#in the tags and not really detailed just. sigh.

[sundew199]

Times Two, Pt.2

a/n: yeah the brain rot on this got to me really bad. definitely recommend reading pt.1 if you haven't, this picks up right where it ended. I also just want to make a point that there is more Reijean in this sooo, yeah.

tags: reiner x f!reader x jean, threesome, establishing a potential relationship, oral m! and f! receiving, anal fingering and sex (m!receiving), Bisexual!Reiner, Bisexual!Jean, messy sex, reijean, fluff at the end.

minors dni!!

word count: 7,977

There was no way to tell what time of day it was when you woke up, clouds blocking the sun from shining through the windows. Groggily you tried to gain your bearings, blinking rapidly and feeling around the bed. It all slowly started to come back to you, the night before and the promise of a discussion of how to move forward. The ache between your legs was a dead giveaway of how thoroughly you’d been fucked, groaning when stood after sliding off the bed. A chill ran down your spin, hugging your arms around you and appreciating the overly large sweatshirt you wore. 

Neither Jean or Reiner were in bed when you woke up, needing to find them and some food. Trailing out of the bedroom into the kitchen, fresh coffee hit your nostrils and helped wake you up further. Your feet shuffled on the vinyl wood floors, walking extremely slow to keep the aching pain from worsening. 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Jean quipped from the barstool he sat in, a shit eating grin on his face as he glanced up from his phone, slouched and shirtless making you wonder how he wasn’t freezing his ass off. All you did was groan back as a response, ignoring him and still making a beeline for the coffee. You bumped into Reiner, who also greeted you and you gave him the same response. 

Now that you had poured your coffee and taken a few tentative sips, you sat in the barstool next to Jean. The sizzle of eggs turned louder from where Reiner stood in front of the stove, the need for food turning impossible to ignore, hoping those weren’t just for him. 

“Hungry?” He asked, turning around with the pan of scrambled eggs held out in front of him. 

“Yea.” Simply responding, taking another sip of your coffee. Reiner graciously plated some for you and Jean and also himself, setting the plates down in front of you and leaning back into the counter to eat his breakfast. It was quiet as everyone ate, giving you time to wake up a bit more and hit them with what you briefly discussed the night before. If they were serious about having some kind of agreement, you wanted to work out the details. At the moment, you didn’t want to take things too far into a possible relationship, still wanting some of your freedoms. 

“So how is this going to work? Do you two have rules? Things you don’t want the other to do or?” Blurting out with a small clap of your hands, perkiness returning slowly in your demeanor. 

“Jesus christ it's 8:30 am.” Jean mutters through the bite of eggs he took, chewing the forkful and swallowing, motioning to Reiner to take it from here. 

“Okay well first, we want to make sure you want to be apart-” 

“Yes.” 

Reiner sighed at your interruption, brushing it off and tossing the now empty plate in the trash, reaching for his own cup of coffee, “There aren’t “rules” per-se for what we have going on, just mutual respect and understanding. So obviously we let the other know if we were hooking up with someone else, and if it ever happened, to let one another know if we were trying to pursue a relationship with someone.” 

Nodding along and stringing together some questions of your own, you pondered the benefits of this little agreement. It was clear Jean and Reiner liked you beyond as a friend per their confession last night, but you also didn’t want to get their hopes up in being in a relationship with you. Plus you’d never been in a polyamorous relationship and wasn’t even sure if you’d like that sort of thing. That was at least another upside to joining in on whatever they had going on, give you a small taste. 

“Okay that’s understandable. I know you said you both have a crush on me and I’m flattered but I don’t want to give you the impression by coming into this agreement or situationship that you guys are in an actual relationship with me, I’m not ready for something like that.” 

Both of them turned to look at each other, shrugging nonchalantly. “That’s fine, like I said last night, we're not dating or exclusive.” Jean responded. 

Seeing it didn’t affect much on their stance, you felt more at ease in going into this. There was only the lingering fear of one of them getting jealous and the entire friendship going down the drain, but you weren’t going to let that fear guide what you wanted. 

“Okay then I guess consider me part of your agreement.” Saying with a shrug, not sure what else was left to be said. The only other thing on your mind now was studying, seeing how you were so rudely pulled away from it last night. Your last two finals were on Tuesday of this upcoming week and already felt like you lost so much time, not that you didn’t enjoy your time spent with Reiner and Jean, you were just stressed. 

“I’m going to study.” Announcing as you got down from the barstool, taking your coffee and heading to your room. Both guys gave you nonverbal responses as you shuffled down the hall to your room, smiling to yourself at them being them. 

For Hours you stared at your laptop screen, taking practice quizzes for different units and rereading sections of your notes for what felt like the thousandth time. Reiner always said you never gave yourself enough credit for how smart you are and probably didn’t need to study as much as you did. But you weren’t taking any chances, so much riding on your finals score and not needing anything to set you back. You could tell you were burning out of your focus when you started to think about how things would be with Reiner and Jean, wondering how they went about it before they told you and what they’d be comfortable with. Would they care if you randomly kissed their cheek or in general? I mean sure that’s what couples did but you’ve kissed plenty of guys and couldn’t even tell you all their names. Did they care if one day you wanted to just fuck one of them and not the other? Did it have to be both of them? 

Questions, questions, questions you should’ve asked this morning but deciding against it when you felt it wasn’t important, clearly proving yourself wrong. Putting on some decent clothes, realizing you were still just in the sweatshirt and panties from this morning, you took a moment to freshen up as well. Hopefully they were both still home and you could get some quick answers. 

Entering the living room to Jean lying across the couch scrolling on his phone with one of his legs slung over the back of the couch, Reiner sitting on the other end, feet of the coffee table and watching the football game on T.V. Both of them looked up when you came around the couch to sit between them, Reiner muting the T.V and Jean laying his phone down. 

“I forgot to ask earlier but are you guys okay with affection? Like around here, not in public or anything.” Hating how nervous you sounded, partially regretting asking them in the first place when you realized it kinda sounded dumb. 

“I don’t mind,” Jean answered first, looking at Reiner who had the same response as well. Giving a nod and picking at your nails, you inhaled deeply. 

“So when we want to…fuck, does it have to be all three of us everytime?” 

They both got quieter than you wanted them to, talking to each other through looks while thinking it over individually themselves. Obviously they hadn’t been faced with that before, given it was just them two before so you were hoping this wouldn’t cause an issue. 

“I guess not, if it does happen maybe put a sock on the door? Or mentioned it after the fact. Jean?” Reiner said, looking to the other man to see if he thought the same or felt uncomfortable with it. 

“I don’t see the issue, unless it starts to come between us. And if it does, we’ll cross that road when it happens.” Nudging your thigh with his leg that was bent at the knee on the couch, giving a little reassurance seeing the nervousness written across your face. “I don’t see it happening, so don’t let it get in your head alright?” 

“Okay.” Muttering out with a small smile, rising from the couch to grab a snack before going back to studying now that your burning questions have been answered. You knew deep down there wouldn’t be anything to worry about, seemingly excited to get to have you at the same time last night. 

