#But yeah especially bedtime stories

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Y’all so there’s a good chunk of times in season one where Glenn insists on using a silly fucking voice as part of his cover and I’ve convinced myself that Glenn used to tell bedtime stories to Nick when he was little and put on those same silly voices and little Nick would just find them sooo funny and-

[moochio7]

I re-read @thetriggeredhappy ‘s fic (in their Tumblr req collection, #11) where scout had to wear a suit and uhhh I wanted to do a quick sketch related to it. ,,, this was just an excuse to draw this loser in a suit it’s not really related to the fic at all.

[dankovskaya]

Once again. The line prompt was something vague like “I wasn’t raised imperial” so I was expecting an equally vague response but instead I received whiplash from direct reference and self awareness.

[judebellswife]

Twin boys with Mason and one is a full on daddy’s boy while the other is always on your side and you just can’t help but fall in love even more each time you see how Mason has his daddy son moments after games as he insist on putting the boys to bed after an away game of the time allows it and just a cute scene about Mason rushing home and reading a bed time story or something x

Home Is Where The Heart Is - Mason Mount

— REQUEST status OPEN

— summary • Mason Mount is not only an incredible football player but also a devoted father of twin boys, Austin and Aaron. After every away game, if time allows, Mason rushes home to share precious bedtime moments with his sons, despite his exhausting schedule. Austin is a full-on daddy’s boy, always seeking Mason's attention and affection, while Aaron sticks closely to your side. The way Mason balances his career and family life makes you fall in love with him even more every day. This story captures a heartwarming night, where Mason makes it home just in time to put the boys to bed, reading a bedtime story that leaves everyone feeling safe, loved, and connected.

— warnings • Pure fluff, family dynamics, with minor mentions of post-game fatigue.

You glance at the clock—9:45 p.m. Mason’s away game ended two hours ago, and you know how long it usually takes for him to shower, talk to the press, and get on the team bus. He promised to be home tonight, to read Austin and Aaron their bedtime story. Even after grueling matches, he insists on putting the boys to bed if he can make it in time.

Beside you, Aaron clings to your arm, eyes drooping with exhaustion, but still holding out, waiting for Mason. His twin brother, Austin, is doing his best to stay awake too, a smile on his face as he talks about how his daddy will be home soon.

“Mommy,” Aaron mumbles softly, leaning his head against your shoulder, “is Daddy gonna make it?”

You smile at him, brushing his curly hair back. “He’ll be here soon, sweetheart. He promised, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, and Daddy never breaks promises,” Austin chimes in, his voice full of certainty. There’s that sparkle in his eyes whenever Mason is mentioned—a reflection of his bond with his dad. Austin has always been Mason’s shadow, a daddy’s boy through and through.

Aaron, on the other hand, is more of your quiet companion. He mirrors your calmness, often content with just snuggling close to you, whereas Austin is always full of energy, ready to play, especially if it involves his father.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening fills the house. Mason’s voice follows, low but full of warmth. “I’m home!”

Before you can blink, Austin is up and running down the stairs, calling out, “Daddy! Daddy!”

You scoop Aaron up, cradling his small body against yours as you walk to the door. You both arrive just in time to see Austin launching himself into Mason’s arms. Mason catches him easily, spinning him around as if he’s not exhausted from the match. His eyes meet yours over Austin’s shoulder, and his tired smile makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re home,” you say softly, meeting him halfway. He pulls you into a quick kiss, Aaron still in your arms.

“Told you I’d make it,” he murmurs against your lips before turning his attention back to Austin. “Did you behave for Mommy?”

Austin nods enthusiastically, his arms still tightly wrapped around Mason’s neck. “Yeah, but I missed you, Daddy.”

“I missed you too, buddy,” Mason says, ruffling his hair. “What about you, Aaron?” He reaches out to ruffle Aaron’s hair as well, but Aaron squirms a little closer to you.

Aaron gives a small smile. “I missed you too, Daddy.”

Mason’s face softens even more, if that’s possible. He steps closer and gently takes Aaron from your arms, holding both boys now. “I’ve got time for a story. How about it?”

Austin’s eyes light up. “Yes! Can we read The Gruffalo?”

Aaron’s head rests against Mason’s shoulder, his voice quieter but just as eager. “Yeah, I like that one.”

You follow the trio upstairs, your heart swelling with love as you watch Mason carrying both boys toward their bedroom. Austin, as always, is chattering excitedly about the match, asking Mason if he scored a goal, if he tackled anyone. And Aaron, quiet but equally engaged, is listening to every word.

Once in the boys’ room, Mason sets them down gently on the bed and tucks them under their blankets. He grabs the book from the bedside table and settles between the twins, flipping through the well-worn pages. You sit in the armchair by the door, watching as your husband leans back, Austin snuggled up against his side, and Aaron resting his head on Mason’s chest.

Mason begins reading, his voice calm and soothing. He’s always been a natural at this, slipping into the different voices for the characters, making both boys giggle and smile.

“‘A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood…’” Mason’s voice fills the room, and as he reads, you notice the way Austin hangs on every word, his eyes wide with awe. Meanwhile, Aaron’s eyes start to flutter shut, his small hand gripping Mason’s shirt.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you watch them. These moments, when Mason balances being both a football star and a father, always make you fall for him all over again. He’s so dedicated, not just to his career but to your family. The way he makes time, even after the toughest matches, just to ensure he’s there for the boys—it's enough to make your heart ache with love.

As Mason reaches the end of the story, both boys are nearly asleep. He closes the book and softly kisses Austin’s forehead, then Aaron’s. “Goodnight, little man,” he whispers to Austin, who’s already drifting off.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Austin murmurs sleepily, his hand still gripping Mason’s.

Mason then turns to Aaron, gently brushing a strand of hair off his face. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

Aaron, already half-asleep, mumbles, “Love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too,” Mason whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You stand, walking over to Mason as he slowly eases out of the bed, careful not to wake the boys. He slips his arm around your waist, and the two of you step out of the room quietly, closing the door behind you.

In the hallway, you turn to him, your heart full. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Mason looks at you with that familiar, boyish grin. “Just doing my best.”

You pull him into a hug, resting your head against his chest. His arms wrap around you tightly, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. In this moment, it’s just you, Mason, and the beautiful family you’ve built together.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you more,” he replies softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

And as you stand there, wrapped up in his arms, you know without a doubt that this—Mason rushing home to be with his boys, the bedtime stories, the quiet moments of love—is what true happiness looks like.

[accioscarheadthings]

I was wondering if you could do a Kenji Sato x a curvy goth girlfriend? I'd love to see how that dynamic would play out especially with Emi since the girlfriend looks absolutely terrifying but is actually a big sweetheart who just plays Emi lullabys using her guitar abs reads her Edgar Allan Poe Stories as bedtime stories

Yes, of course, love. I love writing about characters that give off black cat vibes but are a secret sunshine.

this turned out longer than i intended it to be 'cause i couldn't resist.

this was a bit rushed.

also you're my first request♡

I hope my writing lived up to your expectations. enjoy<33

Mama's here

pairing: kenji x gothic!curvy!gf!reader

this contains : fluff, reader and kenji parenting emi, use of petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, mama)

summary: you help your boyfriend take care of the baby kaiju he took in, and surprisingly bonding well with the creature.

masterlist !

"okay, sweetheart, promise me that you'll not freak out," kenji stood behind you on the elevator that led to his basement, "and you won't be mad at me," he rested his hands on your sides, palm splayed on your love handles.

you gave him a suspicious look over your back, "kenji sato, what did you do?"

"nothin' mama," he kissed your cheek fondly, knowing how soft that nickname got you, "also remember, i love you so much,"

you stared at him for a moment longer, wondering what on earth he was about to reveal to you.

when the elevator doors opened, you were met with a pink baby gigantron in a giant glass cage. it had yellow fins on the sides of its face and the top of its head. plump cheeks, curved yellow beak and round eyes.

it was fast asleep, its chest rising and falling in even breaths. it shifted lightly in its sleep, beak opening and closing in a yawn and a low trill escaped its throat.

as for you, you were still in shock, "son of a bitch!" your mouth fell open.

"shh! you'll wake her up," kenji silenced you, placing his hands on your shoudlers.

"no wonder you were sweet-talking our way down here!" you glared at him, resting your hands at your hips.

"mina," kenji glanced at the ai hovering above you, "back me up, maybe,"

"i was mad when i found out as well. so you're on your own in this one, kenji," mina retorted.

"geez, way to throw me under the bus," he mumbled, throwing his hands up at his sides in exasperation. he stepped closer to you, "look, i didn't know what else to do, okay? her mother-" he halted, lowering his voice so the baby kaiju wouldn't wake, "her mother died when the kdf intervened and tried to take them both down,"

your furious stance dropped at his statement, expression clearing, "oh shit,"

"yeah," he winced, taking a step closer to you, "i couldn't leave her. and i also don't know how to raise a baby," he raised his eyebrows your way in emphasis.

"you think i do?"

"i'm thinking you can help," he spoke, "hands wrapping around your body, his palms running up and down your sides, "please mama?" he blinked down at you with those pleading eyes you could never say no to.

your face twisted in contemplation, as you watched the baby kaiju sleep peacefully. you couldn't deny the spark of affection bloom in you for it.

"alright," you agreed reluctantly.

"yes! thank you!" he sighed, kissing all over your face, and finally on your lips, mouth devouring yours.

your face scrunched up due to his actions, the corner of your lips curving up in a smile. you kissed him back affectionately, resting a palm on the side of his neck.

when kenji pulled back, you noticed your lipstick smeared over his mouth.

this time, you grinned fully.

"what?" he blinked at you cluelessly, his bangs falling over his forehead just right. he was so captivated by your grin that he mirrored you.

you thumbed the stain from his lower lip, "you're a messy kisser, love,"

colour rose to his cheeks as your thumb tugged at his tainted lips, "s'okay. i like it when you leave your mark on me,"

rolling your eyes, you pursed your lips, trying not to be affected by his words.

kenji beamed when pecked his cheek, his hands snaking around your body and finding his place on the soft skin of your waist.

next morning, kenji made the due introductions between you and emi, helping you both be at ease in each other's presence.

kenji chuckled, noticing the baby gigantron's wariness of you. he reached out a hand and spoke soothingly, trying to calm the little creature. "hey girl," he said softly, "it's okay. don't be afraid of y/n here. she's not gonna hurt you. she may look intimidating, but she's a big softie,"

"i'm not a softie," you deadpanned to the side of his face, sending a smoldering look his way.

the baby gigantron chirped weakly, her beady eyes scanning every inch of you in caution.

you stood there, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, despite your dark, gothic appearance. the baby gigantron continued to eye you with some trepidation, its tiny claws grounded to the floor of the basement.

kenji took your hand in his, making you stand in front of him adn ugided your movements, "see? she's a good person,"

the baby gigantron hesitated for a moment, her beady eyes darting back and forth between you and kenji, her eyes taking in your proximity. then, slowly but surely, she inched closer to your outstretched hand.

as the she padded cautiously toward you both, it let out a soft chirrup sound. she seemed intrigued by you, her wariness slowly melting away as she realized you was trustworthy.

kenji moved your hand slowly, maintaining a soothing tone as he made you gently stroke the baby gigantron's soft pink head.

she let out a soft, contented chitter in response, her round eyes closing briefly in delight.

kenji looked back at you with a small smile, "see, babe? she's warming up to you," he said, his voice hushed to avoid startling the creature.

you felt the tension escape you as the kaiju baby leaned into your touch, her body relaxed and trusting. she seemed to have completely forgotten its earlier apprehension of you.

