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not-neverland06 · 9 months ago

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I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you.

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help.

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott.

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look.

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together.

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it.

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way.

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you.

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely.

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself.

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain.

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off.

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse.

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells.

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often.

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.”

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him.

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong.

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple.

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back.

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different.

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience.

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do.

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself.

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything.

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home.

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you.

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry.

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy.

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag.

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do.

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet.

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do.

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him.

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you.

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?”

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong.

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief.

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care.

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful.

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is.

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped.

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing.

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone.

It feels so wrong.

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you.

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face.

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low.

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation.

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism.

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch.

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself.

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself.

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you.

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other.

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new.

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great.

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable.

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting.

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily.

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you.

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging.

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut.

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you.

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair.

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets.

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other.

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore.

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone.

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on.

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy.

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

#wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine #wolverine fic #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman

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everestshopping · 2 years ago

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keeline21345 · 2 months ago

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aultenblogs · 3 months ago

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bloodiedpetals · 2 years ago

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🥀

#mobile.#i’ve been working a Lot bc rip my fridge #im finally stabilizing a little but i’ve just been sO DRAINED #but trust whenever i tear myself away from bg3 i’ll gay up the place again

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donelywell · 11 months ago

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June 27 2024

Me and a friend got an aggie together to draw Sonic characters with a bit more extreme height/ body proportion differences- but it very quickly turned into us drawing sibling fluff.

If you're curious what the changes are:

Sonic is taller and lankier, built for running and being aerodynamic.

Tails is shorter and pudgy, his fox height will kick in when he gets older.

Knuckles is the tallest and is built like a fridge, but mostly in his forearms. (but not Sonic Boom's weird pizza body with spindly legs)

Amy is shorter, but her hammer is MASSIVE. Little innocent tween that looks like she's a damsel in destress but actually is your hero.

(Shadow isn't here because I didn't doodle him in the aggie) but he's a bit shorter, however he is taller than Amy. He's more built for physical combat, having him be bulkier than Sonic (and physically stronger). I like to think that he's a bit more condensed to help stabilize and control the chaos energy inside him.

(and Silver is skin and bone)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the werehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #sonic fanart #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday

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ssahotchnerr · 2 months ago

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ooh! i have an ellieverse request... aaron watching ellie take her first steps and then feeling guilty that he couldnt be there for jack plsss

milestones

cw; fem!reader, dad!aaron, food descriptions, fluff and some angst - happy ending but it's also kinda not? aaron loves to self deprecate :( wc; 1.1k

"Pb and J, or turkey for your lunch?"

"Turkey."

"Turkey it is," Aaron grabbed the deli meat from its designated compartment in the fridge. "You like swiss cheese," he thought aloud, grabbing that next. "How 'bout some mayo on it, too?"

Jack's nose scrunched in disapproval over his cereal. "Kids at school don't eat that, Dad."

"Okay I'm sorry," Aaron chuckled, shutting the fridge and tossing the two selections on the counter. He highly doubted that, but who knew what the trends in third grade were. "My bad, no mayo."

It was starting out to be a typical Hotchner morning; getting up, getting the kids up, flowing through the normal routine before the busyness of the day began. That is, until your voice called out from the other room.

"Aaron! She's walking!"

Aaron was already on the move at your initial frantic tone, but picked up as the realization of what you said hit. Ellie's been mobile for a while; crawling, standing, maybe moving an inch before plopping right back down to crawl, but walking wasn’t something she’d shown too much interest in yet. Jack followed right in his footsteps.

Upon entry into the living room, you were seated in the middle of the carpet - Ellie a few feet away, holding onto the couch and oblivious to what she had done as you clutched onto your phone, eyes wide with the camera recording.

"She what?"

"She's walking," Happy tears shone in your eyes, scrambling over to Ellie and setting her up again, "Look. Go see Dada, honey."

You didn't need to tell her twice; she never needed an excuse to see her father, her face lighting up. She stabilized herself before her little feet carried her over. One foot slowly by the other, she reached Aaron, who was equally in awe.

