#he also does it if he thinks your pillows /duvet are better than the ones hes currently given rip

[buckgasms]

How do we feel about more fluffy Bucky?

Because I'm feeling good about it...

This is also very much inspired by my own insomnia lol...

I had this thought that maybe you stay up late with Bucky some nights because you can't sleep and it's nicer to be awake together than alone right?

And maybe you start talking about ASMR and Bucky is like "wut?" So you explain what it's all about and show him some videos. And I like the idea of sitting tucked into him, watching videos together and it's all cosy and tingly.

So he tries it out for a few days and he LOVES it. He finds some that he likes and he gets all the tingles and feels super relaxed and he actually manages to get a few nights of sleep!

But one night he comes down to the living room all grumpy and dejected. Flopping down on the sofa next to you.

"What's up?" You ask offering him a bit of blanket as you flick through netflix for a film. He groans and rubs a hand over his face.

"I lost my tingles doll."

You can't help but giggle at him as he gets grumpier, stealing more blanket as punishment.

"Hey, quit it! I'm sorry. It does happen, sometimes you need to not watch for a bit, then they come back..."

He huffs and covers your legs again. "I guess. It's just... It was so nice to get some sleep for once."

You sat back for a moment, looking at the tired man in front of you. Then you had an idea.

"What if we tried in for real?"

He gave you a side eye, before turning to look at you properly. "Whaddya mean try it for real?"

You chuckled and sat up a little, already bouncing with excitement. "Like I can do it for you, which ones do you like watching?"

His cheeks flushed a bit and he tried to evade your question but you kept prodding. Finally he relented.

"I kinda like the skincare ones.... And hair brushing I guess... But you don't have to..."

You squealed a little in delight and stood up, grabbing his hand and dragging him to your room without any chance to argue.

"Get into bed and I'll grab some bits. Just get comfy" you instruct and leave him to head to your bathroom to gather everything you need.

Bucky stood in the middle of your room feeling like he was in a dream and that you were, at any moment, going to start laughing at him. He hesitated for a moment but then heard you call, "get into bed Bucky..."

How could you hear his thoughts? He was sure you had a secret power you hadn't disclosed to the rest of the team.

He carefully pulled back your soft duvet and settled his back into plumped up pillows. The sheets smelled fresh but also like you. He felt better already. He was sure if he shared a bed with you every night, he'd sleep just fine.

Before he could think anymore you appeared with a little bag full of bottles and skincare tools and a shy smile on your face. "I'm not sure the best way to do this, but if it gets too weird, then tell me ok..."

He nodded and watched as you popped your bag next to him on the bed, then panicked a little as you climbed on top of him and sat gently on his covered thighs.

"Is this ok?"

He nodded after a moment and exhaled gently. You smiled and broke the tension by taking a deep breath and exhaling out.

"Welcome to Bucky's BFF ASMR, your personalised pamper session to provide as many tingles as humanly possible."

You both giggled as you started your session. He hummed when you started brushing his hair, parting delicate lines and running your fingers gently along each part.

"Damn" he muttered as your fingers gently pulled as his hair, releasing tension from his entire body.

"You feeling ok there?" You whisper as you clip his hair back and give his shoulders a squeeze. He nods, before cracking an eye open to look at you. "You alright?"

You nod enthusiastically and run your hands gently down his arms. You're about to start when he reaches his hands forward and holds onto your hips gently.

"Actually doll, do you mind if I...just hold you there?"

You think your head is going to explode with how much you are very ok with that, but play it as cool as you can and nod. He smiles and closes his eyes again, his fingers squeezing at your hips ever so gently.

You then grab the skin care and quietly explain everything that you are doing. Cleansing his face with cool micellar water, applying a sheet mask and using a little roller to reduce tension in his face and neck.

Once you remove it you apply some moisturiser and notice his breathing has evened out and his hold on your hips has become a little looser. You sit for a minute, watching his handsome face in relaxed mode.

It was so lovely to see him like this, and your seat for the view was pretty great. You pulled the clips gently from his hair and brushed a little strand of hair out of his face. Just one kiss would make it perfect but it would have to wait.

You quietly packed everything away before lifting as gently as you could off the sleeping former assassin without waking him. You slipped under the duvet and clicked off the light before curling up, hoping he would be ok sleeping with you in there.

Your question was answered when be stirred and rolled towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Thanks Doll...goodnight.."

"Goodnight Bucky..."

[fandomwritingbit]

William Afton x fem reader

Babysitter

A/N: This is a second stab at the babysitter trope because it’s just delightfully filthy, it’s not at all connected to the go I had before (which you can find - here). Also this is my first time writing somnophilia so I hope it’s good. 

Synop: Reader is a regular babysitter for William, one night she stays the night as he is working a late shift. He comes home annoyed and the sight of her asleep is just too tempting.

Warnings: smut, non/dub con, somnophilia, age gap, inappropriate relationship.

You pull the duvet cover up over one of the children you’re babysitting, her voice catching your attention with its whiny tone. “I can’t believe you’re making us go to bed this early.” 

You smile at her and shake your head. “Lizzie, it’s half nine on a school night. You know the rules.” She pouts looking at you with pleading eyes. You know that she just wants to stay up and spend some time with you, it’s not surprising, with two brothers it’s no wonder she wants some time with another girl. She looks up to you and as sweet as it is, you know better than to delay her bed time. 

“Pleease, y/n.” She tries again and you chuckle as you turn on her nightlight then her big light off, coming back over to prop her pillows up. 

“Nope.” You say through a grin, “Now lie down if you want tucking in.” She does, though her dissatisfied expression doesn’t shift. And so, bringing the duvet up under her chin you tuck it tight at her sides, just how she likes, knowing that despite the whinging she’ll be asleep in 10 minutes tops. You stand up and head for her door, stopping just before you leave, “Night night, Lizzie. Remember the quicker you get to sleep the sooner we can make breakfast in the morning.” The little lass smiles and you notice the sleepiness of it even in the low light of the room. 

~

Elizabeth is asleep before you can gather your stuff and lock up downstairs, just as you thought. So you go about checking on Evan asleep in his room as of an hour or so ago, happy to find him still settled. They’re good kids, never any trouble really. You’ve babysat for the Afton kids many times, as a local young lass with a liking for extra pocket money it was a handy job. You would pick the two youngest up from school, take them home and cook dinner, help with homework, all the good stuff. Their dad worked long shifts at his restaurant, so usually you’d stay and put the children to bed, getting yourself home once he’d come back. But tonight was different, Mr Afton had told you he won’t be back til the middle of the night and offered you to spend the night in the spare room; which you took him up on. 

The room is probably the smallest one in the house, not that you mind, it is a double bed with an end table and a chest of drawers. You put your bag on top of it, taking out your wash bag and heading to the bathroom, where you then ready yourself for bed. As it’s only one night you didn’t bring any pjs, only your clothes for the morning, so you strip down to your panties, take off your bra and keep the shirt you’ve been wearing today on, thinking that that should be good enough to sleep in. Yes, it’s revealing but if you need to tend to the kids you can always put your trousers back on. 

You don’t notice your discarded bra, abandoned on the bathroom floor.

Once in bed you set your alarm for seven in the morning, knowing you’ll have to help Mr Afton with the school run tomorrow. Again you don’t mind and you’re paid well for your time. And you like Mr Afton. God, how can you not? Such a handsome bloke, lean and sharp. Smart as anything too, you’ve listened to him talk on the phone, all business, shrewd and confident. Yeah, you like him alright. 

~

William gets home in the early hours, some time after 3am and the happy silence of his home isn’t enough to quell his silent anger. An incident at the restaurant has left him with paperwork up to his nose and a tonne of wasted stock, and with rent and utility on the way he was stressed to all hell. Even after staying nearly all night, there was still some much to do when he went back in tomorrow afternoon, and lord knows Henry won’t be helping much. 

He moves through his house as quiet as he can, careful not to wake anyone up even with his terrible mood. Poking his head in on his children, he smiles in satisfaction at your work. You’re such a good little lass, looking after them so well, you’re more than worth what he pays you. Honestly, the kids love you, even Michael isn’t annoyed by your presence and he couldn’t ask for a prettier thing to be milling around his house. He chuckles at that thought, you’re a damned tease even if you don’t realise it. What with all your tight jeans and shirts that pull away when you bend down, it’s hard for him not to look at you, but so far that’s all he’s done. That and a bit of harmless flirting. 

He pops into the bathroom to wash his face, hoping that will help clear away the stress of the day, except he doesn’t make it as far as the sink. Stopping still at the sight of your bra left on the floor. It’s a surprise to say the least, you’ve never struck him as the black lacy type, least of all when looking after his kids. And especially so given you’re not a careless individual. He grins as he picks it up, rubbing his thumb over the peak of the cup where your nipple would harden at such an action. The image goes straight to his cock, he’d wager you are much too inexperienced to wear such an article.

It would be a shame to just leave it there all night, so he keeps it in his clasp as he leaves the room, a naughty idea crossing his mind. 

But as he passes the spare room that he notices you’ve left the door cracked open. He’s not delusional, he knows it’ll be to hear the kids if they need you, but a very persuasive part of him wonders if you could have left it open for him. After leaving your bra in the bathroom it doesn’t seem outlandish, rather like you’ve left him a trail to follow and he wouldn’t dream of denying that invitation. 

The light from the hall cuts through the room as he cracks it open, his eyes quickly finding your sleeping frame laid on the bed and an almost sinister smirk creeps across his face. Such a lovely girl just laid there, having no clue that he was taking in the sight of you. Whether you did do this on purpose or not is irrelevant to him, there is only so much teasing a man can take.

He stands there in the doorway for a moment listening to the tickly feeling in his chest of doing something he knows he shouldn’t, his silhouette casting a large shadow into the room. It’s a familiar feeling but one that just never dulls. 

Still careful to be silent, William slowly enters the room, reaching behind himself to close the door, the room remaining dimly lit due to a lamppost outside the window. His hands move automatically to the buttons of his shirt, still unsure of what he was going to do even as he took it off, dropping it down to the floor. His belt was harder to take off without the suspect clinking noise but he manages it and his trousers follow suit. Standing over you there with his cock rock hard behind his boxers, he feels like some all powerful monster and it’s just delicious. 

The bed dips as he gets in beside you, lifting the duvet up and scooching in until his chest is pressed against your back, your warmth utterly intoxicating. You stir, a soft sleepy moan leaving your lips that makes his dick twitch. This is wrong in so many ways but he doesn't care, especially when his cold hand finds your leg, tracing up to the soft skin of your thigh and groaning when he feels the fabric of your panties. Though he skims over them for now, eager to feel more of you. It’s so easy for him to reach up under that shirt, trailing up over your stomach whilst softly grinding his stiffness into your behind, the knowledge of no bra making precum coat the tip of his cock. 

A cold hand grabs your breast, gently squeezing your flesh before taking your nipple between his fingers and tugging it lightly, it hardens instantly which makes him grin wolfishly. You again stir, arching your back into him, your behind rubbing against his erection. Your body subconsciously leans into the touch so he can’t help but give you what you want, largely because it’s what he needs.

So he shifts position, lifting your leg forwards to gain access to the part of you that was calling for him. He traces over your clothed pussy, brushing over your clit a few times and feeling your body tense with the slight stimulation.  

“Is that what you like, sweetheart huh?” He whispers, his breath spreading goosebumps along your skin, it doesn’t wake you but it’s close to. The throbbing of his cock makes him want you to notice. From there he slides his fingers under the fabric, immediately finding your core slick and gooey, he glides them through your folds, gradually becoming more risky with how he grinds his hips into you. The stimulation makes you moan, your eyes fluttering open and body instinctively trying to pull away, but he holds you firm, his other arms sliding under you to clamp over your mouth, disguising the sounds that tear from your throat. 

He shushes you repeatedly, his voice low in your ear, “Shush, sweetheart. It’s alright.” You’re ravaged by confusion, unable to tell if this was real, the fingers coated in your slick teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit felt achingly so, but how could this happen- it couldn't possibly be happening. 

You groan something into his hand and he briefly pulls it away enough to hear you, prompting you to say it again with a hum. Your brows are knitted as you speak, still trying to pull yourself away from him and the growing feeling building in your core. “...Mr Afton?” He grins into the back of your neck when you say his name like that.

“Yes, lovely.” 

You moan as his fingers find a perfect rhythm on your clit rubbing it vigorously and making the coil in your stomach tighter by the minute. “What… what are you doing?” It’s hard to speak, you’re so shocked that he’s doing this, that you’re living through it right now and that it feels so good. 

He doesn’t answer you, just chuckles into your skin, you aren’t riving away from him anymore but rather grabbing at the quilt now sticking to your sweaty skin, unable to decide if you want all this to stop or if you need him to continue. Your lower stomach is riddled with knots that are just begging to snap, the sensation completely overwhelming. You’re moaning pathetically, causing him to shush you again, you sound so good right now he’s dying to relieve himself somehow and just rubbing against you isn’t enough anymore, not when he knows how sweet and wet you are for him. And just, just as you’re screwing your eyes up ready to slam into your climax he stops, leaving your pussy twitching on the brink of your end. 

“Mr Aftonnn.” You whine, devastated that ecstasy was ripped from your tongue and desperate to feel it again. He moves behind you, pulling down his boxers enough to let his cock out, hissing as he strokes himself. You feel him pressing against your behind, then the stickiness of his precum smearing on your skin. 

“You gonna let me fuck that sweet little pussy?” The sound of his voice is so insanely dirty it has your head spinning, you nod, not remembering that he can’t see you. “Huh?” He prompts again, sliding his cock between your legs, the head notching against your entrance in such a way that it almost makes you jump.  

“Yes. Please.” You manage your voice hazy with tiredness and arousal, he doesn’t wait a moment, pressing himself inside the size of him stretching you to accommodate him. You whimper before he even gets to the hilt, your hands balled up in the sheets. 

He groans, sniggering slightly at how good you feel around him and unable to resist he starts fucking you. It’s an earth-shatteringly slow pace that has his tip pressing flush into your sweet spot, each time feeling like he was stealing the air from your lungs. The bed creaks with the movement, though he only just notices over the pretty sounds you’re making. You can’t help it, your orgasm is raising its head almost immediately and you want it so bad that you’re begging incoherently, grabbing at his hand which has found itself squeezing your breasts. And despite trying to keep the noise down his pace grows faster and more needy, the lewd sound of your wet cunt taking him in becoming more frequent. He’s muttering the dirtiest of things in your ear, mixed in with praise for how good you feel and how well you’re doing.  And it’s too much. Shuddering you hit your climax hard, muscles tensing as your wall clamp down around him and fluttering in the most perfect way. 

He grunts, fucking you more selfishly as your tightness begs him to cum. His pace wavers before he does shoving himself as deep as possible as he bursts inside you, filling you up without thinking. You gasp a little, still reeling from your orgasm but still aware enough to feel the sensation of his cum leaking out of you as he pulls out, leaving your cunt twitching. 

“Such a good girl.” 

[mikkomacko]

Thank u for doing requests ! What about giiving kisses on mob boss Nico’s scars (if any)?🥹🥹

This is so sweet oh my god I’m gonna cry. (This also somehow turned into a smut scene at the end so happy first smut scene of mob boss Nico!)

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I did it justice!

————————————————————————-

It wasn’t a big dead, not really. Just an off-handed remark Jack had made after Nico chirped him for getting a bad haircut.

“You should spend more time worrying about that lip of yours than my haircut.” He’d yapped, motioning to the recently split lip Nico had gotten. “Eventually your girl’s not gonna wanna kiss it better.”

It had healed just fine and yeah for a bit there you’d avoided the raw wound, but now that it’s just a sliver of a scar it’s fine, right?

Nico can’t help it. He’s picking at it, smears of shaving cream still splattered across his jaw and cheeks. He picks at it until the skin of his lip is red and raw, and it hurts so badly he has to stop.

In a frantic spiral he’s suddenly spotting all the little marks on his face. Every scar left over from teenage acne to fist fights to hitting his head on the coffee table as a child, Nico feels manic as he takes them all in.

Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved. Maybe he should’ve let his beard grow out, creep up his cheeks and down his neck to hide all the ugly marks.

Down and down and down the rabbit hole he goes. Wiping the shaving cream off with a towel, Nico spots the ugly mark on his collar bone from where he’d been nicked with a knife. The one on his abdomen from where he’d been kicked with steel toe boots.

Something ugly and ashamed rises in his chest, threatens to choke him. He scrambles out of the bathroom, haphazardly shutting off the light as he rushes to the closet. In his haste to cover himself he misses you already lying in bed. It’s not until he’s yanked on a hoodie and sweatpants, finally able to breathe easy, does he notice you watching him with bewilderment.

“You ok boss?” You ask him, slightly amused.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, feels like throwing up. What if you saw all of them? Like really saw them? Sat in front of him and saw all those ugly spots at once, all his ugly spots?

“Fine,” he mumbles, climbing into his side of bed. He feels stiff and awkward, ignoring your gaze as he reaches to shut off the bedside lamp.

You make a confused noise in the dark and Nico blinks until his eyes adjust. Then he’s lying back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers ache to reach for you, to touch your skin. But he’s terrified of you touching his skin and suddenly deciding you don’t want to anymore.

Stupid fucking Jack and his big mouth.

The sheets shuffle, the mattress moving with your weight. “Nico?” A hand pats down the duvet, then slithers across the blanket until it’s resting over his chest.

“Hm?”

“Baby you’re on the edge of the bed.”

“M’just hot.”

“Maybe it’s the winter clothes you just put on?”

Nico hesitates, scrambles for an excuse. “Not feeling well either. Don’t want to get you sick.”

“You ate three plates of pasta, Schoa. I don’t think that’s contagious.”

Clearing his throat, Nico pathetically shrugs. Something’s welled up in his esophagus, is choking him and he wants you to reach over and make it better.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong or am I gonna have to piss you off first?”

He closes his eyes, feels the weight of your hand on him. That feeling chokes him again, makes him panic until he’s spiting out his worst fears to you.

“Do you still want to kiss me?”

Nico expects you to laugh, to kick at his leg and tell him he’s being ridiculous. But he thinks the pathetic whimper of his words has given away how dire this topic is to him.

“Oh baby,” you breathe out, “I want to kiss you all the time.” You sound sincere, like you’re thinking about kissing him right now. It makes his face hot, embarrassed and insecure for some reason.

His silence is thick, hanging in the air so heavily you have to sit up in bed and crawl over him. Nico can’t help it, his hands moving on their own to find your hips as you push the blankets back and straddle his thighs.

“Nothing could ever make me not want you.” You whisper. In the dark he finds your eyes, the moonlight coming through the window gleaming in them. They look shiny and blurry, warped by the night- no by him. Because he’s got tears in his waterline.

“You didn’t want to kiss my lip,” he mumbles like a child, “when it was hurt.”

You stroke through his hair, press your palm to his cheek. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“What if next time it’s worse? What if the cut is bigger and then the scar is and it doesn’t get better?”

“What-Nico where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

He’s silent, embarrassed again. “Jack said if my scars get any worse you won’t want to kiss them better anymore.”

“Oh Nico baby,” you huff in disbelief. “Have you ever noticed that Jack doesn’t even have someone to kiss his scars better? Who does he think he is?”

You’re right, but he doesn’t feel better. So he just shrugs, makes some weird noise of protest in his chest because he’s scared and hurt.

“Can I please turn the light on?”

Nico leans into your palm, heart thumping loudly in his chest but he mutters his consent. The lamp flicks on and at first he’s blinded. But then you come into view, one of his shirts on your shoulders and you’re pretty hair frizzy on top of your head.

You look so beautiful over him.

“Oh my god, what has Jack done to you?” You ask softly, stroking your thumb under his droopy eyes that are still wet with unshed tears.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles.

Your fingers trace his face, over the soft skin of his freshly shaved cheeks and the slope of his nose. Your thumb outlines his lips, your eyes following its movement with such adoration in them it makes his heart ache.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” you say with earnest, stroking the scar on his lip. “No cut or bruise or scar is ever going to change that.”

“Yeah?”

You lean down, ghost your lips over his. “Yeah Nico,” you promise, sealing it with a kiss. He runs his hands up your back, holds you as you trail kisses over the little marks of his face.

Nimble fingers dip beneath his hoodie, touch the warm skin of his stomach. “Can I take this off my love?”

Sluggish, Nico nods. He sits up enough to help you wiggle it off of him, falling back into the pillows as you throw the hoodie to the side.

You sit back, admiring the skin of his chest and abs with your hands and lidded eyes. “All I see when I look at you, is the brave and strong man that I love.”

Sliding down his body, you mouth at his collarbone with soft and needy lips. Nico sighs contently, lets your breath tickle his skin and grows warm at the way you touch him so sweetly.

Sometimes he wonders how you can treat him so softly, how you can take him in those soft hands and turn him into a puddle.

“Baby,” he whines, unsure of what he’s even calling for. All he knows is that he loves you and you’re making him feel so good.

“Let me love on you,” you request, word pressing into the column of his throat. “Let me show you how beautiful and sexy you are Nico.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, shudders as pleasure nips at his belly and blood rushes to his cock.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

You’re slow and diligent, finding any and every place on him that is marred or changed and showering it in kisses and loving touches. He’s sweating and panting when you get to the edge of his pants, peeling the band down to reveal more and more of the scar there.

“This one’s my favorite,” you say so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head, brain foggy with lust. You peer up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking sultry over the planes of his body. Lips hovering over the mark that trails down the v of his hips and the top of his thigh.

“My favorite,” you mumble into his skin, kissing at the point of his hip. Then you’re pulling his sweats down even more, innocent eyes watching him hiss when his cock jumps free, red and hard against his abdomen.

“Why?”

Your lips curl up, wicked as you bite into the inside of his thigh just enough to make him twitch. “Because I get to see it every time I’m down here.”

Nico’s brain short circuits, shuts down when you bite into his skin again and it feels so good he might come untouched. He doesn’t want to though, not that he needs to tell you that.

You nose at his cock, mouth wet and hot against the base of him and his bones turn to jelly. He falls back into the mattress, widening his legs for you to get closer.

Grounding himself with fingers in your hair, Nico whimpers when you drag the flat of your tongue up his length, gentle fingers wrapping around his girth.

“Baby,” Nico whines again, and you’re already kissing at the thick head of his cock, all teasing flicks of the tongue and lips sticky with precum.

“I know pretty boy,” you assure, sweet and loving. Nico moans, ears growing hot at the pet name. “So pretty, from those big eyes of yours all the way down to your pretty cock, huh?”

His hips buck up, eyes rolling back and he twitches in your hand. Jesus Christ, now he knows why you love when he talks you through sex. The rawness of your words, the truth in your tone, how utterly sweet you sound saying such filthy things.

“Make me cum,” he begs, tugging on your hair encouragingly. “Please just -fuck!”

You swallow him down easy, fitting his cock into your warm mouth just how he taught you. Like it’s habit now, to have his cock dripping into the back of your throat while your tongue licks at the underside of him.

Nico’s so worked up and sensitive he’s already throbbing and threatening to blow his load. That fire licks at the base of his spine, curls his toes and has him blubbering nonsense. You bob your head, drooling down his length and cupping his balls in your palm.

You’re so soft and warm, so loving in everything you do. Nico thinks it might kill him one day, how much you love him. But that would be a hell of a way to go.

His cock throbs, twitching in the hollow of your cheeks and you stroke a free hand over that favorite scar of yours. That’s at it takes and he’s seeing stars, coming so hard on your tongue it twists painfully at the pit of his stomach.

Dropping his hands from you, heavy like his bones are made of lead, Nico fights to catch his breath. Your merciful on him, easy and gentle as you kiss your way back up his torso and to his mouth.

Nico doesn’t peel his eyes open until you’re messily mouthing at his parted lips. Your tongue tastes like him, breath hot and he groans into your mouth as he kisses you back.

“I lied,” you pant when you part from the kiss. “This one’s my favorite actually,” and your pecking a kiss to the scar on his lips.

“Baby you just sucked the soul out of me,” Nico croaks, wrapping his arms around you and pinning you into his sweaty chest. “I can’t take anymore compliments.”

You giggle, touching your nose to his. “It’s the truth this time, I love that one. It’s the first thing I see every morning, the first thing I see after you kiss me.”

Nico hums, smacks a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Yeah? Do you think that’s pretty too?” He goads, smirking when you blush and roll your eyes. “Pretty like my cock? Or pretty like my eyes?”

Laughing, you wiggle in his hold to try and get away. “Oh shut up!”

“Noooo keep telling me how pretty I am, boss please?”

[baizhoobies]

Good Morning! “Waking up with…” gn!Headcanons

Request: Hey!!! How are you? Can I request morning headcanons with Sigma, Bram, Kunikida and Fyodor? Can be suggestive if you want. Thank you have a good day!

A/N: Hiya! thank you for the request :3 I am doing okay thank you for asking! Also one last thank you to those in the requests queue who are waiting! I love and appreciate you

Warnings: suggestive, swearing, mostly fluff and sweet domesticity, 18+

Including: Sigma, Bram, Kunikida and Fyodor

Sigma

- Okay to start off with, lets say you both live in the casino together, he has one of those fancy VIP looking rooms

- your bed is ridiculously comfy, as the manager/owner, he has to have a good nights rest (plus working in the DOA the man needs some good fucking sleep)

- Sigma is enamoured with you, he wants nothing more than to be with you and to express his love for you, so he will make sure you are at your most comfort, with your preferred duvet covers, pillows, the works

- He looks like a sleeping beauty whilst he sleeps, so if you are the first to wake up and look at him… if you weren’t madly in love with him, you are now

- clingyyyyyyy

- super clingy, the man doesn’t know what home is but he knows he is at home with you. Keeping that in mind, he will probably prefer to be the big spoon, holding you tightly like some sort of teddy bear

- If he is the first person to wake up whilst he is the big spoon, he will probably try to wake you up with kisses on your neck and shoulders

- though I won’t lie, if you roll over in your sleep to become the big spoon, he will love that just as much

- knowing that you love him and wish to embrace him is enough to make his heart flutter and feel even more at home with you

- he loves the way you smell, your soft breaths and the way your skin feels against his own; soft and warm

- probably keeps a pillow or something and sprays it with your perfume so if you are away for any reason, he can sleep a lot better whilst thinking of you

- I can’t see him being the most active person in the morning, he will definitely want an extra 10 minutes. Even if you want to get out of bed, he just wants to cuddle and how can you refuse his puppy dog eyes?

- Probably doesn’t engage in anything sexual though, at least not in your sleep unless you talk about it prior. Though in saying that, if you have breasts, he will hold onto them like some sort of stress toy, or out of comfort

- I am picturing him doing this, half awake but the moment he hears your moans in your sleep, he’s only going to keep doing it until you are awake 🤭

Bram

- oooh boy, okay I am going to take liberty and allow Bram to have all of his limbs, maybe this scenario is before the events of BSD?

- If you are both vampires, its natural that neither of you will be awake in the morning as ya’ll sleep all day. So I am going to assume your mornings are actually in the evening after sunset

- Not that either of you are allergic to the sun (as seen in the anime/manga) but its a vampires natural sleeping pattern to sleep during the day, and I assume he did when he was living in his estate in Europe.

- He will most likely wake up out of hunger than anything else. You guys could sleep for centuries if you wanted, so the only reason to wake up is to feed, and perhaps spend time with you

- I am gunna say that ya’ll rest in a double sized coffin (yes, they exist) you are his partner after all and wishes to hold you close

- probably will have anxiety if you were in another coffin

- he’s a gentleman, if he wakes up first he will pull you closer and purposefully rest your head on his chest. In one manga panel its seen that he has claws? Or long nails? Will draw circles into your back/shoulders, humming contently as he does so

- if you guys are spooning, he will kiss your spine and your shoulders, but he will only really do this if he is in the mood… might even sneak a hand around and have a cheeky little touch~

- if you aren’t a vampire, he will probably follow your sleeping patterns. Ain’t no way is he going to wake up whilst you go to bed, nuh uh.

- nothing much would be different except Bram being a little dramatic in the mornings

- Like he will say some shit like “human, you have disturbed my slumber, why must your weak bodies-” promptly tell him to shut up and give him a kiss, he will soon shut up

- he will convince you to sleep longer, or at least lay there with him so he can sleep some more

- promise to make out with him, or wake him up if ygm, this may convince him to wake up and indulge 🫡

Kunikida

- So this man ensures that he gets 7 hours of sleep every night; its essential for him to feel refreshed and ready for when he wakes up in the morning. He the type of guy who will wake up immediately at the sound of his alarm, get out of bed, shower etc.. all according to his notebook

- HOWEVER

- Ever since you moved in, he's found himself becoming.. sloppy with his schedules

- Kunikida doesn't strike me as the guy to enforce his schedule onto his s/o, the word 'no' is a foreign word to him when it comes to you

- So lets say his alarm goes off in the morning, he goes to turn it off and get out of bed, but oh no! Your legs are intertwined, your head on his chest and your arms snaked around his waist.

- Despite his best efforts to convince himself to get immediately ready for the day, he will let out one huge sigh and set the alarm to snooze...and then snooze again, and again.

- Kunikida's biggest weakness is cuddles, especially whilst you are sleeping so adorably

- He might curse himself for breaking his schedule but, you certainly are worth it

- He may even incorporate snuggle time into his schedule just to say that he is following his ideals to feel better about himself

- LOVES to watch you sleep, I know bro is romantical (but will never admit it) he will just stare at your features, it doesn’t matter if you snore or have your hair all a mess, or whatever, he just is so in love with you.

- He takes this time to reflect on your relationship together, he probably practices ‘gratitude affirmations’ and you are certainly one of them

- Not the type of person to fulfil his desires in your sleep, he'd rather wait till you're awake before initiating anything, HOWEVER, if you are the first to awake, he certainly isn't going to complain waking up to you under the covers, iygm 😏

- Note in diary: woke up to sloppy toppy at 7am

- Expect breakfast in bed at the weekends, those are the days he has more time in the mornings and will make the extra effort in pampering you. You like coffee? Well the man owns one of those fancy coffee machines, Idc what anyone says, he does.

- Kisses with the taste of coffee on his lips >

Fyodor

- This was hard but I like a challenge (plus the recent episode got me quaking)

- Fyodor does not sleep a lot, over working himself on his plots and schemes, 100% will need convincing to join you in bed

- He would wake up first, no matter what. You would never catch him sleeping, like ever

- even if you get up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet, the man just senses when you are awake (he is probably a very light sleeper)

- its most likely to do with the fact that when you are sleeping, its quite a vulnerable state and although he is comfortable with you, he struggles to turn that side of him off

- As he wakes up before you, it gives him a chance to watch you resting peacefully, he leans over you and just takes in the view

- He will gently brush the hair from your face and just… he just thinks you are precious and wants nothing more than to just take a moment and reflect on it

- If its coming close to having to get up for whatever reason, he will stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, most likely calling you Russian pet names and shit

- Although he is the first awake, he won’t get out of bed until you are ready

- I can’t see him being a person who’d want to cuddle in bed really, going to sleep or waking up. He is a little touch starved but in the sense that he doesn’t quite know how to be physically affectionate

- though catch him on a day where he is particularly sleepy, then he will be more likely to let his guard down and cuddle (he can’t keep up this criminal master mind shit 24/7)

- I don’t think he’d be super relentlessly horny in the mornings, but if he is for whatever reason, he would (like the whispering you awake HCs) he would probably give you a few sleepy neck kisses, caressing your body with his nimble fingers and enjoys watching you squirm and whimper yourself awake.

[dracowars]

astraphobia | rafe cameron

pairing: rafe x reader

word count: 1,5k

summary: where y/n is scared of thunder

a/n: my first ever rafe cameron fic, omg!!! i truly hope you like it 🤍 reblogging and feedback is always appreciated!! fun fact, which is more just a fact and not so much fun: i’m indeed scared of thunders & my parents always wanted to watch the lightning with me.. welp, guess i'm traumatized now lmao

warnings: angst, astraphobia

universe: outer banks

An incredibly loud bang rips through your bones, ripples through your entire body and you startle, your eyes widening and your heart racing. It takes a moment before you realize where you are and what you just woke up to. A heavy storm is raging outside and the masses of water falling from the dark sky are pattering against the window panes, breaking through the previous silence.

Trying to calm yourself down, you breathe in and out slowly and evenly, pulling the covers up to your chin even though the hot summer's day temperature has not cooled down in the night at all. You regain control of your body after a few seconds and all your muscles relax again. That is until the room brightly lights up before your eyes and the same loud, if not even louder and deafening than before, bang sounds immediately afterwards.

The thunderstorm must be right above you.

Anxious, you cling to the soft duvet, your body tense from top to bottom, but you do not dare to move a single muscle. Your gaze wanders through the all too familiar room that lies in front of you in the dark. You know you are safe here. After all, you are inside a house, or rather in Tannyhill - in other words: there really is no better place in the entire Outer Banks to be when a severe thunderstorm is raging outside. And even though you also know very well that nothing will happen to you, you can't help but be afraid. Incredibly afraid.

Even as a child you were abnormally afraid of thunderstorms and lightning in general and apparently this fear has only deepened over the years, still accompanying you. Back then, your father always wanted to watch the lightning with you that bathed the sky in such a bright blue light, but you immediately broke into a crying fit that lasted for hours and did not get better. At least it gives you a peace of mind knowing you are not alone in today's storm.

Well, at least not entirely.

A soft snoring sounds - only audible with great effort due to the loud rain - from next to you and knowing that your boyfriend is right beside you, with you, calms you down a bit. Once another bang rings through the room, you slide fully under the heated covers to hide, bumping your legs into Rafe's accidentally, but he does not budge. This thunderstorm does not seem to bother him at all anyway.

Tears well up in your eyes and your body is already shaking slightly while so much fear pours through you, pumping through your veins at the thoughts of what could happen.

What if lightning strikes? And the lightning rod does not work?

Freaking out on the inside, you try to tame your bad thoughts and instead think about something positive, literally anything else than rain or storm or lightning. And when that does not work, you just try to focus on Rafe's regular breathing, blocking out the world around you. At first, this method actually works quite well and your heart rate drops, but unfortunately it only lasts until the next thunder rumbles over your head, the room turning bright as daylight for a few seconds.

This time, your whole body jerks up and you end up covering your ears with your hands, but even that does not calm you down now. More unconsciously than you want to, you cuddle up to your boyfriend, whose body radiates a pleasant warmth as you come closer. Rafe is on his stomach, one of his arms hanging over the edge of the bed while the other, which he used to hold your hand tightly when you fell asleep, is next to your pillow. You snuggle up against him carefully, trying not to wake him, although, deep down, you kind of hope for him to do so.

You know Rafe would want you to wake him up if you were feeling down or needed help. But you swore to yourself you would not wake him. He has had a busy week and once again had to endure a heavy, undeserved lecture from his father today. You spent the whole evening comforting him until he finally fell asleep in your arms, and so did you, although you must have missed the storm warning.

Your panic and fear of thunderstorms suddenly take the initiative without you being able to stop yourself. You need him.

"Rafe", you whisper softly and barely audible as you put your hand on his bare shoulder and shake him lightly. "Babe?"

No reaction and the storm continues to wreak havoc outside.

"Rafe? Babe, please wake up", you almost beg him, on the verge of crying now, and you are about to give up and just get through the night when he suddenly shows signs of stirring. His shoulders tense under your hand as he takes a deep breath until you shake him again. "Please."

Apparently he has finally noticed you and slowly turns to face you, running his hand through his already disheveled hair. He looks at you with tired, half-closed eyes, but you are not sure if he is actually awake.

"Hm? What's wrong, baby?”, comes out of his mouth softly, his voice hoarse and groasy from sleep as he runs his hand over his face, confused. "What time is it?"

"Rafe, I'm scared", you admit, and your words seem to flip a switch inside of him, instantly activating his protective instincts that overlook even his sleepiness.

"What? What's going on?”, he asks you, worried but still not quite sane, his mind still caught in a dream world. He narrows his eyes tightly so that he can even make you - or rather your outline - out in the dark room in front of him. Before you can explain why you woke him up in the dead of night, however, your entire body gives a violent start again as a loud rumble of thunder resounds directly overhead. After that, it does not take words for Rafe to understand what is going on.

"Are you serious?", Rafe chuckles lightly to himself, as if he can't believe this is the reason you robbed him of his precious sleep. His words hurt you deeply and make you realize that you really shouldn not have woken him up.

"I'm sorry, I-", you start to apologize, but are promptly interrupted by a lightning strike that was probably very close by. The loud bang makes the walls shake and the rain falling from the sky intensifies. You huddle in fear, your head down, clutching the covers tightly.

"Oh, come here", Rafe chuckles, pulling you into his arms, his warmth welcoming your tense body. He gently lays your head on his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and hug you tight, giving you the protection you so desperately sought. As he stares at the ceiling and you just wait for another shock to go through your body, he draws patterns on your back, which is still hidden under the covers, with the tips of his fingers. How you can still lie under the covers at these temperatures remains a mystery to him.

"You are trembling, darling. Are you cold?", Rafe asks you softly, pressing his lips against the top of your head, gently tugging you closer and readjusting the blanket on top of you.

With a slight shake of your head you deny this, although you are not even sure if it is true. Your body is so tenee and your nervous system on fire that you can't tell whether you are warm or cold right now. But what you do know is that Rafe's closeness and mental presence somehow makes it better. The storm outside is not getting better by any means, but your heartbeat slows down a bit now as you focus on the patterns Rafe is still drawing on your back.

His other hand wanders over your lower body and finally slips under your shirt, which is way to big for you as you borrowed it from him to sleep in. His hand splayed across your stomach feels warm and you close your eyes for a moment, until the next thunder rumbles and makes you flinch.

"Shh, calm down. I'm with you. Nothing can happen to you here", Rafe whispers to you carefully, kissing the top of your head again and again while you listen to his regular heartbeat. "Not in my arms anyway."

"I know but.. Please, if it is okay with you, just hold me like this until the storm has passed", you ask him, cuddling up to and squeezing him even tighter, putting one leg over his waist.

"Of course, Baby. You don't have to ask me", he smiles softly and also hugs you tighter so that you face the raging storm outside together, almost forgetting the loud thunder as you listen to each other's breathing until you finally drift off into a deep and well-deserved slumber.

[drapopia]

a day in the life (cardinal copia standalone)

pairing: no pairing

warnings: mild language, terzo brings up in passing that he might get laid tonight

summary: Cardinal Copia is a strange man, but not an unkind man. Often nervous, but with a tendency to read people better than they could perceive of him. It's easy to wonder; just what exactly does this enigmatic man do in a day?

additional note: This is set before the Chapters, Copia has no idea he is related to his brothers, Sister Imperator, or Papa Nihil. But he has his suspicions.

word count: 3.6k

authors note: i want to eat copia alive. also this is my first time writing something like this, so comments and feedback are always extremely appreciated! thank you for taking an interest, i hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

———————————————

The dawn is breaking through the sheer curtains on the window, illuminating the dust motes in the air. The small television on the coffee table is still on from the night before, Super Mario 64 still loaded on the screen with the main menu. In front of the television set is a small bed, cloaked in a red duvet, and barely visible under the billowing blanket is a pillow swathed in a Star Wars pillowcase. Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader are locked in a stare, a mental battle of fortitude and will. The inhabitant of this room is in a similar mental war with himself. 

Under the blankets Copia is stretched out, one leg up to his stomach while the other one is stretched out like a stick. His cheek is level with his sheets, his lashes languidly brushing the linen below him while he thinks. He knows the first of his alarms is about to go off, his mental clock telling him it is just now turning 6:15, perhaps even 6:10. He knows he has to get up, but he’s dreading leaving the warm confines of his bed. Maybe I could manage to take a small nap between paperwork and my meeting with Imperator today…  He thinks to himself Oh, but I have a Latin for beginners class to sit in and observe for the Siblings certifications… He groans lightly under his breath as he resists the urge to curse, slowly curling into a ball, reaching his hand upwards to peel the duvet back and let his head peek through. He scans the room, not wanting to leave his bed. He blinks once, twice, clearing the sleep from his brain as best he could.

A deep sigh. Knowing he can avoid the day ahead no longer, he throws the duvet off, shivering at the chill of the small room. He knew that Primo rose even earlier than him, and chuckled at the thought of the older man watering his plants in the chill of the early morning dew. Maybe he should swing by the gardens on his way to his office, and say a brief good morning. Compared to his brothers, one stern and the other vivacious, he was slightly more down to earth. (As much as a prolific leader of the church can be.) While he wonders about how he can fit this encounter into his morning, he stretches, promptly cracking his back, a groan creeping out from his mouth. 

Copia pulls himself up, and begins his slow trek to the small personal bathroom he has, staring into the mirror. “A small trim of my mustache, maybe? How else will I keep the Siblings in line?” He chuckles to himself, running his fingers along his jaw. His sideburns could use a small shave, a bit unruly for Copia’s taste. 

 From the other room his alarm goes off, and he makes a light jog to his nightstand. He doesn’t use his phone much, but he has gotten the hang of setting up his alarms. Better than the one before, that nuisance, he thinks to himself. A small chorus of squeaks erupts from the corner of the room, the small chimes of the alarm waking his rats. 

“Yes my little ones, I will feed you soon! As soon as your papa gets clean, I will start your morning.” Copia coos from across the room, and walks back to his shower, turning on the water as hot as it will go. As steam fills the room, he takes the time to walk to the cage across the room in order to stave off the beginning of his busy day. He pops the cage lid on top of it, and reaches his hand in. 

The most mischievous, Sandro, runs up to his hand and gives a curious sniff. Copia runs his hand along Sandro’s spine, the approving wheet wheets making Copias’ lips curl into a soft smile. Francesca, the smallest of his rats, gingerly pats up to his hand and sniffs eagerly. He douses her in gentle scratches on the top of her head. In the corner of the cage his other two (quite large, admittedly) rats, Ira and Faustus, sleep in a delicate heap. 

“Oh, so sweet! I will have to swipe you all some blueberries from the kitchens, the kitchen ghouls will not mind… hopefully. Heh.” He makes a small grimace, remembering the last time a ghoul had seen him sneak out with snacks in the dead of night. They had not said anything, but the silence and their almost hypnotic stare made the embarrassment feel worse than a verbal lashing. Reluctantly, Copia closed the cage latch, and walked to the bathroom. He sighed, swiping his hands over his face. The day must begin, he thought to himself. 

-

Copia whined to himself, dropping his head into his hands. He wishes he had stayed in bed, damnit. His day had not been going… south per se, just definitely wonky. 

Papa Emeritus the III had clapped him on the shoulder earlier after their morning meeting, smiling with a small look of gracious pity.

“Cardinal, you do too much of the worrying, si? You are almost as bad as Secondo, just less of the frowning, of course.” He looked at Copia, whose eyebrows had drawn up in worry. “I guarantee you that the day will proceed as calmly as you wish for it to. You may even have time for one of your mid-afternoon naps you enjoy so much.” 

Copia had only sighed. “Perhaps, Papa. I will have to try to pencil it in.” Mentally he threw the idea away as he realized there would be absolutely no time for a catnap after planning his week's itinerary at the meeting they had just left from. 

Papa chuckled. “Of course you should! The Dark One encourages indulgence, who are we to deny his will?” His gaze turned inquisitive as he gazed at Copia. “Have you spoken to my brother about the arrangements for the sermon tomorrow morning? We have run out of black salt.” 

“Please be more specific Papa, you have two brothers.” Copia said, quickly mentally giggling to himself. Probably more from the way Nihil whored himself out all those years ago. But who am I to say, I do not know these things! Copia had to quickly bite his cheek, a nasty habit, as he stopped himself from giggling aloud. 

None the wiser to Copia’s internal quips, Papa Emeritus the III shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean Secondo of course, he is always so fussy about his sermons! Going on and on, he does. I am always asleep by the end, melted to the floor like his precious candles.” Papa smiled at Copia. “I am only joking, you know this? It is always my father who is slumped in the pews.”  

Copia let a cautious grin cover his face at that. Many times he had seen Papa Nihil hunched over in the front pew during midnight mass, curiously still with a measured rise and fall of his back. 

Terzo stopped sharply and turned to the Cardinal as they reached the end of the hallway. “Well, our little chat was nice, but I should be going now. Siblings to talk to, calls to make. You understand.” 

Copia nodded, “Of course Papa, perhaps I’ll see you later?” Copia didn’t mind talking to people, in fact, he looked forward to it. He just often found himself saying the wrong thing at inopportune times. While Terzo was a colorful horndog, he was good fun on occasion. It was more so that Copia hated crowds, he had since he was a child. It was always better for him to rush in and get out as quickly as he could, or wait behind the back of the queue for everyone to trickle out. But he knew Terzo had his side he hid, the one that Copia had only seen when they spoke quietly with a sense of brother-like urgency.

Terzo smiled, his eyes warm as he looked at Copia. “If our paths cross! I will see you at dinner, most likely.” He claps Copia on the shoulder. “If I am not having another meal in my quarters.” He smirks, and makes to saunter off, leaving Copia with only the thought of chasing down Papa Emeritus the II and inquiring about his taste in candles, and preparations for the Black Mass at the end of the week. 

It is now that Copia sits at his desk, his forehead resting on his steepled hands. I will die under a sea of paper. He thinks to himself, and his stomach gives a plaintive growl. With how his day was going, he had only had time to scarf down two cornettos before the early morning meeting, and had been surviving on coffee with cream and an egregious amount of sugar. The caffeine did little to serve him, it only made the absence of food worse. He knew these things, and yet here he was, sipping out of his small saucer of a drink that barely qualified as coffee anymore. 

He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, blinking his eyes which felt syrupy with sleep. He reached his hands up and took off his biretta, running his hands through his mousy brown hair. Maybe he’d have time to take a nice long bath tonight, curl up and pamper his babies? Maybe drive Miss Daisy? He opened his eyes and looked at the mess of expense reports he was currently sorting through. He leaned forward and rested his head against his desk, the cool wood welcoming. Maybe he could rest his eyes for just a few moments, just a break for his brain… 

-----

“-inal. Cardinal!” 

Copia awoke with a start, his biretta slipping off his head and drifting to the ground pitifully. He flung his body up and jerked his head up to meet the person who woke him up. Papa Emeritus the I stood towering over him, his posture still domineering even in his old age. He stared at Copia, his eyes curiously questioning in the low light of his office- wait. How late was it?

Copia swung his head towards the window and gasped. “Papa! I am so sorry, I- shit.” Embarrassment overtook him. “I, eh, was resting my eyes. The reports and such, they can be, eh… challenging.” Copia angled his face back towards Primo, feeling his face flush. To be caught slacking in his duties by one of the senior most Clergy members… he would think about this moment for years to come. As the owner of the second most employee of the months awards, he hoped this wouldn’t be jotted down in a performance report. 

Papa’s eyes shone in the ambient light of Copia’s tableside lamp, and his face softened by a portion. “Cardinal, it is not as late as you think it is. From the state of your hair, I only think it has been about, hm, twenty minutes or so since you drifted into sleep?” Copia let out an exhale, yet Primo continued. “I only closed the blinds for you. Tell me, do you perhaps have the schedule for next weeks’ pumpkin carving activities for the younger siblings? I need to prepare for the pumpkin harvest with the ghouls.” 

Copia nodded and scrabbled amongst the files on his desk, gingerly pulling out the paper and handing it toward Primo, who deftly took it. 

“Thank you, Cardinal.” Primo spoke firmly, gazing briefly around the room and then looking back at Copia. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, I will have a Sibling drop this schedule off here after I’m done looking through.” 

“Of course Papa, take your time” Copia was still fighting off the mortification that Primo had caught him asleep, especially since he was prone to drooling when deep in sleep. He would have to check his desk for any slobber once Papa had made his exit. 

Primo nodded, and walked towards the door to his office, and Copia took the chance while his back was turned to scan the desk for any drool. Luckily, he only saw papers, papers, and more papers. 

“Oh and, Cardinal?” 

Copia perked up and looked towards Papa. “Yes, Papa?”

Papa Emeritus the I smiled, his white eye held a subtle twinkle, belying his age. “You are lucky mio fratello did not find you sleeping on the job. He would never let you hear the end of it.” He swiftly turned to open the door, and slipped out, the door closing with a soft click.

Copia simply nodded, his ears were surely bright red. He hurriedly ran his fingers through his hair, and dropped his head onto his desk. “Shit, I just-ugh!” He was indeed lucky that Secondo had not caught him, the disapproving look and talking to he would have received would have ripped him in two. He just wanted this day to be over, and it was only 2 o’clock! Though he hadn’t smoked one since his novitiate classes, he could go for a cigarette right about now.

He rose up and took a deep breath. He couldn’t wait to be back in his bed, watching a movie, maybe playing his games, and curling up in his sweats. He would light a candle maybe, and then he would slip into blissful sleep. But for now, the work of the Cardinal was not done. Copia picked himself up with a small puff of air, and pushed in his chair behind him. He needed to go supervise the Latin class, and then check on the preparations for midnight mass for later in the week. He wanted nothing more than a nice coffee. 

-

Compared to earlier when Copia had wanted a coffee, now all he wanted was a stiff pineapple daiquiri. The sit-in observation at the Latin lesson had gone well (The siblings were sure to pass their certifications with flying colors, Sister Bianca was good at what she did).

However, the midnight mass preparations had gone to shit. The candles the clergy usually used were out of stock, and they weren’t with their current stock. He had even tried to call in a favor with their usual supplier, and they were too stretched thin even with the wiggle room they had. Not for the first time that day, he was beginning to think of just hiding in a nearby storage closet. Not that he had done that before, surely not. (Only once or twice, though he would never speak it aloud).

He made his way to Secondo’s office, his papers nervously crinkled in his hands. He often had the bad habit of wrinkling his papers in thought, and then discovering that they were bent every which way when he inspected them later. Thankfully, no one had ever commented on it, but he had received no shortage of stern looks from his instructors as a young man. 

His feet had led him to Secondo’s office, and he stood there contemplating whether or not to turn around and simply sprint to the nearest room and hide. While he wasn’t actually scared of him, he didn’t want to disappoint him. Copia never wanted to disappoint anyone. Sister had always told him he needed to keep in mind that there will always be somebody who will be disappointed. While these words did little to comfort him, they never really had , he knew they were true. It didn’t lessen the fact that Copia wanted to give good news whenever possible.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock on the door when it opened. Copia was only slightly shorter than Secondo, but he still had to raise his head up to meet his eyes. Papa Emeritus’ eyes stared back, his eyes glowering down at Copia. 

“Cardinal, I thought I heard you outside. Please, come in.” His baritone voice floated through the air, and Copia nodded quickly. 

As he stepped inside Secondo’s office, he found himself slightly relaxing. The scent of incense was strong, but not overwhelming. The lighting in the room was minimal, the only sources being the tall lamp adjacent to his desk, and the curtains that blocked the large window to his left. He shuffled in, sitting down at the plush green armchair in front of Papa. 

“So, Cardinal,” Secondo said, letting out a huff as he sat down in his own chair opposite Copia. His hands rose, steepled under his chin as he gazed evenly at Copia. “How are the candle orders for Mass this week coming along?”

Copia sighed, his hands coming to rest on his lap. “Papa, I will not lie, they are… not promising.” He said quickly. 

“Oh? And what exactly is not promising about them?” Papa spoke quietly, his hands uncrossing from under his chin and reaching out, gesturing for the papers currently in Copia’s hands. 

“I have been unable to get in contact with anyone who has them in stock. Papa, I don’t suppose you know anyone?” He leaned forward, handing the manilla file of papers to him. He was hoping, praying even, that Secondo might be able to help him. Besides the expense reports still sitting menacingly on his desk back in his office, Copia still had to sort through the mail he had received during the weekend. 

Secondo hummed, his gloved fingers flicking through the order forms. “I do.” He said simply, his eyes still looking over the papers Copia had handed him. “I can get in touch with someone. Consider it done, I’ll have a ghoul drop the finished form off in your office by the morning.” He locked eyes with Copia, a subtle smirk on his lips. “They didn’t let you call in your favor from last year, hm?” 

Copia shook his head, his anxiety rapidly fading. “No, they did not. They said they didn’t know what I was talking about, I think it may have been a lie.” He chuckled softly. 