"that's right," kenji urged, "it's just mommy," he referred to you, "she's not gonna hurt you,"

you gave him a weird look, "i'm not her mother, kenji!"

"i'm her daddy, which means you're her mommy,"

as you moved your hand, the baby gigantron perked up at the sound of your bracelet clinking against her head. her eyes widened with curiosity, and it made a soft, inquisitive sound in contemplation, tipping its head to the side.

she seemed to find the sound and the sensation of your touch amusing, and she continued to let you pet her without any further trepidation.

the baby gigantron let out a series of soft, playful chirps, her tiny claws gently batting at your bracelets as she sought to explore the shiny metallic objects even further.

you let out a chuckle at her adorable actions, giving into her as you shook your wrist playfully, making the charms on your wrist jingle with each other.

you were seated on the table at the far end of the basement, flipping through your guitar notes and arranging the sheets in order. 

"get back here," kenji panted, "right now, missy!" he was in ultraman form, struggling to grab hold of the baby kaiju, but she kept dodging him, running between his legs as she giggled her heart out.

kenji mostly took care of the bathing and burping part. while you handled feeding her, turning it into an airplane game.

the baby kaiju cooed at your antics, slowly getting closer to you that she needed to see you every day. you watched over her when kenji went for his games.

you both would watch the broadcast together; you would explain the game to her while the baby kaiju would listen to you in childlike wonder.

kenji came back home from a win, his legs moving as quick as possible as he enveloped you in a giant hug. he snuggled his face into your neck, letting out a breath of ease. you held him against your chest, one hand burying into the back of his head.

kenji struggled to balance baby kaiju care and baseball. without enough rest, he underperformed. but your companionship and support made days easier. your influence helped him manage his roles better and continue pursuing his passion for the game.

he mumbled a bunch of 'thank you' and 'couldn't have done it without you' against your neck, hands wandering your body, grabbing at the softness and worshipping you.

"you were amazing," you brought his face to yours, kissing his forehead in pride.

"mm, thanks babe,"

as you and kenji shared your loving words, the baby gigantron, who was watching intently, couldn't help but let out a soft, curious 'coo' sound.

the little creature seemed to be attracted by the affectionate exchange between you and kenji, drawn in by the gentle words and the laughter that accompanied it.

her beady eyes glittered with interest, and she inched closer to you both, her small paws making no sound on the smooth floor.

she seemed to be attempting to get a closer look at the interaction, intrigued by the emotional connection between you two.

when the baby kaiju fractured her hand after escaping the mansion, kenji called for his father, not knowing who else to ask for help.

professor sato greeted you when he noticed you at the baby kaiju's side, mumbling soothing words of comfort.

she whined at you in pain, eyes closing when you caressed the scales of her tummy. you felt your heart tug at the sight, "you poor thing. it's okay. everything will be okay,"

professor sato jerked her displaced bone back into place, causing her to screech in pain. the baby kaiju leaned into your touch, crying out into you.

professor sato had named the baby kaiju "emi," after his late wife, which added a special touch to the bond you and Kenji had formed with the small creature.

he kindly offered to assist you and his son in raising the tiny creature, knowing you both could use his expertise.

emi grew fond of your guitar sessions. whenever you strummed the strings, her gaze would fixate on you.

she loved it so much that she seemed to ditch her usual rhymes that frequently annoyed kenji.

she was completely enthralled by the music, captivated by the sound and the way your fingers moved across the instrument.

you would sit on the high rise stool with your legs crossed with your guitar nestled in your lap.

emi's eyes widened in amazement, her gaze fixed on your fingers as they moved across the strings, producing beautiful music.

she would clap her hands together in enjoyment, seated obidiently on the ground in front of you.

sometimes, you would lay on the floor on your back, your guitar resting against your chest. with a soft and contemplative expression, you began strumming random chords, creating an impromptu and soothing melody.

emi would be stretched out beside you in a similar manner, her tiny body imitating your position. her eyes fluttered shut, seemingly entranced by the sound of the guitar and the rhythmic strums of your fingers across the strings.

you also began to read bedtime stories to her, pulling out your collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories collection.

the lights in the dimly lit basement were on, but the atmosphere was serene and soothing. kenji walked in, letting out a yawn and taking in the scene before him.

you were leaning against emi's tummy, knees propped, while emi laid on her side behind you, her claw nail resting on your lap for you to hold. you read the story aloud for her while she trilled in relaxation.

"gothic horror, for a baby kaiju?" kenji questioned, "seems a bit intense, doesn't it?" he said, his tone teasing.

"what, she likes it," you shrugged, "don't you, honey?" you asked the kaiju baby.

emi cooed in reply, as if to agree with you.

"it may help her out when she gets to the wild," you added, "you'll never know,"

kenji approached you, shaking his head slightly in mock defeat. He knew he would never win against your arguments. he settled down on the floor next to you and laid his head in your lap, a small sigh escaping him.

you ran your fingers through his hair, continuing your story for your two babies.

soft snores reached your ear and you stopped reading out loud, smiling to yourself. the story had done its work and caused both emi and kenji to drift off.

you continued to run your fingers through Kenji's hair, your gentle touch lulling him further into relaxation.

soon enough, soft snores filled the room, signaling that both he and the baby kaiju were fast asleep.

emi curled her body, getting closer to you, while kenji passed out on your lap, face resting on your thick thighs.

a smile tugged at your lips as you realized that your story had worked its magic, sending both of your babies into a peaceful slumber.

you returned home after a few hours of running errands, feeling frustrated and annoyed due to a particular inconvenience that had occurred.

when you entered the manor, you were met with a mixture of distressed wails and hollering, followed by a loud crashing sound.

kenji approached you immediately, looking harried, "there you are. Emi has been crying nonstop since you left," he said, his voice taut with concern.

as if on cue, the mansion quaked, and the distant cries of emi echoed through the halls. you followed the sound down to the basement, where you found the baby kaiju in the middle of a tantrum.

her cries were loud and piercing, and she was swatting at everything around her in a fit of anger. it was clear that she was upset about your absence and was manifesting her feelings through the tantrum.

professor sato, with the help of a walking stick, approached you as you entered the basement. "hello, y/n," he greeted warmly.

when you replied, emi abruptly stopped crying and her beady eyes locked onto you.

professor sato chuckled, noticing how quickly she responded to your presence. "looks like you were what she wanted," he said with a smile and motioned for you to come closer.

emi squealed lowly as you got closer to her. she made grabby hands at you, face pouting and cheeks drawing downwards.

"emi, baby-" you let out a yelp of surprise as emi pulled you to her belly, holding you there delicately as she snuggled her pudgy cheek on your head.

you were pressed against her body, looking like a starfish, all splayed out. the affection from the kaiju baby melted your heart and you snuggled into her hold.

"it's okay, honey... uh, mama's here," you added hesitantly.

emi cooed and you smiled wide against her scaly tummy, letting her warmth embrace you.

[beiasluv]

i think a lot about being the manager of dilf alonso and how he's constantly making you take care of his child as an extension of taking care of him but really he just wants to see you and his child together🧑‍🦯

Girlieee I’m OBSESSED with your co-parenting series 🤭🤭🫶🫶 muawhh

“Portate bien con ella ¿vale?” Behave well with her, okay? Fernando ruffled the mini Spaniard, ordering him to behave while his father is going to do a session of sim.

“Sí Papá.”

“Don’t forget to ask her okay?” Then he kissed his son on the forehead and jogged away. “Te amo.” I love you

He really doesn’t mind leaving his only son with the most trustworthy person in his life. Especially when you treat him so well.

And don’t get him wrong, the job was hectic itself but you never complained about having little Alonso tagging along. Basically he’s glued to your sides. Two wide eyes blinking at whoever decided to intrude your personal space beside him.

Just give him a little time to warm up and you’ll find yourself a little menace like his father.

But, of course, he’s an angel for you.

“Yn?” Little Alonso tugged at your shirt.

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay? Papá said you could stay over for the weekend,” he said as he deliberately licked the ice cream you brought him a few minutes ago.

“Honey.” You sighed softly. “I have an important thing– but– I’ll promise to be back.”

“Really? But…Papá– he would be really sad–”

“Papá is a strong man, really,” you brushed his curls back. “He’ll survive.”

“Plwease? Yn? I like your bedtime stories. Pleaseee?”

“…Fine.”

Can you say no to those puppies eyes you swore you’ve seen somewhere. Right. His father.

Just when you hugged the happy, little boy, you missed his little thumbs up to the older Alonso.

Sneaky Spaniards.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

meet-cute

okayyyy so here is something short n shitty on these new pics that my brain whipped up! tell me if you like this!

words: 1.3k~ish

warnings: flirting, fluff.

***

You loved coming out to this little nook to capture scenes of the city on canvas. Today felt especially inspiring with the beautiful spring weather.

You begin laying out your brushes and squeezing out vibrant shades of paint onto your palette. Losing yourself in the simple motions, you barely notice the passersby around you. That is, until a very familiar voice pipes up from behind.

"Excuse me, miss? Your paintings are absolutely lovely."

You freeze, brush hovering in the air. No, it couldn't be... Slowly, you turn around and your jaw drops. There, flashing his signature dimpled grin, stands Harry Styles himself. Your ultimate celebrity crush in the flesh, mere feet away.

"H-Harry? Harry Styles?" you stammer out, eyes wide.

He chuckles softly. "The one and only. I'm out on a morning stroll and I couldn't help but stop to admire your work. You've got a brilliant talent there."

Your cheeks flush bright pink. "Oh my gosh, thank you! You're—you're really here. I can't believe it!" 

Trying not to completely fangirl and scare him off, you take a deep breath to collect yourself. Harry Styles is complimenting your art. This is actually happening.

"Sorry, I'm just—wow, I'm such a huge fan of yours. Your music means so much to me."

