#which I can enjoy in small bursts but man

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

���If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[charmedimsure]

PARTNERS IN (BUSTING) CRIME || hwang jun-ho

pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x f!reader

summary: You bond with your new partner Jun-ho

word count: 2.5k

warnings: drinking. i think that's it

A/N: gotta write something with my OG squid game boy 🫶. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

You smirk as a motorcycle rounds the corner, holding a man without a helmet and a girl on the back. "This one's all your's, newbie."

He sighs, a small grin on his face. "You know, I've been a cop longer than you have."

"Well, you're new here, so that makes you the newbie." You practically push him out of the squad car.

Jun-ho rolls his eyes, approaching the pulled over vehicle. "You're not wearing a helmet. Your license, please."

"Damn it," the man groans. "Isn't this entrapment? Hiding to catch people is shady. You want to squeeze money out of broke citizens?"

"Your license, please."

The man hands it over. You watch as the girl behind him gets off the bike.

"Hold on." She walks up to your partner. "Look can't you just let us go. I'm wearing one."

Jun-ho looks at her. "No, ma'am."

The girl smiles at him, bending to get a better look at his face from under his hat. "Hey, you're really hot."

You nearly choke as she squeals, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of the squad car, an amused smile on your face.

"I could charge you with obstruction," Jun-ho says, not even looking at her.

"You're a tough cookie," she says. You need to hold yourself back from bursting out laughing, feeling actual pain from your efforts when she pulls out her phone and starts posing for selfies with your partner, who is still ignoring her existence.

The ticket prints from Jun-ho's vest, and he walks to the man on the bike, the girl following him. "The fine for not wearing a helmet is 20,000 won. Pay it on time."

"Hey, can I post this picture online?" The girl asks.

"Yes please," you say under your breath, a few chuckles escaping your mouth.

"Are you on Instagram? Let's follow each other!"

The man starts his bike and drives off, leaving the girl standing there. She chases after him, and this time you can't hold back your laugh as she curses him out and throws her helmet at him.

Jun-ho laughs at the scene before turning to you, already knowing what's about to come.

"Why didn't you follow her on Insta?" you ask, a teasing smile on your face. "That could've been the start of something beautiful."

Your partner rolls his eyes, a smile on his face as he walks to the driver's side of the car. "She's not my type."

You walk to your side of the car. "I don't understand what's not to like. She could be your own personal fan girl." You mimic her squealing, jumping up and down and clapping your hands. Jun-ho laughs and gets in the car, you following him.

Jun-ho had been transferred to your precinct for traffic about a month ago, and you had been assigned as partners two weeks ago. So far you've enjoyed having him as a partner. For one, he's competent, which is definitely a good thing. He also has a sense of humor, something that your last partner lacked. He had requested a new partner when you put childproof locks on everything in his cubicle. When you pulled the same prank on Jun-ho, he just laughed it off. And, of course, that girl wasn't wrong - Jun-ho is very easy on the eyes.

"Alright, Officer Picky," you say as you close the door. "What is your type, then?"

Despite trying to quell it, a feeling of nervous hope bubbles inside of you.

"Definitely moms," Jun-ho says with a smile. "The older the better."

You let out a loud laugh. "What about grandmas?"

"Even better," he chuckles.

You smile fondly at him, and he gives you a confused look.

"What?"

"I'm just so happy you're not lame like my last partner," you chuckle. You slap the dashboard of the squad car, leaning back in your seat with a mischievous smile. "Let's go! Crime doesn't wait for us!"

Jun-ho playfully rolls his eyes as he starts the engine, pulling off the side of the road and back onto the street.

<>

Jun-ho smiles as you point the radar gun at the squirrel running down the street in front of the car.

You turn to him, an amused smile on your face. "That squirrel is going 32 in a 25. Should we bring him in?"

"He's getting away, it'd be a lost cause," he says.

You curse under your breath. "We'll get him next time."

Jun-ho laughs. He's been on traffic for six months now, and he's been enjoying it much more than he thought he would. There's definitely a lot less stress on him than there was as a detective. It's much less dangerous, so his mom is happy with the change.

He also has to give credit to you for making traffic enjoyable. Your humor keeps patrol from getting boring. And he'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy being around you. Watching the smile bloom on your face when one of you makes a bad joke is highlight of his day. He's not sure when your laugh became his favorite sound, but he does know that he doesn't think he can go a day without hearing it.

"So," you say, dragging out the O. "Some of the guys are going to grab a drink tonight. Are you coming?"

Jun-ho feels his heartbeat quicken just a bit. "Uh, yeah, I think so." He feels heat rushing to his cheeks. "Are you?"

You smile, biting your bottom lip as you nod. Jun-ho is startled by his urge to pull your lip free with his thumb. Instead, he grips the steering wheel.

"I'll see you there, then." He looks back at the road. "Oh, there's the squirrel!"

You gasp, flipping on the siren. "Let's get him!"

Jun-ho quickly turns the siren off, scolding you through his laugh.

<>

You step into the bar, immediately locating your coworkers based on the amount of noise they're making. With a small laugh to yourself, you walk over to them, clapping one on the back as you come up from behind them. "I have never met a louder group of people in my life."

They all cheer when they see you, raising their beers in greeting. One of your coworkers orders one for you, and you thank the bartender as they put it in front of the stool you're getting on.

"So what have I missed?" you ask, raising the bottle to your lips.

"Da-hae was drooling over that girl by the window," someone says, making everyone burst out laughing.

The man in question's face turns red. "Was not!"

"Yeah, he wasn't drooling," your friend Sun-hi says. "He was just staring like a psychopath."

You nearly spit your beer out, leaning on Sun-hi's shoulder to laugh.

Yong-gi, another one of your coworkers, looks toward the back of the bar, waving for someone to come over. "Jun-ho, come on. Your partner just got here."

You turn to see Jun-ho approaching your group with a bashful smile on his face. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. He's wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt that perfectly hugs his biceps. He picks up his beer, giving you a teasing smile. "Nice of you to finally join us."

You put your hands up in fake surrender. "Considering I had to stop home first, I actually made it here in record time."

"So Jun-ho tells us you tried to arrest a squirrel today?" Yong-gi laughs.

"He was breaking the speed limit and I took a sacred oath to protect this community. Jun-ho's the one who let him get away!"

<>

After about an hour of laughing and joking, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, Sun-hi following right behind you.

Once you're done and come out of the stall, Sun-hi smiles at you through the mirror. "So, are you finally gonna make a move on Jun-ho tonight?"

You look up at her, startled, making her laugh. "Please, you looked like you wanted to fuck him right there in the middle of the bar." She takes her chapstick out of her bag, reapplying. "You should go for it."

You shake your head, turning on the sink and getting soap. "Yeah, because it's such a good idea for me to try to hook up with my partner. He definitely won't request a transfer after that."

She smiles. "I don't think he would. That boy wants you just as badly as you want him."

You roll your eyes, turning off the sink and grabbing a few paper towels.

"I'm serious!" she defends. "You guys remind me of me and my husband before we started dating."

You sigh. Sun-hi and her husband are absolutely perfect together. You can only hope to have a relationship like their's someday.

"Look, if he says something, I'll say yes, but I'm not gonna mess this up. He's the best partner I've had and I'm not going back to another lame one."

Sun-hi groans. "Fine."

<>

Jun-ho takes a sip of his beer, nodding along to the story Da-hae is telling him, though his eyes are on you. He watches you bend over the pool table, subconsciously sticking your tongue out as you focus on the striped ball you want to get into the socket. You hit the cue ball and it knocks the 10 ball right into the hole, and the triumphant smile on your face as you add to your lead against Yong-gi has Jun-ho breaking out in a smile of his own.

"Are you even listening to me?" Da-hae asks, breaking Jun-ho out of his little trance.

"Yeah, man," he says.

"What was I just talking about?"

"Uhh, crime?"

Da-hae rolls his eyes. "You have got to ask her out already."

Jun-ho raises an eyebrow at his fellow cop. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you've been looking at her like a love-sick fool ever since you transferred here." Da-hae points towards the bar. "And because if you don't, someone else will."

Jun-ho follows his finger and sees a man standing with his friends, his gaze on you in a way that ties Jun-ho's stomach in knots.

"She's a good person, and so are you," Da-hae says, clapping a hand on Jun-ho's shoulder. "Don't miss out."

Jun-ho nods, taking another sip of his beer. Another coworker of theirs comes over and changes the subject, but his mind stays on Da-hae's words.

<>

The clock hits midnight, and most of the cops have left, needing to get up for another shift tomorrow. You and Jun-ho are two of the last to leave, both having off the next day.

Jun-ho feels a hand on his shoulder and turns his head to see you standing next to him. "I think I'm gonna head out. I'll see you Monday, though."

Jun-ho turns to you. "Let me drive you home. I was planning on leaving too and that way you won't have to pay for a cab."

You smile, nodding your head. You both say goodbye to the few that are left and head out to Jun-ho's car.

The ride to your apartment building is uncharacteristically quiet. Not uncomfortable, but quiet. You've driven with Jun-ho more times than you can count, it's literally your job, and usually the car is filled with chatter and laughter. Tonight, however, a peaceful silence envelops you like a nice, fluffy blanket.

He pulls in front of your building and an idea pops into your head, making you turn to him. "Hey, while I have you here, can you come take a look at my thermostat? It's been acting up."

"Yeah, no problem," he says, following you out of the car and up the stairs to your floor.

You unlock your door and step inside your apartment, letting Jun-ho walk in after you. He smiles as he sees your place, the comfy throw blankets messily hung over your couch, obviously used very often. This isn't the first time Jun-ho has been in your apartment, but he notices new things every time he comes.

Your digital picture frame catches his eye, smiling as he sees pictures of you and your friends and family. His face softens when another picture pops up. You're sitting in the squad car, smiling at the camera and throwing up peace signs as Jun-ho face-palms in the background at a bad joke you had made. He laughs at the memory, getting your attention.

He smiles at you, pointing to the frame. "I didn't think I'd make the frame."

You feel your cheeks heat up knowing that he saw that. "You're one of my closest friends, of course you're on there."

His heart flutters knowing that he's an important person in your life. You lead him over to the thermostat, leaning against the wall by it. Jun-ho removes the cover, checking the wiring.

You take the opportunity to admire the man in front of you. His hair falls perfectly over his forehead, his face scrunched up in concentration. Jun-ho may be the most perfect person you've ever met, both in terms of looks and personality. It's crazy that he's single. And here you are, doing nothing to show him your feelings.

Jun-ho lets out a small "aha", snapping you out of your thoughts. He holds the rubber around one of the wires, carefully pushing it into the socket. You hear the air turn on and smile.

"Good work, Officer," you tease.

He puts the cover back on with a smile. "You're welcome, ma'am, anything to help a citizen."

You lightly slap his arm, making him break out laughing. "What have I said about calling me 'ma'am'?"

"To call you it as much as possible."

You slap him again, making him laugh harder. "I said don't call me ma'am." You continue hitting him.

"Okay, okay, stop assaulting me," Jun-ho chuckles, catching your wrist before you can hit him again. You move to hit him with your other hand but he catches that wrist as well, smiling down at you. He examines your face, memorizing every detail. Da-hae's words from the bar echo in his mind. Finding his courage, Jun-ho releases your wrists, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you into him.

You gasp in surprise as his lips land on yours. You quickly recover, though, running one hand through his hair and putting the other on his chest, feeling his muscles.

Jun-ho pushes you against the wall, smiling against your lips. He pulls back, keeping his forehead against your own. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

You smile up at him. "Me too."

He leans back in, kissing you again, enjoying the feeling of you against him. You happily kiss him back, opening when he darts his tongue out to trace your lips.

You pull back this time, looking at the man with a smile on your face. "Y'know, the others probably had bets on when this was gonna happen."

Jun-ho lets out a laugh. "We should mess with them. Ruin all their bets."

"I knew I liked you for a reason," you say, kissing him again as he chuckles on your lips. That can wait for Monday, though. All that matters right now is that he finally got the girl.

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy

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[shaisuki]

“c'mere megumi. i know you're tired.”

gojo calls out to him but the boy ignores him and continued to walk.

“he won't satoru. you traumatized him.” you quipped at him.

teleportation is fun and all but not to a fourth-grader megumi who got almost dropped mid-air from the teleportation skill gojo have, only to catch him mid-air before he truly drops.

“i catched him before he fell.” the white-haired male pouts.

“catched him before he fell?” scoffing at him. “he's a child, satoru. think before you do something to him. you almost endangered him with your antics and you can't do whatever you please when you want. you're an ass and you know it.” you spat at him and gojo pouts and he's like a child kneeling down while being scolded.

you crouched down to meet the height of megumi. patting his head and you began to speak in a soft voice. “i'll carry you, okay? i promise no funny business.” drawing a cross in your chest to convince megumi. the poor child is sleepy and fighting the urge to not sleep caused by the earlier wrongdoing of an pre-adult.

deciding to trust you, megumi comes closer to you and puts his arms around your neck before carrying his small body in front of you. your arms tucked under his thighs and it turns to snuggle you. his jaw in your shoulder.

megumi blankly stares at the adult behind you. immature, he thought but his eyes are getting heavy and sleep is calling to him. before his eyes closed he reminds himself not to be carried by that weird man.

it took a few seconds before the child snuggling in you fell asleep. you can tell from the lack of movements of his body and the small snores. patting his back before continuing to walk.

gojo followed you. he felt bad and it was like a punch to him in the gut when you scold him but he likes it. loves it when your cheeks puff and your eyes rolling at him in annoyance.

stopping at a bakery to get a few sweets to satisfy his sweet tooth and for the siblings to eat back home. you continued to walk, enjoying the little peace and quiet before a old lady approached at you three.

“oh my! what a cute family.” the old lady commented and your eye twitched at the comment. giving the lady a smile before briefly bowing.

taken a back at the sudden statement before gojo burst out in a laughter. “she called us a family, (y/n).”

“ha-ha-ha. funny.” you dryly responds to him and adjusting your arm to make megumi comfortably settle in you. the child is completely passed out in your grasp and you can't help but to kiss megumi's wild hair in which megumi groans before going back to sleep.

“aww, come on. i didn't mean it, okay?” gojo whines, blocking your way as he walked backwards to meant he really is sorry.