Chills ran up your spine at the memories, biting your bottom lip to keep the breathy moan in as you felt the phantom hands cascading over your body. God fucking dammit you needed finals to be over so you could have all the fun you wanted with the agreement. Just a couple more days.

~~~~

Praise the universe!! You were finally done with the semester, exiting out of your last class with childlike joy. All that studying and endless all-nighters paid off, making fucking above nineties on both of your tests. It was so much more satisfying getting that high of a grade when you were only shooting for passing. A celebration was in order and you had the perfect idea on what you wanted to do. 

After a quick drive to the shared condo, you burst through the front door victoriously, shouting you passed those god damn tests and was free to start enjoying winter break like everyone else. Reiner and Jean took all their finals a week before you did, and they weren’t going to say it, but they were waiting for you to be done so all three of you could whatever the fuck you wanted. God you were so happy, finally free of the stress of academics for a short while. 

“So what do you want to do? Get wasted?” Jean asked, moving out from behind the kitchen counter, popping the last cracker into his mouth from his palm. 

“No, better. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in Reiner’s bedroom, or yours doesn’t matter!” Shouting as you ran down the hall, giving them no time to respond or question just what exactly you had in mind. After that night you asked them to hold off on anything sexual, just until finals were over. They didn’t have a problem with it and only bothered you when they felt like being annoying. Even though it’d only been a couple of days, you were glad nothing had changed in the dynamic the three of you shared, it being something you cherished more than they probably knew. 

Digging through your dresser for that lingerie you bought after the guy you’d been crushing on asked you out to dinner, which ended up being a complete waste, not even finishing dinner before you realized he was just unbearable to be around. That was the last time you ever spent money too please a guy, seeing no point as most of your hook-ups were one time things. But now, oh you were itching to flaunt your body in this risque lingerie for Reiner and Jean, accepting the fact it may be torn off of you. 

A black lace full body lingerie hugged your curves in the way you wanted it too, accentuating your breasts and leaving little to the imagination. You felt good in this, confident and sure of what you wanted. To keep it a surprise, you grabbed one of your sweatshirts that was big enough to come down to your mid-thigh, you giggled jogging down the hallway, passed the living room to the other hallway where Jean and Reiner’s rooms were. Reiner’s door was closed and Jean’s was slightly open, deciding to try there first. 

They were laid back on the bed, scrolling through their phones, not suspecting a thing for what you had planned. Jean looked up first as you entered, closing the door and dimming the lights in his room, a feature so perfect for a plan like yours. Reiner’s attention was gained when you climbed onto the bed between them, forcing a spot for you between their bulking bodies. 

“So…? What are we doing, taking a nap before we go to the bar?” Jean inquired, a hint of annoyance in his tone at the lack of clarification for what both of them were doing here. 

“No, maybe later but not right now.” Sitting up and crossing your legs. “I haven’t gotten a chance to learn what you like.” Pausing further for dramatic effect, running a finger up Reiner’s thigh and placing the other high on Jean’s inner thigh. “What you like in bed that is.” 

Jean’s leg twitches under your hand, internally laughing at the effect you already had on both of them. Reiner sat up, gripping your wrist and letting a smile curl into his lips, moving to be in front of you rather than beside you. 

He started by kissing the outer shell of your ear, releasing a breath that unexpectedly had you bending to his effect. Jean caught on, running a hand along your outer thigh and teasing you by venturing to your inner thigh, a lot closer than you had been when you did it to him. 

“Then find out, we’d be more than happy to tell you but I doubt that would be any fun.” Running his scruffy cheek against yours, Reiner slides his hand to the back of your neck and places a wet kiss to your jawline. Dammit they were quick, already wanting to just lie back and let them have your way with you again, but you wanted to tease now so there was no room to falter. 

Scooting away from both of their lingering touches, standing on your knees, you lift the hem of your sweatshirt, slowly revealing the lace that decorated your body, tossing it to the floor and sitting back on your hunches. They both gaped, stared shamelessly at the sultry movements of your hands running up your torso to cup your tits. 

“I’m going to rip that thing off of you.” Jean rasped, palming the forming tent in his shorts and letting out a sigh. 

“Would you buy me a new one?” Circling your nipples with your index fingers through the lace, the heat sinks into your stomach at a fast pace, already beginning to grow wet between your legs. 

“Yeah, might not last long, but I will.” Confidently responding, now rubbing the tent to ease the ache in his dick, Jean looked to Reiner with another one of their looks. Crawling towards them, you wordlessly instruct them to take off their shirts and sweatshirts, sighing at your new favorite sight of their toned bare chests. 

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Reiner’s head suddenly, wagging a finger for you to ‘c’mere’ and whisper something in your ear. He suggested both of you turn your attention to Jean, implying you both tease and play with him, promising at some point you and him could do the same back. The idea was so sweet to pass up on, agreeing with a silent nod as to not give away anything to Jean. He looked skeptical when you faced him again, trying to figure out what just happened. 

Swinging your legs over his body, grasping the sides of his face, you met him in a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around your mid section, urging you to sit down on his lap all the way and alleviate his erection. Obliging, you moaned into his mouth as your barely clothed cunt grinded down on his dick through his athletic shorts. Reiner was off grabbing what he needed, briefly stepping out of the room into his, returning almost silently if it weren’t for the closing of the bedroom door behind him. He set something down on the nightstand on the side you and Jean were making out, glancing to see a bottle of lube. Jean was too busy devouring your mouth and pawing at your ass to notice, impatiently pulling and snapping the lace against your body. 

Hands from behind pulled you off, sitting firm on Jean’s lap and giving one slow grind with your hips as you strained to meet Reiner holding your face to him for a kiss. Though intense and hungry, his lips moved softly with yours, moving one hand to slip the thin strap of your lingerie off your shoulder until your tit fell free. His large rough hand cupped and massaged it, pulling whiny moans from your lips as he now bit and sucked the side of your neck. Jean looked like he was in a trance, watching Reiner manhandle you, but in an oddly gentle way. He was throbbing inside his shorts, the grinding of your hips not offering everything he craved. 

Your head fell back when Reiner rolled and pinched your nipple between his fingers, chuckling into your neck and giving you one last kiss before releasing his hold on you. Jean sat up, keeping one arm around your waist and latching onto your nipple, furiously flicking and swirling his tongue. 

“Jean-” Breathing out, running a hand through his hair and grinding down harder with your hips. He bit the nipple as a response, smiling when you yelped. 

Reiner moved all the pillows from the bed as Jean busied himself with your chest, trying not to let his throbbing dick take over his actions just yet, wanting to ensure there was optimal room on the bed. Jean finally pulled away, gasping a breath and pulling the rest of your lingerie down to your waist moving you off his lap to take the rest of it off. Reiner seized this as his opportunity to smash Jean into a kiss, catching him so off guard you had to take the rest of your lingerie off yourself. 

“What do you want? My dick down your throat while she sucks you off, or your face buried in that pussy while I’m down between your legs?” Reiner asked between the heated kisses, hearing Jean groan wantonly grasping the back of the blonde's hair. The question and the scene set your body aflame, watching Reiner effortlessly take control and Jean submitting to it like it was the only thing keeping him going. 

“I want’re to ride my face, need to taste her.” Answering finally between gasps of breath, tugging on Reiner’s hair to pull him away from the kiss, watching Reiner smile with a pleased groan. His attention turns to you, sitting back on your elbows just observing just how fucking hot that was. 

“Come sit on my face doll.” Gleaming at you with a smirk and grabbing one of the pillows tossed to the floor to elevate his head a bit. Without looking too excited, you shuffled over to Jean, swinging your legs over each side of his head, looking down at him. The poor man looked gone already, eyes glazed over in lust with a content expression. His hands came to settle in the junction of your hips, beginning to pull you down with the hunger to taste you, quench his sudden thirst and desire to suffocate in your folds. Behind you, Reiner was watching as he popped the lid to the lube open, transfixed on your slow descent and muttering curses once he saw Jean’s mouth make contact between your legs. 

Jean delightfully hummed into your folds the second he could crane his head up to meet you, still urging you to sit all the way down on his face. Your breath carried a whine, soft and salacious as you felt a tongue flatten to swiped back and forth. All thoughts of concern for cutting off Jean's airway went out the window when his lips closed around your clit, sucking tentatively and keeping those hazy eyes on yours, making it next to impossible to not crumble under his wanting look. He looked so enthralled with how your head was tilted back just a bit, the silent moans leaving your tongue and the contortion of pleasure twisted in your face, having you sit on his face was for his pleasure just as much as it was yours. Hands roamed from your hips to below your ribs, caressing your soft skin, back down to your ass cheeks as he passionately made out with your pussy. Who would’ve thought sitting on a man’s face could be so intimate? 

Reiner had to forcefully break away from watching before he came untouched and to begin working Jean open, per his response. With the cap to the lube finally open and ready for when he would need it, Reiner leaned over the foot of the bed, moving a long muscular leg over his shoulder and peppering soft kisses and quick nips to the flesh. He smirked when Jean’s shaky groan muffled into your pussy reached his ears, seeing you tense on top of him at the undoubtable vibrations. Before you were added into the equation, Reiner and Jean took turns deciding who would do who in the beginning but it slowly turned into Jean taking Reiner’s dick, more often than not, letting the blonde toss him around how he liked. Reiner enjoyed it, but he savored the times when Jean would wordlessly slam him into the wall or bend him over the bed and fuck him until he was out of his mind. 