Secondo scoffed, letting the papers fall from his hands back into the manilla folder on his desk. “Inutile (useless). We need to change providers, I believe.” 

Copia sighed, nodding quickly. “I agree, Papa. Thank you for your help.” He smiled softly at him. 

Secondo nodded, a subtle smile sent towards Copia. “Of course, Cardinal.” He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at him. “Now, I believe you have some expense reports from Terzo’s trip to Los Angeles to work through. I wouldn’t want to be you, especially with how much that idiota (idiot) spends on his hotel rooms. How a man could need that many extra towels is beyond me.” He shook his head with a barely audible scoff, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes close. Copia could see where the papal paint around his eyes had begun to crease, the wrinkled skin underneath peeking through. But just as quickly as he had seen it, Secondo had met his gaze once more. 

Copia rose from his chair, ignoring the twinge in his lower back. “Yes, Papa, of course.” He nodded once more towards him, and then walked quickly to his office door. He heard Secondo sigh from behind him, and the scratch of his pen against paper. And as Copia closed the door as quietly as he could manage, he let out a deep breath. One less thing off of his plate, he said to himself.

—

And just as quickly as the day seemed to slide downhill, it leveled out just as quickly. Copia briskly walked down the Abbey hall, looking to his right to gaze out the window as he passed by. The gentle rays of the last hours of sunlight shone through the glass, just soft enough to light the way without blinding him. Through the sunlight he could see the nearby forest, the green boughs of leaves bouncing in the summer breeze. He could see dots of picnic blankets dotting the courtyard, no doubt Siblings and ghouls wanting to take in the weather while they could. And even when the sun fell down below the skyline, he knew those same people would lay under the waning gibbous until the lightning bugs went to sleep. 

Copia smiled to himself. His reports were done, his belly full from the light dinner he had with Sister in the corner of the dining hall, and his back had popped when he rose from his office chair earlier. No more candle crisis either! 

As he opened the door to his quarters, bumping the door open with his hip as he held onto the small plate of fruit, he grinned at the sound of his rats squeaking from the corner. 

“Yes, I hear you bambini (babies), I have a surprise!” He cooed as he shut the door, quickly walking over the elaborate setup in the corner. All of his precious rats were up, their delightful little faces peering curiously through the bars. Ira and Faustus were now awake, pawing at the wire. Copia set the plate of fruit down on the adjacent nightstand, his hands quickly unfastening the top of the cage so he could look in from above. 

“Ah, sì, naturalmente, (yes, of course). I have not forgotten my promise! Look at all of you.” He whispered, his hands dipping into the soft bedding below to pick up Francesca. He holds her to his chest, reaching one hand over to grab a piece of diced apple. He hands it to her, a delighted smile gracing his face as he watches her small paws gingerly hold the apple and raise it to nibble upon. 

“Yes, cara ragazza, it’s all for you. Don’t gorge yourself.” He giggles, his hands holding her close to his chest as her tail wraps around his wrist for safety. His rats below squeak plaintively, clearly offended that he had picked Francesca up first. He laughs at the way Sandro has risen onto his back feet, reaching out to him. 

“Yes, you will all have some, I promise. Abbi pazienza! (Have patience!).” He shakes his head in false exasperation, his heart swelling with the warm feeling of a day well done, a duty well fulfilled. 

And he also has time to play Dr. Mario.

[jfleamont]

Put A Little Love In Your Heart

Here's a little something I wrote to stretch my creative muscles, let me know what you think :)

Word count: 700

Read here on AO3

“But I don't want to have a baby.”

Lily let his words sink in. The man in front of her was still looking at her, his brows furrowed.

She shook her head in an effort to conceal her reaction but it was fruitless.

As soon as James looked in her direction, she snorted and he followed her, doubling over with laughter.

“I don't see how this is funny. Have you been confounded? You must have, if you think I'm responsible enough to be your child's godfather,” Sirius whined.

Lily was the first one to recover. “Shit, Padfoot, I had no idea you'd take this so...” her eyes glowing with mirth.

“You're better than this, Lily...”

Lily grinned, reveling in the way she could rile him up so easily. “... Seriously.”

“Oh, come on!”

James, having finally calmed down, took a step forward and placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder, comforting his friend as well as himself.

“You're not having a baby, Padfoot, we are,” he gestured between him and Lily. “And contrary to what you might think, you don't live here. Oh, I almost forgot,” James winced, and ran a hand through his hair, “we're kicking you out of the guest room.”

“You're welcome to crash on the sofa anytime, though,” Lily offered.

Sirius sighed in mock defeat, and plopped down on the armchair. “Kicked out again, uh. Who are you, my parents?”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Quit being dramatic, Sirius. Being a godfather isn't as terrible as you think.”

He shrugged, but the poorly hidden smile on Sirius' face didn't fool Lily. He leaned back on the armchair, looking rather uninterested, only his quirked brow betraying his curiosity. “Alright, but what does it entail, exactly?”

James opened his mouth but soon realised he didn't have an answer for him. He had never met his godparents, and both Fleamont and Euphemia were only children, too, so that was all he had known. He sat on the sofa opposite Sirius, Lily following him shortly after. Lily, however, had an answer. “I'm not sure, but my godmother gave me lots of presents and brought sweets everytime she visited. I also told her about my first kiss and she was so cool about it! She was the best.”

“So... All I have to do is spoil Bambi? And he'll love me and tell me all his secrets?”

“Told you it wasn't that bad.”

He seemed to ponder her words for a second, then tilted his head and looked at her amusedly. “Seems like you two got the short end of the stick, doesn't it? Have fun being the strict parents while I take him with me on my new bike.”

“You will do nothing of the sort.”

“Ugh, you're already so boring and he's not ever here yet.”

James, who had been silent up until then, cleared his throat and spoke. “There's also something else, but you don't have to worry about that. It's... You'd be his legal guardian so if something were to happen to us, he'd stay with you instead of Petunia.”

Understanding dawned on Sirius, and the two looked at each other. 

You're my brother, you're family. These were the words that James hadn't said aloud, but that Sirius heard anyway. This exchange only lasted a second, and Sirius' somber expression disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by his signature smirk.

“Well, I'd be more concerned about Vernon rather than Petunia. Imagine growing up with that as your father figure when you can have me!”

Lily chuckled and threw a pillow at him. “Don't be an idiot, we still have time to change our minds. Peter or Remus will be far more grateful, dont you think, James? I'm sure they'll—”

Sirius waved his hand in dismissal. “That won't be necessary, I accept. But I'm still bitter about the guest room, mind you, and I'm going to hold it over your head.”

James nodded, deep in thought. “Hmm. How do you feel about a dog house?”

“Neutral, but I could be persuaded.”

“What if I told you it had pillows and a silk duvet?”

Sirius gasped and brought both of his hands over his mouth. “You know me so well, Prongs.”

[clockworkcrane]

Haurchefant Week 2023

Day One: Imagine 1270 Words - Rated T for Drunkenness & Pining (but it's pretty wholesome) They stagger home near sundown, a pair of newborn deer trotting through the darkened streets of Ishgard, their breath smelling of mulled wine.

Fortunately, the foyer of Fortemps Manor is empty when they arrive. The house’s occupants have long since retired to bed, and there are none present to pass judgment upon Haurchefant as he hauls the Warrior of Light down the corridor, singing a drinking song under his breath – or at least, the single verse he can remember of it, repeatedly.

Aramond mumbles something unintelligible, then scoffs and snickers to himself, resting his forehead against one of Haurchefant’s pauldrons. The sound is catching. By the time they reach Aramond’s chambers, Haurchefant is also giggling like a schoolboy.

“Shh.” The Warrior of Light bids him be silent with an air of utmost earnestness, which redoubles Haurchefant’s laughter.

They spill into Aramond’s room. Haurchefant unslings the other man’s arms from his shoulders, pouring him into the bed. It has been stripped bare, he notices, of most of the covers. The duvet lies in a heap on the floor, along with several pillows, leaving Eorzea’s champion with naught but a drafty sheet and a solitary place to rest his head. He does this with enthusiasm, burrowing his face into the cushion.

“Hold,” Haurchefant says, straightening himself as he wrestles back his laughter. “That will not do, unless you aim to suffocate in your sleep.”

“Mmhm,” Aramond replies, his voice muffled. Sighing, Haurchefant grabs him by the shoulder and rolls him onto his back with a concentrated effort.

Aramond reaches up and curls his fingers over Haurchefant’s forearm, pulling him closer. It takes Haurchefant a moment to realize that the other man is merely using him for leverage as he settles back down onto the mattress, making himself comfortable. The realization does nothing to dislodge his pounding heart from his throat.

“It is stifling hot in here,” he remarks, reaching for his gorget.

It is the truth. Although the Warrior of Light keeps the curtains tightly drawn to block out the sun, the space is hot as a furnace and heady with the scent of incense. It is the same scent that clings to the man’s robes: crushed herbs and resin. Haurchefant unclasps his gorget and removes it, letting the humid air cool his neck as much as it can.

“Helps me think,” Aramond mutters, peering up at him.

A fond smile tugs at Haurchefant’s lips. “And the complete absence of light? Is that also to aid you in your contemplations?”

“I see better in the dark,” Aramond retorts, giving him a rare smirk.

“That, my friend,” Haurchefant replies, not unkindly. “Is ridiculous.”

“If the dark and heat are not to your liking, feel free to retire to your own chambers, ser knight,” his companion grouses, tearing off one of his gloves.

Haurchefant says nothing, his protests snuffed like a candle. For he does not wish to retire to his own chambers so long as he is welcome here.

His eyes follow the arc of Aramond’s hand as it ungloves the other, noting the ink stains on his skin. His only callous hugs his right middle finger, formed by the frequent holding of a quill. How different from the roughness of Haurchefant’s palms and the pads of his fingers, smattered here and there with scars.

His head is still swimming with wine. He plants himself on the edge of the bed next to Aramond, swaying as he reaches for his own gloves. The cool air on his bare skin as he peels them off is a relief. He does not realize his eyes have drifted shut until the soft sound of Aramond clearing his throat snaps him back to attentiveness.

“Truth be told, I am still adjusting to the light and the snow,” the Warrior of Light discloses, looking past him, his hands folded on his chest. “The sun does not oft reach the Brume, and I never went further than the Foundation as a child. The climes were different then, as well. As you know.”

Haurchefant’s lips part in surprise. “You hail from Ishgard? Why have you never said anything? I offered you the drinking tour— you accepted--”

“I was hardly familiar with the local taverns before.” Aramond sounds bemused as he sits up, propping himself on his elbows. “I left when I was sixteen.”

“Still!” Haurchefant exclaims. “To think. All that time. I might’ve passed you in the street!”

Wincing, Aramond mutters, “Well. Not likely.”

He tilts his chin toward the ceiling, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Haurchefant tries and fails not to follow the column of his neck to where it disappears into the open collar of his robes.

“You would have had no cause to speak to me, if you had noticed me at all.”

The words are almost an afterthought. Aramond is still pondering the ceiling.

“I am fair certain I would have noticed you,” Haurchefant replies carefully.

Aramond lowers his gaze, meeting Haurchefant’s eyes. “I was nobody.”

“Nobody?” The knight scoffs, incredulous, shaking his head of silver hair. “You? Never. I would have seen you, just as I did at Dragonhead, and known you straight away to be a friend.”

He can see the skepticism on Aramond’s face as he lowers himself back down, sinking into the pillow. The Warrior of Light sighs lightly, closing his eyes. Then, the ghost of a smile passes over his mouth.

“I can just picture us,” he says. “A scrawny orphan from the Brume and a young squire of House Fortemps: inseparable companions… it makes for an unusual sight. Do you think we would have sparred often? Tracked mud from the Brume through the clean halls of Fortemps manor?”

Haurchefant leans forward slightly, his own grin broadening. “Without a doubt. I did that any number of times without having made your acquaintance.”

“It would have been attributed to my terrible influence, I’m sure,” Aramond muses.

“On the other hand,” Haurchefant counters, indulging in the fantasy. “I imagine we would have been at the books in father’s library far more often than I cared to be on my own, as a youngling. Knowing you.”

“I would have liked that,” the Warrior of Light laughs, his expression softening.

“As would I have,” Haurchefant confesses. His face feels pleasantly warm, and he is not altogether certain it has anything to do with the wine. “If it were with you.”

“Haurchefant.”

Something in Aramond’s voice makes Haurchefant’s heart flutter. The Warrior of Light’s eyes are still closed, his mouth still curved into a slight smile.

“I have never liked Ishgard better than I do in your company.”

Haurchefant dares to inch his hand closer to Aramond’s, where it has alighted on the bed. “Then full glad I am that we met, even if it was later than I would have liked.”

“For my part, I am glad that everything came to pass exactly as it did,” Aramond mutters, his voice growing softer, dwindling to a murmur. “If, in any other life, I had not chanced to meet you at all, then I… I…”

He trails off, leaving Haurchefant to wait on tenterhooks for his conclusion, only to realize it isn’t coming. For a moment later, the champion of the Light, the chosen of Hydaelyn, the savior of Eorzea, lets out a quiet snore and shifts in his sleep, burying his face halfway into his pillow.

Haurchefant’s shoulders slacken and he chuckles lightly, an overwhelming sense of fondness welling up in his chest at the sight. He stands, reaching for the cover, and pulls it up to Aramond’s shoulders.

“Sleep well, my friend,” he says.

[atlantis-prince]

HC + 😴 + 🧼 + 🚶‍♂️+ 🥣 + 🐈 + 💍 + ❓

Heard you wanted to write HCs and I’m happy to help! I tried to pick some I don’t think you’ve explored yet. Your choice which verse(s). Enjoy! -Pele!Mun 🔥

Thematic Headcanons. A series of subject-specific headcanons you can ask your favorite blog and muse.

😴 for a sleep-themed headcanon

Dartz sleeps with just bottoms. His top half is exposed due to getting hot and fidgety at night. He also likes to hold something while he sleeps, wether that be a pillow, duvet or lover. ~

🧼 for a hygiene-themed headcanon

The man goes through a tonne of hair products just to keep his hair fresh and in tip top shape. If he neglects that care - it is a tangled mess. He does not like getting the knots out. He doesn't like being dirty at all, so he'll shower 3/4 times a day if he's sweaty/messy.

🚶‍♂️ for a habit-themed headcanon

Listening to the oceans waves outside his temple. Usually after dinner or just before he goes to bed, the sounds are calming.

🥣 for a food-themed headcanon

Dartz isn't really fussy with what he eats, but he does like higher end things - being of a royal background. Cheese boards are his favourite, combining them with his favourite wines and fruits. Though his diet is more based on being vegetarian but he isn't opposed to meats either. Potentially pescatarian.

🐈 for a pet/animal-themed headcanon

Any stray animal that he finds, he will care for. No harm shall come to animals. Especially ones that have been abandoned or left.

💍 for a jewelry-themed headcanon

He actually owns a few head pieces. Like the one that holds the orichalcos stone, it makes him feel like royalty and gives him a sense of importance.

❓ for a headcanon of the receiver's choice

Weapon themed HC - His favourite is the sword. But he can actually dual wield and use two blades. He prefers to keep a hand free in case of any spell usage and for better aim of his blade. He wants to be good at both offence and defence rather than leaning towards one or the other.

[softyoongiionly]

Power Trip

You and Jungkook make a bet to see who can last the longest in bed. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

Warnings: explicit smut, oral (f receiving), spit, swearing, fingering, Jungkook

A/N: If I ever tell you I don’t have a bias wrecker, call me a liar. Also this one is for @bulletproofbirdy​, I hope Jungkook can lift your spirits. I love you so much! also, this unedited cause im the worst :D This can be read in the same universe as my fic Press Start btw! 

He smirks, “You really wanna go there?”

You shrug, “I’m just saying- I know I can last longer than you can, that’s all.”

At this, his brows raise as a short and unimpressed laugh leaves his lips, “What led you to that conclusion?”

From the opposite end of the couch, you feel him staring at you. His competitive nature is simple minded and easily baited into situations where it’s able to prove itself; Jungkook simply cannot resist a challenge.

“I mean-” You bite your lip, “You are usually begging me to cum at some point...”

His smirk only broadens, “Oh? And you think I do that for my benefit?”

Oh.  

Staring into his eyes, the two of you regard one another for a moment, sexual tension floating aimlessly in the air above you.  

“I want you to consider the fact that you’re looking your fiancé in the eye and, telling her that you’re faking something in bed...”

Jungkook finally laughs at that, his head falling back on his shoulders momentarily, “Whoa whoa whoa- I never said I was faking it, I just said I wasn’t doing it for my benefit. I beg you to cum because, I know you like it- not because I can’t control myself.”

“Oh so it isn’t that you’re faking it- it's just not as good as you make it out to be...” You clarify, voice loaded with sarcasm, “That’s so much better.”

Jungkook clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth, “You know that isn’t what I'm saying...”

You cross your arms, trying your best not to notice how good your fiancé looks lit up by candlelight, “No actually, I don’t know that.”

He knows he needs to choose his next words carefully because, this conversation can go one of two ways. One, the two of you spend an undetermined amount of time tangled up in one another and two, he ends up in the doghouse.

“Well you should-” He insists, “Because I don’t lie. I’ve told you that you’re the best I’ve ever had and, I meant that. All I’m saying is that I can make you cum first- and that has nothing to do with how good you are. It's just how bad I want to make you cum...”

You feel your lips twitch, “Even if that very convenient explanation were true- it doesn’t change the fact that I can last longer than you...”