He smiles warmly. "I'm glad you enjoy it, love. Say, would you maybe be interested in doing a little commission for me? Painting my portrait?"

You nearly drop your palette right then and there. "You want me to paint you? Like, really?"

"If you're up for it, yeah! I'd be honoured."

Nodding fervently, you scramble to set up a fresh canvas on your easel. "Yes, absolutely! I'd love to! Just...just tell me how you'd like to pose." 

As Harry arranges himself into a relaxed seated position, you take a moment to study his striking features. From the soft chestnut curls framing his face to those entrancing emerald eyes, he is perfect subject material. Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest.

"Okay, perfect, just like that. Stay right there and I'll get started!"

You take a steadying breath before putting brush to canvas, carefully mapping out Harry's form in broad strokes. The two of you fall into an easy back-and-forth conversation as you work, chatting about everything from his latest album to your shared hometown.

"I've gotta say, your Cheshire accent is pretty damn charming," Harry remarks at one point with a playful wink.

You giggle shyly. "Why thank you, kind sir. Yours isn't too bad either."

Harry throws back his head with a deep, raspy chuckle that has your toes curling in your shoes. "Is that so, darling? Well in that case..." He leans in close enough for you to smell his intoxicating cologne, voice lowering to a sultry murmur. "Perhaps later you'll allow me to read you a bedtime story?"

"Harry!" you gasp in flustered exasperation, half-heartedly swatting his arm as he cackles victoriously. The two of you are so caught up in your playful banter that you barely notice the small crowd starting to gather, whispering and snapping photos as word spreads that the one and only Harry Styles is getting his portrait done.

Harry waves jovially at his fans but remains focused on you, keeping up the easy banter.

"How's it looking over there, Picasso? Doing me justice?"

Glancing up, you smirk. "Well, it's hard to improve upon perfection, but I'm giving it my best shot."

He smiles, and swears he felt his heart skip a beat at your words. "Such flattery! And here I thought you were just a pretty face with those big doe eyes."

You roll said eyes dramatically as your cheeks flush. "Oh, stop trying to put me off, you flirt!"

Over the next little while, you alternate between studying Harry's striking features with lazer-like intensity and flushing furiously whenever he catches you staring. At one point, he pointedly clears his throat.

"You know, most artists usually start on the face when doing portraits," he remarks with a teasing lilt.

Cheeks flaming again, you force your gaze away from the rippling muscles of his forearms where you'd been fixated like a teenager. "Hush you, I'm simply taking my time with the background work first."

"If you say so," he chuckles but obediently returns to stillness, allowing you to slowly build up brushstrokes on the canvas.

Time seems to fly by as your brush strokes bring Harry's image vibrantly to life on the canvas. The swarm of onlookers grows steadily bigger, phones clicking away to document the scene. Several times you have to politely ask people not to get too close and obstruct your view.

With one last few delicate strokes to bring out the shine in Harry's eyes, you finally lean back with a satisfied smile.

"Well, Mr. Styles...what do you think?"

Harry rises from his pose and steps over to admire your handiwork, lips parting in an impressed grin.

"Wow...Y/N, this is incredible! You captured me perfectly!"

You beam proudly, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his praise. "I had some pretty gorgeous subject matter to work with."

Chuckling, Harry carefully plucks the canvas from the easel. "You've definitely earned your payment and then some. Name your price, love."

After some back-and-forth haggling that has the crowd laughing, Harry hands over a generous sum of cash and pulls you in for a warm hug.

"Truly, thank you for this. I'll cherish it forever!"

You bite your lip shyly as he pulls away. "You're more than welcome. Can't say I mind immortalizing that handsome face on canvas."

Harry tosses you one last wink before turning to greet his clamoring fans, the sea of people quickly engulfing him and carrying him off down the street.

As he's shuffled away, Harry feels a pang of disappointment that he didn't get a chance to ask for your number or make plans to see you again. He spent the whole time shamelessly flirting and getting flustered by your adorable blushes and quips. Now he may never get the opportunity to take you out on an actual date.

Once he's finally escorted into his awaiting car, Harry lets out a frustrated huff and runs a hand through his tousled hair. He'd been so wrapped up in your captivating presence that he didn't even think to get your contact information before being mobbed. Rookie mistake.

"Stupid, stupid," he mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Just as he's resigning himself to having let a potential connection slip through his fingers, something catches Harry's eye. He glances down at the canvas you had been painting him on, safely tucked onto the seat beside him, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

There, just peeking out from the backside wrapped around the frame, is a scribbled set of numbers. Hurriedly, Harry flips over the painting to inspect further. He lets out a delighted laugh at what he finds.

It's a phone number! Trailing below it in your handwriting are the words "In case you need your portrait updated ;) -Y/N"

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[reallyromealone]

Title: fae love

Fandom: none

Characters: original character (orc), reader

Fic type: nsfw, story

Pairings: orc x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, nsfw, smut, reader has some description, boy pussy term used, reader is a fae, chaotic reader

Notes: I thought I posted this but I didn't, this is super indulgent, and yeah. Normally this would go through Patreon first but I'm feeling kind

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(name) smiled as he was carried by the giant orc that was his mate, a towering ten feet tall to (name) 's five feet four inches, the pretty fae kissing the orc's olive cheek sweetly as they went back to their farm, a sweet little farm in the woods outside of town "I told you no more fires in non agreed fireplaces" he said gruffly to (name) who just smiled "you're the one who chose to become fated mates with me~"

The Orc sighed, looking at the gold ring on (name) 's finger and the wedding necklace, indeed he chose (name) for marriage, he did love his chaotic husband.

(Name) often treated his husband like a jungle gym, the tiny fae usually resting on his shoulder as he went about things and used his magic for various tasks "My love, please... You're awful at cooking" he swatted (name)s hand away when (name) tried to help by adding flower petals to the stew "but they make the stew look magical ~!" Was (name) 's reasoning as he watched the other stir the rabbit and vegetable soup "I added extra (vegetable), magical enough?" The orc gently kissed the other calf, tusks grazing (name) 's flesh, and (name) giggled "You romantic~"

(Name) always sat in his husband's lap when they ate and spoke about their days, (name) in the woods building little homes for the mouse village as they wanted to expand--- thankfully their building supplies were primarily popsicle sticks, the Orc gladly letting his love do that, especially since the mouse folk traded for mushrooms and herbs they find, it also kept (name) from causing mischief amongst the fae wilds, the two living outside the fae wild portal ring and often seeing passerbys that (name) would prank (read: setting their shoes on fire).

It was always a serene affair.

Well for (name).

When bedtime came, (name) carefully took off his jewelry as did his husband, removing any makeup for the night against the candlelight "Oh..." (Name) whispered as he felt his love's large hards easily spread his legs, rubbing the inside of his thighs "been energetic these days, causing problems..." The orc said as (name) leaned into his broad chest and felt the other large cock against his ass "Have no output for this energy..." (Name) said back breathlessly as he already imagined the sweet stretch of the other cock "need something... Big to help me relax" he cooed and grinned impishly when his large husband tossed him on the giant bed, something they invested in long ago.

The orc pulled down his pants, large girthy cock erect and heavy, a deep red tip that slowly turned green "pretty.." fourteen inches that (name) couldn't help but feel giddy as he crawled to the other and gently took the others cock in his hands, kissing the tip sweetly as he stroked the shaft with both hands, taking the tip into his mouth as he gently placed his hands on his abdomen and a womb tattoo appeared, already using magic to keep his body intact so the other could fill him fully, essentially an infinity spell to not kill him.

The taste of pre-cum made (name) hazy, fae pre-cum and the likes were aphrodisiacs, (name) 's eyes heavy as the effects of the tattoo began "Gonna take me well... Always do" the orc grumbled as he watched (name) stroke him off and trying to take him but sadly he just couldn't fit him in, not without using magic to warp his body.

And last time that happened it was horrific when he let (name) do the magic using.

Jaw unhinging and face distorting...the poor orc couldn't look at his husband the same for a week.

"Lemme see that ass" (name) let himself be manhandled into his husband's hold, upside down as he held onto the other cock while being held in the air, letting out a shaky breath when he felt his loves tongue lick from his balls to his ass and circling his hot tongue around the rim as (name) shakily stroked the orcs cock as his husband's long tongue went down to curl around (name)s cock, average in size but tiny to the massive orc who felt the aphrodisiac affects himself as his large fingers pushed into (name)s ass.

(Name) Whined and moaned as he felt himself fall apart, clinging onto the other's cock like a lifeline as his ass was finger fucked and his cock licked methodically "Please... Need it..." He needed that itch scratched, yelping when his husband smacked his ass "Behave" the other grunted as his tusks scraped (name)s lower ass cheeks.

(Name) Was manhandled onto his back, for a moment he felt giddy thinking he was getting the other big cock but let out a loud cry as his husband's index middle and ring finger fucked his ass aggressively, veins showing up on the orc's arms as he fucked as hard as he could against (name)s prostate as (name) climaxed hard but the other continued fucking through his climax, watching intensely.

He could barely muster words, the two having a safe word as their sessions got... Intense so the mewls of "stop" and "I can't!" Fell on deaf ears as the orc grinned at his lover's fucked out expression as he slowly pulled his wet fingers out "Your little ass-pussy is ready... You good there baby boy?" He asked as (name) whined "please..." (Name) Begged as he let his husband kiss him slowly, lining his giant cock to (name)s poor entrance and pushing in, shushing his whined at the sensation. no matter how many times they did it, it still stung as the orc slowly bottomed out.

"You did so good, my love" the orc soothed him as he let (name) adjust, no matter how much prep the sweet face needed to adjust for a few minutes as his body twitched helplessly "Big..." (Name) Whined as he felt his husband kiss stray tears.

The two stayed like this for a few moments before (name) gave the ok and the other slowly began thrusting, pushing out to the tip and pushing in, with each thrust he slowly picked up speed. "Oh! Fuck!" (Name) Gasped as he felt the other's balls slap against his ass, hips bruising as he was fucked like a doll.

"More!"

"Yes!"

"O-oh!"

Climaxes and moans, scratches and bites were all the things that (name) got and gave as his legs stretched with a slight burn, riding his beloved as his wings stretched out, previously hidden with magic as a harsh climax rolled through and the dust from his wings lifting them slightly "yes! Fuck me with that cock!" (Name) Scratched down the other's chest as he developed more fae features, unable to keep his magic back.

"Gonna cum in that pretty hole, take it all!" (Name) Collapsed as he was stuffed, stomach bulging as his husband filled his belly with cum.

"There... Keep you from setting trees on fire for a few days..."

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Twelve

— Little Big Relationships

Series Masterlist

wc: 2.1k

"Max? Isabella?" You called out as you entered your home, hearing nothing but silence in return.