“okay.” you replied back to him. “just don't do it again.”

“okay!” he beams up and once again silence filled in the long way of walking.

dusk is beginning to settle down and the sky turns into orange. the sunlight giving it's final rays before the night falls.

“kind of you to take them both, satoru.” you break the silence and gojo hums. thinking about something.

despite gojo's stubbornness and his lack of tact in things, you like that he's willing to help the children to have a roof over their head and spoiled them like it's his own. even preventing megumi to be taken away from his clan and let him have a normal childhood with his sister.

“say, (y/n). what if we adopt them both?” gojo asks you.

“we? and adopt?” gojo nods. waiting for your answer. “i think it's fine. these two will have two guardians to look them over if the other one's not around and in case something's happen to one of us.”

“don't say that, (y/n).”

you raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.

“it's inevitable, satoru. in this line of work we have.” you said to him. referring how dangerous the jujutsu society is and you'll never know what the future may hold.

“i'll protect you. us”" his bright blue eyes peeking through his dark glasses with sincerity. looking at you and megumi sleeping in your arms.

“satoru....” you call him and his eyes full of sincerity.

“that's nice, satoru.” you smile at him but the expression in his face is anticipating something more.

“i know you will, satoru.” and he grins. pressing a tender kiss in your forehead and patting megumi's head. “stop that, sato. you'll wake him up and don't get too sappy with me. it's not you.” he pouts at that but kisses you again.

he can't wait to be with you forever.

[cozage]

congrats on 2k!! for the event, I was wondering for option one, with Sanji, zoro Luffy and laws reaction to their s/o covering their face with kisses, leaving lipstick marks?

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law Total word count: 730

Lipstick Stains

Sanji

Oh you already know this man is inches within his life. Nothing gets him so weak in the knees like physical touch and affection. 

He relishes in your kisses during the moment, letting you go on as long as you want. You can never give him too many kisses, really. 

After the fact, any time he passes by a mirror, he stops to admire your love and your handiwork. He just stares at all the marks you left on him for a few minutes, his hands lightly passing over each one. 

Some of the crewmates (Zoro and Usopp) make fun of him, but he just smirks and says “What, boys? Jealous?”

He struggles to wash it off. He’s a very clean person, but he hates to wash his face after you’ve marked it all up. You can very often find light traces of your lipstick still across his face the next day because he scrubbed so gently while bathing. 

Zoro

Whenever you cover his face with kisses, Zoro…tolerates it. He doesn’t love it, but he doesn’t hate it either. 

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror much, so he doesn’t notice the red-stained marks you had left all over his face in the process. 

A few things tipped him off when he went down to dinner, though. Sanji is stifling a laugh at him, which isn’t uncommon. But Robin is also giving him a cheeky grin. Usopp and Luffy are both looking anywhere but at him, trying not to burst into laughter. 

And you…your cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment. He rushes to the bathroom and looks at himself in horror. It took him a minute to realize exactly what was all over his face, and he let out a small string of curses as he grabbed a towel and desperately scrubbed at them. 

He comes back to dinner, his face beet red (from embarrassment and excessive scrubbing), and sits down next to you, pretending like nothing happened. 

After that, he always ALWAYS checks himself in the mirror after you come visit him. 

Luffy

Luffy loves to battle with you on who can give the other person more kisses. Everything is always a game with him. 

He wears your kisses around without even knowing it for a while, until Nami says something about it. 

At her words, he rushes to the mirror and looks, admiring his face and all the proof of your love. He’s kind of jealous that you can mark your kisses so easily. 

That’s when he gets an idea. The next time you two have a kissing war, he offers to put on lipstick as well, that way you can tell for sure who won. 

And that way, you get to see proof of his love too. 

The two of you parade around the ship with your faces covered in shades of red and pink, showing off your new designs and laughing the entire time. 

Law

Law is not a man who enjoys physical touch. But if you’re alone…he’ll allow it. Sometimes, he might even enjoy it. 

Especially if he’s in his study and you come in and curl up in his lap, softly kissing his face to try and get him to come to bed. You can be very persuasive. 

“Go on to bed,” he finally says, shutting his book. “I’m going to get some water and I’ll be in a minute.”

He doesn’t pass by a mirror, or else he would’ve noticed the new addition. Instead, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo see it as he grabs water from the kitchen. 

“Love the new look, Captain!” Shachi teases, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. “You should keep it like that!”

Law reaches up to inspect his cheeks, but he can’t feel anything. He looks at Bepo, confused. 

“It’s kind of…everywhere,” Bepo says, trying his best not to crack a smile. 

Law quickly rushes to a mirror and finds his face covered in lip marks. He races out of the room without another word and back to you. 

“Y/N,” he says, trying not to get angry. “Next time, please inform me when you’ve…redecorated.”

You giggle and pull him into bed, adding another kiss mark to his forehead. Scrubbing it all off can be a problem for tomorrow.

[yuvany]

TAKING CARE OF THE YOUNGER MEMBERS

" it feels the best when you' re right next to me "

HYUNG LINE x fem!reader . . . CONTENT LIST : fluff + domestic acts + est relationship + skinship . . WORD COUNT : 545 & & CHECK BOX !!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

It was cold, and Heeseung was walking beside you in front of the rest, enjoying the view of frost coating the the grass, but most importantly to be with you. The weather was cold enough to blow smoke into the air, and Heeseung made sure that you were warm and cosy. As well as that, he'd turn around and see if anyone else was freezing. He catches Jake not wearing his scarf properly and says, "Fix your scarf man, you can't become sick now. There's no one to impress in this weather either" He tightens it and pats his shoulder. "I mean, you did this when you liked y/n." Jake says, exposing Heeseung and he chuckles awkwardly and return to you. "You really also gotta keep yourself warm, honey." You say as you intertwine your fingers with his.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

He has the nurturing side to him. Let's you be in the kitchen with him when the others aren't. You giggle to yourself, knowing that you have someone as perfect as Jay with you. "You guys aren't allowed in here." Jay holds his palm out for Jake and he sigh. "Why is y/n in there then?" he groans. "She's differen't from you animals, go to the livingroom or something." Jay shoos them away. "So I'm special?" You ask, and he nods,"Very." kissing you softly on the forehead. You and him cook together in the kitchen, the new aroma of the food filling the building. "Sweetie, could you tell the rest that they can finally come here?" He asked, pulling the oven mitts off his hands. "of course," you say and run off, leaving him smiling.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Sees the others playing card games, and asks if he can join, in which they reply yes excitedly. "babe, come play with me." He says, patting the place on the mat beside him. You shake your head at first, but then he pleads with you and you give in, taking a seat beside him. "What are we playing?" You ask, and they answer with a game you've never heard of. You, unfortunately don't know the rules, and poke Jake on the shoulder. "Hmm?" He asks, and you admit that you don't know the rules. "No worries, we can play together." He pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin in your neck as he looks at his cards. "jake hyung, you're so weird." Riki says with a giggle and this results in him getting a card thrown at him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

You were in the practice studio, supporting the seven while they trained with their coach, and you helped them record the dances that they used to monitor their moves. While they did that, you noticed how tired and exhausted they looked, sweat dripping down their foreheads. You cringed at this, knowing that you don't like the feeling of sweat sticking to your skin, so you offer to bring them all some snacks and water bottles while they were on break. The youngest burst out in cheers and thanked you over and over for your kindness. "Are you sure? I can follow along?" Sunghoon asks, chasing after you and stopping you by the door. "I'm sure. Please take a break from your hard work, babe." You take a small towel and wipe his face with it before rubbing your nose with his.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa

[voxisdaddy]

Love Me, Please

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairings: Alastor/Lucifer/Adam/Husk/Angel/Vox/Valentino/Tom Trench/Saint Peter

Type: Scenarios/Comfort

C/TW: Swearing, blood, reader written with fem parts in mind (bc this bout periods, duh)

In which you miss your boyfriend/cling to your boyfriend and are being emotional about it. Basically—period emotions.

This is more for me bc it’s that time of the month and I desperately want some comfort lol | also Angel’s I left up to either be platonic or romantic

Alastor

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He was at yet another unremarkable overlord meeting when he felt something pulling on him. Back at the hotel, you laid on your bed wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, eyes tiredly watching your shadow pulling on one of Alastor’s shadows-which he left to keep an eye on you. Alastor’s grin turned to one of amusement—oh how needy you are when it’s that time of the month for you. The meeting finally came to a close and instead of making his way back to the hotel with a lovely stroll, he disappears in his shadows. Not before bidding a friendly farewell with his dear friend, Rosie. He materializes in the center of your room with a shit eating grin as he twirls his microphone around.

“I was hardly apart from you for more than an hour, my dear.”

Lucifer

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer had errands he couldn’t postpone today and so he made you promise to text him when you miss him and he’ll make his way right back in a jiffy! The bedroom door only closed behind him when he got a text from you. An ‘I miss you’ along with a sad face emoticon. He burst the door open, tears welling up in his eyes, as he crawled back into bed with you to hold you close. You honestly thought he was more emotional than you at the moment.

“My poor ducky! I’m sowwy!”

Adam

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam has been around for ages so I like to think he knows a bit about menstruation. On top of that, he has an army of baddies he likes spending time with-usually training but that's still time spent with them regardless. However he's definitely still rough around the edges since usually with his girls, he uses that to egg them on into being tougher fighters either physically or emotionally. If you're a person who's quick to be a grump or a crying mess then uhhh...just know he doesn't mean to be a dick all the time. He tries though, despite how annoying and tiresome it is. Especially since you make him feel oh so special with how you seem to demand his attention and his attention only. Right now you lay on his chest, looking on at the items set on the coffee table with a glint of amusement.

"Babe-you said pads with wings! I got that! I even made sure the chicken wings came with the good sauce."

Husk

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk is very vigilant so he's quickly able to come to the conclusion that you're on your period before even you realize it. It was just after he finished closing up the bar and returned to your room for a late nights rest when he smelt it. He might technically be an old man, but he's a respectful one and has been around for quite some time. He knows that small. Despite knowing you might be embarrassed to find out that he can smell it, he figured you'd be more grateful that he woke you up so you can deal with it before you wake up feeling all gross and annoyed in the morning. Plus it was worth it to almost immediately get a hug from you after being apart for a few extra hours than he liked.

"Come on. Don't wanna ruin your new pajama's now, do you baby doll?

Angel Dust

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man was out on a much needed night out with his long time bestie, Cherri Bomb. You of course coming as his plus one that his bestie always welcomed like the supportive girly she is. He couldn't quite enjoy himself as much this time around though as he sat at in a corner booth with you hunched over your drink. You're hand gripping one of his hands as if you're afraid he's gonna leave. Despite how awkward he felt trying to comfort you, he did his best and allowed himself to be as sympathetic as much as he could.

"Toot's-if you wanna leave it's okay! You know I'll stick with ya! No need to make ya headache worse than it already is!"

Vox

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox still holds certain belief's and mindsets he had from his time in the 1950's. Part of that meaning him being 'grossed out' by your period and beliefs in woman faking or over exaggerating their monthly disturbances. He learned to keep his opinions to himself though, due to previous encounters with Velvette, and found it easier to just well, cater to your needs. They were easy enough for the most part. Food and beverage cravings? He's got ya covered. Cramps and aches? You're in luck because this man is basically one large heating pad. Which quickly became a downside for him because then you wanted him all the time. Didn't matter if he was working or not. He tried to put his foot down once but it only made you emotional so uhhh-

"Honey, I'll only be gone for one hour. As soon as the meeting ends, I'll lay my head on your stomach, okay?"

Valentino

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino can only smirk to himself when he finds out it's now your time of the month. Which isn't hard to figure out since he woke up to you latched onto him like a koala this morning. A puff of red smoke invades your senses as a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, a third hand coming to play with the top of your head. Valentino, spending years working with woman and people who endure this bloody cycle, knows a few...remedy's. He has his favourite solutions, obviously. Only if you're down. The last time he tried being more...persuasive with his advances to you during these times, it didn't go well-to put it lightly.

"Mi cariño~A good fucking helps with this time of the month, you kno-" ... "Or we could share some snacks. Kitty!"

Tom Trench

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For this man I pray you are not a bitch on your period. Poor guy already has to deal with his co-star Katie Killjoy everyday. Whatever you deal with on your period though, just know your man is there and keeps your needy ass close. Such as right now, as you sit in an oversized fuzzy hoodie on Tom's couch, watching him and Katie host the latest news live. You glance down at your phone with Tom's messages open. You want to text him but you knew it wouldn't reach him anyways-they had to keep their devices on silent while they hosted. As soon as they were finished with their shift of the day however, Tom rushed to his dressing room to find you staring at the door with open arms.

"The interns told me you were waiting for me."

Saint Peter

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man would never admit it out loud, and if he did he would word it very carefully, but he loves it when its your time of the month. I mean he feels bad for you obviously; dealing with an inconvenience once a month even in your afterlife does not sound like any sort of blessing, but he's clingy and affectionate himself. And you clinging to him just as much? Oh it's like he's died and went to Heaven-again! Currently he lays on the couch with you in his arms, you both engulfing each other in a snuggly cuddle. He periodically checks the time-as much as he loves this he's still got a job to do. He voices this but quickly finds himself soothing you.

"I'm only going to work, sweetheart! P-please don't cry!"

This was supposed to be reader missing them but some of them became not exactly that and I’m sorry lol

I’ve had this in my drafts for a month, felt about right to finally post it. I’m also ashamed to admit, it took me way too long trynna figure out what to write for Tom’s dialogue. I love him but if I don’t know him as well as I thought 😭

[writingrock]

no hard feelings

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral) summary: you and your pro-hero boyfriend are enjoying date night until you bump into a talkative ex-classmate.

notes: fluff, funny bullshit, date night interrupted, katsuki is about to blow someone up, pro-hero katsuki

word count: 938

a/n: inspired by that one scene from 'no hard feelings' movie. I couldn't help but picture Katsuki in it.

Katsuki’s eyes twitched in annoyance as he watched you talk to your friend. An old friend who just happened to recognise you and wanted to catch up. Afterall, it's been so long.

A suppressed groan slipped out of his mouth as he took another long sip of the red wine. How long was this fucker going to stand over you and drag the conversation? Especially during his date night with you. Your boyfriend usually doesn’t mind some chatter, especially if you haven’t seen them in a while. But it has been twenty minutes of this bullshit.

