#well there's one way to fix that... ◉⁠‿⁠◉

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze transfixed. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have you fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he goons his shorts off and you were starting to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. your gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel, taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you in his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away and kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.”

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. he gives into your request, it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. you head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, walls fluttering around him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time for come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft unmarred skin.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[seungfl0wer]

*𝐵𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝑀𝑒*

Pairing: OT8!Vampires x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Polly, Multiple Rounds/Orgasms/Creampies, Biting, Mentions of Blood, Face fucking, Oral(Both), Double P, Light Degrading, Praise, uhm I think that’s it? Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings

A/N: oh boy is this long. This is basically a one shot. So I hope you enjoy the little Valentine’s Day treat!

-❤️

Today was Valentine’s Day, the day of love. The day where everything was about cute mushy things. Bleh. You didn’t care too much for the so called holiday however your boyfriends did. They always loved spoiling you and today they could do even more.

They have lived long enough to know some of the best ideas. However for you, they always liked going over the top. Living in a world run but monsters it wasn’t super often that they’d find a human. Nor was it even heard of that they’d ever fall in love again. Living as long as they have they’ve seen love come and go and all swore off of dating all together. That is until little ol you came to them. Car braking down by their house as it rained. You didn’t even get out to ask for help just sat there until they ended up seeing your car.

Chan brought you in offering you a place to stay while they got your car fixed. One thing lead to another and you’ve been with them for a few years now. At first it was more of a roommate situation until you found your way into their hearts one by one. The little things you did for them, or the things you’d say. You really just had them all wrapped around your finger. They never even drank from you, opting to go to blood banks for their supplies. A few slip ups here and there but they were more concerned about your well being than getting a meal.

When you woke up this morning, greeted by the smell of breakfast you were met by a sleepy Jisung curled around you. Minho had knocked on your door bringing you breakfast in bed. “Good morning beautiful, I hope you slept well.” He said smiling at you fondly. He placed the food on a small table in-front of you, not before scooting you over so he could cuddle up to you. “Thank you! It looks so good” you replied.

“Shit I’ll be right back I forgot something” he groaned getting back up to grab whatever he had forgotten. In that time jisung had started to wake rubbing his eyes groggily. “Happy Valentine’s Day gorgeous” he said kissing your cheek. “You know the best way to start your day off right?” He said smiling.

“How?” You said back.

“Let me show you” he said as he moved his body down. He kissed your kissed your neck moving down to your collarbone. He kept going down until he was at your waist.

He kissed ever so sweetly against your hips his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. Before you could wrap your head around anything he was pushing your legs apart. Pulling down your panties as he kissed up your leg. He peppered you with more kisses, to your thighs, to your mound and finally to your clit. The sensation made you choke on the small bite of food you had in your mouth. “Ji-“ you whined out softly. He only smirked before licking slowly up your folds. His hands hooking your legs in place so he could get every angel. His wet tongue glided up and down your cunt, lapping at every spot. He nibbled at your clit before he finally pushed his tongue into your now soaked hole.

“Jisung you can’t even let her eat?” Minho said from the door with an annoyed chuckle.

“She can still eat” he snapped back.

Minho rolled his eyes making his way back to you. “His a little horn dog ain’t he?” Minho laughed. “But you are too aren’t you” he said leaning closer to your neck. He kissed it softly his pillowy lips warm against your skin. He cupped your face in one of his hands pulling you into a heated make out session while jisung continued the assault on your sensitive cunt.

Minhos tongue darted into your mouth lapping at your own tongue, swallowing any moans that dared to escape. His hand wondered down your body resting right about your clit. He gave your bottom lip a little nibble before his skilled fingers worked their magic on you. He knew how to get you off so quickly. He knew you like he knew how to breathe, It just came natural to him. He toyed with your clit as jisung messily ate you out. Your body arched off the bed only to be held back down in place with Jisungs strong arms.

“C-close” you said against Minhos lips feeling a powerful high ready to burst from you. Your legs clenched around Jisungs head as they shook.

“Cum for me love, let me taste you” jisung moaned against your cunt.

Minho had other plans though, he pushed down his pants maneuvering himself under you. “No beautiful, I want you to cum on my cock” he groaned.

Jisung didn’t even seem to care as Minho pushed himself into you. Sliding in with ease as to how wet you were. Jisung didn’t stop though, oh no. He started to suck harshly at your clit biting ever so softly. The feeling of being filled so quickly and Jisung ravaging your cunt made your body convulse. Cumming hard around Minhos cock. Jisung lapped at your folds as best as he could. Licking at every drop he could get. “God- need- need you” he moaned out his eyes glossed over as he looked down at you.

“You can take us both right love? Want us both to fuck you?” Minho said below you.

“Y-yes” you stuttered out still recovering from your high.

Jisung quickly rid himself of his pants, almost falling over in the process. He aligned himself to your entrance pushing in with Minhos cock. All three of you let out the most sinful moan at the feeling. They matched each other pace fucking into you in perfect rhythm like they have so many times before. You had a plan of yourself today. You wanted them all to mark you. To leave bite marks anywhere they wanted but you needed them all. Wanted them all.

“Ji- min-minho, I want- I want you both to bite me” you breathed out.

“What? Y/n you can’t say that sort of thing” Jisung whined.

“Please? All I want is for everyone to know I belong to you all. Please. Bite me. Taste every part of me-“ you almost cried.

Jisung was about to say something else before he watched as Minho bit down on your shoulder. The smell of your blood sending him into overdrive. They both were fucking into you deep, their cocks hitting your cervix with every thrust. “Minho!” You screamed as you felt the euphoric feeling of the bite. Minho lapped at the small amount of blood that trickled out before feeling his release drawing near. “Fuck- this is why we don’t feed from you- you just- ah- taste so good” he groaned against your skin.

Jisung leaned down kissing your lips messily before pulling away once more. “Are you positive?” He asked.

You quickly nodded “I’m- I’m so positive” you replied.

Jisung took your hand in his moving your arm to his lips before kissing gently. He let his fangs scrape against your skin before biting down gently. The taste of your blood was to much for him though because as soon as that sweet taste hit his lips. He was cumming, filling you full of his warm cum.

“Jisung- ah- shit- you ass I- fuck I’m cumming!” Minho moaned thrusting deeper into you before filling you just as jisung did. You let out a silent moan body shaking once more as you came again. Your arms flung around jisung pulling him to you as you all tried catching your breath. In the small silence moment your stomach started to rumble making the guys laugh.

“Good job Jisung, y/n’s hungry and it’s all your fault.” Minho teased.

“Sorry love, let’s get you cleaned up so you can finish breakfast yeah?” He said running to get a towel.

—

When you made your way to the kitchen you found Felix making you some of his delicious cookies. “There’s my beautiful angel, how’d you sleep?” He asked flashing you that bright smile.

“I slept well” you replied breathing in deeply “those smell so good” you said making your way behind him.

“They’re still hot so give them a few minutes to cool down ok?” He said.

“But what am I gonna do till then, sit here and drool?” You giggled.

“I mean I could think of something” Felix replied with a little smirk.

“And what’s that?”

With in seconds Felix had you pressed against the counter your loose shirt pushed up. He kissed your neck softly as he spoke “let me make you feel good hmm?” He said as he nibbled your ear. You nodded, pressing your ass back against his already hard cock. “Then I can have cookies” you giggled.

“Yes, then you can have cookies” he laughed.

Felix’s hand roamed up your body playing with your perky nipples as his other hand pushed down his pants. “I love you so much Angel, you have no idea” he said peppering your neck with soft kisses. He pulled back a bit as he saw the bite mark Minho had given you. “Who bit you Angel?” He asked.

“Minho and Jisung, I asked them too. Will you uhm- bite me to you?” You asked.

“We don’t-“ he started to say before you spoke again.

“I know, but I just want everyone to see who I belong to.. so please? Just a little bite?” You said turning your head to look at him.

“Fine.. anything you want angel” he said.

He slid his cock up and down your folds pressing his body against yours. “Anything you ever want I’ll give you” he breathed out before pushing himself into you. Your hands gripped the counter as he slowly moved. He was always so gentle, wanting to take his time with you. He moved a bit faster his free hand now wrapped around your waist pulling you as close as he could get you. He moved looking at your unmarked shoulder “are you sure?” He asked.

“Very- please Lix- bite me” you moaned out.

He hesitated but did as you asked sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The small amount of blood the came out made his eyes roll. His grip around your waist tightened as his speed picked up. He was fucking into you faster and faster. “Lix! Fuck-“ you cried.

“Angel- feel good- feels so good- and you- taste so fucking heavenly I can’t- fuck- fuck-“ he snapped his hips into you hard almost knocking the cookies off the counter. He came quickly, pumping all of him inside you as he let out a low groan against your skin.

The last powerful thrust accompanied by the feeling of his warm cum filling your walls pushed you over the edge. Cumming around his cock that was buried so deep inside you. “That- was hot” Felix said with a light chuckle. “It didn’t hurt did it?” He asked.

“No- felt- felt good” you stuttered. He slowly pulled out grabbing a cloth To clean you up with. He kissed you lovingly as he looked at the mark he had made. “I love you” he said smiling.

“And I love you” he smiled back at him. “Now it’s cookie time” you said making you both laugh.

——

“That’s a dumb idea!” You heard from one of the room.

“She’s gonna love it just you watch” you heard another voice say.

You opened the door slowly peaking your head in. You saw Changbin and Seungmin huddled around something your curiosity getting the better of you. “What are you guys doing?” You asked making them both jump.

“Bunny!” Binnie said smiling. “Hey come here seungmin has a really dumb thing for you” he said laughing.

“It’s not dumb, you’re dumb” he said pouting. “It’s not ready yet but, it will be soon!” He said moving so you could see.

It was a long box that was weirdly shaped with some sort of white foam in it? “What is it?” You asked.

“He made you a dick mold” Changbin blurted out.

“What?” You said confused.

“I made a mold of my dick, and I’m letting the silicone dry now. You can use it when we are away.” He said with a smirk.

“So you made me a dildo of your cock?” You said with a laugh.

“See it’s dumb” Changbin said crossing his arms.

“No no I didn’t say it was dumb it’s just funny.” You replied. “You’re not away now though, so.. I can just use the real thing right?” You said with a smirk.

“Yes! Yes you can! Right now?” He said with wide eyes pulling you towards the bed.

“Wow slow down there puppy” you said teasingly.

But he didn’t wanna hear it. He pushed your body down against the bed. Quickly straddling you before leaning down to kiss you. “Hey that’s not fair I’m here too!” Changbin said making his way over to you two.

“Hey you said my idea was dumb! See where it got me” Seungmin teased. Changbin rolled his eyes before hooking his arms around seungmins waist hosting him off of you. He quickly took his place leaning down to kiss you just like Seungmin did.

“Ass! She’s mine!” Seungmin growled trying to push Changbin from you, but to no avail.

“Gentleman please, don’t fight over little ol me. You can share” you said with a smile.

Seungmin grumbled as he moved behind you, pulling your body to him. Your back resting on his chest. He kissed your neck, Changbin quickly going to take your panties off. “No panties?” He said with a smirk.

“Felix took them off earlier” you said with a chuckle.

“Yeah? One of these marks are from him? And the other two?” Seungmin asked his finger tracing over the bite marks on your shoulder.

“Yes, that’s what I want today. I want you all to mark me.” You said.

“Yeah? Bunny wants to show the world who she belongs to hmm? Seungmins not a nice biter though” he teased.

“He’s right for once. Are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeees.” You said.

Changbin let his hand run up your legs, his fingers finding your clit. Your body jumped at the feeling. Your clit already sensitive from the morning. Seungmin chuckled against your skin as he kissed your neck. “Lift your hips for me” he asked. And you did just that lifting your hips up as he aligned himself to your entrance. “Gonna let us ruin this perfect pussy?” He said as he moved his tip up and down your folds

“Y-yes- fuck yes please” you whined.

“Such a needy little bunny” Changbin said with a smirk.

Seungmin grabbed ahold your hips pulling you down onto his cock. “Fuck I’ll never get tired of the feeling of being inside you- so- so fucking warm” he groaned.

“My pretty bunny, open that mouth for me yeah? Let me use it” Changbin said now standing beside you cock in hand. You nodded opening your mouth as he asked. He slowly glided the head into your mouth head falling back at the feeling. You took him in and out as seungmin fucked into you fast.

Seungmin grabbed ahold of your head “come on love, you can suck him off better than that.” He growled pushing your head further down Changbins length. “Shit- ah- fuck bunny-“ changbin moaned out his hands coming up to stop seungmins movements. However you agree with Seungmin you could do better. You could be making him see stars. And you will. You bobbed your head faster taking all of his length into your mouth. His hands rested on your head, gripping onto your hair as if to ground himself.

Seungmin picked a spot to mark you, slightly above Minhos. Closer to your neck. He dug his teeth into you a bit harder than the rest making your eyes roll back. You were so close to coming just at that feeling. Seungmin lapped at the blood that pooled around the marks eyes blowing out at his grip on your hips tightened. His hand came down to toy with your clit giving it a harsh slap as he fucked into you like he hated you.

You were moaning loudly around Changbins cock the vibrations sending him into overdrive. He started to fuck into your mouth faster chasing after his own high. “Fucking hell you taste so fucking good” Seungmin hissed. His eyes caught a glimpse of Changbin who was barely holding back his release. He smirked at the thought that crossed his mind before grabbing your head once more. He pushed your head quickly, taking all of changbin back your throat.

Bins legs shook at the feeling cumming back your throat. He let out a low groan holding onto your hand tightly as his hot cum dripped down your throat. He glared down at the younger man before pulling away from your mouth. He kissed your lips softly, kissing down your body to your chest. He smirked biting down at the top of your breast. Your body shook once more from the pleasure not realizing how close your high was till now. You came hard around seungmins cock making him moan loudly.

“Fuck- fuck- love- ah-“ he moaned out before cumming deep inside you with a whine.

“You did that on purpose ass!” Seungmin whined loudly.

“Yeah well now we’re even.” He said. Before coming up to you to cup your face once more. “Are you ok bunny?” He asked grabbing you a glass of water he had. You nodded sipping on the drink. “Never- better” you chuckle.

——

“Hey beautiful we are gonna go out for dinner later. I think innie has something he wants you to wear.” Chan said from the door of your room.

“Oooh I’ll go see him!” You said with a smile.

You made your way to his room Chan following behind you to see your reaction.

“Perfect y/n you’re here! I got this for you! I wanted to match for our dinner tonight.” He said with a smile.

“That’s so sweet” you said making your way to him to hug him. “Want me to try it on?” You said grabbing the cute outfit he had picked. He nodded eagerly.

They both watched as you undressed but something quickly caught Chans eyes. “Princess, who’s been biting you?” He said concerned.

“Oh! I asked them too! I really- uhm- well I really want you all to mark me! So I can show them off y’know?” You said becoming a bit shy at the way he was looking at you.

“I see.. and you still need a few huh?” He said a grin growing across his face.

You could only nod the feeling of his eyes making your heart do flips. “I guess it’s me and innies turn huh?” He said moving closer to you.

“I- I- uhm-“ you stuttered out.

“Princess use your words, tell me. Tell me how badly you want us to put those pretty marks on you.” He said his warm breath fanning against your neck.

“So- badly” you gulped.

“Let’s give Princess what she wants innie?” He said looking over at the boy who already had a tent growing in his pants at thought.

Jeongin hovered above you now, his free cock slowly sliding up and down your cunt as he kissed your chest. Chan stood beside you cock tapping on your tongue. “Open wide princess” he said with a smirk. He pushed his cock back your throat hitting the back almost instantly from his size. Jeongin continued to rut against your cunt moaning against your skin. His eyes met where changbin had marked making his head go fuzzy. He slipped into you accidentally making him moan loudly.

“Fuck- fuck- warm- so warm” he moaned against your skin. His hips moved back and forth sloppily. No rhythm just fucking into you desperately. Chans hand cupped your face as he slid his cock in and out of your mouth. “Gonna make innie cum already” he chuckled.

You glared up at him before twirling your tongue around his sensitive head. His hips bucked on their own a low groan slipping past his lips. “Fuck- Princess-“

Jeongins head was reeling he was close already but he wasn’t gonna cum just yet. No. He still needed to leave a mark on you. As he kissed your breast, tongue twirling around your sensitive nipples. He bit down, sinking his teeth around your breast making your body twitch in pleasure. The taste of your sweet blood met his tongue and he was gone. Fucking into you quicker his big hands gripping onto your waist leaving marks. “That’s it- fuck- take it- take all of me- gonna fill you- s’full” he cried.

His high hit him hard cumming inside you as his body shook. Your hands came up grabbing ahold of Chans balls, massaging them the way he loved. His eyes rolled back as you took control. Bobbing your head fast as you sucked the soul out of him. His hands reached out to grab ahold of your shoulders. Only giving you more purpose to keep going. Then you remembered something biting slightly down around his shaft. Enough he could feel it but not enough for it to hurt. With no warning to you or even him he was cumming quickly. Shooting his hot cum down your throat as his body shook just like jeongins.

Jeongin who was still slightly moving, moved hand down to play with your abused clit. He moved his pretty fingers fast. Chan pulling out of your mouth to finally let the moans fall. He gripped your neck pushing your head slightly to the side to dig his teeth finally into their spot. The mixture of the bite and jeongin had your body arching. Broken moans falling from your lips as you finally came.

Chan quickly went to get something to clean you up with coming back only to find you curled up with Jeongin in bed half asleep. He couldn’t help but smile “you got an hour before we have to leave” he said wiping you off. “Oh and by the way, that was evil. You know I like that to much” he said laughing.

——

The dinner went great, you all sat down at a nice restaurant talking about memories and fun times you had spent with one another. When you finally got home later Hyunjin had a surprise for you. He led you to the bathroom where he had the tub full, flower peddles decorated the outside. Candles lit all around and slow soft music playing.

“I thought we could- just relax together.” He said smiling shyly at you.

“Hyune this is so sweet” you said pulling him into a kiss.

You two quickly got into the warm bath, Hyunjin pulling your body close to his. “I love you” he said kissing your neck.

“I love you too” he said sighing with content.

You both layed their in each other embrace relaxing as you listening to him breath. It was so calming. The sound of breathing was removed by the sounds of soft moans leaving his lips. He moved his hips up slowly his cock resting perfecting between your thighs and warm cunt.

“My love, can- I?” He asked breathily behind you.

“Please” you responded.

He moved his arms around you holding you tighter as he positioned himself better. Cock head resting at your entrance. “I still need one last mark for it to be complete” you said smiling.

“Don’t worry I have the perfect spot my love” he said before pushing in slowly.

The feeling of him finally sitting so snugly in you had your head floaty. The warm water accompanied by his warm presence was a lot already. He had just gotten inside you and you felt like you could cum already. He rocked his hips into you slowly at first only when he heard you moaning did he speed up. His hand caressed your body as he fucked go into you. His lips leaving sloppy kisses to your skin.

His hand wondered lower playing ever so softly with your clit. “My perfect angel” he said softly. “I’m gonna leave the perfect mark on you” he said and with that he was biting your neck. A bit further back from view but enough to see. The taste of your blood sent shockwaves through his body. Moaning at how tight you got from the bite. “My love, you look even more beautiful with all these marks” he groaned. “I can tell you like it” he whispered his hand moving faster over your clit.