"Ellie!" Aaron grinned, lifting her a foot up into the air in celebration. "What a big girl you are."

"Can I try next?" Jack sat beside you, holding out his arms. Aaron steadied Ellie upright and she began wobbling over to him, babbling softly as she approached her brother.

Aaron met your gaze; you were beside yourself. Absolutely giddy with the biggest smile on your face. It made one of his own form.

"Alright bud, it's time to finish getting ready for school." You said to Jack once Ellie finished her laps, now making it about halfway across before dropping onto the carpet. "You don't want to be late."

"Do I need to?" Jack whined, "I don't want to miss her walking."

Your gaze shot to Aaron as the words innocently left Jack's mouth, registering what was said the same time he did. As slight as it was - all Aaron would allow - he sobered, a sullen demeanor taking over.

"Well, that was an exciting morning." You opened the conversation; Jack had just been picked up by his ride, and Aaron was getting ready to head off to work as well.

"Mhm." He was bouncing Ellie in his arms while he waited for his coffee to brew. She made a grab at his nose. "We really need to baby proof the house now."

He was thrilled, absolutely he was, but he felt bad, an internal battle going on in his head. Today had been a huge day for Ellie, a milestone. He didn't want his guilt to overshadow that - it wasn't fair to her.

But that's how he felt.

"You're not a bad Dad." You stated what you knew was mulling in his brain, and a pain rippled through your heart at the fact he thought such. He was Jack's hero, Ellie was a daddy's girl through and through, but he jumped at the opportunity to believe otherwise.

Aaron gave you a look, strapping Ellie into her highchair. "I saw Jack's first steps through my phone screen."

"That's okay," you sympathized, dropping a handful of Cheerios onto Ellie's tray. "And it's okay to feel bad. But you didn't have control over that; there was no way of knowing he'd start walking then so you shouldn't put yourself at fault."

"I don't want Jack to feel neglected. I'm kinda getting a do-over with Ellie in terms of the mistakes I made, so what's he going to think?" He countered, sitting down at the chair set beside Ellie's.

"He's not going to think anything. Jack? Neglected?" A soft laugh escaped you - it wasn't a laughing matter, but he was so incredibly far off you couldn't help it. "He idolizes you, Aaron."

Aaron shrugged, doubtful.

"You coach his soccer team. You take him to the Smithsonian every chance you get. Or how about all the nights the two of you stay up late reading, or building Legos? That's what he'll remember, not who was there for his first steps. And think about all the other milestones he's experienced."

He stayed silent, so you continued.

"Who was there for his first soccer goal? Who taught him to ride a bike without training wheels? What was his first word?"

"Dad." He conceded, picking up one of Ellie's Cheerios and letting her grab it from his palm. You had him there.

"I rest my case. Although experiencing his first steps firsthand would've been amazing, it's a small part of the rest of his life. And if you know better now, then you'll be there. You'll be right there cheering him on."

He started to protest, but you beat him to it, knowing his next counterpoint.

"And if for whatever reason you're not - the same goes with Ellie's milestones too - they know their Dad is catching the bad guys, making the world a safe place not only for them, but for others too. It's a good compromise, and we'll be ready to fill you in the second we're able. Like you were there the whole time."

The inevitable missing out still burdened his heart; his work was important, but so was his family. He stated he's learned, but has he? Was he still making the same mistakes?

He appreciated your sentiment, your trying, the way your eyes shone at him with the pure belief that he wasn't a letdown. You'd always seen more within him than he believed was actually there. He saw it in Jack's eyes, and Ellie's too, as young as she was. In return, every day he tried to accept it as well.

But it was hard, the fear of three pairs of eyes someday blankly staring back at him burned in his mind. He'd seen it from a different pair once before.

"Thank you," was all he could get out, nodding his head.

You brushed his hair back, pausing after the first sweep at the realization you'd messed up his styled, ready-to-go-to-work cowlicks, fixing them quickly. "We love you. And we understand."