Swiping a flat tongue over the man’s heavy balls, Reiner groaned seeing his flushed and angry cock twitch against his abs, catching the way his hands dug into the flesh of your ass, urging you to ride his face. You were a mess, panting and twisting your hand into the ashy hair, grinding faster onto Jean’s tongue and watching his eyes roll back into his head. A thick finger circled the puckering hole between Jean’s legs as Reiner kissed up his dick flicking his tongue teasingly over the leaking slit. 

“Fuck.” Jean gasped below you, mouth and chin shining with your arousal as he lifted you off his face. His bottom lip quivered when a now slick finger began pushing into his hole, the same teasing tongue swirling around the head of his cock. 

“Turn around for me.” Rasping hoarsely, pleading almost with the request. You complied with a small nod, turning around till your ass was in his face and you were faced with the sight of Reiner affectionately lavishing Jean’s cock. He smiled when he saw the switch in positions, tested his luck by pushing his finger past the first knuckle into Jean, smiling wider at the debauched moan he let out. You knew Reiner was a tease but oh my god it was like borderline torture the way he calculated his movements and teased the man squeezing and pulling your ass cheeks apart. You could tell Jean needed the distraction of your pussy on his mouth with the immediate dive back into your folds, slipping his tongue into your entrance and inhaling deeply. It was expected of you to fall forward for the suddenness, grasping onto Jean’s thighs and whining with need. Reiner’s pumping single finger picked up a rhythm comfortable for Jean to ease his grip on your ass, assuming he relaxed further when Reiner knitted his brows together and moved a little faster. 

“God you’re tight, ease up babe.” Reiner called out to Jean, giving you another devious smug look and leaning his head over to suck just the head of his cock. You were drowning in the furious movements of Jean’s tongue that you could barely make out what Reiner was doing in front of you. Reiner moaned, releasing his cock and dropping a glob of spit, using his free hand to spread it down his shaft. Now you were at attention, pushing yourself up and kitten licking the continuously leaking slit as Reiner pumped up and down. 

“There ya go, suck his dick for me baby.” Reiner encouraged kissing down the side of the shaft, you focusing on sucking and swirling your tongue around the tip. 

Jean could barely handle it, taking a breather and whining at the unexpected amount of attention he was receiving. You didn’t mind, you’d have his cock shoved inside you here soon enough to not be demanding, following Reiner’s lead and teasing the absolute fuck out of Jean. The man in front of you pushed down one of Jean’s legs to the mattress, easing a second slicked coated finger into the complicit hole, sighing at acceptance and how it sucked him in further. 

As you made a mess on Jean’s cock and watched Reiner open him up at the same time, Jean was whining and muttering incoherently, completely abandoning your pussy and focusing on trying not to cum. Fingers pumped rapidly in and out of him, Reiner returning to sucking and kissing up and down the appendage with you. Your tongues met unexpectedly when you both reached the tip, Reiner occupying you in a kiss centimeters over Jean’s dick, sloppily making out and smearing saliva and precum on each other’s mouths.  

“I’m going to cum if you two don’t stop making out on my dick, for fucks sake.” Jean growled, a little frustrated and losing the will to stave off his orgasm. 

“You gonna ride’em?” Reiner asked, ignoring Jean and slipping in a third finger as an extra precaution to make sure he didn’t hurt the man when sinking into him. 

“Mhm, wanna know if it's as good as he says it is.” Smirking and shuttering to Reiner’s deep chuckle, following him as he stood up from kneeling between Jean’s legs, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his cock, waiting for you to turn back around to sink down on Jean. 

Once you were facing him again, you cupped a hand around his jaw and tipped his head back, guiding him inside of you. Reiner waited until you were fully seated to pull his fingers out and test the waters with his thick cockhead, Jean was prepped enough but he wasn’t a brute to just shove himself all the way in. The moment he pushed the tip of his dick past the tight ring of muscle, he hissed and dug crescents into Jean’s outer thighs. You were adjusting around the length of Jean, not as thick as Reiner but thick and long enough to need a moment until you started moving. 

“Feel so good Jean.” Whispering into his lips and lazily kissing the side of his mouth as he tried to keep what composure he had left from the thick cock pushing its way inside of him. With ease, your hips rose up and down on his cock, dragging your walls along the faint ridges and veins. You were relaxed enough to keep Jean from losing his mind, holding the side of his face and gently kissing his lips while riding him, it seemed to work until Reiner pushed himself all the way in, hearing that throaty whine that made you clench around the man below you. 

“Shit.” He cursed, inhaling sharply through his nose and bringing his hips back to where he almost pulled out all the way and slamming them back in. 

“Fuck Reiner-” Jean mumbled between your lips, gripping you tightly around the waist and speeding up your languid bouncing hips to move faster. You moaned, licking into Jean’s mouth and releasing his face to sit upright to rock your hips in time with Reiner’s behind you. His large hands slipped under your arms pulling you back into his chest, cupping your tits and resting his chin over your shoulder, both of you now looking down at Jean. He was ruined, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes and shaking with each breath, getting fucked simultaneously. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Reiner asked, breath kissing the outer shell of your ear, raising the hair on your neck. You pressed your knees to Jean’s hips, pushed your hips forward so the dick inside you could be seen bulging in your lower stomach. You nodded as a response to Reiner, tipping your head back so he could see your face and the doe eyed look you were giving him, taking one of his hands from your breast and guiding it down to where the bulge in your stomach was. He hissed, craned his head further over your shoulder to stare at it, giving Jean a good sharp thrust to gain his attention. 

“Look how deep you are baby,” Calling out to Jean, seeing his hands move away from his eyes and watching as a new wave of lust washed over him. He sat up on his elbows, brushing over where Reiner’s hand was and moaning softly. You squirmed on his dick, mewling to try and get stimulation while the two of them admired the bulging dick, wondering what it was that made it so hot for the two of them. 

With renewed vigor, Jean gripped one of your hips and moved you up and down on his cock, concentration screwed into his guise feeling Reiner resume his pace as well. You whined, meeting Jean’s movements and continuously fucking yourself on him. Reiner pushed you forward so he wouldn’t be smacking his chest into your back too much as he fucked Jean, holding the long legs apart and watching his dick disappear with each thrust, enamoured with how greedy Jean’s hole was. Your hands tangled into the long ashy locks, moaning directly into Jean’s ear as he did the same. You were both gone, energy close to depleting altogether but knowing Reiner was nowhere close to being finished with his ungodly stamina. 

“You feel so fucking good, wanna cum deep inside you princess.” He groaned, smacking your ass cheek sharply, kneading those lith fingers into the flesh and biting the lobe of your ear. You nodded furiously to that, clenching around him and slamming onto him harder and deeper. 

Reiner’s thrust faltered suddenly, violently gripping Jean’s thigh and throwing his head back, sputtering out a groan. Jean hissed, a pathetic whimper leaving his lips as one of his legs hooked around Reiner’s waist. You were so lost in how deep Jean’s dick was fucking into you that you couldn’t tell Reiner had just finished, quicker than you were expecting and possibly on purpose.  

Meeting the lips below you in a sloppy kiss, your body turned limp, unable to keep up with your desire to cum and to make Jean cum as well. Reiner must’ve caught on, hoisting you away from Jean’s chest and back into his own, one arm wrapped around your chest as his other hand ventured down to play with your clit. Now that Jean had more freedom to move as he pleased, he gripped your hips to hold you steady, fully fucking up into you, determined to watch his cum leak out of your pussy and down his cock. 

Barely able to hold on, you silently whined, resting your head on Reiner’s shoulder as he swirled your neglected clit with his finger, laughing devilishly and kissing the side of your neck. Jean grunted below, catching the smug curl of his lips and the look exchanged with Reiner. 

“Cum for us baby, wanna see you milk this pretty cock inside you.” Jean growled, smugness leaving his face suddenly as he drew closer and closer to his long awaited release. Reiner sucks in a large breath, keeping you pressed to him and increasing the speed of his fingers. You were so close, their combined efforts once again ruining your ability to do it yourself or for anyone else to. 

With a clench and a flutter of your walls, you came with a pitiful moan, somehow falling even more limp into Reiner’s hands, wincing at the final sharp thrust from Jean. Warmth filled quickly inside of you, ropes of cum painting your walls so much it indeed started to leak out and down the spent cock still inside you. Both of them sighed, releasing their hold and giving you a second to regain some energy before helping you off. Reiner was the only one not as fucked out as you and Jean, leaving the aftermath of a good fuck all to him. 

He lifted you off Jean, kissing your cheek and gently laying you back onto the bed next to the other. Jean’s chest was heaving, shining in sweat giving him an ethereal glow in the lowlights of his room. He brought his arm to wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You curled into him, ignoring the sweat sticking to your body and his and basking in the post-coital bliss between the two of you. Reiner could be heard in the bathroom, cleaning himself off and coming back to do the same for you and Jean.

Despite liking the idea of going out and celebrating for passing your last final, all three of you were sprawled across Jean’s bed, half naked and sound asleep. Thankfully Reiner had managed to clean you and Jean off before plopping down himself, making it less gross when you finally woke up. Of course it was dark, probably closer to eight or nine from what you could recall the time being when you waltz in here in your scandalous lingerie. Looking over to spot either Jean or Reiner, you smiled seeing them pressed together, chest to chest with their arms tangled between their bodies. A swelling of affection in your chest occurred seeing how comfortable they looked and abandoning all thoughts of leaving the room to squeeze between them. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Jean mumbled in his sleep, pinching his brows but making room for you nonetheless. Reiner huffed, groaning disapprovingly as you “carefully” pushed their bodies apart to make yourself a spot. They both huffed, still asleep when you finally settled between them, giggling to yourself and pulling the comforter over everyone. There was a time, when all of you were much younger and puberty hadn’t ruined your perception of them, did the three of you sleep altogether like this, pressed together so tight it was a wonder any of you could breath. Experiencing this again under different circumstances did you feel warm and fuzzy, safe between both of their arms.