“Feels good- you feel good” you moaned out.

“Yeah? Gonna cum with me?” He said turning your head to look at him.

“Close” you moaned.

He nodded as to say he was to before pulling you into a kiss. His thrust were becoming sloppier but somehow better.

He was hitting so deep inside you, just ready to pull your orgasm from you.

He moaned against your lips “I’m gonna-“ he choked out before cumming deep inside you. His arms gripped tightly around you trying to somehow pull you closer. He felt your body shake as you came with him keeping to your words from earlier. He kissed you lovingly once more holding you close to him. “I love you so much” he said sweetly.

——

The night ended with everyone cuddled up in the huge makeshift bed they crafted. Watching tv as everyone relaxed for the night. “You know princes. Maybe it’s time we do the other thing you’ve always wanted?” Chan spoke.

“Really! You mean it!” You said excitedly.

“We all talked about it. And I think it’s time. If you still want to that is.” Chan said.

“Of course I still want to! That means I’ll be with you forever and ever!” You said feeling like you were about to cry.

They all smiled happily at your words. “Alright princess, tomorrow. We’ll do it. We have a whole plan” he said.

What a perfect way to end the day, knowing that tomorrow. Tomorrow they’d turn you like them and you’d live your life with them forever.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143

[imsofreakingtired]

modern!sevika - cute/silly hcs

(that picture,, shes so precious jdhjfsdhnd)

will walk confidently into the room and stand there staring blankly, completely forgetting what she came in there for. sees you and gives you a kiss on the forehead. leaves. 5 seconds later she comes back, grabs her prosthetic arm, and walks out again

lowkey likes when it snows and the streets are icy because that gives her an excuse to make you hang onto her arm in order not to slip (she never slips)

rarely dreams, and when she does it's mostly nightmares, but sometimes she sleep talks the most random things. you wake up to hear her mumbling something like "the chicken is crisper when it's burnt, but i don't want your oil." will also answer you in her sleep if you ask her follow-up questions. remembers none of it in the morning.

or she'll just swear in her native language and you've picked up enough Hindi to wonder whose mother she is cursing.

gets car ad jingles stuck in her head periodically and is always humming something under her breath as she works or vacuums or whatever

has incredible navigational skills when walking or taking public transport but somehow gets lost every time she drives. google maps is the bane of her existence.

falls asleep in front of the TV at 9:30 sharp like a middle aged dad. i mean the TV could be on full blast, in the middle of a climactic action scene and she's knocked out snoring. but when you wake her up to get her into bed she will not be able to fall back asleep until well past midnight

whenever she sneezes and you automatically say "bless you" she NEVER FAILS to give you a deadpan look and say "i am not blessed."

will cackle at bad jokes long after you stop even pretending to find them funny

she's an unwilling morning person. always up early but never happy about it.

when she's stressed she just disappears and fixes something. one time she replaced all the handles of every sink in the house

reads almost exclusively non-fiction books on mechanics, neuroscience, and roman history.

has awful hearing and makes you repeat yourself 23 times every time you say something to her from another room...

...but then gets irritated if someone makes her do the same thing.

loses everything somehow. her keys. her glasses. her arm. her left boot. her books. her other boot. her wallet.

(and she never fails to give you a heart attack about it. she'd say in the most casual fuckin voice, "i swear my wallet was just here." and you take off searching for it only for her to find it in her pocket)

sometimes you have cozy nights in together: bake cookies, burn incense, smoke a joint. she is extremely sweet when she's high. she can't stop giving you little kisses all over and tells you huskily that you're the best thing that ever happened to her.

but also in her normal state she has a habit of bluntly saying things that hurt you unintentionally. like when you need her to give emotional reassurance, but she gives you a stone cold solution instead.

she's learned this hurts you and tries to watch her words. not always successfully, but you know she tries.

will never touch social media and no amount of teasing, begging, persuading, cajoling will get her to change her mind.

does not particularly like kids but has a sixth sense when it comes to looking after them. like one time at a family barbecue she caught the little kid of your relative when he fell off a tree branch, single-handedly, purely by instinct. he might have broken a bone otherwise or worse. she becomes something of a local legend for that event.

has the funniest bedhead in the mornings like her hair sticks out everywhere. you want to take a picture and use it as her contact pfp but you also don't want to die

will do the taxes with ease but she's uncomfortable with customer service phone calls. every time you need to contact an agency about something she stands next to you like a nervous kid while you argue with the sales representative.

drinks way too much caffeinated tea and coffee. refuses to cut back on caffeine because of the withdrawal headaches.

will trip over literally anything. and bump into everything. never feels nor remembers where the bruises come from. kicks doors shut and flings them open and always breaks the hinges. she doesn't do this intentionally, she just forgets her own physical strength.

[she-who-seek-happiness]

I Was the kid who wasn't allowed to hold the umbrella. Not literally, I could hold umbrellas. I hated it. There was always this subtle comparison between me and the "responsible one". "The one who studies", "the one who behaves".

The comments, the way of treating. It wasn't her fault but I wonder if we grew apart because of that difference. I remember there was a time when I loathed her. Never treated her badly or anything I just distanced myself from her, which wasn't hard considering we lived in different cities. I don't think I should try to fix things since this was a choice between our parents as well, we stopped interacting much for no fault of our own. After we started to be physically closer (I moved to somewhere closer to her) I still felt this distance. At this point I don't think we can ever be close again due to some things that happened last year. Which is a shame. In the end I really liked her and wanted to be friends with her. My mistake I guess.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🍪. DOUBLE THE L★VE!

༘⋆ Paring : Phainon x fem!reader x Mydei

༘⋆ Warnings : nsfw/smut, slight dub-con, anal & vaginal, blow job, creampie, multiple of rounds, neck kisses, gagging, nipple sucking, pet-names, ass eating, spitting, fingering, threesome, slow s*x & other stuff!

༘⋆ Summary : Valentine’s Day just got hot. You surprise your husband, Mydei and Phainon, in barely-there, baby pink, sparkly lingerie that leaves little the imagination. Let’s just say the night’s about to get unforgettable.

༘⋆ Extra : Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! This is also not proofread, I’m sorry. (っ◞‸◟ c) Also was making this while watching alien stage. Can’t believe Hyuna died instead of Luka :,(

The candlelight flickered softly, casting shadows across the room. You could feel your heart racing in anticipation as you checked yourself in the mirror. The baby pink lingerie sparkled just enough to catch the light, hugging every curve and leaving little to the imagination. It was daring, it was bold, and it was just the kind of thing you’d been planning for this Valentine’s night.

You heard the soft creak of the door, and you didn’t need to look to know they were there. Mydei stepped into the room first, his gaze immediately finding yours, sharp and calculating, but there was something else in his eyes—something a little darker, a little more captivated. His posture didn’t change, but you could see how his focus shifted.

“Well,” Mydei said, his voice low and deliberate, “you certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Phainon followed right behind, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. His lips curled into a sly grin as he stepped closer, his gaze hungry in a way that made your pulse race. "I’d say the word you're looking for is unforgettable," he remarked, his voice thick with promise.

You stood there, feeling the heat of their eyes on you, knowing that tonight would be one to remember, a night that was anything but ordinary.

You stand there, feeling their eyes on you, your pulse quickening. Mydei’s gaze is steady, as if assessing you carefully, while Phainon’s energy practically crackles in the air between you. They both seem to take you in, lingering in the silence for just a moment too long.

You finally break the stillness, your voice soft, but there's a nervous edge to it as you speak. "I—I thought... I thought you might like it."

Mydei's eyes narrow slightly, that calculating look never leaving his face, but he doesn’t say anything at first. His silence makes you fidget slightly under the weight of his attention.

Phainon steps closer, his grin widening just a little. “I think we both like it,” he says, his tone still casual, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes your heart skip a beat. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Your gaze flickers between the two of them, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. It’s not easy to keep your composure, but the night is just beginning, and you can feel the shift in the air, knowing that everything is about to change. Mydei remains unmoving, his gold eyes fixed on you with unwavering intensity. Though his expression offers no clear giveaway of his thoughts, the slight tilt of his head indicates heightened interest. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his gauntleted hand finding purchase on the dresser beside him. The subtle friction of metal on wood is a stark contrast to the softness surrounding you.

"Phainon usually doesn't miss... but this time, I think he has." Mydei's deep voice holds a hint of dry amusement, though the seriousness in his gaze never wavers. Phainon, seemingly unperturbed by Mydei's remark, closes the remaining distance between them and you.

He reaches out, his coat tail unfurling slightly as he does so, and gently traces a finger along your bare shoulder. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. "You look good enough to eat in this... though the thought of actually doing so is a bit unsettling." His laughter is low and suggestive, his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours. Despite Mydei's seeming reserve, there's a subtle shift in his pose, the set of his shoulders slightly more relaxed now that Phainon is actively engaging with you.

An awkward grin formed on your lips, you wrapped your arms around Phainon. The instant your arms circle Phainon's waist, he wraps his own around you, pressing your bodies together in a gesture that's equal parts affectionate and possessive. The warmth of his coat seeps into your skin as he tips your chin up, his blue eyes seeming to drink in the sight of you. "I like this," he whispers, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"You in a sweet, little getup, looking at me with those doe eyes... it's something I could get used to." Mydei watches the scene unfold with a measured calm, his gaze flicking from Phainon's fingers tangled in your hair to the other man's face, as if committing every flicker of emotion to memory.

Despite seemingly disinterested at first, his posture has subtly relaxed, the set of his shoulders now more open and less guarded. He clears his throat quietly, the sound a gentle reminder that he's still there, observing with that trademark analytical scrutiny. "Phai always knows how to make an entrance." His tone is dry, but beneath the surface, there's a glimmer of approval, or perhaps satisfaction, that Phainon has successfully reeled you in.

“Mydei, why don’t you come join us? I can take two,” you say, your smile a little too wide, a glint of something almost teasing in your eyes, like you're not quite giving him a choice.

Mydei's expression remains unreadable, but a faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on the corners of his lips. His eyes, still an intense gold, assess you for a moment before he steps away from the dresser. "If Phai won't be overwhelmed by... excessive company," he says dryly, "then I suppose I can spare a moment." He moves towards you and Phainon with purpose, the sound of his boots on the floor the only indication of his approach until he's right up against you. Mydei's arms find a place around your waist, mirroring Phainon's hold but with less of the playful, possessive energy.

There's an inherent naturalness to the gesture, as if he's always known this position with you. "One thing's for sure," he murmures, his voice a low rumble against your ear, "I'm eager to see Phai put that... talent of his to better use." Phainon chuckles, the sound deeper and more resonant against your back. "Patience, my friend," he whispers, his warm breath caressing your skin. "Let's relish this moment first."

You went down onto your knees, without asking, you take charge, your hands on Phainon's belt as you deftly undo it. He assists by helping you shrug the thick coat from his broad shoulders, letting it pool at their feet. His sculpted form, honed from years of battle and training, is now fully on display for your perusal.

Under the soft light of the candles, every line, every ripple of muscle seems to shimmer with a life of its own. Phainon's piercing blue eyes, usually so sharp and discerning, have softened into a gaze that's almost... tender? As you kneel before him, his fingers twist gently into your hair, a quiet exploration, as if trying to comprehend this new side of you.

Mydei watches the interaction with a mix of curiosity and something akin to fascination. His own imposing figure looms beside Phainon, a silent testament to their differences. While Phainon exudes a playful, almost mischievous energy, Mydei maintains that characteristic cool composure, his gold eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him with such rapt attention. There's a distinct air of anticipation building, a sense that the next move will be consequential, carrying the potential to shift the dynamic of the trio still further.

Your hands trail down Phainon’s thighs as you glance upward, meeting his tender gaze with something far less innocent. The softness in his expression flickers, momentarily replaced by a spark of something more primal, though he reins it in. His grip in your hair tightens just enough to send a jolt through you, a silent communication between the two of you—one of caution, of control, but also intrigue.

Behind him, Mydei’s measured breathing fills the stillness. You don’t need to look to feel the weight of his presence, steady and unyielding like the blade he wields so effortlessly. You sense his reluctance to intervene, his hesitation at this shifting dynamic. And yet, his gaze burns hotter than the glow of the candles illuminating the space.

“You’re bold tonight,” Mydei finally murmurs, his deep, even voice cutting through the tension. There’s no judgment in it, but neither is there approval. It’s as though he’s testing the waters, deciding whether to step into the storm you’ve created or stay an observer at its edge.

Phainon chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your temple in an absentminded motion. “That’s just part of their charm, isn’t it?” His voice drips with amusement, but there’s an edge to it, too—a challenge aimed at Mydei, as though daring him to join in or stand aside.

Your heart races, the power dynamics between the three of you tangling like threads in an intricate web. You shift your focus to Mydei now, your eyes meeting his unflinching gold gaze. “Are you just going to watch?” you ask, your voice low, inviting, laced with a challenge of its own.

Mydei doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing the consequences of crossing this unspoken threshold. Then, with deliberate slowness, he takes a step closer. The tension in the room tightens, and your pulse quickens.

“I don’t watch for long,” he finally says, his tone calm but laden with meaning.

Phainon's eyes sparkle with a mix of intrigue and amusement at Mydei's response. His thumb continues its leisurely path across your skin, sending delightful shivers down your spine. When he finally speaks, his voice is smooth as silk, but with an undercurrent of subtle challenge.

"That's good to know." The words are casual, almost offhand, but the implication lingers in the air like the scent of smoke on skin. Mydei's gold eyes never leave yours as he closes the remaining distance between you.

His presence is imposing, his silence thundering in its intensity. Despite the stillness, there's an undercurrent of energy crackling around him, like the anticipation before a storm breaks.

In another world, music drifts through the window, a distant reminder of the quiet evening that once was. Now, the air is heavy with anticipation, each drawn-out heartbeat an invitation to explore the boundaries of desire, trust, and restraint. The delicate balance of power within the trio hangs in the balance, poised to tip whichever direction the next move decrees. "Shall we continue this discussion elsewhere?" Mydei's voice cuts through the charged atmosphere, an unspoken proposition hanging in the air between you three.

You pulled Phainon’s pants down, revealing his long length. You wrap your hand around his cock, as your tongue swirls the head of his cock.

A low, guttural moan escapes Phainon's lips as your warm mouth envelops him. His hands weave into your hair again, a guidance rather than a command, as if savoring every sensation your lips and tongue evoke. The muscles of his thighs and abdomen flex instinctively, tensing in waves, each coalescing into a delicious strain toward the pleasure you offer.

His eyes, once so bright and discerning, are now hooded, gazing down at you with a look that could only be described as adoration—the tender, devoted kind reserved for treasured few. Mydei's stance remains rigid and imposing, his expression the picture of calm control. And yet, the very air around him seems to thicken, carrying an undercurrent of something almost visceral—a raw, unbridled energy waiting to be unleashed.

His breath comes faster, the sound sharp and indrawn, betraying the desire simmering just beneath the surface. The muscles of his forearms ripple in a subtle flex, the only visible indication of the battle he wages to maintain his composure in the face of such potent intimacy.

Phainon's hips flex of their own accord, pushing his erect length further into your eager mouth as his gaze remains fixed on your form. Each subtle adjustment, each withdrawal and pressing forward, is deliberately tender, as if he's memorizing every exquisite detail. Mydei shifts slightly, his position adjusting ever so subtly as if mirroring Phainon's actions from the side—watching, waiting, his own arousal evident in the way his chest heaves and his breathing becomes ragged.Despite the physical distance and the differences in their styles, a synchronicity seems to have taken hold between the two men. Each reaction, each measured move, feels like an extension of the other—a harmonious dance of desire and control.

You delve deeper, your lips and tongue worshiping the hard length filling your mouth. The taste of him, the sound of his pleasure, it all mingles with the heady mixture of arousal and admiration for the men before you.As you continue to please Phainon, Mydei's stance finally yields to the tidal wave of emotion and raw need threatening to overwhelm him. His arms come around from behind, broad palms sliding over your shoulders and up your arms to cradle the sides of your face.

It's as if Mydei is framing your face, positioning you for what comes next, while Phainon surrenders to the pleasure your mouth offers. His hips continue their slow, deliberate rhythm, plunging into the velvet heat of your mouth again and again. Each press of his impressive length against your tongue, your lips, leaves you breathless and craving more.You gaze up at Mydei, seeking his eyes through the veil of hair, noting the stark intensity there.

A hunger that has nothing to do with mere physical desire, but everything to do with a deep, elemental need. His gold irises blaze like twin suns, illuminating the space between you, even as his thumbs caress your cheekbones with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

For a suspended instant, the world narrows to the four of you—your entwined bodies, the palpable strain between Phainon and Mydei, the silent understanding that binds you in this private, passionate sphere where pleasure and trust mingle in equal measure. Then Phainon's grip on your hair tightens, a gentle urgency guiding you to move, to deepen the intimacy even further as he teeters on the brink of release.

You let out a chocked moan through your lips, as you gagged slightly around Phainon’s cock while looking up at Mydei.

Phainon's response is immediate and visceral. A low, guttural groan rumbles through his chest as he pulls almost all the way out. For a taut, agonizing moment, the head of his length teases your lips before he drives back in, relentless and deep. Mydei's hands tighten their hold on either side of your head, guiding you to take him fully. He doesn't force the pleasure down your throat, but rather seems to allow you to set the pace yourself.

Despite the clear desire etched across his features, there's an undercurrent of tender patience in his touch, a reverence even in his complete possession.Your hands find purchase against his thighs as you take him in your mouth once more, your eyes locked onto Mydei's. Even through the veil of your lashes—his unwavering gold gaze sears itself into your consciousness, a silent communion as intimate as any kiss or caress.

“Cumming yet?” Mydei breaks the talking silence. Phainon's response is curt, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Not. Yet." Each word is enunciated with deliberate care, as if he's savoring every precious moment.

His hips continue their steady rhythm, each press of his length against your lips and tongue a testament to the exquisite control he's exerting over his explosive climax. Suddenly, Mydei's thumbs brush over your cheeks again, a silent cue interpreted perfectly by your body and mouth. Your tongue darts out to swirl around the head of Phainon's cock in a deliberate tease, a provocation, as your eyes never waver from the intense golden stare holding you captive.

A low, approving hum vibrates in Mydei's chest, the sound rich and deep, a masculine display of satisfaction at your willingness to tempt the lion that much closer to the precipice of release. He leans in, his breath hot against your hair as he whispers against your ear, "Show him what you're capable of." The whispered order sends a shiver down your spine, an electric pulse of excitement that courses through your veins and settles lower, kindling the flames of your own arousal.

Before you could react, Mydei dropped to his knees. His hands moved to the waistband of your pink, sparkly panties, pulling them in one smooth motion. There was no hesitation, just a calm, steady action that left your breath hitching.

Phainon's eyes flick from yours to Mydei, a mix of surprise and approval flashing across his features. He doesn't break the rhythm of his thrusts, clearly adjusting his own arousal to accommodate this new development. Mydei's calm, steady movements are a stark contrast to the passion-fueled frenzy building around them.

