appetite usually was on a normal day. “Oh, my God, Logan!” You moan, your head rolling back as you feel your walls clench around his tongue as it’s burrowing into you, not slowing even as your release with a light squirt.

“You always taste so damn good, baby,” Logan groans, lapping at your hungrily, petting your clit with his thumb while he’s got your knees in one hand to keep your legs elevated and together. “Like a plum, so fucking delicious.” His words make you tremble with pleasure and he’s still playing with your cunt, making your vision blurry as the stimulus of pleasure does not cease. A small whine falls out of your lips and he makes you swallow it as he kisses you hungrily, his tongue pushing past your lips and bringing your own tongue into to his mouth. “C’mon, baby, wanna feel that little pussy wrapped around me.”

Logan carries you to the bedroom where you spend the next four hours trapped underneath him.

“L-Logan!” You scream as he’s plummeting roughly into you from behind. His hand is holding your head down into the pillows while the other one is spanking your ass between thrusts, groaning as he watches your ass jiggle from the force.

It’s your third orgasm, and it’s coming up fast, much faster than the first two. Your insides feel gummy and numb as his thick cock drives into your mercilessly, searching for the furthest depth at which he can fill you. “Fuck, you’ve got the prettiest ass.” He groans, suddenly stopping while he’s pressed right up to your cervix and he’s squeezing your ass making you cry. “It’s okay, baby.” He murmurs, pulling out to kiss your ass, bite it, spank it lightly and you can feel his cum that had been plugged inside you by his cock now running down your thighs. “That’s a damn sight right there.” He sighs and you feel a little embarrassed, mainly aroused at the way he’s contemplating your disheveled appearance. “Wouldn’t you love to be fucked full of my babies?” He asks sweetly as he fingers his cum back into your aching pussy.

“Logan, more, please.” You beg weakly, your voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Logan chuckles and he realigns his tip to your pulsing core which is already sucking him back in and he hisses at the feeling, the sight of you desperate for him.

“The things you do to me, sweetheart.” He growls as he continues his brutal pace from before and you close your eyes, hot tears slipping out of the corners as you feel him use you.

By now, your legs feel like jelly, they’re trembling something awful on his shoulders while he’s rubbing them tenderly, pounding into you roughly while cooing at you. Your eyes burn from the fresh hot tears flooding them and running down your cheeks, your cunt is overused and red from his incessant pace. “You’re such a helpful little thing, sweet girl,” Logan murmurs, leaning forward as he holds your knees against your chest to kiss you. You cry against his lips, your whole body shaking underneath this heavy weight as he’s rutting deeply and purposefully into you. “Look at you taking me so well, does it hurt?” He asks and you bravely shake your head, wanting him to use you. Logan groans, knows your lying, and he picks up the pace anyway, bearing his weight on your thighs as he lifts himself up slightly to jackhammer into your oversensitive pussy.

“Ah!” You sob, your mouth falling open as you take it, clutching tightly onto his thighs as he growls while spilling his seed inside you for the third time. “Ah,” You whimper as he pulls out of you. “More, please.”

Now you’re sitting in his lap, straddling him, and he’s telling you to take it slow while he’s fucking into you from below, unable to relinquish control. His hands are firmly holding you by the arms and he’s fucking you down into his cock, more tears spill from your eyes. Logan’s unbelievably aroused watching you cry and pout, your tits bouncing obscenely as he’s bouncing you like a doll. His little doll. “I love you so damn much, sweet girl.” He says, pinning you down on his lap so he can kiss you, tasting your salty tears and smiling as you kiss him back weakly, a meek cry coming from your throat. “You love me, baby?” You nod, leaning back in to kiss him again and you make out gently as you continue bouncing on him. “Goddamnit!” He growls, letting go of your arms so he can wrap his arms around your waist as he holds you against him and fucks his last load deep into you. Your head falls weakly on his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy contracting around his throbbing cock as he spurts his cum on your walls.

A soft sob leaves your lips as he finally stills inside you and every ache and bruise consumes your body, but you love it. “You feel better?” You ask in such a soft whisper that tugs on his heartstrings.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I feel better.” He murmurs against your shoulder, kissing your neck softly as he can feel you growing heavy in his arms.

“I helped?”

Logan chuckles, scratching your scalp lightly as he kisses your cheek. “Yes, sweet girl, you helped.”

🤧😓🫠

[mahgyu]

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

⠀

[toyogamii]

pt.1 pt.2

“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.

he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.

“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.

“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).

“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”

“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.

you nod.

“wanna get outta here?”

he flashes you a charming grin.

“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”

mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.

you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.

“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.

when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.

“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.

sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.

“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.

“where are we exactly?”

“come on.”

he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.

you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.

“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.

“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.

“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”

you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.

“i’m sure he loved it.”

sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.

“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”

you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.

“you’ll remember it.”

“… yeah.”

there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.

before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.

he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.

yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

pt. 4

[i-like-writing-stuff]

never changing [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: hi y’all! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been on here, but after the absolute shit show that season 4 was, some sparks ignited in me to write up anything to take my mind off it 🙌

its not anything crazy, just fluff and banter since i haven’t written anything in years so it may be as poorly redacted as this season lmao

summary: five and y/n attend their niece birthday party together, yet separate

“Happy birthday, little Gracie!” You smiled widely, trying not to drop the wrapped present box as the six year old girl jumped into your arms, “Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re just getting prettier by day, aren’t you?”

You had just got off work in a hurry to make your appearance at the little girl’s birthday party at a decent time, in spite of the amount of paperwork you managed to bury yourself in lately. You knew how much it would have meant for the celebrated one to show up and you couldn’t bear to let her down, especially on her birthday.

After spending most of your life working for the Commission, and then a decent amount of time exhausting yourself in trying to stop multiple Apocalypses, your last six years have been pretty quiet as a lawyer. You really wanted to get out of the whole assassin thing, but at the same time couldn’t exactly move on from the thrill of the work field. Your career as a lawyer took off really well these past years, but inevitably it came along with the cost of always being stuck at work, so whenever your niece got the chance to see you, she was truly enthusiastic.

“Auntie Y/N!” She wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, engulfing you into a tight hug, “You are here!”

Nonetheless, these six years have been truly and undeniably the most peaceful time of your life for as long as you could remember.

“You literally saw each other the other day,” Five raised a brow, watching you and the celebrated one act as if you hadn’t seen each other in years.