He found your eyes, a small pinch in his heart. He hoped you always would.

Pushing his self-deprecation aside, he turned back to your daughter, who was now delighting in throwing her cereal onto the floor. Today was about her achievement. He swallowed thickly, exhaling a breath and smiling at her.

"So we have a walker now, huh?"

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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sweetreasures · 2 months ago

Text

dessert before dinner

non-idol!yunho x gn reader

smut, birthday sex, mostly just foreplay involving food, slight sensory deprevation, dom yunho, semi-humorous sexual atmosphere, masturbation, biting (no blood), deep throating

[minors dni, ageless blogs will be blocked]

happy birthday, yuyu ❤️

masterlist

when yunho mentioned craving a slice of cake for his birthday, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t anticipate the evening ending up this way:

you, donning nothing but your favorite pair of pink sheer lace panties, blindfolded and laid out on the kitchen table.

“remind me again why i do these things?” you inquire, lifting at the sides of your blindfold to take another peek at him. yunho’s back was turned as he fiddled around with some utensils in a drawer.

yunho giggles, “because you love me! now where is that…funky looking…the one you use to spread frosting.”

“a spatula?”

“sure!”

you groan, lifting up the blindfold completely before sitting up on your elbows to face your boyfriend. “please don’t use my work shit for sex.”

“i’ll buy you a new one, i promise.”

a brief pause. “in the rack nearest the fridge.”

you could practically see his tail wag as he skipped over to the fridge, collecting both the spatula and a brand new container of buttercream vanilla frosting off the counter.

of course, you had spent the entire morning slaving over an actual cake for yunho’s birthday—decorated in beautiful spring colors to celebrate both the arrival of the season and your lover into the world. but when you arrived home from work, yunho immediately sprung up from the couch to greet you with his own ideas.

“down, boy! heel!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting at the man who had taken you into arms and attacked your neck with little kisses. “how about after dessert? i’m peckish.”

wordlessly, he broke away, a faint trail of saliva following his reddened lips as he stepped back to look you in the eye.

neither of you considered yourselves particularly vanilla as a couple—sure, the two of you weren’t fucking in the dressing room, but that doesn’t mean the conversation never came up. which is why you weren’t exactly surprised to hear when he vocalized his request to test out something he had been wanting to try: food.

“you look so fucking amazing right now.” yunho mumbles, setting his supplies down on the table. he gets excited just thinking about your body. the pliant tissue of your thighs dip into the imprints of where his fingers grip onto you. yunho takes a deep breath, scared that he might release in his pants before the frosting lid even comes off.

an occasional draft of cool air blows into the kitchen and softly grazes at your erect nipples. you shiver under the darkness of the blindfold, relying on little more than the sounds of his actions and the sensation of his touch to predict his next move. you feel vulnerable. and so aroused.

he removes his hands and a soft whine involuntarily escapes from your throat.

pop

click

yunho pries the lid off and lets it fall to the table. he lifts the covering from the frosting, the sickeningly sweet aroma of vanilla and sugar quickly filling the dining room. he takes two fingers and scoops out a hearty serving, slowly lowering his frosted-covered fingers to your left breast before trailing down to your stomach.

you groan at the stimulation against your sensitive nipple. the fats in the frosting provide a surprisingly effective barrier from the cold air and your pussy clenches at the temperature change.

yunho leans over the table, holding onto your waist for stability as he positions himself right over your breast—taking a second to admire both his gorgeous partner and his work. he isn’t the most patient person when it comes to his libido, wanting nothing more in this very moment than to rip your panties off and bury his face inside your heat. but he notices how frustrated you get as he hovers over you, the wet spot on your panties growing darker against the blushed hues. if the suspense was getting to him, it was surely destroying you. he enjoyed witnessing the conflict within your body as you struggled not to squirm.

he starts around the areola, tonguing a circular pattern around your nipple as he lapped up the delectable frosting, stopping frequently to suck down until the skin turned a slight red. you yelp, both hands flying up to grasp at his hair. yunho chuckled before carefully detangling your fingers from his locks, intertwining them with his own instead.

“hey. doing okay?”

you exhale shakily, “yes. i don’t know. please just fuck me, yunho.”

normally, yunho would praise you for being so open and vocal about what you wanted him to do to you. but it seems your exasperation was also a part of his little birthday show.

he continues on starting from the belly button. yunho’s tongue steadily licked up your torso, taking a moment to appreciate the unique landscape of rolls and patches of fine hair. he detours to kiss at some stretch marks, hoping to send the message that there was nobody more special in the world on this very night than you. he smiles against your skin as you whimpered in response.

“yunho-”

“you know what would make this taste even better, my love?” yunho slips a finger underneath the narrow strip of fabric covering your entrance. you were soaked, your juices dripped off of your thighs leaving a slick sheen on the surface beneath you. he presses it inside to the first knuckle, teasing at your hole and taking pleasure in the way it drove you crazy.

“please, please, please…” you repeat softly, a mantra of desperation aimed at nobody in particular. you aren’t sure what you want him to do—finger you, pound you, eat you. he pulls his finger to the right, opening up your hole wide enough to stick another finger inside. he begins to move, pumping his hand at a painstakingly slow pace. you were desperate for friction, but he wasn’t quite ready to give it to you, needing to prepare you for the next step.

you feel as he removes his fingers from your pussy, bringing them up to his mouth before eagerly shoving them past his lips. he always said you were the sweetest person in the world, and he meant it. he licks between his fingers in an attempt to collect every last drop.

yunho picks up the spatula from the table and places the flat side against your folds. he plays with the milky secretion, smearing it around the blade as he presses against your engorged clit. then, he places the spatula in the jar, stirring your slick into a silky mixture tailor made for yunho’s palette. once more he scoops some frosting onto his fingers and spreads it on your inner thighs. much rougher this time.

yunho pulls you down the table until your ass rest on the edge. you listen as the legs of a chair scrape against the faux wooden floor, stopping right in front of you. yunho takes a seat and leans forward to guide his tongue over the haphazard spread of frosting. he’s getting hornier and messier. yunho’s cock had been fighting against his zipper from the moment you agreed to become his pre-dinner treat. he contemplates removing his own clothes to ease the tension, but he also knows the one thing stopping him from jumping onto the table and stuffing you full of his cock is the durable denim of his jeans.

the frosting mixed with the sweat dripping from your thighs leaves a salty aftertaste as yunho continues to enjoy his “meal”. he bites down on your flesh, running his tongue over the teeth marks to soothe any irritation.

“so good to me. ‘m so hot right now, yunho. yunho.” somehow you make your way back into his hair, pushing down slightly as he ravishes your other thigh, stopping just short of your quivering folds. he eyes your clit and blows on it to elicit a reaction. the repetition of his name falls off your lips as you scream, back arching in agony as you ache for more stimulation.

yunho couldn’t wait any longer, diving towards your heat as he slurps up the sweet and musky slick. he pays critical attention to the clit—visibly touch starved—sucking at the bundle of overactive nerves and grazing your nub with his teeth. you mindlessly shove your pussy closer to his face, rubbing your clit on his nose while his tongue explores your spongy walls.

“cumming. yunho ‘m gonna cum. harder. fuck—wait, too hard…SHIT!” you crashed just as yunho had taken to vacuuming your delicate clit again, flicking at it furiously as you soak his chin in pleasure. you continue to shake when he rises to look at the result of his work: your completely fucked out expression and precious, flushed cheeks.

yunho has no idea when his cock ends up in his grip. he rubs comforting circles on your stomach to bring you down from orgasm, stroking his veiny girth at a similar speed. he’s seconds away from coming into his hands, highly aroused by the thought of you entrusting your body to him on his birthday. sticky, clear precum pools in his hand as he passes the tip. he squeezes his shaft tighter, feeling the substance squish through his fingers as he imagines you—any part of you—wrapped around him.

“babe?”