His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as the conversation didn’t seem to end. Mainly because this loser kept opening his mouth. You were being polite to a high school classmate you haven’t seen in years. In truth, you wished this was over but weren’t sure how to end this conversation. You could appreciate a nice, small chat but this has definitely gone on long enough.

The pro-hero was getting annoyed as this continued, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glared daggers at this man. Is his off time being wasted by some douche who can’t shut up? Just when he thought this couldn’t get worse, this man proved to be a bigger idiot than initially perceived. 

“I don’t know what you’re doing later but there’s this reunion—” your past classmate pulled out his phone with such eagerness. Katsuki wanted to gag at the sight and blow this man up on the spot. He’s had enough. He was going to end it.

Clearing his throat, Katsuki redirects the attention to himself. The sound caused the both of you to turn to the pro-hero. Katsuki looked at you for a moment, noticing your facial expressions. Your expression was sending a message bordering between ‘please help end this’ and ‘be gentle’. Be gentle. As if. But for you, he would try.

“We have plans.” His piercing gaze narrowed at the unwelcome presence at dinner. His words are short, simple for a simpleton like him to understand. Katsuki’s tone was firm and carried a heavy weight to it. There was a fire within the blond that he had to hold back for you.

Thinking that would end it, he swiped the wine glass on the dinner table. Delicately tilting the glass to swirl the Bordeaux. Katsuki’s eyes stay on your friend who’s suddenly rather awkward and meek, letting his gaze spell out the obvious. Fuck off.

Imagine Katsuki’s surprise when your friend turned away to look back at you. Running away from the threat the pro hero posed. Heat rose in his chest. This little weasel. His fingers tighten on the stem of the wine glass. “Oh, but I can still send you the address- ” your friend tried to start, his fingers already swiped on the screen of his phone.

Ready to send you a text until your boyfriend cuts him off, “She didn’t bring her phone.” a lie but this shithead didn’t know that. Your phone was sitting snugly in your purse which Katsuki knew was on silent mode. You watched the scene play out in anticipation, letting your boyfriend take the reins on this situation. Plus, it was rather amusing to watch.

“Oh, I can give you the address.” Was this man dense? Did this dumbass really just offer to send the address to him? Irritation was plain obvious on Katsuki’s face. If his grip on the glass was any tighter, he might have broken it. His patience was thinning, turning into a ticking time bomb that was about to blow. The longer this continued, the faster the ticking went.

You could have sworn that you saw a vein pop on Katsuki’s forehead. Gritting his teeth, he swallows the burst of obscenities in his throat, forcing an amicable smile on his face. Though that smile looked nothing like sincere or friendliness. It simply looked like he was holding in the urge to yell at this past classmate of yours.

“No need.” he manages to give a short answer. On the edge of losing his cool over this idiot who’s being painfully oblivious and persistent to invite you to some reunion. Katsuki wondered what his deal was. Was he doing this on purpose to rile the pro-hero up? Because it sure as hell felt like it.

His intense gaze was burning with frustration. His lips loosening to unravel his bad temper if this kept going. You hoped for the safety of your past friend that he got the hint and would go before Katsuki blew a fuse. And knowing your boyfriend, he’s nearly there.

“Can’t hurt to have it— ” Katsuki slammed the wine glass onto the table, causing it to wobble slightly. The plates and silverware clattered slightly as he let out a deep exhale. The wine swayed in its glass. Your friend is cut off by the sudden slam.

Honestly, Katsuki didn’t even mean to slam the glass onto the table. He had underestimated how hard he was gripping the glass. How utterly pissed he was.

“Might hurt.” a nasty snarl paired with his sudden aggression was finally the trigger that clarified that he’s overstayed. Your past classmate finally realised that he’s being asked to fuck off. Which he does so quietly, squeaking a small apology as he scurried out of the restaurant.

You look at your boyfriend with a smile before bursting into laughter. Katsuki’s grip finally loosens on the wine glass. His hand on his temple, rubbing away the pent up anger he felt. That was aggravating.

“He’s super nice isn’t he?”

“He was about to be blown up.”

a/n: hope you enjoyed this! needed to write something small because I've been working on bigger fics. Not proofread !

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part 4: Sylus

Summary: You and Sylus are strolling through the park and see a kid get hurt, you both step in to help him, but Sylus may be a little too scary for this kid.

a/n: I love making Sylus do embarrassing things. It's just too funny to me. he'll do anything for MC even tho he tries to act like he doesn't care

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 637

Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3

You and Sylus were taking a stroll in a park enjoying each other's company when “ouch” a little boy tripped over some rocks right in front of you on the path. He didn’t immediately get up which made you both concerned.

“Child are you ok” Sylus bent down to tend to the boy. The boy looked up and saw Sylus looking down at him with his red eyes and started to cry. Sylus froze, he didn’t know what to do now that this kid was crying. The normally cool under-pressure boss of the N109 zone was now suddenly rendered speechless by one child’s tears.

“Sylus you’re scaring him,” you say and push his chest to move him out of the way

“I simply asked if he was alright, is that all it takes to scare some people nowadays?” he asked sarcastically.

You bent down to see what was wrong. “Hun are you ok, that was a pretty big fall wasn’t it?” the child looked at you and stopped crying, softly shaking his head yes still with tears in his eyes. “Aww, it's ok, do you need help getting up” You slowly lift him into a standing position which is when you notice that he has a small cut on his arm. “Oh no did you get cut?” The child looks at his arm, tears start to form once again. You don’t want him to start crying again so thinking on your feet you quickly look through your purse for something that could help him. You take out some band-aids with cute heart designs on them and a bottle of water. 

“Look my two friends showed up Mr. Water and Mrs. Band-aid” You hand Sylus the water giving him a desperate look hoping he’ll play along “We’re here to help you,” you say in an enthusiastic funny voice while holding up the band-aid. The kid started to laugh a little. You looked up at Sylus who was standing over you, pleading with your eyes for him to join in. 

He sighs, bends down and in an equally funny but less enthusiastic voice says, “Yeah we’re here to help so don’t cry anymore.” the kid wipes his tears and laughs a little more.

Continuing in your funny voice you say “Can Mr.Water take a look at your arm” The kid nods and holds out his arm. It's just a little scratch with a small amount of blood. Sylus quickly assesses his arm and pours a small amount of water on the child's arm and wipes it up with a tissue from your bag. “there now that you’re all clean up it’s time for Mrs. Band-aid to take over” 

You place the band-aid over his scratch and wipe the last of his tears away “There, all better now?” you say in your regular voice. 

The kid looks at you then at Sylus and smiles. “Mmm hmm, thanks” a voice from a few feet away calls out for the kid, he turns, noticing it’s his mother he takes off in that direction shouting. “Mama a pretty lady and a scary man helped me when I fell over, they were really nice!”

You look at Sylus and almost burst out laughing

He puts a finger over your mouth. “Don’t start. I give up my dignity to help this child and he still calls me scary?” Sylus crosses his arms in fake annoyance.   

You remove his finger from your mouth “Well I guess that's what happens when you’re the big bad Onichynus leader, kids will always be scared of you” You say with a mischievous grin. As you continue your walk.

Sylus grabs you by your waist and turns you to look at him “Well let's go home and see if the ones we make won't be as scared as he was.”

[am-i-interrupting]

Soooooo Silco requests 🫣? Canon Silco x reader headcanons maybe? I just need all your thoughts on that old man tbh! PRETTY PLEASE i’ll be your best friend

General Headcanons

He’s not particularly jealous because he knows you’re loyal to him.

This does not stop him from putting a hand on your waist, the small of your back, or even wrapping his hand around your own when he feels someone overstep.

If you wear rings, he is fiddling with them, twisting them, pulling them off your fingers and idly (not even looking) seeing which rings will fit on which finger.

This habit would make it easy for him to swipe a ring if he ever needed to for sizing purposes.

He loves an alternative look. Yes, he can find beauty in softer colors and clothing but if you’re wearing black makeup with a spiked jacket and marked up combat boots he’s all over that shit.

He will almost always have his fingertips drift over your shoulders or against your hand or waist while he’s walking by.

If you’re in his way, he has no qualms gripping the curve from your waist to your hip and just moving you.

He primarily smells of cigar smoke and his breath of whiskey or rum but when he’s showing up or off, he’ll put on a dab of cologne which smells slightly citrusy.

Your drinks at the bar are obviously free.

He enjoys reading aloud to you.

He’ll do this with anything from books to payrolls.

He especially loves to do it to make you smile because he will put a bit of sarcastic poshness to his voice when he’s reading something from certain chem barons.

He does like to dress you like a doll from time to time.

He lets you do the same to him.

He’ll never admit it but he loves physical touch.

There’s few people he let touch him. Sevika when the need arises. Jinx. You. That’s it.

He does have nightmares occasionally.

He never wakes up screaming. He always just opens his eyes as the scene dissipates. When he turns his head to see you, he calms a bit. Those nights you’ll wake with him curled around you.

He adores seeing you get riled up.

At least once there was a chem baron meeting called when you were supposed to go out on a date night.

He still thinks about the look on everyone’s face when only twenty minutes in your burst open the door and silently strode over to him, plopped yourself in his lap and glared at the baron who called the meeting. It was over fifteen minutes later.

Days dedicated to being with Jinx are also essential.

He knew you were the one when Jinx asked one day if you would join them next time.

Family nights of eating food together and shit talking people make his life worth living and reminds him just why he’s fighting the fight.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (3/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"I am unable to control her. I can see in her gaze that she despises me. She doesn't understand that the cause is bigger than her or me." He whispered, looking blankly at the cream-coloured curtain behind which people were moving, their moans and sighs loud, pathetic, foreign.

Madam hummed with understanding, combing his hair with her fingers, her thighs where his head lay warm and soft.

"She is certainly frightened and lonely. A woman, unlike a man, has few options for resistance. Like any human being, she longs for freedom, my Prince." She said calmly, as if speaking to a small child, trailing her fingertips down his bare back.

He swallowed hard, feeling that the poppy milk he had drunk just a moment ago had begun to take effect, relaxing him, the pain in his eye socket finally subsiding, allowing him to breathe.

"We all want to be free. I understand it, but I cannot be weak. I protect my family." He whispered and closed his eyes – he felt the frustration of hearing Madam open her mouth, wanting to say more.

"Enough." He commanded coolly and she fell silent, tense, her trembling hand still trailing over his naked body.

He felt tears full of shame under his eyelids at the thought that he had confided in a whore.

As usual, as he walked back from her to the Red Keep, looking under his feet, he felt embarrassment and discouragement, emptiness and fatigue.

Daemon's daughter had a charisma that apparently made Vhagar listen to her, so they practised on her the way she gave commands.

Looking at her from the side, he had the impression that she stood beside him with only her body – her dark eyes remained blank, her face, her words, her gaze never directed towards him.

While some people dreamed of touching or riding a dragon, of being in the very company of these mystical beasts, she seemed indifferent to it – even though Vhagar listened to her like an obedient dog, she never tried to come closer, to touch her, to establish a relationship with her, as if the fact that she had to do this was beneath her dignity.

He hated her for despising what was most precious to him.

He hated her, but he needed her.

He stepped into his chamber through one of the hidden passages of the fortress and pulled off his cloak, tossing it carelessly onto his bed. He furrowed his brow as he saw that the books that had lain on the table earlier were scattered on the ground.

Someone was in his chamber, he thought with fury.

He froze as he heard screaming and crying, growing louder and louder, the guards one by one began to run down the corridor towards the chamber of his sister and her children.

He moved there, feeling anxiety, his heart in his throat as he entered the room and saw his mother kneeling over the bed of his nephew, his headless body looking like a doll.

He fell to his knees not knowing how else he was supposed to react to what he was seeing, feeling like he couldn't catch his breath, the screams and wails of his mother pressing her face against the boy's body so loud he felt like his skull was going to burst.

He was with a whore when they did it.

With a whore.

"What happened? What's the commotion?" He heard his brother's voice as he rushed into the chamber half drunk, staggering, stopping between him and his mother.

He watched as the expression on his face changed from shock and disbelief to despair, as a drawn-out, high-pitched, inhuman whine broke from his throat, followed by a sob, honest and full of suffering.

"– Jaehaerys –" He cried, whooping with tears, trying to touch him, but their mother pushed him away, shaking her head.

"– Aegon, please, leave, don't look at it –"

"– Jaehaerys – oh, gods, my boy, my sweet, sweet, little boy –" He babbled, dropping to his knees next to him, snuggling into their mother's womb, his hands clenched on her gown, a howl coming from his mouth as if someone had slit his insides with a knife.

He could feel his knee twitching in nervous reflex under the table, the wave of thoughts running over his mind making him feel dulled, hearing as if through a fog what was happening in the Small Council room.

His nephew was dead.

They had murdered Jaehaerys because they had not found him in his chamber.

He had been with a whore instead of defending his family.

He was next in line for the throne.

His nephew was dead.

A small, sweet, polite boy.

His children could sit on the Iron Throne.

"– bring me that whore – it's her fault – she certainly helped her father –" Aegon exclaimed, hitting the table top with his fist, his face all red and swollen from tears.

"– the guards went to her quarters, Your Grace – but I don't think she –" Criston Cole didn't finish as the door to the chamber opened and she was led inside like a prisoner.

It was apparent that she had been snatched from a deep sleep, her hair in a slight disarray, a thin brown robe thrown over her nightgown.

Aegon stood up, moving at her like a wild animal, Criston Cole and their mother had to restrain him, grabbing his arms to prevent him from killing her with his own hands.

"– WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU FUCKING WHORE – WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON? –" He shouted, and she shook her head, shocked, looking at him with wide eyes, confusion in her expression.

She had no idea what had happened, he thought.

He knew she had nothing to do with it.

His spies were watching her day and night.

"– I don't understand –" She muttered.

"– the royal heir, my Lady – our king's son was bestially murdered in front of his poor mother – the boy's head was cut off – we suspect this is your father's revenge for the death of Lucerys Velaryon –" Tyland Lannister said, glancing at her uncertainly.

It was the first time he had seen her in such a state – her eyebrows arched in pain, as if this news had truly broken her, her dark eyes large and filled with sadness, her mouth parted wide in an expression of helplessness.