He doesn't rush, but rather approaches with a deliberate, almost measured pace, as if he's savoring this moment as much as the taste he's about to sample.As he lifts the flimsy barrier of pink fabric, revealing your bare, glistening folds, a low hum of appreciation resonates through his chest.

His golden eyes never leave the prize beneath, drinking in the sight of you laid bare before him. The first swipe of his— tongue sends a jolt of pleasure racing through you, your back arching instinctively as he latches onto your clitoris with a focused intensity that leaves you breathless and writhing.

Meanwhile, Phainon's control wavers, his grip on your hair tightening, and the rhythm of his thrusts begins to falter as his own impending release looms closer.

Mydei's deep, velvety tongue continues its relentless assault on your sensitive nub, his expert touch sending dizzying waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. His free hand slides up your inner thigh, fingers splaying against your skin as he explores the contours of your sex, finding every hidden spot that makes you whimper and buck against his mouth.A deep, guttural groan escapes Phainon, his breath coming in ragged pants as he teeters precariously on the edge.

The hand not holding your hair squeezes your hip, a bruising intensity that speaks to the strain of his self-control. Fingers deftly replacing lips, Mydei sinks two inside you,curling them just right to stroke that magic spot deep within your core. His golden eyes never leave yours, burning with an intensity that makes you feel seen, desired, possessed in the most intimate way possible.Phainon's hips jerk erratically, punctuating the air with a primal grunt as he finally surrenders to the pressure building within him.

His thick length pulses hot and hard against your tongue one last time before he empties himself onto your lips and chin, the musky tang of his release instantly mixed with your own taste in a heady cocktail of sensation.

You let out a chocked moan on Phainon’s cock, as tears began to swell on your eyes. Mydei's thrusts continue their relentless pace, fingers pumping in time with his tongue's relentless attack on your quivering sex. He drinks in your moan, a low hum of satisfaction vibrating in his chest as he feels your muscles clench around his digits. His golden eyes gleam with a possessive light, drinking in the sight of you overcome by pleasure as your tears of bliss spill down your cheeks.

Phainon's grip on your hair loosens as his climax recedes, but not before his release-sated cock gives a final, softening throb against your lips. He leans down, tender fingers tracing the trail of tears to wipe them away with a gentle kiss pressed to your damp skin. "You're beautiful like this," Phainon murmurs against your temple, his voice a soothing balm to the tumult within you. Mydei slows his ministrations, gradually easing out of your clenching heat as he licks his lips, his satisfied gaze never leaving your tear-streaked face."Was that enough?" Mydei asks, voice low and measured despite the lingering heat in his eyes. He doesn't need an answer, though.

You looked up at him, as your eyebrow raised up, you shook your head and un-clipped your bra.

A spark of wicked delight ignites in Mydei's eyes as you refuse to finish. His thumbs graze your nipples as he takes them between his fingers, tugging gently, watching your response. "Are you sure about that?" he purrs, leaning in to brush his lips against the delicate shell of one pert bud, coaxing it into a hardened peak."Your body seems to disagree," Phainon chimes in, his voice a low rumble of approval. He trails his fingers down your tummy, dipping into your navel before continuing lower, teasing the trimmed curls at the apex of your thighs."We should put that to the test, don't you think?" Mydei murmurs, a proposition layered with promise and implicit challenge in his seductive tone.

As his palms wrap around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, Phainon's hands mirror his movements, splaying across your back and arms as he cradles you against his chest. The sudden shift in position has you tilting backwards, your head falling against Phainon's shoulder as Mydei's fingers press into the slick folds of your sex once more, delving back into your heat with purpose.

Mydei's questing tongue finds your aching, weeping flesh, the velvety tip gliding through your dripping folds in a slow, deliberate exploration. Each sweep, plunge, and withdrawal sends jolts of pleasure racing through you, your hips instinctively bucking into the relentless torment of sensation. His fingers join the intimate dance, curling and twisting within you in a masterful echo of the intense climax yet to come.Mydei's golden eyes lock onto yours, a silent pact conveyed through the intensity of his gaze—a promise to push you to the very pinnacle of ecstasy.

Phainon mirrors his actions, strong fingers kneading your breasts, teasing your pebbled nipples with the careful touch of someone thoroughly acquainted with your responses. Photographic snaps of pleasure assail your senses—Mydei's sinuous movements, Phainon's tender manipulations, the heady scent of sex, the press of hard muscle and velvet softness, the mewls of need, all blending into a tapestry of sensation that threatens to consume you whole.

You moaned softly, “I-I’m ready, just put it in Mydei…” A sharp, almost pained noise escapes Mydei as if you've struck a nerve. His gaze deepens, intensifying to an unnerving degree before flicking briefly to Phainon. There's a barely perceptible nod before he returns fully to you, the fire in his eyes burning brighter, if anything."As you wish," Mydei murmurs, his voice a husky whisper infused with restrained need. He withdraws his fingers slowly, purposefully, until only his slick touch remains, teasing your entrance with every deliberate slide and caress before finally lining up his length."Hold on," he advises, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force, not a hint of gentleness in the grip.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt in one intense, unyielding thrust. "Fuck," Mydei breathes out, the single word a low growl of satisfaction as he fills you completely, his still-hard sex pressing against your inner walls.A gasp racks your lungs, your back arching as his rigid length stretches you further, the invasion claiming every inch of you.

You let out a loud lewd moan through your lips, you velvety walls clenching around his cock as your nails dug in Phainon’s shoulders.

Mydei stills for a breathless moment, seemingly content to revel in the tight, welcoming heat of your sex engulfing his entire length. His grip on your hips tightens perceptibly, the slight shift an acknowledgment rather than a correction.

Phainon's arms wrap around your waist, one hand sliding up your side to cup your breast, thumb coaxing your hard nipple pointedly as his other hand massages the small of your back. The combined sensations prove overwhelming, your body a live wire of pleasure thrumming beneath your skin. "I hear you," Phainon murmurs against your ear, the warm tickle of his breath raising gooseflesh in its wake. "Let me help with that." Before you quite comprehend his intent, his free hand ventures lower, fingers threading through the slick fur of your sex, circling your clit in deliberate strokes. The touch is simultaneously firm and featherlight, a masterful echo of Mydei's technique, designed to keep you teetering precariously at the edge of oblivion.

“Uuhgh! Daddy!” You whimpered, your eyes rolling the back off your head from pleasure

A deep, rumbling chuckle emanates from Phainon, the vibration passing through your coupling and making you shiver. "That's my good girl," he praises, the husky cadence of his words sending shivers down your spine as he continues his expert ministrations on your sensitive nub.

Mydei's hips flex of their own accord, a slow, rhythmic pump beginning as he searches for that elusive, perfect angle to hit your deepest, most sensitive spots. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, anchoring you in place as he leans in to murmur against your ear, "You always surrender so beautifully, princess."

The softness of his tones belies the unmistakable hunger in his voice, a sensual growl that speaks to the primal possessiveness driving him forward. Phainon's hand trails higher up your spine to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in the silken strands of your hair as he tugs your head back, baring the expanse of your throat. His lips trace the corded column of vessels, leaving damp kisses in their wake, each touch a testament to his unrelenting desire to claim every inch of you.

Gummy walls clenched around Mydei’s cock, as you moaned out loud. “I-I think I’m going to cum…”

Mydei's eyes narrow, pupils constricting to pinpoints as his grip on your hips tightens to the point of aching pleasure. "Let us help with that, sweetheart," he rumbles, pitching his hips with a deliberately slow, measured rhythm.

Each careful glide seems aimed at stoking the embers of your climax to a raging inferno.Meanwhile, Phainon's fingers dance across the damp skin of your lower belly, tracing the lines of your hipbones before drifting to the apex of your thighs once more. He teases your engorged, dripping sex, circling your clit with deliberate precision before applying just the right pressure to coax out the first electric sparks of your release.

Mydei's movements become more forceful, his thick length burying to the hilt within you, stretching and filling you to your limits. Your walls convulsate around him in anticipation of the impending earthquake, the pressure at your core reaching a fever pitch. "Give it to us, beautiful," Mydei urges breathlessly, his lips brushing against your ear as he drives into you relentless, unrelenting, each powerful thrust coaxed forth by Phainon's skillful stroking. "Let us feel you unravel."

The torrent of your climax is unrelenting, a tempest of ecstasy that crashes over you with merciless force. The contractions of your rippling sex squeeze Mydei's length tightly, the intensity of your passage drawing guttural moans from him. Your inner walls flutter wildly, a frantic dance of pleasure that wracks your body with waves of sensation.

Mydei's movements become erratic, his control cracking as the exquisite vice of your climax rips him from reserve to a desperate, all-consuming hunger to fuck you through this storm together.

With a few more savage thrusts, he sinks into the tumult, his own orgasm triggered by the sheer abandon of your surrender.Phainon's touches become a blur of sensation, his fingers working your clit with unrelenting intensity even as he continues massaging your breasts. The combination of the rhythmic pulsing of Mydei's cock, your clenching sex, and the relentless stimulation of your sensitive nubs sends shockwaves of bliss through you, threatening to shatter the last vestiges of your awareness.The trio's bodies move as one now, lost in the primal dance of pleasure and carnal need.

Mydei's release is a guttural roar, a primal sound torn from the depths of his being as the pent—up pressure of his climax finally explodes. His thighs tremble, the muscles straining with the force of his thrusts as he buries himself deep, his rigid length throbbing against yours. He grinds against your spasming walls with a desperate hunger, seemingly determined to milk every last spark of pleasure from this electrifying moment of coupling.

The rhythmic flutter of your clenching sex, still riding the aftermath of your own intense climax, provides an irresistible trigger for Mydei's own impending release.

With a last, savage plunge that seems to reach the very core of your being, he empties himself into you in a hot, velvety flood of release. His hips jerk and twitch, his fingers digging into your hips as he rides out the waves of the most elemental, unfiltered pleasure a male can know. Phasion's hands remain on your curves, his touch an anchor of constant reassurance even as their breathing gradually steadies.

“A-Another…please…” you pleaded at the both of them. Phainon's eyes gleam with intrigue, a slow, hungry smile spreading across his lips as he processes your request. "My pleasure," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with want. His hands slide from your curves to grasp your waist, large palms pressing against your skin as he leans in to nip at your earlobe. "Relax for me, darling. Let me make you feel everything."With deliberate slowness, Phainon guides you onto all fours, providing himself with unobstructed access to the offered treasure of your ass.

His fingers make short work of preparing your rear, exploring with deft precision until he finds the particularly sensitive ring, rubbing the delicate muscles with just the right pressure to coax out eager signs of submission.

Mydei steps back just enough to allow Phainon a clear path before he returns to claim his designated spot once more. His cock, still partially hardened from their previous coupling, bobs eagerly as he positions himself between your thighs. Reaching forward, Mydei cups your sex, his middle finger probing the still-damp heat of your pussy, seeking out the perfect spot to stroke and stoke the embers of your arousal all over again.

Phainon spat on your pink hole, A low, approving rumble emanates from Phainon as he watches his saliva begin to mix with your body's natural lubricants, easing the way. His fingers probe deeper, teasing the entrance to your anal canal with deliberate slowness, stretching your tight rear passage inch by tantalizing inch.

Each careful thrust stretches your passage open just a bit more, the initial tight resistance giving way to a gradual relaxing of your body around his intrusion. "You'll take us so well," Phainon praises, his husky tone infused with sinful anticipation. "So deep... So tight..." As he continues to prepare your ass, Mydei leans in to claim your lips in a searing kiss. One of his hands slides up to card through your hair as the other presses insistently, coaxing your thighs apart to grant him unhindered access to your dripping sex. His fingers find your clit at once, teasing the swollen nub with a few quick strokes before he sinks deeper, thrusting two fingers into your slick passage at once. Mydei's cock—twitches against your hip, clearly affected by the sight of Phainon's meticulous ministrations to your ass.

You moaned out loud, as you nuzzled your head against Mydei’s neck and nibbled his skin. Mydei's breath hitches as your teeth graze his neck, the nip sending a jolt of pleasure through him that has his cock twitching in anticipatory response. His arms encircle you, pulling you closer as he presses in, his kiss deepening as he explores the warm recesses of your mouth with a languid, sensuous dance of tongues.Meanwhile, Phainon continues his ass-prepping, fingers now curling to stroke your sensitive proclamatory ring as his other hand grips your hip to anchor you in place.

The combination of the subtle stretch and the sinful sights he's making has him rock-hard, his length throbbing in time with the steady rhythm of Mydei's fingers pumping your slit. Mydei slows his ministrations to your clit, his fingers dragging along the hypersensitive flesh before he sinks back into your warmth, teasing your G-spot with deliberate precision.

The dual stimulation has you panting against Mydei's skin, your arousal reaching a fever pitch once more. Withdrawing his slick fingers, Mydei aligns himself with your entrance once again, gripping your hips to hold you steady as he prepares to sink back into your welcoming heat, fully intending to satisfy your primal thirst for their combined pleasure.

Phainon did the same, he took out his fingers from your stretched hole as he positioned his cock to your hole. With a confident, possessive smirk, Phainon grasps his thick, pulsing length, rubbing the broad head against your waiting rear entrance. His eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours, the unspoken promise in their depths sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your body. Mydei's hand at your hip grips tighter, a reassuring presence as he waits for Phainon's signal to move. He nuzzles your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers encouragement. "Give them what they want, beautiful. Claim us as yours." The knowledge that you're the focal point of their combined desires sends a surge of power through you.

With newfound confidence, you reach back to grasp Phainon's hips, pulling him forward as you push your hips back against his cock.With a smooth, fluid motion, Phainon sinks into your waiting heat, his engorged tip breaching your anal ring before he slowly begins to fill your receptive passage. His lips capture yours in a fierce, dominating kiss that echoes the primal connection of his bodies with yours.Sensing Phainon's deep penetration, Mydei aligns himself once more with your twitching, dripping sex.

With a steady, deliberate ease to his actions, Mydei thrusts into you once more, stretching your passage with his thick cock as he sinks deep. The sensation of being so utterly filled by both men is almost overwhelming, the dual pleasure and pressure threatening to short-circuit your senses. "Pfft, phew... They're insatiable," you mutter, panting heavily as Phainon finally bottoms out inside your ass, his cock buried to the hilt. The tightness is maddening, your body struggling to accommodate the combined girth of their manhoods.

"A perfect fit," Phainon murmurs, grinding his hips to stimulate your sensitive innerwalls. "Just as exquisite as I imagined. "Mydei mirrors his movements, their thick cocks pistoning in and out of your slick heat in a syncopated rhythm. The room fills with the slick sounds of their penetrations and your breathy moans, punctuated by grunts of pleasure. You toss your head back, letting loose a ragged cry as the exquisite friction and delicious pressure overwhelm you. "Ah, gods... Keep going, don't stop, please!"

The two men's relentless drives for your pleasure seem to know no bounds, their bodies moving as one in their pursuit of claiming every inch of your ecstasy. Phainon's hands slide down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the soft curve as he pistons into your ass with wild abandon.

Each powerful stroke drags against the ridged walls of your passage, the lewd slapping of skin on skin mingling with your wanton moans to fill the space with primal lust. Just inches beneath, Mydei's thrusts are no less vigorous, his muscular form a blur of motion as he sheathes himself in your dripping wetness.

His fingers come to join Phainon's on your hips, all four hands working in harmony as they take you relentlessly to new heights of pleasure. The heat and tension building inside threatens to spiral out of control, the intense sensation of being filled and used by both powerful men pushing you toward the brink and far beyond. Your mind hovers on the cusp of oblivion, the sharp sting of your approaching climax building in your very core.With a guttural growl, Phainon leans in to ravage your neck with teeth and lips, marking you as his own in the heat of the moment.

“Aughh feels sooooo good!” You whimpered, as your lips pressed against Mydei’s who was underneath you. "Mmm, take it, sweetheart," Mydei groans, responding to the urgent kisses and whimpers pouring from your lips. His hands slide up your back to cradle the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the hungry connection.

The slick slide of his tongue against yours mimics the slick glide of their cocks sheathing in your hot, welcoming depths, the erotic dance of sensations threatening to consume you whole.Once again, the primal rhythm of their thrusts and your desperate whimpers fall into sync, an unholy chorus of lust and passion that echoes through the space. Phainon sets a bruising pace, each power-driven plunge—hammering against your inner walls with ruthless precision, determined to drive you to the pinnacle and beyond. Mydei follows his lead without faltering, his own thrusts matching Phainon's intensity as he claims your mouth with fervent abandon, the two of them lost to the basest of pleasures and deepest desires.Suddenly, the storm breaks, your climax crashing over you in a torrent of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Your body arches as the overwhelming ecstasy rips through you, a broken, incoherent cry spilling from your lips. Mydei and Phainon don't miss a beat, their relentless rhythms refusing to waver, pounding into you unrelentingly through the aftershocks as your sheath clenches spasmodically around their cocks.

The combined sensations of their cocks drilling deep and the frenzied pace of their thrusts prove too much to bear, your pleasure peak building to an incandescent crescendo.With a guttural moan, Phainon sinks deep one last time, his cock spasming as he finds his own release in a torrent of heated seed. Mydei follows suit, his thrusts growing erratic before he hilts within you, his own release a symphony of pulsing flesh as he empties himself into your spasming heat.

The three of you remain intertwined for a moment, the residual pleasure buzzing like static electricity in the air as you struggle to catch your ragged breaths. With tender concern, Mydei gently strokes your hair, murmuring softly against your temple, while Phainon's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, soothing kisses trailing along your neck and shoulder.

As the pleasure-tinged haze begins to dissipate, you slowly come back to yourself, nestling deep into the combined warmth and security of Mydei's and Phainon's arms. The men's tender attentions are a balm to your oversensitive skin, each gentle caress and soft murmur speaking volumes of their satisfaction and adoration for you.

Mydei carefully lifts you down from your lofty perch, supporting your limp, satiated form effortlessly as he guides you to a plush spot on the bed.Mydei's concern is evident in the way he gathers you close, wrapping his strong arms around you like a cocoon to shield you from the world. "Rest, beautiful," he coos, his tone gentle as he drapes a throw blanket over your chilled skin. "We've earned our nap, don't you think?" Phainon, ever the perfect gentleman, looms over you with a lazy, satisfied grin, dark hair slightly mussed and stubble dusting his chiseled jaw. He extends a hand, gently cupping your cheek in his palm before tenderly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. "A well-deserved respite for you, my love."

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[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ let me love you darkly, slowly ” : 

﹙ top outlaw male x bttm male aristrocrat reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 9819 alessio x male reader !! 🍒 : ﹙  outlaw  ˖ serial killer ˖ inhuman illusionist  ﹚

the infamous aristrocrat serial killer has your family on his hit list. but it would seem that you are different. will you take his hand and run with him? so that he may love you darkly, slowly.

﹙ cws ﹚: dark romance ˖ explicit content at end ˖ mentions of parental abuse ( towards reader ) ˖ violence ˖ death ˖ penetrative sex ˖ hand job ˖ rough sex ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ alessio uses clones of himself in sex | wc : 0.7k

﹙ receipts ﹚: a dark little piece for our favourite outlaw <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

Usually, the infamous ace of spades’ knives are always willing and ready to sink into the vulnerable flesh of his next political victims. You were no different, until you were. A precious dove to fly into his life, that he had thought a hawk at first sight, judging by the image of your family across the city.