~~~

All you heard was distorted mumbling when you woke again, voices hushed but loud enough to know a conversation was taking place between you. Everything in your body ached, creaked with one slight movement, similar to how you had been the first time. Vision blurry and refusing to focus, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, jolting to the warm palm on the center of your back. 

“Oh good you’re up.” Jean began, removing his hand from your back and reaching for his phone on the bedside table. “There’s this sushi place that opened up about ten minutes from here and I think we should go try it later.” 

“Isn’t it like three or four in the morning? And why would I want sushi for breakfast?” Groaning as you reached for the comforter to pull to your chest, very much still naked and cold. 

“More like nine in the morning, and we could go for dinner and celebrate finishing the semester.” 

The words were taking their time to process in your groggy brain, not realizing you’d slept till the next day. When they did process, you clutched the comforter tight to your chest and whirled around to look at Jean. 

“Jesus it's the next day?!” Exclaiming and hearing Reiner laughed on the other side of you, along with Jean. 

“Yeah? I mean we’ve only been up for an hour so you didn’t miss much.” 

Not that there was a lot you had to do or anything you missed, but you hated being so tired and out of the loop that time was distorted, it messed with your internal schedule to be productive and get things done around the place. Nothing much could be done now but it was still slightly irritating that it had happened. 

“We can go for lunch, I had plans to meet with Pieck and maybe Annie later.” Climbing over Jean and rolling your eyes at the slap to your bare ass and something like a growl from him. Fucking annoying ass. “But I’m going to take a shower first.” 

“Oh yeah, you need it, after the mess we made.” Reiner snickered, looking at Jean, who of course was laughing right along with the blonde. They were bad enough before when all three of you were strictly friends, and it didn’t come as a surprise to see them finding new ways to make your eyes roll back into your head. 

Snatching a zip-up jacket from the hook on the wall in Jean’s room, you left them alone to go get cleaned up and ready to go out. Now that they were no longer annoying you were able to appreciate the gesture from them. It was kind of odd how things were exactly the same between all three of you but completely different at the same time, making you rethink your choice in not pursuing a form of romantic relationship outside of sex with them. Both of them dated a few girls here and there, nothing serious but you got to see how they treated someone they dated and in a way yearned for it. You, in all honesty, wanted to be on the receiving end of the romantic affection, and it didn’t worry you or set doubts inside you about wanting one or the other, because you wanted both. But something about the idea of dating both of them at the same time made you nervous and reluctant still. What would your friends say? People around school? Three people dating each other all at once, wasn’t common and you hated the possible judgment from others got to you. 

Taking a quick shower and dressing accordingly for the chilly weather, you met Jean and Reiner out in the living room by the front door. Reiner offered to drive, piling into his truck and snatching the aux cord before Jean could from the back seat. 

“Please play something other than your girly pop playlist.” He groaned from the passenger seat. 

“I like her playlist, and added a few songs to my own to listen to when I work out.” Reiner defended you with honor, making you giggle while scrolling through your phone to find a song you knew would annoy the protester the most. 

“Of course you would, you zesty ass fucker.” 

Reiner abruptly slammed on the brakes, sending Jean lurching forward to the dash, only stopped by the seatbelt across his body. 

“I’m not the only ‘zesty ass fucker’ here, last i checked you were moaning my name and squirming on the bed last night.” 

Jean scoffed, scowled at Reiner who resumed peacefully driving to the destination with a smug smile on his face. You were laughing quietly at the two of them from the back seat, choosing to keep your laughs to yourself, lest you face the annoyed wrath of Jean Kirschtein. Surprisingly, Jean didn’t have any sort of rebuttal to send back to the blonde, but the tips of his ears were red and you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was pouting. 

Arriving at the sushi place, you walked in between the two of them, annoyingly dwarfed by their height and size. You weren’t “tiny”, like some girls around campus love to say for some reason, but you definitely weren’t above six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds. Jean opened the door for you, Reiner following in behind and approaching the lady at the host stand. Said sushi place had a conveyor belt that rotated various sushi’s and you paid based on how many plates you ate. No wonder the two of them suggested this place, knowing they would be able to eat the entire restaurant if they wanted too, racking up the final bill. 

Seated in a booth across from both of them, wondering why they wanted to squeeze into together when it would’ve been easier for one of them to sit with you. Oh whatever, they’ve always been weird like that. Another restaurant worker stopped by the table to explain how the conveyor belt works and how to grab the plates of sushi, also mentioned there were separate items that weren’t sushi that you could order as well. 

Reiner orders a miso soup and Jean orders pot sticker dumplings, the worker writing it down and telling both of them to watch the belt above where the sushi was for their order as it would come down there. 

“This is actually a lot cooler than I was expecting.” Jean spoke once the worker left, beginning to eye some of the sushi rotating at a moderate speed around the restaurant on the belt. The restaurant was cool and unique, better than a ‘normal’ sushi restaurant. 

“Oh look, you can win a prize for eating twenty plates.” Reiner pointed out with a new look of determination of a presented goal. 

“Oh my god.” Muttering under your breath watching the two of them plot and scheme just how many plates they were going to do no matter that the requirement for a prize was. If this was their plan, they were definitely paying the undoubtable hefty tab, but you wouldn’t spoil that for them, seeing as they didn’t see the price of each plate. 

Once their two appetizers arrived on the conveyor belt above the sushi one, Jean started grabbing plates left and right, sliding them to you and Reiner. There were so many on the table now, giving you a wide variety of options to try. You started moving the ones you were eating to keep them from grabbing off of yours, they were animals when it came to food, some things never changing no matter how much time had passed. 

“Oh FUCK! That’s hot, oh my fucking god.” Jean exclaimed, snatching the complimentary water and chugging it. 

“No way you ate that much wasabi on that piece of sushi, dumbass.” Reiner laughed, nudging his shoulder and rolling his eyes in your direction. 

“I swear he never learns.” Snickering through a bite of sushi and watching the man sitting across from you gasping for air and snarling at Reiner openly laughing. Those two were always pushing each other’s buttons when they weren’t pushing yours, wondering how the testosterone didn’t knock out a passerby. Years ago, Conny, one of Jean’s closest friends after you and Reiner convinced him to eat a teaspoon of wasabi, easily convinced the brunette it was a mint paste and wouldn’t taste bad. Jean nearly killed Conny that night while everyone was over at his house, having a burnt and numb tongue for a week senior year of high school. 

“My tolerance has grown, but they put more than I thought.” Banging a fist on his chest, coughing in between each word. Both you and Reiner shared a look letting out a long sarcastic “ahh” and nodding your heads. Jean clicked his tongue and told you both to fuck off. 