You and the little girl shared a look, before rolling your eyes and turning to glare at the man next to you. Ever since Grace learned how to talk, you and her would gang up on her uncle for your amusement, especially since he was so keen on entertaining the banter.

These past six year have gone by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time at a slow and steady pace. You spent most of your time working anyway, but still kept in touch with the seven siblings you’d grown to love.

Some in different ways than others.

“Uncle Five, you’re always more excited than me to see Aunt Y/N,” Gracie waved him off, making you burst out laughing, “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you anyway.”

“What is a good look on him anyway?” You smirked, making the little girl laugh, as Five swept her into his arms;

“Okay, munchkin, it’s your birthday today, but tomorrow I’m going back to bullying you,” He joked, causing you both to laugh, before the two shared a hug before you, “You’re lucky your gift has no return policy.”

The party had already started by the time you made it there. The playground was huddled by other kids around Grace’s age, along with their parents. The music was playing loudly over the laughter of children and you were pretty sure that most of the family had already arrived. It was not the most ideal gathering, but you tried your best to keep in touch with most of the family to your best capabilities.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!” Luther smiled, appearing from the crowd of guests, immediately giving you a big hug as his niece was still wrapped around Five, “Haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving!”

“Big shot lawyer doesn’t always have the time to stay in touch with family, huh?” Diego teased you, following suit, as you rolled your eyes, dropping off his daughter’s gift in his hands.

“Big shot delivery driver doesn’t know the phone works both ways, huh?” You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.

Diego laughed out loud as he gave you a hug, always in the mood for a back and forth short banter with you. After all, you truly were family, even if you didn’t always have the time to be present in the Hargreeves’ day to day lives. You may have met them in the original timeline in 2019, when you accidentally time traveled with your former partner at the Commission, Five, but after all you’ve been through, you didn’t need to have grown up together or be blood related to be considered that. And you truly were grateful for each and every single one of them, in spite of the many differences over the years.

After everything that’s happened six years ago at Hotel Oblivion, everyone went their separate ways. Allison was back with her daughter while trying to further her acting career and also help Klaus stay on the sober line, Viktor had moved to Canada where he opened a bar, Diego and Lila had three kids, Luther was “professionally dancing”, Ben had some run-ins with the law and Five, ironically enough, was working for the CIA.

“Well, you two are as annoying as always,” Ben told you and his brother, making Diego roll his eyes as he walked towards the gift table to set down your present.

“Please try to stay out of prison at least for the remainder of the year,” You joked with the man, making him roll his eyes as he hugged you loosely, “There’s only so much favors I could owe the DA.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben groaned, “I don’t even know why they let you work at the law firm since you still look like a prepubescent with no boobs. Even Five got a growth spurt.”

“I sized up to B recently, thank you very much,” You nudged his shoulder, before placing your hands on your chest in an offended manner.

“Okay, Gracie, not a conversation you’d wanna hear,” Five spoke up, putting his niece down, “Your aunt needs to learn some etiquette on how to act around children.”

“Funny coming from you,” You couldn’t help but wave him off.

You didn’t come in with Five at the party, but as fate had it, you did run into him as you were parking your car. He had just gone out to his brother’s dusty van to bring inside some more cookies for the guests. You kept in touch with him as well, but not as often as you would have liked. It’s not all that serious, but given the fact that you were a lawyer still climbing your way to the top and him being a top notch CIA agent, you didn’t exactly have the time to hang out.

At least, not as much as you’d have liked.

Five was watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hands in his pockets. He had the same look on his face as always when watching you. He had the same smile when he saw you in combat for the first time during your first mission for the Commission together, the same look in his eyes when you appeared for the first time in 2019 alongside him in your teen bodies. The same posture he had when he met you again in 1963 after months of not seeing each other.

He wore the same love on his face while looking at you when you and the siblings split up after the events at Oblivion.

And never once did you notice that.

Not once in these past six years you let your feelings surface.

“You know Grace is my niece too, right?” He couldn’t drop the small smile even if he wanted to.

“Since when are you such a family man?” You raised a brow, trying to keep a confident composure.

“Oh, something changed in me between the first and third time I traded the world for my siblings,” He lightly shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes at the sarcastic remark.

You two never changed.

“Please, I was there for the twins birth,” You waved him off.

You rarely see Five, and even when you do you always try to act normal, as you do around the rest of the Hargreeves. Everyone tried to get you two together at first, since the apocalypse was over and there was no reason for you to not get together, right?

You really wished it was that easy. In hindsight, maybe it was. But you couldn’t take any chances in losing Five forever if something were to go wrong. Maybe some would see it as something stupid, or as if you wasted so many years, but to you- mentally, you were almost seventy, while physically nineteen. You had so much time ahead of you now, all that mattered was to get a stable career first.

Five let a chuckle escape, shaking his head in disbelief, as he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. When he looked back at you, you tried to keep your composure. You couldn’t help but feel pathetic that after all these years, your heart still skipped a beat whenever he’d look at you.

“You’re doing that thing again where you forget that some other people are still around, guys,” Luther raised his hand, grabbing your attention once again.

“I got bored of watching seventy year old virgins,” Ben shrugged his shoulders, “I’m gonna go get shitfaced.”

“Always a delight seeing you, Benjamin,” Five said, as Luther followed the ex-tentacle boy suit to make re he was not about to actually get drunk;

“This is a six year old’s birthday party!”

You giggled, watching the two brothers speed away while arguing amongst the kids in the crowd. When your eyes laid back on Five, who was intently watching you, you couldn’t help but feel a small blush creep its way in your cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, Hargreeves.”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“Fuck you.”

“Why?”

You watched him dumbfounded for a couple of seconds because of the only answer he could come up with, before walking away, hoping he would follow you.

When he did try to keep up with you, you looked away to hide the proud smile. Even after all these years, things were still the same with him. He was still so eager to spend time with you, he was still smiling at you and entertaining your conversation.

“Aunt Y/N, Uncle Five, come play in the ball pit!” Gracie ushered you from afar, already tucked in the plastic colorful balls.

“You heard the birthday girl!” You smiled, grabbing his hand to drag Five after you.

Even after all these years he would instantly lock his fingers with yours.

[sinfulspencer]

Once upon a dream

Prompt: It’s difficult to face a coworker you just had a wet dream about…

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic, SoftDom!Spencer, breath play, mating press, fingerfucking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie

Words: 3.3k

A.N.: Enjoy, my sweet filthy friends. And a big thank you to @ameliemaaaee for beta-reading this. 