"– I have nothing to do with this – gods, I swear –" She mumbled, shaking her head, his brother screaming in rage.

"– LIAR! –"

"– she's telling the truth –" He said forcing himself to be calm, running his fingers across the table top.

His brother froze, looking at him suddenly, his gaze such as if he had realised something. He pulled himself out of the arms of Criston Cole and their mother, walking slowly towards him, his heart in his throat with terror.

"– and you, brother? – where were you, our protector, when they murdered my little son? – hm? –" He asked in a trembling voice, his eyes glazed over with tears.

He pressed his lips together, trying not to burst into sobs, to remain calm, unable to bear the shame that filled his heart.

"– with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to? – with your second mummy when they cut my boy's head off? –" He shouted in his face, and he felt a single, lonely tear run down his cheek.

"– and you, Cole? –" His brother continued, turning abruptly the other way, leaving him with his humiliating words, heavy tears full of guilt one after another running down his cheeks. "– where the fuck have you been? –"

"– in my bed, my King –"

"– IN YOUR BED? – IN YOUR BED INSTEAD OF WATCHING OVER MY WIFE AND CHILDREN! –" He wailed, barely staying on his feet, finally burying his face in his hands, their mother embraced him to calm him down.

"– get out –" He cried out finally. "– GET OUT – GET OUT – GET OUT –"

He shouted, so they all stood up – as he walked out, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that she was looking at him, her dark, warm gaze full of compassion he so despised.

The next day the funeral took place, his mother and sister, led by the dead body of his nephew, moved in procession through the streets of King's Landing, showing their subjects the cruelty of the heiress to the throne.

He watched them from behind the walls, feeling an emptiness, wondering if, had he not gone out that night, he would have saved him, or if he himself would have died then.

He felt both relief that it had not been him and regret that it was his nephew who had paid the price.

"Your Highness. She is already in your chamber, as you ordered." Said one of the guards, and he merely nodded and walked back into the fortress.

When he walked into his quarters indeed, his cousin was inside and she jumped up, hearing his rapid footsteps. He passed her without a word and settled over the map, spreading his hand over it.

"There are several places where wild dragons have been seen. One of those places is the Vale." He said, placing one of the gold coins in that spot.

"I've heard of it." She whispered, her voice frustratingly soft. "The farmers complained that it devours their flocks, sheep and pigs."

He nodded his head without looking at her, taking his cup in his hand, drinking wine from the morning, heedless of how early it was.

"This is our first target. The other ones are too close to Rhaenyra. We can't risk them discovering our plan. We will fly there on Vhagar." He said, sitting down in the chair, pressing the cup to his lips, the slightly tart and sweet taste of the wine melting on his tongue.

He looked at her, hearing her silence.

The light of the sun illuminated her graceful, girlish figure, her full lips shone as brightly as her eyes, her expression unexpectedly gentle.

He was sure she would say something that would enrage him, offer him condolences, or worse, begin to pity and console him, trying to step into the role of his mother.

That she would try use what she had heard about him to manipulate him.

"More wine?" She asked.

He sighed, feeling some kind of relief, and nodded, extending his hand with the goblet to her.

She walked slowly to the table, took the silver jug from it and leaned over him, filling his cup fully; looking at her in this position, smelling her pleasant scent, he could see the soft outline of her plump breasts under her gown.

His soft length swelled and throbbed in his breeches against his will as he thought about his tongue rolling around her hard, puffy nipples.

Because of this, because of the moment of relief, because of the woman's touch, he lost his guard and led to tragedy.

"We leave tomorrow at first light."

Silence.

"I want to ask you something, cousin. And I know you won't like it." She said in a trembling voice, standing over him with the jug in her hands.

He froze in mid-motion, raising the wine cup to his lips, staring dully ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He snorted, finally taking a deep, draughty sip, feeling the alcohol slowly begin to dull his senses.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly and he sighed heavily, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"What do you want?"

She was silent for a long moment, standing over him, he heard her swallow hard.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered with sincere, childish shame, infuriating him.

I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked, unable to look her in the face, for some reason feeling aroused, his erection pulsed as he imagined her beneath the young man, moaning in pleasure.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat, a disturbing idea filling his head.

He thought it was certainly the fault of the amount of wine he had drunk.

The fact that he needed to vent after what had happened, the humiliation he had experienced.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force." He replied at last, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze evidently told her what he was thinking of, for her words left her lips without hesitation.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said, and he grinned in a way from which she swallowed hard.

"It will."

There was something absurd and unreal about how, on the day of his nephew's funeral, when everyone was in mourning, he had walked by her side in the Red Keep, letting her pick the ripest, sweetest apple.

Her cool, almost disgust-filled approach to his inheritance made him treat his original idea of marrying her with reserve, and this way he could have something on her that he could use against her in the future.

If the need arose.

She had found out something about him against his will, and now he was going to use his advantage.

She paused, looking between the cloisters at one of the young men talking to a member of the Kingsguard, with golden, beautiful curls and bright eyes, his pearly laughter spreading around them.

She blinked, glancing over her shoulder at him, as if asking his opinion, and he wondered if this was how the gossiping ladies of the court felt.

"This is Tyland Lannister's servant. His distant relative. A bastard." He explained, looking at her indifferently. He saw that she pressed her lips together, as if she was thinking hard about something.

"Can he be trusted?" She asked, and he chuckled under his breath and shook his head, sighing in disbelief.

"Will your secret be safe with him? No."

Did she really believe that the entire Red Keep wouldn't find out about what she had done?

That the ladies of the court and the lords would not call her a shameless whore?

He blinked and led her away with a glance, seeing that she had simply moved ahead. He stood and watched in disbelief as she walked up to the two men and began to speak to them.

They both laughed, glancing at him as if she had said something amusing about him and he pressed his lips into a thin line at the thought.

Cunt.

After a while, the knight left them, and she was left alone with the boy who had piqued her attention. He leaned over her as if he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes big, his mouth twitching in a smile full of disbelief.

Had she just told him what she wanted to do?

Just like that, without any forethought or embarrassment.

The man bowed to her and escorted her away with a curious look as she returned to him, throwing him a calm look full of self-satisfaction.

"He agreed. He said I am beautiful." She said.

"You're a fool." He replied coldly.

She blinked and smiled warmly in a way from which he felt discomfort.

"Come."

He didn't understand what he was doing there – didn't understand why he was looking at them from afar like a shadow, why he was watching as his hands wandered over her cheeks and neck, as his lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on her lips.

"Do it slowly," she said, and he obeyed, not caring too much about his presence, eager to please her and to experience fulfilment himself.

He saw her flinch as his hand travelled to her breasts under the thin material of her gown, her fingers tightening on his wrist.

"– no –" He heard her whisper, her eyes closed, her head thrown back as if she was trying to relax. "– not yet –"

He was ashamed that he had been hard; he was ashamed that he had had to sit in a chair with his legs crossed so it wouldn't be visible. He was ashamed that he took some sick satisfaction from what he was looking at, knowing that he would be able to use it against her.

He swallowed hard as her eyes opened suddenly, her gaze finding his face and remaining fixed on him as the boy's lips sank into her neck again and again.

She sighed as he pressed her against the bed with his body, growing more and more aroused and impatient, her fingers clenched on his tunic in some helpless gesture, her doe eyes shining from tears of discomfort.

"– slow down –" He commanded, and the man raised his head and looked at him, breathing heavily, shocked.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated, looking at her, her full lips parted slightly, in her gaze the pain and heat from which he felt his cock swell all over his breeches, the wine humming in his head, filling his body with a pleasant warmth.

He felt the satisfaction of seeing that when the boy returned to his caresses, treating her more gently, running his hands down her waist, her gaze did not leave him, fixed on him.

He was sure for some reason that she would ask him to join them.

That she didn't really want this pathetic, simple boy who barely kept his cock in his trousers at all.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed him and saw that her eyes grew big as she swallowed hard, looking up at her lover who, in one sure movement, lifted the skirt of her gown, slipping his hand under it.

She moaned as he touched her there and closed her eyes for a brief moment, but after a while her brow arched in some kind of uncomfortable expression, her hips swung back as if she were running away from him.

He was doing it too fast, without affection, without finesse, rushing to his own fulfilment and he was not surprised, but that was not the purpose of this whole farce.

Indeed, she could have burned in the dragon's fire, and the fact that she was just about to experience what a man's peak was was hardly what she had imagined.

He wondered if he should intervene, recognising that she wanted it herself.

And then he saw his hand slide down to his breeches and he simply rose from his seat.

"– step back, boy –" He snarled, approaching them lazily.

The boy rose and moved away, shocked as was his cousin, leaning on her elbows, her dark eyes big and shining, her cheeks and lips parted in a drawn-out breath red with emotion.

She sighed as he grabbed her around the waist and moved her so that he sat behind her back, placing his legs on either side of her body, pulling her close so she could feel on her ass what she had done to him.

How fucking hard he was because of her and her idea.

His fingers ran over her neck and tilted her head so that she rested her back against his shoulder, his nose pressed against her hot, fragrant, sweaty cheek as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, lowering her skirts and smallclothes.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over her bare skin, stroking the silky structure of the inside of her thigh with his palm, as if he wanted to reassure her and prepare her for what was about to happen.

"– what? –" She muttered quietly, tense, in some involuntary, helpless reflex reaching her hand back, clasping it softly in his hair.

The man swallowed hard, sensing already, probably subconsciously, that he would not regain control of the situation and could not hope for fulfilment.

Good, he thought.

There was no reason why he should fill her with his worthless seed or take her maidenhood.

"– easy –" He whispered in her ear, running his thumb over her jawline, her thigh quivering in his embrace. "– let me take care of this –"

He said and nodded, ordering the boy to obey his command. The man swallowed and leaned in, her hips moving backwards in a subconscious reflex, wanting to protect herself, but they met his body, pressing against his rock-hard length.

Her lips parted in shock as she moaned suddenly, apparently feeling the man's tongue deep inside her, while his hand slid from her thigh to her sticky, swollen folds, seeking her puffy bud.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled, clenching her fingers tighter in his white hair, his hands from her jaw slipping under the fabric of her gown, sinking slowly into the soft, plump skin of her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said dryly, his last words directed at the man thrusting between her throbbing slit with his tongue.

She threw her head back with a girlish, sweet moan as the man sped up, the tips of their noses touching as his forehead pressed against hers.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He gasped encouragingly, knowing exactly what he wanted to do to her, feeling her body squirm in his embrace in pure ecstasy.

He could take Daemon's place by her side.

To be her protector, the man in whom she would seek refuge.

She gasped as his thumb began to tease her hard nipple in an offhanded manner, the fingers of his other hand digging lazily into her leaking cunt in circular motions, securing her path to fulfilment to the accompaniment of the loud clicks of the boy's saliva between her thighs.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, feeling that his fingers were all sticky from her wetness. She shook her head quickly, moaning at the same time, slowly losing touch with reality.

He didn't even notice when he started panting himself, rolling his hips back and forth, rubbing his manhood between her buttocks, feeling the tightness in his stones testifying that he himself was fully aroused.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He breathed out, and she moaned and shook her head, raising her big, tear-filled eyes at him, her face smooth and bright up close, her eyelashes long and black, as beautiful as her lips and eyebrows arched in indecision.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out, and after a moment he felt her body shake in convulsion, her lips parted wide as she cried out in pleasure, rocking her hips into the strokes of his fingers, his other hand kneading her soft breast like dough.

"– that's what I thought – just like that – easy now –" He hummed, letting his forehead last pressed against hers while she trembled all over, giving her a sense of reassurance. He watched with some kind of warmth as she panted heavily with her eyes closed, tears of shame, horror and fulfilment flowing down her red, sweaty cheeks.

"You may leave." He commanded, glancing sideways out of the corner of his eye at her pathetic lover. "If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out."

The man rose from between her thighs, all red with exertion, wiped his chin and lips and climbed off the bed, his long, hard erection clearly outlined in his trousers.

He smirked under his breath at the sight of it, concentrating on her accelerated breathing, on her hot, wet womanhood pulsing under his fingers, on her soft breast on which he simply held his hand, not moving, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

He let her turn in his embrace, let her snuggle into his body, let her throw her arms around his neck, lingering with her like this, spread out comfortably on the pillow behind his back, feeling his hard manhood push against her stomach again and again.

He stroked her soft, long hair, thinking with tenderness that he now had her in his grasp.

______

Author's note: I know that in my requests I don't allow requests for triangles in my stories and I never write them because I just don't like them, but when I came up with this idea here my brain was like:………. And you have what you have. Let's just say that this is a tiny break of my rule for you, my dear readers.

[alexa-fika]

Could i please request a fem!child!reader who's picked up swearing with the whitebeard pirates?

Reader sorta knows what it means but also doesn't,

Also flips people off mid convo, (doesn't know what means but thinks it's funny.)

And when she gets angry/annoyed she is kinda a savage, like I can imagine reader with ace (and any other characters) then a group of pirates starts threatening them but reader is just going ham with the insults.

Puppy Escapes ( Shanks x gn!reader x Whitebeard pirates)

Part 1 ( Can also be read as a stand alone)

A/N I am combining these two requests, I kinda change some buts since I would be crushed if Dokucha actually rejected their families love so they came back with something else knstead! Iy’all seemef to like the first one so hopefully you like this one to, I think I COOKED just like Shanks is gonna be COOKED 😂

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drink the sky and @/firefly-graphics

Shanks stared owlishly at the child before them, having just found them in one of the many crow-nests that composed the Red force.

"Boss, what is it?" he heard Lucky call from the ship's Deck.

"My doom," he replied morbidly, fully jumping into the crow's nest and kneeling down next to the child who had the courtesy of at least looking remorseful.

"Dokuchaaaa," he called, stretching the last syllables of their name as they noticed them trying to avoid his stare.

The child, who by now had turned into a flustered mess, both at the fact that they had been busted and that they had gotten busted by the man with whom they were infatuated.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see Mister Shanks again," they mutter.

Shanks lets out a huff but cannot help to give the child a slight grin.

"Your brothers banned you from seeing me again?" he asked, letting out a small laugh as they nodded sadly.

"You know they really won't be happy with this."