The counter on the screen where you sat at the booth was at thirty five plates now, the two guys across from you slowing down, leaving you, who wasn’t quite full to eat the last remaining five. When you slid the last plate into the little slot, they annoyingly clapped for you, making a small scene and flooding you with mild embarrassment. Reiner reached over Jean to press on the touch screen to get the two prizes since forty plates were eaten, which was kind of ridiculous the more you thought about it. They each took one of the two prizes and handed them to you. 

“Awe for meeee? How sweeeet” Raising your pitch to sound like a child and elongating your words, rapidly fluttering your lashes. They both turned red, glancing at each other and smiling. Seeing them nod wordlessly sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies, which was such an unfamiliar feeling when it came to them. You still weren’t sure how you felt about dating the both of them if that’s what they wanted, but something inside you was screaming at you to give it a try, despite your inner reluctance reasoning. Reiner and Jean were your best friends and more than that now, but a romantic relationship sounded daunting with them even though you wanted in deep, deep down. It’d be better to take things slow, for the sake of your friendship and sanity. 

The prizes were little rubber squish animals, little desk buddies you liked to call them, tucking them back in the plastic ball they came in and stuffing them into your jacket pocket.

“So what are you doing with Pieck later?” Reiner asked, looking up from texting on his phone. 

“Just hanging out, Annie said she also wanted to hang out with me since finals were over, so we’ll all probably be at Pieck’s place.” 

Jean hummed and Reiner nodded, slouched in their seats and waiting for the check. You briefly smiled thinking about what their reactions might be, dramatic forsure. A restaurant worker handed Reiner the check and you swore his eyes almost popped out of their sockets, slowly bringing it closer to Jean so he could have a look as well. His jaw dropped and a hand clamped over his mouth. 

“How much is it?” Asking with your wallet out to pay a portion of the bill as you did eat as well, maybe not as much, but you weren’t expecting them to pay the entirety. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner grunted, digging his wallet out of his back jeans pocket, letting out a long breath and placing his card down. Jean grumbled and muttered under his breath as he passed Reiner his card as well. 

Just as you were about to place yours down as well, Jean swatted your hand away. You scoffed, trying again, only for Reiner to take it and hold onto it instead of putting it down. A worker came by to grab the cards asking how they would like to split it, Reiner telling him down the middle. 

“I could’ve paid.” Crossing your arms over your chest and acting like Jean, pouting with knitted brows. 

“Yea but this is on us, for passing your finals.” 

Your eyes rolled at the response Jean gave you, somehow still finding a way to look out for you even when you insisted against it. Not that you didn’t appreciate the gesture, but it had to have been expensive and you hated it being all on them. When they received their cards, they each signed and tipped, getting the hell out of there afraid that just being in here any long would drain their bank accounts. Back in the truck, Jean beat you to the aux, playing something that wasn’t normally what he would play just to annoy you. You couldn’t be mad, even if you wanted to, doing the same thing to him on the way here. 

Back home, stuffed from all the sushi, you plopped down on the couch, not having to leave for Pieck’s until after she got off of work, which was a couple hours from now. Expectedly, they joined you on the couch, sandwiching you in on either side, Jean slouching in the couch and then eventually laying his head on your lap with a blanket thrown over. Reiner draped his arm across your shoulders and pulled you closer just a tad to not disturb Jean who had drifted off to sleep. You were suddenly so tired, listening to Jean’s soft snores and steady breathing of Reiner, your heart racing at the fact you felt so at home like this? As if the three of you hadn’t fallen asleep on each other on a couch before, but you swore you felt something you didn’t want to name for the sake of taking things slow. Maybe, if everything played in your favor you could be confident to say this new feeling, but who knows where this will go.

[dykethang]

i think mothers day simply should not exist. why are we forcing literally everyone to be celebrating people just for giving us life. what if i want to avoid the notion but i can't because it's everywhere

[spider-man-2o99]

individual stills of miguel Scampering on all fours and showing off his more distinct individual movement style (that he has because of his spider-man's Similar-but-still-distinctly-Weird-and-unique powers as compared to the more-graceful Others) so that i don't have 2 keep rewinding the clip(s) to see it. im REALLY excited to see him scuttling and skittering all over the place in the film just like he does in the comics-- and, like, seriously, Miguel Specifically being just. made Massive for some reason in his atsv design will never NOT be funny to me hes SO freakin Bouncy why did they Do That.

don't be Weird on my post or i'll kill you for real

[simstoyourdismay]

gave the kitty a little refresh

[aauroralightss]

i love trigun stampede as an adaptation and i always do my best to engage with it as its own piece of art vs. as a reflection of trigun maximum (bc imo that's setting it up for failure!!!) But it always baffles me when people try to act like stuff like vash or wolfwood's new designs aren't explicit changes to their characterisation haha

[jacksmusesdrv3]

Do you have a link for the 'ouma isn't dead' theory? I want to reread it but can't find it. I absolutely love that theory but I always have a hard time remembering all the hints/evidence towards it.

Alas I don't have a very specific post of it (not anymore, or maybe it’s privated somewhere, or deleted, I can’t find it)- what I have is scattered pieces of evidence and general ideas of the theory everywhere and the kitchen sink

So to get a basic outline for mine at least, it’s basically:

Kaito plays a role in Ouma’s plan for the whole chapter- he helps co-ordinate a bunch of stuff that Ouma needs, and also keeps the group off his tail when they try to ask after him earlier on. To this end, he trusts Ouma enough to arrange and enact the Fake Crushing Plan(tm) and even help engineer his own kidnapping plot, among other things. Notice how cryptically he talks about the plan’s success to Shuichi, and obscures his relationship to Ouma when prompted by Kiibo to explain.

Kaito lies about the two items being crushed. Not only was the last Electrobomb way too useful to waste as a resistance item, the omni controller could not have been destroyed without freeing Monokuma from the trap designed to keep him away from the hangar in the first place (at least, such a thing would be pointlessly risky to do during this plot...)

Kiibo felt ill in the hangar due to the air- the reason had to do with something interfering with his systems, but in the JP text he was sure it wasn’t the Electrobomb causing that. A reason for that could be that he was sensing something in the air, however we never find out what it was that he sensed, just that leaving the hangar made him feel better (note: he is still within the Electrobomb’s range). The point being: perhaps a substance was used giving off a scent that he did not recognise and/or polluted the air, and that substance was coming from the hydraulic press.

Ouma used the Electrobomb in order to knock out the signal, to create the illusion that ‘the audience stopped engaging’. At least, the only established way to explain a sudden, timed blackout is an Electrobomb being used. All of this is so he can go underground - figuritively and literally - in order to mess up Monokuma’s master plan, that we don’t actually learn what it was in its entirety (due to missing bits of evidence- the nature of the ‘audience’ is a topic in itself, aha)

The long and short (without getting into all specific details of how they pulled it off- there’s... a lot to cover there): keeping Kaito as a possible ‘accessory-to-conspiracy’ in mind, and also a Danganronpa V3 script book that shows up in Chapter 5(?), the events of the plot may have gone down somewhat differently to what was said (Kaito’s a very good actor, so he’s capable of pulling it off, too)

I hope this helps! It’s an exciting thought, if hard to put down on paper entirely. I have a feeling some others may have gone through more particular details?

[lexicog]

anatomy study that i think turned out pretty good :)

[fragmentedblade]

I was reading yesterday about xiangqi and there was a mention about how the general is rather useless and even affects negatively your game at first, but ends up having a key role in setting up winning strategies towards the final stages, and it reminded me so much of Jing Yuan's role in the Xianzhou arc

[milimeters-morales]

okay i might have to start reading comics

[adelheidvonschicksal]

The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩

Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.

“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.

There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.

“I wanted to finish this report for work.”

“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”

Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”

“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”

“Ruined?”

“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”

Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”

His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.

“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[halohalona]

🎀 A Little Redecorating

Logan wakes up to you rearranging the living room in the middle of the night

Logan Howlett x Reader

this is inspired by my impulsiveness (i don't know if that's the right word) to clean and rearrange my room at 11 at night until like 12:30 in the morning.

not beta read

masterlist

warnings/tags: fluff, reader possibly having adhd and making impulsive decisions, husband!logan, a little ooc logan, kinda domestic, probably a bit incoherent towards the end cause i decided to finish writing this at 2 in the morning

To be completely honest, you have no idea why you suddenly got the urge to rearrange and reorganize the living room. You were laying in bed when the idea popped up in your head, and couldn’t sleep since. So you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake up your husband, and got to work.