“hmm?” he moans, pace unbroken.

“would you…uh…like any help?”

you and your boyfriend laugh. scheduling conflicts left him heading home right as your head hit the pillow for the night. coupled with a particularly high sex drive, yunho was more than accustomed to getting himself off in the bathroom at the thought of you. even now, as you lie beneath him in physical form, glistening from sweat and displayed in full nudity like an enticing entree, just knowing that you were in his life and so caring, kind and loving was sending him straight to orgasm.

“here, have a taste.”

yunho opens the container and scoops the remaining frosting into his hand. cautiously, he takes his cock, spreading the white sugar just beneath the corona. eyes still covered, you sense his footsteps walking the table’s perimeter as he approached where your head lay. his thumb plays at your bottom lip, motioning for you to part them, and you eagerly comply. the unmistakably distinct taste of his tip—a bit metallic, he subsists solely on red meat—transitions suddenly as your tongue meets the vanilla frosting waiting further down his shaft.

you moan in delight, the vibrations playing at his glans. yunho wants so badly to thrust his hips as the warmth of your mouth enveloped his cock, but he knows he must now return the favor of your unwavering patience by remaining still as you bob your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling as it laps up the frosting, teeth slightly grazing the underside. you release him with a loud pop before pushing yourself up the table until your head hung over the side.

you were inviting him to fuck your throat. yunho seized the opportunity without a second’s hesitation. you took him so readily, so eagerly, the walls of your throat seemingly stretched just far enough as to allow no other cock to pass but his. he liked to think he trained you up well from the person he met all those months ago, and his heart begins to swell with love as he watches you suck him clean as if it were nothing. the rubber band deep within his stomach bursts as he gives out one last thrust, emptying himself inside of you. as he carefully slides his cock out, a trail of semen follows behind as he spurts another load onto the roof of your mouth.

you take a second to clear your throat—and your head. yunho stumbles to lean against the wall behind him, his breathing laboured as if he had just completed a half marathon. removing the blindfold from your eyes, you scan the room in search of your boyfriend before spotting him crouched on the floor, ears red as ripe tomatoes.

you exaggerate licking your fingers, “no you were right…this is good…”

yunho chuckles. its the only noise he can manage in his post-nut haze. you push yourself from the table, taking a mental note of how much bleach you were going to need to properly sanitize your one shared eating space.

stomachs growl in unison.

“i have the ingredients for seaweed soup in the kitchen,” yunho offers up, embarrassed to know you were only this hungry because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

you clap excitedly, “i’ll get it started!”

A/N: this was not meant to be this long. it started out as a bedtime drabble because i didn’t want to be awake for the concert stream, ended up with several thousand words and i still missed the stream. thank you for 100+ notes on better 🙏 i’m still relatively new to writing smut, so i appreciate feedback and suggestions on what you want to read. if you’ve made it this far, you could start by voting in this poll as to which unfinished work you would rather read first!

i’m also getting a taglist together! if you are interested, please fill out this form!

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bobasbn · 2 months ago

Text

prolonged wishes

691 words | Zayne X Reader | Married Life, Domestic Fluff about: a very little scenario about Zayne's hair growing out due to being super busy being a doctor to the point where he's unable to get a haircut in. a/n: I love Zayne with longer hair there's just more to pull on idk IDK WHO SAID THAT also, I like writing small scenarios like this when I'm busy but I'm hoping to get a longer one out next

You haven’t seen your husband in what feels like forever.

An elbow perched upon the windowsill, you gaze outside watching the busy world move around you as you’re left waiting for Zayne.

Zayne’s been extra busy lately, and you haven’t seen him much in the past few weeks between his surgeries and other consultations he’s always being called to the hospital for. He hasn’t been able to talk to you much or eat any meals with you. You come home after work to an empty house. You miss him.

When you see his car pull into the driveway and you swear the colours of the world instantly became brighter. You jump up from your spot, the sound of the front door being closed shut with a thud is a sound you missed.

“Darling?” He calls out. There’s no doubt that he’s shedding his coat and glasses, taking a few steps into your shared abode.

That’s when you attack him. You catch him by surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck and yanking him towards you. Zayne instinctively places his hands firmly on your hips to stabilize himself, surprised but amused by your over-the-top greeting. He can’t help but greet you immediately with a kiss, letting it linger on your lips a little longer than he initially intended.

“I missed you,” he whispers against your lips before pulling away with a satisfied smile plastered on his face.

“I missed you too,” you breathlessly respond after reciprocating such a soulful kiss. Your eyes take in the sight of him as if you haven’t seen him for years. Your hands cradle his face, all he feels is warmth from your hold aside from the cold metal of your wedding ring. Your eyes boring into his hazel ones as your fingers play around with the strands of hair that now reach past the nape of his neck.

You can’t help but notice the more rugged look Zayne has taken on from these past few weeks of being so busy. He hasn’t even had time to cut his hair. The ebony locks are longer, framing his face and getting in the way of the collars of his shirts. To you he still looks captivating, maybe even more with this new alluring look of his.

“Do I look that different?” Zayne questions. He guides your hand in his to touch the side of his hair, feeling the longer strands slide between your fingers.

“I’m aware that I’m due for a haircut, perhaps I should visit the barber tomorrow?” He mutters, still leading your fingers to rake through his longer hair. You snap out of your trance.

“The barber? So soon?” You ask, not bothering to help the small frown on your face. “I like this new look. You look more like a badass doctor,” you add on.

That answer seemed to have surprised Zayne, given by the way his eyebrows raise slightly in disbelief. He softens immediately and places a kiss on your palm.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable, especially when I have to put on my scrubs,” Zayne explains. You understand the practicality of his shorter hair but you can’t help but prefer his longer hair for a little while more.

“I understand,” you say, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. Zayne chuckles at your act, knowing exactly what you meant by that.

“...This would be an easier decision if a certain someone didn’t look like I just ate all the ice cream in the fridge,” Zayne muses. He gently pinches your cheek, finding all of your reactions to be extremely adorable. He relents, “Fine, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to keep this unruly hair for a few more days.”

“Weeks,” you correct. You have no hesitation to ruffle his hair, molding it to stick out in all directions from your gesture. “Weeks? You’re taking too much advantage now, darling,” he mutters. Despite wanting to appear firm on this small thing, he relents once again. He can never say no to you, whether it’s about sharing his dessert or moving countries. He would do anything you tell him to do. “Alright, for as long as you wish.”

- I live for husband-y Zayne drabbles

#zayne x mc #love and deepspace #lnds #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #zayne being a perfect husband #zayne x reader

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eraserbread · 13 days ago

Note

nanami and pregnant resided sensually feeding eachother in bed would fix me 🙏

→ pregnant!freader, feeding, malewife kento, mention of drinking, sfw

the air smells like curry, the fans are on high, and the windows are open. It's mid-fall, right in the peak of your third trimester. swollen ankles, painful stretch marks—all of it—have you bound back to the bed.

kento has been cooking dinner most nights; tonight, he made curry. he is the perfect husband, coming home straight from work with no time to settle before diving into caring for you again. he does it with a nonchalant smile on his face, willing to dive to the dirtiest ends of the earth to dote on his pregnant wife.

he steps into the room with two bowls cradled in his hands. hair all disheveled and work shirt falling off the bone. kento's never cooked so much in his life, you do all of it because you love to. now, he's standing at the stove with a furrowed brow, scratching his head as he tries to read your chicken-scratch recipes.

"yum, what do you have there?" you're mumbling, sitting up as he rounds your side of the bed. it's been hard to focus on much at this stage, too—reading was harder, and your mind kept getting lost. all you could really focus on now is the sound of music, the thought of your baby, and scrolling endlessly on sites to buy things for her. a few days ago, you two settled on a name. kento chose it; he wanted to name his daughter nanami rin.

"ah. curry. " he's quirking a brow, making a flustered look you don't see often on him. "c-chicken. pork, too, and some nuts. used that base you had in the fridge, you'd know better than I would."