"I don't care! Big brothers were being meanies! I just wanted to see Mister Shanks, but they won't let me! I hate them!" they exclaimed

"Come on, Dokucha, I know you don't mean that, do ya?"

"No... I don't," they sniffled.

"It's okay, I know you love your brothers; they love you too. They just worry for you."

"I love them b-but I also love Mister Shanks," they called as they burst into tears and ran towards the man.

"There, There, it's alright," he whispered as he patted the child's back, calming them down as he made his way down the crow's nest, the child held tightly in his hands.

"Come on now, why are you crying?"

"B-Because I said that I hated my brothers! I didn't mean it! I love them so much!" They sobbed

Shanks let a small snicker at their troubles as he continued to rub their back.

"They're gonna be mad at Mister Shanks now, and I won't be able to see you!"

"Already breaking hearts, boss?" Yassop merrily called, letting another belly laugh as his Captain just rolled his eyes at his statement

"Listen, Dokucha, don't worry about that. We will get something figured out, but for now, how about you enjoy your time here? What do you say? Want to be my assistant today?"

They rubbed their eyes furiously at their statement, trying to erase the remains of their previous outbursts, a few rogue sniffles still escaping them, much to their chagrin.

"I get to be Mister Shanks's Assistant?"

"Think you're up for it?" he questioned, lowering them to the floor and continuing to hold their hand.

"Yes, I'm up for anything that Mister Shanks asks of me!" They happily agreed

"Hear that, Beck? I got me an assistant, and they actually appreciate me."

Said man, rolled his eyes as he shook the ashes from the tip of his cigarette, bringing it back to his lips and glancing at the pair

"Better escape while you can; that one right there is a hassle. Too high-maintenance"

"Hah?!"

"Yes, But he's a handsome hassle!" Dokucha piped back with a grin as they hugged his much larger hand against their cheek.

"O-Oi, are you insulting me or complimenting me here?!" Shanks cried

-

"Now you've done it, Akagami!" Ace growls, jumping into the Red Force, followed promptly by Thatch once it had pulled closer to the Moby Dick

"I don't care if you're my brother's savior; you're not getting away with stealing my baby sibling!"

"Now, Now it was just a misunderstanding," He calls a laidback smile on his face as the young men stomp his way.

"Like hell it was!" Ace hollers, reeling a fire-filled fist.

"Brother Portgas D Ace!" Dokucha calls, halting the man on his step

"Oh, Looks like you're in trouble now," Shanks calls, covering his snickers with his hand as the child marched to the nervous fire user.

"Don't you dare hurt Mister Shanks!"

"Why not Dokucha?! This creep stole you from us," Thatch cried.

"Because you'll damage his pretty face!"

"That's the only reason?!" Shanks exclaimed mortified

"Of course not, Mister Shanks! it's because I love Mister Shanks!" They exclaimed, running his way and attaching themselves to his leg, much to the horror of the two commanders

"I'm not sure if that makes it better," he huffs out.

"Dokucha..." Thatch cries, falling on his knees as tears begin to fall down his face comically

"I think this time my heart is really broken," he sobs.

"Hey, Dokucha, I will see you later, okay? It's time to go back now," he murmurs as he kneels beside the kid.

" B-But I don't want to leave Mister Shanks," They cried, their tiny hands clenching into fists as small tears began to pool at the edge of their eyes.

"I will see you again, okay? I think your brothers really need you now."

"They need me?" they questioned, glancing at the irate Ace and a still knelt Thatch.

"Of course, they need someone to keep them in line, think you can do that? It's your next task as my assistant."

"Leave it to me, Mister Shanks!" they exclaimed, wiping off their tears as a determined look appeared on their face.

"Atta Kid," He cheered, rubbing their head.

"I will see you soon, okay?"

"Like We will let that fucking happen" Thach growls pulling out his swords

"Alright, enough of this," A voice cuts in

"Akagami, please return our sibling to us, Ace; Thatch, we're done here," Marco orders as he lands on the ship's bow, causing the Red Force to sink slightly, bouncing back to the waves as it tried to withstand the sudden arrival.

"Ah, Marco, it's not too late, you know; how about you join me and bring your sibling with you."

"Screw off, Red-haired," he answered scowling as the Captain just sent a grin his way, giving his last goodbyes to the small kid as they ran to the Chef, who hugged them tightly, rubbing their cheeks together ask he continued repeating how much they missed them as he made his way back to their galleon.

-

"You are grounded."

"But Papaw!" they whine, looking up at the old giant.

"Not buts. You are grounded for a week, and that is final. For the following week, you will be accompanied by either me or one of your brothers at all times."

"But that's so fucking unfair!"

"..."

"..."

"MY BABY, they tainted you!!" Thatch cried, shaking the child with tears cascading down his face

"Brother Thatch?" they question, confused, their mind becoming dizzy at the motion.

"Stop it, you idiot," Marco called, hitting the back of Thatc's head, causing the latter to release Dokucha only to turn to him with a scowl.

"Damn you, Marco! Let me lament myself; they have tarnished their pure heart," he cried, throwing himself on the ground once again.

"...I'm going to kill him. I am going to roast him alive and give the fishes a barbecued meal of a lifetime," Ace growled.

"What the hell is going on?" Dokucha cried.

"Dokucha, stop," Marco called a stern tone in his voice.

"You brat, where did you learn those words from? Was it from Akagami's crew?"

"Ah? I heard Mister Shanks say those words-

"Ace. Let's prepare for that barbecue. I will have them fillet for this," The Chef murmured, a dark aura surrounding him.

"But since Big Brothers say them a lot, I thought it was okay..."

"..."

"Dokucha, who exactly did you hear say those words?" Whitebeard asked, a glare in his eye as he questioned them

"Big brother Thatch and Big brother Ace!" they cheered.

"..."

"Dokucha. Will you go find Vista for now? Do not leave his side; you are still grounded, Marco called, watching as they stomped off with a pout on their face.

"Assholes," They mutter.

"Keep it up. You just earned another week of being grounded," Marco called.

"But Brother Marco, I don't know what words I can't say!"

"We will continue this discussion later. For now, if you don't know what it means, then you don't say it understood."

"Okay.." they mutter, walking away to find the swordsman.

"Marco, make sure you have the clinic ready," Whitebeard called as he glared down the two wide-eyed and sweating commanders.

"Will do pops."

"Ah-wait..wait a second Pops-

That day screaming and pleas for mercy from the two commanders reverberated across the sea, reaching the ears of the Red Force vessel as they departed from the Moby Dick's location.

"Hmm, looks like that old man found out who was responsible for the child's colorful language," hums Shanks as he leans back on the chair he laid on, downing a cup of sake as he did.

Here we go! Guess Shanks is not the only one getting Cooked! Good thing they have a express healer on watch! Thatch and Ace will definitely need them!

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[pumpkinbxtch]

Hi!! Idk if this is against ur guidelines but would you be okay with doing hcs for aftercare w Jason Grace? I love your writing sm and I love my heroes of olympus boys 😔🙏❤️

ᬊ jason grace | aftercare headcanons

☆ radiostar is playin': my girl by the temptations...!

warnings: sexual references, aged up (as everything in my writings) a/n: Heyyy, YES. this kind of content is accepted in my rules, which you can read here — rules. thank you sm for your cutie words 🥹🫶🏻 and thanks for passing by my blog! — kisses from Jupiter 💙

Jason is one of the best at aftercare because he's an amazing lover and boyfriend, no more to argue about.

Whatever position you end up in, he carefully slides out of you, not wanting to hurt you.

He's probably feeling a bit too much, just like you, so the first thing he does is ask if you're okay, without hugging you yet to avoid overwhelming you.

It's only when he sees that you're fine that he cuddles with you for a few moments while your breaths regulate and your hearts stop threatening to burst out of your chests.

And as soon as he feels a bit better, he'll be checking on you. He'll run his fingers through the hair on your neck and give you sweet kisses. "Are you okay?" he asks in his husky voice while stroking your bare shoulder.

It's so cute because he treats you like a delicate piece of glass after nearly breaking you in two and just telling you the dirtiest things, but you live for those two sides of him because damn, he's hot, right?

Jason always thinks about the type of aftercare you'll need depending on how you're feeling afterward. Some days he knows you need some time alone after reaching your orgasm and coming back to yourself, while other times you need to cuddle with him until you both fall asleep.

Jason has many things planned; for example, he'll have supplies ready, so after kissing your cheek, he'll put on his boxers and go get water or snacks for you. He helps you sit up in bed and brushes your hair away from your face.

He loves seeing your sleepy face and the sleepiness in it, as well as how flushed is.

He can't help but give you delicate kisses, trying not to overstimulate you again.

He also shows his concern in words, asking or saying sweet things like "Is my girl tired?" "You're so cute" "Come on, honey, drink some water."

He'll also ask if he crossed any boundaries with you. "Was I too rough?" You just shake your head, and he smiles.

"Come on, let's clean you up," and he carries you to the bathroom when you're feeling better. Literally like a feather, no matter how heavy you think you are, he can carry you.

Some days you both shower together, and other times he waits outside the bathroom while you shower. Maybe he'll be changing the sheets and tidying up the bed so you can rest better afterward.

You have your clothes in his place for moments like this, but still, Jason always prefers to give you one of his sweaters; he loves seeing you in them.

That man will cook for you and bring it to bed.

Once you're both changed, clean, and you've eaten something, you can finally cuddle up and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

Kisses and caresses.

Him humming while he strokes your hair.

You resting your head on his chest and him holding you tight.

Small "I love yous" whispered in your ear and hugs.

Until you both fall asleep.

This sometimes changes, but it's always Jason paying attention to your needs at that moment, because for him, you're his whole world.

[dragonbabes]

Ok this might be cheesy but in my Crow!Rook play-through, I’ve had Lucanis on my team since we yoinked him out of the Ossuary. I have done quite a bit since then, and have now finally decided to give the man a damn break. My brain, dreamer that it is, took the thought and ran.

Rook leaves with Davrin and Bellara. Lucanis thinks now he has time to sit and catch up on the missives from contacts he’s let pile up, maybe try that new brew Teia got him as a “welcome-back-from-the-dead” present.

But as he works, he finds his gaze trailing toward the door of the dining hall, expecting to catch sight of that lopsided grin — one that makes his heart forget itself and stutter — burst through the doors. He’s gotten use to the sound of Rook, it seems. He enjoys some quiet with his coffee, anyway.

Sighing down into the seat at the fire, the assassin inhales that warm, rich coffee frangrence rising with the steam. He gives it a light swirl; a very light, practiced movement of his wrist. His brow pinches slightly at the sharp pain racing up his arm, the result of a nasty blow from a hurlock and a sloppy block on his part.

Rook was quick to take the hurlocks attention with a precisely aimed arrow that had embedded itself in the hurlocks throat… He’d expected the dark spawn to fall over, but it charged the younger crow.

The fight was brutal — Lucanis shudders at what would’ve happened if all the darkspawn they put down that day would’ve gotten into Minrathous’ streets — and Rook, he remembers, took a few blows themselves.

The cup pauses just as it touches Lucanis’ lips. Trouble finds Rook… Or perhaps it’s Rook who finds it (maybe they’re one and the same). What sort of trouble has that reckless assassin found this time? Will Davrin know to keep an eye on Rook’s left, which they always leave open?

Is Rook cutting it too damn close right now? As he sits there, hesitating to drink his perfect brew, Rook could be fighting. Could be bleeding.

Could be loosing.

“Where is Rook?” Spite asks.

And all Lucanis can manage is a quiet response, nearly a mumble as the flicker of the fires flames consume him while that feeling — the feeling of a hand around his throat, tightening, heart moving from a flutter at the thought of Rook to an aching thud — is consuming his chest, “I don’t know.”

Rook has made it this far without him. They’re strong; the strongest he’s ever known. And with a beautiful smile, too. A dimple that forms in their cheeks, and a curve of their eye to illuminate that mischievous spark. A laugh, strong and sweet, like the feeling of the sun hitting his face for the first time after leaving the Ossuary… The only reason he is out of that hellhole -

“You gonna drink that?” Hardings voice snaps him from the flames. Her brow raises and her mouth wobbles with a smirk, “You’ve been staring at the fire like that for minutes.”

“Ah, I was lost in thought.” He disarms her with a quick smile. A delicious brew will make a person think. He will miss the taste when he finds the bottom of the cup. Which he will. It’s inevitable.

All delicious things come to an end.

Lucanis takes a small sip…

Anyways that’s what I started thinking about before I entered the crossroads… I’m gonna go recruit Taash now 💕

[awordsmith]

fingertips 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer constantly have had accidental moments over the years that always meant more to one than the other thought.

katcember

who? spencer reid x bau!reader when? s7 category: fluff content warnings: proofed! reader kidnapping, mentions of torture, constant flashbacks, yes sarcastic sarcasm is intentional, hidden feelings, tension, no smut (I'm working my way up to that one), reid with warmth word count: 9k a/n: ahhhhh, i just created a community radio (it can be found on my masterlist or pinned page) so feel free to send in song requests to be added! enjoy!

Your breath coated the window of the coffee shop, fogging it. You wiped it with your sleeve, waiting for Spencer to get back from ordering your drinks. The dim yellow light lit up the shop with a soft, mild glow; it was late, most sane people would be at home by now.

The bustling in the background caught your attention and your gaze caught on Spencer, still standing in line. He'd asked you to meet him here a few days ago, when you were working on your last case before your small–unavoidable–break. It was Christmas Eve. It was Christmas Eve and he had asked you to meet him days prior. He had every second to cancel, to change the date... Sitting here now, you knew–without a doubt–you were about to have a conversation long over due.

It made you think about how it all had gotten started, all your firsts, and when you knew you'd always love him more than a friend should. From your fist meeting to the feeling that someday it would hurt, because you could never let him go.

The first time we met, you thought, a calm smile settling over your face.

"And this, is Dr. Spencer Reid." Jason Gideon, your new boss introduced.

You nodded, a tight smile on your face, to say that you were nervous would be an understatement. Almost robotically, you shoved your hand forward, "it's nice to meet you–Doctor" you added quickly to the end.

An awkward expression came over his face as he stared at your hand, "oh, uh, he has a problem with physical contact." Dereck Morgan, your new team member, snorted.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you glanced at Morgan, your eyes swiftly turned back on Dr. Reid with a question lying just beneath the surface. He raised a single eyebrow back–though if it were on purpose you didn't know.

"You know," he said after a moment, after Gideon had walked away, up into his secluded office that you've only been in a few times. "It's actually safer to kiss."

Your eyes widened and Morgan snorted another, louder laugh, clapping his hands in the process. Dr. Reid's face had taken on a bit of mortification.

"I–of course I was just–I mean–I was saying that as–a fact–not that–"

"Just stop while you ahead, pretty boy." Morgan's contented sigh came to rest and he stood up. Dr. Reid still looked rigid, though, and you felt a little bad. Where you were nervous, he seemed just as awkward.

Morgan patted the poor doctor on the back and walked away, toward the staff room, it seemed. You both watched as he walked, a pep in his step, for a lack of better words. When Spencer turned back to you, fear written in his creases of his features, you offered a pleasant smile, "don't worry about it," he seemed to relax at that, which is why you couldn't help adding, "pretty boy."

His head jerked back toward you and you bursted into laughter, already feeling the tension and stress in the back of your head decrease a sizable amount. Thank you, Dr. Reid. You thought as you stared back at him, kind and gentle eyes, once again making him relax. He didn't know why he all of a sudden felt easier, but he did, and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to question something.

Music pulled you from your thoughts, the old jukebox in the back corner of the shop had began playing. An old man was now making his way back to a woman, whom you assumed was his wife. They looked cute, happy, and whole.

Your heart swelled, would you be able to have that kind of love one day? Would someone be able to talk about you as fondly as old men spoke of their first loves? Spencer called your name from across the shop, "you just want the coffee? Nothing else?"

You smiled warmly, though, a bit nervous, "no, no I'm fine." He nodded and typed something into his phone, which you had forced him to upgrade a few years back, you haven't been able to get him to upgrade since, but maybe, just maybe if he received a gift from Santa...

The old couple caught your attention, they were standing, and you watched as they–ever so slowly–took to the emptied space in the middle of the shop. Butterflies shot through your chest, and you felt like you might be sick–it was so cute.

It reminded you of–you turned back to Spencer, your cheeks reddening not just form the frostbite that had accompanied you when you'd first arrived.

That night...

You've been with the team a year, and tonight is the first night you've ever stayed at the office. You were tired and you wanted to go home, but you had to get this paperwork done and you did not want to be working a few feet away from your bed, where the promise of warmth and sleep–deep, deep sleep–awaited.

Thankfully, though, you weren't alone. Both Hotch and Reid had work to do too. Which wasn't odd for Hotch, but Reid, well, he normally went home, like the rest of you. Gideon sure went home right after, which still made you pause, he seemed to love his office so you wondered what his house had that his office didn't.

"You're staying late right?" Reid's voice carried through the empty bullpen as he rounded your desk and sat in Elle's desk chair.

"Yep," you nodded, pushing your hair out of your face. "Hey," you tilted your head toward him, "you wouldn't happen to have a hair tie, would you?" He grimaced and you chuckled, "thought so."

Sighing, you stood and walked the few paces to Elle's desk, leaning over the side of it, rummaging around. Spencer tensed, watching you closely. The single light that still loomed over the room traced the angle of your face. He caught his breath hitch when you pulled back and tilted your head upward, tying your hair back.

You brushed any remaining strands out of your face and tucked them behind your ears. "What?" Your face lit up in happy confusion.

"No–" he cleared his throat, "nothing."

You nodded complacently, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth, "really?" You leaned in, pushing your face as close to his as he would allow. You held onto Elle's chair and desk with your hands to keep yourself balanced.

His eyes averted from yours to the floor multiple times and he cleared his throat again. You were only messing with him, his reactions were always worth it though, Penelope and Dereck had taught their new child well.

Reid contemplated what to do for a moment, he knew you were teasing him, you did this sometimes when you two were alone, it always started the same–where he'd get flustered over something dumb and you'd take the opportunity to make fun of him for it. He knew you were doing it out of endearment, so he normally didn't mind, but–he couldn't get that image of you, your exposed neck in the almost completely dark room, out of his head, so keenly unaware of the dangers that could be lurking.

Reid sighed, latching his right hand onto your right wrist and yanking it back. You stumbled slightly, Reid had never used his strength on you before–you'd always thought it was because...well, he had none (but that's beside the point!). He certainly seemed to have it now, did he grow these overnight? You thought, taken aback, though your attention was pulled to his–avidly aware of the closeness between your bodies.

His eyes traced yours, looking for...you didn't know what, but it was something alright. You swallowed and couldn't help laughing nervously, the grip he had on your wrist was strong but careful, you had no doubt if you tried pulling back, he'd let go immediately.

You didn't, for a while. His touch was a sensation you had never felt before. You'd brushed fingertips multiple times, but this–this felt like the Darcy hand scene in Pride and Prejudice–the place where his skin met your burned all around. Not just physically in your hand, it burned in your chest, in your throat, and your head was probably steaming too.

Were it not for Hotch coming out of his office at the exact moment he did–you shook your head, no, that was a completely unprofessional thought.

"You two are still here?" Hotch asked taking–and almost falling–down the stairs.

You and Reid turned away to contain your giggles, which was only harder once Hotch said, "That was a smart move on both your parts. I'm going home early–" The three of you paused, allowing the silent end of that sentence to simmer. Early for Hotch. "In any case," Hotch cleared his throat, "don't stay too late: long day tomorrow."

"Yep," Reid's voice was clipped, but you said nothing at all, opting for a silent nod instead. Hotch left the bullpen and when you heard the elevator ding, you spun around and headed back to your seat. Spencer stayed at Elle's, which strained your focus, anytime he leaned back or stretched, your eyes would wander over to him.

It irked you for an entire thirty minutes, which is when you had enough and yanked out your headphones. Light music helped you focus–it cleared the other surrounding noise from your ears and kept your thoughts from sidetracking too often. In this case, it should've been perfect, and it was, for a time–until you were just about done with your work and they died.

You huffed a loud sigh, pulling them off your head and throwing them across your desk. Spencer raised a brow and turned to you, he'd been watching you carefully from the corner of his eyes. Every time you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, he'd thought you were glancing at him, but then you'd pulled out your headphones and he was sure he had been daydreaming.

"What's wrong?" He heard himself ask, surprised to feel a tingle throughout his body–was he... excited he had something to talk to you about?

"My headphones–" you motioned toward your useless item now laid strewn on your desk, "just died."

"Oh," was the first thing to pop into his head, and apparently he didn't have enough control over his motor mouth because he said it out loud too. You glared at him slightly before deflating against your chair.

"And I just got to the last wha–hun!" You whined, smacking your hands to your face. Spencer wouldn't admit it at that moment, but your tiny tantrum brought an equally tiny smile to his face; he found you incredibly endearing.

"You know," he spoke up softly, getting you to pull your hands away slightly to watch him, "...you could always play your music on your computer."

Your eyes lit up, "really?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, waving his hand around, "there's no one here."

"You're here." You stated.

He gave you one of his "come on now" looks. A few guys tried giving you that face, thinking it was cute, but it always made you cringe–the fact was, though, it was cute on Spencer, and you fell for it every time.

"Okay, fine, but you better not be mean. My taste in music is superior, anyway." He chuckled, sliding out of Elle's chair, and taking two long strides to your desk.

"Alright, let's hear it then." To his surprise, the notes that rang through your computer's speaker were not ones that he was prepared for. "This is Tchaikovski."

You nodded, "I prefer the André Rieu's version, honestly, but the playlist is on shuffle.

He nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, I can see that."

"Huh?" You raised a brow, standing and stretching, "what's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, but a cheeky grin attached itself to the corner of his lips, "You just...seem like you would."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the urge to ask more, "Are you done?"

He twisted his body to glance over at the desk that was not his–but was the one closest to you. "Yeah, just finished." Actually, he had finished ten minutes ago, but he didn't want to leave you alone. Well, I can't just leave her, he'd rationalized, it wouldn't be right. So he sat there, shifting his documents until you'd thrown your headphones off.

"Okay, I just have this page left, wait for me?"

He hid his smile by looking down, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Yeah, sure." You were done fifteen minutes later, Spencer caught you stacking your papers and shoving them in your drawer, "all done?"

"Yep," you stood and stretched, pulling your arm over your head. You yawned and turned to him as he approached you again, his steps hidden by the music that was now fading in. Your head turned and a smile tugged at your lips, "It's Rieu."

He focussed his attention on the morodo, listening, "Oh, yeah, it does have the nostalgic familiarity." You raised a brow, but he shook his head.

"Do you ever close your eyes and picture yourself dancing?" You asked, letting your eyes flutter shut as your body swayed a little.

Spencer was about to say no when a thought formed in his head, he didn't like the term "idea" or "plan" because that wasn't what it really was. It was more of an urge and it really did just...pop into his head, "Do you want to dance?"

Your eyes shot open, an enticingly daring expression flooding your face. "You dance?"

He shrugged, but a smile he couldn't control was again tugging at his mouth, "I'm a quick learner."

You nodded, though you thought it, you didn't say you weren't much of a dancer yourself–you didn't count the concerts on your bed or in the middle of your room because you mostly shook your head back and forth, no choreography detectable.

You took charge because although you didn't know much about popular dancing, you knew some ballroom...well, what you'd seen on TV and had tried copying in your living room.

"Put this on the back of my shoulder," you tapped one of his hands, mimicking the action with the arm. The crescendo was building, so you took his free hand in yours and moved back, "one," you said, "two," another step, "three."

A few seconds later it seemed he was now the one teaching you. He even attempted spinning you, which you had not attempted nor planned out before. You almost spun right into a wall, but thankfully, Reid yanked you back to him in time and you fell against his chest instead.

"Maybe," you whispered, out of breath, hearing the song fade out, "we should stick to catching criminals."

"Yeah," he dropped your arms and leaned a hand on the nearby stair railing while you bent to your knees, "maybe we should."

You huffed a laugh, "Oh you look horrid."

He snorted, "Not much more can be said for you."

"Okay, yeah, whatever, help me clean up."

"No," he whined, throwing his head back against his arm, still holding the railing of the stairs, but one warning glance sent him dashing after you.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer's eyebrows scrunched together as he took the seat across from you.

You shook your head, sighing softly, "No," your eyes flickered back to the old couple, then meeting Spencer's once more after a brief moment, "you order?"

"Yep," he nodded, his earlier Rudolph nose now down to a slight tint of pink.

"What do you think the other's are doing right now?" You turned toward the window next to you, desperate to draw this out. Your nerves were all too clear, it felt like you were dying–slowly–with the way your mind was floating through these memories so clearly.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "but to be perfectly honest, I'm not worried about them right now."

You nodded, gulping, how to distract him? How to steer him away from the inevitable conversation, you weren't even sure why he'd wanted to meet you tonight, it was nothing special, yeah, sure, it was Christmas Eve, but the date didn't signify anything for you two.

"Hey," you said, finding yourself coming up with another memory, "do you remember when we had that team dinner, but everyone bailed?"

"Everyone except us," he snorted.

"Yeah, what was that all about?"

His eyebrows scrunched together, "what do you mean?"

It was the first time you'd been out of the office with Spencer alone–that wasn't work-related...kind of. "Well, they never really told us why any of them bailed, don't you remember, aren't you curious?"

Her chuckled, "I mean no? It was what four–five years ago?"

"Yeah, but...

The night was almost as annoying as it was cold, the team had cancelled–everyone had something to do and not one person deemed you worthy enough to know what it was, but you had been looking forward to this dinner for the past month. You were not about to let it slip through your fingers.

You had never been to a fancy restaurant and the reservation was still made, it wasn't as if Rossi would have thought to cancel it and you planned to add everything to his tab anyway. (It wasn't stealing if he had offered to pay before.)

The hostess led you to a large round table with multiple seats you were expecting to be empty–but to your surprise, there was someone there, "Reid?" You called, confusion written across your face.

He turned, his face brighting, "oh, hey, where's everyone else?"

You tilted your head, sitting in the seat beside him, "didn't you get the text?"

"I don't have a phone," he shifted his body to face yours, "well, I do...but Penelope called it an abomination so I just don't use it."

You raised a brow, "what about email?"

He shook his head–you pressed your mouth together and patted him on the back, "It'll be okay."

"What?" His eyebrows shot up.

"I have to go to the bathroom, tell the waiter to bring out the menus, pretty please."

When you returned, you found Reid had followed your instructions and was now leaning over a small rectangular board. "Oh, you're ba–"

He paused, his eyes trailing over your body, "jeez, Reid, take a picture."

"Sorry," he cleared his throat, scooting out of the table a bit so as to follow you with his eyes as you rounded the table and sat back down, "I guess I just didn't notice before–you look beautiful tonight."

"Wow, thanks," you replied with sarcastic sarcasm, laughing when he began sputtering out an explanation.

He stopped and watched you with awe, it was as if he thought you'd never stop laughing like you were, but only if he was quiet enough. You stopped eventually–of course you did, it wasn't as if he really did think you wouldn't.

"What's that look for?" Your laughter ceases and a calm smile comes to rest on your face as you angle your head upward.

"Hmm?" His face scrunched up but he couldn't help smiling at being caught, "I don't know what you're talking about," his voice went high and he turned his head toward the lights above you, his smile ever present.

"Oh," you grinned, smacking his arm right when the waiter came and asked for your orders.

The rest of that night you spent with him, joking, laughing–ignoring the world around you. He walked you out to your car, which is when you found yourself not wanting to get in–to leave–just yet.

Instead of dragging out the conversation, however, you sighed and went silent for a moment–it was late, he must be tired–before thinking too much about it, you grabbed his wrist, and in the quiet, lamplit car park of the fancy restaurant, said, "thank you, Reid, for being you."

He chuckled and shrugged and right then and there–you had a wisp of a precarious thought that left you as soon as it appeared, "I don't know how to be anyone else."

"I know," you sighed, knowing it was probably time to get in your car and head home, but something–some unseen force–was holding you back, "that's what I like about you."

You both paused. You didn't say love. Normal friends would have said love, but you didn't, you said like; normal friends dislike each other, siblings dislike each other–lovers...lovers, don't hate each other, or do they? "Thank you." He tilted his head down to hide the shy smile that overpowered the rest of his facial features.