You were moving the TV stand when your hip accidentally hit the edge of a side table causing the vase placed on top to fall.

CRASH

Logan immediately sat up the claws on his left hand unsheathing. Instincts kicking in, he looked over to your side of the bed to see if you were ok, only to see no one.

“Shit!” he heard someone speak before hearing a loud thud. In an instant he was out the door running straight to where the voice came from.

You were sweeping the remnants of the broken vase onto a dust pan when you heard Logan frantically shout your name. “Y/N!!”

“I’m okay!! I just knocked over a vase!”

When Logan finally reached you his body visibly relaxed. “Thank fuck, you’re okay. I thought you were getting taken.”

“I’m sorry.” you say sheepishly.

He looked around, the room was in disarray. The couch was no longer in its original place, instead it was blocking the path to the stairwell where Logan came from. The TV stand no longer against the wall he was facing but instead in the middle of the room. The TV itself was laying on one end of the couch while books and knickknacks were scattered on the other end. The rug was also rolled up and put against the wall.

“Love, why are you rearranging our furniture?” he asked, confused.

“I honestly don’t know. I suddenly got the idea while in bed and I couldn’t wait until morning.” you answered looking around, the corners of your lips turning down. “And now I can’t exactly go to bed while the living room looks like this…”

Placing his hands on his hips, he took another look around. “Well then, let’s get to work. Let’s finish this before sunrise,” he sighed before hopping over the couch. “You got an idea how you want the furniture placed? "A smile makes its way to your face before nodding excitedly.

It took you only an hour to get everything in place thanks to Logan doing most of the heavy lifting. After placing the last book on the shelf you let out a loud yawn starting to feel exhausted.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed” your husband said, carrying you up to your room.

Bonus:

That morning you sat at the dining table hard at work on something on your laptop.

Logan had to do a double take making sure he was seeing things correctly. "Is that our living room?”

“Yep”

“Did you seriously build our living room in—”

“The Sims? Yep. I actually built our house in the Sims.” you zoomed the camera out to show the entire first floor of the build before shrugging. “It makes redecorating easier.”

a/n: the bonus was really just an excuse to add the small detail that the reader uses the sims as reference for decorating the house lol

word count: 511

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[heavndoll]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

pairings — catholic!fem reader and eddie munson

summary — you're a good catholic girl. always have been — even though you're dating eddie munson, who's the complete opposite of that. he's crude and vulgar, and his influence may just taint you entirely.

warnings tags — adult language. mentions of religion, talks of god. eddie hates god, but has a god kink. major blasphemy. reader has daddy issues. mentions of jason craver (ew i know). graphic details of smut: loss of virginity (virgin!reader) + corruption. oral (eddie receiving). f!ngering. slight degrading but more praise. wrong usage of a rosary.

Eddie Munson was merely the Devil in your parents eyes.

To you, he was the seventh heaven.

Crossing paths with him was not a mistake, but a blessing. Eddie took care of you, and loved you. He really loved you.

You met him through a friend who went to Hawkins with him, and you couldn’t perceive him as a bad boy, whatsoever. He was genuine and kind the second you and him met, asking questions about you that no other guy ever had done.

But you knew he was not the guy you could bring home to your parents. Your parents were aware of him, since your father was a Sheriff for the Hawkins department, and always got reports of him.

You couldn’t tell them about your infatuation for Eddie, and how your heart burned for him, belonged to him. You were more faithful to Eddie Munson than you were to your Catholicism, and for you to say that to your parents, would earn you a kick to church camp.

You couldn’t say that their sweet little girl was in love with Hawkins’ freak; that he had told her many ways he wanted to deprive her of innocence and purity; that he dreamed of her worshiping him under her cross.

And you dreamed of that, every Sunday, for the past many month.

You sat in between your father and mother as the Priest read from the bible, and you fiddled with the ending hem of your white, babydoll dress. You stared mindfully at the cross, your head drawing the image of Eddie taking your virginity, rupturing your virtue, right underneath it.

You did feel a bit of guilt when you thought such lewd things, and you did blame Eddie for it. You felt even worse thinking of them in church, where you were supposed to be devoting your love and soul to the Lord, not a wild man.

“Hebrews 13:4 says, ‘Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for fornicators and adulterers God will judge’”, the Priest spoke confidently, eyes glancing up to everyone for a second.

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping tightly on your dress.

What the fuck, Jesus, you thought to yourself. I’m a fucking eighteen year old, of course I want to fornicate!

“Sweet dear,” your mother whispered, and you looked at her. “You look unwell. Are you okay?”

“Do you mind if I take a moment outside?” You wondered, brows drawing upwards. “It feels stuffy. Just for a minute, please.”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Very well, then. Be quiet, dear.”

You thanked her, standing up, and quickly — but quietly — dismissed yourself out of the building, pushing open the wooden doors. The second you were outside, you groaned, the doors swinging close behind you.

“I’m damned for Hell,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple in frustration.

“So am I,” you heard a voice come from the side of you. You spin your head, finding Eddie there, smoking a cigarette. “For smoking of the Lord’s sacred grounds.”

“Eddie,” you sighed in relief, walking up to him, and he brought you into his embrace. He kissed the side of your head, before pulling back. “What are you doing here? If my parents — or anyone — sees you, they will make a fret out of it!”

Eddie chuckled. “Is that so?”

“I’m serious, Eds,” you frowned, throwing a small, playful slap to his shoulder. “We don’t need a scene.”

“Ah, I know, angel,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for assurance. “I just needed to see you. Was wondering what you are doing tonight?”

“I have homework, and finish my project on the Betrayal of Judas tonight,” you explained, annoyed at the mere thought of it. “It’s going to take all night. Why do you ask?”

“I wanted you to come by my trailer tonight,” Eddie said, and you smiled, but upset you had to decline his suggestion. “But it’s okay. I’m going to pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”

“If Sister Josie sees you, she will report you to my parents,” you warned, and he only barked a laugh, throwing his head back. “I do not want to be sent to a camp because I was caught with you, Eds.”

“If your parents did that, I’d kidnap you,” Eddie stated, and you rolled your eyes, shooting a look at the church’s doors, eyes retreating back into his shortly after. “Go on in, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can do something fun.”

You raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Anything you wanted,” Eddie promised, giving your chin a soft pinch. “Be good for me, yeah?”

You hummed, and nodded. “Bye, Eds,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he watched you walk all the way back into the church.

You hurried back to your row, perching yourself back in between your parents.

“Feel better?” Your mother asked.

You inhaled sharply. “Much better.”

Your fork poked at the vegetables that sat on your dinner plate, your eyes boring into it. It was always quiet on Sunday dinners, and you never said anything, unless your parents did.

Your mother poured herself another glass of red wine, and your father glanced at you, then his wife. “Got another report today about that Munson boy,” your father cracked the perfect quiet, and was visibly angered. “He’s been seen graffiting near Lovers Lake.”

“And who is reporting that?” Your mother questioned, sipping her beverage.

“Probably that ass kisser, Jason,” you mumbled, and your father slammed his hands down on the table.

“LANGUAGE!” Your father bellowed, and you dropped your fork onto your plate, slouching back into your chair. “Jason is a good boy. A good son of the Lord, and that’s the kind of guy you need in your life.”

“Jason literally tried to kiss me at the eighth grade school dance,” you recalled, scoffing. “Without my consent, may I add!”

“Well you two were children then,” your mother said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s a lovely boy. His friends are lovely too!”

You purse your lips. “His friends are dumb fucks.”

Okay, so maybe Eddie really did have a bad influence on you. Because you would never — for the love of God — curse in front of your parents, until now.

“What’s with the mouth?” Your father asked, and you glared at him. “You ought to pray tonight to the Lord tonight.”

“I’m just growing up, daddy,” you mocked, standing up from the dinner table, and threw your napkin on top of your plate. You stormed out of the dining room, straight into your bedroom, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

You dropped your body onto your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow. You wanted to scream and kick every object in your room, but refused not to do such a thing.

You were fine with laying on your bed, and smothering yourself with a pillow, until you heard gentle knocks at your window. You jolted up, your head craning toward the sound, and peeked at the window.

And you found Eddie, standing right outside your window.

You cursed under your breath, and stalked over to your window, snapping it open. Eddie smiled at the sight of you, though he could tell you were mystified by his unnoticed appearance.