As you continued walking inside, you heard some giggles coming from Isabella's room that were muffled because the door was closed.

Knocking once, you opened the door and were faced with an intriguing scene. They were sitting on a kiddy table, which was the perfect size for Isabella but too little for Max; however, he compromised by sitting half on the chair and half kneeling on the floor.

"Hold it like this, Maxy, your pinky has to point out," Isabella instructed while demonstrating it herself. You slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle a chuckle when you noticed the little teacups in their hands as Isabella attempted to teach Max how to act at a tea party.

"C'mon Maxy, stick your pinky out," you joked, instantly catching their attention. Isabella beamed at you, "mama, look," she gestured to the little setup they had going on. Max, however, froze in place but after a moment a small smile grew on his face as he purposely pointed his pinky outwards with an exaggerated motion.

"Join us, mama," Isabella suggested or more so instructed. You obliged, pulling the little chair closer to your daughter and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before taking the teacup she held out for you.

"Did you know that Maxy has two cats, mama?" Isabella asked, a glimmer shining in her eyes at her words. Your daughter had always wanted a cat, but because the responsibility would be too much for her, you always refused or advised her to at least wait until she was older.

Nodding along, you looked at Max who had showed you many pictures of Jimmy and Sassy. "Yeah, when we go over to Max's house, we can see them okay?" You proposed, and Isabella glanced at Max for an answer, to which he replied, "Of course!"

While Isabella poured more pretend tea in your cup, your gaze met Max's, filled with a tad bit of vulnerability that neither of you no longer feared to share.

Max has spent the majority of his time in Monaco, or at least he used to, because he has been spending more time with you and Isabella in your home that he would normally spend in his apartment across the world. He'd rather have you than an empty apartment with no hesitation. But lately, he's been picturing his apartment filled with the sounds of your daughter's laughter as the three of you make a mess in the kitchen while attempting to bake.

He wasn't opposed to it at all, and a part of him knew that you would love the suggestion as well. However, your relationship with him is kept under wraps, with the only person you've told is your best friend. You don't necessarily want to keep it a secret, but the reason you are is quite obvious; your daughter.

Although Isabella has suspicions of Max's involvement in your day to day lives, she hasn't openly questioned it yet. The reality is, you don't know how to tell her you're in a relationship with Max since you're not sure how she'll react. A part of you believes it will elicit a positive response, but another half wonders if she would object to it.

You pushed your thoughts away to the back of your mind once Max broke eye contact with you since your daughter nudged him. Gesturing for him to come closer, Isabella whispered in his ear and you watched with a slight tilt of your head and a smile threatening to grow on your face.

Max nodded to her words, and Isabella looked at you with a smile she only uses when she wants something. "Mama?" she started.

"Yes, angel?" She glanced at Max for reassurance and when he nodded again, she spoke, "can Maxy stay over?"

You were taken aback by her words, especially with the thoughts that were running through your mind. "You mean a sleepover?"

Isabella nodded, "yes! We'll have so much fun, mama. We can play games, eat snacks, oh and I want Maxy to read my bedtime story to me too." You smiled as she listed out everything she wanted to do, knowing that she had already planned it earlier so it would be easier to convince you. However, she had no idea that you weren't opposed to the idea at all and needed no such convincing.

She looked at you with anticipation, her smile only growing wider when you nodded. "We can have a sleepover with Max."

She cheered, throwing her arms up and then wrapping them around Max. "Oh wait, I forgot something," she left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Max in confusion.

Max took that opportunity to lean over the table and press a kiss to your cheek. You threaded your fingers through his hair, resting it on the back of his head to pull him in for a proper kiss.

"How did it go?" He asked once he leaned back into the chair, almost falling backwards due to his weight. "I think I made a friend."

After your nap with Max yesterday, you awoke to a text from Emma asking if you wanted to meet for coffee. You decided to go after discussing with Max regarding the pros and cons of what could happen. The only drawback was that Emma was Tyler's girlfriend; otherwise, you wouldn't have any doubts about meeting her.

However, your decision to go meant you would have to leave Isabella in Max's care for a few hours. The only issue you faced was that if you didn't want your ex's partner to babysit your daughter, you shouldn't let your own boyfriend babysit Isabella either. It would be unfair to both of them.

Max, being Max, went right to Isabella and asked if she was comfortable with staying with him for a few hours, which she easily agreed to. He then gave you a smile that only meant one thing, "problem solved."

—

"The last time we met wasn't under the right circumstances, so I figured we should redo it," Emma stated as you sat down with your coffee at one of the few empty tables amid the many occupied ones.

"I agree. Also, I don't think I'll be able to thank you enough for what you did for my daughter that night." Emma shook her head, "no worries, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat," she said before adding, "not that I want her to have another allergic reaction."

The initial awkwardness of this friendly meeting stemmed from the individual who was the reason for the introduction between you two. However, the conversation evolved significantly after that.

"Oh, I have to ask, that guy you with at the hospital, are you dating him?" Emma asked, and you nodded. "We actually weren't dating then, but we are now."

She nodded along and just smiled while looking at you. Tilting your head, you asked, "why?"

"Nothing, it's just that it looked like you were together then, based on his actions and how worried he was for both you and Isabella," she explained, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks. Max was always kind to you from the minute you met him, but learning that someone else had observed your relationship was slightly surprising.

"It's still new, I guess we're just figuring it out as we go, especially with Isabella around," you admitted openly, seeing no reason to hold back from her. You were cautious about Emma before seeing her today, but you realized there was no reason to be. She would easily become a good friend, and the fact that you knew her through Tyler would no longer matter.

"She doesn't know?" Emma inquired and hummed when you shook your head. "I don't mean to intrude, but how did you and Tyler tell her?" You asked, wanting some pointers on what to do, or even what you shouldn't do.

She scoffs, "it was probably the worst way ever, just casually dropping it in a conversation, good riddance though."

You had to hold back from wincing however you don't think you did a good job based on her reaction. "Yeah, it was odd, don't do that."

"Good riddance?" You asked, unsure of what she meant. "I broke up with him," she stated bluntly, taking you aback. "Oh." For a moment you were speechless, mainly to gauge Emma's reaction on the situation before you decide on saying anything.

She sighed, "you don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, it was a long time coming."

You wanted to know more details, not because he was your ex and now hers too, but because Emma was now a friend. Without having to utter a word, she began to explain the reason.

"I was skeptical about dating him at first when he told me about Isabella, because I initially thought that his time and attention would be split between us," she started, and you nodded along.

"But, I didn't think that he wouldn't give either of us any time at all. He wasn't always like that, I wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise but he became too consumed in work."

"Arguments were inevitable, but I didn't think it would happen that often. Sometimes I would find Isabella sitting in her room with her eyes closed and hands covering her ears because of his words. That's when I realized that he wasn't worth my love and time, or even his daughter's," she finished and your heart hurt with the image of how Isabella used to spend so many of her days and nights at Tyler's house.

"I hope Isabella doesn't stay over at his anymore," Emma stated, but you quickly shook your head. "No, she hasn't stayed over after the allergy incident, plus she's said it herself that she doesn't want to anymore."

"Anyways, he is your ex for a reason and now he's also my ex, so here's to finding better men who are worth our time," Emma proposed, holding up her half empty coffee cup as if it were an alcoholic drink and you chuckled while agreeing with her.

"I think I already found mine," you shyly admitted. "And I am very happy for you!"

"I just don't know how to tell Bella about it," you stated, and she held up a finger to tell you to hold on as she quickly sipped on her drink. "Does he come around often?" Emma asked.

“Very often,” you chuckled. “And does she like having him around?” You thought about it for a second, recalling the latest moments you've shared together. "She does get very excited about it, never complained about having him around."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, as long as you sit down and explain it to her, I think she'll be fine. After all, she is your daughter, very kind and understanding," Emma concluded.

—

“So you want to tell Isabella?” Max asked after you gave him a summary of your conversations with Emma. You shrugged, “what do you think?”

“I’m okay with anything you choose to do, baby, we can wait or we can tell her now,” he stated. “I don’t want her to find out from someone else, especially since we’re going to the next race,” you reasoned.

Max’s eyes lit up, “you’re coming?” Chuckling, you nodded, “my boyfriend’s racing, I think I should be there to support him.”

Max didn’t hesitate to scoot his chair over towards you, “plus, there’s a chance that I might win my third championship at that race,” he added. Your jaw dropped, “what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Well, I didn’t want it to pressure you into travelling if you didn’t want to but I’m very glad you’re going to be there with me,” he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Max, have I told you how sweet you are?”

He hummed, “I think I can hear it again.”

Before you could utter a word, Isabella entered the room again, this time with a frown on her face. Max leaned away from you, trying to subtly move back.

“Angel, where did you go?” You asked, and invited her to sit in your lap which she easily agreed to.

“I went to find my teddy, but I think I left it at daddy’s,” she meekly responded. “Aw, it’s okay, we’ll get him back soon,” you suggested while brushing her hair out of her face with your fingers.

“But Mr. Bear will miss my tea party, mama, and he never missed it before,” she stressed. “We can host as many tea parties as you want when we find him,” Max suggested.

Isabella still had a frown on her face but she agreed with a small nod.

You glanced at Max, and with his reassurance, you began an important conversation with your daughter that could possibly change the trajectory of your relationship with Max.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König Part 3

Part One Part Two

It's only after THREE MONTHS in that you find out his name isn't Kevin

Why? You overheard a phone call. A phone call with his mom

Because, to put it in small terms: König is a mama's boy

Not in the gross way that boy moms do (everyone say EWWWW) or the manchildren who think their mom can do no wrong and will always side with her over on everything. We know those guys. He's not that. Not even close

No, in the 'he genuinely loves and cares about his mother because this is the person who raised him so his respect for her and love is absolutely profound'

That's the woman who raised him, that's the person who read him bedtime stories at night when he couldn't sleep, that's the lovely lady who would let him hide behind her skirts when she'd take him into the village and people would try to say hi, she's the one and only who taught him all about the many wonders of the world and how beautiful nature is

Yeah, he's going to respect her. He loves his mom and for good reason

He calls her every day if possible because she still lives quite far away in Austria :( and things haven't been the same since his dad passed away

He doesn't live near or with her, as much as it pains him, because quite frankly: he can't risk it. He still visits as much as he can, but living with her makes her a target because he's a man with blood covering his hands and there's people who will do anything to get to him

He can't risk her like that, wouldn't ever dream of it

She understands. He doesn't tell her the extent because he can't break her heart and he's afraid she might see him different, but he does tell her HOW dangerous it could be

He will always tell her about the good things he does, though! Like saving hostages! That's always great. She's so proud of him

He might be a grown ass man at 6'7" and weighing over 250 lbs that absolutely towers over her but he will always be her sweet baby boy before anything else

He is always writing her letters and sending her packages and pictures! Letters just are more heartfelt usually and she's old fashioned, she likes having something physical to hang onto especially now that her eyesight is fading

She is always sending them in return too. His favorite coffee mugs are all shaped like little forest animals and she made them! They're precious and he's so happy holding his little hedgehog mug (even if it is a bit spiky)

ANYWAYS how you found out his name wasn't Kevin was because you heard her use his name

His real name

That wasn't Kevin or even close.

And afterwards you had to go "... uh... Kevin? Who is she talking about?"

König has never been close to this flustered before, even when you fell asleep with your head on his broad shoulders when you were watching a movie together

Time to fess up.

He at first tries to go into denial, then dismissal, but it doesn't work at all

He admits defeat. You caught him, he ISN'T Kevin. Well, he's still the same person! That's just not his name

He was too embarrassed to correct you or himself so he went with it and it kept building and building

He wanted to tell you, but it's a hard topic :( he knows he would have stumbled and stuttered over his words until he fell flat on his face

You'd find it out eventually! It's not like he put 'Kevin' on his mail or anything like that

Now, most people would rightfully feel mad and lied to

But he's turning red enough to match the roses he grows and can't seem to meet your eyes. He's sweating bullets, he's genuinely embarrassed here and feels awful about it

Maybe it's against better judgement to accept such a thing so easily but he hasn't been anything but nice to you ever since you broke down his icy walls.

(Aka he's so painfully socially awkward and flustered you feel bad for him and take pity)

And just maybe you heard the "Ich bin in dich verliebt" slip out as you took his hands in yours and assured that you liked him as him, whether he's named Kevin or not, and nothing would change that

[star2fishmeg]

can you share some of your Luke recs?

Of course! I may have gone a bit overboard but I just love love love all these fics and their authors so so much. I highly recommend all these writers and their blogs, from the nsfw to the sfw, I couldn't stress how highly I respect and recommend them enough:

≡ᴍᴇɢ's ʟᴜᴋᴇ ʜᴜɢʜᴇs ғɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄs

—SMUT

♥ again by @hhughes (you can find her on @bedsyandco now I think) ➥ I frequently find myself going back to this one, the way Cami has written it is just so addicting and it's so hot.

♥ the mortifying ordeal of being a 20 year old virgin by @theemporium ➥ This series is hard as hell, literally love it. Each chapter is just divine and I love Luke and reader's dynamic, it's so juicy and with every new chapter, I think I literally heel click and do a jig.

♥ escape from la by @eyesthatroll ➥ Another one I go back to often, still think about it to this day actually, I just picture it vividly and it gives me butterflies every time.

♥ locker room by @lucijawriteswords ➥ Words cannot describe how much of a chokehold this one has on me. Angry Luke is so hot and I can't stop thinking about the imagery and I want this so bad.

♥ those sleepless nights - @wineauntie ➥ I present to you; my bedtime story. Sleepy smut is just so yummy, you know? And I just wanted Luke wrapped around me after I read this, I now go back to it when it's some silly hour of the morning.

♥ stress reduction by @goldfades ➥ Bro I cannot begin to explain how many times I've read this one. Short and sweet and so sensual, I want it. You'll literally read it and feel something.

♥ risqué reflections by @sweetestdesire ➥ This is the place for filth and I'm a loyal customer. This fic had me doing deep breaths and GOD it's so yummy. Read it once and then went back because the buzz it gave me.

♥ the green eyed monster by @puck-luck ➥ Jealousy has never looked hotter on a man. I remember reading this one morning before uni and yeah let's say I wasn't thinking about my class that day. Andy went all in with this and Jesus it was hot as fuck.

—FLUFF

♥ he's been a bit of a jerk by @quinnylouhughesx43 ➥ I've never liked the winter more, I need Luke to come find my lonely ass and kiss me too. This was too cute honestly and the second part is just as good. Recommend reading them back-to-back.

♥ too tall by @toasttt11 ➥ Anything to do with height differences has me in shambles and this was so cute. I just love the image of Luke standing in the kitchen at 12am like a deer in headlights.

♥ uh oh by @be4chywritez ➥ The Curtis-Luke rivalry will always make me giggle and even funnier with the sneaking around trope, I adored this and the locker room scene. The whole thing is so cute and lighthearted.

♥ jelly on a plate by @wineauntie ➥ I dislike the process of flying so this was a really comforting read and I love it so much. It's adorable and reassuring at the same time and if you're not a fan of flying, I really recommend having Luke with you in spirit.

♥ my princess by @lvrhughes ➥ No because this one's fun and fresh and adorable. Something about drunken nights will always get me, especially when it's one looking after the other. Filled my heart with warmth.

♥ caught by @ifimdreaming ➥ Love this one a lot, it's funny and cute. It perfectly portrays siblings having an argument and Trevor making an appearance will always be funny. Luke is just too cute and love me protective Luke.

♥ kiss her you fool by @withwritersblock ➥ Tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers and just pining and that's my cup of tea. Loverboy Luke has you aching for him to be honest and you'll wish you were y/n and so much touching that has you tingling.

♥ "are you awake yet?" blurb by @bedsyandco @hhughes ➥ I wish I had this in my life, honestly. Read this and you wish you did too. It's so sweet it makes me kick my feet and twirl my hair, run laps around my room, go through my Luke Pinterest board. I love the way Cami writes Luke.

[wolverigrl]

This scene as a story 🥵

Interrupted

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I love all the requests and hope there will be even more, especially for Logan ;)

Warnings: some swearing here and there, light smut

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

It's been a long few weeks, but tonight feels different. I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, my legs tucked under me, chatting with Oscar. He's such a good kid - always curious, always with something nteresting to say. Ava's on the carpet nearby, completely engrossed in her blocks, humming to herself as she builds some colorful tower. It's one of those rare peaceful moments.

"You think Dad's movie is doing well?" Oscar asks, his voice thoughtful as he tosses the football between his hands.

"Oh, absolutely!" I smile. "Your dad's been working so hard. The movie will be amazing!"

Oscar nods, looking proud but a little distant. It's been a few weeks since Hugh started his promotion tour, and even though he's come iome as often as he can, the house eels different without him.

Just then, the front door opens, and I hear the familiar sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor.

"Hey! Daddy's home!" Hugh's voice echoes through the hallway

Ava jumps up, abandoning her blocks, "Daddy!" she squeals, running toward him. Oscar and I exchange a smile, and I stand up to meet Hugh as well. He steps into the living room, arms open wide, scooping up Ava as she collides with him. He looks tired but happy, his face lighting up the moment he sees us.

"Hey, there's my beautiful family!" he says warmly and kissing Ava on the forehead before setting her down. His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I feel my heart skip. Even after all these years, the way he looks at me still does something.

"Hey, you.." I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms encircle my waist, pulling me close as our lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss. It's brief, but enough to make me miss him all over again.

"Missed you."

"I missed you more." he murmurs against my lips before stepping back and ruffling Oscar's hair.

"How's it going, buddy? Keeping everyone in check?"

Oscar grins. "Trying. It's a tough job!"

Hugh laughs, pulling him in for a hug.

"I bet."

Ava tugs at Hugh's hand, clearly ready for her bedtime routine. "Come on, Daddy, it's time for bed!"

Hugh winks at me. 'Duty calls. I' I take care of Ava, and then 1'll be back. Oscar, heading to your room soon?*

Yeah, 1'Il probably read for a bit," Oscar says, already making his way toward the stairs.

As Hugh leads Ava upstairs, I sink ack onto the couch, exhaling a deep breath. It feels good to have him home, even if just for a little while. A few minutes later, he returns, the corners of his mouth ifting as he sees me still curled up on the couch

"Bedtime routine went smoothly?" I ask.

He chuckles, collapsing next to me Ava was out like a light. Oscar's a teenager now, though. Bedtime's more of a suggestion than a rule.

We share a quiet laugh, and then it's just us - the house finally still. I lean against him, his arm sliding naturally around my shoulders pulling me closer. The warmth of his body is soothing, and I take a moment to just breathe him in.

"How've you been holding up this week?" he asks softly, his thumb stroking my arm.

"Busy. But good." I reply, turning to look at him. "What about you? It feels like you've been everywhere!"

He sighs, rubbing his face.

"I have. It's been non-stop interviews, press junkets, all of it. I barely had a second to breathe." His eyes soften as he looks down at me.

"I missed you. Missed this."

My heart flutters, and I shift, leaning into his side a bit more. "I missed you, too. It's been strange without you here."

He gives me a slow, knowing smile. "Guess l'II have to make up for lost time then."

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? How do you plan on doing that?"

Without a word, Hugh's hand slides down to rest on my hip, pulling me closer until I'm nearly on his lap. His touch is warm, and I can feel the tension building between us, that unspoken desire that's been bubbling under the surface since the moment he walked through the door.

I bite my lip, my breath hitching as I swing my leg over to straddle him and his hands immediately find their way to my hips, pulling me even closer. His fingers dig in, holding me there, as his dark eyes lock with mine. There’s a smoldering heat between us, a spark that’s been building ever since he walked through the door. It feels electric, and I’m feeding off it, my body already reacting to the closeness, the weight of his hands on me.

"I don’t think you understand how much I’ve missed this.." I murmur, leaning down so my lips brush against his ear, teasing him with my breath. I give a slow roll of my hips against his, feeling the growing hardness beneath me.

Hugh groans softly, his hands tightening their grip on my hips as I grind down again, my movements deliberate, slow, and torturous. “Trust me, I’ve missed you more.” he says, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. His hands start to roam under my shirt, fingertips grazing my bare skin, sending shivers up my spine. “Every damn day, I thought about this. About having you like this… on top of me, feeling you.”

I tilt my head back, sighing as his fingers trail higher up my sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through me. I roll my hips again, feeling the friction between us, and I bite my lip, a teasing smile forming on my face.

"I had to keep myself entertained, you know." I say, my voice dropping to a sultry tone. “All those nights without you. I had to take care of myself in more ways than one.”

Hugh’s eyes darken, and he swallows hard, his hands pausing for just a second before sliding up to cup my breasts over my shirt. “Yeah? Tell me what you did.” he whispers, his voice thick with lust. “Tell me how you touched yourself thinking of me.”

I let out a soft moan as his thumbs brush over my nipples, teasing through the fabric. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head back slightly so I can look into his eyes. “I’d lay in bed, thinking about you. About how good your hands feel on me, how your mouth drives me crazy. I’d slide my hands down my body, imagining it was you. And I’d think about how much I need you, how no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

His breath hitches, and I grind down on him again, this time harder, feeling his hardened length.

“Fuck.” he mutters, his hands moving to my ass, squeezing as he pulls me tight against him. “You saying that is going to drive me insane. Hell, I wish I’d been there… wish I’d been the one making you come, hearing you moan my name.”

I smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a slow, heated kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, the kiss deepening with each second as the desire between us becomes unbearable.

His hands start to roam more urgently now, one sliding up under my shirt to cup my bare breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple, making me arch into him. The other grips my ass, pulling me into his lap as I grind against him again, feeling the heat pooling low in my belly.

"Hugh.." I breathe, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, my lips hovering over his harder this time. The friction between us sends a rush of heat through my body, and I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips.

"I need you.." I whisper, my voice barely a breath as I feel his hands tighten on my ass, pulling me closer, pushing me down onto him.

"You have no idea how badly l've needed this." he groans, his lips crashing back into mine, urgent and rough. His hands roam freely now, one sliding up to my back, tugging at the hem of my shirt, pushing it higher.

My breath comes out in short gasps, my fingers tangled in his hair as lkiss him again, hungrily, my hips moving in slow, deliberate circles, the sensation of his hands on my skin, the way he's pulling me into him, it's driving me wild.

I break the kiss, my lips brushing against his ear as I whisper. "I've been so wet for you, Hugh. Every night, just thinking about you.. how good you feel inside me."

I pause, grinding down again, harder, feeling his breath catch. "I couldn't wait for you to come home."

He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping my hips as I continue to move against him, my body already buzzing with the heat of arousal. "Fuck, baby.." he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

"You're killing me. I want you so bad right now."

His words ignite something in me and I tug at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one swift motion. My hands run down his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath my fingers, my body aching to feel more of him.

All of him.

He leans back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as he watches me, his hands sliding up under my shirt, lifting it higher, exposing my skin

I let him pull the shirt over my head tossing it aside, and his hands immediately move to my breasts, making me gasp as a jolt of pleasure shoots through me.

"You feel so good, love." he murmurs, his voice rough, his hands exploring every inch of me.

Suddenly someone clears their throat.

We freeze.

Instinctively, I press my upper body against Hugh and turn my head in the direction from which the voice came.

My heart racing as I see Oscar standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

"Oh my God." I mutter, my face burning with embarrassment.

Oscar clears his throat awkwardly and looks at the ceiling.

"I.. uh.. I just wanted to say goodnight. But, uh.. I'll go to bed now. Good night."

He doesn't wait for a response turning on his heel and practically sprinting back up the stairs.

Hugh and I sit there in stunned silence for a moment before we both burst out laughing, the tension evaporating into a mix of relief and embarrassment.

"Well.." Hugh says, running a hand through his hair. "That was.. unfortunate."

I shake my head, still laughing softly.

"We should probably go to bed too, before we traumatize him any further."

Hugh grins, his eyes still sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Probably a good idea."

We stand up, and as we head upstairs, his hand finds mine, squeezing it gently.

Even though the moment was interrupted, the connection between us is still there, stronger than ever. And I know there will be plenty of time to finish what we started.

---------------------------------------------------

Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[legomonkiefics]

hii! I was wondering if I could request a Wukong x GnReader where the readers sleeping schedule is….uh it’s not the best, that’s for sure! Like the reader just stays up all night doing work so they barely sleep? just how Wukong would try to help or something. Or if the bad sleep schedule thing ain’t getting your creative juices flowing just plain cuddle headcanons would be completely fine! Feel free to ignore this and remember to drink some water and take breaks! ^^

👑🧡 Sleep Aid — Wukong x GN Reader Drabble 🧡👑

Genres: Fluff, Romance || They/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Working into the dead of night wasn't unusual for you, it was commonplace if anything. Stuff needed to get done, and the daytime was usually filled with so much commotion, especially with the Monkey Gang you'd been frequently hanging around recently. You sighed a little as you put a page up just to grab another, filling out the next dreadful tasks. There was a small flash of gold outside that caught your attention, until the door opened and a familiar voice called out.

"I'm home! Where'd you go, peachfuzz?" Wukong called out. He usually ran late nights too, his work as a Sage never seeming to end even post-retirement. He walked into your shared space, zipping up to you and hugging you around the shoulders. "There you are!" He said as he pressed his cheek to yours. When he pulled back, he noticed the papers out. "You're still working? It's been hours" he asked with a concerned frown. You rubbed his hair gently as you turned more in your chair to face him better. "Yeah, but it's okay. I'm making progress" you reassured him. Despite the King leaning into your touch, he didn't seem any less worried. "Are you sure, bud? I don't want you pulling another all-nighter". "I'm sure. I'll be alright" you said, and Wukong gave a nervous hum. "Okayyy, but since I'm up I might as well help" he said. Before you could protest, he was already making his way into the kitchen.

When he came back, he had a few supplies in his arms. He draped a comforter around your shoulders, sliding a warm beverage on your desk. A kiss was placed to your temple as he gave you a plate of warm dinner. "Did you pull this out of your hair?" You asked teasingly, Wukong grinning as he pretended to be offended. "Me?! Never! You should know by now that I'm a great cook" he said, pulling up a chair to sit beside you. You chuckled as you replied, "I've seen you burn too much to even pretend that's true". "Hush," Wukong said playfully, his tail batting at you gently.

As the time wore on, Wukong kept you company. He commented on the work, told you stories to keep you entertained, but there was a slight plot behind his actions. He'd also gently rub your sore shoulders, keep the warmth of the blanket tucked around you, and made sure you finished up all your dinner. Only a few moments later, his gentle affectionate gestures coupled with the warmth and a full stomach made you drowsy. The second you began leaning on him more, he gently took the pencil from you and massaged the palm of your hand. "You okay, love?" He asked with a fond smile. You nodded. "Yeah, just-" a yawn escaped you "-can't seem to keep my eyes open". Wukong nodded, gently keeping you in the blanket as he lifted you into his arms. "I think that means it's bedtime, sunbeam". After you nodded and leaned into his embrace, he used his nimbus cloud to carry the both of you to bed. He gently placed you on the mattress, going back out to shut down the home for the night and put up the dishes.

When he came back, he handed you a set of pajamas and let you get dressed as he did the same in another room. When you were both done, he folded out the blanket he gave you across the covers, letting you curl into his arms. He made sure you were comfortably situated before nestling down with you. Every night he was getting you to go to bed a little earlier, secretly planning to adjust your sleep schedule little by little until you could get a regular full night's sleep. For now, he was happy to call tonight a victory as he kissed your forehead and closed his eyes for sleep

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Three

Lines are beginning to blur between you and Anakin.

◂ chapter two ▸ chapter four

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.2k | read on ao3

warnings: alcohol, age-gaps, body image insecurities (anakin), sexual fantasies/content, swearing, a little bit of mean anakin

“Tell me everything! Is he everything you thought he’d be? Totally dreamy? All stoic and boss-like? Oh, what does he smell like? Expensive?” 

Your best friend has barely taken off her shoes before bombarding you with questions about your first day working for Anakin Skywalker. You give her a welcoming hug before taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “Come on, I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.” 

Two empty glasses stand next to a middle-shelf Pinot Gris on your coffee table. Sabine takes it upon herself to pour the wine and pulls the granny square blanket from the back of your couch over her lap. She looks like she’s settling in for a bedtime story. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me.” 

You situate yourself on the opposite end of the couch and slip your legs under the blanket. You take a small sip of wine before attempting to answer any of Sabine’s questions. Your first day at Skywalker Enterprises went by in a blur. Meeting your boss was not at all how you imagined it would go. It was all so clumsy. Anakin seemed more like an embarrassed school boy than the confident CEO you were expecting. He looked like he saw a ghost when he saw you sitting behind your desk. And then, in the car on the way to his house, he addressed your butt. 

“Let me know if your butt gets too toasty,” he said. It was so incredibly adorable because you could tell he let a little bit of his guard down when he said it. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. Because no sensible boss should talk about his assistant’s butt. Especially not when you’ve only just met each other. You found it endearing. 

But then, after the initial awkwardness faded and you continued talking to each other throughout the day, there was a sense of familiarity about him. The structure of his sentences when he spoke reminded you of someone. You’re just not sure who. 

“He’s not really what I thought he’d be like.”

“How so?” Sabine asks. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, unable to explain the stirring of feelings and emotions in your chest. “He’s… he was sort of awkward when we first met. Like, stuttering and fumbling over his words. Almost as if I made him nervous.” 

Sabine nods slowly with her eyes narrowed. “Go on…” 

“Well, that’s crazy, right? The fact that I could’ve made him nervous?” 

“Not necessarily. Look at you. You didn’t have a successful OnlyFans page for nothing.” 

“Yeah, but he’s in his forties,” you emphasize. You remind yourself of his age nearly every minute to remember how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your boss. Applying for the job was such a bad idea. What made you think you wouldn’t be attracted to him when you saw him in person? Your cheeks get hot as you think about him rounding the car to open your door once you got back to the office after dropping off his son’s pants at school. It was just a common courtesy, not a sign of interest. But damn, was it nice to be on the reciprocating end of something gentlemanly.

“And he’s a dad! I shouldn’t be making dads nervous,” you add. “I mean, I saw a picture of his wife at his house. She was stunning. Stunning, Sabine. High cheekbones, a nice straight nose, a gorgeous smile…” 

“Wait, he’s married?!” Sabine sets down her glass. 

“Widowed.” 

“Oh,” Sabine says sadly. Then her eyebrows perk up. “Oh.” 

“Don’t,” you hold up your finger. “Don’t give me that look. He’s my boss.” 

“But you like him,” Sabine sings. “And from what it sounds like, he likes you too.” 

You cannot let Sabine put the idea of Anakin Skywalker, engineering millionaire, having a measly little crush on you. Because it’s absolutely absurd. He’s him and you’re… you’re just a girl who was uploading videos of herself masturbating for money just last week. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work. It’s empowered you in so many ways, but it was time to find something a bit more steady and reliable. And less physically taxing, to be perfectly honest. 

“Sabine, be serious. I-” your phone pings with a distinct tone that makes you pause. 

New Message from Skyguy81 

“Oh, my God,” you say. 

“What?” Sabine asks. 

“It’s Sky,” you answer her while opening the message.

Sabine eagerly crawls on top of you to peer at your screen. “Sky as in Rich Guy Sky? Did you upload a new video or something? What did he say?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I haven’t uploaded anything since last Thursday. Get off of me so I can read his message.” 

Sabine retreats to her side of the couch as you begin reading to her. 

“I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.” Your tongue feels like sandpaper and your heart is in the bottom of your throat. 

“Oh, shit!” Sabine exclaims. “You’ve got this boy whipped! Honestly, you should just keep making videos for him. He was your best tipper, anyway.” 

“He’s never… he’s never messaged me out of the blue before.” You chug down the last of your wine, thinking you may need some liquid courage for whatever conversation is about to unfold between you and Sky. 