"thank you for taking care of me," you whisper when he crawls into bed, a pair of chopsticks between his teeth, pulls off his shirt, and loosens his pants. he'd not usually be so careless, but he did have a drink while preparing your dinner and was so ready to be on your skin.

"thank you for carrying our girl." the first place he kisses you is against your loose cami, right above your belly button. then, he moves to your sternum, nuzzling his nose against your heart. his chopsticks are in his hand now, digging into the fleshy part of your thigh unintentionally. "dinner's the least I can do."

you spend a moment looking at him, tracing a finger over his cheek. he's at the perfect vantage point to kiss, but he doesn't. it's how you know his demeanor is off, you thumb at his bottom lip. "bad day at work?"

"no," he sighs, sitting up to fetch the bowl he was planning on giving you—the bowl with most of the meat and vegetables. kento always makes sure you eat well at this point. "well, I was just worried about you... any day, now."

he's scooping in your porcelain bowl, grabbing the perfect bite to present. gently, you smile into it, taking the utensils between your teeth. flickering eyes, kento watches it disappear behind your lips, it makes him smile. "how is it?" he asks, sucking the chopsticks clean after you to try his cooking.

"it's good cause i meal prepped for it."

"would just be a base in the fridge if I didn't finish it."

"yes, kento, and you did so well." he's giving you another bite, a slight shake behind his hand. you reach forward and grab it, giving him stability to guide between your lips. "mm, here. you try it." you sit up a bit too fast for comfort, but you hide the lightheadedness enough to feed kento a bite, smiling like an idiot when he lets you. "'s good?"

"tastes like your curry." now, he's leaning in to kiss you, big hand tangled in your thigh, forming wells in your skin. you kiss him back, tasting the strong, pale taste of alcohol on his breath.

"that's what you taste like." you're speaking against his lips, smiling when you tell him, "and alcohol. one more kiss and I'll be drunk."

"don't speak like that, you've got my baby inside you. she's far too delicate for those jokes." that hand on your thigh trails back to your jutting belly. his grip is real -- like he's not afraid of touching you, but still so gentle with how he cradles the weight of her.

you're swimming with affection, whispering, "i love you."

#fuckkk i love him so bad #eraserasks #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #.nanami <3 #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami fanfic #nanami fluff

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blueberrybirdsworld · 8 days ago

Text

Collision 20/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : last chapter so pure fluff

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 20 : SMAU

BeReal: @landonorris

Shared to: Close Friends Only

Cohabitation update: she brought the cat, the ribbon collection & half a ballet studio. I brought… enthusiasm.

🗯️ Replies (Close Friends Only):

Carlos

MONACO???

YOU MOVED IN WITH HER??

WE BLINKED AND YOU’RE A HUSBAND.

Charles

I KNEW IT

also tell Ari we expect invites now

Pietra

I am ACTUALLY CRYING

this is the final boss of the soft boy arc

Max Fewtrell

“I brought enthusiasm” 💀 bro what happened to you

used to be scared of cats

now you’re living with one and two silk robes probably

Pierre

this man went from “no labels” to “we live together and share ribbon storage” real quick

Max Verstappen

ARIA HAS A BALCONY NOW !

I’M COMING TO VISIT FOR THE CAT

will she let me hold her yet??? I’ve been manifesting this.

Oscar

can you confirm if this also means you now own throw pillows and scented candles?

George

this is the most emotionally evolved I’ve ever seen you 🥹

Kika

i’m actually sobbing. soft girls win again

Rebecca

also Ari look GLOWY??? is that love or monaco sun, or both???

Alexandra

this is my roman empire

Group Chat: Grid Gossip 🏁

Carlos

so… just to clarify

@Lando did you actually move in with the ballerina and her cat?? 🧐

George

Really enjoying this transformation from “I don’t do feelings” to

“I now live with an emotionally intelligent woman and her suspicious cat”

✨Brilliant arc✨

Oscar

He used to flinch when he heard me say “relationship.”

Now she owns 90% of his apartment

Lando

you’re all SO dramatic

it’s just a flat

calm down

Charles

oh okay

a flat you moved into with your girlfriend

with a cat you used to fear but now call “baby”

Lando

I DID THAT ONCE 🙄

George

And we’ll never forget. 😌

Pierre

How many ribbons is she up to now?

Do you guys have a color-coded emotion chart on the fridge?

Lando

...maybe.

Max Verstappen

okay but more importantly

how is Aria doing???

is she adjusting?

is she happy?

does she need anything??? 😟

Carlos

mate. focus.

Max Verstappen

I AM.

ON THE CAT.

Lando

i hate all of you

deeply and emotionally

George

mate, you’re halfway to adopting a second cat

don’t threaten us with feelings

Charles

congrats tho 🫶

happy for you both

also pls invite us for dinner

Lando

🙄 fine

next weekend. pasta night. bring wine.

Group Chat: Fan club of Ariana

Created by Charles Leclerc

9:12 AM | the morning after dinner

Charles

good morning to everyone except Lando and his fairy-tale domestic life

Carlos

did anyone else feel like they stayed in a boutique spa ?

Oscar

his soap smells like jasmine and stability

I didn’t know that was possible

Pierre

the real question is

why do I feel safer at THEIR place than in my own apartment 🫠

Carlos

and WHY did i walk into the kitchen and find Lando

making espresso

shirtless

with one hand on Ariana’s waist

like a bloody Chanel ad

Charles

he even kissed her temple while she stirred oatmeal

i almost screamed 😩

Max Verstappen

you guys have you saw Aria let me pet her ?

that’s real

that’s progress 🐈✨

Oscar

I don’t think the convo was about the cat, Max

Max Verstappen

Not my fault they have very similar name, I thought it was a group chat about the cat

George

Did you really think we were talking about Lando and the cat all this time ??

Max Verstappen

What could we possibly talk about then ? 🤨

Carlos

The fact Lando have a girlfriend mate

Lando

…can I help you??

What’s the group chat name about ? 😒

George

yeah

explain why your fridge has oat milk, elderflower, and no longer Red Bull

WHO ARE YOU 💀

Lando

we have taste. leave me alone.

Pierre

you said “we.” 😭

WE.

Carlos

so when’s the engagement then? 💍👀

Lando

go home

Pierre

mate

you’re in too deep

it’s been HOW MANY months??

Carlos

someone tell this man the honeymoon phase does end

you don’t have to act like she just invented the sun every time she smiles

George

he’s got “day 3 of knowing her” energy

but it’s been half a year

Oscar

smiling at each other across ravioli doesn’t count as a personality

Lando

okay, yes

but this morning she said “I feel like the sea when I’m near you”

what was I supposed to do??? NOT CRY?? 😭😭

Carlos

she said “I feel like the sea” ??

I’m gonna throw a fork at something

George

my grandma didn’t even speak to my grandad like this and they were married for 47 years 💀

Charles

he’s living in a sonnet

meanwhile i just reheated pasta and got judged by my dog

Lando

slander aside

we’re happy

she’s happy

and I love her

deal with it 😌🫶

Max Verstappen

good for you

but real question is Aria more tuna or salmon for treats ??

i actually need answers I’m in the store rn

Charles

mate stop obsessing over the cat 😭

Max Verstappen

BUT I LOVE CATS

Lando

it’s kinda weird you’re more into a cat than my overly really great love life

but yeah salmon, Aria has standards 🐱

Max Verstappen

great I buy 10

also I’m starting a new group chat about the cat asap

George

the real relationship in question here is max and the cat tbh 💅

This is it, it's the last chapter of this very long and very important series for me. I enjoyed so much writting this story and interacting with everyone of you who commented, liked or reposted this, so thank you so much for your support!

I have maybe an idea for a bonus chapter...so the storie is not completly finish ;)

Until then my request are still open for future stories :)

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut

Let me know if you want to be add to the taglist !

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