Okay, maybe you'd been thinking about it too hard–wait since when did you overthink things? And about Reid?

"You know," he murmured," pulling your eyes back onto his, he looked up at you through those long eyelashes Penelope always threatened to steal, head still turned down slightly, "you should call me Spencer."

"Huh?" Your cheeks burned, you could feel them heating up in real-time and you were hoping he didn't take notice of the way you shifted in your stance.

"Well, it's just–I mean I use your first name, and you're only a year younger, so–I mean it's normal for everyone else, but–I don't know–never mind."

He turned, embarrassment taking over, "Spencer." You called, eager to throw him off guard. But when he faced you again you stopped breathing, that would be the only explanation for the lack of oxygen in your body. The only logical explanation, anyway.

"I'll see you Monday."

"Yeah, uh–hu-h," you sputtered like an idiot, watching your coworker disappear between the cars.

"...but what?" He pushed his head toward yours, "You went somewhere just now, where did you go?" You couldn't very well tell him you were sifting through the memory archive of your relationship with him–not when you were trying to steer the conversation away from it–well, for as long as you could.

"I...don't," you shook your head, closed your eyes, and sighed with a smile, "sorry, I'm just a little out of it tonight."

He frowned, "anything you want to talk about?'

You pressed your lips together, "Nope."

He nodded, and slipped off his scarf, setting it on the table. He turned his head from side to side, massaging the tension between the muscles. Your brain shifted and then you weren't seeing Spencer massaging his neck, you were seeing yourself–that first night in his apartment, the very first time you'd slept over.

A shiver ran down your spine as you recalled the events leading up to the mentioned massage.

"Thanks again for letting me crash at your place," you sighed contently.

"No problem," Spencer chirped, opening his door. "How did you lose your keys again?"

"Ugh," you ran a hand over your face, "I don't know, they must have fallen somewhere." You groaned, "I'll have to get the locks changed–jeez–my landlord is gonna have a cow."

His chuckle turned into a sigh, "well, you can stay here as long as you need."

"Oh," you turned, "by chance, do you mind if I borrow a few clothes as well? It'll just be for tonight, I can buy something in the morning."

He pressed his lips together, giving you a small nod, "whatever you need."

"Thanks, Spence," you gushed, yanking him into a tight hug, "ugh, what would I do without my pretty boy?"

"Okay, okay," he pushed you away, "you–do know I'm older, right?"

"By a year," you rolled your eyes.

"Just making sure," he concluded, flipping on the light and heading into the kitchen as you stopped to look around. It was clean and a lot of the furniture looked old, especially the bookshelves, but it was definitely Spencer's. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" He called.

"Do you have any frozen fruit?" You asked, stepping in front of one of the shelves and running a hand along a row of spines.

"Frozen fruit?–" he sounded confused at first, and then his sentence completely fell off, so you turned around, he was in the entryway to the kitchen, "see anything you like?"

You faced the shelf once more, "they're all Econ and Mathematics," you said, almost indifferently, "got anything romantic?"

He smiled, "those treasures are hidden in my room."

"Why yes, Spencer, I would gladly take your room for the night, I'm so glad you asked." Your smile widened as you spoke, placing a hand to your heart, "What," a shake of your head, "a," shake, "gentleman."

His mouth hung agape, but it looked as if he was trying to hide a smile, "you're unbelievable."

"Don't hate the player, Spencer," you spun around and headed for the kitchen, "hate the game."

He scoffed, his frown hanging on for dear life so as not to disappear, but it was losing its grip–quickly.

Spencer let you get in the shower first, but when you got in, you had to stand there, contemplating just how exactly you would tease him for having only shampoo and a bar of soap. A. Bar. Of. Soap.

"There's not even conditioner," you threw your head back, groaning.

A knock came from the other side of the closed bathroom door, "you okay in there?"

"Yep," you shouted, "just..." another sigh, "...peachy..."

Ten minutes later you were stepping out, grabbing the towel Spencer had lent you, it was his spare. You should have grabbed the clothing you wanted to wear before, but a hot shower after a day of dead girls–yeah, you needed the shower.

You heard Spencer moving around in the kitchen, making alfredo with cilantro and broccoli–oh you could already taste the pasta on your tongue, its smell wafted toward your nose and your mouth watered. You hurried to his room, deciding to lotion your body after you were dressed.

You pulled on the bra you'd been wearing before and rummaged through Spencer's drawer's for a t-shirt. Of course, he only had two, the rest were socks.

Frowning, you headed for his closet to see if you could find something better, thankfully, you found rows of white collared shirts, and in pulling one over your head, you grinned at the thought of seeing his face crumble, so maybe you were a bit of a sadist when it came to him–it was only all fun, really. If it meant that much to him, you'd just buy him another tomorrow.

You were about to walk out when you realized you were pant-less. You thought about reusing your underwear, but that would just be gross, so, you would have to go commando.

But... you still needed pants. After a while you sat on his bed in silence, frowning at the disappointment of not finding anything comfortable, then–just like a lightbulb, it occurred to you he might have sweats hidden somewhere.

You began pulling open the rest of the drawers when another knock–this time on his door–came. "Are you decent?" His question muffled by the door.

"I'm about to be," you replied, standing with your prize. You shoved your legs into them, the length dragging past your feet, you had to manually knot them with the strings to keep them up, and even then it was still falling. You sighed, pulling the linen shirt over the pants. "Alright," you brushed your hair down, "come in."

His eyes caught the shirt you wore, then they dipped toward the grey sweats; he smiled, tilting his head as he let his eyes track back up toward your face, "new style?"

"Oh shut up," you glared, feeling a similar smile come over you, as you shoulder-checked him out of the room. "Is the pasta done?"

"Almost," he nodded, "hungry?"

"No, I'm perfectly full," you rolled your eyes.

His laugh sent a tingling sensation through your body and your stomach dipped, "I'm gonna get in the shower, okay? Feel free to finish cooking."

"Aye-aye captain," you saluted him, turned, and marched toward the kitchen.

Spencer stood there for a moment, he's known you for about three years now, and yet he still couldn't figure out what this was, what you were–to him... He was considered a genius by normal standards, but around you, he felt his whole world shrink until it was only big enough to hold a young woman, and then he wasn't such a genius.

He often grumbled idioms to himself whenever he found he was losing his shit–which is how he stepped into his shower tonight, uttering idioms under his breath, all while knowing they were pointless.

Rossi had taught Spencer how to cook–not just cook, but cook. He'd only been with the team a year, but he was quickly sliding into a nice rhythm with everyone and you thought he might even be helping Spencer in the way only Gideon used to...maybe.

You loved that zio.

Spencer was right, the pasta was almost done. Which meant you could start grabbing plates, "...left cabinet near the sink..." you mumbled to yourself, trying to remember where Spencer said he kept dishes.

"Hey, all done?" Spencer walked into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and an MIT sweatshirt.

Your smile dropped, "you were hiding that weren't you?"

"How could I?" He raised his brows, leaning his back against the counter in front of you. You had just turned off the iron holding the pot boiling the noodles, and now you turned around to mix the sauce, ordering, "poor the water out please."

He moved swiftly, careful to only hold the handles. You watched him from the corner of your eyes, though you couldn't see them with the sweatshirt he was wearing, the ease in which he tilted the large pot told you those muscles you'd noticed during your first overnight at the office with him, were still there, and possibly even growing.

You turned away and cleared your throat when he set the pot back down, "alright grab the plates."

He smiled, and it was almost like you were dancing with the way you spun to let him pass. He laughed and you couldn't help but smile, this was nice–this was fun.

After dinner, Spencer began cleaning the dishes and you began cleaning the table, when you finished before him, you hip-bumped him and said, "I got this, go find a movie we can watch–preferably horror."

He sighed, shaking his head, "yes Hotch."

You your jaw dropped, but he could see your smile through it, "you did not."

He laughed and it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard. It warmed your chest and for a second you felt lightheaded; dizzy.

Upon finishing the dishes, you found Spencer strewn across his couch, head leaning forward as he rubbed the back of his neck. The paused movie on the tv screen was parallel his long couch, waiting for you.

"It hurt?" You took slow steps toward him.

He jerked as if he hadn't known you were there until you'd said something. "Not really," he turned back toward the screen, "ready?"

You don't really know what it was that made you keep on your journey toward him, probably that unseen force from before. "Let me see."

He tensed when the buds of your fingertips prodded up and down his warm neck. Logically it was probably from the coldness, but you hesitated, almost pulling back for fear of making him uncomfortable.

"Sorry–"

"No, I–" he grabbed your wrist, holding it down on his neck, "it's fine...please?" It was so small, so quiet, so overwhelming in that space between you and him, and that question–that word–...it shrunk it even smaller.

"Yeah, okay," you spoke quietly, fearing if it were any louder the moment would turn to ruins.

You pulled away, breathing on your hands so they wouldn't feel so cold, then, you moved in, working the tenses muscles first, just like your dad had taught you. For a second you recalled the child labor he put you through during your childhood, nose scrunching at how he started giving you half a dollar every foot massage after you'd brought it up.

Spencer's groan yanked you to the present instantly, you smiled, "I'm no chiropractor, but I'm not completely clueless."

Spencer's snort earned him a smack on the shoulder, leading to you both laughing. A few passable seconds and you were now at the base of his neck, where his shoulders formed the arch. You were so focused on your work–a vein must've popped out–when Spencer turned his face and suddenly you had that loss of breath sensation again. Your mouth went dry and–unwillingly–your eyes ran over his lips, but when you blinked you forced them up again.

"Thank you," a boom in your chest, and you fell backward, onto your butt, your legs sprawled, but your knees somehow still tucked beneath you, Spencer of course was worried, jumping up immediately, and asking if you were alright.

The thing was, though, you weren't. Not in the mental sense, because your mind had spent years trying to figure out just what all the moments and feelings over the years meant. And yet, you couldn't put it into words until now.

You were absolutely, positively, irrevocably in love with him. Your coworker, possibly your best friend–and–and–how could you not know until now? You've had your fair share of crushes, you've had boyfriends, even, but have you ever been in love? No–this was a first. And–and you just couldn't grapple with what that meant. If it even meant anything at all.

You offered him a kind smile, "Yeah, sorry, I must have just...lost balance."

He looked at you for a moment, nodding, "If you say so, here, let me help you up."

You sighed, realizing you were still on your knees–get up girl, you're not freaking praying–

"Thank you," you murmured.

"You don't have to thank me," he replied cooly.

Your brows furrowed, "what?"

"I said you don't have to thank me," he led you to the couch, "I have free will, I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, so, you don't have to thank me."

He held your eyes and for only a timid instant, you thought it may have been a confession, but no–there was no way. You nodded, "All right, then–the same goes for me."

After a tic, he nodded, "Right."

You blinked and suddenly you were in the coffee shop again, but Spencer wasn't in front of you. You nearly jumped up shouting his name before you noticed he was walking over to grab your drinks. That was odd, had they called it out? Why hadn't you noticed?

Your eyes tracked his movements when he reached out to grab your cups, his forearms hidden beneath the nerdy plaid sweater, one of many–you knew–were in his closet.

You smiled at your joke, recalling the first Christmas you'd spent with him–well, okay it was with the team and it wasn't on Christmas day, and yeah, it was for Secret Santa, but it was the first time you had pulled his name since joining the BAU and becoming part of their little but many traditions.

He spun around and started walking toward you, and you couldn't help thinking his eyes had that same glint that they did when he'd opened your gift.

You had tried to make it as uncommon and unexpected as possible, but still as about him in some way. His reaction...you felt sickly sweet thinking about it; like you might throw up. And the gift he'd given you–because he'd pulled your name from the bowl for the first time that year as well–you could feel your heart grow ten sizes...

The lights around the bullpen were dimmed so as to appreciate the blue weather outside. There was only one window, but Penelope brought a few candles so as to capture the very essence of the winter spectacle.

When you had retrieved Spencer's name from the bowl a week ago, you'd being thrumming with both excitement and nervousness, you'd gotten Gideon the first year, which scared you to absolute bits, but Hotch helped you...somewhat. Then Elle left and Emily joined the team, and you'd gotten her, last year it had been Penelope. This year, well–you just had to go all out.

You had felt it a few months ago, in his apartment, you'd even admitted it to yourself, but you couldn't tell him, nor could you let anyone else know. This was your secret, yours and yours alone.

You'd spent hours searching stores, but nothing seemed to fit, there were so many people out doing their annual gift shopping and it just all seemed too crowded to brave the storm of people again.

It was last Wednesday when you stumbled across the gem of a store, well, it wasn't much to the normal person, but as they say, 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder'–and though he hadn't been there, you knew the shop would have driven him mad with happiness.

Upon entering, multiple little trinkets had caught your eye, but you'd wanted to filter around for a bit, and you did just that until you came across a teddy bear wearing a plaid vest. Now, you didn't know if it had been fate, but the teddy bear was holding a small chess piece, the queen. You recalled Gideon constantly beating Spencer at chess when you first joined the team, and how Spencer had been humbled with each loss.

You now watched with anticipation as Spencer shook the gift in his hand, it was light and cheap, and a little old, but you were sure he'd love it, after all, what was all that ancient woodwork in his apartment? He grinned, clearly just as excited to open the gift as you were. "What is it?" Emily asked, glancing at you.

"Tell him to open it," you motioned toward him with a hand.

"Open it Reid," she turned toward him, the other's murmuring similar comments.

And he did. His eyes widening when they pulled out the small, plaid-vested teddy bear. "Is–is that a stuffed animal?" Morgan questioned, jumping when Penelope smacked him on the arm.

"It's holding a chess piece," Spencer ran his fingers along the tiny queen. His eyes caught yours in a manner that had you planted to the floor, you tried swallowing, but your throat was dry, you felt as if he were trying to communicate with you through his eyes. Like he was saying, "thank you," only that was too small, it was deeper than that and yet as simple as a smile. Your heart thudded and you had to turn away because if he saw you. He'd know.

You had no doubt. Not a single sliver of it–he'd know in an instant, and well, you don't know how he'd react, and you loved how things were now, so you turned away, not from your feelings, but from the damage that might ensue, should he find out. "Mmhmm," you rocked back and forth on your feet.

"Alright, who's next?" Rossi called, "Reid, who'd you get?"