“Do you want to kidnap me that badly?” You wondered, and he chuckled breathily, shrugging. “You can’t be here right now. My dad and I got into this fight.”

“About me, I suppose?” Eddie asked, allowing himself to jump into and through your bedroom window, and you didn’t stop him. “I know how your daddy likes to talk about me.”

“He said I should be with Jason, or someone like him,” you said, and he closed your bedroom window. “Because he is a son of the Lord.”

“Or the fucking Devil,” Eddie joked, and you snickered, but agreed. “I wonder what your dad would think if he knew you were with me, hm?”

“He would take his shotgun to you,” you admitted, and Eddie took a look around your bedroom. “Anyway, you can stay for a bit, but my father demands I pray for cursing.”

“Their little girl suddenly has a mouth of dirt?” Eddie teased, and you slapped his arm, which he laughed at. “Have I finally corrupted their innocent daughter?”

“Shut it, Munson,” you snapped, and he leaned against your desk, his eyes casting down at your Bible that sat on top of it.

“How about you pray right now? I won’t say a thing,” Eddie suggested, and you raised a brow, tilting your head. “You need to get it over with, anyway. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“You want to watch me pray?” You asked.

“It’d be nice, ya’know?” Eddie grinned, and he could tell you were completely gullible to what he was getting at. “Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”

You considered it, and simply agreed, walking up next to him. You grabbed your bible, and opened it up as you made your way over to your bed, kneeling at the end of it. Your knees brushed against your carpet-like flooring, looking up at your cross.

“Wait, Eds,” you paused, and he was already giving you your pink rosary. You thanked him, wrapping it around your fingers, and held it tightly in your hand.

Your cross hung right above your bed, right in the middle of your room, and your attention diverted from him, to the Bible.

Eddie simply watched and witnessed you speak and pray, and he felt sick for getting aroused to this pure sight of you, pleading for forgiveness from a man who supposedly ruled the Earth. He wanted to touch you, for his hands to memorize and caress every curve of your body.

His eyes unpeeled that baby pink tank top you wore, then went to your white, soft sweatpants. He wondered how it’d be like for you to plead and worship him in front of the Lord as he made you call him your God.

Maybe that was an awful, crude dream to play in his head, but he wanted to have your devotion turn to him, not the Lord.

The Lord couldn’t love and care for you the way he did.

Eddie went over to your bedroom door, and locked it, seeing how focused you were on the pages of pure fiction.

He kneeled behind you, and wrapped an arm around your torso, your body shuddering. He brought you closer to him, planting an innocent kiss on your shoulder.

“Eddie, I’m praying,” you pouted, setting your Bible down for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t disrupt.”

“Just keep going, love,” he mumbled, his tip of his nose brushing against your skin. “Keep praying.”

You rolled your eyes and did so, continuing to recite every word from the pages.

Eddie’s lips made their way to the nape of your neck, getting the sweet scent of your perfume. “What a good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath sending a symphony of shivers along your body. “Doing anything to stay pure and good.”

You nearly faltered, your concentration weakening. His hand trailed to your stomach, resting on your abdomen.

Eddie had touched you before, but not fully — not under your clothes. He even afforded to show you how to touch yourself, but Sister Tina from your school said you’d be banished to Hell for such a thing; so that set enough fear in.

Now, you craved for him to touch him. You didn’t know why in this particular moment — out of every heated, lusting moment — you wanted to feel him, to take you apart, and taint every part of your body, and brain.

You began to stutter as you spoke, Eddie’s hand crawling under your sweatpants, grazing over your clothed area. “Do you think the Lord wants me to touch you?” He taunted, and you hummed, your hands grasping harshly onto both sides of the Bible. “What do you think?”

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out. “Eddie.”

“I want him to watch me take his devoted angel,” Eddie continued, his fingers creeping into your underwear, and your body flinched the second his fingers pressed against your bud. “Show him that he is no protector.”

You nodded, and Eddie grinned, resting his chin onto your shoulder.

You wanted Eddie. You needed Eddie.

“Keep reading, or I’ll stop,” Eddie warned, and you couldn’t hold onto a single thought as his middle finger curled into your unripe cunt. You moaned, squeezing your eyelids shut to the feeling of it. It was a single fucking finger in you, and you felt like pure bliss.

Eddie continued to pump the individual finger in you, slowly and surely as you tried to read more.

Everything was going smoothly, until a knock hit against your bedroom door.

Your father barked your name, you and Eddie freezing up. “Honey, why is your door locked?” Your father asked, shaking the doorknob. “Are you okay?”

Eddie smirked, his ring finger joining his middle, both pumping into a picked up pace.

“I–I’m praying!” You announced, trying to hold back your noises. “I wanted to pray in privacy, talk to the Lord!”

“Oh,” your father spoke from the other side of the door. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. I just wanted to say, you know I’m just looking out for you, right?”

Eddie’s fingers struck an unknown, but euphoric, spot in you, and you choked down a loud moan. “Yeah, daddy! I know that,” you responded, throwing your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, and the Bible collapsed to the side of you.

Eddie chuckled quietly, using his free hand to wrap onto your throat. “What a filthy girl,” he whispered into your ear, grasping onto your neck.

“There’s bad guys out there, like Eddie Munson,” your father said, and Eddie wanted to bark a laugh. “If you were to be with a boy like that, I’d lose it. Boys only want one thing, and you know that.”

Another noise was lodged in your throat, Eddie having to squeeze your throat as a warning.

“I know, I know! Now, can I continue praying, please?” You asked, and Eddie’s finger shoved into you faster, and harder.

“Yes, of course! Your mother and I are heading to the Martins for a bit,” he acknowledged, and you had to slam your own hand over your mouth. “We should be back no later than 11. Be good!”

You kept your hand over your mouth until you heard the front door slam shut, and the second they did, you freed all your noises. Your chest heaved, your body becoming pudding against Eddie’s.

A hot sensation hit your stomach, and you found pleasure in it. It was an unfamiliar, enjoyable feeling. Your thighs trembled, and Eddie took a quick note to it, noticing how you were barely adjusting to this. “Are you going to cum?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with confusion.

“Cum?” You repeated.

“Does it feel like your stomach is on fire?” Eddie asked, his fingers making themselves deeper into your core, and you nodded. “That means you’re at your climax, love. That you are going to cum. It’s very normal.”

You still had a lot to learn, and Eddie was glad enough to teach you it all.

“Just let it go, sweetheart. Let it be free,” he cooed, and you hummed, your body convulsing the second your climax poured out of you, nearly dropping to the floor. He kept you up and close to him, and you panted, swallowing thickly.

Eddie��s fingers disappeared out of you, removing his hand completely from you. He placed his two fingers in his mouth, getting the sweet taste of you, and nearly moaned. “You taste fucking divine.”

You blushed, and eyed your Bible, picking it up. “I think I got enough forgiveness,” you joked, and Eddie hummed, helping you stand up with him. “I just…”

“Hm?” Eddie wondered, taking the Bible from you, and rested it on your desk. “What is it, sweet girl?”

“I want,” your voice quavered, your head hanging low in embarrassment. “I want more.”

Eddie placed his finger under your chin, bringing your head up to look him directly in the eye. “You want more? You have to be more specific, love,” Eddie mused, and you whimpered. “Use your words, please.”

“I want you to touch me more,” you only knew how to say it like that. Just paraphrase it in that way. “I want you to fuck me?”

“Is that a question or statement?” Eddie jested, and you whined more, embarrassed. “I’m kidding, sweet girl. I know what you mean, but are you sure?”

You nodded, smiling in confidence.

Eddie tugged you closer to his body, his lips smothering yours, and his hands laid on your hips, squeezing them gently. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close to you, your body aching for him.

He led you over to your bed, sitting down onto it as you straddled his lap. Your hands cupped his cheeks, your rosary brushing against his skin, and you could feel him smile on your lips.

His lips fell off of yours, and he stripped off his upper half clothing, dropping them to your floor. Your eyes widened to the view of his body, his abs perfectly toned, and your finger drew around the tattoos he had on the left side of his chest.

“I like this tattoo,” you giggled at the Demon and spider tattoos, and he smiled, kissing the side of your head. “But I will always like your puppetmaster tattoo a lot more.”

“Gotta get you a tattoo one day,” Eddie said, and you shook your head. “Get you a pretty tattoo, just like mine, yeah?”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, and he hummed, his fingers hooking under your shirt. You let him take it off of you, undoing your bra by yourself. You hesitantly shimmed off your bra, the straps sliding down your arms, and onto your lap.