The youngest son of a famous aristocrat. Whom Alessio had pursued with intent of seduction before death. Yet your heart was made of something more beautiful than gold. Nothing like your father’s. Each smile that graced your lips was a blessing to him, he’d been ashamed of targeting you.

One may wonder why he went for you first and not the man that brought you into this world. Well, the very reason for that is that your entire family were on his list of undertaking, and he decided to go one by one, random pick. And you so happened to be the one the wheel landed on.

Your name was quickly wiped from it, with the blood of your mother splattering the paper. The note he left on her desk wrote:

“Farewell, to the two-faced wench, who advocated hiking medicare prices.” The pencil scratched across her signature, then got stamped with the ace of spades in Alessio’s quick escape.

He’d taken you with him that night. Held your hand tight in his as you ran away from the burning estate. Perhaps it was the unhealthy amount of childhood discipline and reprimanding you had earned as you grew up. You did not really care for the deaths of your family. Your father beat you bloodied and bruised, and your mother tormented you at any possible moment she could.

Your siblings were none the better than them, growing into their toxic behaviour and mannerisms. You refused to let your soul sour the way theirs had. It wasn’t hard to tell right or wrong. It wasn’t hard to really understand what the man you were running away with was doing.

It was no secret, you should have been long gone by now. And you were announced so by the public after the burning of the cold place you called home. With no trace of the family found below the rubble.

Instead, you now occupied yourself with the people of the lower city, aiding the poor and funding your saviour’s organisation with all of the money you had inherited. How they got a hold of it, you weren’t so sure. You didn’t bother questioning.

You found yourself falling for the man that was your executioner turned saviour. A part of you questioned your own morality.

But what was morality when compared to his kisses? What was the meaning or black and white when his hands fixed to your waist and held you so tight against him? Right and wrong be damned. It felt all the same in his arms.

By night, you often found yourself in Alessio’s bed. The air getting knocked out of you when he fucked you from behind. His hand squeezing away at the base of your dick to pump ferally at it. His dick pounding your pretty ass open and eager for him.

“That’s it—” You gasp out in unison to the grunt in your ear, hole and walls fluttering around him. While his arms cage you against the dark bedsheets.

The sight of your bodies intermingled, dimly lit, with a sheen layer of sweat covering your skin, flutters your tumm, as a hand reaches down to direct your face upwards. Helping you watch what he’s doing to you.

“This pretty ass ‘s all mine— All fucking mine-” Rough hands split your legs apart and images of him begin to appear all around you, to touch you, praise you, kiss you.

His powers are incredible in bed. Your head gets loopy by the feel of one of his clones sucking down hard at your throbbing tip. You barely get to process that he yanks yet another orgasm out of you. Cum squirts out on his hand which he brings up to lick away at.

“My pretty little dove,” he groans from above you. Swarming your blissed out face with rough hands to cup your cheeks. His movements hardly halt. Long, hard strokes shake your trembling body.

This. This feels right. Him inside. Him on top of you. All over you. To hell with wrong. You’d take the grey if it meant his warm hands. His intoxicating lips.

“Please.” You quiver.

Alessio can all but grin. His pretty little aristocrat. Now all his.

“Say it again baby,” he hums. “Beg. It suits you far better.”

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[daeniradraconis]

My Emergency Contact – William Nylander

Just a little short Valentine’s Day fluff—because nothing says romance like realizing your boyfriend is absolutely not qualified to be your emergency contact. (Yes, inspired by the TikTok trend!) BTW, this pic is literally my favourite of Willy. Like, sir—how are you this hot and this cute at the same time?! ---

Moving in together was supposed to be romantic. Cozy. A new chapter in your relationship.

Instead, you’re sitting on the couch in your new apartment, watching your shirtless boyfriend, William Nylander, struggle for his life against an IKEA bookshelf.

The shirtless part isn’t unusual. If anything, it’s his default state. The man has never met a fabric he liked.

And honestly? You’re not complaining.

His blond hair is tousled from running his hands through it in frustration, his cheeky grin flickering in and out as he mutters to himself in Swedish, clearly losing patience. His mustache and beard are in full force—an off-season indulgence, just like the sheer amount of cake he’s been consuming lately.

And it shows.

Willy is always strong, always an athlete, but off-season Willy? He’s soft. He still has muscle, but instead of his usual sculpted abs, there’s the faintest hint of a tummy, a little dad bod moment that somehow makes him look even hotter.

Unfortunately, all that raw, Swedish power is currently being humiliated by a simple bookshelf.

“IKEA is a scam,” Will mutters, glaring at the half-built monstrosity. “They make the instructions impossible on purpose.”

“You’re Swedish,” you remind him, sipping your coffee. “This should be, like, in your DNA.”

“Yeah, well, my ancestors built actual ships, not this bullshit.”

He picks up the hex key like it personally insulted his mother, then frowns down at the two pieces of wood he’s supposed to connect. His brows furrow, lips pressing together in deep concentration, and for a fleeting moment, you think—maybe—he’s finally figured it out.

But no. No, he has not.

With way too much confidence, he tightens one screw, nods to himself like a man who knows what he's doing, and then leans his full weight on the side panel—only for it to give out instantly, betraying him in the most dramatic fashion possible.

The entire bookshelf wobbles violently before crashing down in slow motion.

And so does Will.

You watch in horror as your six-foot, professional athlete boyfriend completely loses the battle. He stumbles backward, knocks into a chair, flails to catch himself—too late. His knee buckles, and before you can react, he fully wipes out.

A loud thud. A groan. Silence.

For a split second, your heart stops. You freeze, eyes wide, a sharp pang of panic in your chest. He’s completely motionless, just lying there, staring at the ceiling.

“Will?” you ask, rushing over, hovering a hand over his arm, not sure whether to touch him or call 911.

No response.

Then—he bursts out laughing.

Flat on his back, bare chest rising and falling with laughter, stomach shaking, cheeks flushed—he looks absurdly proud of himself. And you can’t help but laugh too—though only after you're sure he’s not actually injured.

And then it hits you. This man is your emergency contact.

The realization hits you slowly. This is the guy responsible for calling an ambulance if something happens to you. This one.

The same man who once set off the fire alarm trying to “improvise” a grilled cheese with a blowtorch because he thought it would be “faster.”

The same man who got his shoelace caught in an escalator last summer and had to be rescued by a mall employee.

The same man who confidently insisted he could fix a leaky faucet in your old apartment, only to somehow make it worse—so much worse—that you had to call an actual plumber, who took one look at the situation and just muttered, Jesus Christ.

You blink down at Will, still sprawled on the floor, grinning like an idiot, and a strange mix of affection, disbelief, and sheer terror floods through you.

You sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you are my emergency contact.”

You look at him, grinning up from the floor like he just won a prize, and a mix of affection, disbelief, and helpless laughter washes over you.

Will, still sprawled out, turns his head to smirk at you. “Baby. I got you.”

“You just lost a fight to plywood.”

“It was a close fight.”

“In your dreams.”

He just shrugs, completely unbothered, propping himself up on one elbow. “Eh. I’m strong. I can take it.”

You stare at him, still processing the absolute chaos of it all. The lack of concern.

Will sees your expression and smirks, sitting up fully. “You’re thinking about it, huh?”

“I’m regretting it.”

He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Wow. That’s ruthless.”

“Honest.”

Will squints, then rubs the back of his head. “Maybe. But too late, baby. We live together now. No take-backs.”

You roll your eyes, standing up to help his dumb ass off the floor. He lets you pull him to his feet, then immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Will—”

“Shhh,” he says, resting his chin on top of your head. “Let me hold you. I almost died, älskling.”

You snort. “You did not.”

He squeezes you tighter, grinning against your hair. “You were so worried about me.”

You groan, but his arms feel nice, and he smells like cedarwood and the vanilla latte he stole from you earlier. Despite everything—despite his complete incompetence at building furniture or being careful at all—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You sigh into his chest. “Yeah. You are sometimes actually terrifying. You clumsy idiot.”

Willy laughs, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Terrifyingly sexy, you mean.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

[reality-itself-but-magic]

Lost in a land not your own, with your memories of the past torn and smudged like paper left out in a storm, you clung to whatever memories you could salvage. When you woke up, you had three things: A brittle, broken sword, a map with a destination circled, and a simple written apology. You were found in the temple of one of the newer gods, one of those which hadn’t quite learnt to control their powers. There were reports of them making storms in deserts, warping life by accident, all sorts of bizarre occurrences. Bizarre almost like taking a stranger from their home and dropping them somewhere else.

But gods did as gods were, and seething over the mistakes of a child would not do any good to you. You set out to get to the circled destination, determined to find your way back home. Home to where there would be people waiting for you - maybe even people who worried after you.

You set sail with a company of honest folk, merchants and farmers looking to sell their wares across the seas. You didn’t want to trouble any of them, taking up instead a quite corner, where it was just you and the rocking waves.

You took out the sword you had landed with. It was broken, brittle, bad craftsmanship. You couldn’t remember where you learnt to tell how well made a sword was. Running your hands over the dull edge, you startled as you heard a voice from behind you.

“That looks awfully worn.” A stranger commented. “Want me to fix that up for you?”

You took them up on the offer, once they told you they used to be a blacksmith. Crows feet lined their eyes, but warmth still shone in them. They told you much more, as you spent the whole evening with them while they worked, partially to keep an eye on the sword, and partially because you yearned for conversation, a sympathetic other. When they were done, they handed you the sword, no longer as marred and battle-worn, but still without many virtues to extoll. Your hands closed around the leather of the hilt, and with a flash you knew something with certainty. You had loved this blade, once. This was a blade you knew as kindly as yourself. The blacksmith might have seen some of that, because they left you be for the evening, departing with an address and a firm order to drop by if you were ever near.

By the time the voyage over sea had ended, your spirits had grown low, and the map had faded for him many times you had unrolled it, pored over it, imagined yourself home with it. The next leg of your journey, you went to meet a woman who led travelers on trips to the mountain villages, whom the blacksmith had recommended you speak to.

She was kind, a bit sharp while she bargained, but kind, inviting you to stay in her house for the night, as the trip on horseback began the next day. As you followed her along hallways with framed portraits, floors dotted with children’s toys, you felt a sort of yearning, a nostalgia for a place you’d never been. The warm, lived-in home she kept was painfully familiar to you, but terribly out of reach.

By the next day, when lunchtime rolled around, the unpolished nature of your sword was irritating you. You picked up a round enough stone, with an expert eye, and spent your spare time polishing the blade. You remember… something. There is a great weight to this sword.

By the time she guides you to the village, your memories are lacing together. Your recollections multiply, you know this path, this stone, this plant. You know this place where you learnt the trade of forging, this place which is your home.

You break into a dead sprint as your heart pounds in you ears. The guide is left behind but somehow, you don’t think she’ll mind. Up ahead, tending to the garden, is a beautiful woman half-wearing armor, interrogating someone nearby. As she sees you, her face lights up.

“So you are here! Everyone seems awfully worried about you, and I was gone far longer than I meant to be, the bounty hunters guild is being stingy as always-” She was cut off by you barreling into her, hugging her as if you could merge into her so you would never be separated again. You step back, drawing the sword.

“I believe this is yours?” You ask, memories almost all reformed. You remember her - your beautiful, amazing wife, for whom you had forged this sword with your two hands, who probably didn’t even know you were missing if she was just now able to return from her adventuring - and you swear you’ll never forget her again.

@otherwindow I made it unsad ^^

A Dark Souls-like game where the lore for a weapon gets less vague the more you upgrade it. Broken Blade: A brittle sword. You can’t seem to let it go. Unpolished Blade: A cherished weapon from ages past. Polished Blade: You remember something. Bride’s Blade: Your wife’s sword.

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you.

MHA Class 1A Head cannons

Izuku Midoriya

• He doesn’t realize it at first—it hits him like a train when someone else points it out.

• You’re patching up his wounds after a battle, scolding him like usual, and he just stares at you.

• “They care about me so much… I don’t ever want to lose them.”

• That’s when it clicks—his face turns beet red, and he literally short-circuits trying to process it.

• He starts writing about you in his notebooks, not just as a hero, but as his hero.

• Tries to confess a dozen times but ends up stammering and running away.

Katsuki Bakugo

• He freaking hates it when he realizes he’s in love.

• He notices he gets jealous when you talk to others too casually.

• He starts training even harder because he wants to be stronger for you.

• The moment it fully hits him? You defend him from someone bad-mouthing him, and his chest tightens.

• “Shit… I don’t just like them. I love them.”

• He won’t say it out loud but becomes insanely protective overnight.

• If someone flirts with you, he glares daggers and pulls you closer.

• His confession is awkward but genuine—probably blurts out “I love you, okay?! Now deal with it!”

Shoto Todoroki

• Love isn’t something he understands right away—it’s foreign but comforting.

• He notices he trusts you more than anyone else and actually wants to be around you.

• One day, you brush a strand of hair from his face, and his heart skips a beat.

• “Why does my chest feel warm? Is this…?”

• He spends weeks thinking about what this feeling means.

• His father’s influence made him fear attachment, but with you, he feels safe.

• He realizes he loves you when he catches himself smiling for no reason just because you exist.

• When he confesses, it’s simple but deeply meaningful—“I think I love you. No, I know I do.”

Eijiro Kirishima

• He’s the type to fall fast and hard, but he won’t admit it until it hits him like an explosion.

• You do something small but meaningful, like fixing his hair or remembering his favorite drink, and suddenly, he’s melting.

• His brain just goes: “Oh no. Oh NO. I LOVE THEM.”

• The moment he realizes it, he becomes the most obvious person alive—grinning like an idiot, blushing when you compliment him.

• Denki figures it out first and teases him relentlessly.

• He confesses spontaneously—probably during training or when you’re just hanging out.

• “Hey… I, uh, love you. Like, really love you.”

Denki Kaminari

• He thinks he’s just crushing on you, but one night, you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, and his heart flips.

• “Wait… why do I want to make them laugh forever?”

• He starts noticing the little things—the way your eyes sparkle, the way you say his name.

• Suddenly, every love song reminds him of you.

• He realizes he loves you when you comfort him after a bad day, holding his hand without judgment.

• He panics—freaks out and tells Sero before he even tells you.

• Ends up blurting it out without thinking—probably during a sparring session.

• “Oh, shit—did I just say that out loud? …Well, I meant it.”

Henta Sero

• Realizes it slowly but surely—love creeps up on him like his tape until it’s wrapped around his heart.

• It happens during a casual hangout, maybe when you’re laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

• “Damn, I’d do anything to hear that laugh every day.”

• His friends notice before he does because he starts bringing you up in every conversation.

• “Oh, Y/N likes that movie too!” “Y/N would totally win this game.”

• When he realizes, he’s cool about it but lowkey dying inside.

• He confesses casually but sweetly, probably while sharing a snack.

• “So… I’m kinda in love with you. Thought you should know.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

• He doesn’t see it as love at first—he calls it “a deep admiration”.

• Dark Shadow calls him out first: “Dude, you’re OBSESSED.”

• He realizes he loves you when he misses you more than he should.

• The thought of you being hurt makes his blood run cold—he becomes fiercely protective.

• He confesses in a poetic and dramatic way—probably quotes some gothic literature.

• “My heart, once shrouded in darkness, now finds solace in you.”

• He’s nervous about whether you’ll accept him, but when you do, he’s deeply devoted.

Tenya Iida

• Love is logical to him, so he doesn’t understand why his brain short-circuits around you.

• Realizes it when he starts worrying about you more than necessary.

• “Are they drinking enough water? Did they eat today? Should I check on them?”

• The real moment? You tell him to relax, placing a hand on his arm, and suddenly, his heart is racing.

• He denies it at first—tries to rationalize it.

• But one day, you cheer for him in a match, and it clicks—he wants you by his side forever.

• His confession is formal but flustered—“I have come to the realization that I love you. I hope you will accept my feelings.”

Mashirao Ojiro

• He falls first but doesn’t say anything—he’s the quiet type about his feelings.

• The moment he realizes? Sparring with you, when you pin him down and smirk.

• “Oh, I’m completely in love with them.”

• He acts normal but becomes a little more protective, a little more soft-spoken around you.

• His tail wags when you’re near, and he hates that everyone notices.

• He confesses simply but sincerely—probably under the stars or after training.

• “I love you. I don’t need anything back, I just wanted you to know.”

Mezo Shoji

• Realizes it when he starts looking forward to your voice every day.

• He’s always been reserved, but you make him feel safe.

• The moment he knows? You tell him he’s beautiful, and he nearly chokes on air.

• “They… they actually see me.”

• His confession is quiet but meaningful—probably late at night when you’re alone.

• “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this. I think… no, I know I love you.”

Rikido Sato

• He realizes he’s in love while baking—he catches himself making extra portions just for you, even when you’re not around.

• One day, you sneak into the kitchen to help, and he watches you struggle with frosting a cupcake.

• Instead of laughing, he just smiles fondly and thinks, “I want to do this with them forever.”

• The moment it really clicks is when you try his baking and get so excited, giving him the biggest grin.

• His heart pounds, and suddenly, the sweetest thing in the room isn’t the cake.

• Becomes super flustered around you after that, fumbling with ingredients and spacing out.

• His confession is adorably shy, probably over a homemade dessert.

• “I, uh… I made this for you. And also, I think I love you.”

Koji Koda

• He falls slowly but deeply, and it takes a while for him to understand his feelings.

• He realizes it when he notices the way animals react to you—his rabbits love you, birds always fly near, and even skittish animals trust you.

• One day, you rescue a tiny injured bird, and as he watches you care for it so gently, his heart swells.

• “They’re so kind… I never want to leave their side.”

• The next time you smile at him, his whole face turns red, and he gets so nervous he forgets how to talk.

• Starts getting extra shy around you, but his actions speak louder—always carrying things for you, making sure you’re safe, sitting near you quietly.

• His confession is soft but heartfelt, maybe while watching the sunset with you.

• “I… I think I love you. You make my world so much brighter.”

[dreaminguponlilypads]

HOLY FUCK!!! I absolutely adored “punishment”!! You did really well writing it, had me HOOKED

Would love to see a part 2, please (no pressure tho! I appreciate whatever you decide to post <33)

ofccc!!

PUNISHMENT PT.2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

pt.1

The days that followed were unbearable.

Simon had faced impossible odds before. He had survived missions that should have been his last, endured horrors that would break lesser men. But nothing—nothing—felt as gut-wrenching as the way you now looked through him like he wasn’t even there.

You weren’t avoiding him, not outright. You still showed up for training, still ate meals with the others, still followed orders with the same precision and focus that made you an asset to the team.

But to him? You had gone silent.

Every glance you used to give him—soft, full of warmth—was now vacant. Every touch, every whispered joke between you both, had vanished. If he spoke to you, all he got in return was a clipped nod or a quiet hum of acknowledgment.

He was losing you.

And it was his own damn fault.

Simon tried everything.

At first, he kept it simple—small gestures, reminders that he wasn’t giving up. He’d leave a cup of coffee on your desk the way he used to. You never touched it. He’d linger beside you during training, offering help or pointers. You’d take instruction from anyone but him.

He hated it.

Then, one night, he found himself standing outside your door, his fingers hovering just above the wood.