MY MASTERLIST. MY GUIDELINES. SEND A REQUEST. MY TAGLIST.

“I’m so happy that we’re together again.”

Spencer’s arms caged me against his body as his lips captured mine in a breathtaking kiss, full of longing and desire. The familiar sensation of being home settled in my belly and I basked in it, giggling against Spencer’s mouth. I had missed him so much - I hated when I had to stay behind for a case, but it was for my own well-being.

“We don’t need to talk about the case.”

Spencer agreed with a quick nod. “I’m here for something else.”

His hands quickly found the edge of my long shirt and removed it, leaving me bare in front of him. Spencer quickly kissed me again and I wrapped my arms around his neck, leading him to my bedroom.

I couldn’t care less about talking that night.

As we walked to my bedroom, my feet were colder than usual against the hard flood - definitely an unusual sign, but I didn’t pay too much attention to it. All I could focus on were the skilled hands of the man pressed against me that slid my panties down my thighs, undressing me completely. 

His hungry eyes roamed all over my body and I gasped when Spencer pushed me onto the bed. His attitude was completely different from the one he usually had in the office, but again, we were not at work at that moment.

“A sight to die for.” 

I scoffed, propping myself up on the pillows. “Oh, shut up.”

Spencer crawled on top of me, still completely dressed, and nipped at my bottom lip while both his hands dipped on each side of my head. He smelled like vanilla, a different scent than usual - weird, but again, I couldn’t care less about it.

“We have all night.”

“To sleep?” I asked.

Spencer hummed, running his right hand across my bare chest. “Also that.”

“We have work in the morning.” - I responded - “We have to rest.”

“Yeah, whatever. Later.”

Again, it was a weird thing to say for Spencer. I didn’t think too much of it, enjoying the way his lips devoured mine in a kiss. All I could think about was the way his toned body, still completely dressed, was towering on top of mine. He kissed me hard, reminding myself that he could easily control me. 

The desire I felt for him was overwhelming: it made my hands itch, my thighs tremble, my mind going completely empty. There was nothing else in the world I needed more than Spencer at that moment. I needed to feel his weight on my body, his lips on my neck, his hands on my thighs, his cock inside of me and his semen drip between my thighs at the very end. 

I just needed him to consume me, to make me nothing but his whore.

Spencer pulled away from me and he ran his fingers through his hair, staring down at me. I was pretty sure that I looked wild: my hair was already a mess, my cheeks were burning hot and I was naked. Spencer instead looked beautiful: his hair a mess like mine, his jaw tensed, his eyes with lust flashing behind them.

“Look at you… so pretty.”

I whined, grabbing Spencer’s hand and bringing it to my chest. “Thank you, but I don’t need compliments right now.”

“And what else do you need? Do tell.” - he responded, the gleam in his eyes making me whine - “Oh, don’t be embarrassed. You can tell me anything.”

Shaking my head, I pushed his hand down to reach my breast. Spencer palmed it lightly, still staring at me and waiting for an answer. Despite the obvious aching between my thighs and my desire for him, I was not exactly able to explain to him all the things I had wished he’d do to me. My mind was blank because of him. 

“Your cock.”

It was the only thing that I could come up with and the answer seemed to have pleased Spencer as he laid on top of me again. He had removed his shirt and his belt, leaving everything on the floor, but I was still bothered by his trousers. I needed to see every inch of his body. 

Spencer nipped at my bottom lip, then moved down. His tongue caressed the skin of my throat, travelling down to reach the curve between my breasts.

“Ah, straight to the point.” - Spencer whispered - “I’ll give it to you, my sweet girl.”

Sweet girl. He never called me like that, but I enjoyed the way it rolled off his tongue. 

His tongue moved across my breasts as Spencer’s eyes focused on my face the whole time. I had never felt this good before, pulling on his curls and moaning his name when his tongue flitted over my right nipple. Spencer was gone the moment he saw my boobs.

His left hand groped my other breast, leaving red marks all across my skin. I arched my back in response to his ministrations, whining with my eyes closed. Spencer was so good to me, but the strong vanilla scent was overwhelming. He wasn’t a fan of vanilla, so why did he smell like that?

I forced myself not to think about it, but it was hard.

Spencer closed his mouth around my right nipple and my thoughts disappeared from my head, leaving me crying out a chorus of ‘yes’. He silenced me with a bruising kiss, rolling his hips to grind against mine.

“Shh, no need to be so loud. Wouldn’t want to wake up all the neighbours.”

I moaned on his lips, nodding my head in agreement. In truth, I couldn’t care less about my neighbours at that moment: I just needed Spencer to own me, to make me feel good with any part of his body - whichever he preferred. 

Spencer’s body was flushed to mine and I felt his hard cock against my inner thigh. I gasped and clung to his shoulders, following the rhythm of his hips to feel more and more of him. With his right hand, he yanked my panties down my thighs and threw them somewhere behind him.

“Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.”

I obeyed with no hesitation, opening my legs right in front of him. His eyes followed me down where I needed him to be and he immediately cupped my cunt with the palm of his hand, his middle finger brushing through my folds. 

“So wet I could just slip my cock inside of you.”

I bit my bottom lip, focusing my eyes on his face the whole time. The lustful desire burning behind his eyes made my knees tremble. I swore I saw the shadow of a smirk appear on his lips: one of those dark, wicked smirks that turned me on more than anything in the world.

Spencer lowered his head to your chest and nipped at the soft skin right below my nipple, making me shiver. How could he be so addicting? How could he just bring me to the edge of pleasure with a simple bite?

“Or do you want my fingers first, sweet girl?” Spencer asked

I sighed, glancing at his right hand travelling from my throat down to my hip. His fingers are caressing me gently, sending shivers down my spine, and I looked up at him. I wanted whatever he was willing to give me - I truly did not care at all. I just wanted him to find his pleasure within me.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I responded

Spencer’s lips curled into a smile. “First thought, best thought.”

He slowly trailed his index finger across my wet folds before pushing it inside of me, slipping it to the knuckle. A quiet gasp fell from my lips and I found myself closing my eyes, relaxing. Spencer used his hand to cup my cunt and pressed his palm against it, massaging my clit with his movements. 

God, he was so fucking skilled and I had no idea. Was he truly like that or was it just another wet dream I was having?

The answer did not matter. The pleasure did.

“Look at me.” - Spencer warned me - “Keep your eyes open, sweet girl.”