Jungkook chuckles finally and the sound of it sends a shiver up your spine. He jerks his chin towards you, “You wanna bet?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip as you feel your heartbeat increase slightly, “What are your terms?”

He shrugs but his palms are already itching with the desire to touch you, “Who ever cums first loses...”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, nudging your foot against his leg, “Yeah I got that part but, how are we going to do this?

Again he shrugs but this time the smirk creeps back onto his mouth, “Oh well- if you’re asking that, this really isn’t going to be a fair fight...”

He’s such a little shit.  

Your lips part with shock whilst your eyes blink owlishly at him before you decide that you’ve had enough of his attitude.  Flipping the covers over your head, you work your way across the couch until you’re positioned between Jungkook’s legs. He snickers when you maneuver the covers over your head, doing his best to assist you until you’re finally free from the endless swath of blankets.  

“H-” Jungkook opens his mouth to make another comment but, your lips stop him from doing so.  

You’re irritated with his goading but, you know that you can’t just start roughly making out with him in order to turn him on; you have to take things slowly.

Situated atop the seam of his grey sweatpants, you press your hips down carefully whilst you kiss him. He’s lost in your mouth the moment he feels it, his fingers coming up to brush over the apples of your cheeks. They encase your face moments later and, you make a conscious effort to ignore how good this is. He tastes like the sweet mint mouthwash he uses but, the rest of him smells like amber and vanilla.  

Outdoing Jungkook is so much easier said than done.

But what you don’t know is that he isn’t fairing much better.  

The softness of your lips and the tiniest instabilities in your breath are going straight to his dick. His hands find themselves sliding at a snail-like pace up the backs of your thighs and, god he can’t help himself as he grips at the flesh there. He always says he would die happily in between your thighs and even though you laugh, he’s dead serious. They are so perfect.

Deep in the trenches of his muscular chest, he groans when you grind against him. His breath coming out much shakier through his nose before he finally pulls away,

“Bedroom?”

You hum, pecking his at his mouth again, “What about it?”

Jungkook smacks your ass suddenly and just as you yelp, he’s recapturing your lips all over again. Only this time, he starts leaning you backwards towards the couch and it’s many blankets.  

“Do you want it here?” He breathes, “There isn’t a lot of room...”

He’s right.  

The couch is good for cuddling and making out but, actual sex is usually out of the question- especially when it’s so cold in your house.

Moments later, Jungkook is throwing the massive pile of blankets onto your bed and, just as he’s about to climb up there, you stop him by cupping his face in your hands. Your grip is gentle and your lips follow suit, plucking against his minty mouth. In the midst of kissing him, you reach behind his head, feeling around for the scrunchie holding up his mane of hair. Once you locate it, you carefully pull back until his pretty face is curtained with ebony tendrils.  

He doesn’t question your decision. In fact, there isn’t much Jungkook would question right now. His attention is on you and, your deadly assault on his composure. When he feels your fingers tuck into his hair, he realizes he’s beginning to forget the reason why he needs his composure in the first place.

“You’re so handsome,” You whisper, “like a prince...”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at your comment whilst his hands reach out to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against him. His palms travel up your back, cursing the thick fabric of your hoodie for being in the way. He knows it’s practical but, he doesn’t care. He wants to touch you.  

“I’m cold-” You pout into his mouth, “Can we get in bed?”

He returns your pout and nudges your nose before reluctantly removing his hands from your back, “Yeah...let’s go.”

Jungkook unturns the winter duvet you have on your bed and, lays the pillows down flat, gesturing to the empty space which then causes you to shoot him an apprehensive look,  

“It’s going to be so cold.” You whine and the sound if it forces Jungkook’s lips into a fond smile- completely against his will.  

“I’ll get in first-” He assures you and just before he flops onto the sheets, he yanks his hoodie and t-shirt over his head. The presence of his body alone is a defeat to all other men you’ve been with. The tan skin, the tattoos, the softness of him reminding you that he is a walking example of duality...

It’s a lot.  

But you have to stay focused and, when he settles onto the mattress and pats the empty space beside him, you waste no time in returning to your earlier mission.  

“C’mere...” He mumbles once you’re beside him, his voice deep with arousal.

The two of you resume your kiss and, this time there is a bit more urgency in the way he moves against you. He nudges your nose as he introduces his tongue into your mouth. Pulling away slightly, he continues moving his tongue along the length of yours until the two of you are properly French kissing one another.  

It’s sloppier than his usual style but, you aren’t complaining; he tastes amazing. And the way he’s licking into your mouth reminds you of what his mouth feels like when it’s elsewhere-

“I used to see people in porn kiss like this-” He whispers, “I never understood the appeal of sucking on someone’s tongue until I met you...” With his admission, he does just that, taking the tip of your muscle between his lips.

Mouth open around the entirety of his, you grip his biceps as he continues to suck on your tongue. If it were anyone else, this would feel awkward and sloppy but with Jungkook, it’s so unbelievably hot. He’s working his way over you until his tattooed arms are settled on either side of your head. Rolling his body downward, he presses his hardening dick right against the seam of your leggings. He pulls off of your tongue then and resumes kissing you normally, his lips are wetter and there’s so much spit involved in this kiss but, you couldn’t care less.  

You wanted all of him.  

Jungkook uses the strength and control he has over his body to grind against your aching core with precision, the curve of his dick sliding sinfully onto your neglected clit. Even as the pleasure begins to drown out the logical side of your brain, you desperately try to remind yourself that you are still in the middle of a bet.  

“You feel so good-” You make sure to play up the whimper that leaves your lips whilst your nails begin at his wrists and slowly drag up the bulging muscles on his arms.

His dick twitches in his sweatpants and, you take that as an opportunity to wrap your legs around his hips. The strength of his arms gives out then as he opts to rest on his elbows instead. He’s still kissing you but now the two of you are grinding against one another as if you were fucking.  

“Yeah?” He smirks against your mouth, “Good enough to cum on me?”

His attitude returns causing you to dig your nails into arms. You pull away from his mouth and shoot him a look of determination, “In your dreams...”

He snickers, sounding rather cute for a man who is literally throbbing between your legs. He licks his lips as he stares down at you for a moment, cocking his head to the side, “My dreams...” He clarifies before kissing his teeth, “I guess you’re right ah? If this were a dream of mine, you would have already came all over my tongue...”

His words make you bite your lip, your hips involuntarily curving up towards his. He snickers again, leaning away when you try to reconnect your lips, “You always tell me to go for my dreams though, don’t you baby?”

At the moment, Jungkook’s voice would be unrecognizable to anyone else but, you. It’s so deep and raspy and, only thickens as he gets more and more turned on.  

“I will cum on your tongue,” You murmur suddenly, pecking his lips, “after you cum inside of me.”

This time, it’s Jungkook who retaliates with movement, his hips rolling down at a sinful depth, causing your clit to throb with anticipation.  

He lets out a breathe from between his lips whilst he shakes his head, his dark eyes flitting down to where you’re connected before returning to your face.

“It’s so much better when I cum in you after I’ve eaten you out though-” He insists with a pout that would look innocent if this were any other scenario, “If you hold it after what I’m about to do to you, then I’ll let you have a turn with me- sound good?”

He’s so fucking cocky sometimes, it makes you want to scream. However, this wouldn’t be much of a bet if the two of you just had sex; you know that you’d have to let him touch you properly at some point, even if it would be devastating to your odds of winning.  

“You’re going to cheat- I can literally feel it in my bones...”

Jungkook chuckles and slowly begins his descent down towards the ache between your legs. When he gets to your stomach, he carefully peels up your hoodie to expose the band of your leggings. He kisses along the skin there with gentle and unhurried movements, licking once just below your belly button and smirking as he hears the giggle that tumbles from your lips. Sitting up slightly, you watch as he hooks his fingers underneath the black fabric and peels it back until he’s working it down your legs. Jungkook knows that you don’t wear underwear with these pants, especially not around the house- but it doesn’t stop him from biting his lip at the sight of your bare pussy anyway.  

Jungkook gently pries your legs apart and, you find yourself biting your lip when the cold air from the bedroom weaves its way onto your swollen, wet folds. You already want to tell him to stop- not because you don’t want it but, because you are severely doubting your ability to last.  

That doubt only increases when Jungkook settles onto his stomach and positions his mouth at the apex of your right knee, “You really do have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen...” He says this as he starts sponging his lips up your inner thigh, his eyes looking straight up at you, “Did you know that?”

With your breath increasing, you do your best to remain calm as he nears your lips but, it’s so hard when he’s intentionally saying all the things you want to hear.

But two can play at that game...

“You think so? I try to keep it all pretty for you...” The tone of your voice takes him off guard a little bit but, he isn’t complaining.  

He secretly relishes in the moments that you’re soft towards him; so much of your relationship is banter and, constantly trying to get on eachothers nerves.  

Jungkooks starts at the other knee then, kissing his way back down towards your center, “You don’t ever-” He bites down and then pulls back, “ever, have to try to be pretty jagi. You just are.”

The sensation of his teeth causes you to jump, your movements coaxing a chuckle from Jungkook’s throat.

He kisses his teeth, “Easy.” He teases with a smirk, his mouth finally hovering of your pussy.  

“Sorry-” You murmur coyly, licking your lips, “I just want your mouth so bad.”

Jungkook is about to lick up the length of you but, he stops at your confession and kisses the top of your pussy instead, “You do huh?”

It’s not really like you to plead for him as usually things are quite playful in the bedroom and, as you mentioned earlier: it’s usually him who’s begging.  

Nodding, you reach down for his fingers, lacing them with your own as you dial up the sweetness in your tone to 100%, “Please? Can I have it? I’m so wet for you Jungkook- it hurts...”

The moisture leaves his mouth when you say his name. He’s never heard you quite like this before and, it’s driving him crazy.  

He wants to give you everything.

“Whatever you want baby- I'm right here...” He mumbles against your skin, kissing the top of your cunt once more before shooting a somewhat intense glance your way, “...and I’ll make sure you give me what I want in return.”

With that, he licks up the length of you, collecting all of your arousal in middle of his tongue before drinking you in as best as he can. The feeling of his mouth finally meeting your cunt is enough to make your hips jerk from the bed. He takes that as a sign to wrap his inked arms around your body to hold you in place as he gets to work on you.  

He uses the tip of his tongue to gather as much of your wetness as possible, groaning ever so softly when the taste of you graces his tastebuds. His hands are resting on your stomach but, he uses his thumbs to pull your pussy taut so he has better access. Your clit is amply exposed now allowing him to tease his languid muscle against it, the sensations making you dizzy.  

You can feel your nipples hardening to the point of discomfort when he suckles the sensitive bud into his mouth. He only does it for a second before settling for laving his tongue up and down your clit. Breathing heavily, you tug up your hoodie to expose the rest of your upper half, your hands going straight for your neglected nipples.  

“Fuck-”  

You hear him curse and look down just in time to see that although his mouth is busy working on your pussy, his eyes are locked onto you.  

And you take advantage of that, pinching your nipples you say, “Your tongue feels so good, no-” You let your breath catch on the end of the sentence, “nobody does it like you Jungkook...”

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment and, he looks like he’s like he’s in pain. But suddenly, he moves hands from your stomach and, grips the outside of your thighs- pulling your legs apart and pushing them up. With your knees up in the air and your pussy spread completely open, Jungkook quickens the pace of his tongue on your clit. Licking over it with a consistent pace that your fiancé knows all too well, you feel the pit of your stomach begin to grow in preparation for your orgasm.  

You need to act fast...

Letting out the tiniest whimper, you reach down towards his hand again and grip onto one of his fingers, “Can I have your fingers please? I need you to fuck me so bad baby- please? I’m so close...”

Jungkook’s eyes are blackened with pure lust, his lips still kissing and licking at your clit as he moves his hand, somewhat hesitantly towards your dripping cunt. He looks so torn but, you can’t completely figure out why, but you have a feeling.  

He licks your clit once more as he lines his index finger up at your entrance. You can see how wet his mouth has become when he pulls away slightly to watch his digit disappear inside of you. Immediately, your pussy clenches around his finger, sucking it in with desperation. Jungkook groans as his eyes squeeze shut again but, he manages to return his lips to your clit, resuming his earlier motions.  

The pleasure from by his dual movements is causing your entire body to ache with need. You don’t think you can hold back your orgasm much longer, not with his finger quickening it’s pace inside you. Surrender is on the horizon; if you aren’t going to win this bet- you may as well just enjoy yourself.  

“Can you fuck me faster Jungkook?” You moan, licking your lips and rubbing your fingertips over your nipples, “You’re making me feel so good...you’re so strong.”

And faster he goes but, he only maintains the pace long enough for you to whimper one more time before he suddenly pulls away. The loss of contact shocks and disappoints and, you’re about to protest until you notice what’s going on.  

Jungkook is sat back on his knees, lips wet with your arousal, nipple hardened with his own and, grey sweatpants stained with precum. He’s taking a deep breath through his nose, his hair hanging in his face whilst he looks down towards his dick.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You murmur, sitting up.  

The promise of an orgasm is slowly fading but, the concern flooding your mind distracts you easily.  

He shakes his head, “No no- I'm good. I just uh-”  

Jungkook’s hand moves quickly, cupping over his dick and prompting another deep but shaky breath from his chest.  

And then it clicks...

“Wait-” A grin spreads across your lips, “Were you about to cum?”

“No.”  

But he won’t look up at you, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he presses his hand down even harder.  

“Jungkook-” You get up on your knees, your chest blooming with pride as you crawl across the bed towards him, “Were you about to cum?”

When you ask him again, there is a bit of laughter at the end of your sentence that causes him to shoot a glare your way.

“You were cheating...”

A sharp giggle leaves your throat, “I was cheating??? The bet was to see who could last longer and, you literally just pulled away before you were going to cum.”

Jungkook smirks, “You were fucking cheating.” He insists, “With that fucking voice of yours and your hands all over your tits; don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

He doesn’t swear often but when he does, it always gets to you. His voice his so husky now and that paired with the rest of his visuals is enough to force you into your next move.  

Suddenly, you grip his chin and angle his upwards, “Admit that you were going to cum.”

His eyes widen then, that familiar doe eyed look infecting his gaze; it’s the same look he always gives you when you take charge.  

But as much as he loves to submit to you, he almost hates losing more.

Almost.  

“No...”

Your teeth find your lip again as you smirk, your other hand sliding down his flushed chest towards his throbbing cock, “Admit that you were going to cum baby, so we can put you out of your misery...”

He shakes his head and although his hand twitches at his side, he makes no move to stop you, “I wasn’t, I was just-”

You cock your head, your hand tucking beneath the band of his sweats, “You were just what?”  

As he feels your hand encase his dick he crumbles, his whole body slumping forward, “Fuck-”

His forehead is on your shoulder now, his stomach caving in as you begin stroking his cock. You can feel how hard he is now, his length jumping in your hand, the tip of him covered in precum...

Your lips are at his ear whilst he bears his teeth, “Admit that you were going to cum sweetheart- and then I’ll let you put it inside me...”

“No-” He growls, “You were cheating, I- ugh...” He whimpers, his teeth sinking into the ball of your shoulder when you quicken your pace on him.  

You giggle, turning your head to the side so your lips are at his ear, “What a shame- you're going to waste all of this cum on your pants when you could be pumping it inside of me...”

Jungkook groans, his teeth nipping at your shoulder once more, “Let me cum inside of you please- wanna fuck you so bad...”

You’re focusing your hand on the tip of his cock, massaging it within your grip and, at this point- Jungkook is leaking so much precum, you aren’t sure if he managed to sneak in his orgasm without notice.  

“You can fuck me when you admit that I won.” You nibble on his ear, “That’s all you have to do baby- then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“But I wasn’t going to cum-” He still insists, his voice more of a whine now his hands desperately going for your hips.

Pouting your lips, you increase your pace on him for the final time, the sound of you jerking him off filling the room, “Well you definitely are now, aren’t you?”

“Fucking- fuck me...” He moans, his nails digging into your sides whilst his hips jerk up against your hand, “Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum...”

The admission is involuntarily as he paints your hand and the inside of his sweatpants with the his hot release, cumming all over himself.  

“Mm there it is- that wasn’t so hard was it?” You tease with a bit of laughter as you stroke him through his release.  

He lets out a shaky breath, moaning again as the rest of it comes out but, before you’re even able to process what’s happening, his using the grip he has on your hips to shove you back against the bed. Your back hits the sheets as your eyes widen and despite his sweatpants being stained and his dick throbbing with sensitivity, Jungkook is prying your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance.

“Ju-” You begin but he cuts you off as he pushes inside of you. The thickness of him is so perfect and your pussy swallows him whole, unable to get enough. Through your efforts to tease him you had forgotten how close he had gotten you but, he was about to remind you exactly what he was capable of.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth-” He growls, his eyes piercing into yours, his swollen lips curved into a smirk, “Unless it’s please,” He thrusts, causing a whimper to leave your lips, “Thank you,” Thrust, “Or Jungkook...”

His pace is fast but it’s completely perfect and, it isn’t long until your orgasm comes crashing into your body, the pleasure peaking as he fucks you harder.  

“J- Jungkook- Oh god....” You moan, reaching down to rub at your clit, which only spurs you on further, “Oh my god...”

He chuckles darkly through bared teeth, his sweaty tendrils of hair jerking back and forth with his motions, “I guess I’ll settle for god too...”

Leaning down, he hovers over you as you continue to cum and despite the smirk on his face, he presses his lips to yours sweetly- kissing you through the rest of your orgasm.

He lets up the intensity inside of you, for both your sake and his, slowly allowing his hips to come to a stop. With destroyed breathing patterns, the two of you kiss each other for a while longer until he makes the painful decision to pull out of you. Still kissing at your lips, he slumps over beside you, blindly pulling at the duvet to cover your shivering bodies.

“I love you.” He chuckles boyishly, completely giddy from your encounter.

The sound of his laughter makes you smile into the kiss, “I love you too.”

He brings you closer to him so that he can hold you, his lips moving to press against different parts of your face.  

Laying on his chest, you feel content as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

After a few moment of post orgasmic bliss,  Jungkook whispers,

“ Jagi?” He mumbles to which you respond by humming, “I was definitely about to cum...”

[readerstories]

Body Heat - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

Summary: Been re-watching Criminal Minds lately, and ofc reading fanfics, and I see that there are very few male readers out there so here’s at least one. Some classic bed sharing because something breaks during a snowstorm and it’s freezing, so time to share body heat ;) (AO3)

Warnings: nsfw, smut

Wordcount: 3891

A case in a small and remote part of North Dakota during the middle of the coldest winter in memory was not ideal to say the least. 

You liked snow and the cold, but even you had your fill by now. Everything is frozen, the ground, the bodies of the victims, even the snow was crunchy and no good to make snowballs with. (All of you had at one point or another almost face planted before getting wise and buying shoe spikes.)

At least the case was over and you had caught the killer alive this time, so that was good.

What was not good, was the snow storm currently raging outside the cabin door, causing the whole team to be stuck waiting for it to clear so you could take off. Because of course, this being a small town, there was no hotel, only small cabins to rent. But at least there were beds to sleep in, a small desk with a chair, a small bathroom (and a fireplace that you had yet to use), which was really all you needed.

The team had split up, since there only were two queen sized beds in each cabin. You had ended up with Hotch, which you really didn’t mind. He was always a quiet roommate, very polite and proper. Didn’t talk much, mostly went right to sleep when he got in, or stared at case files all night.

He was doing the latter right now, while you try to read a few more pages of your book before planning to go to bed for the night. You are trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, determined to at least reach the end of the chapter before sleep takes you. The only lights in the room were the one above your head, and the one on the desk Hotch was using which made it actually kind of cozy, which made your goal even harder.

That coziness disappears in seconds however, when the lights flicker, and then turn off.

Silence, then the both of you try to turn the lights back on a few times. Hotch’s cell pings with a new text, which he quickly reads, the cold light of the screen now being the only light source. 

“Seems the power is out, Morgan is going to the reception house to ask the owner about it since he’s in the cabin closest by.”

“Okay, good, at least it’s not only us.” A few beats of silence, and then another text. Hotch frowns as he reads it.

“Seems like the whole town is dark, the storm has taken out the power, but this place has generators.”

“Great!”

“But it only covers the essential stuff so no pipes will freeze, so we need to keep everything else off.” You nod, forgetting he can’t really see you in the dark.

“So only heat on in the bathroom I’m assuming.”

“Yeah.” You both eye the fireplace, and you sigh. 

“The owner told Morgan they are fully usable.”

“Well, let's see if I remember how to light one, it’s been a while.” You get out of bed, walking over to the fireplace to start trying while Hotch texts with someone, presumably Morgan again.

Stacking wood and finding some old newspaper curled up in the firewood basket, it only takes two tries and a few minutes to get a budding fire going. Proud of yourself as you watch the flames slowly catch while crouching in front of it, you feel Hotch’s eyes on you.

“Did Morgan say anything else?”

“He suggested we move to fewer cabins. I told everyone to stay in their respective cabins, we don’t need anyone risking going out in this weather when we all have good heat sources.” You nod, getting up and stretching.

“Well, I’m going to brush my teeth then try to sleep, and you should too.” Hotch opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him.

“You can look at those casefiles tomorrow, a fire is not the best light source when reading and making notes.” Hotch sighs, knowing that irritatingly you got a point. You smile a quick smile before going to the bathroom. While you’re in there the lights you had turned on before come back to light, but Hotch is quick to turn them off, two small clicks following right after one another. You check the oven in the bathroom, turning it down to half, knowing that should keep the temperature above freezing at least.

Neither you or Hotch speak another word to each other before going to bed, curled up almost fully clothed in your respective bed in the already colder room, even with the fire now going quite well in the fireplace.

You close your eyes, sure that sleep will come easy, as it was not that long ago you had almost fallen asleep while reading, nodding off between each sentence on the page.

But sleep doesn’t come.

Instead, you lay there, head empty of any thoughts, calm, but still you just can’t sleep.

You hear the wind blowing outside, each gust of wind making the cabin creak and groan quietly, barely there, but noticeable in the quiet of the night. The fireplace crackles, giving back at least some of that cozy feeling from earlier.

You can also hear Hotch toss and turn, which is unusual for him. The few times you had seen the man sleep or just been in the same room as him while he did so, he had been still, almost never moving other than his chest going up and down with each breath.

It takes an audible shudder coming from the other bed for you to realize why.

Hotch is cold, very much so. You can’t help the little smile that grazes your lips, almost a quiet laugh in its own right. So the cold is what does the big bad unit chief in huh?

You don’t feel good about it for long however as it’s clear that some solution to the problem is needed, as Hotch sounds no nearer to sleep than you are, and you are certain that like this neither of you will get any rest soon. So you cast a glance over at the fireplace before quickly getting out of your bed. Hotch quietly speaks your name, a question more than anything else. You drag your mattress, your pillow and duvet in front of the fireplace and put it down, turning to face Hotch, who has propped himself up on an elbow, confusion in his knitted brows.

“Come here.”

“What.” The tone is deadpan, not really a question in the word.

“I can hear your teeth clatter, I know you’re cold, so take your duvet and get in front of the fire.” Hotch slowly does as he’s told, surprisingly without asking anything. Or maybe he just sees your point. He drops his duvet next to yours, farthest from the fire, but you tut, moving it closest instead.

“You’re the coldest one, so you can sleep closest to the fire.” Hotch quirks a brow, but sits down on the floor as close to the fireplace as he can.

“Are you sure there is no ulterior motive? Maybe you just want it to be me to catch fire if things go wrong.” You grin, loving when Hotch lets his humor shine through his normally stoic facade.

“Maybe.” You get down on the floor too, laying down at the same time as Hotch. Before he can really react, you pull him close to your chest. It’s the surprise of it all that lets you drag him so he’s tucked under your chin, his hands on your chest.

“What are you doing?” You feel his whole body stiffen, even his words come out like that.

“Body heat.” You hum. Hotch stays stiff for a little while, but then there’s a big sigh as he relaxes a little. Slowly, one of his arms goes over your sides, still slightly unsure about this situation. You smile, resting huffing out a small laugh.

It’s already a lot warmer this close to the fire and though sleeping on the mattress on the floor like this isn’t the best, it’s better than being cold at least. And you’re not complaining about having an excuse to hold Hotch close like this, feeling him shift as he tries to get comfortable.

You feel your eyelids grow heavy, sleep creeping up on you as you get warmer. The last thing you hear before slipping into dreamland is the crackling of the fire, and a faint snore coming from Hotch.

----

Sadly, you wake up just a few hours later needing to pee. You somehow manage to get up without waking Hotch, so you are as quiet as you can be while doing your business. He’s still asleep when you get back, face relaxed.

You stop briefly to watch him sleep, as weird as you know it is. It’s just that you rarely see Hotch without a frown or a face made of stone, so you drink in the sight as long as you dare. Which is only a few seconds, but you stop yourself when you yawn.

With quiet steps you walk over to the mattress, slipping under the duvet and back to the shared warmth. This time it’s you that are dragged into Hotch’s arms as he mumbles something in his sleep. You try not to make any sound of surprise, as not to wake him still. You don’t mind this turn of events at all, as Hotch mumbles some words into your hair before they yet again turn to occasional soft snores. Letting out another yawn, you slip an arm over Hotch’s waist and let sleep take you.

----

It’s still dark out when you wake next, although this time of year it doesn’t say much.

This time it was Hotch moving that woke you, as your arms have made their way around his chest like he has done with his, holding him close and feeling his every move. You can tell by his breathing and movements that he’s awake, so you slowly talk, more or less asking the only question you have right into his chest.

“What time is it?” Another movement, most likely checking his phone.

“6:30 AM.” You groan, his deep and sleep laden voice doing things to your heart and brain you don’t have the awake awareness to think about right now.

“Back to sleep it is.” Hotch chuckles.

“This is past the time I would normally get up.”

“Is the storm still going on outside?” You both listen, and yes, over the low crackling of the now almost dead fire you can still hear the wind taking a hold of everything around it.

“Sounds like it.”

“Great, more sleep for us Aaron.” You can’t see the raised eyebrow, but you can almost hear it in his voice.

“Aaron?” You nod, trying to get in the perfect position to go back to sleep.

“Yeah, it feels weird using your last name when I’m cuddling with you.”

“Sharing body heat.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Aaron chuckles, and weirdly enough he ruffles your hair a bit. Your heart aches at the familiarity of the motion, but again, not awake enough for any of that.

It is then that it happens. In your effort to get comfortable, you shift your leg a little to high, and suddenly your thigh rubs against a clothed, but very obivous, erection. Aaron draws in a small sharp breath as you turn to stone for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, I, uh-” Suddenly more awake, but still not quite there yet, you say nothing at first. You could have made some lame joke about it you suppose, but instead you are just as awkward as him.

“It, it’s uh, fine, um..” Silence for a few beats, then you come to a mutual and unspoken agreement to just ignore it.

However, you find that no matter how hard you try, you can’t.

You’re not pressed up against his crotch or anything anymore, you moved your leg way too fast out of the way for that to still be the case.

But you are still in Aaron’s arms, which makes it hard not to think about it. He’s warm, a little soft, strong, and you can smell his cologne this close. His breath is steady, but too steady, like he’s trying to will himself to sleep. Your head almost spins by the feeling of it all, and your thoughts are no help either, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

The noise he had made had made you stiffen, perhaps from other reasons than you would like to admit.

You don’t know how long you both lay there, trying to or pretending to be asleep, but you know it feel like forever and torture of the slowest kind.

An idea slips into your mind before you can really stop it, making everything else go quiet.

What if you did it again?

You had for a long time admired Aaron, perhaps in more ways than you were willing to admit to yourself or anyone else. And in some fleeting and weak moments you had thought he might be too. A lingering glance or two during a case when he thought you wouldn’t notice, him letting small smiles slip onto his face more often when you were around, him bringing you coffee from time to time.

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself as you move your leg again.

Another sharp breath from Aaron.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you still with your thigh pressed up against his still there erection.

“Trying something.” A beat where neither of you move.

“Stop me if you want.” Aaron says nothing and does nothing, so slowly, oh ever so slowly, you use your leg to rub against him. His breath deepens, and one of his hands moves to your hip, but doesn’t push you away, simply letting it rest there. Your own hands roam across his back, shifting, fluttering, trying to find purpose. In the end you grasp the back of his t-shirt as you slowly start to try to move him too.

Aaron groans, something that makes your own dick start to stir, and then he’s moving, and oh.

He seems in no rush, just rocking his hips ever so slightly forward, pressing himself against your thigh.

His breath is speeding up, and so is yours, almost panting in the quiet of the room.

As good as you are sure it feels, you want more, you almost need more. Removing one hand from his back, you replace your thigh with your hand, rubbing and fully feeling Aaron’s dick strain against the front of his pants. A hitch in his breath, an audible swallow, him continuing to move, now into your hand, spurs you on.

As far as you can tell through the fabric, Aaron is rather large, and certainly excited. You let your hand wander, squeeze, and rub as you please, every so often pausing to grab at his thigh instead, teasingly letting your fingers drag and dance along it.

A thought, and then your other hand is in front of you, gently touching his chest. You back away a few inches, careful to keep your touch still on him. Casting a glance upwards as you start to push his t-shirt up from his stomach, you’re met with intense eyes watching your every move. You swallow, Aaron’s eyes shift to follow the motion, then to your lips as you lick them.

He lets you push his t-shirt up under his armpits, and only then does he do any of the work himself, lifting himself up slightly so he can take it off and drop it on the floor behind you. You don’t let your eyes or hand linger on his scars, instead focusing on his chest.

He’s less hairy than you imagined, but you don’t care at all.

And you had imagined it.

But nothing could compare to the real deal. Feeling him turn to putty in your hands as you rub him through his pants, hear him groan as you let your hand brush against a nipple.

“God, fuck, you-” Aaron stops himself, letting out another groan as you you lean forward and plant a kiss on his chest.

“Ah, fuck, come here.” Before you can ask what he means, there’s a hand in your hair yanking you up, and then you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing Aaron Hotchner.

Fuck.

Fuck yes.

In less than a second you’re kissing back, mouths uncoordinated and messy as they meet. Your hand which had stopped rubbing him, starts up again while you kiss, and he moans into your mouth, which, fuck, that’s hot.

Both of his hands tangled in your hair pull you even closer as you both almost forget you need to breathe, only breaking apart to gulp down some air before diving right back in, lips moving firmly against each other.

Aaron is the first to add tongue, which makes you let out a little gasp, giving him full access.

He takes the opportunity, and not to be outdone, you move your hand from his bulge to the button on his pants. A noise of disappointment turns into a small moan as he realizes what you are doing. With all the noises he is making against your lips, it’s hard to concentrate, so you break the kiss so you can concentrate on zipping him down, and getting into his pants. Aaron moves forward so he can kiss along your throat, letting his teeth nip along the little skin that is showing from under your shirt.

“Fuck!” You groan, feeling the small smile Aaron can’t hide as he kisses your skin.

“Could get used to hearing that more often.”

“Yeah, good, fuck.” You curse whoever invented zippers as you fumble with it as if you were a fucking teenager.

Finally, a few seconds later, you are able to shove your hand into Aaron’s underwear and the smug smile you could feel against your skin turns into a moan.

“Fuck.” It’s low, but you hear it, glancing at him with a grin.

“I would like to hear that too.” You say as you start to pump his length, using his pre-cum as lubrication. Another nip to your skin makes you moan.

“At least your shirts have higher collars.” Aaron teases as he moves his hands from your hair to the hem of your t-shirt, dragging it up. You let go of him only so you can take it off fully, then your hands are right back on him. One on his dick, the other tugging slightly at a nipple.

Aaron drags you in for a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as he lets his hands wander all over you. Up your sides, over your chest, down your stomach. Your breath hitches as you think you know where he is going, but instead his hands settles on your ass, pulling you even closer, so close you can barely move your arm, but fuck, he raises his leg a little and now your hard dick is rubbing against his thigh. He rocks forward, seeking friction for you both, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth.

His cock is heavy in your hand, heat radiating from all off him were you are pressed close, still under the duvets. Your movements aren’t rushed, neither of you in a hurry to finish, but fuck, it feels good. Every rock of Aaron’s hips moves his dick in your hand, and presses him against yours, building up on the desire you feel taking over you.

One of his hands move from your ass to your hair, pulling at it as he stops kissing you briefly to moan into your throat.

“I’m close, fuck.” Your eyes flicker all over his face, greedily drinking in the look in his face. The normally stoic Aaron coming apart in your hands  is a sight to behold. Hair sticking in every possible direction, breathing heavy trough kiss-bruised lips is a sight you will carry forever.

You nod quickly, diving on for another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, come on, don’t hold back on my part.” Aaron groans as he comes, cum seeping trough your fingers as he shakes apart in your hold. You keep gently stroking him as he comes down from is orgasm, stopping when a shiver runs trough his body.

You’re still pressed close, so you you notice quickly when one of his hands moves down your front. He squeezes your cock trough your pants, and you buck your hips into his hand. He chuckles, and then he’s unbuckling your pants, and within seconds his hand is around your cock and moving. You moan, trowing your head back, giving him ample space to lean forward and kiss along your neck.

“Fuck, ah, no marks.”

“Good for you that it is scarf season.” Like the fucking tease that he is Aaron lick a long stripe along your throat, but he does move further down, sucking and biting bruises into the skin on your chest as his hand moves up and down slowly on your cock.

You can’t help the noises the escapes you, moans and groans mixing with heavy breaths. his hands is firm on you, taking you closer and closer with every second, building up until your toes starts to curl.

“Fuck, A-Aaron.” He hums against your skin, placing a last kiss on your collarbone before moving so you’re on eye level once more, a hand in your hair tugging lightly.

“Don’t hold back on my part.” The words are said with a small grin his face, and you div in to kiss him as you cum, spilling all over his hand.

For a few minutes, neither of you move, just catching your breath together in silence. You are the first to move, twisting around so you can get your t-shirt back. Aaron frowns, but you just use it to wipe his hand off and yours. You kiss his knuckles after you clean them off, getting a single laugh as a reaction. Discarding the t-shirt once more, you tuck yourself back into your pants, Aaron doing the same.

A few beats more of silence, both of you not really knowing what to say.

“That was-” Aaron breaks first, but stops himself.

“Yeah...” You can’t help but slowly break into a grin, then a little laughter. He does the same, quiet laughter and a smile making your heart warm as he pulls you back into his still shirtless chest.

You let him, content and almost ready to fall asleep again, but not before you get out some last words.

“Next time I would prefer a bed though.”

“Next time?” He questions as his hand settles against your back.

“Mhm.”

“Alright, I’ll remember that.” He ruffles your hair, placing a single kiss on top of your head. Within minutes you are asleep, back to dreamland in your arms, for once content with sleeping in.

(You don’t take your scarf off on the whole way home, but if anyone in the team notices, none of them mention it, but you can see a smirk threaten to break out on Hotch’s face every time he glances at it.)