His eyes flashed to yours as he set the small bear down. "Actually," he pulled a finely wrapped square gift, it was the largest of the gifts this year and you hadn't a clue as to what it could be nor who had brought it in.

As he slid the firm gift into your hands, he said, "be gentle, it's fragile."

Now, you were undoubtedly curious. It was skinny but heavy enough, so you set it down and began clawing at the wrapping, gently, just like he had said. When it was unveiled, your words caught in your throat. You looked up to him, holding it in between you two.

His smile grew bashful and he rubbed the back of his neck, "I know you don't, but I have a record player, and you're welcome to come over and use it any time."

Your jaw hung open and it was only when Emily shared a look with the rest of the team that one of them finally said something–it was Rossi–"Are we missing something?"

Your smile hurt with the way it stretched across your face. "Thank you," you set the gift aside stepping forward to hug him, but then remembered the rest of the team around you, so you awkwardly tapped his chest, but he looked like he knew your intent and for that you were grateful.

He had gotten you an André Rieu's Swan Lake record. How could someone be so–so perfectly him? As the gift-giving went on, you leaned over and whispered, "Thank you," again.

He stepped closer toward you, leaning over subtly, "remember what we said?"

The low tone in his voice sent shivers running down your spine. "Right..." you gulped.

"But," he continued, walking around you, pulling your gaze back to the record, in prime condition, you had no idea how he did it because you were pretty sure Rieu's Swan Lake did not exist on records, and yet here it was, in the very palm of your hands.

"But?" You asked, brimming with butterflies.

You swear you felt yourself beginning to tremble with them before he said, "if you ever need a dance partner, I'm always available, and I might be open to a little 'please'."

You smacked him laughing, thinking he was about to say something serious. He covered his chuckles with a hand, placing his other on the desk to hold himself up.

You both paused when you realized the chattering around the room had stopped, and when you looked up, everyone was staring at you, even JJ had her brows raised, Hotch–he looked like a dad catching his daughter with a boy in her room for the first time.

Spencer cleared his throat and asked, "What did everyone bring for the potluck?" His voice, once again, squeaky and high.

You smiled at him, with a few years of practice you had stopped saying thank you to each other, it was in your eyes; it was like saying I love you: pointless if you both knew it already, so why waste breath on something that could be better used for anything else?

"It's hot, so be careful," he handed it to you and your fingertips burned at where you touched his hand.

"So," you said, "what did you want to talk about? Why did it have to be tonight?"

He smiled, and to your surprise, it didn't falter. Although, should you really be surprised? You knew you loved him. You have for years now. You've known he's loved you since he pulled you out of that damned basement, it was so clear, not in the way he had reached for you, not in the way he had yelled, sounding both terrified and relieved for the paramedics to "fucking do their job", not even in the way he cried out your name, face contorted in something so close to agony–no. Not in any of those ways–but in the way his eyes had pleaded with you.

The way they had been the only thing you'd remembered after waking up, the only thing you saw clearly when you'd fainted when the world had gone black for the first time, suddenly disappearing all at once–like you were dying, though you might have quite literally have been.

The light was dim, you didn't know how long you'd been here, or where here even was. It had to have been days–days without light, days without food, you'd barely sustained enough water to keep you from dehydrating.

You tried remembering how you got to this point. You were undercover–God how long ago was that? You wanted to cry but you refused to give in, to let him see you like this. It would turn him on, you remember that–at least. You couldn't–you just couldn't give him what he wanted, and for that, he kept you alive.

It was both a matter of survival and of stubbornness and until you gave it to him, he'd keep you ailing, he'd probably torture you in the days to come. Gosh–you were so incredibly weak, you didn't want to waste energy on trying to recall anything else.

But moments would come to you in bits and pieces. You had offered yourself to go undercover, you were his type–the unsub–you were the youngest on the team, but they trusted you and you trusted them to have your back. Most of all, you trusted Spencer, you knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you, and you knew he was probably looking for you right now, probably not sleeping, maybe even torturing himself for losing you.

How long had you known him? Four years? You had no doubt. None. He was looking for you, doing everything in his power to find you, to locate this son of a bastard who was keeping you prisoner for his sick, twisted needs.

"All you have to do," his voice would croak through the speaker he had set in the top corners of the room. You were pretty sure he had a monitor on you as well but tried to disregard that thought as you squinted through your hazy vision. "Is submit yourself to me."

"And then you'll let me go?" You would sometimes ask when you had enough energy, though it was always sarcastic and accompanied by a dry laugh.

The chains he'd linked you to had enough room for you to move around in your tiny prison cell, but you never did, you were normally too exhausted. He wanted to wear you down, this was his tactic, the one Hotch or someone–you couldn't really remember now–had concluded in the profile.

How long had it been? Time either moved too fast or too slow. "I've already told you I would." But it was a lie and you knew it. It was the game he played: get the unwilling participant to confess their secret, undying love for him, you had been messaging him for a few days under an alias before meeting up. That was supposed to have been it, you'd had him, but he wasn't guilty of anything until he tried something.

You were at a club, Emily was stationed on the floor, Spencer was sitting at the bar, Hotch and Morgan were acting as bodyguards at the entrances and exits, and Rossi had been somewhere on the second floor–that was all that had come back so far, everything else was still a mystery.

Regardless, you knew for a fact the unsub wouldn't let you go, he'd get you to confess and then he'd torture you depending on the way he felt that day, then eventually kill and dump you somewhere.

It was the confession, to him it was like a green light to do whatever he wanted, it was like the consent to kill you was hidden behind what he referred to as "the submission".

You stayed in the makeshift bed most days, only moving to keep bedsores from appearing. Despite the lack of physical torture–if you took out the starving and lack of vitamin D–the mental obstacles you went through just to keep yourself sane were another kind of torment.

It had only been a day later, but it felt like weeks of agonizing solitude before they found you. You were still in the clothes you wore to the club. You recalled the bright light, that was the first giveaway, you thought he might have had enough, but then you heard it, your name, your real name, falling from the lips of the only person who could say it like that.

"Spencer?" Your voice was raw, you'd eaten a slice of bread and an egg the day before, at least, you think it was that, you'd been given a single glass of water, which in your state couldn't drink without throwing up.

Spencer had been going insane–and fast. The team had never seen him so erratic before, not even his addiction had made him so lifeless, he wouldn't sleep, he was working nonstop and it got to a point where Morgan had to slip a sleeping pill into a cup of his coffee.

They hated forcing it on him, but it came from a place of love–they would never tell him and if he started showing signs again, they'd take responsibility and work with him, help him–but the kid needed rest, and he wasn't going to get it willingly.

When Garcia finally–finally–obtained an address, they wasted no time. Spencer–not giving a damn about a warrant–shouldered the door down, surprising Morgan and even Hotch, he needed to find you, he needed to. You weren't dead, he could feel it in his heart, you couldn't be. They hadn't found a body–and as long as they hadn't found a body you were safe. You had to be–you just–had to be.

Tears sprang in his eyes and fell down his cheek when he saw you. It'd been a week, they'd never–never–spent this long on a case before, you were a wreck, a pile of almost nothing. His heart broke at seeing you in such a way. He called your name, hoping you were still there, hoping you hadn't given in, that you hadn't gone through all the things he'd seen the other victims–God he couldn't even think of you in that way–you were so much more. So much more.

He'd been trying to fight the feelings, it wasn't appropriate and some part of him was sure you didn't even feel the same, but now–at a time like this–he didn't give a damn about what anybody else thought. Not of you or his feelings, if you hated him afterward then he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was seeing you fucking dead.

"Spencer?" You called and his expression broke free of the mask he'd been wearing up until now. He didn't want the other's to worry so he avoided crying in front of them, whenever he had that urge, he'd hide in the bathroom. But now–now?

He was ugly crying, a beak down if you will. His face came into your vision and his eyes, his bright, sad, glossy, warm brown eyes. It was like a hug, and then he was actually hugging you, your face buried in his chest, you could hear other voices but they were all drowned out by the silence that came over you and you could see nothing but Spencer's eyes. The way they looked as if you built the sky and added the stars just for him.

When you'd disappeared from the bar–he had been right next to you–right bloody next to you, and when he blinked you were just–gone.

You might forgive him, but he knew he would never forgive himself. You had given him everything, and he didn't know it until this very moment that he didn't care about being professional as much as he loved you, and he knew you knew, he didn't say it, but in the silence shared between you too you knew, and you didn't say thank you when he found you, because you knew he could see that in your eyes too.

It was unspoken, but in the silence–it was enough.

"Let's...walk," he stood suddenly.

"Wait, what?" Your eyebrows dipped in confusion, but you scrambled to follow him nonetheless. "Spencer, it's snowing!" You shivered right as you stepped outside.

"I know," he replied, walking down the sidewalk, stores were closed at this time of night, and the coffee shop was no doubt about to close as well, it was almost midnight, you were actually surprised they were still open, today of all days, but perhaps it was good for business.

"Then–why?"

He stopped and began heading toward the park around the corner. It didn't have a big playground, but it had a large field that normally filled with snow around this time of year. The kids were more drawn to it, naturally, though no kids were in sight upon reaching the destination he seemed to have planned.

You sat on the stairs of the small structure, snow blowing around you in the dark atmosphere, only alight by the stars and the park lamps.

The parking-lot had been desolate, not a single car in sight and you almost regretted not driving as you would now have to walk all the way back to the coffee shop, but Spencer, well, he could make anything worth the struggle.

"You know," he spun closing his eyes, coffee cup in hand as the mini blizzard coated him and his attire. He'd grabbed the scarf from his scarf from the table and wrapped it around his arm, now it was loose, the wind pulling at it slightly, "we should make a snowman."

"Now?" You questioned with a lift of your brow. "I mean, it's kind of late."

"So?" He set his cup down, raising a brow at you, "scared?"

You sighed, succumbing to his stupid challenge, "Fine, I give."

"You always do," he grinned, and something about that grin made you want to forgo everything and just kiss him, but you were the one to drag this out, so perhaps you should play along.

You'd been beating around the bush all night, the both of you; it was as if you were so comfortable with each other, so easy with your current relationship, that it was uncomfortable talking about a change.

So, you built the damn snowman. Spencer wrapped his scarf around it afterward, admiring his handy work, though it looked more like a bear with its oval mouth and no carrot nose. You rolled your eyes and snapped a photo of the snowman. "He looks just like his dad," you muttered.

A strange look came over Spencer's face just then, and you knew–you just knew: he was in love–but haven't you always known? He didn't say it because he didn't have to, it was all in his eyes. With the wind swirling around you–you heard your feet crunch in the snow as you stepped forward–and with the moon being your soul witness, you kissed him.

...

Or he kissed you, it was all a blur really: you kissed each other, adoring eyes meeting over and over again like a silent declaration, thank you and I love you.

All this time scared by a change, your fingertips had always burned with the knowing outcome.

a/n:  any way to say ahhhhhhhh differently? i don't know, but thank you for reading, and be sure to check out the community radio (i'm actually so proud of it)

[futureperfectchanges]

The Leather Jackets

"How about this one?" Finn asked as he held up a leather jacket to show to his friend Greg. "Seems a bit smaller than the others."

"Maybe, although perhaps we should try somewhere else?" Greg replied, he was getting a bit nervous now that they were actually in a store looking at jackets. A couple of nights ago they had gone to Infernos, their local club, and seen a flyer for an upcoming leather night. One thing had led to another and Greg had admitted that he had always had a bit of a thing for guys in leather. Greg had definitely not expected Finn to then suggest going to the leather night, but was excited when he did as he would never have had the courage to go on his own.

The only problem was that the flyer had said wearing something leather was mandatory, and neither of them owned anything suitable. They had joked about getting some harnesses, but had decided to play safe and go for leather jackets. Finn had already found a jacket he thought was good, but everything had been a bit too large for Greg. "Let's just try these on, and if they don't fit we'll try somewhere else."

So the friends made their way to the changing room where Finn was the first to try on his jacket. Finn was the more outgoing of the two, and had always enjoyed going out in fancy dress which was why he'd suggested attending the leather night, but even he was now worrying they might not be able to pull these costumes off. Finn had a bit of a baby face, so once he slipped his jacket on and saw himself in the mirror his first thought was that he looked like a child wearing adult clothes trying to look tough.

Finn had expected the leather to feel cool, which it was to start with, but once the jacket was on he was surprised to get a bit flushed. He was worried he might start sweating into the leather, but the warmth quickly faded away at which point he noticed just how comfortable the jacket felt.

Finn smirked a little as he looked at himself in the mirror. He straightened his back and pushed out his chest to show off his chiselled body. He started thinking of the other leather jackets he had but couldn't remember any fitting as well as this one.

"See Greg, nothing like a leather jacket to help make you look like a man. I'm glad you've finally agreed to join me at a leather night, and if you are anything like me you're going to love it." Finn said confidently as he checked himself out in the mirror.

"That's fine for you to say, you've worn stuff like this for years and have the body to suit it. I just don't think I can pull it off, especially not with something that is too large for me. I think we should go somewhere else." Greg said starting to lose whatever confidence he had.

"Well we are here now so you might as well try that jacket on. You'll at least know if you like the feel of it." Finn replied. He knew his friends at the leather night would love Greg regardless of what he looked like in the jacket.

Greg reluctantly started to put on the jacket. What he had not told Finn is that his interest in leather was not about looking cool. Instead it was about domination. He had always been small, weak and mostly submissive, but when he thought of leather he thought of heavily built intimidating men and everything he wasn't.

So Greg knew that even if the jacket had been his size it would never be right to him, something which was confirmed to him as he looked at himself in the mirror. Greg thought he looked ridiculous and knew that the idea of going to a leather night had been a huge mistake. Greg started to feel anxious as he thought about how he should never have said anything to Finn. The jacket started to feel suffocating around Greg's body, but before he could take it off he felt the ball of anxiety in his chest burst out across his whole body.

"Wow, that looks great on you Greg" Finn said as Greg admired himself in the mirror.

"What did you call me Boy?" Greg barked back whilst staying focused on the mirror.

"Sorry, I meant the jacket looks great on you Sir."

"Another slip up like that and i'll be forced to punish you." Greg firmly replied as he turned to face Finn, with both of them getting turned on by the thought of what might come later.