I struggled to obey him, but I did. I opened my eyes and stared at him with my mouth wide open, giving in to the pleasure he brought me. Spencer slipped another finger inside of me and I moaned again, bracing myself to his taut body with both my hands. 

My fingers dug into his forearm and Spencer whimpered in pain. I didn’t mean to scratch him, I didn't mean to hurt him but in that moment I was so caught up in my own pleasure, in my own desire for the man above me that I could not care any less. Spencer was able to make me forget my neighbours, my inexperience and everything that made me insecure.

And when I tried to speak, the pleasure crashed through me. I felt like all the air had been sucked out of my body and the only sound I could hear was the echo of my own pathetic cries as I reached my peak. Spencer allowed me to ride the waves of my orgasm with his mouth peppering kisses all over me and his fingers pumping rapidly, and yet… All I could think about was the smug smirk on his lips.

God, did it feel good to make him happy.

“That’s it. You did so well, my sweet girl. So proud of you.”

Spencer slowly removed his fingers from my cunt and brought them up to his mouth, tasting me. His eyes were still on my face, but mine were down to his body - where his cock was standing, hard and aching. 

The sight was so erotic it brought me to pull him closer to my body by closing my thighs around his waist. I couldn’t wait any longer. I cradled his face in the palm of my hands and I kissed him hard: I tasted myself on his lips and the fire burned even brighter inside of me. Spencer did not hesitate to grab his cock and push it right inside of me, surprising me. I thought that he’d wait a moment, that he’d enjoy my mouth on his but apparently he was just as desperate as I was. 

The delicious stretch of my body to adjust to his made me whine against his lips, but I never stopped kissing him. Everything that I felt seemed heightened, as if it wasn’t even real - I could not believe it was real.

“Oh, fuck. I did not know you felt this good around my cock.” Spencer whispered

I felt the pool of heat spread between my thighs as I clung to his body, whining and panting his name over and over like a sacrilegious prayer. Everything felt too good all at once and I did not have the time to register that pleasure because Spencer pulled out of me. The loss made me gasp.

“Fuck! No, no. Please.”

I could feel his eyes burning into my skin. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

Spencer somehow got even closer to me: his knees pressed to my thighs as his cock pushed inside of me again, finally filling me up to the brim. The pleasure quickly returned to pinch at my belly and I felt overwhelmed.

The way Spencer looked, the desperate sounds he made, the beads of sweat across his forehead, the strength of his arms, the violent grip his fingers had on my thighs… There wasn’t a single detail of Spencer’s skills and beauty that did not go overlooked. God, he was fucking ethereal and all mine for the night.

Spencer leaned forward, his lips brushing over my right earlobe. “You take me so well. I might keep you around forever.”

His hands caressed my shins and then Spencer forced my legs upon his shoulders. Surprise was written all over my face, but so were pleasure and a delicious hint of pain that made everything even better. I was caged between his body and the soft mattress underneath me: a position that I did not want to escape from.

Spencer was so deep inside of me that I felt him everywhere. I couldn’t even describe the intensity of the pleasure that spread through every inch of my body: it was intoxicating and I never wanted the moment to end. 

He could keep me like that for as long as he pleased.

His eyes never leave my face. Spencer wanted to see me break down because of him, because of the pleasure that only he could bring to me. And I let him, allowing his fingers to dig into my skin to the point I felt it break. 

I rested my hands behind his neck, gripping his curls as I let him take all of the pleasure that he could from my body. Thrust after thrust, I felt the tension slowly come to the tipping point.

“Spencer, please. Please, please.”

All we could hear in my bedroom was the pathetic chant of his name falling from my lips and the snapping thrusts that he gave to me. My fingers scratched his neck and I knew that it must’ve hurt him, but I was glad he didn’t say anything. Maybe he was too focused on fucking me to care about the drops of blood running down of his back.

“Are you going to come for me, sweet girl? Clench your cunt around my cock?”

His dirty words weren’t helping me. The pleasure was almost too much for me to bear and so was the tension that finally exploded. My orgasm rolled in waves through my body, making me arch my back as I whispered his name. 

Over and over, again, Spencer kissed me as he nursed the second orgasm out of my body with that smug smirk over his lips. He was well aware of the power that he had over me and somehow, he took advantage of it. And, God, did it feel so fucking good to be in his skilled hands.

The pleasure never seemed to end. 

I was still there in that delicious limbo that made my thighs tremble, but Spencer’s thrusts became sloppy and I could feel him get close to the edge as well. He was whimpering, whispering my name against my lips and his hands were trembling.

“Can’t.. I need.. Inside of you.”

I mindlessly nodded my head. “Yes. Inside. Please.”

Spencer came inside of me hard, his fingers gripping my thighs so hard that the pain cut through the intense pleasure I was experiencing. His body pressed down against mine, forcing me to take every drop of his essence inside of me like the good girl I was for him.

My thighs were still closed around his waist, hoping that he could not pull away and he did not. He didn’t want to, he wanted to give me everything that he could. And he did.

Spencer kissed me again, but it was a messy and sloppy kiss. My body was so exhausted and aching, but somehow my brain was begging for more. I knew it was the beginning of the end, that Spencer was going to leave soon but I didn’t want him to. 

I needed more. 

Spencer pulled out of my aching body and watched the mess pool down between my thighs, staining the bedsheets underneath me. His lips were still curved into that stupid, smug smirk and I found myself falling for it even harder. How could he be so fucking gorgeous even after fucking me so hard to the point I forgot my own name?

“So pretty. You did so well for me, sweet girl.”

His praise suddenly soothed the aches in my thighs. “For you, always.”

Spencer reached out his hand between my thighs and his index collected some of the liquid spilling out from me, a mix of our orgasms. He did not waste any time and he cleaned up his digit.

“Sweet.”

I shook my head, covering my face with both hands. “God, Spencer…”

“Stop acting as if you don’t like this dirty side of me.” - he teased me, leaving a tentative kiss on my ankle - “I know you love it.”

I didn’t respond to him.

“Now sleep, sweet girl. I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

The silence took over the room as Spencer cleaned me up with his fingers and a warm washcloth, a quick reminder that he was still a gentleman. He might’ve fucked me like a whore in the middle of the night, but he was going to treat me like a princess in the morning. 

Or so I thought. 

I must’ve fallen asleep in the blink of an eye because when I woke up, the curtains inside my bedroom were slightly opened and a single ray of sun filtered through. It was morning, very early morning. 

However, everything happened so quickly.

I found myself nestled beneath my warm blanket, completely dressed, and the low sound of music coming from my phone. Confused, I pushed down my own blanket and looked around the room.

Spencer was not there like he promised me he’d be.

What the fuck?

Even more confused than before, I sat up on my bed and looked down. I was still wearing my pyjamas and my underwear; none of the items were broken or ruined by Spencer’s eager fingers to have me. There were no bruises on my thighs, nothing on my neck or my chest either.

What the fuck has happened?

My head hurt as I got up from my bed, trying to understand what had happened the night before. I couldn’t recall Spencer ringing the bell of my apartment, but I remembered vividly the way he pressed me down onto the bed and fucked into me like a mad man.

It couldn’t have just been a dream. Could it?

Sighing, I took my time in the shower. The memories in my mind were simply a dream; a manifestation of the desire I felt for Spencer and that I was yet to confront. But how could I prove that? I couldn’t just call Spencer and ask him about the previous night. I didn’t want him to think I was weird.

And then, my heart dropped. How in the world was I going to face him at work?

However, I needed to. It wasn’t professional to call my boss and ask them to give me a day off just because I had a wet dream about a colleague. So, I put on my best smile and got ready for the day.

As I went up in the elevator, I kept checking my neck for bruises or bite marks. Spencer bit me and grabbed my flesh hard, violently, possessively. It was impossible that my skin wasn’t hurt or didn’t have some kind of mark. However, there was nothing. As if nothing happened the previous night. Maybe it was all a fucking dream. 

A good dream, at least. 

I just needed to get over it. 

It wasn’t the first time that I had a wet dream, but it certainly was the first time that I remembered it so vividly and left me questioning my reality. Also, it was the first wet dream about a colleague which made it even weirder. 

“Good morning everyone!”

Spencer’s familiar voice almost made me collapse down on my knees. I saw him walking inside the office with that usual adorable smile on his face and a familiar pink box in his hands. He brought everyone breakfast. It wasn’t unusual for him, but that smile… and the look on his face made me think that something might’ve happened to him. 

He was unusually chirpy. And most importantly, he wasn’t drinking coffee. 

“Hi Spencer.” I managed to say

Spencer walked past me. His smile turned into a smirk. 

“Good morning, sweet girl.”

Oh, fuck.

Remember that if you asked to be on my taglist, you can easily help me gain visibility with a like, a comment or a simple reblog. If you don’t, you’re asking me to include you while getting nothing in return. If you want to be removed from the taglist, just dm me. Taglist: @reidselle @alelaeljfj @blvebanisters @Koukatsuki @donttrustlove @moesdraft @r-3dlips @alicentswife @singinghamtaro-blog @Florebore @Topguncultleader @frutilooplupin @mags11 @myoui-me @iluvreid @slaygirl466 @Kikista @icarusgold @pleasantwitchgarden @ohdearlordspencerreid @cherrqblssms @lover-of-books-and-tea @elizabethmidnight2017 @spencerssoup @emmy-reid2627 @winkev1 @benji-screem

[nottsangel]

— porn link.

dating dealer!theo is difficult at times, especially for a girl like you, who requires relatively a lot of attention that he couldn’t always provide given his spontaneous and irregular ‘working’ hours. thankfully for you, he allowed you to join him on his daily adventures. and yes, he was hesitant at first, knowing the dangers of his unusual job, but after all your whining and pleading, he agreed, so now you’re happily accompanying him, going from customer to customer on a busy day. and besides, he prefers to keep an eye on you at all times, knowing it’s easier to protect you with you by his side anyway.

but it was late already, the sun having set hours ago as the eerie moonlight seeps through the blinds of yet another customer’s house. you felt tired, bored, and most of all, suffering from a terrible lack of attention. the chatter between the men goes in one ear and out the other as you sit on theo’s lap, your head resting against his chest while feeling his gun behind the waistband of his pants pressing uncomfortably against your side.

theo, on the other hand, acts as if you are not even in the room, leaving you to sulk as you glare up at him through your eyelashes. he sits back, arms resting relaxed on the couch with his legs wide and his piercing eyes stern and narrowed as he gazes at the men in front of him, a little bag of white powder in one of his hands as he tells them his usual sales pitch. he exudes an air of power, dominance and authority, as his cold and emotionless face is fixed ahead, eyes occasionally darting to the stash of cash on the table.

when the two men momentarily leave the room to discuss further points, you wrap your arms around theo’s neck, trying to get his attention— which is… difficult. “theo, are we almost done? i just— i wanna go home.” you whine for the tenth time that day, clinging to him as you pout and stare at him with your best doe-like eyes. “we’ll be done soon, amore. be a good girl f’me and keep that pretty mouth shut for a little longer, okay? think you can do that?” you nod obediently, yet you let out a defeated sigh. you gaze around the unsettling, dirty room, the awful smell of all kinds of drugs mixed together filling your nostrils as the entire place looks like a mess, and you can’t wait to finally leave.

it’s in the car when he realises that you’re at your limit, as you refuse to talk to him, your arms crossed and an exasperated look on your face. luckily for you, he knows exactly what to do in moments like these. without saying a word, he drags you to the back seat and practically folds you in half with your legs in the air, almost touching the roof of the car, revealing your soaked panties and making you squeal. “okay. i know what’s going on here.”

the same intimidating, power-driven expression doesn’t falter from his handsome face as he rips your black, lace panties apart as if it’s nothing and folds your skirt up, exposing your dripping cunt that has been craving attention all day long. you gaze up at him with desperate eyes, finally about to get what you’ve been yearning for. a gasp escapes you before an abrupt moan slips from your swollen lips as he gives you some well-deserved pussy slaps, evidently relishing your reaction to his touch.

“such a needy fuckin’ slut. can’t even go an hour without some dick, huh?” he growls, practically drooling at the sight of your glistening cunt, feeling himself grow hard as he leans down and suddenly licks your slick arousal, eliciting a choked sob from you. he moans right into your core, never growing weary of your sweet taste, as he pushes your legs further apart, your muscles hurting at the stretch but the pain is quickly overshadowed by his soft lips sucking expertly on your aching clit.

you arch your back at his touch, your hands gripping his brown locks as loud, high-pitched moans escape your mouth and fill the car while he sloppily devours you like it’s his last meal on earth. “so this was all that was needed to get you to shut up? i see.” he murmurs cockily against your cunt as he suddenly slips two fingers in at once, the tip of his digits instantly rubbing against your sweet spot. “next time i’ll make sure to fuck you between every. single. customer, cara mia. gonna make sure you’re dripping with my cum all day long, like the dirty little slut that you are. and i don’t want to hear any fuckin’ complaints, got it?”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[no-144444]

the grid reacts: getting caught making out!

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

-------------------

Oscar Piastri 

It was just meant to be a small peck, but then he wrapped his arms around you, and it escalated. It had all started with a tiny peck, just before you left his driver’s room to leave him time alone before the race, but Oscar had very persuasive lips (and a very persuasive tongue). He lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he deepened the kiss, holding you impossibly close. Then he sat down on his physio table, making you straddle him as you got as turned on as he was. You two had time, right? His hands grabbed anywhere and everywhere, exploring your body, despite knowing it so well. You whimpered into his mouth as he squeezed your ass, making you jolt forward. He smirked as you pulled back, throwing him a look of annoyance. 

“Let me kiss it better?” he smirked and you playfully hit his chest, and he pulled you back in for another kiss. "I love you."

“Oscar! We’ve been calling you for-” Lando’s voice rang out as you scrambled to get off of him, but Lando had already seen. You buried your head in your hands, embarrassed and trying not to laugh as Oscar pulled his cap off of his head and covered his bulge. Lando burst out laughing, nearly falling to the floor as he realised what he’d walked in on, and you got up to leave, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and giving Lando a kick on your way out. 

You: We are never doing that again. Top 10 most embarrassing moments of my life. 

Oscar: Ok WatchMojo. 

You: Sassy man apocalypse. 

-------------------

Charles Leclerc

Charles was a horny man after races. No matter how tired he was, he had to have you. That’s how you ended up in his driver’s room with his lips on yours. He was intoxicating. His sounds, his lips, his tongue. Everything. 

“Mon coeur,” he bit down softly on your collarbone. “Tu es trop belle pour être vraie-” (you are too beautiful to be true)

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me Charles,” you said, out of breath. He had a habit of trying to take things slowly, especially in risky places. You were almost sure he had a thing for doing it in public. He smirked down at you and pressed his lips to your again, using one hand to start to undo your trousers. 

Suddenly the door flew open and you both sat up, hitting your head off of the other’s head, both of you groaning out in pain. 

“Connerie,” he hissed, holding his forehead. 

“Motherfuck!” you groaned as Arthur stared at the two of you dumbfounded, his cheeks red. 

“I’ll just… come back later,” he said, then closed the door behind him. 

“We’ve just traumatised your little brother,” you sighed, hiding your face in the nape of his neck. 

“He will survive,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Too bad my pride didn’t,” you added, making him laugh. God, you loved his laugh. 

-------------------

Daniel Riccardo 

He was a slick bastard. One ‘I need help with my suit babe’  and there you were in his driver’s room, your shirt being pulled off and new hickies being left over the fading ones. It had been 2 weeks since you’d seen Daniel, too busy to come to the last race, and then you were travelling for a friend’s wedding. Now you were back, and Daniel was planning on showing you just how much he missed you, 40 minutes before the race started, aka, when he was already supposed to be in the damn car. 

“Daniel, we should stop just-” You started, thinking about someone walking in on you two. Sadly RB didn’t give their driver’s fucking locks on their doors, probably because of Baku 2018… yeah, you and Daniel weren’t exactly quiet, and he wasn’t exactly happy after that race. “Slow down.”

He pulled back, smirking up at you. “Baby, come on, we have a bunch of time, and I haven’t seen you in 2 whole weeks, who’s going to walk in?”

You nodded and pressed your lips to his again, allowing your conscience to fall away with the way he was kissing you. Kissing Daniel was like nothing else. Everything else fell away, there was only him. 

But who would walk in? Yuki, probably. 

“Daniel- WOAH! LOCK THE DOOR!” he screamed, alerting the entire motorhome of your actions. You quickly pulled your shirt back over your head as he ran out. As Daniel laughed for a solid minute, you tried to get over your loss of dignity. Yuki sure did make things interesting.

“I have no lock arsehole!” Daniel laughed. 

“You do! It’s the weird thing above the handle!” One of the mechanics shouted back. You walked over to the door, turning the thing above the handle, and the door locked. Daniel laughed even harder. 

Once you finally stopped Daniel from laughing, you both walked out to the whole team clapping and whooping. 

Yeah, not your finest moment. 

-------------------

George Russell

His stupid dumb pretty face. He just looked so kissable, and you couldn’t help yourself. He was covered in champagne, and he was supposed to be using these 5 minutes to shower and change, but you had other plans. You ran him to his driver’s room, started kissing him, and didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to mind, even if it meant he wouldn’t get to shower and he’d just be champagne-y all night. He pushed you against the wall, his hands on your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. His soft, gorgeous hair. 

His hands travelled up, taking your top with them and you smirked. 

“Getting handsy?” You smirked. 

“Never,” he shook his head and pulled your top off, beginning his assault on your neck. 

“George! Get out of the fucking shower, you can condition later- OH FUCK OFF!” Aleix, his trainer shouted and ran back out the door. George did the gentlemanly thing and covered you, but not without laughter. 

“George!” you hissed as he laughed. “Give me my top!” 

He handed you your top and quickly changed into a new suit, spraying himself in deodorant. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek with one last chuckle. “It's a good story for the grandkids,” he shrugged, leaving you with a smile as he went off to do interviews.

-------------------

Alex Albon

Alex had finished in the points again, and you were just so proud of him. Since he’d gotten out of the car you’d kissed him many a thousand times, but he wasn’t complaining. Actually he’d started making out with you about 3 minutes ago, and something in his kisses told you he wasn’t planning on stopping.

“Your mom will be here any minute,” you reminded him, pulling away. He rolled his eyes. 

“Did you seriously just mention my mom while I had a semi?”

“Had?”

“You mentioned my mom!” 

You chuckled and pressed another kiss to his perfect lips. He pulled you back in, kissing you deeply as his hands ran through your hair, messing it up, but you didn’t care. It felt too good, he felt too good. He nipped at your lips, coaxing them open so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hands slowly went further down, dangerously close to where your top zipped. 

“Alex,” You warned, breathless. 

He smirked up at you. “For a minute?” 

“Alex-”

“Alex? Are you in here?” George asked, walking in. The Brit was stopped in his tracks when he saw you on his lap, hiding your face in his neck as you tried to contain your embarrassment. He hadn’t even seen anything, but your cheek heated and you wanted the floor to swallow you up.  “Oh, sorry for cockblocking, chat later.”

You both started laughing when he left. 

“We need to start locking the door,” he sighed. 

“I think I’m in shock, I thought that was your mom!” you cried, your breath finally going back to normal as Alex laughed at you. 

-------------------

Lewis Hamilton

It wasn’t fair how good he looked in his media day outfits, and he knew it too. He knew you’d pull him to the side and tell him to meet you in his driver’s room, he knew he’d come, and he knew he’d get to fuck you. 

So there you were, in his driver’s room, his lips on yours as you both desperately pulled each other’s clothes off. 

Too bad you forgot to lock the door. 

“Lewis have you- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK MY EYES!” Lando immediately covered his eyes, turning around as you dressed yourselves. Did you feel guilty? Yes. Did you care at all? Not really. As soon as he left, would you two continue? Probably. “HAVE SOME SHAME AND HUMILITY PLEASE?”

Lewis laughed. “What do you need now?” 

“Bleach for my eyes, maybe!” Lando’s voice cracked and he turned back, his cheeks red. “I need an extra ice pack if you have one.” 

Lewis nodded and got one of his ice packs out of the freezer in the corner of his room. “Here.”

Lando took it and left without another word. You looked at Lewis, shaking your head. 

“I thought you locked the door,” you smirked, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss up your neck. 

“That’s funny, I thought you did,” he smirked. 

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered. 

“I don’t really care.”

-------------------

Max Verstappen 

He’d won (again), and he was horny afterwards (again). As soon as he was done with the podium and the main interviews, he ran to his driver’s room and called you to meet him there, needing some ‘support’.

“Max,” you hissed as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, kissing down your neck. 

“Yes?”  he answered innocently, pressing his lips to yours again. 

“You have interviews-” 

“Fuck the media,” he whispered. “I want you.”

“Max this is a bad idea-” 

Just then, the door swung open to reveal Daniel, holding a camera. 

“You two need to keep it down, we can hear you down at RB!” he laughed as MAx started blushing, pushing his friend out of the room. They fought for a moment, but Daniel eventually left you two alone. Max sat beside you, letting you lean into him. 

“He’s going to post that, isn’t he?”  You asked. 

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You’d never have a day of peace with him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------------------

Lando Norris

He was a sly bitch. It started as small pecks on your neck and the top of your head, then it was kisses on the lips, and now he had his tongue down your throat as you ground down on him, even though you both knew he was needed elsewhere.

"That's it," he whispered, loosing himself in the feeling of the both of you. "Feels so good."

You nodded, in pure ecstasy as you felt his hands and lips on you. "So good Lan."

His hands pulled you closer (if that was even possible) and you smiled into the kiss. This was the perfect moment-

"LAN!" Zak brown's voice pulled you both out of it, and you scrambled to get up.

Lando sighed as you left his lap and groaned out a simple "What?"

"We need you for a marketing thing, come on, chop chop!" Zak was as oblivious and cheery as ever and you could barely contain your laughter at Lando's 'annoyed teenager' face, as you and Oscar had started calling it.

"Bye baby," you pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he fought back the urge to ignore his duties and just go back to the hotel and spend the rest of the day with you.

-------------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[babyleostuff]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 588

⦗💌 ⦘ mingyu loves his two girls to death. even if he gets bullied by them on a daily basis.

“daddy! daddy look!” a comically small hand grabbed the hem of mingyu’s jumper, and pulled at it. with a small smirk (that obviously went unnoticed by the carbon copy of his wife because according to her he was a giant), mingyu turned his head towards the sky, just to tease the little girl. 

“mommy!” she whined, wrapping both of her arms around mingyu’s legs, “daddy is ignoring me again!” 

you sighed, and shook your head. what was supposed to be a nice post-dinner stroll around the neighbourhood turned into the usual - mingyu teasing your little girl with no end, because a minute of peace was too much for him. at least bopul was behaving himself. 

but then an idea struck you. mingyu could tease you and your daughter as much as he wished, but you both had him wrapped around your little fingers, and there wasn’t much you had to do to leave your husband pouty and sulky. you crouched in front of your little girl, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “tell daddy no kisses for a week. and no pre-bedtime cuddles,” you whispered, and kissed her cheek gently. 

she nodded vigorously, matching your bright smile. a lot of people told you she looked exactly like you (except for mingyu’s eyes, and the little mole on her nose), but her personality had to be even more similar to yours. making mingyu suffer had to be one of her favourite things as well. 

“kim mingyu,” she said, tilting her head towards the sky. “up,” she added and put her hands up, something she did whenever she wanted mingyu to carry her. 

“gosh, when did you become so bossy, hm?” he cooed at her, but the little girl didn’t fall for her dad's sudden change of heart. 

“mommy is bossy, and i want to be like mommy,” she said as a matter of fact, like that didn’t just make your heart burst with love. “besides , that’s not the point,” she took mingyu’s face in her tiny hands, “no kisses, and no pre-bedtime cuddles for you, daddy.” 

you had to stifle a laugh, as the corners of your husband’s mouth momentarily turned down. “w-what do mean no-”

“no, daddy. you were being mean to me,” your daughter smushed his cheeks in between her hands. “and,” she leaned into mingyu’s ear, “you won’t get any kisses from mommy either. she’s angry too.” 

mingyu looked over his daughter's shoulder and sent you a pleading look. "i was just joking," he said, the slight pout evident in his voice. your little girl giggled and snuggled into her daddy's neck, making mingyu tighten his embrace around her. "girls, please."

“not this time, kim mingyu,” you smiled and walked over to your daughter and husband. "us girls have to stick together, right honey?" you rubbed the girl's cheek, making her laugh even more.

"yes, mommy," she said and nodded eagerly.

mingyu sighed and shook his head in resignation. if it was anyone else he’d keep fighting just to strike their nerve even more, but when he looked down at you smiling fondly at your little bundle of love and chaos that he was holding in his arms, mingyu didn’t have it in him to keep teasing his daughter. 

“i love you two so much, you know” he said. “and if you won’t give me kisses, then you can be damn sure i will.” 