[safetycar-restart]

Can we talk more about omega!Max and resisting his omega instincts? I feel like Max would have some internal shame about a) being an omega and b) acting like an omega which meant that his instant response would be to deny himself the comfort that he really needs. And he’s probably been doing it for years - he’s so repressed and he really needs a bit of loving. But then you come along and you help Max to see that there’s nothing to be ashamed of and you help him to start indulging in those instincts - you encourage him and praise him and he starts to love it? I think the first time you got him to nest with you, he’d be so overwhelmed he’d just cry and cry, letting out years of repression. Gradually and with your help, he’d become so much more accepting of his omega side and he’d finally get all of the comfort he’d secretly needed for so long.

Yes of course we can! I love how every time we bring up the omega verse, everyone gravitates towards omega!max. as we should, honestly.

I'm making this that you work for red bull in some capacity, but I also have a whole idea for you being omega!max's neighbour that we can discuss if you guys would like.

So yeah, max absolutely struggles to accept that he's an omega, and that he has very stereotypically omega desires. I actually think that at his core, max really is the stereotypical omega. He wants to be loved and cared for and make nests and have all his pack in the nests and wants to submit to an alpha and is sensitive and all of that.

Which actually makes it so much worse.

Because it's not like his designation is omega, but he doesnt want to do all those omega things. Because he does. He wants to so bad. Yes he wants to race and win, but he wants to celebrate the win by crawling into a nest so bad his chest aches.

He pushes all those instincts down, refuses to acknowledge them except when in heat because then, he cant do anything about them.

And then you come along.

I think all the other alphas max encountered before you took one of two ways when dealing with him: they either treated him like another alpha or beta or they tried to force him to change.

You did neither.

You were just so... soft with him?

He acted all harsh and almost alpha like with you, as he did with everyone else. And you responded by smiling and speaking to him so softly, like one would speak to a frightened pup and poor max had no idea what to do.

You get to know him better, having genuine conversations with him and never trying to get him to change.

But you do make sure to complement max all the time, treating him like he's something previous and worth protecting even though he doesnt act like it all.

Of course this causes max's instincts to go absolutely insane, because there's a nice alpha giving him attention! Nice alpha that seems to like him!

As for getting him to accept his instincts, I think he might see you embracing omega typical behaviour? Like he walks into your hotel room for something and he sees your bed has so many blankets and pillows and it looks so soft.

It actually has more blankets and pillows than max's bed, and omegas are supposed to make nests to help them sleep.

After he sees your bed, he cant stop thinking about how comfortable it would be. He tries to sleep on his bed that night, with his single pillow and duvet and he just cant get comfortable.

His instincts wont settle, making him feel like a terrible omega for not having a pretty nest to show the alpha that's been so good for him.

And maybe max ends up napping on your bed? He doesnt intend to but he's so tired and he ends up knocking on your hotel room door the next night, instead of opening his own door.

You let him in of course, encouraging him to cuddle up in your blankets and even offering to let him take some blankets back to his hotel room.

From there, it gets easier.

It's never easy, but it's easier.

[bacchira]

pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

a/n: part 2 of 3 of my birthday present for the lovely @tenkoushimura <3 posting this now, so it’ll be up when you wake up :* happy birthday, darling <3

word count: 961

summary: Building a blanket fort and cuddling inside, turns out to be kind of romantic, even between two best friends.

For quite a while now, you’d been feeling this strong desire to build a blanket fort and allow yourself to get in touch with your childish side. Allow yourself to just hang out and relax. And this obviously you’d been bugging Iwaizumi to build it with you, because who would be better to do it with, than your best friend? Your best friend whom you did have a crush on, but never allowed yourself to act on, because having him as your best friend was already all that you felt like you could wish for.

However at first, he didn’t budge. He simply refused every time you brought it up. But with your birthday coming up, you had a plan. Because how was he going to refuse you when you told him that you wanted to build one as your birthday present? That’s right. He wouldn’t. What you didn’t know though, was that he had his own plans.

“You want to build a blanket fort?” He simply asked you, when he came over to spend the day with you on your birthday. For a moment you just stared at him as your heart did a little flip flop, that he’d decided to give in on his own. Then you nodded at his request.

“Yes, please!”

Building a blanket fort with Iwaizumi was definitely one of the best ways you could’ve spent your birthday, and he also seemed to enjoy himself quite a lot, for someone who’d been holding off for so long. But yet here you were. Huddled together inside of the best blanket fort you’d ever built; complete with fairy lights, pillows and snacks that Iwaizumi had conveniently brought along. Oh and obviously a computer for you to watch a movie on together.

“This actually feels kind of romantic, doesn’t it?” Iwaizumi didn’t even look up from the movie as he spoke, but you could feel your stomach fluttering at his words and your face heat up as you looked over at him.

“I— I guess,” you said, cursing yourself for stuttering. Clearing your throat, you tried again to clarify, hoping not to be found out. “I mean it would be. If, you know, we weren’t just best friends of course.” This made him look up from the movie and turn to face you entirely. He studied your face in the dim lights, and to you it felt like he was looking straight into your head and picking each and every little thread, following them to make a complete picture. Although his gaze was scrutinizing, it was the words he spoke that truly had you reeling.

“Are we really just best friends?”

“Wh—What do you mean?” That cursed stammer that betrayed your rush to search for the right words. betrayed your nerves. Being around Iwaizumi had always been easy, even when you’d realized your crush on him and hid it from him for so long. Being around him was simple and comfortable. Always had been, but something about the atmosphere and the intimacy under the fairy lights, tightly squished together, had turned you into a nervous mess.

“I mean,” he said and leaned in slightly. “That we’re not just friends, and you know it just as well as I. We’re more than that, are we not?” Iwaizumi drew back then. Eyes still searching your face, yet picking up on both the your lips pressed together, the heat of your face and your hands fidgeting with the duvet. “Unless I’ve read it all wrong. I’ve read it all wrong haven’t I? Shit I’m sorry, I’ll—“

“Hajime.” Putting one of your slightly trembling hands on his arm, Iwaizumi stopped mid sentence. “You— you haven’t. I think.”

“You think? What does that mean?” His voice was soft. Hopeful as his gaze fixed on your hand against his skin. The tenderness of his entire presence and the admission of his words gave you courage to speak clearly. Or at least try to.

“I don’t think I actually realized, but…” you swallowed and felt yourself involuntarily squeezing his arm, even searching for his calm influence on you, even at a time like this. “I do like you though. Like… more than a best friend.” You’d finally admitted to your feelings, and despite it all, you still feared to be met with rejection. You didn’t. Instead, Iwaizumi settled down entirely, shifting and opening his arms to pull you in. All the way in and you felt yourself cuddle up against his chest as he urged you even closer if possible by wrapping his arms around you.

“I— I hope you like your present then,” Iwaizumi said against the top of your head.

“I did! Getting to spend time with you and building a fort together was—“

“Oh but that’s not your actual present,” Iwaizumi cut you off, and having known him for so long, you could hear the smile on his lips. You turned your head to look up at him as he opened his mouth to speak again. “This is,” he said as a means of clarification. Then he put a hand on your chin, tilting your head a bit further back, before leaning down to capture your lips with his own. Your lips moved together and you could feel yourself melting into your best friend. Or maybe he’d be something different after today.

“Yeah. I definitely liked my gift,” you said to him when the two of you broke apart for air. Kissing Iwaizumi felt almost dizzying. Intoxicating.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got more to spare,” Iwaizumi said with his usual confidence back in place as he pulled you back in for another kiss. For another, more persistent and demanding kiss, that was exactly what you’d imagined kissing him would feel like.

[dontworrysunflower]

You Make It Better | h.s.

warnings: DEPRESSION, i apologize if i do not portray it correctly, i wrote what i could figure out from the internet. if this triggers you PLEASE DO NOT READ OR READ WITH CAUTION, nudity (? idk they shower together), very cheesy sorry

a/n: this is something i wish i had rn because even thought i’m not diagnosed and definitely think am depressed so ig that is where this came from. please, if you ever need someone to talk to, my messages are always open and i have no life so i’ll answer as soon as i can, asks (anonymous too) are always open. also i’m bad at endings so excuse that. (and writing his accent but we’ll ignore that)

word count: 2.9k

feedbacks/reblogs appreciated

masterlist

It was a late Saturday morning when you realized it was going to be a really hard day with your depression. You had woken up earlier than Harry, which was very rare. His arm was tucked between your neck and the pillow, hand laying softly on your arm, your head just below the right swallow tattoo on his chest, the inked butterfly on his stomach stretching with every even breath he took in his sleep.

It wasn’t much longer until he eventually woke up, his fingers suddenly grazing your arm as he fully opened his eyes to look at you. He lets out a guttural groan, stretching his legs under the blanket.

“G’mornin’ lovie,” he said groggily, voice rough as he bends down to press a light kiss to your hair. You don’t move, only your nail lightly scratching his side. His face scrunches up in confusion, and you knew if you were to look up at him you would burst out in tears just from how cute he is. “(y/n)?” He asked, moving down on the bed to be face to face with you. “You okay, baby?” His nose nudged yours, but again, you don’t react. You don’t even look him in the eyes.

All you do is shrug to his question, a little hum falling past your lips.

Then it struck him, and you see the exact moment when it does. But his face doesn’t change to a sympathetic look, he doesn’t frown at you with a sorry look.

Instead, he gives you a small and sleepy smile and pushes a strand of your hair away from your face. He scoots closer to you, moving you to sit on his lap, his boxers laying low on his hips, his inked fern leaves peeking through.

“Another one of those days?” He asked quietly as he moved to put his head right next to yours, his eyes looking up at you.

“Yeah.” You mumble, reaching over to grab the pendant of his necklace, rubbing the green cross with your soft finger.

“How bad?”

You continue to drag your finger over his cross pendant, eyes fixated his chest hairs. You sigh heavily before parting to answer. “Nine.”

“Hmm.” He kissed your forehead. “What made it a little betta’?”

You finally looked up at him, his emerald eyes still had a glassy look, still not fully awake. You’re hesitate to speak, your mouth opening and closing, thinking whether or not you should say what’s on your mind.

Very early in your relationship, you told Harry that it was hard for you to open up to people. You told him your illness made you feel like a burden towards everyone you know, you told him that there may be days where you wouldn’t want to see him because you’d feel like you're getting in the way.

But unlike the other people you’ve been with, he understood and was patient with you. And even though there were days that got really bad, he stayed by your side.

“You can talk to me, baby.” Harry took your hand that was holding his pendant, his finger grazing the skin of your thumb.

Your lips slightly quirk up, but not enough to really show that you were happy. But he could see it.

“You make it better.” You maneuver your hand that was in his to now hold his hand, bringing it closer to your chest and play with his ringless fingers.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look up at him worriedly, scared you’ve said the wrong thing.

But when you do, his face was the definition of happy. He was smiling so wide, his dimples were showing. There was a light hue on his cheeks, bringing his face to life.

You wish you could be that happy right now.

He brought you closer to his chest and pressed his lips to your matted hair. “Wanna just stay in bed all day?” You nod against his chest. “Whatever you want, love.” His arms tightened around you, bringing you impossibly closer, giving you a silent message of I’m here for you.

“Do you want something to eat? Some tea, maybe?” He asked sweetly as he started to pull away, his feet hitting the wooden flooring on your shared bedroom.

You looked up at him, hesitating to answer, but his fingers scratch your scalp in encouragement, his green eyes looking down at you sweetly. “Could-” you hesitate. “Could I just have some tea, please? Peppermint, if we have any.”

He nodded, bending down to press to place a kiss to your nose. “Anything to eat?”

You shake your head and bring the duvet to your face.

Before he can get too far, you grab his hand, getting his attention as he starts to walk away. “What’s up, baby?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you asked shyly, afraid he’ll reject you.

Instead of answering, he just leans down to peck your lips, but you hold his jaw and keep his close.

You give him one last peck before you pull away slightly, lips bruised to a pink color, faces still close.

You peck him one last time then back away, bringing the duvet to your chin.

“Don’t be too long.” You mumble.

He chuckled and kissed your head before walking out of the room.

•••

He comes back a couple minutes later, two mugs in his hands, a banana in between his lips.

You sit up against the headboard, the duvet just under your stomach that’s covered in one of Harry's old striped shirts.

“Thank you.” You mumble as you take the pastel orange mug from Harry’s hand.

You both sit quiet as you sip at your hot beverage, Harry offering you a bite of his banana after a while, but you decline.

Harry takes your empty cup and leaves it on his side table, the banana peel hanging from the rim of his mug.

“Do you wanna do anything?” He asked beside you, taking your hand in his.

“Ca-” You hesitate, scared he’ll say no or you feel like you're being selfish for what you're about to ask. “Can we just cuddle?” You asked with a pout, looking down at your lap.

He lets out a little giggle, getting under the white duvet. “I’d never say no to your cuddles.”

He pulls you close to his chest, the hair on his legs tickling your silky ones. His tattooed arm comes to lay over your stomach.

After a while, your eyes begin to sting, your sight becoming blurry, tears falling down your cheeks.

Harry seems to feel your salty tears fall on his chest. He plays with the ends of your hair and then rubs your arm. “Let it out, baby.”

Your shoulders shake as you sob, uncontrollable tears falling down your cheeks.

Harry held you tighter as you hiccuped, breath evening, eyes shutting as you fall asleep.

•••

When you woke up, the room was drastically darker. Harry’s side lamp was the only source of light.

Harry’s torso was against the headboard, one hand tangled in your hair, the other holding up a book as his eyes scan every word on the page.

When you shuffle under his touch, he closes his book and lays it by his side. “Hi.” He leans down to kiss your head, his hand now by your waist, playing with the hem of your (his) shirt you’re wearing that has risen up.

“What were you reading?” you asked meekly after you yawn, moving your arm across his fern tattoos.

“Love is a mixtape.”

“You love that book.” Your head moves up and down with his chest as he laughs. “Can you read some to me?”

“Sure, baby.”

•••

He had read a chapter or two when you realized, a small gasp leaving your lips. “Weren’t you supposed to go to the studio today?” You held up your weight against your arm, your hand digging into the mattress under you.

Your face scrunched up in guilt, your mind racing with the thought of getting in the way of Harry’s music, never wanting to be the reason he stopped working.

He just hums and and folders the corner of the page he was on before closing the book and leaving it on his side table. “I called Jeff when I was making the tea that I wasn’t going to make it today.”

“But why? You were excited to-”

“No one that matters, baby. There was no way I would’ve left you here by yourself.”

“I would’ve been fi-”

“No, you wouldn’t have and you know it.” His voice changed completely, more firm and stern than how he was talking earlier today. “Baby,” he started, he shifted in his spot on the mattress, turning completely towards you, taking your hands in his. You’ve always loved when you held hands. Loved to feel the comparison in size from your to his and your thumb always grazed his cross tattoo. You always get butterflies when he touches you, and that hasn’t changed since the beginning of your relationship that felt like so long ago.

“It’s okay to not be okay. I know it’s a struggle and everyday I wish I could take this pain from you, but I can’t. The best I can do is be there for you and hold you. And you may feel like you don’t deserve it, but you do. You deserve happiness and more. You may feel like every little thing you do bothers me and others but you don’t. I love you with my entire being, (y/n), and I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me.”

You scoff through foggy eyes, but his dimples and freckles are still prominent in your vision.

“In the rare times that we’re not together and I’m with other people, the first thing people ask me is how you’re doing. Shit, I even get asked about you in interviews and fans I meet on the street ask about you.”

You’re full on sobbing now, his pretty words too much to handle, an overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude and happiness filling your chest.

“You’re not a burden, baby.” He said softly as he pulled you into his lap, his rough fingertips sipping the salty tears from under your eyes. “Say it, please.”

You take in a shaky breath, but an even, firm breath comes out, the ache in your chest a lot lighter, less painful. You lick your chapped lips before speaking, “I’m not a burden.”

His lips press to your temple, the warm skin. You both cry, holding each other tighter than what you thought was possible. You nuzzle your face into his neck, breathing his warmth and scent.

He sighs and gingerly kisses your forehead, his finger twirling the ends of your hair.

“Wanna go take a shower?” Harry asked, your legs tangled with his under the comforter. “We can watch a movie or something after, yeah?” He pushed back the stray hairs that had fallen out of your ponytail, the tie loosening its grip on your hair as you moved around the bed throughout the day.

“Yeah.” you mumble, eyes droopy again, energy slowly fading as the sun faded from the sky.

“C’mon, baby.” He wiggles away from you, standing on the side of the bed, his hand out for you to grab.

You move the duvet off you, goosebumps forming on your exposed legs and arms because you were only wearing one of Harry’s old shirts.

He takes your hand as you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, your feet softly landing on the wooden flooring of your bedroom.

Harry raises your intertwined hands and tenderly pressed his lips to the back of your hand, his dimples smile forming when he sees a blush form on your cheeks. “C’mon, love.” He leads you towards the bathroom, quickly turning on the light.

You walk behind him as he makes his way further in, opening the glass door of the shower to turn on the water, letting it get warm before he turns around to you.

He lifts his own shirt up, exposing his tattooed chest. “You too, love.” He chuckled at you as you just stood there in front of him.

He drops his shirt before tugging at the hem of yours, his eyes looking into yours for approval. You give him a small nod before he brings it up your torso.

He helps you undress the rest of the way, which was quick because you only had your underwear left.

You stayed close as Harry quickly undressed. The butterfly on his stomach expanded as he took in a deep breath, his hand reaching towards you again to lead you to the spraying shower.

The foggy glass door springs open and Harry steps aside for you. “Ladies first.”

Harry’s hand leaves yours to lay it on your back as you step into the steaming shower.

•••

Harry just finished washing your hair, his fingers raking through your wet strands, his chin resting on top of your head. Your hands mindlessly run up and down his back, your cheek against the swallow tattoo on his chest.

His thumb rubs against the side of your face, catching your attention. You look up to his green eyes looking down at you already, his dimples lightly denting his cheeks. “You’re pretty.” He spoke softly, his eyes shifting around your face.

You sheepishly look down at his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly tattoo on his stomach.

He chuckles at your shyness and kisses your forehead. Even though you can’t see it, he looks at you like you hung the moon, he looks at you like a goddess even though you have demons on your shoulders. “Which one’s your favorite?” He whispered in your ear before pressing his lips to it.

You hummed as you leaned back, Harry’s hands on your hips still keeping you close. Your eyes scanned his body, your mind at battle.

You suddenly lift yourself up on your toes, holding on to his shoulders for leverage as you look at the tattoos that cross over, inching close to his back muscles.

“The little guitar doodle, thing.” You said before you unknowingly let out a little giggle, you finger lightly grazing the darkened skin.

“There’s that laugh.” He spoke softly, a small grin widening on his face. His emerald eyes shining in adoration. “I missed it.” His fingers curl the ends of your hair. Your hands move to his face, delicately holding his gorgeous face against yours.

“I love you. Thank you.” You said quietly, tears fogging your sight.

He shakes his head without hesitation, wet curls falling between you. “Nothing to thank me for.” He lifted his head to press a hard kiss on your nose, making a small giggle leave your lips. “There’s that beautiful sound again.” He roughly kissed under your eye, your giggles getting louder. He pecks the corner of your lips before migrating slightly to nip at your pink lips.

Your shoulders relax as you sigh into the kiss, your fingers lightly grazing the skin on Harry's shoulder, his around your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

The warm water cascades behind you, flowing through your hair and falling down to your feet.

He slowly pulls away, so slow that it seemed like he didn’t really want to pull away. Wet strands of his hair fall into his face, your fingers quickly leaving his shoulder to rake them back. “Wanna finish up and get to bed?” He asked quietly, his chipped fingernails faintly grazing the skin of your hip.

You nod, backing up as Harry moved closer to turn off the water behind you. The steamy glass door opens with a pop, Harry’s feet stepping onto the white floor mat to grab towels hanging on the wall. He quickly wraps one around his waist, droplets of water descending down his inked frame, some falling down from his hair onto his shoulder.

You slowly step out of the shower beside Harry, grabbing the towel from his hands and unfolding it to dry your hair and body before wrapping it around yourself.

“Do you want one of my shirts, love?” He asked as he walked out to the bathroom (still completely wet with a water trail behind him) to his dresser, looking through his casual wardrobe.

“If it’s okay with you.” You stayed in the bathroom, watching him move around the bedroom.

“Of course, lovie. That’s why I offered.” He comes in front of you to hand you some clothes, just a pair of his boxers and his old ‘Hot n Hard’ shirt. “Always want you in my clothes. He pecks your nose and pulls away, a small dimple piercing his cheek as he smirked. “Also like you with no clothes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed at his shoulder, shaking your head at him.

By the time you slid on the shirt he gave you, he was leaning against the doorframe, pink boxers hanging loosely under the fern tattoos. “Can I help with your skincare?” He asked shyly, his cheeks turning the same color as his boxers.

You don’t hesitate to nod, stepping farther into the bathroom to let him in.

He pats the counter, his other hand going to your back. “Sit for me, baby.”

You jumped onto the counter, silently watching him as he gathered your different products, you had too many to count (and didn’t need).

You sat quietly as you watched his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of his lips. His rough fingers gingerly patting stuff on your face, laughing at your whines when he was dragging down your face instead of smoothing up. “It’ll give me wrinkles!” You groaned.

So now he’ll do the same with his skin.

What? He doesn’t want wrinkles either.

•••

yay!!!

@chillingonlife @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @letsgoparty-ah-ah-ah-yeah @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack (i know some of you probably only meant the instagram things but i hope this is okay)

(lmk if you want to be added/taken off taglist)

[tenthgrove]

I'm new to this whole requesting thing so my apologies if this is all over the place but can you possibly do Yan! La squadra (separate) with a s/o who's just not concerned and just go's "I don't know who you are but as long as you let me sleep as long as I want we won't have problems, oh and now your obligated to cuddle me" and just falls asleep like they didn't just get kidnapped by a stranger

Strange Priorities, But Go On

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Yandere, SFW

Formaggio- Though he has the sense to be surprised at your... unconventional reaction to this situation, Formaggio thinks this is about as pleasant a surprise as one can get. Sleep's cool, and he's always down for cuddles, so he can hardly fault you there! Also in case you were wondering, Formaggio doesn't wake before noon anyway, so rest assured you won't be having any arguments with him in that department. Formaggio trusts your intentions immediately, and wants to make you happy however he can. He couldn't picture this having gone any better.

Illuso- His mind is being pulled in two different directions. On one hand, you're okay with him! And everything is wonderful and no doubt you'll love him in a matter of no time! On the other hand... this doesn't actually feel right. He always assumed you'd be fine with him but now you actually are he realises just how unlikely it sounds. He doesn't know how to solve this dilemma because if he gets it wrong he either comes off as an asshole or lets you escape. One thing he knows for certain is that he's going to buy a shit ton of high end duvets and pillows next time he gets the chance. That'll make for a good peace offering.

Prosciutto- Doesn't say anything, but he's completely perplexed. Is it the drugs he gave you? Do you not understand what's going on? Prosciutto prepared for every eventuality he could conceive of in how you might respond to your abduction, from how to assure you of his good intentions if you had a panic attack to how to restrain you without hurting you if you tried to fight. In none of them did he consider you might just lie down and calmly announce you were going to sleep now. He is weary to cuddle you, unsure of whether to trust your reaction is genuine, but after double checking you for weapons and (with consent) giving you some sleeping pills so you can't stay awake and attack him, he allows him.

Pesci- A massive weight off his shoulders! Pesci was so, so scared about how you may react to your abduction, knowing it was necessary but hating the thought of you being in any mental suffering all the same. When you instead quietly find your way to his bed to sleep, he's so relieved, he doesn't give it second thought. After a brief moment of shock Pesci crawls into the sheets beside you, promising to let you sleep whenever you want and thanking you profusely for being so understanding. He'll sleep next to you like you're make of glass, desperate not to wake you up so you have the wonderful sleep you deserve as his perfect, understanding darling.

Melone- From a behavioural standpoint, this is certainly a fascinating turn of events. Whether this is your genuine reaction to the situation you're in or a calculated scheme to lower his guard it certainly marks you out as unique, not that he didn't know you were already. Such reaction clearly deserves reward, and Melone will happily cuddle you to stimulate the early release of love hormones to kickstart your relationship. Yes, it's true you may be trying to deceive him, but he is confidant in his ability to deal with that should it occur. He thinks you deserve the benefit of trust, so he'll happily spoil you and indulge in your happiness together.

Ghiaccio- He's confused. Sure, hugs are great but he was fully expecting to spend the early weeks of your abduction keeping his distance for the sake of your sanity. Finding himself in this position this soon is odd for him, but he needs to prove he's listening to you! Ghiaccio cuddles you as you sleep, but there's a definite uncertainty in how he does it. Still, every moment that passes, Ghiaccio seems to grow calmer. He's wanted this, wanted you in his arms, so, so long.

Risotto- He is wary at first. Not because he doesn't trust you but because he's nervous he might have somehow pressured you into thinking this was an obligation. Yeah... he really did go into overdrive in regards to trying to seem less frightening to you. Once you've asked twice, he will gently cuddle you in bed, making sure you're facing the door so you don't feel trapped if you start to regret your forwardness. He assures you you're allowed to spend your time however you wish with him, and encourages you to always feel safe in his bed. Though he sees you don't really need to be told that.

Sorbet and Gelato- Well this is... unexpected. They were fully expecting an uphill struggle to get you calm around them, but Gelato is more than happy with this alternative. He's ready to cuddle you the second the words leave your lips. Sorbet on the other hand... he's looking at things a little more reasonably. Your assertions are just so unlikely he frankly can't believe they're true, and he's convinced you're trying something. He tells Gelato only to get close to you when he's there to watch, lest you try and get the jump on him while he's alone. Gelato admittedly doesn't keep to this rule.

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Reid x Reader

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” “So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

CONTENT WARNINGS: AGE GAP, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, STALKING, LANGUAGE probably the misuse of a Russian word  IF THERES MORE LMK 

A/N: Okay, let me be honest rq this idea lowk scared me but the words really just fell out of my brain really easily so, yk fuck it whatever.  ANYWAY, if you like, please let me know! 

pt 2, pt 3 “I love you Spencer.” The words immediately melted me. 

“I know so many things.” She gave me an unapproving look. 

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I do! Now for once in your life, listen to me.” She nodded her head in concession.

“I’ve just read more, I’ve written more, I’ve discovered and studied more than the average person. I could tell you a little bit about anything with one hundred percent certainty. I could--and want--to tell you the names of all the stars, I could recite verbatim the entirety of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus or Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, which you know, speaking of I will ‘cause I still can’t believe you haven’t read it,” Her smile flattened into a straight line, and I laughed. “Orrr, I could also tell you something simple, like why we get the hiccups.” I shook my head. 

“Regardless, I know so many things and I’m rarely taken by surprise because of it. Everything in life is a pattern of change, and as a human, we will always adjust and adapt to whatever situation we are in. For better or worse, we don’t feel the same thing for very long. This is why an addict takes a couple more every time, a sadist hits his second victim harder than the first, they’re searching for the high of the first time, and it will never come.”

She nodded in understanding, 

 “I know this is true, it’s factual, and yet every time I look at you it feels like the first. You’ve broken the laws of human psychology.” 

“First time you saw me was at a gas station Spencer.” 

“No. The first time I looked at you after I knew I loved you.” 

“Where were we?” 

“My car. You were dancing. You looked ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sexy? You mean?” She smiled. 

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” 

“So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin. 

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.” 

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled. 

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine. 

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine. 

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted. 

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.  

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss. 

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed. 

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.” 

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic. 

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.” 

“You are. So, so much smarter.” 

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest. 

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.” 

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?” 

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.” 

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other. 

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“Must you work?” I sent the message to Spencer as I rolled over to his side of the bed in anticipation. I breathed in heavy, liking the way the pillow smelled like his laundry.

“Unfortunately.”  he responded. “Think you’ll be home this weekend?” 

“It’s not looking like it, little one. I’m sorry.” 

I didn’t reply. I was too sad to reply. I knew it’d make him feel guilty, which I didn’t want to do, cause like, his job and saving people and shit is important. But, it still wasn’t fair! At all. There was something very important I had to tell him. 

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Total darkness, and then way too much light. My head hurt and I couldn’t move. I was handcuffed to a wooden chair. There were chains around my torso and ankles. The room was a medical sort of bright. It smelled like bleach and rotting fruit. The walls were dilapidated, seeming to be made of tiles that were once white, but have turned yellow. 

What the FUCK? 

“Hello!” I shouted. My voice was so coarse it hurt. Shit. My head pulsed so badly it practically hurt to think, but I still racked my brain. 

Where am I? 

How’d I get here? 

Why am I here? 

I woke up again. Fuck, why can’t I think? Why can’t I do anything? 

“Hey, y/n.” A woman’s voice. A very stoic, cold, sounding female voice.

I’m not alone. Thank god, oh my god, I’m not alone. 

With the little strength I had, I lifted my head to see her. She wasn’t what I thought. She was alright, she wasn’t tied. She did this to me? 

She took a sip from her silver flask, “Do you know who I am?” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“Typical.” She stood up and grabbed me by the hair, “You fucking disgust me.” Like, she said, she threw my hair away like it disgusted her. 

She sat back down on the bench in front of the chair I was chained to, “My name is Brook Austen. I was a professor at Georgetown last year. Taught a couple seminars at your school, that little university you go to, the students there were nothing like mine. Not nearly as intelligent, but as expected, Georgetown is much more prestigious, obviously.”

I was confused, and she knew, but did not care. 

“You’re not the brightest, y/n. Only slightly above average high school grades, strikingly mediocre academic performance now.”

Where the hell is she going with this? 

“And you know it doesn’t surprise me, per say, because every man on this goddamn planet is a piece of fucking shit! But I thought that, maybe, just maybe, Spencer was different.” 

She grimaced, “I thought he’d want more than just a pretty face! ‘Cause you might be prettier y/n, but I’m smarter.” Her words were laced with utter hatred. 

Her demeanor changed, and it almost started to seem like she was talking to herself. “I'm older. I’m more successful. I’m fucking better.” 

She approached me again, grabbing my face so I was looking her in those scarily light green eyes, and she wrapped her hands around my throat.  “I’m fucking better then you! Better, better, better!” Every time she said better she shook my neck and gripped tighter so I couldn’t breathe. 

“Stop! Please! Please stop!” I shouted, “I’m-I’m pregnant!” 

She began to break down, “You’re pregnant?” A maniacal chuckle left her throat, “You’re pregnant?”  

“Is it Spencer’s?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Wow.” She laughed once more, “Fucking wow.” 

“How could Spencer choose this!? You’re nothing like him. You are a pathetic fucking college student. A fucking daddy issue ridden slut! I’m a celebrated academic, just like him!” Tears began to slip from her eyes, “How could he not choose me?”

This woman is NOT well in the head. 

“You--you like Spencer?” I asked. 

“You don’t get to ask the fuckin’ questions here.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to the tip of my chin, “I do. So you’re gonna answer them.” Or, she started manically laughing, “I’ll kill you.” She swallowed, “And your baby.” 

I screamed at those words, “No,” I sobbed, “NO!” 

I turned my head away so I didn’t have to look at the woman in front of me, there was a timed red dot blinking. A camera. 

“Is that-- is that a camera?” 

She nodded, “I want Spencer to see you and his child die.” 

“He….No! No, please, No!” I choked on a sob and she smiled. 

“He doesn’t know.” She paced, “He doesn’t even fucking know!” 

She waltzed over to the camera and brought it closer to us, “Hey Spencer.” She began waving, “Hey Penelope. Aaron. Derek. Jennifer. Emily.” 

Her demeanor changed once more, into that of a cheerleader of all things, “So, quick recap.” Brook pursed her lips, “Spencer your twenty three year old fucktoy is pregnant. Congrats!” 

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Y/N was two things I didn’t know she was this morning: In serious danger, and the mother of my expected child. I felt frozen in trepidation. 

We all watched in horror as Brook greeted us. All by first name. She knew exactly what she was doing and it freaked me out even more. 

“Reid, you need to step out.” Hotch grabbed my shoulder, “Now.” 

I was sick with fear and ill with rage. I sat down because I could feel my knees go weak. Hotch started again, “We know who she is. We will find her. Y/N will be alright.” He paused, “So will the baby.” 

I replayed the events of the live footage in my head, her screams of pain and terror, her trembles and confusion. I’d failed her. I’d failed her and now I knew I’d also failed our child. 

JJ sat down next to me, “Spencer, when did you meet Brook?” 

“I uh,” I wiped my face, “A year and four months ago. I did uh, I taught uh, I taught a string of seminars at Georgetown. It was biweekly. Her office was next to mine. We spoke for the first time when she offered me a coffee.” 

“What did you say?” 

“What do you think I said?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, I said yeah, I fucking like coffee.” I felt instantaneously guilty for cursing, and especially at JJ but I was too frazzled for it to last long enough to apologize. 

“I know Spence, I’m sorry. Just keep going.” 

“Then, the next week, we got lunch together.” 

“Was it, you know, friendly?” 

“What are you implying Jennifer?” I snapped. 

“No Spence, we just need to know. You know that.” 

“It was-- it was just lunch. A very normal colleague to colleague lunch. We talked about the school’s history. And uh, where we grew up. It was small talk.” 

“Ok, was this the last time you spoke to her?” 

“No. There was one more time. Y/N was there.” 

“Tell me about it Spence.” She grabbed my hand, 

I breathed out, “It was the next week I taught after lunch. About two hours before my class. I was lesson planning, and Y/N was doing homework on my desk. She came in. She asked if I wanted to go get lunch. She saw y/n and--Fuck.” 

“What Spence? What?” 

“She asked me who she was, but it was like, she didn’t want y/n to know she was asking. She thought she was…”

“She thought she was what?” 

“A student.” 

“And what did you tell her?”  

“The truth. That she was my girlfriend.” 

“Did you see her anywhere else after that?”

“No. She never came by my office again. When I would see her by chance, she would scurry away. It was strange.” 

“Think really hard Spence. Did you ever see her again after you stopped teaching at Georgetown.”

I racked my brain, “Yeah. I did. It was two months ago. Three days after I proposed to y/n. She was getting a coffee at this coffee shop by y/n’s school.. I was bringing her some lunch” 

“Spencer she's been stalking you. Your proposal was the stressor.” 

“But--I’m a profiler. I would’ve noticed.” I stood up with a realization.            “What Spence?” JJ asked, standing up as well to look at me. 

“She’s been stalking her, not me. She knew I was a part of the BAU, she knew I would’ve noticed.” 

“I’ll tell the team.” 

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A/N2:  If this doesn’t totally flop, I’ll write PT 2, that elaborates on the reader’s and Spencer’s relationship. I think through flashbacks from both Y/N and Spencer would be a cool way to explore their relationship and of course the whole reader being kidnapped thing plot could develop. Again, if you enjoyed this pls let me know!!