You put it on the ground with the other clothes, and you didn’t stare at Eddie as his eyes gawked at your breasts. You were insecure and worried – he was the first guy to ever see your bare body.

Panic slowly rolled in. “Is it okay? Am I okay?”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed, looking up at you, and then at your breasts. “You are so beautiful. This body, all mine to touch and mark.”

Your worries washed away, Eddie planting loving kisses on your breasts.

“Your body is fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, captivated and enthralled by your gracious beauty. “All fucking mine.” He carefully laid you on your back, on the bed, and hovered over you, his lips falling back onto yours. His body rutted against yours, hands at the waistband of your sweatpants,

“Take them off, Eds,” you breathed into the kiss, and his taste was gone for a moment as he listened, stripping off your sweatpants. You were left in your white cotton panties, and he took a second to unbuckle his belt, and then his pants, both landing on the ground.

You and Eddie were only left in your underwear, and you could feel a hard bulge brush against your inner thigh.

Oh, you thought to yourself. That.

“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him with assuring, doe eyes, and he kissed your forehead. He reached over to his pants, grabbing his wallet from it, and pulled out a small wrapper from it.

You shivered, and your eyes bored into Eddie as he took off his boxers, and you tensed the second you glimpsed at his cock.

You were about to pray to God again, due to the overwhelmingly huge size of Eddie.

Eddie opened up the wrapper, taking out the condom, and slipped it on. You took off your panties and kicked them off, throwing your rosary too, seeing how they joined all other clothing items on the floor.

“It’s going to hurt at first; if you want me to stop, just say so,” Eddie said, and one of his hands held onto yours for comfort as his other was used to guide him into you. You could feel the head of him at your cunt, and you squeezed his hand whilst his cock made its way into you, slowly and bit by bit.

Your back arched, gasping aloud to the feeling of him fulfilling you. Eddie’s hand grasped onto your jaw, holding onto it, forcing you to hold eye contact with him. “Just take me, love,” he mused, and you whimpered in response.

You were being easily stretched and torn apart by his cock, your virtue draining out of you with every brush of him coming in and out of you. You continued to hold onto his hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand for assurance you were safe.

Eddie kept a steady, delicate pace, taking a clear eye to how you were already in shambles. He was simply dispossessing you of your longing purity, your body and devotion belonging to him now.

This was Seventh Heaven to you — this was all of the joy and exhilaration you longed for.

Your cunt adjusted to his size, and your hand let go of him, setting both of them onto his shoulders. “More, Eddie. Please,” you pleaded, and he began to drill himself deeper into you, his hands pressing onto your stomach for support.

You squealed, his eyes on the way his cock thrusted into you. Your body elevated upwards, and your glossy eyes caught a glance of the cross above your bed.

If this corruption was so cruel, so vile, why did it feel so fucking amazing?

Flares of euphoria spurred throughout your body as wanton, lewd noises elicited out of your mouth, and filled your bedroom. Embers of pure, raw desire were in Eddie’s eyes the second they fell back into yours, his breath shuddering his rib cages.

A firestorm grew in your stomach, and your nails dug into Eddie’s shoulder, earning a harsh moan out of him. “‘M gonna cum,” you told him, your chest falling up and down rapidly. “I need to cum, Eds.”

“What a sensitive whore you are,” he taunted, and you groaned, the fire spreading into your thighs. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for your God.”

Your lids sealed shut as your climax peaked and rushed out of you, your body moving with a hard jolt to it. Eddie nearly laughed mockingly at you, your delicate, unripe body, now sweating and shaking from sinful sex.

You barely had collected the fact Eddie referred to him as your God, but you didn’t hate it.

You liked it.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth,” Eddie said, and helped you sit up as he took off the condom. “I always told you I’d find a way for you to worship me. Get on your knees, angel.”

Eddie tossed his condom into your trash bin, turning his attention back onto you.

You obeyed, and stumbled to your bedroom floor, collapsing down onto your knees. Eddie seized your rosary, and took the opportunity to tie up your wrists with the symbolized jewelry. You whined, tugging at your hostaged wrists.

“Open your mouth for me,” Eddie said, standing in front of you. Your mouth popped open, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth, creeping them to the back of your throat. You gagged the second his fingers hit your throat, your eyes watering.

You stared up at him with pure and pious eyes, that were almost daunting, too.

“How are you going to be able to take my cock, when you can barely take my fingers, angel?” He asked, and a tear trickled down your cheek. He was amused by this single tear. “You worship me?”

You nodded as his fingers left your mouth, his knuckles brushing along your cheek. “Yes, I worship you. Only you,” you assured, giving the edge of his palm a delicate, small kiss. “You’re my religion.”

He chuckled. “Such a good little thing you are.”

Eddie’s fingers curled into your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. His hips pushed forward, his cock stuffing your opened mouth.

You remembered your friend told you about blowjobs — that you make sure your teeth don’t touch, or it makes it unpleasant. Your friend wasn’t as faithful or pure as you were, only going to Catechism to please her parents.

Eddie’s cock continuously hit the back of your throat, drawing inchorenet gargles from you as tears lined at the brim of your eyes. Your throat was brutalized, yet you soaked into the pain of it, taking pleasure in every second of it.

Your eyes rolled back the deeper his cock went, his teeth gritting together, and moaned your name like a mantra.

Eddie’s head fell back, his hips snapping into your face, and you gurgled, trying your best to breathe out of your nostrils. “Shit, shit, I’m close,” he told you, and that was the only warning you were given, nothing else. “Keep your mouth steady and open for your God, baby.”

His climax flooded into your mouth, your tongue getting a salty taste of his high, and he pushed his cock out of your mouth. He tried to catch his breath, sweat beading at his forehead and body, his fingers unhooking from your hair.

“Let me see, doll,” Eddie said, and you happily showed him the way his cum sat on your tongue. “Mhm, that’s a good girl. Swallow it.”

You closed your mouth, taking it all down at once, and he kissed the top of your head. He unknotted the rosary, and your wrists were glad to be free.

Eddie sat the jewelry on your bed stand, and helped you up, sitting you down on your bed afterwards. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He panicked, and you shook your head, a few strands of your hair matted to your teary, sweating cheeks.

“Did I do okay?” You asked, and he frowned, cupping your cheeks, caressing them lovingly with his thumbs.

“You were wonderful, sweet girl. So good,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and dressed. You still have that project.”

You groaned, barely remembering it. “Oh fuck!”

[junislqve]

ᯓ million dollar — ot7

syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)

pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi

notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately

LEE HEESEUNG

“take as much time as you want, love”

earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.

your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.

heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.

“do you need a new dress, love?”

after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.

and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.

heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.

walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.

“spend it all on anything you want, baby”

PARK JONGSEONG

as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.

jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.

you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.

it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.

“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”

you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.

you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.

when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.

“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”

SIM JAEYUN

“but you look so good in these, babe”

opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.

the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.

you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.

“i seriously need to go on a ban”

“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.

“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.

“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.

that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.

“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.

“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”

PARK SUNGHOON

as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.

and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.

you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.

when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.

even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.

on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.

“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.

it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.

sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.

but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.

he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.

so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.

with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.

“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”

YANG JUNGWON

he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.

it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.

anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.

his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.

both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.

“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.

“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”

NISHIMURA RIKI

as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.

he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.

you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.

the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.

“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.

“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.

silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.

“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.

he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[larcenywrites]

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Warnings: 18+ | no pronouns or assignments used for reader | unprotected sex | sex in a church | kinda public sex? | an established relationship of some kind ;) | sad | but happy ending! sort of | lots of plot with some porn | comfort/fluff | a little foreplay, a little aftercare | light bondage? sorry I really love his tail

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you. 

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself. 

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly. 

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon. 

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest. 

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead. 

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church. 

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor. 

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven. 

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire. 

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say. 

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments. 

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word. 

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof. 

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding. 

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.  

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled. 

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin." 

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough. 

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you. 

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight. 

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in. 

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going. 

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs. 

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another. 

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember. 

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude. 

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs. 

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist. 

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines. 

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin. 

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure. 

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot. 

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you. 

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh. 

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead. 

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant. 

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear."