#“baby can you please just write it for me

[plutoslastwords]

I see lando as a single dad too and I was wondering if you’d ever write daughter!reader when she’s a teenager and is going through, well her first menstrual cycle and he’s so completely lost lol

shark week

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: lando has no idea how a woman's body works, baby norris doesn't listen in health class. the outcome? chaos.

warnings: your first period?

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i know that it may be unrealistic that a 12 year old would have never heard of a period but idc. it works in the story. sorry for being so mia!! school is terrible atm 😩😩 love you all!! promise i am working on the requests xx

~~~

Going to high school in Monaco was not fun at the best of times.

Everyone says that surely it must be great! It’s Monaco! But when you don’t speak the language fluently - though you have got quite good after living there for 12 years of your life - and have just transferred to a new secondary school where you know no one, life isn’t great. 

Everyone in Monaco has one or two parents who are rich and famous in some way, meaning you can’t even pull the famous dad card to get yourself some friends. You’re stuck sitting alone at lunch, and being picked last for every team.

Lando hates it. He hates it so so much. He doesn't think he can stand seeing his baby coming home sad every afternoon, and he hates how sometimes he can’t be there to comfort you when life is feeling especially tough. He’s debated many a time just sending you to a boarding school back in England, where at least you could speak the same language as the kids there, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to cope with being apart from you for that much of the year.

Therefore, both you and your dad just have to cope with the unfortunate situations, hoping and wishing that soon enough you’ll find your own feet and make some friends. 

Back to the fact that school in Monaco isn’t great on the best days, school in Monaco is absolute hell on the worst days.

On this particular day, you were sitting in Maths class, your least favourite, how were you meant to be able to understand maths in French when you didn’t even understand it in English. It was whilst the teacher was going on about something to do with algebra that you decided that you’d had enough, you put your hand up and quickly asked to go to the bathroom, you weren’t bothered about this anymore.

You took your normal long route around school to get to the bathrooms, having no intention of going back to your maths class anytime soon. You finally get to the bathrooms and it is there that you learn that you’re going to die.

You know that it is not normal to have blood in your pants. It can’t be normal. You must be dying. You sit there in shock for a moment, before starting to hyperventilate and presume the worst. 

When looking back, Lando knows that it is probably his fault that you got yourself into this situation. You never really listened in your Health classes, as they were all in French, and so it was probably his responsibility to educate you on what was going to happen at a certain point, but he’s still just a young guy, that was not top of his list of what he wanted to talk to his preteen daughter about!

You sit in the bathroom stall sobbing and shaking, surely this is the end, you were practically waiting for the Grim Reaper himself to come and pluck you away. In your disorientated mind the only thing that you can think to do is call Lando.

“Daddy I’m dying!” You bawl into the phone, the words barely coming out through your intense sobs.

Immediately Lando drops everything he was doing, freezing at your distressed tone, his mind going straight to the worst. “Baby?!? What’s going on, are you okay?!?” He practically shouts down the phone.

“No!!” You sob, “I’m dying!!!! Daddy please pick me up I-” You don’t finish your sentence because enough intense sob comes in the way and you fall back into hysterically crying.

Lando doesn’t even think twice before leaping up from his desk and rushing to grab his car keys. “I’m on my way, my angel, you’re gonna be okay, daddy’s gonna look after you.” He tries to soothe, but the worry in his voice is evident. 

When he arrives you’re still a sobbing mess, but you have to drag your tear stained body out of the cubicle and to the front office in order to be dismissed. When you see Lando you immediately jump into his arms, sobs wracking your body.

“Oh darling…”  He says, brokenly, he hates seeing you like this, “What’s happened, my love?” 

You don’t respond, too distressed, he seems to get the message and manoeuvres you to the car, where he drives home as quick as he can, to get you someplace familiar, hoping that that will soothe you slightly.

It works, partially. By the time that you’re home your sobbing has lessened, but you’re still nowhere near stable, still almost shaking with the fear that you’re feeling. Lando sits you down on the sofa with a glass of water, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I’m dying!! I’m bleeding and I’m dying!” You sniffle.

Suddenly everything clicks for Lando and then his mind goes completely blank. Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. He was not ready for this day, not ready whatsoever. 

“I-uhm-oh.” He stutters, not knowing what to say. “Y-you’re not dying, sweetheart, okay?”

“Yes I am!!! I’m dying!!!”

He has no idea what to do. He was hoping he had a year or two left before today came, but apparently luck was not on his side. He sits there, staring blankly at you, as you continue to cry. 

“Baby, I promise you you’re not dying, why don’t you go change your clothes and I’ll come up to your room in a sec and we’ll chat, okay?”

You shuffle to your room, still sobbing but if you’re dad seems so confident that you’re okay, then surely that means something…?

Lando paces around in a panic downstairs, waiting for his sister to answer the damn phone. There is no way that he can be doing this with no help.

After a horrible phone call, with a lot of him being laughed at by his sister for having a 12 year old daughter and still knowing fuck all about the menstrual cycle, he feels more prepared to actually talk to you.

You’re sitting in your bed, covered in blankets and watching a movie when he knocks at your door.

“Darling, can I come in?” 

You hum in response, tired from all of the sobbing and therefore not bothered to actually speak. He enters, with a shopping bag in his hand.

“How're you feeling, my angel?”

You shrug, curling up smaller in your blanket ball.

“Oh, baby, you’re okay, I promise, it’s all natural, okay?”

“Doesn’t feel natural…”

“It’s your period, angel. It’s your body getting ready for pregnancy”

You pull a face of absolute horror at that, “I’m pregnant?!??!”

His eyes widen and he backtracks immediately “No, no, no, no, you’re not pregnant, absolutely not.” He shudders at the thought, “It’s just so that maybe, at some point in the future, if you do get pregnant, your body is gonna be prepared…”

“So I’m gonna bleed until I get pregnant?”

“No, no, just for a couple days every month…”

“For how long?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure about that… like until your 40? I don’t know…”

“40?!??!?! I don’t want to bleed every month until I’m 40!!!!”

“I know, baby, but it’s just something that all women have to go through, it’s just a natural part of life, you’ll learn to cope with it…”

You pause, taking in his words, before eventually nodding in understanding, but that doesn’t mean that you’re done talking, much to Lando’s dismay, who’d quite like to get this conversation over and done with.

“So why do I need to bleed to be ready for pregnancy?” You question.

Lando knows this one, he practised it on the phone with his sister, “It’s the wall of your uterus shedding-”

“Ew.”

“Because your body got itself ready to be pregnant, and then obviously the egg was never fertilised.”

“So if I did get pregnant then I wouldn’t get my period?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Hm.”

“It’s all very normal, sweetheart, this just means that you’re healthy, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Good..” He smiles, “You all good?”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What am I gonna do now..? With, you know, uhm- I don’t wanna ruin all my underwear…”

“Oh! Yes, that..” He reaches into his bag, “So, uh- these will stick on top of your underwear, and like uh- catch the blood, I guess.. And then you throw them away after wearing them for like 5 hours or so… That sound okay?”

You nod, slightly sceptical, but oh well.

Eventually, Lando leaves to go and do his own thing, and you stew in the knowledge of your new life. After getting yourself showered and cleaned up, as well as trying your new items, you shuffle downstairs, just needing a hug.

“Hey, baby…” Your dad smiles, as he sits on the tv, watching some nonsense reality show.

You don’t reply, just nestling yourself next to him, needing his comforting touch. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“My baby… getting so big… daddy loves you, more than anything…”

~~~

a/n: fank you for reading!!11 send in any requests xx

[oofmybad]

“It feels good. Just new”

Synopsis: billie straps you for the first time. That’s legit everything. Nothing groundbreaking.

Warnings: dom!billie x sub!reader, strap, spanking, squirting, mildly rough sex, NOT proofread, I think that’s it.

Words: idk

A/n: this is my first time writing smut. And I wrote it in ~maybe~ 5 minutes max lol. So it’s probably shit. Couldn’t quite get myself to proofread it back. But just wanna post it to get past the shyness pfft. Anyway, enjoy (I hope).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you want to do this? Because we don’t have to.”

“Yeah, baby. Of course I do. I- i really want you.”

“Ok pretty girl. Tell me if you want me to stop, or anything. You’re in control, always.” Billie says as she lines the strap up to your core.

“Um… Will it… hurt?” You ask, slightly embarrassed of your lack of experience.

“It shouldn’t do if you’re turned on enough. You feel pretty wet to me. But it might feel like a bit of a stretch at first.” Billie says as she strokes your baby hairs away from your forehead.

You take a big breath and hold the air in, anticipating the sensation. “Ok” you say, now determined.

“Uh uh, you gotta breathe, baby” Billie takes one of your hands and places it on her own chest so that you can copy her breathing, “here, follow me”.

You are now breathing at a steady pace when Billie reaches for your hand that’s placed on her chest, so that she can clasp her fingers in between yours, holding your hand that’s now laying next to your head.

“I’m just gonna put the tip in, ok?” Billie says keeping firm and controlled eye contact with you.

Just like that, her unwavering confidence melts any lingering worry away. “Please” you say, the word slipping past your lips like a begging whimper.

“Mm!” You gasp a moment later once Billie has pushed the first inch or so inside of you.

“You ok? Need me to stop, angel?” Billie’s eyes shoot up from your bodies connecting to search your eyes for any discomfort.

“No, no! It feels good. Just new, that’s all” you reply.

“Ok I’m gonna go a little deeper now” Billie warns you before pushing further into your pussy, inch by inch - she periodically waits for you to get used to the new stretch.

“Mmmh…fuck-“ you let out a moan as the full length of the strap pushes against your walls. You let go of Billie’s hand in order to wrap your hands around her back, tightly clasping onto her shoulders with your nails, and pulling her body flush with yours.

“Ugh, god” Billie moans, almost like a reply to your altered, deeper, position. “I can feel you clenching. You feel so good”

“Please give me more, Billie” you plead.

“What do you want, angel?” Billie whispers into your neck, her teeth nibbling at the tender skin of your collarbones.

“I want you to fuck me” you pause to think “…hard”.

Billie pulls her head back to search for any doubt in your eyes, but she finds nothing but desperate longing. Without another word, Billie pulls the strap out of you, quickly ramming it back inside of you repeatedly - your g spot getting hit every time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you practically wail out.

“Can you turn around for me, baby?” Billie asks as she positions herself to be towering over you. Pulling the strap out at the same time.

You sigh, almost whimper, at the loss of sensation. But you quickly obey, turning around so that the right side of your face is being pressed against the mattress and your ass is in the air.

Billie lines the strap up with your entrance once again, teasing your clit at the same time, and asks “you ok?”

“Omg yes! Please just-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before Billie thrusts back into you, hitting places you didn’t know existed inside of you, as she smacks ur ass with each thrust - enjoying the recoil.

Your hands neurotically search for something to hold onto. Landing on the pillow above your head that’s leant on the headboard. “God! Oh, fuck” you moan out, panting with every thrust.

“You take me so well, angel” Billie says as she uses her tattooed hand to push up your spine towards your neck, creating an even deeper arch. Billie moans at the glorious sight in front of her.

This new angle sends you into another dimension. You are literally dizzy and seeing stars. “I have to cum! Please!”

“Already, baby? Hold it for me. Be good” Billie huffs as she continues to smash her hips into your ass.

“I can’t”

“Yes you can” Billie retorts as she reaches round to rub your clit again.

“Ah, pleaseeee baby!” You whine.

“I said not yet” Billie snaps sternly. You would be scared of her if you weren’t so turned on. She smacks your ass one, two, three more times to show you how much she means it.

But this only causes you to unravel completely. Moan after moan explodes from your mouth - you not even having a chance to warn Billie that you’re cumming.

From behind you, and through your moans, you can faintly hear Billie’s grunts in time with her hips stuttering against yours. She’s doing her very best to keep fucking you through your simultaneous orgasms.

Hearing her struggle to not whimper is the final straw for you. A rubber band inside your core snaps as you try to warn Billie. “Fuck! I’m gonna pee! Wait!”

Billie, being more experienced than you, knows that you’re gonna squirt so she musters up all the strength she has left. She roughly grips your ass cheeks and uses them as handles to pull herself further into you.

“Uhhhnn. Fuckuhhh” your expletive moans, skin slapping, and the sound of your juices crashing onto Billie’s thighs and the mattress are all that can be heard in your bedroom.

[halsteadlover]

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: can you please write charles x reader she give him a blowjobs while he drives 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

• Warnings: oral sex m. receiving, dirty talk, swearing, semi public sex, unprotected sex (y’all already know what to do), this is just smut and pretty much zero plot lol

• Word count: 3.2K

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+. This is straight up ass but here we go anyways lmao

You were always meant to be a passenger princess not because you were lazy or you didn’t want to drive, but because you could sit there for hours and admire your husband for as long as you wanted.

Seriously, he had no business looking so good while driving and no matter how many car rides you took together, you’d never get used to that sight. You couldn’t even understand how lucky you were to have that man and being able to say he was your man.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not even if you wanted to.

One hand on the wheel, veins prominent under his golden skin, the other resting on your thigh, casual, effortless. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the sharp lines of his forearms, and there was a crease between his brows as he bit his bottom lip in concentration. It was the kind of look that made it hard to think straight, let alone behave.

His fingers drew imaginary circles on your inner thigh, absentmindedly, unaware of the effect he was actually having on you. You were going crazy. You wanted him so much you couldn’t even think straight anymore.

“You’re awfully silent chérie, what are you thinking about?” he asked, waking you up from your daydream. Even his voice was so sexy, with that accent that could send you into a total turmoil.

He looked at you for a moment before returning his gaze to the road. You didn’t answer right away, you continued to let your gaze travel along his face, the profile of his nose, the outline of his lips, his jaw, the column of his throat, his Adam’s apple, down his chest and his arms. And fuck, his arms.

“Nothing,” you finally answered, never taking your eyes off him as you hand rested on his—the one on your thigh—caressing his skin with your nails.

“Liar. You’re staring,” he shot you another look, a half-smirk plastered across his lips. He knew you by now, after years together he had learned to know every expression, every nuance, it was almost as if he could read your mind.

You dragged your fingers up and down his bicep, caressing it, feeling it, squeezing it.

“You just look so good baby, so damn hot.”

You watched as he inhaled deeply as his finger flexed almost imperceptibly on your thighs. You leaned down to leave a kiss on his arm, then more up his bicep, his shoulders and then—as you moved closer to him—his jaw, his cheek and then the corner of his mouth.

He exhaled deeply and his fingers tightened around your thigh. “What are you doing?” He whispered, turning his head and stealing a kiss on your lips before returning his eyes to the road.

“Didn’t you sway you wanted to know what I was thinking?” You whispered back, continuing to pepper his face with kisses. They seemed innocent but—combined with your voice so sexy and seductive—it was enough to make him harden and you noticed, to your delight.

“No… Yes… Fuck baby I’m driving,” he begged and you giggled. You took off your seatbelt to make yourself more comfortable and rested one hand on his chest while you stroked his hair with the other.

“I was just thinking about how much I want you,” you nibbled his earlobe, making him sigh heavily as your hand moved down his chest, slow and sensual, “how wet I’m right now just thinking about sucking your dick, how much I want you to fuck me in this car right now…”

“Putain,” he cursed under his breath, both hands now on the wheel, knuckles clenched so hard they turned white, “you—” he cut himself off, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe what you just said that. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he quickly glanced at you, his eyes now darker, hungrier. “You can’t say things like that while I’m driving baby.”

“Why not?” you challenged, fingers grazing dangerously close to his crotch. “Can’t handle it love?”

You took your time, letting your fingers grace over the bulge straining against his jeans, light enough to make him twitch under your touch but nowhere near enough to give him what he wanted.

What he needed.

“Please don’t do this to me…”

“Already so hard for me mon amour?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Is this all for me?”

His breath stuttered, and for a second, he said nothing, just gripped the steering wheel tightener, knuckles pale against the leather.

But you weren’t letting him get away that easily.

Your fingers fiddled with his belt, slow and unhurried as you popped the button and eased the zipper down. He made a sound deep in his throat, half curse, half plea, and you felt his hips shift, like he was trying to give you more room to touch him.

You slipped you hand inside his pants and rubbed the palm of your hand on his hard dick, making him moan and curse again. “Merde bébé…” he groaned, a low, desperate sound that made your pussy clench.

“Answer me,” you urged, slowing your movements. “Is this for me baby?”

His head fell back against the seat for a split second, jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might break it. “Oui…” he finally breathed out, voice rough and wrecked. “Yes, fuck—all for you, baby. Always…”

You slid your hand beneath the fabric of his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his dick and let out a moan so hot and sexy. “Please—oh my God… You’re going to make me crush.”

Your touch was soft at first, just enough to make him tremble beneath your hand. You stroked him lazily, dragging your thumb over his sensitive and wet tip, feeling his dick pulse in your palm.

“No, I’m not. You’re going to keep us safe won’t you baby?”

His thighs tensed beneath your fingers, and when you squeezed him just a little tighter, he let out another moan.

“You’re not being fair,” he muttered, but his voice broke on the last word when you gave him another slow, deliberate stroke.

“Who said I play fair?” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss against his jaw. “I just want to make you feel good, don’t you want that?”

“Fuck yes,” he answered so fast it made you chuckle. You lowered his pants and underwear further, until his hard dick finally sprung free. “You’re—fuck—you’re going to ruin me.”

You didn’t answer to that, but leaned down and darted your tongue out before giving a slow and deliberate lick along the shaft of his dick, making him hiss. You slowly drew imaginary circles on his tip, tasting his salty precum.

“Holy— Ah yeah chérie just like that.” His hand left the wheel for a second just so he could tangle his fingers in your hair, tugging at it like he knew you liked. You took him all in your mouth and Charles swerved the car slightly before quickly regaining control, letting out a curse that was somewhere between a moan and fear.

“Mon Diey you’re going to get us killed,” he groaned and the words only seemed to fuel you up even more. Your lips circled his dick as your tongue traced circles around his soft silky skin, leaving streaks of saliva with every movement.

The car was filled only with the sounds of Charles’ uncontrolled moans and gasps and the noises you made as you gagged on his dick while he kept pushing your head down, fucking your mouth. “Yeah baby just like that… My beautiful wife takes me so fucking well…”

Your pace grew bolder now, each lick firmer, more purposeful, and the tension in his body was undeniable, the way his breath came faster, the way his thighs trembled beneath your touch. He was close. You could feel it.

His grip in your hair tightened, and when you hollowed your cheeks, taking him so deep into your throat as your hand wrapped around the base of his dick, he let out a guttural moan that was pure sin. “Putain—” The French slipped from his lips once again like a prayer, raw and desperate. “I need to touch you, I want you so fucking bad—I can’t…”

But he couldn’t, he had to concentrate with every fiber of his being on driving, keeping his eyes on the road and focusing to not crash his car into someone. He couldn’t concentrate on the beautiful woman who had her head between his legs and was sucking his dick so voraciously as if she physically needed it to live.

He thanked the Lord in that moment for having tinted windows or it would’ve been hard to explain to his bosses why images of him receiving a blowjob from his wife while driving were printed on all the newspapers and magazines.

His head fell back against the seat for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, struggling to hold himself together.

“God baby your mouth feels like heaven, you’re going to kill me,” he rasped again, though the way his hips jerked mimicking your movement, chasing the heat of your mouth, told you he didn’t want you to stop.

Charles felt like he was about to come but he didn’t want to, he wanted to explode inside you, filling your hot, wet pussy to the last drop.

So, the car swerved suddenly, and before you could process it, Charles yanked the wheel and veered onto the side of the road with a rough, urgent movement. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sharp stop.

Your head lifted in surprise, lips still glossy and swollen, and you barely had time to catch your breath before his hand was on you—pulling you up, dragging you into his lap with a hunger that felt heat rushing straight through you.

Charles grabbed your hair in a fist and crushed his lips against yours in a kiss that sucked the soul out of your body.

“You really think I was going to let you finish me like that?” his voice low and dangerous against your ear. “Not a chance. I’m going to come in this tight little pussy and you’re going to take it like the good girl you are.”

The words barely registered before his mouth was on yours again, hot, demanding, like he needed to taste you, to claim every inch of you after the way you’d wrecked him. His tongue slid against yours, making the kiss messier, urgent, filled with the kind of heat that made your head spin.

His hands were everywhere, skimming up your thighs, tugging at the hem of your dress as he freed your breast, on your ass. You gasped against his mouth when his fingers slid beneath the fabric, tracing along the edge of your underwear with a touch that was anything but patient.

“All that teasing,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your breast as his tongue traced a wet circle around your nipples, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric and stroking over your already-soaked pussy. “And you’re this wet for me?” He repeat your words.

You whimpered, hips rolling into his touch, and the sound you made had his jaw clenching, like it was taking everything in him not to lose himself completely.

“Charles,” you breathed, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please… Oh yes… I’m always wet for you baby…”

A dark, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his chest. “You were so bold a minute ago,” he taunted, dragging his fingers through your slick folds before slipping one inside you. “What happened to that confidence, mhh?”

You couldn’t answer, not when he curled his finger just right, pressing against that perfect spot that had your body arching and trembling against him.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, adding a second finger and groaning softly at how easily you took him. “You love being like this for me, don’t you? So needy… So ready. My wife is so perfect for me.”

The ache between your thighs grew unbearable, and you shifted against him, grinding against his hand in a way that made him curse softly under his breath.

“Fuck just like that,” you moaned, your hands in his hair as you pulled it in a vain attempt to survive that wave of pleasure. “You’re so good baby.”

“God, you’re driving me insane,” he rasped, pulling his fingers from you and taking them in his mouth, licking every drop of your wetness. “Merde I need to be inside you.”

He barely gave you a moment to catch your breath before he kissed you again, pulling your panties to the side. You felt his thick, heavy dick pressing against you, and the sheer desperation in his touch sent your heart racing.

“Come here, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough but desperate as he guided your hips over him. “Sit on my dick, let me make you feel good.”

The stretch was delicious, hot and perfect as you sank down onto him, and the groan that came from his lips when you took him made your head spin. His hands gripped your ass tightly, holding you there, like he needed a second to compose himself or he’d come in a second.

“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his head falling back against the seat. “You feel so good, so fucking tight around me.”

You leaved open-mouthed kisses on his neck, licking the column of his throat, every inch of his skin. You braced your hands on his chest but also caressing his face, rolling your hips slowly, and his jaw tensed, letting out a deep, broken moan.

“Still think you’re in control husband?” you teased, though your voice trembled slightly as you rocked against him, savoring the way he filled you so perfectly.

His heated eyes snapped open, as he met your gaze and the look he gave you felt a delicious shiver down your spine.

His hands tightened on your ass, slapping it before thrusting his hips into you, deep and hard, stealing the breath from your lungs. And when his mouth found yours again, hungry and unforgiving, you knew you were completely done.

His kissed grew messier, desperate and claiming. His hands kept guiding you as you moved over him, his dick filling you with every roll of your body.

“Look at you,” he groaned against your lips, watching the way you took him, how your body clenched around him with every deep thrust. “So perfect. So fucking tight, baby.”

The praise sent a rush of heat straight through you, and you moaned, tilting your head back as his mouth trailed along your throat, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your arms circled his neck, your fingers going through his thick hair as he left marks, evidence of just how wrecked you made him. You knew it but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You’re so deep baby, fucking made for me,” you gasped, your fingers pulling his hair as you rocked against him harder. “You feel so—oh, God—”

A rough, broken curse slipped from his lips, and his grip on you grew almost bruising as his hips snapped up to meet yours faster, more relentless.

“You like being fucked like this? While everyone can see us?” he groaned, his voice thick and broken as he thrust up into you again like he wanted you to feel him for hours. “When can’t I even wait to get home?”

“Yes,” you breathed, clenching around him as pleasure coiled low in your stomach, hot and aching, winding tighter with every punishing stroke. “I love it, Charles. I love you.”

You tried to say something else, but every time you tried to open your mouth nothing came out but moans and gasps which—along with Charles’ and the sound of your skins clashing together—filled the car.

His mouth trailed down your chest, taking one breast between his lips and sucking it before doing the same with the other. “Fucking mine,” he sucked the spot under your ear, “mon Dieu I love you,” he rasped against your ear, each word punctuated by a deep, precise thrust that made your vision blur. “And I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

“All yours baby, forever,” you whispered against his hair, not even sure he heard you. You whimpered his name again and again, nails dragging down his back as you kept riding him, pushing you closer to the edge with every stroke of his dick.

The car windows were fogged now, the air thick and heavy with heat, but nothing mattered, nothing except him, the way he claimed you.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered grabbing your face with his hand, his voice raw and commanding in a way that made you clench around him. “I want to feel you come around me.”

The need in his tone was too much to resist. Your hand slipped between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit, and the moment you brushed against it, a loud and breathless moan escaped your lips.

“Merde,” Charles cursed again, his teeth grazing your jaw as his hips bucked up harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this—”

His words, his touch, everything, was too much and not enough all at once. Your body trembled against his, the pleasure building faster, hotter, and you knew you were right there.

“I’m so close baby, oh yes—you’re gonna make me come so hard…”

“Yeah, let go for me chérie. Come on my dick, I want to feel you.”

The filthy command shattered whatever restraint you had left. With one more swirl of your fingers, hot and blinding pleasure crashed over you, your body clenching around him as waves of ecstasy washed through you.

You cried out his name, and he groaned in response, burying himself deeper in your pussy as your walls kept clenching around him, making him completely lose his mind. His rhythm stuttered, his grip on your waist and ass bruising as he thrust into you one last time, hard and deep, before he finally let go.

His head fell against your shoulder as he spilled inside you, his hips jerking messily until he filled you till the last drop of his cum, his breath coming in rough bursts while the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through both of you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just tangled together in the dim heat of the car, bodies still pressed close, hearts racing in unison.

“My God baby.” Finally, he exhaled a soft, breathless laugh, his lips brushing against your neck. “You wear me out. I swear I’m not going on a road trip with you ever again.”

You chuckled, brushing your fingers through his hair as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. You then placed your thumb and forefinger under his chin and forced him to lift his head to look at him. “You sure about that?”

He smirked before shaking his head and kissing you softly on the lips, his arms tightening around you. “Nah baby I was kidding, I’m five seconds away from dragging you in the backseat because I’m dying to eat your pussy.”

And by the way his hands were already sliding down your back again, still hungry, not quite satisfied, you had no doubt he meant every word.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16, @ajordan2020, @multi-fandom-lover7667, @emryb, @luftmenzch, @anamiad00msday, @caroldanverwife, @bernelflo

Charles Leclerc tag list: @dallaav, @softicecr3eam, @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @Scaramou, @ironspdy, @earlgreyflowers, @rxclessmorgan7, @bubu40777168, @hiireadstuff, @lilithhs-world, @yujnrq, @aurora-maria, @decafmickey, @matchaverse, @emryb, @halleest, @edgyficuselastica, @pestal

Click here to be added to the tag list

Main masterlist

Charles Leclerc masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

Ask link

[astars-things]

"My baby, you did so well." For Quinn please 🙏

This is for 18+ readers only, if you are underage, I can't stop you from reading, just proceed with caution 

mention of- toys, sub!reader dom!Quinn hughes 

this is only my second time writing smut if you have any feedback that would be great x

smut content below 

Quinn had this rule when he was away on roadie, "no touching yourself", he went as far as hiding your toys in a locked box in your shared closet, hiding one of the keys in an old pair of shoes and the other he took away with him, he trusted you not to use your fingers, the only times you were allowed to was when he was on call giving you permission 

While cleaning out the closet, sorting through old clothes to decide what to keep and what to donate, your hand accidentally bumped into one of Quinn’s shoes. As it tipped over, a small, silver key tumbled to the floor, catching the light as it landed beside you.

You knew you shouldn’t. You knew exactly what that key unlocked. But the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your vanity chair, setting it firmly on the floor before stepping up onto it. Your fingers reached for the familiar box tucked high on the shelf — your secret stash of toys and pleasures you hadn’t touched in far too long. 

You quickly grabbed one, placing it on charge because you knew it needed it after not being used for a little bit, when you placed it on charge, you made your way into the kitchen,n washing the dishes, you had sent a timer so you didn't accidently set the apartment on fire, soon the timer rang out threw your ears

Giggly like a little kid, you ran into your shared bedroom. You were lying on your back, opening up a locked folder where you and Quinn could share audios and videos to help pass the time of roadies, little did you know Quinn got a notification when you opened this shared folder, 

Soon, finding the one you wanted, it was an audio of Quinn dirty talking to you, helping you cum, you turned on your vibrator playing the buzzing toy on your clit, your phone placed next to your ear to simulate quinn being there with you, but you needed this after him sending you photos of him being sweaty and his abs on full display, 

moans were heard through the apartment as you kept your buzzing friend on your clit moving it around in circles, soon the sensation got to much and you turned it off, you gave yourself time to come back to earth, you went to the bathroom to clean yourself up and washing off your toy and placing it back into your nightstanding setting yourself a mental reminder to put it back, 

time skip 

It had been two days since you used your toy, it was weighing on you to tell Quinn, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? "hey honey i missed you" Quinn said as he wrapped his ams around you when he walked into the apartment "I missed you too bub" you replied giving him a long kiss "Needy aren't you" He whispered in your ear you gave him a shy smile "you can have me after my shower okay?" Quinn said before giving you a forehead kiss, making his way into your shared room, He didn't know why but he got a strong gut feeling to check your nightstand so he did 

Quinn’s curiosity got the better of him as he walked over to the nightstand, fingers curling around the handle before slowly pulling the drawer open. His eyes landed on it almost immediately, your favorite toy, tucked neatly under some random receipts and hair ties, but not quite hidden enough. His brows lifted slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You’d used it recently. He could tell. By the time he reappeared in the doorway, you were scrolling mindlessly on your phone, completely unaware of what he’d just discovered. “So…” his voice was low, playful, but with an edge to it. “Anything you wanna tell me, sweetheart?” You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face. “What do you mean?” He held up the toy between his fingers, the sight of it making your stomach flip. 

You were both looking at each other intensely, you knew you were in deep trouble, "Go lay on the bed, if I see one piece of clothing on you, you're going to be in even deeper trouble," he grumbled. You quickly followed behind Quinn, you watched as he went into the bathroom to take a shower, before dealing with you, 

You quickly lay there naked, your mind wandered to how stupid you could be for not putting it back, to use it in the first place, all the thoughts left your mind as you heard the bathroom door open, Quinn standing there with one look in his  eyes, to punish you 

"you ready?" Quinn asked as he sat in front of you on the bed, you could only nod, "Words y/n I need words," He said, grabbing a condom and sliding it down his length "Yes", you quickly rushed out "Good girl", He said before he moved toward you, broad chest pressing against yours as his mouth latched onto your already hard nipple. His tongue flicked, lips sucking greedily, his other hand finding your neglected breast. His fingers rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging just enough to make you arch off the bed.

“Quinn, please” you whimpered, the need bubbling over too fast.

“Please what, baby? Please make you come on my cock after you couldn’t wait for me?” he teased, but you could feel the heat in his words. He loved that you needed him that badly, so badly you couldn’t resist touching yourself when he was gone. He didn’t make you answer. Instead, he slid his cock through your soaked folds, coating himself in your slick before sinking into you with one deep, slow thrust.

The stretch was perfect , the kind that made your toes curl and a broken moan slip past your lips.

“So fucking tight. Were you thinking about me when you fucked yourself with that toy?” His voice was a low growl in your ear. “Yes,” you gasped. “Yeah? Did it feel as good as this?” He thrust hard, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in.“No no, only you ”, you babbled, already falling apart under his pace.

Quinn didn’t hold back. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you still as he pounded into you, his cock dragging against that perfect spot with every thrust. His lips were everywhere, your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast, leaving marks to remind you whose you were.

Just when you were right on the edge, he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the vibrator you’d been caught with.“If you love this so much, let’s use it together.”

You barely had time to process his words before the toy was buzzing against your clit, the sensation making you cry out. The combined stimulation — his cock, the vibrator, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress — it was overwhelming. “Quinn, I can’t, it’s too much”

“You can.” His hand wrapped around your throat, gentle but firm. “You can, baby. You’re gonna give me everything. Every fucking drop.” The first orgasm hit fast and hard, your body seizing around him, clenching his cock so tightly he nearly lost it. But he didn’t stop. The vibrator stayed against your clit as he kept thrusting, dragging you into a second orgasm before you could even catch your breath.

“That’s my girl. So pretty when you come.” By the time your third orgasm hit, tears were slipping down your cheeks, the pleasure so intense it was almost too much. But Quinn wasn’t done. “One more, baby. Just one more.” His voice was softer now, coaxing, gentle even as he drove into you with deep, steady thrusts. The fourth orgasm ripped through you, leaving you boneless, trembling under him. Your body shook, thighs twitching, tears slipping down your temples as you whimpered his name.

That was enough. Quinn’s thrusts grew sloppy, his fingers digging into your hips as he spilled into the condom with a deep, guttural groan. He barely took a second to catch his breath before he was easing out of you, quickly discarding the condom and gathering you into his arms.“My baby,” he murmured, his lips pressing soft kisses along your hairline. “You did so well. So fucking good for me.”

His fingers traced soothing circles along your back, his touch gentle now, all of that dominance melted into soft, loving care.“Are you okay?” he whispered. You nodded sleepily against his chest, your body still trembling slightly. “I got you,” he promised, reaching for a warm washcloth to gently clean you up. Every touch was tender, every word soft, as if you were the most precious thing in the world — because to Quinn, you were. He tucked you under the covers, curling his body around yours, his hand resting over your heart.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, safe and warm and so completely his. 

[larluce]

Merlin arrives with a baby in Camelot AU

(co-writing with @roxineedstosleep )

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Chapter 2: A Baby's Call (Part 2)

In Gaius' chambers.

Merlin: (sits down, holding the baby to feed her)

Gaius: Here (gives him a baby bottle)

Merlin: Thanks. (takes the bottle and starts feeding her. Then looks around, spots some broken things and laughs) I see the baby got you a bit of trouble too.

Gaius: She was upset when you weren't around indeed. But she calmed down eventually. (serves Merlin his food on the table) Do you want some vegetables with that?

Merlin: (snorts) I know you're still angry with me.

Gaius: Your mother asked me to look after you both. What she didn't tell me is that I'd have to look after two babies instead of one.

Merlin: I got it. I was stupid.

Gaius: (softens his expression as he looks Merlin feeding the baby, murmuring to himself) In a way, you are a baby looking after a baby.

Merlin: Uh?

Gaius: (outloud) What did your mother say to you about your gifts?

Merlin: That I'm special.

Gaius: You are both special. The likes of which I have never seen before. But it seems you are not the same kind of especial.

Merlin: (lifts his head, confused) What do you mean?

Gaius: Well, magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What you both do is elemental, instinctive. However, while your eyes glow gold when you do magic, the baby's stays the same.

Merlin: Which means...?

Gaius: I don't know. You both are a question that has never been posed before.

Merlin: Did you ever study magic?

Gaius: (pauses, hesitant) Uther banned all such work twenty years ago.

Merlin: (thinking) That's not what I asked... (says) Why?

Gaius: People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons.

Merlin: (surprised) What? All of them?

Gaius: There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it.

Baby: (falls asleep) 😴

Merlin: (stands up and walks to the improvised crib they made for the baby and puts her there carefuly)

Gaius: Now, eat up. You can stay with the baby this time. I'll take Lady Helen the preparation for her voice.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you (sits to eat, thinking) If the king managed to kill almost all the dragons. Then we can't stay here for long. I hope Gaius can contact the druids soon.

Time skip. In the Lower Town. Merlin looking for somewhere to buy milk when he encounters Arthur and his gang.

Merlin: (just passes by, ignoring them, thinking) Don't talk to me, don't talk to me, don't talk to me.

Arthur: How's your knee-walking coming along?

Merlin: (thinking) Shit... (keeps walking, ignoring them)

Arthur: (mocking) Oh, don't run away!

Merlin: (stops) From you?

Arthur: (sighs) Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.

Merlin: (turning) Look, I've told you you're an ass- (cuts himself, not wanting to be send to the dungeons and be taken apart from his baby again) And I apologise for that.

Arthur: (surprised) Really?

Merlin: No, but I can't exactly speak my mind without being sent to the dungeons again, can I? (smiles forcely and bows in mockery) Your Higness. Please, go bother someone else.

Arthur: (amused And curious) And if I allowed you to speak your mind?

Merlin: Will I be sent to the dungeons after that?

Arthur: No.

Merlin: The stocks?

Arthur: You have my word no harm will come to you.

Merlin: Alright. (takes a deep breath) You are a spoiled, selfish royal prat. An ungrateful little shit, blind to the suffering of those who keep you fed, clothed, and alive. Do you even know what it is to work? To bleed? To starve?

Arthur: (his smirk falls) Hold on-

Merlin: And how do you repay the people who serves you? With cruelty and mockery. You think yourself noble because of the blood in your veins, but there is nothing noble about you. You are a leech, feeding off the labor of others while contributing nothing!

People around: (gasp)

Merlin: (bows) My lord.

Arthur: (angry) How dare you. I have fought for my people since a very young age, went to dignitary visits to maintain peace between kingdoms. So yes I do know what is to bleed and to work. But of course an ignorant peasant like you wouldn't know that.

Merlin: And yet you act like an idiot, using people as targets just for fun!

Arthur: Don't pretend you know me.

Merlin: I don't NEED to know you and I don't WANT to know you. Just. Leave me. Alone.

Knights: (wait for Arthur to tell them what do)

Arthur: (furious, his jaw tensed, but shows a serious blank face) I'm a man of my word, so I will let you leave. But if I see you again I'll have you flogged.

Merlin: (with a very fake smile) Thank you so much your highness, you are so kind. (bows in mockery again and leaves)

Time skip. In Gaius' chambers.

Gaius: (enters) How could you be so foolish?!

Merlin: (changing the baby's diapers) I don't know what you're talking about.

Gaius: Don't take me for a fool! Everyone is talking about how you humilliated the prince!

Merlin: (grins) Really?

Gaius: It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself in the dungeons again!

Merlin: He was the one who gave me permission to speak my mind! So I spoke my mind. I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't and he needed someone to tell him his truths. It's not my fault he can't handle them. (finishes to change the diapers) There you are! 🤗 (lifts her)

Baby: (babbles adorably)

Gaius: (sighs) I guess I should be glad you weren't idiotic enough to get into another fight with him or use magic to toss him around.

Merlin: Oh, I was tempted. A lot. (looks at the baby fondly) But, as you said, I can't afford acting like an idiot. I have a lot more to lose if I'm discovered. (his face turns sad) You don't know why we are like this, do you?

Gaius: (shakes his head sadly) No. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't possess that knowledge.

Merlin: (pauses) You know, I used to think I was a monster. For being the way I am. For so long I asked myself, why am I like this? Why would the Gods give me so much magic if I can't use it? What is my purpose in this world that rejects everything I am? Everytime my questions came without answers, I felt like dying.

Gaius: And now?

Merlin: (smiles fondly at the baby again) I'm holding the answers in my arms.

Time skip. In the Dragon's Cave. A deprived sleep Merlin enters.

Kilgharrah: Merlin! Until you finally answered my calls.

Merlin: (looks around for the owner of the voice, exhausted) Where are you?

Kilgharrah: (flies to land in front of Merlin) I'm here! How small you are for such a great-

Merlin: Oh, so you are the one who has been talking in my head in the middle of the night.

Kilgharrah: Indeed. As I was saying-

Merlin: I don't care what you have to say! 😡 You know how many hours I've been able to sleep these past few days?

Kilgharrah: (taken aback) Ehm...

Merlin: 3 HOURS! I can only sleep 3 hours a day, because if the baby is not crying, she is making some stuff fly or break! And if she is not making some stuff fly or break, she needs changing or cleaning! But it's okay because I have my 3 hours of sleep, my precious and sacred 3 hours of sleep. And when I finally, FINALLY find some time for my myself to have my fucking 3 hours of sleep, YOU! (points at Kilgharrah with a savage expression) INTERRUPT MY FUCKING SLEEP! 😤

Kilgharrah: ...

Merlin: So don't ever interrupt my beautiful 3 hours of sleep again or I'll make sure you are with the rest of the dragons very soon. (turns and leaves)

Kilgharrah: (watches as Merlin leaves in shock and then thinks) So there is a magic baby too? Interesting. Though I couldn't sense her (closes his eyes feeling the magic around him) And I still can't sense her. Interesting indeed.

Time skip. Next day. In Merlin's room.

Gaius: (enters Merlin's messy chamber and gathers his clothes) Oi!

Merlin: (wakes up) AH! The baby! (quickly turns to see the crib and relaxes once he sees the baby is fine)

Gaius: Have you seen the state of this room?

Merlin: (rubs his face, tired) It just happens.

Gaius: By magic? Or are you going to tell me it's the baby's fault?

Merlin: Well... (points the baby's crib where everything seems to float or move near it)

Gaius: ... It's the baby's fault.

Merlin: Yes. (yawns) And I haven't had time.

Gaius: Yeah. Well, I'll give you some time to clear it up (warns) without magic. And then I want you to get me some herbs: henbane, wormwood, and sorrel. And deliver this to Morgana. (gives him a small bag with a vial) The poor girl's suffering from nightmares, she can't hardly sleep... (gets a better look at Merlin) Although I think at this rate I'll have to make something for you too. You look terrible. (tosses some more clothes at Merlin and leaves)

Merlin: Mmm, can't hardly sleep? I know the feeling.

Time skip. In Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin: (enters the open door, eyes not really focus on anything, very sleep deprived)

Morgana: (as she walks behind her changing screen, looking just as exhausted as Merlin, but entertained by the conversation) You know, I've been thinking about Arthur. (yawns) I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?

Merlin: (pauses uncertainly before fetching the dress)

Morgana: (begins undressing) I mean, the man's a total jouster. And just because I'm the King's ward, that doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it? (yawns trying to hide it)

Merlin: (yawns too, as quietly as he can, and places the gown on the screen with slow movements, not really paying attention cause he's so SO tired)

Morgana: Well, does it?

Merlin: (manages a high pitched yawn)

Morgana: I mean, If he wants me to go... Oh, Gwen, don't tell me I'm spreading you my yawns?

Merlin: (tries to figure a way out of this situation, but he yawns louder instead)

Morgana: I thought so. Well, as I was saying- (looks over the screen, spots Merlin and covers herself quickly, screaming) AAAAH!

Merlin: (blushes furiously, very embarrased, not knowing what to do or say) Uhm... 😳

Morgana: ... You are not Gwen.

Merlin: No. 😅

Gwen: (enters) I'm here.

Merlin: (turns to her)

Gwen: Are you here to drop off Lady Morgana's medicine?

Merlin: Yes! That's exactly why I'm here. I didn't mean to- (yawns) spy or-

Gwen: (smiles) It's fine. Leave it there. (points to a small table in the entryway) Thank you, although I think you should get some rest.

Merlin: (leaves the vial where Gwen indicated and turns to Morgana, head hung in shame) I'm so sorry. (leaves quickly)

Gwen: (helps Morgana behind the screen)

Morgana: (comes out from behind the screen in a new dress) Who was that?

Gwen: A new servant it seems, my lady. And a really tired one.

Time skip. In the Banquet Hall at night. Court members gather.

Gaius: (stands on one of the walls closest to the servants' door, looking around and grabbing some snacks to put in his pockets for Merlin)

Arthur: (joking around and laughing with his companions)

Morgana: (enters with her breathtaking dress, making every men stare at her)

Arthur: (Cursing internally) Gods have mercy. (goes to her)

Morgana: (smiles at him, inocently) Hi, Arthur.

Arthur: (protective brother mode) What is it that you are wearing?

Morgana: It's called a dress. You should try it some time.

Arthur: You know what I mean. Change it.

Morgana: Why?

Arthur: It's... too revealing!

Morgana: (laughs) Who are you to tell me what to wear?

Arthur: I'm the prince!

Morgana: A prince that got humiliated by a peasant boy yesterday.

Arthur: (Taken aback) Who...who told you that?

Morgana: Everyone is talking about it. And if you keep bothering me, I'll make sure no one forgets it. (passes him)

Arthur: (fumes, but lets her be)

Merlin: (appears through the servants' door, completely in a hurry and looking for Gaius in the crowd)

Gaius: (spots him) Merlin! (approaches) I thought you were with the baby? What happened?

Merlin: (very worried parent mode) She just fell asleep, but she hasn't stopped crying! It's not her diaper or her food or a bump, I checked. Maybe is a cold. Or worst! She could be dying-

Gaius: Calm down! It's probably just colic, it happens frequently to babies that age. I have several vials labeled for that in my cabinet. (checks that the prince hasn't seen Merlin, not wanting Merlin to get into trouble again) Now, leave before-

Celebratory horns signal King Uther's entrance and everyone present falls silent and still as they notice the king passing them. The servants' entrance is blocked by all the maidservants and manservants trying to leave so as not to interrupt the king.

Merlin: (stands still next to Gaius. Unable to leave)

Uther: We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.

Applause. The music begins and Uther and the court take their seats. Merlin takes the opportunity to move through the servants who move to serve again, trying to remain unnoticed. However as he passes and Helen starts singing, Merlin notices the members of the court begin to fall asleep. Merlin covers his ears with his hands as cobwebs begin to form over the enchanted sleepers.

Merlin: (thinking, confused and scared) What... what is happening?

Lady Helen: (stares at Arthur as she walks forward and then pulls a dagger from her sleeve)

Merlin: (thinking) Wait... She wants to kill the idiot! 😱 I get the feeling, but it's wrong! Oh, what do I do, what do I do... (spots the chandelier) That's it! (magically drops the chandelier on her as she raises her arm to throw the dagger)

Court members: (wake and pull the cobwebs off, muttering, confused)

Uther and Arthur: (just as confused, stand up to see Lady Helen, now Mary Collins, lying on the floor)

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, shit. Did I kill her?

Mary Collins: (suddenly raises herself up enough to throw the dagger at Arthur)

Merlin: (slows down time instinctively to reach Arthur and pull him out of harm's way)

The dagger slices into Arthur's chair as Arthur and Merlin fall to the floor.

Mary Collins: (gives her last breath and dies)

Arthur and Merlin: (stand up)

Arthur: (thinking) What the hell is he doing here?

Uther: You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid.

Merlin: Oh, well. I don't really need-

Uther: Don't be so modest. You shall be rewarded.

Merlin: No, honestly, you don't have to, Your Majesty. (tries to leave)

Uther: (stops him by the arm) No, absolutely. This merits something quite special.

Merlin: Well, if you insist. (thinking) I guess some money wouldn't hurt to buy some things for the baby. Just, please hurry, she'll wake up at any moment!

Uther: You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant.

The Court: (applauds)

Arthur: (complains in a whisper) Father!

Uther: (ignores him)

Gaius: (tries to approach, but the number of people standing up and approaching the King and the young men is such that it is impossible for him to even object from his position)

Gwen: (claps with a pitying smile on her face, knowing what awaits Merlin at his new job)

Arthur and Merlin: (look away from each other, completely irritated)

Time skip. In Merlin's room. The baby seems not to have woken up, but everything that is close to her levitates. Merlin, completely exhausted, tries to put everything back in its place, but again some things float or start to roll.

Gaius: (knocks on the door and enters) You seem to be a hero.

Merlin: With a shitty reward. (gives up on putting the things back to place and sighs) Can I resign?

Gaius: No. Once Uther has something in mind it's impossible for anyone to oppose him. His word is law, remember?

Merlin: But... We had not planned for me to stay.

Gaius: And now, it seems you'll be here for an unlimited time. And even if I find a camp right now, it's unlikely I'll be able to get you and the baby accepted. I wouldn't worry too much though. It's a relatively easy job to do. And a short term one too.

Merlin: What do you mean?

Gaius: Servants who are dedicated to the prince's care don't usually last very long. He'll probably sack you soon. All you have to do is avoid getting into trouble with the prince and serve him-

Merlin: (worried) Oh no! I can't do that!

Gaius: Be with the prince? It's just following him around all day… (realises) oh, the baby.

Merlin: (sighs) I can't leave her alone, but I can't have her with me all the time either. Or can I?

Gaius: It's been a long time since anyone had a baby in the castle. And almost all the children are already teenagers of the servants or maids. Don't worry, I'll help you with her. (hands Merlin a book wrapped in a cloth) This book was given to me when I was your age, but I have a feeling it will be of more use to you than it was to me.

Merlin: (opens it and looks inside) This is a book of magic! I thought the king had destroyed everything related to magic.

Gaius: He kept a dragon alive, a magic book that pretends to be an herbalist's book won't kill anyone. Not if you are careful that is. Keep it hidden and then take it with you when you go with the baby to the druid camp.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you, Gaius. I will study every word.

Guard: (knocks from outside, pretending not to notice the baby bottles in the room) Merlin, Prince Arthur needs you immediately.

Gaius: Well, you'd better find out what he wants.

BASED ON THIS PROMPT >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

...

So Arthur and Merlin had an even rockier start this time. How do you think this will affect their relationship?

Tagging @chaosofbelievers , @blackgigglypuff , @stressed-but-chill , @nocheaseforyougoodsir , @thedragonlies , @evedaser , @lolazoel , @sammythetoaster , @caraspud , @g00pygunkyguy , @bertoliosis35-blog , @purpuraffe , @lordemryspendragon , @herstarlight , @justaz , @myalchemicalgnomace , @haunted-glassesgurl , @exmintha , @dumbdemjin , @a-line-drawn , @itsjustmeandmyanxiety , @beebsnas , @rem-the-moth , @tmarauder101

[wendichester]

I'm gonna be a little bit greedy because I loved the first one. 😁

I can't think of a particular situation, but can you just give me your best, heart-wrenching dean x reader angst? I know you'll do great cuz you write Dean so well.

Thanks love your stuff so much!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ghost of you,

summary. you're gone and dean doesn't know how to cope

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; super angsty!

wordcount. 499

notes. first, thank you for the leap of faith!!! i hope this manages to bring a tiny tear to your eyes ehe 🥺

Dean Winchester is good at losing people.

He’s been doing it his whole life.

His mom. His dad. Jo. Ellen. Bobby. Cas.

And now you.

You, who was supposed to be the exception. The one person he swore he wouldn’t lose, the one person he couldn’t lose, because if he did—

If he did, there’d be nothing left of him.

But life doesn’t care about what Dean Winchester swears.

It takes anyway.

He doesn’t remember much about the hunt.

He remembers blood. Your blood.

Pooling beneath you, warm and red and so much, spilling through his fingers as he pressed down, as he begged—

"Stay with me, sweetheart, c’mon, please—”

You were shaking. Your lips were turning pale. But you still managed to smile, soft and sad.

“Dean,” you whispered, and he almost screamed, because it sounded too much like goodbye.

But you died before he could make you promise it wasn’t.

The worst part isn’t the funeral. It isn’t the silence, the emptiness, the quiet ache of absence in every part of his life.

It’s the almosts.

The moments where he forgets.

Like when he’s driving, and he sees something stupid on the side of the road and thinks, She’s gonna love this, only to remember—

You’re gone.

Or when he wakes up after a hunt, body sore, reaching for you without thinking—

Only to find the other side of the bed cold.

Or when he hears someone laughing, and for half a second, his heart lifts, convinced it’s you—

Only for the world to gut him again.

You haunt him more than any ghost ever could.

Sam worries.

Dean knows he does. He sees it in the way his brother watches him, cautious and quiet, waiting for the day Dean breaks.

But there’s nothing to break.

One night, Dean dreams of you.

Not in the way he usually does—not memories, not shadows, not echoes of the past.

You’re there.

Standing in the bunker’s kitchen, barefoot and beautiful, wearing one of his old shirts, looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.

“Hey, baby,” you say, soft and sweet, like nothing’s changed.

Dean can’t breathe.

He rushes toward you, grabs your face, touches your skin like he’s trying to memorize the way it feels before you disappear again.

You don’t disappear.

You lean into him, warm and real, fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m here.”

Dean swallows hard. His vision blurs.

“This isn’t real,” he whispers.

You smile. “No.”

And then, quieter—

“But I wish it was.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t do this without you.”

You kiss him. Soft and slow and final.

“Yes, you can.”

When he wakes up, there’s an ache so deep inside him that he doesn’t know how he’s still breathing.

But he does.

Because that’s all he can do.

Because no matter how much he loves you—

No matter how much he misses you—

Ghosts don’t come back.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[hyukalyptus]

covered in me — sub!kai x femdomme!reader

cw. it's kinda implied they're both idols that can't be "public," lots of marking with lipstick, pet names (love, baby, good boy), reader wears a dress, body writing (m. receiving), hair pulling, oral (m. and f. receiving), protected penetration, sex toys, light fem domme vibes, nipple play, chubby reader implied. note. i actually really love this one, guys. and i think you will too! this is for @silvergyus' valentine's day event! enjoy and please let me know what you think <3 wc. 4.3k

“I saw you staring at me all night,” Kai whispers in your ear. Have you ever seen anyone look as sexy as he does right now? The way his chest presses against your back and traps you against the bathroom’s vanity feels better than a warm blanket that’s been pulled straight from the dryer. And you find yourself doing it again: staring at him, this time through the mirror while his hands glide from your shoulders and past your waist, drawing circles over your hips with his fingertips. 

Everything about him was—and still is—irresistible tonight. His charcoal grey suit. The wash of deep peach surrounding his eyes with the cutest rose blush on his cheeks. You were dying to run your fingers through his fluffy black hair that’s messy now that it’s the end of the day. But it was just as mesmerizing when it was perfectly styled at the beginning of the night. 

“I can’t stand ignoring you when you’re a few feet away, especially on Valentine’s Day…” You turn around in his arms, draping yours over his shoulders. “I want to scream to the world how in love I am with you,” you say, punctuating the sentence with a kiss. “How much you love me.” Kiss. Sighing, you lean closer to his neck, letting his cologne drift into your nostrils. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” Kiss. And at that, his hands are right where they belong, resting against the swell of your ass.

“I am yours, huh?” He chuckles.

“Yep,” you say matter-of-factly, but a pout forms on your lips. “But nobody knows,” you grumble. “I can’t do any of the things I wanna do to you…” 

“Like what?”

“Like,” you start, grazing your hands over his chest. “Run my fingers through your hair.” He hums at the feeling of your nails dragging across his scalp. “Hug you. Kiss you.” Then you do. When you pull away, the sight of your oxblood lipstick smudged against his lips makes your stomach do backflips. “Every eye in the room was on you. And I can tell what they want. They look at you and want you for their own,” you say. His groan sends shivers down your spine. “But you’re not theirs, are you?”

“Nuh-uh,” he says smugly. 

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you. I’m the only one who gets to…” you trail off, thinking of the millions of ways you make him feel good or the millions of ways he makes your toes curl. “You know what I really want?” A devastating smirk on his lips gives you permission to go further. You loosen his tie and pull it through his collar, letting it fall to the floor. With slow fingers, you unbutton his shirt, sliding your hands beneath the fabric, pushing it past his shoulders. The crisp white t-shirt beneath feels like a secret, like uncovering something softer, something just for you— shedding the skin of his public persona to reveal your angel in white. 

“What I really want…” you sigh. “I wanna cover you in hickeys and scratches and bite marks. I want to look at your body and see it covered in me knowing I did that to you because you are mine, and I can do what I want to things that belong to me,” you say. You move closer to him with every breath. “I want people to look at you and know you’re mine, that you’re so mine, they don’t stand a chance with you.” 

Then you catch his lips with yours, moving over them with a fire only he could ignite. He is everything to you right now—the air you breathe, the taste on your tongue, the strength you need while he’s making your knees this weak. But most of all, he’s yours. 

“But since I can’t cover you in hickeys and love bites…” you grin evilly, eyeing his smudged lips. “I suppose my lipstick will have to do.” You end that sentence with the softest kitten lick across his bottom lip. “It looks so pretty on you anyway.” 

Guiding him toward the bed, you push him gently and he lets his body fall to the mattress, resting his hands behind his head, like he’s saying do whatever you want to me. And there’s an overwhelming sense of trust that comes with it. You straddle him, tugging at the hem of his white t-shirt, gently kissing right above the waistband of his pants. Disappointed at the lack of lipstick left behind, you stand, digging through your purse. 

As you stride back to bed, you uncap your lipstick, placing it in one of his hands while the other squeezes the crease above your thigh. Your mouth falls open into a plush oval. He sits up, so close to your chest, and slowly drags the lipstick across your lips, painting them a red darker than your cabernet from earlier. Replacing the cap, he stores it for safekeeping atop the bedside table. 

Tugging his t-shirt again, you press your lips to his lower tummy before you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the imprint of your perfectly-shaped lips on his skin. Not even giving him the privilege of eye contact, you order him to take off his shirt and he obliges, his chest heaving needing more from you.

Humming against his stomach while you skate your nose across his skin, you ask, “Where else should I leave my mark?” He turns his head to the side, silently asking for neck kisses, unable to form a coherent sentence. You smile and press soft kisses against his skin, leaving behind lipstick marks rivaling a trail of love bites. 

Biting his earlobe between your top teeth and bottom lip, you tug, earning a gasp. You ask, “Are you mine, baby? Hm?” He nods. “Say it.”

“I’m yours—” the way his name falls from your lips sounds so desperate your head reels. “Only yours.”

“Right. Only mine,” you say. “In fact…” you trail off, reaching for your lipstick once again, opening it with a pop. Pressing your hand to his chest to keep him from moving, you twist the lipstick up and write your name in big letters across his chest, claiming him as yours. Glancing down at the writing, his fingertips brush over the letters, smudging it barely.

“Feels good to be yours,” he says. It isn’t playful, it isn’t indulgent, not submissive. It’s deeper. You trace over his collarbone with your thumb. 

“Yeah?”  

His eyes flick up to yours and without hesitation, he replies, “Yeah.”  

Maybe you should tease him for how soft he sounds, for how serious this just got, but you don’t. Instead, you press a kiss right over your name, feeling the way his heart hammers against your lips. It makes the heat rush through your body again. 

Back to the matter at hand, you suppose. You can get to the mushy gushy love confessions afterward when you’re laying on his chest all warm and cozy after an incredible orgasm. Trailing delicate kisses down his chest and tummy, you pause to skate your lips across the waistband of those sexy-as-fuck suit pants—a maddening barrier keeping you from everything you want. Your lipstick print is such a cute accessory to his dainty happy trail you’d so wish he’d let grow out. That’s his choice, you remind yourself. But that doesn’t mean you can’t grumble about it. And there’s no ignoring his hardening cock behind those thin layers of fabric. 

He whispers…something. You’re not quite sure and you’re not so sure he knows what he said either. A jumbled, pathetic whimper somewhere between love, please, fuck, and your name. You look up at him with the slyest smirk and nod. 

After tossing his dress pants to the side, all he’s left in are his boxers along with some red letters and splotches of lipstick. That last stitch of clothing doesn’t last long. While he takes those off, you’re suddenly aware of how many clothes you’re wearing. How could you have forgotten to get naked? And it’s like he read your mind. Standing up, he holds out his hand, gesturing for you to stand. He motions for you to turn around for him, letting his hands sweep all over your curves. His thumbs rub your tense shoulders, but only for a few seconds before finding their way to the zipper on the back of your dress. Tugging it down slowly, he lets it fall to the floor in a pool of fabric at your feet. 

Then you guide him to lay on his back again, straddling his thighs and kissing his pelvis, dragging your fingers everywhere except where he needs it most. Precum beads at his tip, crying for something to be wrapped around it. Anything—a hand, a mouth, a cunt, anything at all. 

Finally grasping his cock with your fingers, you gently tap your face with him, leaving kisses up and down his shaft. “This is mine too, right?” You ask. 

“Of course,” he breathes. Smug and satisfied, you pop the cap off your lipstick again and write mine right at the base of his cock where hair would be if he didn’t shave it yesterday. Swirling around his tip with your thumb, you use your other hand to sloppily freshen up your lipstick. Looking up through your eyelashes, you drag the tip of your tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, finally sinking down on him, leaving a ring of lipstick at the base. Sloppy head movements, licks, sucks, slurps, simply obscene dick sucking leaves the messiest lipsticks marks that fade as you carry on. 

Your rhythm falters, not to tease, no, but because you’re too caught up in it. The weight of him on your tongue, the way his cock twitches with every sloppy drag of your lips, heat pooling between your legs. Your moan vibrates through his body, forcing his hips to jerk involuntarily.

Slow down, you tell yourself. But you can’t even listen to your own stupid advice. Your fingers dig into his muscular thighs, taking him deeper and messier, making you dizzier and dizzier. You don’t think you can go much longer without needing something more from him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Whines spill from both of your lips, moaning and whimpering from this alone. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, voice wrecked, hands hovering—like he wants to touch, to yank you by your arms and pin you down to fuck you, but wouldn’t dare interrupt this.

You release him with a pop, making him shudder from the loss. There’s evidence of you all over him—remnants of oxblood all over his pelvis and down his cock, and in the writing on his chest. You pepper his neck and shoulders with love and kisses before sitting up to drag your wet pussy over his cock, teasing him even more, which he didn’t think was possible. He whispers your name, begging…begging to let him inside.

Desperate as ever, he throws his head back, back arching, hands squeezing harshly where your thighs meet your ass. “Please…” he trails off, dragging his hands up and down your thick legs, never getting enough of the feeling of your body. “Need you so bad.”

“Oh?” You tease. He nods. “Just a little longer, baby—” you gasp, feeling the head of his cock brushing your clit as you grind against him. How long are you gonna last like this? You want to drag it out, to tease him, perhaps see how long it takes before tears stream down his face but you don’t think you’d last that long yourself. You drag your teeth across his stomach, playing with the thought of actually biting him this time and leaving a longer term mark. 

You let yourself give in just a tad, biting him as gently as possible and he gasps at the simple thought of a real mark—your teeth imprinted on his skin for days. And you sigh, dropping your forehead to his body, desperate to leave a real one. But you can’t.

“I know, love, I know,” he says, running a thumb across your brow bone. “But look,” he starts, lifting your face by your chin. “Look at me,” he repeats. “This is all you.” And fuck, your thoughts sound like a broken record. The lipstick streaked across his skin claims him just as much as any other mark would. “All yours, remember?” Encouraging you to meet him again, he catches your lips with his, desperately, messily, aggressively kissing you over and over and over. 

And you’ve finally had enough. Reaching into the bedside table drawer, you search for a condom, all without ever leaving his body. It’s almost pavlovian how he reacts to the sight of it. He snatches it out of your fingers to rip it open with his teeth, spitting the corner of it out of his mouth. But he catches the glint in your eye and remembers just how much you love watching him do this. 

While you scoot down his thighs to give him access to himself, he cradles the back of your head, forcing you to watch him roll the condom down his cock. Eyes glazing over, you don’t think you’ve ever been more jealous of a hand. You can’t wait any longer. Reaching between you to guide him inside you, his tip teases your entrance before you clench around almost nothing. 

The first few inches alone are enough to send you over the edge. But when his hands push you lower, your legs tremble as much as your breaths. Sitting down fully, letting him fill you as much as possible, you both let out a simultaneous sigh. To adjust to him, you rock your hips back and forth and he throws his head back, gritting his teeth at the sheer amount of friction, the aching need. 

Your name plastered across his chest heaves up and down. “Fuck…” he whispers, like he can’t control his words. His hips roll and hit a spot inside you making your head reel. You can’t help but chuckle at the intensity of how you’re feeling. Then a second roll turns that chuckle into a moan. You bend to catch his lips with yours again, furiously making out before tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. And something snaps. 

You sit up quickly, bouncing on his cock as fast as your body will let you. Everything is charged with electricity, buzzes of pleasure running throughout your whole body. He’s gone quiet, but you know you’re making him feel good from the sheer amount of squirming. 

“Should I stop?” You ask. Horror falls over his face.

“N-no, why?” 

“I can’t hear you,” you say. He’s always been a little shy but you love hearing him—his moans, sighs, whimpers, everything is pure magic. He shakes his head, hands gripping your hips to prove you shouldn’t stop. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits, face flushed, eyes glazed, barely able to get that sentence out. You slow down just enough to tease, rolling your hips in a way that makes him gasp. 

“Just let me hear you.” Usually, all he needs is a little nudge. Finally, a strangled noise escapes his throat. You smile, pleased, and give him exactly what he needs—more, faster, deeper—until his restraint unravels completely. And when he finally breaks, when he moans loud and unabashed, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

Dropping your head back, you’re relieved at the break of the silence in the room. Sometimes you think he could make you come just from the noises he makes. Even if you’re doing all the physical work, he’s unknowingly doing the mental work for you. You lose yourself in his noises, in his touches—how he squeezes your tits clumsily, reaching for your hand to kiss your fingers. 

But when you almost double over from the pleasure, you catch yourself with your palms against his chest. At this angle, he ruts his hips up into you and he feels so goddamn good you think you may cry. Your shoulders scrunching at the pleasure of it all, you shudder and he finally gets the hint. 

“You wanna switch, love?” Before you can answer, he’s already helping you flip over to rest comfortably on your back. He stays soft, needy, watching you from above, entranced by the way you move beneath him, tits bouncing, face contouring, skin rippling with his thrusts.

Shoving himself inside you again, your eyes roll back, your body responding to his movements. You’re awestruck by the remnants of your name on his chest and mine on his pelvis but something’s missing now. While he’s still deep inside you, thrusting steadily, you reach for the lipstick and write boy on his right thigh, toy on his left, letting you read it perfectly from where you lay. 

Once you’ve discarded the lipstick to your bedside table, he grabs your wrist—not to stop you, but to hold it. His fingers tremble around yours as he slows his thrusts, his breath shaky as he looks down at the fresh words on his legs.  

“You okay?” you ask, rubbing soothing swipes over his thighs. 

He nods quickly, then pauses, swallowing hard. “I—I don’t know what to do with myself,” he admits, voice small, wrecked. Always looking to you, trusting you in such a  vulnerable state. 

You cup his face. “You don’t have to do anything,” you murmur. “Just feel me.”  

He exhales, like that was all he needed to hear, and then he melts. His forehead drops to your shoulder, arms wrapping around you as he starts moving again, slow, unsteady, like he’s letting himself fall apart one careful thrust at a time.  

You hold him through it, whispering soft praises in his ear, feeling the way his body shivers against yours. And when he finally moans again—needy, helpless, completely lost in you—it’s addicting.

“You’re being such a good boy,” you say. He whimpers again. “You’re my good boy, hm?” He nods, his forehead digging deeper into your neck, so close to losing control. And you debate with yourself for a moment—should you force him to make you come first? Or should you let him come first since he’s being so good? “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” he breathes. He’s always made sure you got off first but seeing him like this is too good. You wouldn’t dare stop this now. He’s got fingers for a reason. And a drawer full of toys when necessary. “Tell me.” You hum questioningly. He whines as if saying one more word would be too much for him to handle. But he finally musters up the strength. “Tell me I’m your good boy.” 

“Let me see you first.” He hesitantly sits up, leaving the warmth of your body. You’ll never get tired of this view. Broad shoulders and chest riddled with traces of you, your name still etched across his skin. It’s not the faintest of the four words yet, though. Mine written across his pelvis has withered down to a faint pink blotch. And boy toy is still fresh as blood. His fluffy hair barely sticks to his forehead, cheeks pink and puffy, hands trembling. His perfect pout is deliciously swollen. “Look at you…” you say, running your hands all over him. “You’re my good boy.” He smiles, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. “Oh, you’re such a good boy—my good boy.” 

You reward him with so many sweet praises he doesn’t need to ask permission to come first—he knows. His brows knit together, and the sight alone sends a flutter through you. He’s unraveling, his words tumbling out in a mess of swears and your name, his hips stuttering as he loses control. You keep whispering to him, guiding him through it, your voice steady as he falls apart. A final shuddering thrust, a deep, satisfied sigh, and then—stillness. The warmth of it settles over both of you, leaving nothing but the sound of his heavy breaths and the way he feels inside you. 

Catching himself on his elbows as he falls forward, he peppers your face with kisses, humming sweet satisfied sounds against your skin. Then he kisses your lips as deep as he can, which isn’t much in his post-sex haze, but it’s perfect. 

Everything takes forever while you wait for him to come back to make you come—him carefully tugging his condom off, tying it in a knot, not bothering to walk the ten steps to the bathroom to throw it away before discarding it onto the floor somewhere, looking for your favorite toy in your bedside table before finding his way back on top of you. Everything is agony when you’re this needy. 

But his tongue and lips all over your neck are so nice, goosebumps prickle your skin despite the heat radiating off you. When he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth, you’re really in trouble. He’s barely doing anything and he’s already making you moan. You didn’t think you could get any wetter than when he was literally inside of you minutes ago. But you were wrong. 

“Thank you,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with your pussy lips. You hum in question. “You heard me. God, you’re perfect.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re perfect too,” you say light-heartedly. “Now make me come.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says playfully, although there’s an undeniable hint of submissiveness to it. 

But he doesn’t start off too quick, no. He trails kisses down your neck, making sure he shows your nipples lots of love, making them slick and wet and cold against the air. It feels utterly dirty how covered in his spit they are—his own filthy version of writing his name on your chest, claiming you as his. And he always, always shows extra love to your tummy. Kisses and nips and squeezes. 

When he reaches your pussy, he spreads your lips, admiring how wet and glistening and delicious it looks. Hell, it felt amazing no less than five minutes ago, you’ll undoubtedly taste just as good, like you always do. He’ll never tire of your taste. And he doesn’t wait. 

Licking a stripe up your pussy, he kisses your clit gently before flicking the pointed tip of his tongue over it. Over and over and over again. Your back arches. This arguably isn’t even the best part and he already has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

Holding your favorite toy in one hand, he teases your entrance for just a second, letting your wetness get it slick and smooth before he breaches you completely. Sure, he could use his fingers, but honestly, he’s skillful with this toy. 

He thrusts it in and out of your wet pussy, perfectly angling it to reach your favorite spot, your hips rolling involuntarily. Meanwhile, he hasn’t let up with his tongue on your clit. And everything feels so, so incredible, like he’s telling your body exactly how to feel and it’s obeying. And he used the exact right words, even if left unspoken. 

Your body sparks like a match, embers smoldering in every nook and cranny. Your bones burn like firewood, slow and steady, but your muscles churn like molten lava, wild and unpredictable. Kai lit your skin ablaze, and now the fire spreads, consuming everything in its path. You don’t fight it. You let it take you and melt you down to nothing but heat, want, and him.

It’s building, a white hot searing scorch until you’re about to erupt. “Kai—” you murmur, suddenly realizing neither of you have spoken for the last ten minutes. Of course, his mouth has been preoccupied and you’ve been simply laying there, enjoying yourself while he makes you feel good. 

He knows you’re close. He can feel it. Just a few more whispers of his name, a handful of breathless swears, your nails dragging across his scalp, likely leaving a hidden mark—and then you’re there.

Your orgasm crashes over you, flames igniting every nerve in your body. Hot waves of pleasure rush all over you as you arch off the mattress, his big hand holding you in place, ensuring you get every ounce of pleasure out of this orgasm as possible. And it’s incredible—his tongue and lips all over your pussy, the way he’s using your toy inside you, his hands on you, his fluffy hair entangled in your fingers. 

You feel him everywhere—in your fingertips, in your toes, in your chest and heart. Everything is overtaken by him and how he’s making you feel. 

When your vision finally clears up, you sigh, looking down at Kai smirking up at you. You shudder as he pulls out the toy, but you don’t feel empty. You never could feel that way around him. He doesn't move right away. Instead, he stays between your thighs, pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs, too in love with your body to move away. 

Then he finally crawls up your body, brushes your eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, and kisses the tip of your nose. "You okay?" he murmurs. You nod, still catching your breath, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips ghost over your temple and cheek, before finally meeting your mouth in a slow, unhurried kiss.  

As he pulls back, his gaze roams over you, softer now, taking a mental picture to memorialize this moment, adding it to the hundreds of scrapbooks in his mind. 

“I love seeing you like that,” you admit with a whisper. Warmth blooms in your chest, different from before—deeper, more consuming. You exhale a quiet laugh, carding your fingers through his hair. “All to myself,” you murmur.

He hums in response, melting at your touch as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. His arms tighten around you, his body heavy and warm as he holds you close, never wanting to let go. “And who else would I belong to?” he asks, voice muffled against your skin.

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Absolutely no one.”

[burningembers91]

Crawl to Me - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare Gunpowder and Lace Like a Dog Three Little Words The Baby Shower

Warning: This fic will deal with conversations about pregnancy

Synopsis: You can tell the Salesman is hiding something from you, and you know just how to make him spill his secrets. When he finally tells you what's on his mind, it changes the course of your relationship

A/N: I don't know who I become when I write about this man... I just become absolutely feral

He was on his knees for you, the wooden floorboards of your bedroom digging into the cartilage of his kneecaps. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, the silk blindfold covering his eyes and blocking his view of the clock on your bedside table. Every inch of his body ached, an exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain. His leaking cock stood to attention, his shaft twitching as he listened to you walk leisurely across the floor. 

You were teasing him, taking him to the very precipice of insanity and he loved it. Every so often, your fingers would trail gently across the skin of shoulders as you walked by, the gentle caress eliciting a wanton moan from his lips. He craved your touch, needed it more than oxygen, and he was grateful for anything you gave him. 

“Tell me you want me,” you whispered, crouching down so you were level his with his ear. Your breath tickled the sensitive skin of his neck, every hair standing on end as he moaned. 

“I want you,” he growled, his throbbing cock almost painful as he silently begged for you touch him. 

“Tell me you need me,” you breathed, your hand entwining roughly in his hair as you pulled his head back. 

“I need you,” he pleaded, his voice uncharacteristically whiny. “Oh god, please. I need you.” 

You’d been at this for hours, teasing him, coaxing him to the brink of orgasm before snatching his pleasure away in your beautifully manicured hands. His body was crying out for release, his pre-cum coating his shaft as he sat crouched on the floor like an obedient mutt. You could see he was desperate, could tell by the way he whimpered for you that he needed a release. But you could also tell he was hiding something from you; you were able to read your man like a book. Ever since the baby shower he’d been so needy, yet so withdrawn. He’d cling to you, his tall, muscular frame draped across yours, but he couldn’t never tell you what was on his mind. He constantly wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself inside you and would beg you to let him cum. He seemed almost grateful when you said yes, his moans guttural as he painted your insides. You’d always let him cum inside you, had enjoyed the way he claimed you with his very essence, but at the moment, finishing inside of you was almost like a kink to him. 

You watched his body shudder with desire, his abs twitching with the force of staying upright for so long. Perching on the edge of the bed, you watched him, savouring the breathy little whimpers he emitted. 

“Crawl to me,” you finally instructed, when you were confident you’d punished him enough. He obeyed your order, his hands outstretched as he blindly searched for you. When he finally reached you, when his fingers brushed the soft skin of your calves, his lips peppered desperate kisses up your legs, praising you as he made his way up your body. 

“Take off the blindfold,” you whispered, wanting to see the desire in his eyes. Pulling the silk fabric from his face, he moaned at the sight before him. You lay reclined on the bed, your legs spread, arousal dripping from your core. 

“Lick it up,” you told him, smiling slyly as he obeyed. His tongue worked feverishly against you, moaning into your slick folds as he lapped up your wetness. You rewarded him with your moans, your breathy gasps like music to his ears. When you came for him, the noise was heavenly, your moans so loud and unabashed as you held his head against your center, thrusting your hips against his tongue. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” You asked him, watching his cock tremble with need. He was still on his knees for you, his head nodding so furiously his hair flopped in front of his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Tell me what you’ve been hiding from me,” you whispered sweetly, “and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He froze to the spot, looking up at you from his position on the floor. You knew him so well, could read him like a book and he’d been a fool to think he could ever hide something from you. Had he been saner, he might have resisted more, but you had the unwavering ability to drive him to the brink of insanity. 

“I want you to have my baby,” he pleaded, groaning as the words left him, a weight lifted from his shoulder. 

You sat there in silence, staring down at him. You knew he had very little patience for anyone but you, you understood his incapacity to feel anything for anyone but you. You wondered how much he’d thought this over, whether he thought he’d be capable of loving the tiny life you’d create. It was like he could read your mind, the words tumbling out of his mouth as he begged you to let him get you pregnant. 

“Please, I want this so badly. I want a family with you, I want a baby with you. I know I would love them, because they’d be part of you.”

You’d always wanted a family, but you’d put the idea to the back of your mind when you fell for your sadistic salesman. And yet here he was, on his knees, begging you for a baby. In one single moment, all of your dreams came true. 

“Ok,” you smiled, “let’s have a baby.”

The way he fucked you was almost feral, his strong arms pinning you against the mattress as he thrust into you. Tears pricked at his eyes as he came, his cock remaining buried in your tight walls long after he’d finished, desperate to make sure you’d taken every last drop of him. 

That night you talked through how a family would look, how the addition of a baby would change your life. He’d already picked out the room he wanted to convert into a nursery, had already been secretly looking at cribs once you’d fallen asleep. Any doubt you had about him loving your baby vanished as soon as he showed you the plans he’d been making, the research he’d done into the best diapers, buggies and changing tables. 

Yes, your grey suited salesman was unpredictable and wild. But you knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you and the life you were going to create.

[urno1luv]

giselle coming back from practice stressed and taking it out on reader + consensual somno?😋 i luv ur writing🫶🫶

cw: not really somnophilia bc reader wakes up half way through, fingering

The clock reads 2:14 AM when Giselle finally comes home.

She’s quiet — dropping her bag by the door, running a hand through her messy hair.

You’re asleep — soft, warm breaths rising and falling beneath the covers — completely unaware of how bad her day was. Her eyes linger on you for a second.

You always look so pretty when you're sleeping — tucked up all cozy, lips slightly parted, legs curled up under the sheets like you’re waiting for her to come ruin you. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

You have no idea how badly she needs you right now.

She moves without thinking — slipping out of her clothes, the room dim and heavy with silence. The mattress dips beneath her weight as she crawls in behind you, warm hands sliding beneath your shirt, tracing slow circles along your bare waist.

You stir faintly — but you don’t wake.

Perfect.

Her fingers trail lower — down between your thighs, where you're soft and warm and already wet without even knowing she's there. She smirks against your neck.

"My pretty little baby... always ready for me, huh?"

You let out the faintest whimper in your sleep, hips twitching under her touch — and that’s when something snaps inside her. All that stress — all that frustration — it’s been building all day, weighing heavy on her chest.

But now you're here — soft and helpless in Giselle's arms — and suddenly the only thing she can think about is taking it all out on you. Her good girl.

Her little stress relief.

Her toy.

Her hand slides into your panties — two fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you slow and lazy. "You have no idea what you're about to wake up to, baby..." she whispers. You whimper softly, shifting in your sleep — but she just smirks, pressing her fingers deeper, feeling how easily you open up for her.

"So fucking wet..."

Her voice is low, rough against your ear — half praise, half punishment. "Such a needy little thing... even when you're sleeping, you're begging for me."

She loves how vulnerable you are like this — how easily she could wreck you without you even knowing.

But she wants you awake for this.

Giselle wants to see your pretty little eyes blink open — wide and confused — right before she ruins you. So she circles your clit just a little faster, fingers pressing deep — until your body jolts beneath her, a soft little gasp falling from your lips.

"There she is..." she purrs.

You blink groggily — hips twitching into her hand — but she doesn't slow down. "Shh, baby... don't fight it."

Her free hand slides up to wrap around your throat — not squeezing, just holding — keeping you exactly where she wants you. "You wanna be a good girl for me, huh?"

You're still half-asleep, mind hazy — but the way you whimper and grind against her fingers tells her everything she needs to know.

Her good girl always wants to please.

Even in your sleep.

"You don't have to do anything, baby... just lay there and take it."

Her fingers fuck into you deeper — slow, deliberate strokes — dragging against that perfect little spot that makes your thighs tremble.

"That's it..." she whispers, voice rough in your ear. "Let me use you."

You moan softly, hips rolling into her hand — but she just tightens her grip around your throat, pinning you down.

"Shh... don't make me gag you, baby."

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet — but the way she's fucking you, slow and deep and lazy, has you melting in her arms, all soft little whimpers and shaky breaths.

"You like being used, don't you?" she growls, pressing her fingers harder against your clit.

You nod weakly, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Giselle's broken little plaything.

"You belong to me, baby." Her teeth graze your jaw, breath hot against your ear.

"You're mine."

You come with a muffled little sob — legs shaking, slick coating her fingers — but she doesn't stop. Not yet.

Her fingers keep moving — slower now, teasing — dragging out every last wave of pleasure until you're squirming in her arms, overstimulated and whimpering. "You can give me another one, baby."

Her hand tightens just a little around your throat — not enough to hurt, just enough to own you.

"You don't get to sleep until I'm finished with you."

[aphroditeinthesea]

ok ur jason smut is SO GOOD- but could u mayhe write some where hes more shy? Like this man is a gentleman- and he’s got like no experience- idk smth about shy jason just- askfneje

“ follow the sparks, i’ll drive ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

i read this and my brain just said “sub jason sub jason sub jason” so

⚠️ unprotected p in v

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

you hastily tugged his shirt off of his skin, throwing it who knows where. your lips traveled from his own to his neck to his chest, lingering kisses all over his skin. there was nothing that could have filled you with more joy than his reactions.

every time you sucked on certain spots, the gasps he let out were heavenly. in fact, you were sure that there was no greater reward than seeing your sweet boy, who spent most of his time working and expected to be a leader, just completely submit.

when you finally lowered yourself completely down from where you straddled him, you were met with something.

he gasped, quickly opening his eyes, “sorry, oh my gods, sorry.”

“oh my gods, it’s okay, baby,” you responded, sitting up. you softly dragged your nails across his abs, “it’s a good actually,” you added, grinding your hips down.

his breath hitched, “yeah?”

you danced your fingertips down his torso to the button of his jeans, “yeah.”

you undid the button, following by unzipping the pants as well.

he suddenly gripped your thighs, sitting up, “let me take this off, please?” he asked, moving his hands to your tank top.

“yes, you may,” you answered, stretching your arms up to let him easily slide the pink tank top off of you. as he took the fabric in his hands, he simply looked at you as if you were a piece of art.

“here,” you spoke as you hovered up, you unbuttoned your own shorts, sliding them down with your panties following. you took your shirt out of his hands, then threw it on the ground, along with the rest of the discarded clothes, “okay, baby, lay back down.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, now just lay down,” you gently pushed against his chest to get him to move back. when he complied, you began to grab the waist band of his boxers, moving them downwards. his hard dick sprung out in front of you, already leaking with precum.

you ran your hand up and down, watching his face for his reactions. he groaned softly, his hips bucking up into your hand.

you just smiled before leaning up on your knees, slowly lowering yourself onto him. his noises were delicious. the soft gasps and whines as you took in all of him.

you were holding your breath, hesitating to move while he twitched inside of your walls.

“does that feel good, baby?” you questioned, moving up slightly.

“Yeah, so good,” he muttered. when you fully sat back up and quickly bounced back down, you let out a moan that perfectly intertwined with his.

as you gained a rhythm, the two of you made a harmony of sounds that were practically pornographic. you continued on, speeding up earning a “fuck,” from him as he whimpered.

“you feel so good, jase,” you moaned. he opened his eyes, only to be caught by the view of your bouncing tits.

with every bounce on his dick, your chest moved in sync, “oh, gods,” he groaned, “i’m close, baby.”

“can you hold on?” you deeply breathed out, “for me?”

“of course,” he mumbled. he gripped onto the blanket, holding onto every muscle in his body to make sure he didn’t release. if there was anything this boy could do, it was follow orders.

although, your high pitched moans didn’t help his case. you reached forward to latch yourself by holding him by his ribs.

he could tell you were aiming for your high by the way you angled yourself and let out louder moans of his name.

“cum,” you spoke. and of course, he did. you rode out your high, feeling his soft cum fill you up.

finally, you sighed, pulling yourself off of him. you laid down beside him to rest your head on his shoulder. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around you to pull you as close to him as possible.

“are you okay?” he whispered against you hair.

you nodded, looking up at him, “i’m perfect.” you pressed kisses across his face, “you were amazing, sweet boy.”

he embarrassedly smiled, “so were your, angel.” he kissed your forehead over and over as if to emphasize his point. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their s/o getting fired & doubting herself

Request: Hello celeste!!!!! Can I get an ot13 reaction where their wife telling them that they got fired from their workplace and doubting themselves for not being a better wife to them ??? Also I hope you have a better day ahead ♡

- ⭐️ anon

Immediately Gets Defensive & Angry On Your Behalf ("WHO DO I NEED TO FIGHT??" Protects you first, comforts you after.) — Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seungkwan

“EXCUSE ME?? THEY FIRED YOU??” Their temper is immediately flaring up. Your boss is now Enemy #1.

Seungcheol: Already planning to call a lawyer. “That’s it. We’re taking legal action.” (Even if there’s no reason to, he just needs to do something.)

Jeonghan: Sarcastic and pissed af. “They really fired the BEST worker they had? Their loss, not yours, love.”

Mingyu: Hugs you instantly. “Are you okay?? No, don’t cry, baby, please—” he’s so worried but also furious on your behalf.

Seungkwan: Losing his mind. “TELL ME WHICH SUPERVISOR, I’M WRITING A SCATHING REVIEW.” Also pep talks you for two hours straight.

They REFUSE to let you blame yourself.

Immediately Holds You & Comforts You ("Baby, no, please don't say that about yourself." More focused on you than the job.) — Joshua, DK, Woozi, Vernon

Joshua: This man is SO SOFT. “Sweetheart, you are the most amazing wife. This job doesn’t deserve you.” Gives you the longest hug.

Woozi: Heart breaks in half. “You think you’re not good enough?? Love, I don’t care about the job, I care about YOU.” Softly kisses your forehead.

Dokyeom: TEARY-EYED. “YOU THINK YOU’RE NOT A GOOD WIFE??? BABY, YOU ARE THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME.” (Now he’s crying, too.)

Vernon: Squeezes your hand so tight. “That’s crazy talk. You’re literally the best person I know.” Says it so sincerely, you believe him.

They will keep reassuring you until you see yourself the way they do.

Cannot Believe You'd Even Think This About Yourself ("I must have misheard you. Say that again and see what happens.") — Wonwoo, Minghao, Dino

Wonwoo: Dead serious. “You’re questioning yourself? The woman I married? Don’t ever do that again.” His voice is soft but firm.

Minghao: Crosses his arms. “So you’re telling me a job can determine your worth? Do you think that’s true?” He will MAKE you realize how amazing you are.

Dino: Eyes WIDE with disbelief. “Do you think my love depends on your job? Is that how little you think of my love for you?” (He’s so hurt that you’d ever doubt yourself ☹️)

They don’t tolerate self-doubt. They will make you understand your worth, one way or another.

Extra

Treats you like a princess for the rest of the day

"If they don’t appreciate you, I’ll appreciate you twice as much."

EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM would spoil you immediately.

Expect your favorite food, hugs all day, unlimited kisses, a cozy movie night, and them reminding you how perfect you are.

OT13 does NOT care about your job. He cares about YOU. He will protect, comfort, and love you through this and he will make sure you know you are still an amazing wife, partner, and person.

[maskedcrawford]

Hidden Secrets

G Dragon x Reader

Summary: Steve, Ji-yong and another morning after. But this time words are spoken that can't be taken back.

Warnings: MORE Angst but this time it ends a little differently. I hope you guys enjoy! I'm having a blast writing this fic and so glad you guys are enjoying it. Please leave a like or a reblog if you enjoy and be sure to follow for updates on the story. Thank you for reading and for your support!

Chapter 2

Chapter 3- Beauty in the Mess

You listen to the phone ring, ring and ring some more. Why were you calling Steve exactly? One reason, you wanted to take your mind off Ji-yong and whatever her name is.

“Hello,” his tired but sober, for once, voice answers.

“H-hey,” you choke out.

“Y/n?” he asks as he sits up in bed, “What’s up?” he’s more alert now.

“If I text you the address, can you come over?” You had that feeling in the pit of your stomach that this wasn’t a good idea, but you were too hurt and frustrated to care.

“Uh, yeah just let me know where you are.”

“Ok, and bring condoms.” You say and hang up on him. Your stomach is in knots but you don’t care. You want something Ji-yong clearly isn’t going to give you and you aren’t exclusive. He said you could bring men home, so you’re going to.

You walk out of your room again and you stop and listen for a moment, there’s silence in his room and you figure he’s asleep.

“Safe till morning,” you think as you walk to the living room and watch outside the window. No need in him knocking and possibly waking up Ji. Once he gets there you let him in and put your finger to your lips making the shh motion. You lead him to your room wearing nothing but a long t shirt and your underwear.

“I uh, brough these,” he says showing you the box of condoms and you take the box and throw it aside to be used later.

“What’s going on?” his face is full of confusion and while you wish it was Ji-yong you were about to kiss, its not. But hey, he isn’t the only one who can use his imagination. You bring Steve’s neck down to your level as you capture his lips in a kiss filled with nothing but lust.

“Y/n,” he tries to say against your lips. You pull back and slip the t shirt off. You place his hands on you, knowing how to work him like a fiddle.

“Don’t talk, just make me feel good,” you say as you kiss him again. Did he make you feel good, eh not exactly. Kind of. Not the way Ji-yong did. His touch wasn’t heaven, it wasn’t electric or passionate, it was needy, rushed and selfish. He didn’t elicit the same noises or desires in you; being with Ji-yong really had spoiled you. But you honestly didn’t care as long as you got off.

“Does that feel good baby.”

“Don’t talk,” you said as you kissed him again, trying to think of Ji instead of him.

“Fuck.” You moan out.

“I thought you said we have to be quiet.”

“What did I say about talking?” you swat his face. Did you exaggerate a few noises? Of course, I mean, what good would this be if Ji-yong didn’t know anything.

Once the activity was done, you both lay there in bed heaving.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathes as he tries to cuddle you. You get up before he can fully embrace you and quietly pick up your shirt and underwear putting it back on. You honestly needed a shower after that.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Want some company,” his voice is suggestive.

“No, Steve,” your voice is filled with annoyance and you twist your face in disgust.

You turn on the hot water once you get in the bathroom, the hottest you can stand, and slip in feeling it hit and sting your skin. Tears unintentionally stream down your cheeks. You hadn’t processed the stress any of this had put you under until this moment.

“What is wrong with me,” you sobbed quietly. 9 months ago, your life was so different. Your boyfriend was decent and working, Ji-yong was just your best friend and life was smooth. Now, your relationship with your best friend is more complicated than ever and your deadbeat ex-boyfriend was waiting in your bed, after he slept with another girl! You huff as you scrub your body, trying to make it feel clean after what you had just done. You notice a spot that looks like it wants to bleed and you stop before too much damage is done.

You walk back into your bedroom after your shower and see Steve is all ready asleep. Aftercare was never his thing. He liked to fuck and then sleep. In that particular order. You roll your eyes as you get in bed, thinking once again about how Ji-yong would be treating you.

He’d clean you up first and foremost. Ask if you were ok and then he’d hold you like if he didn’t, you’d fall apart; like he was some kind of glue for you. He’d tell you how good you did, how beautiful you are, and how special he thinks you are too. He didn’t treat it as a casual thing despite the arrangement, he treated it like you were his lady, because in those moments you were.

Before you know it, morning comes and you hear the sound of shouting and pots and pans clanging together. Your eyes widen as everything rushes back to memory. You look over in a futile effort to see if Steve is with you still. Of course not.

With your emotions clear, last night’s decisions are weighting heavy on you. You crawl out of bed and sigh before opening the door.

“Get the fuck out!” you hear Ji’s voice filled with rage.

“I swear to God if you fucking touched her,” you couldn’t see him in the hallway but you knew his face was red. He’d never sounded so angry.

“Look man she called me,” Steve says. Steve was good at covering his own ass, even if it was true.

“So you fucking came? Did she not make it clear she was done with you sorry ass?” you couldn’t help but revel in the fact that he was defending you, despite the tiff, it was really sexy.

“Well, considering the fact that moaned because of me last night, no,” you could hear the smirk in Steve’s voice and you heard a glass break.

“Fucking shit, man.” You hear Steve say and you walk around the corner. Your vison is filled with a trashed kitchen and Ji-yong has a pot in one hand and a knife in the other. Steve is hunched over, more cuts and bruises, you particularly notice one to his eye. That must’ve happened before you woke up.

“What the actual fuck, y/n?” Ji-yong asks angrily, looking at you.

“I,” your voice is hoarse.

“You want me to, in the middle of making breakfast this morning, hear my shower turn on and see your naked shrimp dick boyfriend in it when I go to see if you’re up?” You catch a glimpse of his hand and see that it’s bloody, but it’s not cut. It’s Steve’s blood.

“I’m just,” Steve points to the door and he limps past you. You rub the back of your neck with your eyes closed. Fuck. He turns his attention to you and you can see the absolute rage on his face. He was hurt, don’t get it twisted, but he was also pissed someone touched what was his, even if he’d been the one to start it.

“I mean, really? What the hell were you thinking? He was drunk the last time you seen him and he tried,” he trails off closing his eyes and he slams the pot and knife down as he remembers the sight of you in danger. It makes his blood boil.

“I,”

“Actually, I don’t fucking care,” he puts his hand up. You were now to the point of being the one upset.

“Hold on,” you shout as he walks past you still in his robe.

“First of all, you weren’t even supposed to be here today. You told me you were recording today.”

“Yeah, I canceled. Didn’t realize I had to run every little plan by you,” he turns to you his eyes full of bitterness.

“Second,” you put up two fingers, “You don’t get to be mad at me with the way I chose to proceed after the bull shit you pulled last night. Not mention, third,” you hold up another finger, “You said we weren’t exclusive and you,” you point your finger to his chest, “brought someone else home first. So excuse me for thinking I could do the same thing.” You cross your arms and put your weight on your hip.

Ji-yong’s jaw clenches and unclenches multiple times

“I didn’t bring home someone who treated me like shit and broke my heart,” he seethes.

“No, you’re right,” you say too calm, “I live with a guy who can that just fine.”

 He goes silent for a moment, the air between, you would swear you could suffocate in the silence.

“Was he better than me?” you’re caught off guard with his question. His voice is so low and calm it almost frightened you.

“Was she better than me?” you retort. You turn to grab a waffle off the plate in the kitchen when you hear him mumble it.

“No.”

You freeze, with a piece of waffle in your mouth, you turn a look at him, still standing there in his robe and bed head. He looked almost like a little kid as he looked at the ground. You walk over to him.

“What,” you ask as you swallow the waffle bite. He sighs and rubs his hands together before admitting this small truth to you once again.

“No, jagiya, she wasn’t better than you,” he’s looking deep into your eyes. Your face softens slightly.

“Really?” He nods his head with pursed lips.

“So tell me, was he better than me?” his lips twitch slightly. You look at the ground and tell him the truth.

“No,” your voice comes out shy and quiet.

“Mm,” he hums for a minute before coming closer to you.

“Did you at least have a nice time,” his tone is slightly cocky and you want to tear away any pride you can of his.

“Yeah, I did,” you say short and snippy, “I think you should change your mind about the studio today. It’s probably best you aren’t around me.” You say matter of factly. You start walking back to your room. And that’s when his girl from last night comes trapsing out in nothing but a bra and panties. How the heck did she not freak out over the whole ordeal?

“Oh, sorry I was just uh, oh, there you are,” she smiles shyly as she walks by you and gives Ji-yong a good morning kiss. Well actually she practically sticks her tongue down her throat.

“So are we going to spend in the day in bed like we talked about? It’s getting lonely in there,” she giggles. Ji-yong glances your way with sorrowful look at your rage is once again activated. He really had the nerve to get mad at you and she was why he wasn’t going to record? To be with some girl you were sure he didn’t know the name of.

“But Ji-yongie you promised,” you stand there shamelessly listening.

“Not today, I have something I have to do,” his eyes flit to you, “ I’ll get you an uber home.” She pouts and your fists are balled at your side. You go to your room and slam the door.

Ji-yong knew he screwed up, bad, and he wasn’t willing to leave it like this. You two hadn’t fought like this, ever. You two never really did fight, unless it was playful, but that was before your feelings, and bodies, intertwined.

He gives the blonde, who he still can’t recall her name, a kiss on the cheek as he sends her off in his uber. You walk out of your room in your clothes for the day, ready to get to work on the painting you’ve been working on. You catch him staring at you from the entry hall by the front door.

You walk into the small studio and give it a moment. You can’t risk Ji-yong walking in on your artwork. You were painting a picture of you and him, only it was becoming more abstract, much like your relationship. It started off as two people, you and him essentially, but as emotions came up and then got buried and the chaos of the last 48 hours came about, the picture began to have splatters of paint, lines through the middle of it. He’s painted in red and orange, signifying passion and love, what you felt for him. You were painted in colors of blue and gray, signifying your bottled-up emotions and the heartbreak you’re beginning to feel is inevitable.

Ji-yong pads down the hallway, not sure of what to say, how to make it right or what would happen next, but he knew he cared about you too much to not try and talk to you about it. See he never really slept with that girl, she did some things, but he never touched her. He couldn’t, she wasn’t you. That’s why Steve hurt so bad, he knew you’d slept with him, and you did it because of what you thought he did with the girl he brought home. He gently opens the door and shuts it behind him. He see’s you standing in front of a gorgeous painting, staring at it.

“Wow,” you grab at your chest as you gasp. You don’t turn around, too anxious to move.

“It’s beautiful,” he says coming up behind you.

“You weren’t supposed to see it,” you move to put it away but he tugs you back, your back hitting his chest.

“Well, now I have,” he says quietly. He feels something wet his arm as it drapes around your midsection.

“Nae sarang,” he whispers lovingly in your ear. You grit your teeth for a moment.

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you say you turn to him, your tears being freely released. He shoots his hands up in mock surrender but you aren’t done.

“You really are a jackass, you know that? You really fucking are. I mean, you sit here and treat me like shit, leave me after last night and then go out and find some broad to fuck because I beg you for it?”

“I told you why what happened yesterday did.”

“Oh my God, Ji so I laughed. I laughed because I thought the idea was funny because of how fucked up our situation is!” Your voice echoes in the room. He nods his head slowly.

“And then you think you can just trapse in here, and act like I’m yours because you said she wasn’t a better fuck than me.” You move your hands wildly now out of anger. Maybe you should’ve been the one painted in red.

“Just go, get out so I can work,” you say with a sigh as you turn to grab your paint.

“What’s the red line for?” he asks curiosity getting the better of him.

“For the rift between us. It cuts us at our core because our relationship is fractured, Ji. Whether we want to believe that or not, it’s broken. And much like the paint on this canvas, it may be that way forever.” You explain with your back turned. There’s no way you could face him and say this. You don’t see the depression that twists on his face. The way his heart breaks to hear your words. Yeah he messed up, but he didn’t know he had hurt you this bad. This was supposed to be a casual thing for you.

“Y/n” he tries to come up to you, to hold you, to tell you that you can still fix it, but you shove him away from you.

“I think I’m going to need to move out.” You mumble.

“Listen, I know I screwed up, but,” he tries to reason with you, he regrets his choices from last night more than he ever thought he would. If he’d have known losing you is what it would cost him, he never would’ve done any of this. Yet he still can’t bring himself to be vulnerable with you, not completely.

“Ji-yong, get away from me,” you say through clenched teeth. He sighs and walks out.

You hear him slam the door to his room and you blast your music through the speakers and begin painting.

What you don’t see are the tears he lets flow. If he’d never of slept with you that night, if he would’ve kept control of himself you two wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Fuck!” you hear him yell over the music and despite your anger you can’t help but go check on him, you’re mad but you still love him. You stand outside his door and gently tap your knuckles against it.

“Ji,” you say gently. He doesn’t open the door. You turn the nob and to your surprise he’s laying on his bed. The one he laid in with her not 12 hours earlier. A picture of what they could’ve looked like tangled together enters your mind and you force it away. You don’t say anything, you just lay with him, putting your hand around his body, pressing him to you.

“Don’t leave, please,” his voice is hoarse, barely coming out above a whisper. He closes his eyes, silently begging you.

“Ji, this isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it,” he turns over to face you and that’s when you see it. The brokenness he’d been hiding. The pain at the thought of you leaving, at the thought of having lost you.

“It’s not that I want you to do anything, I just don’t think we can handle this. But at the same time things can’t go back to way they were.” You absentmindedly place a hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes, reveling in your touch.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he scoots closer to you, too close. Your mouths are inches from each other, your foreheads are touching, and you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Ji, we,” the tension is making your head spin as you notice his not so subtle staring at your lips.

“Oh, damn it,” you say in defeat as you pull him to you and your lips collide in a beautiful eruption of fireworks. He pulls you to him, pulling you on top of him. You separate to assault his jawline and neck. His breaths are short and pant like, his head spins from the chaos of the last few days and your touch. How the two of you could ever truly recover he wasn’t sure.

 You open his robe and trail kisses down his bare chest, stopping to nip at his skin every now and again. As you trail kisses down his stomach you see her face, again, and you stop. You look at him and he can see the change in demeanor.

“What’s wrong,”

“I can’t stop picturing it.” You move off of him and back to the side.

“I didn’t really sleep with her,” he says shyly and you shoot your brows up and look at him.

“What?”

“I mean she did some stuff but I never actually touched her,” his face is slightly red. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or more pissed.

“So what the hell? You just wanted me to think you slept with her to piss me off? Make me jealous or something?”

“No, I,” he rubs his hands down his face. Once again, an awkward silence fills the room.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says after a minute of stillness.

“I don’t want to go, Ji, but I can’t keep getting my heart broken.”

“What do you mean? How is your heart getting broken if we’re just casual.”

“Because,” you freeze before anything is said you can’t take back.

“Because,” you start again, “Even if it’s casual, we’re just using each other here. That’s fucking painful.”

“Like you used Steve last night,” he quirks a brow.

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, “You did the same thing with, who was she?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Exactly, I can’t take being used by you.”

“By me?”

“Yeah, it hurts, it stings it makes me,” your chest is heaving harder now.

“I just can’t do it, Ji-yong. I thought I could. I really did.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says trying to pull you close.

“I don’t want to lose you, but I have to think of myself. Hell I’m the only one thinking of me, here.”

“Hold on, that’s not true. I was trying to wine and dine you, make you feel better about this whole thing.”

“You did it because you wanted sex, you wanted my body, Ji-yong. I know that all ready. Dinner isn’t required when you aren’t going to date someone.

“Are you saying that’s what you want? A date?” he ducks his head to peer into your eyes and you quickly glance away.

“I have a painting to finish,” you mumble and get up off the bed.

“Y/N,” he stops you from leaving. He pauses and takes a deep breath.

“Will you go out with me tonight?”

“Ji-yong, don’t do,”

“I’m serious. If a date is what you want, a date is what you’ll have. No sex, no strings, just a romantic evening. I’ll plan the whole thing.”

“Don’t do this to keep me from leaving,”

“Yeoja agi, I’d sell everything I own and give up my career to keep you here.”

“Do you even want to date me or is it just a casual thing?”

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

“Y/n,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m crazy about you.” You look at him stunned.

Tags: @loveesiren @natalicss @mashtatosworld @nerdydoll-com

[universefcb]

Hellooo!! Could you write something with Pau Cubarsí? Where he meets Y/N's family, and is terrified of her father and older brothers? But in the end everything turns out okay. Something fluffy and funny please hehe 🤭💓

↬❥ Mission impossible

Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

sy: He meets his family for the first time, but his brothers are protectors.

a/n: Sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

warnings: No warning.

Today was a big day. Pau Cubarsí would finally meet his family. You were excited, but he... not so much.

“Baby, you’re freezing!” you said, holding his hands as you walked to your front door.

“I’m fine... just a little nervous,” Pau admitted, trying to hide it.

He had heard a lot about his family. His mother was a sweetheart, but his father and older brothers... well, they had a slight history of being overprotective. And Pau, despite being a fearless defender on the field, felt like this would be his toughest defense yet.

When they entered, their mother welcomed them with a warm hug.

“Dude! I finally meet you, darling! Y/N talks about you so much!” she said, smiling.

He smiled in relief. At least one positive point.

But then… they arrived.

His father and two older brothers walked into the room. Three tall men, arms crossed, with sharp gazes straight at Pau. The aura of intimidation was almost palpable.

“So you’re our sister’s boyfriend?” one of her brothers asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, it’s me,” Pau replied, swallowing hard.

“You play for Barcelona, right?” his father asked, without looking away.

“That’s right, sir.”

“Good to know. Because if you do anything wrong with my daughter, we’ll mark you like a defender in a Champions League final.”

Pau almost choked on his own air. You had to hold back your laughter.

“Dad!” you complained, giving him a light shove.

But his brothers laughed, amused by the evident terror in their boyfriend's eyes.

“Relax, Cubarsí,” the other brother said, giving him a none-too-gentle pat on the back. “We just need to make sure you’re the right guy for our sister.”

Pau nodded quickly, trying to hide his panic.

“I promise I am. I like her a lot. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

His father and brothers looked at each other, as if they were considering his answer. You could have sworn they were holding back laughter.

After a few tense minutes, his father finally broke the silence.

“Well, then come eat with us. Let’s see if you can handle the family dinner.”

If Pau thought the worst was over, he was wrong.

During dinner, his brothers began a real interrogation.

“What is your intention with our sister?”

“Do you have any exes that still talk to you?”

“If my sister asked for your card, would you give it to her without hesitation?”

“Guys!!” you interjected, rolling your eyes. “You guys look like those annoying barbecue uncles!”

Pau smiled nervously and, with each successful answer, he received looks of approval. In the end, he was more relaxed and even laughing at some stories about his family.

When the night ended and you were leaving, your father finally gave a small smile and gave Pau a firm handshake.

“You passed the test, kid. But keep your eyes open.”

His brothers crossed their arms and nodded in sync.

Pau let out a sigh of relief and smiled.

“Thank you, sir. I promise to take good care of her.”

On the way back, you looked at him and laughed.

“See? It was peaceful.”

He stared at you in disbelief.

“Easy?! I thought I wasn’t going to get out of there alive!”

You laughed and grabbed his hand.

“Well, now they like you. Next time will be much better.”

Pau took a deep breath and smiled, finally relaxing.

“I hope so. Because honestly, I'd rather mark Real Madrid strikers than face your father again.”

You laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

“My hero.”

[citricacidprince]

I was looking at your relativity falls au and I was thinking since Ford in the original series takes off Stan’s hat to show his hair, kinda revealing he is Ford, what if in relativity falls Ford takes the glasses off of Stan and puts them on and that is kinda of the moment

Also I really want more protective! Relativity falls Ford, I want to watch that child go feral and start biting people <3

Hiiiii!!! Sorry it took a super long time to reply to this I just,, this possessed me so much I may or may not have written, uh, 7400 words based on this lol (also a drawing but it’s hidden in the writing haha)

There sadly isn’t a lot of feral protective Ford in this, just sad wet cat baby Ford (tho you get a glimpse of it at the very end), but believe me I have many thoughts of protective Ford as they’re teens hehe!!

Like, they’re so fun to be because they’re the opposite of how they are in the show! Stan was the protector and would get into fights for Ford, but as teens Ford is extremely protective of Stan and will throw himself into a fight he know he can’t win in a moments notice because they insulted Stan, even when Stan tries to insist that it’s okay. These two make me siiiiick 💥💥💥💥💥

Anywho, this mini writing this is just a prolonged scene from Weirdmageddon part 3 but with my Relativity Falls AU paint on it lol

It’s filled with an comical amount of tears because I believe Mabel and Dipper are weepy saps and the baby boys haven’t had the ‘Boys don’t cry’ motto drilled into their heads yet, also they’re like, super traumatized atm haha

Well, have fun reading! Please please please please be nice, I know I’m not the best writer and just write when I’m possessed so please be so niceies to me or I’ll fucking cry <33💥💥💥💥

Everything is under the cut! :]

🍃🪦☁️~~~~~~~~~~~~⛈️👓🥀

Mabel and Dipper could only watch on in shock and horror as one of their beloved great nephew erased the mind of their other beloved great nephew. Dipper didn’t even know the boys still had that blasted machine, much less that they still had it on them here of all places!

Maybe it was good that the children had the memory gun hidden away. After all, they just used it to outwit and defeat Cipher.

However… at what cost?

Stanley’s round face was drenched in silent tears as he held the memory gun to the back of his brother’s head, his gaze completely focused but his trembling grip on the memory gun giving away just how much this was affecting him.

Dipper always thought he’d be ecstatic when Bill Cipher was finally defeated. Spit on his face, dance on his grave, give the worst eulogy in the world, the whole shebang. But now that the moment has finally arrived all he can feel is sick to his stomach.

They’re just kids. They shouldn’t be here. His sweet little grand-nephews shouldn’t be paying for his hubris. This should’ve stayed between him and Bill.

It should have been him.

The bright blue light faded and the memory gun hit the ground, Stanley’s hands shaking even worse now as tears fell to the floor, unable to keep his head up as little hiccups fell from his lips.

Dipper was still squeezing Mabel close to his side, the two frozen in their huddled positions on the floor, gut-wrenching guilt on his face while his sister had her hands over his mouth, only able to watch on with dread.

Dipper only faintly registered that the other members of the zodiac had been released from their tapestry prisons. That blonde woman Mabel seemed to like was rubbing her head as that young Hispanic woman who works for Mabel, Anjelita, held out a hand to help her up. That red-headed hairy lumberjack and that one oddly peppy goth teen helped young Fiddleford through his shaky breathing.

After a couple of moments Dipper heard his sister take a deep shaky breath, his voice wet as one of her hands reached out towards Stanley.

“…L-Lee? Lee, baby come here-” There was a weary and wobbly smile on her lips. She was doing that thing where she tries to be the comforting light in an awful situation, even though she is not doing any better than anyone else at the moment.

She was trying to corral her crying great-nephew into her arms, a mixture of trying to comfort him and herself.

She was swiftly cut off by gravity going wonky.

Dark bricks ripped out of the walls and shot up into the rift up in the blood red sky, Weirdmaggedon falling apart at the seams. Creatures of many shapes and sizes flew up into the rift, the older twins gripping each other close as they stared up into the multicolored light. Everyone was staring up into the sky, hope and relief in their hearts that the nightmare might finally be over.

Everyone but Stanley.

He was intensely staring at the back of his brother’s head, silent tears continuously streaming down his cheeks, unable to see the small content smile on Stanford’s face.

As the light began to envelop the town of Gravity Falls, Stanley reached out his hand to his kneeling brother to try and grab onto him but was unable to before the light reached the two, erasing most traces of Weirdmaggedon’s effects and safely displacing everyone in the Fearamid to the ground below.

The woods were quiet. Everything was much quieter than it was during Weirdmageddon.

There was barely a moment of peace before Dipper and Mabel were sprinting through the woods yelling out for their great-nephews, panic increasing with every passing second.

They finally came across the boys in a small clearing after 2 minutes of franticness. Stanley’s back to the older set of twins and Stanford kneeling in the grass.

Mabel ran much faster than Dipper did, practically throwing herself to her knees as she grabbed Stanley and pulled him tight into her arms. She buried him into the crook of her neck, tears beginning to drip down her face as she ran her fingers through his messy brown curls, trying to soothe him while she gently shushed his crying.

“Shhhh… shhh it’s okay Lee it’s okay sweepea, I’m here, Grunkle Mabel is here pumpkin.”

Dipper would’ve chuckled at the use of ‘Grunkle Mabel’, something Stanley insisted on calling her even after she revealed that she wasn’t a man because he thought Grauntie sounded strange, but he couldn’t really feel anything but heart ache right now. He stepped closer to the crying duo, kneeling down next to them as he glanced over towards Stanford.

He still seemed to be unconscious, quiet as a mouse as he kneeled on the grass. He was so still that Dipper almost wanted to check his pulse to make sure his heart was still beating, but the soft breathing coming from his chest eased his worries. Stanford was always so stressed and on edge the entire time Dipper had known him, which in all honesty, wasn't very long. However, in this moment with that small smile on his lips his nephew almost looked peaceful.

Guilt ate at his heart even more.

God he should’ve seen the warning signs that tension was building between the two boys. He’s the catalyst for causing Weirdmageddon by saying he would train Stanford in Gravity Falls while Stanley went home. He should’ve put his foot down and said Stanford was too young and needed to go home at the end of the summer with his brother. But his great nephew was just so insistent and Dipper himself was scrambling to think of an amazing gift for his twin sister for their first birthday together in 30 years, he just caved and said yes.

He’s the reason Stanley ran with that cracked rift. He was the final crack in the already strained relationship between the boys and he was too blind to notice.

He turned to his sister once more, emotions welling in his heart seeing his sister and nephew so upset and clinging to each other. He gingerly rubbed Stanley’s back and Mabel’s shoulder, softly speaking with sorrow dripping from his voice, “Stanley, I am so sorry… words can’t express how much I didn’t want this to happen. You shouldn’t have had to deal with the consequences of my mistakes..” He gingerly tucked a loose curl behind Stanley’s ear, softly adding on with a feeling of shame flooding his head, “…It should’ve been me.”

Mabel’s head immediately shot up at Dipper’s words, a glare on her wet face as she shot back with a low warning tone, “Dipper Lee Pines.” He quickly shut his mouth. Noted, she wasn’t going to take any self depreciation coming from him at the moment. Can’t say he blames her, he would’ve done the same if any self-depreciating words came from her mouth.

Stanley muffled something against Mabel’s neck instantly making the two stop what they were doing to turn to him. “What was that baby?” Mabel gently asked as Dipper continued to rub his back. The young boy pulled himself away from Mabel’s neck ever so slightly, taking in a deep shaky breath as he shakily repeated himself.

“…n-not Lee-”

The older twins' brows furrow, their hands stilling slightly as it was Dipper’s turn to softly question, “What are you talking about Stanley?”

The brunet pulls his trembling form away from Mabel to stand up, wiping his wet face with his arm, his cheeks so flushed from sobbing that his faint freckles were easily seen against the red. He stood still for a moment, trying to calm his breathing before he stepped between the sitting pair of twins and towards his kneeling brother.

He took in the sight of him for a moment, a sick feeling in his stomach as his trembling hands tentatively grab onto the glasses on his unconscious brother’s face, his touch light as a feather and careful, as if he was afraid his brother would shatter if his finger even as so much grazed him. He carefully pulled the glasses off and stared down at them in his hands, a fresh wave of silent tears falling from his cheeks and onto the cracked glass lenses.

“I-I’m… I’m n-not…” He shakily whispers, voice caught in his throat as he tries to get the words out. He gingerly lifted the glasses to his face and placed them onto his red nose, his fingers gripping the temples of the glasses as he hesitantly turned around. His wet brown eyes locked with his kneeling great-uncle and great-aunt, the kid’s gaze drowning in guilt as Stanford hesitantly continued on with his wobbling voice, “…I-I’m not S-Stanley.”

The two froze at those words, Mabel's bewildered gaze kept whipping her gaze between Stanford and Stanley, quickly growing distressed while Dipper felt a deep pit form in his stomach.

He’s so stupid, it should’ve been obvious but in all the chaos he didn’t even think to check. In the moment of peace he finally saw the differences.

The six fingers and the way his eyes squinted without his glasses should’ve been a dead giveaway, but there were also other signs as well.

Stanley had told Dipper not too long ago that his tooth was knocked out the second day the twins showed up. Apparently it was knocked loose when he fell face first into the dirt while fleeing with Stanford from a vampire, after his brother had hid the 3rd journal away from Stanley all day, taking ‘Trust No One’ Dipper had scrambled onto that in a paranoid panic to heart.

Stanford just lost his tooth not even 30 minutes ago. When the boys had begun to argue on the Zodiac Wheel Stanley couldn’t take it anymore and decked Stanford to the ground. Dipper remembers the immediate regret that flashed onto the young boy’s face when his brother spat out a bloody tooth onto the floor, opening his mouth to try and apologize but was unable to get a word out before Stanford quickly punched him back, causing the infamous fight between the two.

Stanford still had some speckles of dried blood on his chin, a reminder of that awful fight.

The two had faint freckles dusting their face but Stanley was the only one who had freckles on his shoulders.

The bandaid on Stanford’s face was falling off, as if it was peeled off and slapped onto his face.

Mabel let out a weak and breathless noise of confusion, brows furrowed and clearly overwhelmed by everything happening in such a short time. “W-Wha-? How-?”

Dipper cut his sister off. She was barely keeping it together as is, and while he was also extremely upset he had a lot of practice suppressing these kinds of emotions to survive in the multiverse. He can take over for a moment just so Mabel can take a moment to breathe.

“Stanford… what happened?” Dipper questioned, a comforting hand on his twin’s shoulder as his furrowed gaze met Stanley’s. Despite how intense he looked, there was a softness in his voice. A quiet plea for his great-nephew to tell him what the hell is going on.

Stanford’s watery eyes stayed locked with the ground, looking almost as overwhelmed and weary as Mabel did while his hands fidgeted against his stomach. “W-When you two started getting c-chased Bill I…” His breathing hitched. “…I didn’t know what to d-do, I was just so s-scared.”

One of his finger’s lifted to his lip as he unconsciously began to chew the skin off the side of it, a habit Mabel has been fighting tooth and nail for Ford to quit through the entire Summer.

Not that she can really bring herself to care at the moment.

Stanford looked increasingly distressed as he continued. “I-I was panicking, I always know w-what to do and I just I couldn’t t-think of anything! I thought my h-head was going to explode when-” He takes in a sharp breath, more tears beginning to well up in his eyes. “…w-when Stanley said he had a plan.”

Stanford was trying to wipe away the thick tears off his face, his cheeks irritated and red from how often he's been rubbing away tears. “E-Everything went so fast. He was explaining the p-plan as fast as he could while we swapped clothes. Said we were going to p-pull off our best con yet. Tricking Bill into S-Stan’s mind by convincing him it was m-mine and then erasing him for g-good.”

“I t-tried to ask why we were d-doing all of this… Stanley could've just erased my mind after I let B-Bill in and e-everything would just end, but Stanley… S-Stanley didn’t budge. He s-said it had to be him. Said I… S-Said I actually had a future.” Ford breathing hiccups, shoulders hiking up to his neck as even more even more tears run down his cheeks and to the grass below. “A-A-And I was j-just so scared I… I let him… I let h-him take my place…”

A choked sob rips from his throat, unable to take it anymore as he covers his face with his polydactyl hands, continuing to explain through the tears and shaky speech. “O-One of the last things I ever d-did was punch h-him in the face! I never t-told him I was s-sorry! He DIED thinking I h-hated him!”

Dipper immediately jumped into action, pushing himself over to Ford and pulling his hands away from his face. He rested his forehead against his great-nephew’s and held onto his smaller hands, keeping his eyes on Stanford’s as he firmly spoke. “Breathe with me Stanford. In and out.”

It took a moment but the kid’s breathing slowed ever so slightly as he tried to mimic Dipper’s breaths though he was still unable to control the hiccuping and sniffling.

“You didn’t kill Stanley.” Dipper continued to speak, his tone softening considerably as he gently squeezed Ford’s polydactyl hand with his larger one. “He’s alive and breathing right behind you.”

The kid began to look frustrated as he lowly choked out, “He might as well be.”

Dipper… couldn’t exactly retort that. By all means Stanley would be a shell of his former self, fundamentally a completely different person when he wakes up. However, he wasn’t going to let his great-nephew wallow like this. He gently squeezed his hands once more and softly questioned, “…Do you really think Stanley would hate you after all of this?”

Stanford froze at the question, only the sound of rustling leaves and birds chirping to be heard as the brunet boy’s eyes stayed locked with Dipper’s before letting it fall to the dirt below. After a couple quiet moments Stanford finally mumbled out. “He should.”

“But would he?”

“….” Ford couldn’t reply, a bittersweet and melancholic feeling flooding his heart.

As if on cue, a faint noise was suddenly made behind the three of them.

Everyone whirled their heads over to where Stanley sat kneeling on the grass. His brown eyes blearily began to open as he raised his hand up to idly rub them. The faint freckles on his cheeks and his brown curls were dusted in the warm light of the sun. A yawn fell from his lips, tiny tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the deep breath, before he finally opened his eyes completely.

His brown eyes blinked away sleep, his gaze slowly darting between the three people also kneeling on the grass in front of him, not saying a word yet, just taking them in.

Dipper and Ford waited with baited breath, words stuck in their throats as they stared back at Stan, trying to find any familiarity in his eyes.

Mabel couldn’t wait a single second longer.

“…S-Stanley? Lee?” She softly questioned, tears beginning to well up in her eyes again as she gingerly crawled closer to him. “H-Hey my little firecracker! You r-remember me right? Your lovable Grunkle Mabel!” Her hands raise up to cup Stanley’s round cheeks, her smile a little wobbly but her brown eyes filled with a ray of hope. “You remember me, d-don’t you pumpkin?”

Stanley just stared blankly at his great-aunt, completely silent for a moment before his brows furrow. He tilts his head, confusion clearly seen in his blank eyes as he bluntly asks, “Who are you?”

Mabel’s heart might as well have shattered into a million pieces. The tears welling up in her eyes freely fall but the wobbly smile refuses to fall. One hand raises to run through his messy curls as the other continues to cup his face. “W-What are you talking about sweetheart? It’s me, Stanley, It’s Mabel.”

Dipper sprung forward and gently began to pull Mabel away from Stanley, that pit in his stomach growing even more as his sister tried to weakly yank herself out of his grasp while crying out, “It’s me, Stanley! It’s me!” He squeezed her in his arms as her cries turned to sobs, burying her face against Dipper’s chest as she finally let out all the pain she’s been keeping in her chest since the moment Weirdmageddon had begun.

“It’s no use Mabel, Stanley doesn’t remember anything.” Dipper softly spoke. He hugged her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head, her silver curls brushing against his skin as his brown eyes locked with Stanley. The kid looked so confused and lost, a sight that just made his heart ache even more. “…Stanley doesn’t even realize it, but he just saved the world… Saved us… Our little hero…”

Stanley brows were furrowed, not understanding anything that was going on in the slightest. He glanced over at where Stanford was standing, lifting up his hand to cup his mouth and loudly stage whisper to the brunet, “What’s up with the old guys?”

Stanford didn’t answer, just staring at Stanley with large globs of tears dripping down his cheeks. Without warning he sprinted to his brother, engulfing Stanley in a tight hug and hiding his face in his neck. The impact of the tackle hug almost knocked the two to the floor but Stanley managed to keep himself propped up with one arm, brown eyes wide with shock as even more confusion filled his fuzzy mind. “W-Woah, okay-! We’re hugging now, I guess!”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry-” Stanford kept repeating those words over and over against his brother’s neck, his body trembling from just how hard he was crying.

Stanley had no clue what the hell was happening. He was in a place he’s never seen before, surrounded by strangers sobbing their eyes out, and he was realizing that he couldn’t really remember what his name was again. A part of him was telling him he should just book it, get away from these weirdos, but something in him refused to let him.

Maybe it was because they all genuinely looked so sad. He didn’t know who they were but his heart sorta ached at their grief-stricken appearances, kind of wanting to comfort them in some way.

Maybe he’s a bleeding heart, he can’t really remember if he is.

Stanley shuffled a little in Stanford’s tight grasp until finally something kinda heavy was laid onto the sobbing child’s shoulders. Stanford tentatively lifted his wet face from his brother’s neck to peer behind him.

It was his leather bomber jacket. Stanley had subtlety slipped off the jacket, careful not to jostle the crying kid too much, then plopped it onto his shoulders.

“You looked like you needed it more than me.” Stanley spoke, an awkward but kind smile on his face. He then quickly shrugged it off and added on with a casual tone, “Besides, I was gettin’ warm in that thing, you can just keep it.”

Stanford sharply inhaled at those words, polydactyl hands letting go of Stanley to grip at the jacket draped over his shoulders and pull it even closer, acting as if it was a barrier that could protect him from the world around him. A choking sob ripped from Stanford’s throat, hiding his face against his brother’s neck once again.

“Okay! We’re still crying!” Stanley awkwardly sputtered out, tensing up as the brunet continued to cry against his neck, unsure of what he should be doing. Eventually he settled on tentatively patting the crying kid’s back, hoping that he was actually comforting the kid and not making whatever was happening worse.

“I s-shouldn’t have pushed you a-away because I was t-told to! You w-were never a burden! I-I don’t hate you! I n-never did!” Stanford kept crying apologizes against Stanley’s shoulder, making the already confused brunet boy even more lost with every word spoken. His hand continued to pat on Ford’s back as he softly replied, his words tentative and unsure, “…I don’t hate you either.”

“Yes you do.” Stanford thickly replied against his brother's shoulder, completely and utterly convinced in his distraught state that his brother would absolutely hate him if he could remember what Ford did to him.

Stanley couldn’t exactly reply to that because he genuinely didn’t know if he did hate this kid. He didn’t even know who he was. So instead of responding he just continued to rub the brunet’s back, hoping to ease the hyperventilation sobs buried against his skin.

It took a handful of long moments filled with silence and tears for the three to compose themselves, Dipper being the first to finally stand up.

“…We’ve been wallowing here long enough, people are going to get worried.”

Dipper gingerly pulls Mabel to her feet, tears had stopped falling from her face but her cheeks red and her famous smile no longer present. He made sure his sister was steady on her feet before holding out his hand to the twin boys huddled together on the ground, a small weary smile on his wrinkled face.

“Come on… let’s go home.”

The twins pull themselves up with Dipper’s help. Once on their feet Ford latches onto Stan’s arm, sticking to his side and refusing to let go. Stanley doesn’t seem to mind or even notice the clinging presence as his brown eyes look up at the sky and over the tall trees with curious wonder.

Dipper softly sighed and eyed over the fascinated brunet looking over the tree line with concern, “Are your muscles alright, Stanley? No issues with walking or standing?”

The kid didn’t respond for a moment, still looking around before he finally registered that he was being spoken to. His brown eyes darted around before he pointed at himself with his free hand. “Oh! Am I Stanley?”

Dipper felt a stab in his chest at the question, but still gently replied, “Yeah… you’re Stanley.”

Stanley nodded at the confirmation and softly said ‘Staaaanley’ under his breath, getting accustomed to the unfamiliar name.

“Stanley… cool name! I like it!” He cheerfully replied, a wide smile spreading across his face that showed off his missing tooth. “And my legs are fine, I think.” He used his free hand to grab onto Dipper’s hand and loudly added on, “Now lead the way, old man!”

Dipper sighed and squeezed onto Stanley’s hand, gently guiding him through the woods back to the Shack, never forgetting the route home even after all these years.

The twins were parallels of each other as they walked. Mabel was clinging onto her brother’s arm and leaning her head against his shoulder while Stanford was doing the same with his brother. The air was so tense and gloomy around the four, affecting all but Stanley.

Stanley was looking around the woods as they walked, his brown eyes full of innocent wonder as he mumbled under his breath about ‘Never seeing trees this big’.

When they made it back to the Shack Dipper could only wince at the state it was in. It was falling apart and damaged from the battle during Weirdmageddon, the damage unable to be reversed even after the apocalypse had ended.

“The Shack…” Mabel sadly lamented under her breath, the sight of the place she spent 30 years making into a home and business just adding onto her already overwhelming amount of sadness.

Dipper was about to try and comfort her when he noticed 3 figures standing in front of the shack. After a moment the three started to sprint towards the family, frames becoming clearer as they got closer.

It was Anjelita, Boyish Dan, and Fiddleford.

“Are you guys alright?!” Boyish Dan loudly asked with his booming voice before he even reached the family. Anjelita was silently but swiftly following behind him, her hand gripping her Abuelo’s cap so it wouldn't fly off her head and her eyes filled with concern. Fiddleford was tripping over his feet from how fast he was sprinting, Dipper was mildly concerned the accident prone teen was going to trip over a branch or rock and slam face first against the ground.

He didn’t trip, thankfully. The small blond teen stumbled to a stop in front of the family, specifically the younger set of twins, panting heavily. “Thank the lord y’all are alright! I thought y'all had gotten trapped under somethin’ or hurt or worse!” Fiddleford anxiously rambled on, clearly having thrown himself into a tizzy over his friend's safety.

Stanley’s brows furrowed at the new faces, especially the long nosed southern one right in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and looked over the blond with an untrusting gaze. “…You’re not going to hug me and cry too, are you?”

Fiddleford looked bewildered at the question, blinking in confusion as he asked, “Now why on’ earth would I do that?”

Before Stanley or someone else in the family could reply, Anjelita spoke up from beside Boyish Dan. “His memory was erased, correct?”

The family, minus Stanley, flinched at the question.

Anjelita was a very observant young lady, so it makes sense she would be the first to notice.

Fiddleford and Boyish Dan kinda tensed up at the question. They also saw what happened while they were trapped in the tapestries, but they had hoped that maybe…

“That really stuck? He doesn’t remember anything?” Boyish Dan questioned.

“Nothin’ at all?” Fiddleford softly added.

Dipper wordless shook his head and a solemn silence covered them all.

The three followed the family into the dilapidated Mystery Shack, everyone looking over the cracks and debris with melancholy and sadness on their faces. Well, all but Stanley.

Stanley excitedly jumped up as they all entered the run down living room. “Wow, nice place you have here!” The brunet ripped away from Stanford and Dipper’s grasp, the suddenness making Stanford weakly try and latch back onto his brother for just a moment before giving up and wrapping his arms around his stomach. The boy then ran full speed at the dusty recliner. Stan always loved that chair would steal it from Mabel whenever he had a chance.

He jumped onto the seat and laughed as he bounced a little before settling down. “Lovin’ this chair! I just sink into this thing!”

He opened his brown eyes and saw everyone standing at the edges of the room, the miserable air of sadness weighing so heavy on the room he could feel it pressing against his skull. Stanley limply leaned back in the chair, a faint look of annoyance on his face as he bluntly questioned, “Geez, am I at a funeral? Who died and turned you all into sad sacks.”

No one answered.

Fiddleford turned to the group, going to lift his finger to bite on it only to stop himself when he realized he was doing it. Instead the blond lifted up his chewlery necklace and began to bite on it instead, his nerves shot as he desperately asked, “Surely there must be ah’ way to reverse this!”

“No, there isn’t.” Stanford replied, not even bothering to look up from the floor, looking extremely tired and downright miserable as he hugged his jacket closer.

Fiddleford whips around to Stanford, exasperation and agitation clear on his face as he yells back, “There's gotta’ be!”

Dipper softly sighed, defeat dripping from his voice as he gently replied. “I’m sorry, Fiddleford. There isn’t anything we can do for Stanley. No one can come back from something like this.”

Anjelita perks up from the besides Boyish Dan, counteracting Dipper’s statement with a simple, “Miss Candy.”

“W-What?” Dipper questioned, blinking up at her in confusion.

The large red-headed teen jolted and jumped up at the reminder.

“That’s right! Kooky Candy got her memories back during that whole weird secret society adventure!”

Fiddleford looked up at Dipper with hope and desperation in his green eyes, hands trembling from the reminder of that awful day and his shot nerves. “Y-Yeah! An’ Miss Candy’s mind was cracked ‘cause of tha’ memory gun!”

The blond points to Stanley sitting on the recliner, the confused brunet just staring at the group with furrowed brows, not taking in anything that they’re saying. “Lee still gotta’ chance!”

Dipper is quiet for a moment, brain running a mile a minute. When he finally speaks up again his voice is low and unsure.

“… I’m not going to say it's going to work,”

His eyes meet his sister’s, her sad brown eyes filled with a glimmer of hope at the thought of being able to save her little firecracker.

“But I’m not going to say it’s impossible either.”

He racked his brain once more, trying to think of a solution, an answer that has a high probability of working.

“…Maybe if we had something that could jog his memory-”

Mabel suddenly gasped, eyes wide as she squeezes Dipper’s arm, her grip tight. “My scrapbook!”

She then quickly rushes to a desk near the table, glitter and shimmering pieces of paper fluttering out as her hands rummaged in one of the drawers. She let out a loud ‘Aha!’ And pulled out a pink and very sparkly scrapbook.

“It’s not going to work.” Stanford bluntly mumbled, defeat and sorrow clinging to his small frames.

“Not with that attitude!” The old woman quickly shoots back, not letting anything snuff out her freshly burning glimmer of hope in her chest.

She quickly ran back over to Stanley, the rest of the group, minus Stanford, following suit. She placed the glimmering book onto the confused child’s lap, the front labeled ‘Summer of 2012’ in sparkly glitter pen.

“I’ve been working on this book since the day you two arrived!” Mabel offhandedly explained while opening it to the first page. Pasted in the middle of that page was a cute photo of Stanley and Stanford unpacking their bags. Stan was making a silly face at the camera while Ford had not realized the photo was being taken, too busy hanging up his Nikola Tesla poster with a concentrated face. Stickers and other miscellaneous crafting objects were glued to the page. “Here’s the first day you two arrived!” She then pointed at about 4 to 6 small pieces of wood taped to the page. “And those are the splinters you got stuck in your hand when trying to unpack!”

Stanley furrowed his brow at that, very confused on why she would keep something like that but not having a chance to ask before she pointed to the next thing.

The next photo on the page was Stanford and Stanley looking a tiny bit scratched up and tired. Ford was looking away from the camera and into the inner pocket of his jacket, excitement shining in his eyes as he stared at the journal he had found in the woods that day that was poking out of his jacket ever so slightly. Stanley was also excited but for a very different reason. His eyes were wide with excitement, his equally wide smile showing off the space in his teeth where his tooth was knocked out. The missing tooth was being held very close to the camera, still covered in small flecks of blood.

“And here’s you losing your tooth the very next day!”

Next to the photo was also a small tooth taped onto the paper, assumedly Stanley’s baby tooth that was knocked out. He especially wanted to ask why she had scrapbooked that but was once again cut off, no one except him finding this old woman strange in the slightest.

Fiddleford had leaned over and flipped the page. On the page was a photo of Fiddleford, Stanley, and Stanford all huddled together on one of the boy’s beds, all of them wearing pajamas. Stanford and Stanley seemed to both be talking at the same time, talking over each other while Fiddleford looked a little nervous and overwhelmed, but a smile very clearly seen on his face as he was squished between the twins.

“Tha’s the first time I spent tha’ night after we ‘came friends! After I, uh, ya’ know, tried to kill ya’ with a giant robit-”

Boyish Dan pointed at the next page. The twins were wearing 70s themed dancing clothes, disco lights shining on the two as they stood alone on a dance floor. The boys were covered in punch but still smiling while sideways hugging. Stanford in particular looked a little tired and had a bruise or two.

“Your guy’s 13th birthday party? A bunch of power hungry Ford clones causing so much trouble we pulled the fire alarm and set off the sprinklers?

He then pointed at two carnival tickets taped onto the page next to a photo of Boyish Dan’s grappling both of the twins under his arms and lifting them high into the air, standing in front of a carnival as the warm afternoon light washed over them. Dan was laughing maniacally while Ford looked shocked, grabbing onto Dan’s large arm looking at the ground nervously, as if he was afraid of being dropped. Stanley also looked shocked but not in the same way Stanford did. Stan’s face was bright red and he looked like he was trying to laugh off being picked up so suddenly.

“How about the carnival? You tried that ‘test your strength’ game while Ford did that ‘guess how many jellybeans are in this jar’ game and both failed at them?”

Anjelita softly spoke up next to Boyish Dan as he turned the page. A picture of Stanley all dressed up was pasted onto the page. He was wearing a black suit, a red fez with the same symbol that’s on his sweater Mabel made him, an eye patch, and an 8-Ball cane. He had his eye patch flipped up and was winking at the camera, fully showing off his showman persona. Next to that photo was another one, this time depicting Stanley and Stanford sitting in a booth with Anjelita and her grandparents. Stanley and Anjelita’s Abuelo, Soos, were scarfing down a pizza slice as fast as they could, assumedly in a race to see who could eat it faster. Stanford was looking at his brother with mild disgust and concern while Anjelita’s Abuela, Melody, was excitedly cheering on her husband. Anjelita was sitting at the table leaning her chin on her hand, a soft amused smile on her lips.

“The time you were the boss of the Mystery Shack for a day? The arcade with the killer robots?”

Dipper had his hand on Mabel’s shoulder, carefully questioning, “Is any of this ringing a bell? Anything at all?”

Everyone, minus Stanford, were crowding Stanley, all in his personal space and making the dazed child even more confused. On edge and gripping the scrapbook tightly, furrowed brown eyes completely void of familiarity as he looked over the group.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Stanley began, quickly looking down as he slammed the scrapbook closed. “But none of this is making any sense to me! You keep talking to me like I know who you are, but I don’t!”

The hope in the group died at Stanley’s outburst, all of their enthusiasm fading and disappearing entirely in record time.

“Told you.” Stanford softly mumbled from the other side of the room, despondent and hugging himself tight while leaning against the wall, utter exhaustion seeping into his bones.

Stanley shifted uncomfortably in the recliner, that bubbling sense of guilt building in his stomach and his chest once again at the sight. He doesn’t even know these people but he doesn’t want to see them upset. Guess he really is a bleeding heart. He’s learning something new about himself every second.

The brunet sighed, idly rubbing his round cheeks as he quietly added on, his voice much softer than before, “Look… I’m sorry I don’t remember… I really am…”

“It’s alright Stanley, it’s not your fault.” Dipper gently replied, unaware of the way Stanford flinched at those words behind him.

There was a depressing and strained silence hanging over the group afterwards, no one really knowing what else to say after their hopeful attempt was proven to be pointless.

Then all of a sudden hot air and a snorting noise tickled Stanley’s left ear.

The kid whirled his head at the noise only to come face to face with a big old pig with a collar around its neck, along with a name tag that Stanley couldn’t read from where he was sitting. The two just stare at each other for a couple seconds, blank stare to blank stare, until it was finally broken by the pig hopping up and getting closer to Stanley, trying to chew on his brown curls.

Stanley squealed with surprise and tried to push the massive pig away, Mabel weakly laughing on her knees at the antics, her mind flashing to all the times Waddles has lovingly bothered her great-nephew the entire time he’s been here. She was about to tell her beloved pet to stop messing with Stanley when the kid beat her to the punch.

“Augh! Waddles! How many times have I told you to stop trying to eat my hair!”

Everyone froze, even Stanford’s head whirled over at Stanley’s words.

“…What did he say?” Ford asked, his voice laced in disbelief.

Stanford initially didn’t want to think there was a chance for Stanley to remember, figuring that this was going to be his punishment. Forever mourning someone who’s not even dead, someone he all but killed. But when Stanley spoke Waddles name, something he shouldn’t remember, felt that little ball of hope he’s been trying so hard to suppress in his chest reemerge.

Now Waddles was trying to lick Stanley’s cheek, making the boy squeal even more.

“I said get Waddles off me, Sixer!”

A small breathless laugh left Dipper’s throat as ran his hands through his silver curls, a hopeful disbelief in his eyes. “…It’s working.”

Stanford suddenly sprinted up to the group, grabbing onto his Great-Aunt’s arm from where she’s kneeling in front of Stanley and holding her scrapbook. “Keep reading, Grauntie Mabel.” His gaze serious, but his voice a soft plea.

Mabel had to quickly blink a couple times and bring herself back to reality, adrenaline beginning to pump in her veins at the prospect that this was working. She jumped to her feet, not even wavering as her knees creaked at the sudden movement, and called out to everyone in the room, “Story time!”

She grabbed onto Stanley, that classic Mabel smile was back on her face as she easily lifted him up and sat down where he was sitting on the recliner, pulling the frazzled boy onto her lap. She reached out and yanked Dipper to her as well, making him sit right next to her on the recliner. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but thankfully the two twins had always been on the lankier side so they made it work.

Dipper held his hand out to Stanford, helping him up and pulling him onto his lap, paralleling his sister next to him. Stanford’s immediately pressed against Stanley’s side, polydactyl hand instinctively slipping into his and squeezing like his life depended on it.

Boyish Dan and Anjelita leaned more on the farther back sides of the recliner while Fiddleford jumped up and sat on the armrest closest to Mabel, the blond pressing himself against Stanley’s other side.

Stanley was now completely surrounded once again, being hugged and squeezed and picked up by these strangers. However this time he didn’t get annoyed or uncomfortable at the attention. Instead there was this familiar warmth in his chest, like he was always meant to be held like this. He can’t really describe what caused that shift.

Maybe these guys are right, maybe he is remembering.

Stan allows himself to relax in the arms of the older woman and against the two kids pressing against either side of him, a small smile growing on his face.

“Okay okay,” Mabel began, flipping back to the first page of the scrapbook. “It all started when I got a call from my dearest older brother asking me to watch my sweet darling great-nephews for the summer, and how could I say no to having my precious little nephews all to myself for 3 months!”

Mabel began to go over every picture and every memento in the scrapbook, everyone else pitching in and adding their own commentary or laughing every once and a while, a smile on everyone’s face.

Except for Stanford.

Stanford was looking intensely at his twin, waiting anxiously for the moment Stanley finally remembered him.

A part of him was excited, the other was dreading it.

The moment his brother remembers what happened, what Ford did to him, their bond is going to completely shatter and Stanley is going to want nothing to do with him anymore. No more late night talks, no more covering for each other, no more getting into trouble. Stanford wouldn’t be surprised if Stanley wanted to cut him out of his life completely after this after what he did. Stanford wouldn’t even blame him. He deserves it after all.

Then he saw it and his heart stopped in his chest.

Stanley rapidly blinked for a second, a familiar shine in his brown eyes as he turned to look at Stanford, recognition and understanding in his stare for the first time since the end of Weirdmageddon.

The two stared silently as Mabel continued to talk, everyone’s words muffling into background noise.

Stanford wasn’t going to beg for forgiveness. His eyes weren’t filled with sorrow or guilt. They were steady, completely prepared for anything Stanley threw at him, knowing whatever it was he deserved it.

Stanley’s eyes were filled with that familiar shine but no emotion showed on his face as his stare bore into his twin, completely silent as the two eyes stayed locked.

Then Stanley did something Stanford wasn’t expecting. His brown eyes softened, a smile on his face as he got closer and leaned his head onto Stanford’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing over his twin’s polydactyl knuckles the same way their mother would do whenever she tried to calm them down when they were much smaller.

Stanford was tense, completely frozen. He was expecting yelling, punching, blaming, or even something as simple as wordlessly pulling his hand away, but he wasn’t expecting forgiveness.

He didn't deserve this. Stanley should hate his guts. Despise him and push him away just like Stanford was doing most of the summer.

Ford’s body didn’t untense, but he did slowly rest his head on top of Stan’s, squeezing his brother's hand as if it was his life line, his thoughts swirling in his mind like a hurricane.

He didn’t deserve Stanley’s forgiveness.

Or was it pity?

It must be pity.

It has to be.

Mabel was still speaking as she leaned down and rested her chin onto Stanley, Dipper doing the same with Stanford. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped everyone in the room. Everyone but Stanford, who instead felt a sickening feeling of guilt deep in his chest.

Stanford didn’t deserve this. This kindness.

So he swore right then and there that he was going to spend the rest of his life atoning for what he did, staying by his twin’s side to make sure nothing would never, ever, hurt his brother ever again.

Or until the day Stanley wises up and realizes that Stanford wasn’t worth his pity, that he’s too good to have a coward like him for a brother.

Whatever came first.

🌻🌱🌤️~~~~~~~~~~~~🌦️🛡️🥀

Hope you liked it!! It was fun to write when my thumbs weren’t hurting from typing on my phone for 6 hours straight lmao 💥💥💥

[concretejunglefm]

🤸🏼‍♀️ I'm here with another one, you gotta stop writing such a good stuff to get rid of me now. Nipple orgasm with Noah, and honestly, I don't care who gives and who receives🙊

I WILL WRITE WHATEVER YOU WANT ME TO BB!

CW: mentions of nipple play, use of clamps and use of a bullet.

NSFW below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Hold the chain between your teeth, baby, or I’ll stop.” You’re positioned on Noah’s lap, straddling him while lifting the chain connected to a set of nipple clamps that are securely fastened around each of his nipples, towards his mouth.

As you pull on it, he lets out a hiss that merges into a low moan. The corners of your mouth twitch, fighting against the smirk that wants to spread.

“We can stop you, you know.” You hold the chain up at the tip of your forefinger, just inches from his mouth, observing the way his face twists between pain and ecstasy. You’ve been treading on the edge with him all night, searching for the precise point that makes him as hard as he is right now against your ass.

“No, no. Please, I want to keep going.” There’s a clear desperation in his tone, and you happily comply, gently inserting the chain between his teeth as he opens his mouth to accept it.

The moment he does, and your hand is free, you bring the bullet back between you, leaning slightly back as you turn on the vibration and begin to slowly trace it along his stomach, following the intricate pattern of his tattoos that blend across his stomach and ascend along his chest.

His hands rest on your thighs, and you feel the way he digs his fingers into the soft, plump flesh, trying to ground himself as you take full advantage of his heightened state by using only his nipples as his source of pleasure and stimulation.

You hear the way his breathing becomes ragged as you raise the bullet, until moans start to follow, especially when you begin to tease the top of the bullet over the metal clip attached to his nipple, holding it there and feeling his cock twitch beneath you in response. He doesn’t even need you to touch him anywhere else; he’s so sensitive and far gone in his pleasure that he’s easily manipulated in this state. As you slowly trail over his chest, moving towards his other nipple, you catch the strained sound in his voice, his fingers gripping you tightly as he trembles beneath you.

Raising your gaze to his face, you gently cup his cheek with your free hand, stroking the reddening skin as you watch him. “You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” He doesn’t respond with words but nods his head. The way his brow furrows and the faint sheen of sweat that glistens on his forehead tells you everything you need to know—he’s been struggling with holding back.

“Cum for me, my sweet boy, and make it messy.” You encourage, your smirk spreading across your lips as you press the bullet over his other nipple and feel his cock pulsing beneath you. A warm sensation spreads against your ass as he does and even as you pull the bullet away, you feel it continue. When you look down between you, his stomach muscles clench as he pushes himself through his orgasm. The mixture of whimpers and moans builds up in his throat before he finally lets the sounds escape by releasing the chain between his teeth. Then, exhausted from the overwhelming stimulation, he falls back against the headboard.

[cuteandhughesy]

1000 Follower Celebration Prompt List ⊹˚₊

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

WOW… when I started posted my fics a few months back, I never expected the outpouring of love, positivity, feedback and support I’ve received from all of you.

as a huge thank you for this milestone, i’ve decided to give back in the best way I know how! with a prompt list!

starting now you can pick any of the players from the given list (see below), pair them with a corresponding prompt, and I will write a little blurb/imagine on it!

there’s no limit per person, and no rules besides my usual blog requesting rules. there is also no limit on how many i’ll be choosing and posting—if it inspires me, it inspires me 🤭💌

REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED ❤️

⊹˚₊ players ⊹˚₊ (alphabetized)

andrei svechnikov

anthony stolarz

arber xhekaj

auston matthews

brady skjei

brock boeser

dakota joshua

dawson mercer

erik johnson

ethan edwards

gabe landeskog

hayden fleury

jacob truscott

jamie drysdale

jamie oleksiak

john marino

johnathan kovacevic

joseph woll

kirby dach

leon draisaitl

luke hughes

mat barzal

matt rempe

matthew knies

mark estapa

michael kesselring (the @wannabehockeygf affect)

mikko rantanen

nathan mackinnon

nico hischier

quinn hughes

ross colton

seth jarvis

shane pinto

sidney crosby

simon benoit

trevor zegras

william nylander

wyatt johnston

⊹˚₊ prompts ⊹˚₊

1. “you’re such a loser”

2. “please…just stay”

3. “we really shouldn’t” “so?”

4. “mhmm you taste like cotton candy”

5. “yeah, well he should learn to keep his hands to himself”

6. “holy fuck I could cum just like this”

7. “keep your eyes on me baby”

8. “look how pretty you look coming undone for me”

9. “i’m not leaving you like this”

10. “are you blushing?”

11. “let me distract you”

12. showering together (sexual)

13. showering together (non-sexual)

14. “just sit down and let me pamper you”

15. “you’re so pretty it pains me”

16. kissing you to shut you up

17. a stranger letting you have their seat on the train/bus (meet cute)

18. voice notes they send you

19. “can you tickle my arm?”

20. “will you marry me?”

21. “if I fall off, it’ll be your fault”

22. “are you sure I look fine?” “trust me, you like real fine.”

23. “i’m carrying your giant baby, the least you could do is get me some ice cream.”

24. “let’s just sneak off for a few minutes.”

25. grabbing their chain to bring them in for a kiss

26. “I can’t tell if I hate you or love you right now”

27. “i’m old enough to be your dad.” “I. don’t. care”

28. “keep still you little… troll”

29. self pampering night

30. “you got me flowers?” “yeah? is that like..not a normal thing with guys your age?”

31. tiktok (you pick the player, I match them to a cute couple esque tiktok video)

32. “did I stutter?”

33. “who did this to do?”

34. “look at that shiner” “have some sympathy”

35. “I can give you something else to suck on.”

36. “are you drunk?” “pshhh, no.”

37. “you’ve always got your arms wrapped around me.” “so?”

38. “you’ve been pouting ever since I went out on that date, what’s up?”

39. “you’re wearing that?”

40. “we should get a cat.” “we have a cat” “another cat.”

41. “you’re it for me.”

42. “can we get ice cream?” “what did mommy say?”

43. quiet sex while everyone is still sleeping

44. “how are you feeling?”

45. domestic bliss

CANNOT THANK YOU GUYS ENOUGH 💗 i’ll see you in my inbox loveys