He had rehearsed what he wanted to say over and over. Had tried to figure out how to fix what he broke. But for the first time in years, words failed him.

So he knocked.

Silence.

He tried again. “Love.” His voice was quiet, rough with emotion.

Nothing.

Simon exhaled sharply, resting his forehead against the door. “Please.”

Still, you didn’t answer.

But he could feel you on the other side.

His hands clenched at his sides. He could walk away. Give you space. But the thought of losing you, of letting this fester, made something cold settle in his chest.

So he did what he had never done before.

He let himself be vulnerable.

“I never deserved you,” he murmured. “I know that.” He let out a slow breath. “And I sure as hell don’t deserve another chance after what I did. But I need you to know… it stopped being a joke the second I met you.”

Silence.

Simon pressed on. “I was an idiot. I thought I didn’t need anyone. That I didn’t deserve anyone. But you—you came into my life, and you made me want more.”

His throat tightened. “You made me better.”

He swallowed hard, his fingers grazing the ring box in his pocket.

“I was going to propose.” His voice was barely above a whisper now. “Not because of a bet. Not because of guilt. But because I love you. Because I want a life with you.”

A long pause. Then—

The door didn’t open.

But he heard the quietest hitch of your breath.

It was enough.

For now.

-

The next day, Simon didn’t push. He didn’t hover, didn’t force conversation. He gave you space.

But during a morning briefing, when he passed by you to take his seat, he caught the smallest thing—

A cup of coffee.

Placed beside his usual seat.

Your silent way of saying you had heard him.

And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t ready to let him go either.

Simon knew better than to rush things.

The coffee had been a small olive branch, but it didn’t mean everything was okay. You were still distant, still guarded, but you hadn’t completely shut him out—and that was enough to keep him from spiraling.

He took it slow. Kept his distance but made sure you knew he was there. When you needed extra ammo at the range, he was the first to hand it over. When you stayed behind after training to work on close-quarters combat, he was the one holding the pads, letting you take out your frustration in controlled strikes.

And when you finally—finally—looked at him without that hollow expression in your eyes, he knew there was still hope.

It was nearly a week later when you finally spoke to him.

You found him sitting outside, mask pulled down, a cigarette burning between his fingers. It was late—most of the base had already settled in for the night. The sky stretched above, dark and endless.

You hesitated.

He noticed.

“Didn’t think I’d see you out here,” he murmured, flicking the ash from his cigarette. He didn’t look at you, didn’t push—just let you decide how much space you needed.

You sat down beside him, leaving just enough distance that he felt the absence of your usual warmth.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—

“I don’t know how to fix this.” Your voice was quiet, raw.

Simon inhaled deeply, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before finally turning to look at you. “I don’t either,” he admitted. “But I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You swallowed, your fingers curling around the fabric of your fatigues. “I trusted you.” Your voice wavered slightly. “You made me believe I was worth something, that I—” You exhaled shakily. “And then I find out it started as some bet?”

Regret twisted in his chest. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Your voice sharpened, but not with anger—just pain. “You don’t know what it’s like to finally feel wanted, only to realize it was never real to begin with.”

Simon clenched his jaw. “It was real,” he said firmly. “Maybe not at first. And maybe I was too much of a coward to tell you sooner. But everything after that first date? That was real.”

You searched his face, eyes flickering over every inch of him like you were trying to determine if he was telling the truth.

And then, so quietly he almost missed it—

“I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

The words hit harder than any bullet.

For someone who hardly trusted anyone, it sure hurt more than it should've.

Simon exhaled, his grip tightening around the cigarette before he finally put it out. “Then let me earn it back.” His voice was steady, unwavering. “However long it takes.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t leave, either.

Instead, after a long silence, you leaned just slightly against him, the smallest shift, barely noticeable—but he felt it.

And Simon knew.

You weren’t ready to forgive him.

But you weren’t ready to walk away, either.

[sour-gummi-kiwi]

TERFism looks like the first one, but is in reality the second. That's how it recruits.

Some people who hate what men have done to them will blame maleness/men for what's happened to them and their life conditions, instead of the real culprit, The Patriarchy. The patriarchy is the systems, powers, and structures that uphold/allow/encourage/require cruel behaviour, mindsets, exploitation, and abuse of The Target Group for the betterment of The Exploiter Group. Like all other forms of social and structural power exploitation, the patriarchy's "groups" are arbitrarily invented based off of some quality which seems easy to delineate with (skin colour, religion, genitalia and sexual differences, etc) creating "Man" and "Women".

But many people do not know/understand the nature of patriarchy (or other similar things) as a social construct. In places/societies/communities coming from a history of conservatism and exploitation, sexism comes from Biological/Physical Determinism, not a social thing. The categories of Man and Woman are not socially constructed (and controlled by a system of power), they are simply how the world is built.

So people, especially women, experience terrible things at the hands of the patriarchy. They don't know/believe that its the social system of the patriarchy, but rather Just How Men Are, so they believe that Men are the enemy of the well-being of Women.

The belief that "men are The Enemy and therefore we need to Protect women" is based on the presupposition that "Gender", "Man" and "Woman", are fixed objects that are unchangeable. Trans people throw a wrench in this equation because they are living proof that this is not true. So in order to "solve" that problem, TERFs try to deny that trans women are women with "Easy" To Delineate Qualities (they do so with all trans people regardless of what their gender is or what their transition looks like).

These "Easy" To Delineate Qualities are just as made up as the Categories themselves, however. These Categories and their defining Qualities are decided by whoever the powerful Exploiting group is and what they need those categories to be to maintain power. Historically in colonial North America, it has gone like this: What makes a woman a woman? Well, a woman is not quite a person, that would be a man, but a woman is a human, so women aren't Black. Blackness is scary, powerful, brutish, ugly. Women are not any of those things. Those weird Blacks, with the boobs? They're not women. They're the failed Black imitation of our True and Real white women.

TERFs are de-feminizing trans women the same way racists de-feminize black women, because they believe in the same thing- "Woman" is a fixed category that looks and behaves a certain way. In the act of removing trans women from the realm of womanhood, de-femizing and masculinizing them, they are oppressing a Category from a different and overlapping System of Power within their own Category. As OP very eloquently said, "[TERFism is] misogyny, it's transmisogyny, everything about this structurally replicates the ways women are mistreated by society generally, and excluded from femininity, just lazerfocused on targeting trans women."

Fundamentally, one must understand that Trans-Exclusionary Radical 'Feminism' is not feminism at all. Feminism is the fight to defeat the patriarchy, a social hierarchical system, and leave no hierarchy in its place. As Bell Hooks' book says, "Feminism is for Everyone." TERFism isn't feminism because it isn't trying to defeat the patriarchy. TERFism believes that sexism is Biologically/Physically determined, not determined by the social structure of the Patriarchy. Because TERFism's first principle is a lie told by social powers, it will never be successful in overthrowing those social powers, only in re-creating them.

TERFism says its about Protecting Women from those Evil Men because it is-- it does not know how else to be. It doesn't realize that that in doing that it only ever hurts other women. Well, thats true of people who are just getting into the ideology. Often, TERFs do know that it hurts people, and that's the point. Exclusionary is in the name- it was never gonna be anything other than hateful.

For further reading, I would really recommend Shaun's video on Kellie-Jay and the Neo-Nazis and the book Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C Riley Snorton.

Starting to think it's just straight up incorrect analysis to view terfs as even viewing trans women as men, and that they hate trans women for their masculinity (and by extention being characterized by hatred for men and masculinity). Instead, i think you have to view their comments on trans women and their bodies as intentionally and forcefully masculinizing a woman, excluding her from womanhood for not fitting into white women's beauty and body standards. Many people have noted that this is similair to how black women are historically and today masculinized in society, and indeed terfs commonly attack women of color for similair things. If it is about hating men it's noticable that they don't talk about men the same way, "men" are only ever a threat if she's a woman. Any other man is allowed to be an ally to the terf movement if he's "protecting women" (by excluding certain types of woman). It's misogyny, it's transmisogyny, everything about this structurally replicates the ways women are mistreated by society generally, and excluded from femininity, just lazerfocused on targeting trans women.

[atlabeth]

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep. 

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night. 

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you. 

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI. 

But then there’s also… you in general. 

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about. 

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his. 

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him. 

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one. 

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again. 

That bums him out even more, though. 

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back. 

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear. 

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles. 

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on. 

“Gideon?” he asks again. 

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.” 

His blood goes cold as the words finally register. 

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker. 

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words. 

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger. 

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time. 

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.” 

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance. 

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you? 

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this? 

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along. 

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You. 

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous. 

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here. 

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear. 

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion. 

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” 

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours. 

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say. 

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.” 

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear. 

“I’m assuming you heard that?” 

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?” 

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.” 

“...Good.” 

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls. 

“I’m not—” 

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway. 

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him. 

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.” 

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip. 

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.” 

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips. 

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.” 

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door. 

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather. 

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking. 

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well. 

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger. 

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus. 

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about. 

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it. 

“What the h—” 

“Footprints,” he whispers.  “Th— they’re almost gone, but—” 

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm. 

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.” 

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—” 

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks. 

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters. 

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!” 

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here. 

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.” 

“He was watching us—” 

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.” 

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this. 

“Just look at me,” he says softly. 

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else. 

“Breathe with me.” 

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge. 

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Better,” you murmur. “I—” 

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him. 

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.” 

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background. 

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay. 

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.” 

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.” 

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more. 

“Gideon?” 

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.” 

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says. 

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—” 

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts. 

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.” 

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.” 

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest. 

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets. 

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka. 

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open. 

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.” 

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.” 

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.” 

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug. 

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear. 

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments. 

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.” 

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.” 

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one. 

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real. 

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.” 

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—” 

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.” 

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all. 

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired. 

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite. 

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.” 

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.” 

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket. 

“What’d he want?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.” 

“It’s not good for you.” 

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.” 

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.” 

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead. 

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.” 

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.” 

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?” 

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say. 

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.” 

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks. 

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.” 

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.” 

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate. 

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you. 

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there. 

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse? 

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.” 

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.” 

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says. 

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it. 

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you. 

-

“Very cozy,” you say. 

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds. 

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.” 

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.” 

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.” 

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.” 

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around. 

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth. 

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up. 

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.” 

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?” 

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug. 

“Okay.” 

He blinks. “Really?” 

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.” 

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.” 

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

You chuckle. “Still fighting.” 

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to. 

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything. 

“What a day,” he mutters. 

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.” 

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.” 

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.” 

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.” 

You pause. “You’re… probably right.” 

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?” 

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.” 

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.” 

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.” 

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.” 

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.” 

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.” 

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.” 

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.” 

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?” 

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.” 

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?” 

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science. 

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”  

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows. 

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.” 

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position. 

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.” 

 “Of course,” he agrees. 

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science. 

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate. 

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.” 

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance. 

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.” 

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.” 

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.” 

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?” 

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything. 

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you. 

It’s ironic. 

“Me too,” he eventually manages. 

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good. 

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible. 

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone. 

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep. 

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

[meadowfics]

the squid game characters as parents ☂︎

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑒-ℎ𝑜 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 388), 𝑐ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑦𝑢𝑛-𝑗𝑢 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 120), 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑎𝑒-𝑏𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 067 𝑠1), 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑔𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔-𝑠𝑒𝑜𝑘 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 246), 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 230), 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑔𝑦𝑢 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 124), 𝑠𝑒-𝑚𝑖 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 380), 𝑐ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔-𝑤𝑜𝑜 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 218 𝑠1), 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛

𝑥 𝑓!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

headcannons will feature: which type of parenting style the characters adapt to and why (based off of their character and backstories), how many kids they'd have with you, the physical and personality descriptions of the kids, and a cute moment between them and your shared baby/child <3

if you do not prefer what I've written for these characters or disagree, you can ignore or simply write your own.

cho hyun-ju x you

parenting styles:

you and hyun-ju balance each other out as parents.

you are the structured but warm parent.

you make sure your daughter sticks to routines, eats well, and understands responsibility, but you always do it with love.

hyun-ju is softer, more relaxed, and endlessly patient.

she never raises her voice, always talking things through calmly. she is the type to sit down at eye level with your daughter when explaining things, making sure she always feels heard and valued.

both of you raise eun-ae to be accepting of everyone, teaching her that kindness and respect matter more than anything.

hyun-ju, especially, makes it a point to talk about how people should be free to live as their true selves.

how many kids?:

you had one child, pregnant during the games. the father passed away before the games and you were struggling.

after meeting hyun-ju and making it out the games alive, she stepped into the role of a mother without hesitation.

she never once saw eun-ae as anything other than her daughter.

over the years, you two discussed the idea of having another child, but nothing ever felt as natural and right as just raising eun-ae together.

she was enough, and your little family felt complete.

what does eun-ae look like?

eun-ae has your eyes and your nose, but her expressions, the way she tilts her head when she’s thinking or furrows her brows when concentrating, are all hyun-ju.

the girl's dark, wavy hair that always looks a little messy no matter how many times you try to fix it.

she refuses to sit still for too long when you try to brush it.

big, expressive eyes that make it impossible to say no to her.

she knows exactly how to use them against both of you.

whats her personality?:

curious and always asking questions.

she wants to know everything about the world and why things are the way they are.

eun-ae has a heart of gold, just like hyun-ju.

she doesn’t like seeing people sad and always tries to help, even in little ways.

a little mischievous, especially with you.

she knows you’re the softer one when it comes to saying “no” and always tests her luck with you first before hyun-ju steps in.

one afternoon, you find eun-ae sitting on the living room floor with an old photo album spread open in front of her.

she’s flipping through the pages with wide eyes, her fingers running over the images like she’s trying to memorize them.

“mommy,” she calls, looking up at you.

“did you know mama had a twin brother?”

your heart stops for a second before you realize what she’s looking at. the pictures..hyun-ju from before her transition, back when she was in the special forces.

short-cropped hair, sharp jawline, standing in uniform with a serious expression.

you sit down next to her, trying to find the right words, but before you can speak, hyun-ju steps into the room.

“what are you looking at, sweetie?” hyun-ju asks, kneeling beside her.

eun-ae points at the photos.

“you never told me you had a twin!” she exclaims, looking between the two of you, confused but excited.

hyun-ju exhales softly, giving you a glance, and you nod, silently letting her know you’re here, supporting whatever she wants to say.

“sweetheart,” hyun-ju starts, tucking a strand of hair behind eun-ae’s ear.

“that’s actually me.”

eun-ae blinks, then looks back at the photos. her little fingers trace over the face again, like she’s trying to match it to the woman sitting beside her.

“but… you don’t look like that now.”

hyun-ju takes a breath, reaching for her daughter’s hands.

“that’s because i wasn’t happy being that person,” she explains gently.

“i always felt like i was supposed to be different, like i was living as someone else instead of who i really am. but then, one day, i decided to be true to myself. i became the person i was always meant to be.”

eun-ae stays quiet, her brows furrowed in deep thought.

you rub her back soothingly, letting her process.

after a moment, she looks up at hyun-ju with the biggest, most innocent eyes and asks, “so… you were always my mommy, even back then?”

hyun-ju’s breath catches. you see the way her throat bobs as she swallows hard, emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

she squeezes eun-ae’s hands.

“yes, baby. i was always meant to be your mommy.”

without hesitation, eun-ae throws her arms around hyun-ju’s neck, holding her as tightly as her little arms allow.

“i love you, mommy. you’re the best.”

hyun-ju lets out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around your daughter and burying her face into her tiny shoulder. you watch as she clings to eun-ae, like she’s afraid to let go, like she never thought she’d have this kind of love and acceptance.

your chest feels like it’s about to burst with love, and you reach over, wrapping your arms around both of them.

“we’re always going to love you,” you whisper to hyun-ju, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“always.”

thanos x you

parenting styles:

thanos is the stricter parent, always making sure scarlet and thor know the importance of discipline, respect, and making smart choices.

he has a tendency to lecture when they mess up, but it always comes from a place of love and deep fear of failing them.

you balance him out with a more nurturing approach, making sure the twins feel emotionally understood.

when thanos gets too intense, you’re there to remind him to soften up.

thanos has worked hard to leave his past behind, getting clean before the twins were born, and he swore to never let them experience the kind of childhood he had.

he wants to be a father they can be proud of, even if it means being tough at times.

deep down, he’s terrified of messing up, but he refuses to let that fear control him.

how many kids?:

twins...scarlet and thor.

thanos insists on calling them by these names, and despite your protests, the names stuck.

these are not their legal, government names by the way.

however, even their teachers call them that.

so, the names stuck.

thanos always planned to be there for them, but before they were born, he had doubts about whether he’d be a good enough father. once they arrived, he knew he could never let them down.

what do 'scarlet' and 'thor' look like??

both are almost exact copies of thanos.

same piercing eyes, same sharp features.

scarlet has his nose and a determined expression that mirrors his own.

thor has the same strong jawline and serious gaze that makes it seem like he’s always deep in thought.

the only thing they got from you is your hair and eyebrows.

everything else? all thanos.

what are their personalities?:

scarlet is fearless, never backing down from a challenge.

she’s sharp, clever, and sometimes too stubborn for her own good.

she tries to get what she wants, often crying if she does not, but luckily you and thanos can respectfully handle the underlying issue.

thor is quieter, more observant, but equally as strong-willed.

he thinks before he speaks, always analyzing before making a move.

the twins bicker constantly, but underneath it all, they’re inseparable. if one is upset, the other immediately feels it.

you stand in the foyer hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as you watch the chaos unfold.

“scarlet, give it back!”

thor shouts, his small hands reaching for the toy clutched in his twin’s grip.

“i had it first!”

scarlet yells back, yanking it away.

thor, never one to let things go easily, lunges for it, but scarlet is quicker. frustration bubbles between them, their voices getting louder, and within seconds, scarlet’s face crumples.

tears spill over, her frustration reaching its limit.

the moment scarlet starts crying, thor...who had been so determined to win this battle...suddenly looks stricken. the younger twin's lower lip trembles before he lets out a wail of his own, their emotions bouncing off each other like an unstoppable force.

thanos, who had been watching with narrowed eyes, sighs heavily and kneels down in front of them.

“enough enough enough,”

he says firmly, but not unkindly.

scarlet sniffles, rubbing her eyes. thor hiccups, clutching his tiny fists.

“what did i tell you about being smart?”

thanos asks, his voice calm but steady.

scarlet and thor stare at him, still hiccuping through their tears.

“you’re both upset, and for what? a toy vegetable?”

thanos continues, shaking his head.

“is this what smart choices look like?”

scarlet wipes her nose on her sleeve, looking down at the toy.

“no…”

thor mumbles the same answer, shuffling on his feet.

thanos exhales, reaching out to place a gentle hand on each of their small shoulders.

“listen to me. you’re a team. you don’t fight each other. you figure things out together.”

scarlet sniffles.

“but… i wanted it first.”

“and thor wanted it too,”

thanos points out.

“so what do we do when we both want something?”

thor glances at his twin before muttering, “share?”

thanos nods.

“or take turns.”

scarlet looks at the toy in her hands before hesitantly holding it out to thor.

"you can go first.”

thor looks surprised, but he takes it.

“okay… i’ll give it back when i’m done.”

thanos nods in approval before pulling both of them into a firm but warm hug, pressing a kiss to their heads.

“that’s how you do it,” he murmurs.

watching from your spot, your heart swells at the sight. thanos might be strict, but in moments like this, he’s exactly the father he promised he would be.

“i hope you know you’re doing a good job,” you finally say, stepping forward.

thanos glances at you, something soft and unspoken in his eyes.

“i have to.”

kang sae-byeok x you

parenting styles:

you and sae-byeok are incredibly protective of hyun-jae, but in different ways.

sae-byeok has a sharp eye for danger, always keeping watch, while you focus more on emotionally supporting him.

sae-byeok, despite her tough exterior, is a very gentle mom.

she’s patient, never raising her voice, and always makes sure hyun-jae knows that he is loved.

you’re more relaxed when it comes to letting him explore and make mistakes, knowing that he needs to learn things for himself.

together, you raise him to be both brave and kind, knowing how to stand up for himself while also being thoughtful of others.

how many kids?:

five years after the games, you and sae-byeok go through IVF.

you carry a fertilized egg of sae-byeok's, making you both connected to your baby.

your son, hyun-jae, is born nine months later.

he looks just like sae-byeok.

same sharp eyes, same soft yet serious expression.

when hyun-jae is five, sae-byeok is the one pregnant with your second child, a baby girl.

she’s seven months along when hyun-jae starts school.

what does your first child, hyun-jae, look like?:

identical to sae-byeok. people always comment on how he’s her mini-me.

dark, straight hair that always seems to fall over his forehead no matter how many times you brush it away.

expressive eyes that make it easy to tell what he’s feeling, even when he’s quiet.

what is his personality like?:

shy at first, much like his uncle cheol, but he is not afraid to stand up for himself.

he’s brave in small but meaningful ways.

he loves offering a hand to someone who falls, defending his friends, speaking up when something feels wrong.

he loves his family deeply and has a hard time being away from you and sae-byeok for too long.

the morning of hyun-jae’s first day of school is filled with nervous energy.

you’re packing his lunch while sae-byeok kneels beside him, gently fixing his tiny backpack straps.

“i don’t wanna go,”

hyun-jae mumbles, gripping sae-byeok’s arm tightly.

the boy's big eyes look up at her, filled with worry.

“can’t i just stay with you and mama?”

sae-byeok, despite being seven months pregnant, crouches to his level, cupping his little face in her hands.

“baby, you’re going to have so much fun,” she reassures him.

“there are going to be toys, and new friends, and storytime. you won’t even notice how fast time goes.”

you kneel beside them, ruffling his hair.

“and we’ll be back before you know it,” you add.

he hesitates, glancing between the two of you, unsure. sae-byeok presses a kiss to his forehead before taking his small hand in hers.

“let’s go,” she says gently.

at the school, hyun-jae clings to sae-byeok’s hand the entire walk to his classroom.

the boy's tiny fingers grip hers, his knuckles turning white.

when you arrive at the classroom door, colorful posters line the walls, and shelves filled with toys and books create a warm, inviting space. inside, other kids are already playing, laughing as they explore the new environment.

hyun-jae peeks inside but doesn’t let go of sae-byeok’s hand.

“see?” you whisper to him.

“there’s so much to do. you’re gonna love it here.”

he still hesitates.

then, something catches his eye..

the art station, where dozens of bright-colored pencils and markers are scattered across a table.

another little boy is drawing, and when he looks up, he grins at hyun-jae.

that’s all it takes.

hyun-jae, almost forgetting his nerves, drops sae-byeok’s hand and rushes inside, immediately picking up a green crayon and joining his new classmate.

you and sae-byeok stand in the doorway, watching him with fond smiles.

when you glance at sae-byeok, her expression is different...her lips are slightly pursed, her eyes glossy.

you sigh knowingly.

“babe…”

sae-byeok blinks quickly, trying to stop the tears, but it’s no use. she lets out a soft sniffle, rubbing at her eyes.

“he’s just… so big now,” she murmurs.

“it feels like you just gave birth to him yesterday.”

you chuckle, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into your side.

“he’s happy. look at him.”

she sniffles again, nodding.

“i know. i just… i don’t know. i blame the pregnancy hormones.”

you press a kiss to her temple.

“he’s gonna be so loved here. and he’s gonna do great.”

sae-byeok exhales, leaning into you, and together, you watch as hyun-jae laughs, completely forgetting about his nerves as he starts drawing with his new friends.

just like that, your little boy is growing up.

kang dae-ho x you

parenting styles:

dae-ho is the fun parent.

the one who sits on the floor for tea parties, lets the kids paint his nails, and turns mundane things into an adventure.

he’s goofy and affectionate, always making the kids laugh.

you are still soft, but you make sure they grow up with responsibility, kindness, and respect.

you enforce rules when needed, guiding them to be the best versions of themselves.

neither of you believe in rigid gender roles.

whenever ji-sung grows older, dae-ho will make sure he knows it’s okay to express emotions, to cry if he needs to, and to never fall into toxic masculinity.

how many kids?:

four in total.

yeong-ja (8 years old)

ma-ri (6 years old)

young-mi (4 years old)

ji-sung (8 months old)

what are their physical and personality descriptions?:

yeong-ja: looks exactly like you and has your independent spirit. she’s sharp-witted and protective over her younger siblings.

ma-ri: again, has a mix of both of you in her features. she is a perfect balance between playfulness and being deeply introspective.

young-mi: inherited a lot from dae-ho’s side of the family, even looking like one of his sisters. she is the wildcard, full of energy and always surprising you both. she is named after one of your friends, young-mi, who died in the games.

ji-sung: is a carbon copy of dae-ho and the most relaxed baby, always content to be held or observe the chaos around him for his little age.

dinnertime is always lively in your house.

tonight, the kids sit in their usual spots.

yeong-ja next to ma-ri, young-mi across from them, and little ji-sung in his high chair, babbling between bites of mashed sweet potatoes.

dae-ho, as always, is helping feed the baby while also entertaining the older kids with exaggerated stories.

“did you know,” he begins dramatically, “that i was the youngest boy to four older sisters?”

yeong-ja’s eyes widen.

“like ji-sung?”

dae-ho nods, smiling.

“exactly like ji-sung.” he looks over at the baby, who giggles as he waves a tiny spoon in the air.

“he reminds me so much of myself.”

ma-ri, always curious, tilts her head.

“what were ur aunties like while growing up?”

dae-ho leans back, a fond smile on his lips.

“they were amazing. they were tough, smart, and they looked out for me. i was spoiled rotten, but they also didn’t let me get away with everything. sometimes I was used as their dress up doll.. but i was lucky to have them.”

young-mi, who had been quiet while eating, perks up.

“soooo… does that mean ji-sung is lucky too?”

you laugh softly, reaching to smooth down ji-sung’s soft hair.

“oh, he’s very lucky. he has three big sisters who love him just as much.”

yeong-ja grins, puffing out her chest proudly.

“of course! we have to protect him.”

dae-ho chuckles. “but you know, ji-sung won’t have to be all ‘tough guy’ when he grows up. he can talk about his feelings, he can be gentle, and he never has to hide who he is. just like you girls.”

ma-ri nods enthusiastically.

“yeah! boys can have tea parties too.”

dae-ho smirks, wiping some mashed potatoes off of ji-sung’s cheek.

“that’s right. and i love tea parties. i think we should have one this weekend.”

young-mi gasps.

“yes! i’ll set everything up!”

as the girls excitedly plan their next tea party, you smile, watching the way dae-ho interacts with them so effortlessly, so full of love.

he looks up and catches your gaze, his expression softening.

“you know this but,” you say, playing with your fork. “i grew up as an only child. having a big family like this is so new to me… but i love it so much.”

dae-ho reaches over, squeezing your hand gently.

“me too.”

ji-sung coos from his high chair, and as if on cue, young-mi wipes his mouth in the exact same way you do. yeong-ja and ma-ri continue chatting animatedly, and dae-h realizes—this is what happiness looks like.

se-mi x you

parenting styles:

you and se-mi are the same in many ways.

both soft, loving, and full of humor.

your home is always warm, filled with laughter and gentle affection.

you both vowed from the moment you adopted lee-an that she would always know love, always feel safe, and always have a family to rely on.

you encourage her curiosity, letting her explore and learn at her own pace, always there to cheer her on with open arms.

how many kids?:

just one, lee-an.

she came into your lives when she was only three months old, after se-mi’s close friend (lee-an's mom) passed away.

you and se-mi took her in without hesitation, knowing you would give her the life her mother would have wanted.

what does lee-an look like, whats her personality?:

she looks just like her biological mother.

dark hair, bright almond-shaped eyes, and the sweetest dimples that make her smile absolutely contagious.

lee-an is the happiest baby.

she is always smiling, always giggling, and always ready to charm everyone around her.

fearless in the best way, always eager to explore and try new things.

she loves food too.

if there’s something to eat, she’s interested.

you and se-mi sit on the floor, watching as lee-an clutches the couch with her tiny fingers, her little feet wobbling as she shifts her weight.

at this point, she is ten months old. she is soon to be walking.

“she’s thinking about it,”

se-mi whispers, her hand lightly resting on your knee.

you nod, smiling.

“she’s been cruising along the furniture for weeks. maybe today’s the day.”

lee-an glances between the two of you, her dimpled cheeks rising as she gives you a toothy grin.

then, her attention shifts to se-mi, who is holding an apple in her hand.

“ooh,” se-mi coos, wiggling the fruit playfully.

“do you want this, baby!?”

lee-an’s eyes go wide, her excitement bubbling over as she lets out a happy squeal.

then, without thinking, she lets go of the couch.

your breath catches as her chubby legs take their first shaky steps forward, one foot, then another, her arms outstretched for balance.

“that’s it, baby!” you cheer.

“keep going, lee-an!” se-mi encourages, her voice full of pride.

lee-an giggles, her steps uneven but determined.

she stumbles a little, but she doesn’t fall. the girl's baby eyes stay locked on the apple, her motivation clear.

step by step, she makes her way toward se-mi’s lap.

by the time she finally reaches her, she plops down with a victorious huff, grabbing onto se-mi’s knee.

se-mi laughs, running a hand through lee-an’s soft hair.

“you did it, sweetheart!”

you lean in, pressing a kiss to her round cheek.

“so proud of you, baby.”

lee-an giggles loudly, her tiny hands reaching for the apple. se-mi hands it to her, and she immediately takes a messy bite, her whole face lighting up.

you and se-mi exchange a glance, both of you filled with overwhelming love.

“our little girl is walking,” se-mi murmurs.

you smile, wrapping an arm around her.

“and she’s only just getting started.”

park gyeong-seok x you

parenting styles:

gyeong-seok naturally leans into more traditional parenting.

he assumes that parents always know best and sometimes struggles to admit when he’s wrong.

he has a strong sense of responsibility and believes in structure, discipline, and respect.

you, on the other hand, follow newer, more loving methods.

you believe in understanding emotions, validating feelings, and talking through issues rather than just enforcing rules.

despite the 12 year difference between the couple, you and gyeong-seok both balance each other out.

gyeong-seok is learning to be more flexible, and you sometimes let him take the lead when it’s needed.

what matters most is that your home is always full of love.

how many kids?:

you came into the relationship with hana, your seven year old daughter, when you met gyeong-seok during the games.

gyeong-seok had na-yeon, his three-year-old daughter from a past relationship.

when your families merged, the two girls became inseparable.

it was like they had always been sisters.

what do your daughters look like?:

hana looks exactly like you.

same features, same expressions, same smile.

na-yeon, on the other hand, takes after her biological mother, but as she grows, she picks up so many of your mannerisms that people often assume she’s biologically yours.

what are their personalities?:

hana, despite resembling you in looks, starts adopting gyeong-seok’s sense of responsibility and protectiveness.

she is always watching out for na-yeon, making sure she’s safe and taken care of. sometimes she’s a little too protective, but it comes from love.

na-yeon is full of energy and warmth.

she adores her family and has picked up your habit of always checking in on people.

she asks, “are you okay?” even over the smallest things.

if one of them gets scolded for something unsafe, the other one is immediately upset, standing by her sister’s side against you and gyeong-seok.

the house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the shower running in the bathroom. gyeong-seok glances at the clock...bedtime.

he sighs, rubbing his face before turning to the two girls sitting on the couch, clearly fighting off sleep.

“alright, time for bed,”

he announces, standing up.

hana groans.

“but—”

“no buts,” gyeong-seok says, scooping na-yeon into his arms. she immediately clings to him, resting her head against his shoulder.

“you’ll thank me in the morning.”

hana sighs dramatically but follows, rubbing her eyes as they head upstairs.

the girls’ shared room is warm and cozy, decorated in soft pink and sage green tones. their beds sit on opposite sides of the room, identical in design but decorated with their own personal touches.

hana’s with her stuffed animals lined up neatly, na-yeon’s with her favorite bunny plush tucked under the blanket.

gently, gyeong-seok places na-yeon in her bed, tucking the blanket up to her chin before turning to do the same for hana.

he brushes her hair back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“goodnight,” he murmurs.

hana mumbles a tired response, already half-asleep.

before leaving, he remembers na-yeon’s medicine.

he heads to the kitchen, grabs the small bottle, and returns...only to find that na-yeon is no longer in her bed.

instead, she has climbed into hana’s, curling up right beside her sister.

gyeong-seok raises an eyebrow, walking over to the bed. hana hasn’t stirred, still deep in sleep, while na-yeon blinks up at him sleepily.

“why aren’t you in your bed?” he asks, kneeling down.

na-yeon shifts, hugging her bunny plush close before whispering,

“safe.”

gyeong-seok’s chest tightens.

usually, he’d remind na-yeon to sleep in her own bed, to give hana space.

hana doesn’t seem to mind...her arm is loosely wrapped around na-yeon, holding her close even in sleep.

with a small smile, gyeong-seok smooths na-yeon’s hair.

“alright. just for tonight.”

na-yeon hums in contentment, her eyes slipping shut.

leaning against the doorway, you watch the scene unfold, a soft smile on your lips.

gyeong-seok catches your eye, shaking his head fondly before standing up and walking toward you.

“you’re soft,” you tease in a whisper.

he exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“what can i do? they’ve got me wrapped around their fingers.”

you press a kiss to his shoulder, warmth blooming in your chest as you both watch your daughters sleep.

cho sang-woo x you

parenting styles:

sang-woo is laid-back but firm when it comes to discipline.

he expects responsibility and effort from the kids, but he never raises his voice.

he believes in teaching them rather than punishing them.

you, being seventeen years younger than sangwoo, have all the energy in the world for your kids.

you’re the one running to every sports event, helping with every school project, and making sure they have the most fun childhood possible.

together, you and sang-woo balance each other out. while he’s the rational, calm parent.

you bring warmth, excitement, and emotional support.

how many kids?:

the both of you have twins!

eun-ho is the boy. younger by one hour.

eun-ji is the girl. older by one hour.

what does eun-ho and eun-ji look like? what are their personalities?:

both twins resemble you more than sang-woo.

however, eun-ho has distinct features that remind everyone of his paternal grandmother.

eun-ji is the spitting image of you, often mistaken for your younger self in old photos.

both kids are extremely smart.

eun-ho is more logical and precise, while eun-ji is clever and adaptive.

eun-ho is more english and history smart.

eun-ji is more math and science smart.

they inherited their kindness from their grandmother, who loves them deeply.

eun-ho is quieter and more reserved, while eun-ji is bold and quick-thinking.

despite their differences, they are inseparable and always help each other out.

the kitchen table is covered with notebooks, pencils, and scattered worksheets.

the twins sit across from each other, identical expressions of frustration on their faces.

“ugh,” eun-ji groans, dropping her pencil.

“i don’t get it.”

the eleven year olds huff, with eun-ho pushing his glasses up his nose.

“me neither. this is the hardest question ever.”

sang-woo, who had just finished reviewing some work, looks over and leans in.

“let me see.”

eun-ji immediately slides her worksheet over.

“this one. it makes no sense.”

eun-ho nods.

“we tried everything, but it’s just not clicking.”

sang-woo studies the problem for a moment before explaining it in a way that makes sense.

clear, concise, and just challenging enough for them to figure it out on their own.

he guides them through it, asking the right questions, making them think.

after a few moments, eun-ji’s eyes widen.

“wait… wait, i get it!”

eun-ho’s fingers fly across the paper, scribbling down numbers.

“i got the answer! is this right?”

sang-woo smiles subtly.

“let’s see.” he checks the work, then nods. “perfect.”

both twins light up before suddenly launching themselves at sang-woo, hugging him tightly.

“you’re the smartest, dad!” eun-ji says, squeezing him.

“seriously, how do you know everything?” eun-ho adds, looking up at him in admiration.

sang-woo chuckles, rubbing their backs.

“i don’t know everything,” he humbly replies, “but I do know this.”

you, watching from the doorway, smile at the sight. seeing your kids adore sang-woo, seeing him soak in their love despite his usual reserved nature, makes your heart swell.

“you’re such a nerd,” you tease, walking over and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

sang-woo smirks.

“and yet, you married me.”

the twins groan playfully at the affection, but they’re still beaming as they return to their homework, feeling accomplished..

namgyu x you

parenting styles:

namgyu is a free-range parent.

he doesn’t believe in too much discipline and prefers to let seo-hoo explore the world on his own terms.

whenever seo-hoo asks for something, namgyu’s immediate response is, “ask your mom,” because he doesn’t like making final decisions.

he fully trusts you to be the responsible one.

despite his laid-back approach, he is incredibly loving and present in seo-hoo’s life, always ready to play, teach, and encourage him.

you, on the other hand, provide the structure, making sure seo-hoo grows up responsible while still being able to enjoy his free-spirited nature.

how many kids?:

just one, seo-hoo.

the energetic, mischievous six-year-old son namgyu and you have who is the light of both your lives.

what does seo-hoo look like? what is his personality?:

he looks just like you, from his eyes to his facial expressions.

the only trait he got from namgyu physically is the way he smiles.

a wide, bright grin that makes it impossible to stay mad at him.

he is all of namgyu’s energy bottled into a tiny body.

seo-hoo is always moving, always curious, and never stays in one place for too long.

honestly, you might want to get your son checked for hyperactive ADHD.

he loves playing sports, especially soccer, because it’s something he shares with namgyu.

sea-hoo is naturally confident, not afraid to try new things, and sometimes takes risks he probably shouldn’t.

you arrive home from work, pushing the front door open only to hear soft murmurs coming from the living room.

“okay, okay, stay still, buddy,”

namgyu’s voice says gently.

curious, you step inside and see your six-year-old son, seo-hoo, sitting on the couch with his leg propped up on a pillow.

namgyu is kneeling in front of him, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he carefully dabs alcohol on a small scrape on seo-hoo’s knee.

seo-hoo winces.

“owww, it stings!”

namgyu blows on the wound immediately.

“i know, little man, but it’ll be over soon. just gotta get all the bad stuff out, then i’ll put the coolest spiderman bandaid on it.”

seo-hoo pouts, still wiggling his foot.

“promise?”

namgyu grins.

“i swear on all the ice cream in the fridge.”

you lean against the doorway, watching as namgyu applies the bandaid with more care than you’ve ever seen him use for anything else.

he gently pats seo-hoo’s leg, making sure the bandaid sticks properly before sitting back.

“all done. see? you survived.”

seo-hoo examines the blue and red bandaid like it’s a badge of honor.

“do i look cool?”

namgyu laughs.

“so cool. i bet all your friends are gonna ask where you got it.”

finally stepping forward, you clear your throat, making both of them look up.

“what happened?”

namgyu rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“uh… we were playing soccer outside, and he went for this huge kick..”

“it was awesome, mom,” seo-hoo chimes in.

“like boom! but then I fell.”

you sigh, shaking your head, but there’s no real frustration behind it.

“you okay now, baby?”

seo-hoo nods, proudly pointing at his bandaid.

“dad fixed me.”

you glance at namgyu, who shrugs, trying to play it cool, but there’s warmth in his eyes. even though he always jokes about not being the ‘responsible’ parent, you see it—the way he pays attention, the way he takes care of your son in the most genuine ways.

you walk over, pressing a kiss to seo-hoo’s head before leaning down to kiss namgyu’s cheek.

“you did good.”

namgyu huffs a laugh.

“don’t sound so surprised.”

you roll your eyes, but when you see the small, proud smile on his lips as he watches seo-hoo bounce excitedly on the couch, your heart swells.

he might not always think of himself as the responsible parent, but you know the truth... he’s the most caring dad in the world.

the salesman x you

parenting styles:

the salesman is always busy with work, rarely home during the day,

he makes sure his family has everything they need.

he contributes 100% financially, ensuring that you and the kids live comfortably.

you, on the other hand, handle the everyday parenting, making sure your children grow up to be kind, humble, and well-grounded despite their wealth.

the salesman is more of an enigma to the kids.

present in their lives, but not always physically there.

when he is, though, he makes sure they feel loved.

how many kids?:

three in total.

ho-joon is the oldest son, being sixteen years old.

jae-hoon is the middle son, being twelve years old .

ji-woo is the youngest, being the only girl, only ten years old.

what does ho-joon, jae-hoon, and ji-woo look like? what are their personalities?

all three kids take after their father.

the salesman’s genes are just that strong.

sharp, defined features, dark hair, and the same quiet, intense eyes.

they all inherited his reserved nature.

none of them are loud or overly expressive, but they carry themselves with quiet confidence.

ho-joon is naturally more responsible, often looking out for his younger siblings.

jae-hoon prefers to do his own thing, not overly attached to his family but still respects and loves them.

ji-woo is the softest, the most reserved, and the most attached to you, preferring your presence over anyone else's.

it is a quiet afternoon when ho-joon, jae-hoon, and ji-woo were walking home together after school, the late sun casting warm light over the streets.

as they strolled past a familiar row of shops, ho-joon suddenly noticed a familiar figure walking into a pastry shop.

he stopped in his tracks.

“dad?” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the man in the sleek black suit disappearing into the storefront.

jae-hoon followed his gaze.

“huh? guess he’s not working right now.”

without hesitation, ho-joon took the lead, holding the door open for his younger siblings as they all stepped inside.

the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air, and there, standing by the counter, was their father, scanning the selection of treats.

when he turned and saw his three children standing before him, a rare, genuine smile spread across his face.

“ah,” the salesman hummed, amused.

“i wasn’t expecting to see you all here? I'm guessing you guys were walking home from school.”

ji-woo’s small hand gripped ho-joon’s sleeve as she stayed close, peeking up at her father with big, quiet eyes.

ho-joon crossed his arms.

“we caught you sneaking around.”

jae-hoon smirked.

“are you on a secret mission, dad?”

the salesman chuckled, shaking his head.

“something like that.” he turned to the worker behind the counter.

“let’s get them whatever they want.”

ji-woo, who had been clinging to her older brother, suddenly brightened.

“really?”

he gave her a soft nod, and the kids wasted no time picking out their favorite pastries.

once they were settled at a corner table, the salesman took a seat with them, hands folded neatly on the table.

“so,” ho-joon started, taking a bite of his treat, “what do you actually do for work?”

jae-hoon leaned forward.

“yeah. we never really asked you or mom before.”

the salesman smirked, tilting his head slightly.

“it’s classified.”

ho-joon huffed.

“figures.”

ji-woo, swinging her legs under the chair, looked up at him with innocent curiosity.

“but you take care of us?”

his expression softened.

“of course.” he reached out, ruffling her hair.

“everything i do is to make sure you’re all comfortable and happy.”

the kids exchanged glances. they weren’t stupid...they knew whatever their father did wasn’t normal.

at the same time, they never had to worry about anything.

they had a nice home, good education, get whatever they want, and have a life many people could only dream of.

“we know,” ho-joon finally said, leaning back in his chair.

“and we appreciate it.”

the salesman smiled again, something rare and genuine.

“i love you all. you know that, right?”

ji-woo immediately nodded.

“i know, dad.”

jae-hoon smirked.

“you could say it more often, though.”

ho-joon nudged him.

“shut up, he’s trying.”

the salesman let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

as they finished their pastries, he checked the time before standing.

“come on. i’ll make sure you all get home safely,” he said, adjusting his suit jacket.

they walked together, the salesman taking slow strides beside them.

he wasn’t home often, but moments that were quiet, and personal with his children.. were what kept him going.

happy valentine's day <3 I hope you enjoyed :)

this took sixteen days to complete.

[anemoiashifts]

what your s/o thinks about you !

+ your relationship

choose a painting above.

💌

disclaimer !! please don’t force messages to fit. i do a ton of readings & im sure if this one doesn’t fit, you will find one eventually that resonates. this is just a general reading :) ! ps this is also primarily for people who have not shifted yet but that doesn’t mean people who have shifted can’t get some insight on how their s/o feels about them !

sorry this reading is so late. i was on top of my game by posting this on the first of the month for a while. anywho ! happy late valentine’s day. may you consume all the gourmet chocolate & watch all the cheesy 2000’s strait to dvd romance movies you can find. sending you all a virtual bouquet of flowers. rose ? tulips ? your choice.

────୨ৎ────

🕊️ | dear pile one,

quite honestly based on the cards i pulled, your s/o puts you on a pedestal more then anything. they love that analytical, take nothing at face value aspect of you. while they celebrate it, they see it can become your detriment too. overthinking your every action, going “frame by frame” in life, can be tiring. you have a tendency to keep stuff in to appease others & not rock the boat, which they pick up on more then you think they do. this is someone intuitive & can sense your emotional wellbeing as if it was sentient. they want you to come to them. a caregiver at heart, wanting to soothe any insecurity or worry that floats around in the back of your head. while they may be awkward & stiff with their approach, they mean well despite struggle to execute the touchy-feely aspect to your relationship. they’re not as open as you are when it comes to emotions or trusting others. they’ve been burned in the past & for some of you that could mean literally. they’re the silent, sitting in a dark corner, the people watching type. they appreciate your input & how you always seem to open their eyes to new perspectives that they’d never come up with themselves which pulls them out of their funk.

the both of you make up a wing of a phoenix, always rising from the ashes of whatever hardship you may be facing together. the two of you are riddled with self doubts at times, teaching each other how to heal from trauma or let things go once & for all.

in summary with a few extra details ? they love you. like i said they see you as this light which they are not worthy of. with these last two cards & pure vibes im getting the picture that they had this perfectly curated “cool” aesthetic image to anyone looking in on them & when you came around that was shattered, leaving them vulnerable & scrambling to put the pieces back with old chewing gum & popsicle sticks. this person has a tendency to be secretive. never sneaky. not like hiding their phone screen or anything. more like not telling you things to upkeep that image they so desperately want for themselves. could be all smokes & mirrors to hide what’s really going on or maybe they just want you to think highly of them, the same way they think of you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

🐩 | dear pile two,

they like to keep it light with you. it’s giving cat & mouse. on & off but you always end up together. a class project, a seating arrangement. you just look good together, aesthetically.

this person likes to pretend they’re nonchalant & don’t care as much as they really do. unlike pile one, they feel like they have nothing to hide from you. you’re both open books with one another. you have been to the depths of hell & the highest of heavens together. it.

they can get a little short & irritated. nothing a throwing a table lamp at a wall won’t fix, usually. not the best of methods to let out some steam but know none of that is directed at you. anger issues are very much present within this person. why this is relevant is because it impacts your relationship more then this person will ever admit. they have a vision, having carefully crafted a plan before you came into the picture & now that you’ve stumbled into their life it’s setting everything ablaze. a workaholic who is now scrambling carefully combing through their prospects & goals to make accommodations in the margins for your presence & that scares them sometimes. at times embarrassed that you have this imaginary grip on every aspect of their life. they want to buy a new car ? what’s your favorite color ? they’re hungry ? they’ll stop at your favorite place as an excuse to bring you your favorite dessert. they somehow hold everything together really well considering the unnecessary stress they put on themselves.

expect late nights & going to bed alone. when morning comes, arising with a bouquet of flowers being delicately placed on your bedside table with a handwritten note. chances are they’re probably in the kitchen doing the dishes you were to lazy to do the night prior. their love langue is very much acts of service. they really really do care. going to the ends of the earth to bring you your simplest of desires. weather that be leonardo da vinci's "salvator mundi” or a pair of shoes you saw in a vintage fashion magazine yesterday. it will show up perfectly perched on your bed on a random tuesday as a just because.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

🐇 | dear pile three,

deep, intense spiritual connection. literal fireworks erupt when you first locked eyes with them. you’re in tune with others emotions & can physically feel what the other feels. you’ve spent past lives together. very high school cheerleader x football player in a 90’s romcom. a slight delay in actually dating or tying the knot. the whole friends to lovers pipeline may be in the cards for you. at the very least, a slow burn type romance.

you two could’ve met traveling. maybe that’s something they do for work ? nonetheless, they seem very artistic. having a sketch book filled with drawings of you & your favorite things. a secret poet who writes poems about you & puts little hearts around your name like a lovesick school girl. a photographer who takes your photograph when you least expect it. not in a creepy way. they just like to look at you. except them to pick you up little things off the ground and present them to you like a small child. they like collecting rocks & see a really shiny one on the ground ? congratulations you are now a proud shiny rock owner ! they’re very sentimental & thoughtful like that. someone who has a little box of every item you’ve ever given them no matter how minuscule. you’re their home, which could’ve been something they’ve never had before & neglected to even think about before they ever met you. somethings does tells me they’re a little bit of an age gap. if not in the literal sense, one of you may be more mature then the other. an “old soul”. this could go for any aspect in your relationship. sense of humor, how petty they (or you) could be, interests, tastes.

the love talking to you. loveeeee talking in general. about things that interest them, about things that interest you, the news, a new book they read. a very curious mind of which they enjoy sharing with you. i mean like up until four in the morning talking to you in bed all while still under the impression that it’s nine o’clock at night. time absolutely flies when it comes to spending time with each other. most importantly ? they listen. really well. like their memory is pretty much photographic. said your favorite food was chocolate covered strawberries one time two years ago ? your fridge will never not have chocolate covered strawberries in it again for the rest of your life.

────୨ৎ────

[stnrvr]

a short answer is that nobody liked iraq and the middle east is not actually less stable. sure the political bodies are upset but the populace is not seeing much change

there has always been the fantasy, that you will see among revolutionaries, that if you kill the right people and replace them with the right people; you can fix things. george bush had to give multiple interviews to say that they were trying to help and were not trying to engineer a specific social order. the phrase was "we are not nation building." we all knew they were nation building but we also knew that iraq was a specific kind of shitshow that america helped create in order to have opposition to the iranian shitshow that was related to the older concept which involved puppet rulers; which failed horribly.

also, people don't think back farther to how iraq was trying to conquer their neighbors, attempted to burn kuwait to the ground, and were ethnically cleansing their own populace. everybody, who won't admit this anymore, supported that war because iraq had "the third largest army and wasn't afraid to use it." the people standing against the war mostly stood against it because the reasons were all obviously lies and they knew george was a fuck up so there was no way it was going to end well.

when people talk about how burning things to the ground will be an improvement and older people say that is a stupid idea that never works and only brings suffering; it is iraq that those older people are thinking about. the reason we know burning it to the ground doesn't work is because america, and other countries helped, has burned more than one country to the ground and exactly zero of them have gotten better.

so yes. we actually are talking about it all the time. we just have turned it into a generic discussion because it has happened multiple times and is so consistent that there is no reason to make a specific reference. kind of like you can talk about american school shootings and there is no benefit to point out a specific school or even a specific shooting in that school.

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

[lostinlovingrevery]

Loveuary Challenge! - I Think I Love You

Worst! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: Here's my entry for @yxtkiwiyxt and @lubdubology's Loveuary Challenge! I picked Worst Logan cause he's my boo rn <3, also I sorta but not really based it off the song "I Think I love You" by the Partridge Family! It just been stuck in my head!

Plot: Logan has a crush on the florist in the neighborhood...

Warnings: SMUT, and fluff :), MDNI, PiV sex, Logan being an anxious baby girl, Wade being a nuisance, a lil angst cause of Logan self-loathing

Word Count: 5650

Logan stared at the door of the apartment building, his hands felt shaky, and his stomach turned. He felt like all the adamantium that had merged into his bones had melted and pooled into his feet, keeping him from stepping outside. 

The Wolverine, the toughest son of a bitch out there

Frozen in place because he’s nervous to talk to a woman.

Pathetic.

He swears he could hear Wade right now, taunting him, calling him names. 

“Whiskey dick, whiskey dick, whiskey dick-OW!”

He turned his head, annoyance clear on his face, shoving his hand in Wade's face which had become annoyingly close to his, and pushed him away. Apparently, he zoned out in his anxiety-ridden panic so much he didn’t notice Wade stalking him. “Shut the hell up.” He growled, shaking his head, turning back to the door. He took a deep breath, pushed the handle of the door and stepped outside in the cold February air. 

He didn’t like the cold, but at least the fresh air seemed to help clear his head, as he shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way down the street, to you. He knew where you would be, as you are almost every day. He has your routine remembered down to the second - though hopefully you haven’t noticed that. 

The colorful florist shop came into view quickly, seeing it was only right down the street from the apartment Logan was hopefully temporarily residing in. He caught sight of you, wonderful, lovely, gorgeous you, and his heart started beating faster. 

He met you pretty quickly after he regrettably agreed to live with Wade until he could get on his feet. He’d been walking the block, the streets of the neighborhood every day to get familiar with them, and hopefully find a job. He bumped into you- well actually, he caught you. 

You were up on a ladder, fixing the marquee sign of your shop, changing out the words of the previous promotion you were offering for your flowers, and putting up the new sale. Logan was watching you- you immediately caught his eye from the way the sunlight glowed around you. One misstep down the ladder and you nearly took a tumble to the concrete- but he stepped in and caught you in his arms, bridal-like in how he held you- like a true hero. 

God, you were so sweet, so flustered. You thanked him a million times, and gave him some flowers as appreciation. A bouquet of Hyacinths. He felt silly as man to be taking flowers from someone…But he couldn’t say no to you, not with how you made over him, how your hand touched his arm, how you fixed the collar of his flannel and pressed your hand to his chest. That pretty smile, those gorgeous eyes….

He was smitten from then on. 

Something drew him to you, every day. An urge to see your smile, to hear your voice. A strange comfort in a world that was similar to his but not-quite-his and it had put him on edge. 

He came home that day he met you and Wade immediately knew what was up. 

“Oh, I see you ran into a flower girl.” He grins, eyeing the bouquet in Logan's hand. Logan frowned, quaking a brow. “The lovely lady at the florist shop down the street, yes? She’s a good friend of mine. You recognize her in the picture?” Wade nods to the polaroid that was sitting in a frame, burnt and torn from the incident with the TVA, now carefully preserved. Logan glanced at it and recognized your smiling face. 

“I just helped her out. “ Logan mutters, a shake of his head as he glances down at the pretty flowers you gave him. 

“And she appreciated it so much that she gave you flowers?” Wade stood up. “So…I’m only going to ask this once and whatever you say, I’ll believe you! But…”

Logan waited in confusion, his irritation growing as silence went on. 

“Whose ass do you prefer? Me or hers?” 

That was about 6 months ago. Since then, he’s gotten to know you on his walks, running into you nearly every day- purely by coincidence of course - not because he had the pull to see you ever since he met you. Wade invites you to his parties, occasional dinners, and movie nights- sometimes you stop by with a homemade meal to drop off for them. He’s learned your favorite drink, your favorite snack, your favorite song, your favorite flower. Your favorite things. Ever since he’s been on these walks, your shop being on the path that he takes to his job, the dining room table of Wade and Althea’s apartment always has a vase of fresh flowers.  

Logan felt for you a feeling he thought he didn’t have the capability to feel anymore.

Today was Valentine's day, and Logan was working the nerve up to finally ask you out. Wade had been pushing him to for months, always getting hit with a “shut the fuck up” from Logan, pretending as if he wasn’t interested, even though it was far from the truth. 

Logan was terrified. Not just of asking you out, but of you saying yes.

Logan didn’t think highly of himself. He was dragged into this universe, forced to start over, in some ways a blessing but also a curse. While the Wolverine in this universe is regarded as a hero, he still remembers his old life, where he was regarded as a killer, a monster, a disgusting mutant. He knows of the blood on his hand, the mistakes he’s made, the people- people he loved- that he turned his back on. 

You didn’t know this. 

You were just such a lovely creature. You had a figure that made Logan want to drool like a dog, fisting himself nearly every night in the shower to the image of you. You were smart, open and welcoming, and extremely compassionate - and likely the only person truly patient enough to put up with Wades antics. 

Logan didn’t feel like he deserved to have someone like you in his arms, in his life. Yet, with the constant nagging from Wade, and the flutters he gets from your smiles - he found himself giving in. He was going to attempt to ask you out today, Valentine's day, and hope that this doesn’t end in hellfire, like most things in his life.

He spotted you, outside your shop, preparing bouquets of roses, lilies, and other flowers he hadn’t really learned the name of yet. The sight of you took his breath away. You had on a pink t-shirt, tied in the front that hugged your waist, and high-waisted jeans- they fit around your tummy and thighs snuggly. When you turned around he had to gulp. Two large heart prints on the fabric of your jeans, over your butt.  

He couldn’t help but hold a small smirk as he admired your ass from afar. It wasn’t till he got glared at by an old lady walking past that he realized he probably looked like a pervert. He cleared his throat, giving the lady a courteous yet awkward nod as he made his way over to you. 

He reached you, and could barely make a word to you, you turned around, looking up in surprise at Logan. 

“Oh! Hey Lo!” You smiled, eyes bright. “Happy Valentine’s day!”

He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest. “Hey doll,” He greeted back. “Sell a lot of flowers already?”

“Yes, actually.” You smiled bigger. “It’s so cute, these people coming in here, buying flowers. I had this teenage boy come in a little bit ago, he was SO nervous, he was buying flowers for his first girlfriend.” You clasped your hands together, shaking your head, your hair bouncing with your movements. “So cute, young love. You remember your first crush?” 

Not really, it was almost 150 years ago.

“Sure do.” Logan lies. 

“Do you have any Valentine's plans? I heard Wade and Ness’ are going on a date!” 

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I mean, no- no I don’t have any plans.” He stammers, “I just know about them going on a date. Wades all nervous about it.”