“He wants you,” Sabine says simply. “Make it happen.” 

“I can’t just meet up with someone from OnlyFans. It’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen.” 

Sabine rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so cynical.” 

“I’m not being cynical, I’m being logical,” you counter. You’d be foolish to risk your life by meeting up with Skyguy81. No matter how nice and genuine he seems over private messages. No matter how much money he has tipped you. There is no guarantee he’s not absolutely creepy and going to kidnap you.

Okay, so maybe you watch too much true crime. That’s why you have to balance it out with The Great British Bake Off. 

“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Sabine finishes her wine, “you never know. He could be the love of your life.” 

You’re quiet as you contemplate the love of your life. Sabine is the romantic. You’re the realist. You have a hard time believing there’s one person in the world who you’re destined to be with. How do you explain Anakin losing his wife? Was she the love of his life? Is he not supposed to move on and potentially find happiness with someone else? None of it makes sense to you and it’s quite possibly because you’ve never been in love. 

And the image of the person who you might like the opportunity to love is entirely unavailable. 

.

.

.

It’s times like tonight when Anakin wishes he didn’t raise such inquisitive, curious children. Leia is simply chock-full of questions about her dad’s new assistant. When do they get to meet her? Soon. Is she old like Auntie Dorothy? No. Does she like vintage Disney movies? (Anything before 2010 is “vintage” to Leia). I don’t know. 

Luke, on the other hand, was very disappointed to learn that you were in the car while his dad dropped off a new pair of pants. “You made her wait in the car like a dog?” 

Anakin snorts. “I wouldn’t quite say like a dog, Luke. I was gone for less than five minutes.” 

“Did you at least roll down the window? So she could have fresh air?” Leia joins in on the comical idea of their dad leaving his assistant in his car like a pet. 

“That’s enough out of you two,” Anakin says through a grin. These 9 year olds, man. What is he going to do with them? 

Luke and Leia nod, going back to stabbing their dumplings with their chopsticks. 

“I have one last question.” Leia watches her dumpling precariously dangle on the edge of her chopstick. 

“What is that, princess?” Anakin asks.   

“Is she pretty?” 

Anakin’s pulse is going to burst. It’s a simple question- one that always seems to be on the tip of Leia’s tongue. She wants a woman figure in her life. Soon, she’ll be at the age that is easier to navigate with a maternal presence. Anakin is really not equipped to talk her through menstrual cycles. 

But it’s the nature of who his new assistant is that makes him feel so exposed. He can’t very well tell his children you’re the most beautiful woman he’s seen since his wife. And he definitely can’t tell them that you’ve been in his life not since this morning, but since three years ago when he downloaded OnlyFans. 

Anakin cleans the corners of his mouth with his napkin while he formulates an appropriate response. He’s kept his answers short and simple because if he thinks about you for too long, your figure seeps into his vision, your voice burns in his ears, and he’s unable to focus. 

He feels like such a sleaze for getting hard just by thinking about you. You are so much more than a sexual object. And trust him, he can’t wait to learn about all that makes you you. But morals be damned. He wants you desperately. 

“Yes, Leia. She’s quite pretty,” Anakin finally answers. 

Leia can’t help but dance excitedly in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her.” 

“I could’ve met her today,” Luke mumbles. “If Dad hadn’t locked her up in the car.” 

Anakin is laughing now. “I have a feeling you are going to be bringing this up for a while.” 

After dinner, the kids clear the dishes and load what they can into the dishwasher. Meanwhile, Anakin does something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. 

.

.

.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.

Now being 10 pm, it’s been 3 hours since Anakin— or rather, Skyguy81— sent you that message. 

And you still haven’t replied. But you read it. 

And the fact that you’ve read the message but decided not to reply makes Anakin feel so incredibly foolish. What was he thinking? What was he expecting from you? More meaningless flirting? 

Except now it’s not meaningless for him. He’s not sure if it was ever meaningless. But now that he knows who the woman behind HoneySuckle is, it’s completely different. You have a name— which he had to look up in employment records because he’s convinced he actually blacked out when you introduced yourself. You have passions and interests, favorite snacks, and a go-to karaoke song. He wants to know it all. 

And even though he’s going to see you tomorrow, he couldn’t resist the urge to message you on OnlyFans. But since you’ve opted not to reply to him, he’s now wallowing like a teenage boy. 

Ridiculous. He’s better than this, goddamnit! 

Finally deciding to stop staring at his phone, Anakin strips down to take a shower. It’s hard for him not to feel disappointed when he looks at himself in the mirror. Arguably, he’s still in great shape. He lifts weights at the gym at least twice a week, sometimes three if he has the time. He doesn’t have a beer belly, which he considers an accomplishment at his age. But he does have some extra fat around his love handles. He has sun spots on his shoulders from the countless pool days when the twins were younger. And then there are the undeniable lines around his eyes, which are incredibly prominent when he smiles. 

Anakin has never felt particularly insecure about his image before. He’s accepted that his body is not the same 20 year old body it once was. But there’s a new nagging insecurity in the back of his mind.

Is it good enough for you? 

Anakin turns on the water in the shower, needing to wash away all delusions of you and him ever getting together. As soon as he steps one foot on the tile, his phone buzzes. He grabs his phone off of the counter and his heart rate immediately ticks up. 

Hi Sky, I’m sorry for the delay. I had a friend over. Here’s a special little something for you ;) 

Attached is a picture of you on your bed, sitting on your heels with the thin straps of your panties pulled over your hips. You’re lifting an oversized t-shirt above your breasts, which also expertly hides your face. Right. Because you don’t know that he knows who you are. 

Still, the picture was worth the wait. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cock is already standing upright, the tip pressing against his lower abdomen. He focuses on your hard nipples, picturing himself enclosing his mouth around one of your mounds. He’s rolling his tongue over your bud while massaging your other breast. Your hands are in his hair and you’re anything but silent. You’re moaning his name, begging for more, whining for him to put his cock inside of you. 

Anakin is too preoccupied to even reply to you. He gets himself under the steady stream of hot water and grabs the base of his length. Now he’s picturing you on top of him, tits bouncing in his face while you fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Mmm, yes! Anakin, please. Feels so good.” 

Your hands are pressed against his strong chest for support. He loves you like this— in control but still pathetically needy for his dick. “How much do you love it?” he asks. “Tell me how much you love this cock inside of you.” 

You throw your head back when he slaps both of your ass cheeks. He grabs onto your flesh firmly and your cunt clamps around him while you proclaim it to be the best feeling in the world. “I love it so much, Ani. Nobody's cock feels as good as yours.” 

“Damn right,” Anakin grits. He holds your chin with a strong hand, forcing you to look at him. “This pussy is mine. You understand that?” 

“Yes, sir,” you moan as Anakin bucks his hips up, hitting deep inside of you. “Only yours.” 

“Yes, sir,” huh? That’s a new kink unlocked. Anakin presses a palm on the shower wall to steady himself as he cums. It’s anything from pretty. It happens suddenly and quickly, thanks to the vivid images he was creating in his mind. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly. But your name is rolling off of his tongue effortlessly. As if it’s always been in the recesses of his mind, just waiting to be said intimately and passionately. 

He tries to list off the hundreds of reasons why he should never utter your name in a less than professional manner while shampooing his hair. 

You’re his assistant.

You’re significantly younger than him. 

The power imbalance (see 1 and 2). 

That’s all he can come up with for now and it’s enough. Nothing good will come out of pining for you and fantasizing about you. It still doesn’t stop him from messaging you back after he gets out of the shower and settles in bed. 

Now I feel guilty for not responding sooner. Thank you for the spectacular photo. It is unfortunate that I had to take matters into my own, ahem, hands. I would have much preferred to have your help. 

You flatter me, Sky. Do I really get you that worked up? 

Impossibly so. 

When you said you thought about me at work… What exactly did you mean? 

To be perfectly blunt, you were bent over a desk with your skirt pushed over your ass. I was fucking you well and hard, with my name being the only thing falling from your pretty lips. 

Anakin lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Why does he keep putting himself in situations that result in an erection? He just needs to have a good fuck. Get it out of his system. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. But under no circumstances will it be with you. 

I think I’d like that very much. 

Goddamnit. Anakin needs to stop while he’s ahead. While he’s not succumbing to jerking off for a second time tonight. This was a disastrous idea. Because now when he sees you at work tomorrow, he’s going to think about how you would like for him to fuck you over your desk. Except you don’t actually know that it’s him who wants to fuck you over your desk. 

Maybe in another life. 

Anakin leaves it at that. He puts his phone on do not disturb and attempts to get some reading in before going to sleep. He also prays for G-rated dreams. 

.

.

.

The morning fog of late November in Northern California is still hanging in the air when you get to work at 8 am. Anakin won’t be in until he drops off Luke and Leia which means he should arrive around the same time he did yesterday. It gives you an hour to go through voicemails, reply to emails, and brew a pot of coffee in the breakroom. 

Ben Kenobi arrives shortly after you, sharply dressed in dark blue slacks, caramel leather Oxfords, and a white collared shirt with small polka dots that match the color of his pants. 

“Good morning, Mr. Kenobi,” you greet.  

“Please, call me Ben. No need for formalities around here,” Ben replies. “You’ll soon see we operate very much like a family. There will be shouting and likely some name calling, but it’s all in the name of love for engineering and innovation.” 

“Got it,” you nod. “It’s just that Dorothy always called Mr. Skywalker by, well, Mr. Skywalker. And yesterday he didn’t tell me to call him otherwise.” 

Ben strokes his nicely groomed beard. “Interesting. Well, I suppose you can continue to address him as such until he tells you to call him Anakin. Which I’m sure he’ll do this morning when he gets in. Have you brewed the coffee yet?” 

“Not yet.” you stand. “I wanted to check messages first, but coffee is next on the list.” 

“Excellent.” Ben follows you into the breakroom. “How are you enjoying your time here?” 

“Well, it’s only been a day,” you remind him with a light lilt to your voice. “But it’s been good! Everyone I’ve met is super friendly.” 

Ben leans back against the counter, crossing his ankles and arms over his chest. “And you and Anakin? You two getting along? He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he?” 

You nearly spill the coffee grounds as you bring the spoon up from the container to the machine. “No!” you say a little too loudly. “I mean, no. He’s been very nice. Quiet, but nice.” 

“Anakin? Quiet?” Ben almost laughs. “I’ve never heard that word used to describe Anakin before.” 

“Oh.” you continue scooping grounds into the machine. How many spoonfuls are you supposed to put in? You’ve lost count. Maybe two more for good measure. You’d rather make the coffee too strong than too weak. Nothing is worse than weak coffee. “Maybe I caught him on an off day. He did seem a little weird when he brought me to his house. And then I sort of told him off in the car…” 

This gets Ben away from the counter and walking over to you. “You did what?” 