“words min-,” 

“oh shut up,” he said, and wrapped his free arm around your waist to pull you to his chest.

natalia's note: i don't know how children work, so if something is inaccurate - sorry (i have no idea why i wrote this)

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[chiscaralight]

early mornings with you<3

the sun is just rising, but he's already hungry for you.

includes: nsfw! dr ratio, scaramouche, aventurine, childe, jing yuan, alhaitham (separately). morning sex, could be read as either cannon or modern au, use of all characters' real names, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), domestic themes, and super soft all round. cock warming, somnophilia, fingering,

a/n: super self indulgent 😔me when please.

veritas ratio.

the light spilling in from the crack in the blinds illuminates your face perfectly. veritas can only stare up at you longingly as his tongue rolls in and out of you. you look so beautiful, your eyes squeezed shut as your face contorted in pleasure. hands fisting in his hair as you grind your hips against his face. he would usually hold you down, dragging his lips off you to throw you a firm be patient. but he indulges you this time, humming into you as your thighs tighten around the sides of his head.

when he finally pulls away from you, his chin is soaked with your release. your body is relaxing as he crawls over you. his lips connect with yours in a strong kiss. your arms wrap securely around his neck, drawing him closure to ensure he cannot escape, but he's not going anywhere. not now, not ever.

kunikuzushi.

you could barely keep your eyes open. you couldn't have been awake for more than twenty, thirty minutes? but his hand has been nestled comfortably in your underwear for most of that short time. his bony fingers scissor your hole as you weakly gasp out his name. another moan slips from your lips as his teeth graze the skin of your neck. the swell of your ass is pushing against his hardening cock and he's hissing against your skin as he curls his fingers. you whimper out his name one last time before you cum.

he doesn't mind just staying like this. you're warm against his cool body and your breath is so calming to him. but with the way your hand is creeping behind you to brush your fingers against his erection, he reckons that he won't be laying down like this much longer.

kakavasha.

now, his mind is very good at conveying heavy feelings to him, but the pleasure he's feeling now is too good for it to just be a dream. he's cracking his eyes open, and he's only slightly taken aback. you're working your tongue so well around his tip, kitten licking up and down his length.

"you're just so full of surprises, aren't you?"

the look in your eyes is playful as you meet his violet ones. he lets out a small laugh and adjusts himself back into the pillow. he's letting you do what you want, fingers only softly scratching your scalp as his hands find your scalp. but as much as he knows every inch of your body, you know exactly what makes him tick. so you're not shocked when you feel thick strings of his cum hitting the back of your throat. but you are when he's pinning you back down onto the bed. his lips are trailing soft kisses from the valley between your breasts down to just above your heat. after all, he would have to return the favor.

ajax.

immediately he notices you are not in his arms, he's up and alert. he's already imagining the worst, did you leave? were you taken? his nerves are only calmed once he hits the entrance of the kitchen. there you are in only a shirt, his shirt as you stir the bowl of batter with all your strength. he can't help the smile that quickly finds his face. you gasp softly as his strong arms snake around your waist. you're quick to turn your head towards him to press a quick kiss, but he's not ready to let go just yet. once he pulls back, you're already chasing his lips once more.

breakfast long forgotten, he slowly rocks his hips into you. the cool of the smooth surface against your ass is no match for the heat the two of you are generating. his voice is low, but the words of praise he whispers ring loud in your ears. you tighten your arms arms around his neck and sigh. these were the slow mornings you longed for. the two of you in your own little world, nothing from the outside getting in.

jing yuan.

jing yuan is definitely one to savor things. he takes his time, analyzing the components and picking things apart. which is exactly why his lazy gaze is trained on your face as he languorously drags his cock between your soaked folds. your brows knit and the tired mewl you let out has his lips bending up into a coy smile. when you do finally open your eyes, his gold pupils are staring right at you, large arm holding your leg in place over his as you unconsciously buck up against him. his hand shifts to your face, his thumb running against your cheek as you lean into the warmth.

when he finally does push into you, the grumble he lets out is low in his chest. you feel it in every vein, every nerve as he rolls into you. your hand is cupping over his own and your eyes meet his once again in a loving gaze.

alhaitham.

alhaitham is slightly slouched down into the bed. back to his chest, your cunt is wrapped around his length. one of his holds the spine of the book you two picked together while the other hand turns the page. it's your turn to read aloud now. you're barely a sentence in before a single hard thrust has his name flying out of your mouth instead of the words on the page. his hearty laugh has you swatting at his arm. he gives you a half-hearted apology as he adjusts to keep the book in one hand while the other wraps securely around your waist. with no interruption from the man under you now, the words flow out like water.

the sound of your voice is like music to his ears. he doesn't even know when he starts hitting small thrusts up into you. against his better judgment, he's flinging the book to the side and hooking his arms under your knees. your head lolls back into the crook of his neck with a smile and his lips find your skin. and you let out the most gorgeous noises. he's sighing into the skin of your neck, wet kisses trailing along your orgasm washes over your body.

[toadtoru]

Satoru knows that he’s a little messed up. He supposes that's why he and Suguru fit so well. Shoko as well. They're all a little bloodied up, a little bruised. Like broken puzzle pieces that don't fit anywhere else, all pushed to the side of the table.

Shoko in particular really likes poking at the bruises. She likes watching the purple and blue bloom across his pale skin. She's even asked if she can open him up — take a look at what's inside. He usually reclines this offer.

You're a little different.

You don't like when Satoru picks at the scabs. He had to get used to this at first. The apparent realisation that you don't inherently expect anything from him. You don’t find his over confident jokes funny nor do you like it when he refers to himself as the strongest.

It’s weird. You’re weird.

He wonders how exactly he ended up here as you curl into his side, arms wrapped tightly around him. Your soft breathing fills the room, an occasional snore leaving you.

It’s all very soft and warm. Satoru doesn’t know whether to push you away or pull you closer. He looks at your sleeping form.

One of your eyes peeks open and you blink groggily at him. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

Satoru smiles. That’s what he’s used to doing, anyway. “Nothing,” he says. Your brows furrow as you snuggle closer to him, throwing a leg over his thigh. Satoru swears you must have been a koala in an earlier life. That’s the only explanation as to why you’re so clingy.

You’d never tell him that it’s because you’re desperately afraid of him slipping away if you were to let go for even a second.

“Something’s clearly up with you, but I’ll let you of the hook for now since I’m tired,” you say, burying your face in his neck. Satoru laughs.

“I have to go to work,” he says. You let out a groan, clutching him tighter. How that’s possible, Satoru isn’t entirely sure.

“It’s still night. Don’t go yet,”

It’s magnetic, the pull you have on him. Satoru finds himself wishing now more than ever that you were his only responsibility.

He’ll pretend. For a little while. Surely, no one can blame him for this little respite. (They will. He’ll deal with that later.)

Satoru closes his eyes, letting himself melt into your tight embrace.

They owe him that, at least.