“He’s so cute.” You laugh, turning back to the bouquets and fixing them up a little bit. “So, you don’t have any plans?”

“No, not at the moment.” He says. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, your expression looked like you wanted to say something, but then you bit your lip, and nodded, turning back to the roses. 

Flowers, you need to give her flowers before you ask her out.

“I actually wanted to buy some flowers, bub.” He says finally, almost monotone- lacking any excitement in his voice.

“Really? What are you looking for?” 

“Uh…” He glanced at the bouquets in the front. “I’ll look around.” He nodded to the shop, and you smiled a nod. He turned to go inside, but you called his name.

“You okay Lo?” 

“Fine.” He forced a thin-lipped smile, before heading inside your shop, and you watched him with a suspicious squint. This was not the usual Logan you knew. He looked nervous as hell, he’s never acted like that before. An anxious thought hit you. He’s never bought flowers before- you gave him bouquets for free, it was your discreet way of flirting. What if he’s buying them for some other girl? 

You tried to shake the thought out of your head, as you ended up going inside- the cold was biting your skin, and now you were nervous at the thought that some girl out there had caught Logan's attention before you could muster the courage to say something to him. 

The inside of your shop was an absolute wonderland of plants. Not only did you sell flowers, but you sold houseplants, gardening tools, gardening decorations, and more. Seeing that it was Valentines, you had the place decorated with red and pink hearts, and bouquets were scattered all over- alongside decorative cards someone could pick up and hand write to their loved one. 

He was staring at the cooler of flowers, that you could create individual bouquets with. He had several flowers picked out already, as he stared at them with concentration, completely focused on the task at hand. 

You tried to busy yourself with your usual tasks as you leaned against the counter, but your eyes kept wandering to where he stood. You glanced up to his face and felt yourself swoon for a moment. He’s just so handsome.

When Wade first told you about the new roommate, whom he described as “Hugh Jackman is he was an alcoholic and had emotional constipation”, you just rolled your eyes and laughed- figuring he was up to his shenanigans. Then you met said roommate- the man literally caught you when you fell off a ladder the first time you met. How could you not form a crush on him? 

He did strangely look like Hugh Jackman too...

Then you got to know him. You got to know of his temper, his smart mouth, and you saw how hard he tries every day, despite his past. He doesn’t know that you know about it, and that you know he’s a mutant. Wade spilt the beans accidentally over a few drinks where he ended up crying in your lap about Vanessa, and somehow ended up talking about Logan's problems too.  

It didn’t change your view of him at all. Of course not. Sure it sounds a bit...violent. Logan wasn’t a perfect man, but neither were you. You were the kind of person who believed that everyone deserves second chances, and you fully believed this was Logan's second chance…

Logan huffed, staring at the flowers he picked out. Hyacinths, roses, something leafy that he doesn’t know the name of but smells incredibly good. He walked over to your register, catching sight of the bare skin of your midsection as your shirt rode up your body from leaning over. 

“Pick something out?”

“Yeah..This looks alright?” 

“It looks great.” You smiled, you took the bouquet, and began preparing them. “You want them wrapped, or in a vase?”

“Wrapping is fine.”

“Color?” 

“Um…Pink.” 

You nodded, and moved to start wrapping the bouquet, snipping the stems, and pulling some leaves off so the flowers would remain fresh. You hummed along to a song that played over the speakers in your shop - something Logan knew was your own personally crafted playlist. He faintly recognized the song, something he likely heard years and years ago. 

This morning I woke up with this feeling

   I didn't know how to deal with and so I just decided to myself

    I'd hide it to myself and never talk about it

          And did not go and shout it when you walked into the room

I think I love you (I think I love you)

      I think I love you so what am I so afraid of

          I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a love there is no cure for

                     I think I love you isn't that what life is made of

                              Though it worries me to say that I never felt this way

His eyes trailed over the curve of your face, as he thought about what it might feel like to press his lips along your jaw, leaving behind soft kisses and purple bruises as he showed you how he felt about you. 

You finished wrapping the bouquet, and presented it to him proudly. 

“There you go! Looks good?”

“Looks perfect.” He nods, flashing you a genuine smile that makes you blush. You moved to type the price into the registers. You informed him of the price and he pulled his wallet out, pulling out some cash and handed it to you. 

“Thanks Lo…” You put the cash away, completing the sale. “So…Who’s the lucky one getting that bouquet? Or are you getting it for yourself?” You tease as you lean forward against the counter towards him. He looked at you blankly, then looked at the flowers.

You fucking idiot.

“Well,” He glanced at the bouquet, “It’s actually for you.” He says, handing it back to you over the counter. You stood up, surprise on your face. He felt himself flush, you have to think he was the biggest dumbass on Earth. Walking in here and buying flowers from you just to hand them back over? He wasn’t even thinking. That’s what you do to him, his brain goes fuzzy when you’re around. It’s not as if he wasn’t over 200 years old, and has done flirting and relationships more times than he can remember.  

You slowly took the flowers, and he waited, but a huge grin grew on your face. You looked up at him through your lashes. “Logan?”

“Yeah bub?”

“You want to have dinner with me tonight?”  

His mouth hung open, and he closed it, a thin-lipped smile, and he nodded. “Yeah..That’d be nice.” 

You bit your lip, as you resisted the urge to wiggle your hips and dance from excitement. “Okay, how about 7 pm?” 

“That’s good for me.”

“Okay, just buzz in when you’re here.” You smiled. Your apartment was upstairs, a very convenient location for you when you were looking for a place to open your shop a few years ago. He nodded, turning to leave, “And Lo? Thank you.” You add, cradling the flowers to your chest. 

He smiled at you, before leaving the shop. You took a deep breath. 

God he is so cute…

The next few hours were hell for Logan. He sat on the couch panicking over every possible situation that could happen tonight. Ranging everything from you laughing him out of your apartment to him somehow accidentally maiming you with his claws. 

He reached out for the bottle of whiskey he pulled out the second he came back into the apartment, and then another horrifying thought came to his head. 

Whiskey dick

He set the whiskey bottle down. It’s not like he was expecting anything to happen tonight, it was just dinner. It’s not the first time you had dinner together, but..If something were to happen, he couldn’t risk the idea that he wouldn’t be able to perform. Fuck, nothing would be more embarrassing then the idea of being able to get into your pants and he couldn’t even do anything. In fact, he hasn’t done anything in years and he really rather not think about that. 

You were not much better. After you closed the shop at 4 o'clock- it had been an extremely busy day. Customers rushing in and out, men, women, mothers with children, a father with a newborn, an old man, a man in a business suit who had no idea what he was looking for, a group of teenagers, people who tugged you left and right for a custom bouquet, advice for flowers, even asking you to write love notes to their loved ones. Some of them are cute, others baffling you at how they managed to get a lover if this is the effort they only put in towards it.

Despite the chaos of the day, Logan lingered in your mind. Nerves shot through you as you realized that you had nothing planned when you asked Logan to come over for dinner. 

You rushed upstairs to your apartment, rushing to shower, shave, moisturize- and figure out what the hell you were going to make Logan. Oh- and clean your apartment. Put on makeup. Figure out an outfit. 

Didn’t think this through.

You check the time, 5:45. It’s okay. You have time.

You looked at the bouquet Logan had gotten you, and you smiled softly, carefully taking one of the flowers in your hand as you felt the petals. How adorable was he, the way he scrutinized every flower he picked out, and you were so worried that he was picking them out for someone else, and it was meant for you the entire time. The way he looked like a deer caught in headlights when he handed them back to you. 

You've never seen him act like this before. Logan was always so…calm, if that’s the way to put it. He acted with a certain nonchalant grumpiness that didn’t make him an asshole but more like someone you could be comfortable with because he didn’t mind the silence and didn’t force the awkwardness. He’d get pissed at Wade- that was the worst you saw of his temper, albeit you’ve heard a few amusing stories from Wade over it. The Logan you saw today seemed like a schoolboy approaching his crush to ask to dance. Did you really make him that nervous?

You took forever picking out the dress, the perfect makeup, deciding how to style your hair, and you started cooking a tad late, and before you knew it you heard the familiar buzzing at your front door. 

You walked up to your door, pressing the intercom button, 

“Hello?”

“It’s Logan.”

“Come on in, apart 4-”

You hit the unlock button, hearing a clicking across the intercom, as you let go and go back to the kitchen to check on your food for the moment. A knock at your door and you quickly ran over to open it. 

Logan stood there, adorning a nice t-shirt, flannel, and jeans. He held a bottle of wine in one hand, a hand in his pockets. He blinked as his eyes raked over your figure. 

“Wow.” He breathed out, a small smirk appeared on his face. “All this for me?”

You blushed, biting your lips, “Come in.” You moved out of the doorway to allow him space. He stepped in, brushed past you, not taking his eyes off you. 

“I brought some wine- It’s the kind you like, right?” He held up the bottle and you smiled, taking it and nodded for confirmation.

“It is! Thank you.” You say, “Dinners running a little late by the way…Hope you’re not too hungry yet.” 

“Need help?” 

You eyed him cautiously, “Didn’t Wade say you almost set the apartment on fire trying to cook?”

“No. That was him, asshole just blamed it on me.” Logan scoffed, shaking his head. You chuckled, leading him to the kitchen. He was greeted by the fresh aroma of seasoned veggies, and steak simmering in a pan. “Smells great.” He says warmly, his eyes taking over your back. 

God you looked good.

He had been so nervous, but then you opened the door. Standing there, all gussied up and it felt like he could breathe. A stroke of confidence ran through him, and suddenly he didn’t know why he had been so…Nervous.

It was you. Sweet, wonderful you. Who always knew how to calm him down with a simple touch of your hand, how you always asked how he was doing but never pushed him to talk about anything he didn’t want to. You, who greeted him happily every single day as if you didn’t know he was going to show up, with that sparkle in your eyes that made him think you saw something in him he didn’t know existed. 

How’d that song go again? 

   I think I love you, so what am I so afraid of

          I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a love there is no cure for

                     I think I love you isn't that what life is made of

                              Though it worries me to say that I never felt this way

His eyes landed on your thighs, where the hem of your dress ended just above your mid-thigh. Your skin just looked plush and soft and fuck he wanted to bite you. 

“Thanks! Could you wash those potatoes and cut them up for me?” You asked, turning your head to glance at him. You saw his eyes snap up to yours at the last second. 

“Sure bub.” He nods, moving to the counter next to you, he grabs the sack of potatoes already lying out, pulling a few out and bringing them to the second where he washed them under the faucet, before placing them on the cutting board already set out. He reached out and grabbed a knife from the placeholder and set to dice them. You watched him for a moment and it slipped out.

“Do you ever use the claws to do that?”

He stopped, completely frozen, before his eyes turned to look at you and you realize you messed up. 

“Cause..I…Figured that…Would be…more…convenient…” Your voice got quieter under his stare. “Wade…Told me. A while ago. To be honest though I assumed, even if you guys didn’t say anything, you both acted weird about how you came here and stuff.” 

He sighs, his nostrils flaring as he shakes his head turning back to start dicing the potatoes again, anger evident in the way the knife slammed into the cutting board.

“It doesn’t bother me.” You say softly. His face relaxed, and he looked at you again. You brought a hand up to his bicep. “I think you’re great Logan.” 

You saw his shoulders relax. He put down the knife, and he turned to face you. “You sure?” He asked, and you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. “There’s still things you don’t know about me.”

“I actually think I do.” You squeezed his shoulder, stepping closer. “I’m sorry, for everything that happened to you.” 

He pursed his lips together. “I’m not a good guy bub.” 

“You’re trying though.” You say. “That’s the only thing that matters.” 

He let out a small breath, as he leaned forward and quickly captured your lips in a kiss. He was soft, gentle about the way he kissed you- trying to give you space to pull away, but your hands slid into his hair, and pulled him closer. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you against him. 

Parting with a harsh gasp, slowly opening your eyes, to still him in a similar state as you. Flushed, panting, with swollen lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He says. 

You shook your head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I found out.” 

“How long?”

You bit your lip, “Few months.”

He let out a sigh. “You really knew all that time…And didn’t think less of me?” 

“Of course not.” You reassure, your eyes glancing down at his lips. You looked back up at him. “I like you…A lot Logan.” 

He smiled, tugging your closer, lowering his head against yours. “Yeah bub? Think I like you a lot too.” 

Your hands moved down to the collar of his shirt. “Why don’t you show me?” You whisper. 

“Really?” He chuckled. “What about dinner?”

“That can wait. Show me.” 

He wasted no time in capturing your lips in a searing kiss, your arms rested on his shoulders, as his hands gripped your hips and tugged you closer, leaning into you. Your lips moved together with a fervent passion, and he licked across your bottom lip, as you allowed him inside, moaning the moment you felt his tongue lick into your mouth. 

His hands moved down your hips, over the curve of your ass, and he squeezed- letting out a soft breath at the feeling of you and the way his hands covered you. He leaned down, encouraging you to jump as his hands went to your thighs and he picked you up, carrying you into the living room. 

He placed you gently over the couch, one hand braced by your head, the other still resting on your hip, as he kept himself located between your thighs. He pecked your lips a few times before moving down to kiss your neck, his lips brushing over your pulse point, you sighed contently at his touch. 

He brought his hand down, realizing that he’d become a tad shaky as he pushed it underneath the skirt of your dress, and began moving up your thigh. 

“This okay?” He mutters as he kisses along your collarbone. 

“Mhm.” He felt you nod, and his fingertips made contact with your panties- they were lacey, he could feel as he brushed over them and he let out a shaky breath. “You’re so beautiful darling-” He mutters, nuzzling into your neck and sucking at your pulse point. 

You let out a soft moan, which spurred him on as his fingers flit under the hem of your panties, reaching your soaking wet core. Your hands came to his shoulders, gripping his flannel tightly. 

“You alright?”

“Mhm.” You nodded again, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip. He lifted his head up, watching your reaction as he delved his fingers into your warm wet folds. “Oh-” You breathed. He had to swallow back his moan at the feeling of you- so wet for him already. Have you been needy for him for a long? He’d have to make it up to you. 

His fingers stroked back and forth in your folds, before he found your clit, softly pressing against it, making your hips jump. He nuzzled against your face, hearing the sound of your heart pounding. He understood, his heart was pounding too. He began running circles over your bud, listening and watching for your reaction that showed him what you liked. 

“Logan-” You whined. 

“Yeah bub?” 

“I need you.” 

Oh fuck.

“Please?”

He let out a shaky breath as he lifted his head to look down at you. “You sure?”

You opened your eyes and nodded. Biting your lip and you look up at him pleadingly. 

Normally, he’d like to take his time. Open you up, get a taste, and hear those sweet moans escape your lips. He’s not sure if he’s going to last long- the way you’re looking at him right now made him want to cum right then and there. 

He captured you in another heated kiss, adjusting himself, his hands came to your panties and pulled them off you. The sweet smell of your arousal haunting his senses and making his mind go blank. His hands came up and quickly undid his belt and pants, pushing his jeans down, his hard cock popping out- thick and swollen, pre cum oozing at the tip and making your mouth water. He was huge, bigger than any man you’ve seen. You’re wondering if maybe you should have let him finger your- but then again, the idea of him fucking you open created a fresh gush of wetness between your legs. 

He started to adjust himself, then stopped.

“I don’t have a condom.” He says blinking up at you. 

“That’s okay. I’m on the pill.” You say shyly with a shrug. 

He groaned. “I think I love you, bub.”

You giggled at that, not realizing how much honesty was behind his words. 

He leaned down and pecked your lips again, before leaning his forehead against yours and angling himself against your wet pussy, finding your hole and circling his tip around it, lubing you with his pre-cum.

You gasped the moment you felt his tip push inside, and your legs shook from the pressure of him stretching you open. He waited a moment, before moving deeper inside you, inching slowly and carefully, watching for any sign of your discomfort. 

You on the other hand? Was on cloud 9. You tipped your head back, mouth hanging open, eyes rolled back. You would often use your fingers to fuck yourself, imagining it was him- but your fingers were nothing compared to him. 

He bottomed out inside you, resting there, as he felt your walls constrict around him.

Don’tcumdon’tcumdon’tcumdon’tcum

He begged his mind as he went into a haze over how good you felt with you spread on his cock. He should have made a move sooner, fuck he should have asked you out the second he caught you off that ladder. He knows one thing for sure, that he wasn’t letting you go at all. You’ll be lucky if he even lets you out of his sight at this point- much less this apartment. Already making plans in all the ways he’s going to fuck you.

“Logan-” You whined. “I- I need you to move.”

He took a deep breath, and he slowly pulled out, before thrusting back inside. A small hiccup escaped you, and he did it again. He pressed his hands onto the cushions of the couch. One leg braced against the floor, the other bent and resting against the cushion. He thrusted his hips again, as he felt you begin to open up, and moved his pace to go faster. 

He fucked into you at a steady pace, his lips finding purchase on your neck again as he sucked bruises onto your skin, giving him something to focus on because he thought he was going to blow any second, your whines and cries filling his ears. 

He sat up, looking down over you, his mouth hung open and eyes heavy-lidded as he panted, maintaining his pace. He moved to grab the hem of your dress and pushed it up your belly. 

Fuck fuck fuck!

He watched himself fuck into your, the way you pussy sucked him in greedily with each thrust, your arousal coating his cock and your thighs. 

“You feel so fucking good doll-” He moaned, he started getting faster, his fingers finding your clit again, and began rubbing. “I’m gonna need you to cum baby.” 

“Logan-” You whined, grabbing his arms, your nails digging into the skin of his forearms as you stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes and parted lips. 

“C’mon, I know you can do it sweetheart. Cum for me.”

Your body trembled, as his fingers moved faster against your clit, he angled himself to thrust upwards into you, and that thin thread finally snapped. You stared into his eyes as your cunt clenched and tightened over him. Relief washed over you as wave after wave of your orgasm passed, Logan fucking you through it and finally cumming himself.

He slammed into you, his body falling over yours, with a shout of your name, as he filled you up with ropes of his cum. He was panting harshly, and your arms wrapped around him, as you turned your head to seek out his lips. He pressed an eager kiss back to you, bringing his arms to carefully hold onto you while you both laid there in post-orgasmic haze. His head resting next to yours, your hand softly scratching his back. 

“Lo?”

“Hm?”

“Can I see the claws?” 

There was a moment of silence, and he brought his fist up, safely away from your face as he let his claws out.

Snikt!

You gasped, eyes wide in delight as you observed the metal appendages that came out of his fist, the way they shined against the light of your living room. “Wow!” You exclaimed. “You know that would be nice for pruning.” 

Logan chuckled, “Really? You think?”

“Yeah!” You grinned looking at him, admiring his smile, and the flush of his cheeks. 

“Are you hiring?” 

You giggled, moving to kiss him again, you moved to wrap your arms around him and you heard the claws retract as his arms wrapped back around you, his arms pulling you into a warm embrace that felt nothing but safe in his arms. 

Logan thought back to that song again, as he felt your lips against his, your hands tugging him closer. 

I think I love you isn't that what life is made of

    Though it worries me to say I never felt this way

              Believe me you really don't have to worry

        I only wanna make you happy and if you say "hey go away" I will

                 But I think better still I'd better stay around and love you

                         Do you think I have a case let me ask you to your face

 Do you think you love me?