“Well, I mean, I didn’t tell him off per se. I just asked him to give me a chance. It seemed like he’d already made a decision about me and we’d only known each other for a couple of hours.” 

“Good for you,” Ben replies. “Anakin is headstrong but he can be reasoned with. If the reason is worth being reasoned over.” 

“Am I?” you ask. “Worth being reasoned over?” 

Ben appears to give you a once over and then nods once. “Yes, I’d say so.” 

“Thanks…” you say with uncertainty. Ben takes himself and his briefcase to his office, which is the next door over from Anakin’s. He leaves you alone in the breakroom with a dozen questions. Was Ben assessing your appearance? Surely not for himself. He’s insanely in love with his wife— the mayor. Then who for? Anakin? No. No way. 

The coffee has begun to brew— the nutty notes of Philz Philtered Soul bringing you back to your college days. There’s one in walking distance from campus and you and Sabine spent every finals week there chugging back Mint Mojitos and Mocha Tesoras. 

Those days were not that long ago for you. For Anakin, on the other hand… 

You shake your head, effectively shaking thoughts of Anakin taking any interest in you away. And why would he have an interest in you? He’s bound to have a list of more age-appropriate women he can bring home to his children. 

Stop thinking about it. 

But it’s so damn hard not to. A forbidden office romance with your boss who’s 20 years your senior? Yeah, it’s cliché and sort of sounds like the plot to a porno but it’s sort of fun, too. As long as you keep yourself in check, what’s the harm in pretending like he’s secretly in love with you and wants to take you home? 

.

.

.

When Anakin gets into the office, he doesn’t even greet you before saying, “Call Rose. Tell her to come as soon as possible.” 

So much for him being nice yesterday. Now he won’t even look at you. “Who’s Rose? What- what is the appointment for?” 

“You don’t need to know what it’s for,” Anakin snaps. “Just find Rose in your little phone book, call her, and tell her I need to see her immediately.” 

“Y-yes, sir,” you say while thumbing through the contacts Dorothy left behind for you. Without another word, Anakin goes into his office and slams the door. 

What the hell was that about? That was once again another awkward morning of Anakin slamming his office door after talking to you. You thought you left work on good terms yesterday. What changed? 

.

.

.

Rose Montgomery arrives 47 minutes after you call her. You hear her Louboutins clicking on the floor before you see her. Your eyes trail up from her long legs to her slim waist and perky boobs until you reach her face. Good Lord. She is strikingly beautiful. Her fiery red hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders. As she walks closer to your desk, you are drawn to her perfectly round green eyes. She’s like the real-deal Jolene from Dolly Parton’s hit song. Seriously, did she grow up being called Jolene solely based on her looks? 

“Aw, look at you,” Rose smiles down at you. “You must be the new Dorothy.” 

“I suppose I am.” 

“Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.” 

Uh… What the hell are you supposed to say to that? “I’ll let Mr. Skywalker know you’re here.” 

“No need,” Rose informs. “I’ll let myself in.” She begins to walk away with an extra sway to her hips. You want to hate her but she’s got such an air of confidence that you actually want to be a little more like her. 

“Oh, um, actually I’m not sure about that,” you come out from behind your desk. “He seems to be in a mood so I don’t want you barging in his office to make it worse.” 

Rose turns on her heels and purses her lips. “Actually, sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you and this isn’t my first ‘appointment’ with him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go make his mood a little better.” 

Okay. Now you hate her. With that, Rose leaves you standing outside of Anakin’s office with a dumbfounded look on your face. Is that… is she… a booty call? 

All of the insinuations are there; from the air quotes around “appointment” to the way she said she’ll make Anakin’s mood better. Coupled with her outstanding looks, you’ve decided that Rose Montgomery is a friend with benefits of Anakin Skywalker. You trudge back to your desk and do your absolute best not to think about what’s happening behind your boss’s door. 

.

.

.

At the sound of his door opening, Anakin quickly closes his computer tab and turns off the monitor. He pulls his headphones off of his head and puts them in the drawer. 

Rose is none the wiser as she drops her Birkin bag on the table beside the chaise. “Ugh, who is that child you have sitting behind Dorothy’s desk?” 

“My new assistant,” Anakin answers through a dry throat. Rose sits herself on his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She begins playing with the ends of his curls, which normally, he would enjoy. But he really just wants to get this over with. He draws down the zipper of her black dress while she kisses along his jaw. 

“She seems incompetent,” Rose says between kisses. “What is she? Like, 15?” 

Anakin twirls Rose’s hair around his fist and yanks her face away from his. This makes her gasp with pleasure, and despite his annoyance, he loves the reaction he gets from her. “I didn’t fucking ask you here for your opinion on her. Do not talk about her again. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” Rose breathes. “Where do you want me?” 

“On your knees.”

.

.

.

When Rose leaves Anakin’s office, you can absolutely tell she and Anakin had sex. Did she even bother looking in the mirror or her phone camera before coming out? She avoids looking in your direction at all costs and knowing how awkward those walks of shame can be after a one night stand, you decide not to watch her walk to the elevator. 

You busy yourself in a filing cabinet until you hear Anakin’s door open again. You tell yourself not to look up because if you look up at him you might actually burst into tears. Which makes absolutely no sense to you but you feel that stinging in your nose and you’re trying to think of the time you got Panini because at least those were happy tears. 

Anakin says your name. 

Damnit. Get it together. You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile. At least he doesn’t look like he just had sex. His hair is combed back the same way it was when he walked in and his clothes are wrinkle free. “Yes, Mr. Skywalker?” 

“Would you like to go get lunch?” 

It’s only 10:45 but of course, he’d be hungry after having sex. “Oh, sure. What can I get you?” 

“I meant me.” 

You furrow your brows together. “Sorry?” 

“I mean us. You and me, together. Fuck,”  Anakin mumbles that last part. It’s like he loses the part of his brain that forms proper sentences when he looks at you. Think back to the car, Anakin. Things weren’t so bad in the car. Wait, yes they were. He told you to tell him if your butt got too toasty. 

You can’t help but smile as you start to see the Anakin who let his guard down in the car. He’s nothing like the Anakin who walked into the office this morning. “You want me to get lunch with you?” 

“Yes. If you would like.” 

You grab your thrifted black leather bag and your coat off of the back of your chair. “I think I’d like that very much.” 

I think I’d like that very much. 

That is the second time you’ve said that to Anakin. 

On the drive to the farm to table restaurant he suggested, he thinks about telling you the truth. That he’s Skyguy81 and you’ve been messaging each other for three years. Oh, and that he’s seen you naked. 

He weighs all of the pros and cons and all of the ways the situation could play out if he tells you. He decides the only way it’s going to end is with you quitting and never wanting to see him again. Telling you who he is is out of the question. 

Your face is buried in the menu, effectively blocking you from looking at Anakin. Your nerves are irritably on fire as you sit knee to knee with your boss. You go out to lunch with someone to talk. To get to know them. But you have no idea what to talk about with him. Either he’s super blunt or incredibly awkward and you don’t know what to make of it. 

Could Sabine be right? Does he have a crush on you? Do men in their forties even get crushes? 

“You are awfully quiet behind there,” Anakin finally says. “Are you hiding from me?” 

You slam your menu down nervously. “What? Oh, no. Just… looking at all of the options.” 

“I’m kidding,” Anakin chuckles. “If it helps, Leia likes the poke rice bowl. Luke likes the flatbread with artichokes. And I normally just get a burger.” 

“Wow, a 9 year old who likes poke? You’ve got some interesting kids.” 

“You have no idea,” Anakin replies bashfully. He really calms down when he talks about his kids. Maybe that’s your key to him. Keep him talking about his kids. 

“Well, I think I’ll try Leia’s favorite. Do your kids enjoy trying different types of food?” 

Anakin gives you a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose so. I didn’t raise them to be picky eaters. They eat what I eat. We had dumplings last night. They’re shit at using chopsticks but it makes for an entertaining meal.” 

You laugh along with him, feeling yourself relax the more you see Anakin relax. “I love dumplings!” 

“Yeah? We’ll have to have you over some time for dumplings, then.” Anakin doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s hanging between you, awaiting your response. 

“That would be nice,” you admit. “I can’t wait to meet them. Of course, you know… if they even want to meet me.” 

“Are you kidding? Luke almost threw a fit over me leaving you in the car yesterday. And Leia… well, Leia gets excited about any new woman in my life. I mean, not that you’re my new woman, just you know, in terms of you being Dorothy’s replacement and-” 

You place your hand over Anakin’s without a second thought. And it’s more than just skin on skin. It’s electric. You resist the urge to pull away because the overwhelming feeling almost keeps you from saying: “It’s fine, Mr. Skywalker. I get what you mean.” 

Anakin is looking down at your hands and you wonder if he feels it too. Or if it’s entirely inappropriate to put your hand on his and he’s going to go back to being standoffish. You remove your hand from his and sit on it. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” Anakin murmurs. “Mr. Skywalker. I would much prefer you to call me Anakin.” 

You look up at him timidly. He’s being sincere. One corner of his lips are quirked up to form a sideways smile and your heart— your stupid, stupid heart adores it.  Perhaps there is harm in pretending like your boss is in love with you. Perhaps keeping yourself in check is going to be a lot more difficult than you thought. Because now that you’re on a first name basis with Anakin Skywalker, you fear simply being his assistant is not going to be enough.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter four (coming soon)

[ssahotchnerr]

Dad!Hotch and Y/N have their kids free night, and while they loved it (and very much needed it). After everything is said and done, they actually both miss Ellie and Jack so much more than they thought. It’s such a routine to sleep with Ellie and now she’s not there :(

no because you're so right 😭

while the alone time was SO needed, worth the wait and definitely enjoyed 🤭 it's when the two of you are coming back to earth that it begins to hit 🥺

the house is just so quiet. you don't hear jack get up to use the bathroom, you don't hear the faint buzz of ellie's sound machine from down the hall. the hotchners are the type of family that thrive on routine too: watching a quick show to settle down, baths, brushing teeth, jack's haley candle (aaron tries to do it at least once a week🥺), ellie's bedtime stories, and then aaron and your usual bedtime routine after the kids have gone to sleep. so going to bed without all that? just feels sooo odd.

and it's especially strange now that ellie has the tendency to climb into bed with the two of you 😭 with all her blankies and her stuffed bunny (and chucky doll LOL). just the added extra weight between the two of you, her little snores, aaron waking up to ellie's feet in his face 😭 LMAO. it's missed terribly 🥺 a part of you is truly missing.

like that's the major difference; you've gotten so used to bedtime taking ages, so going to bed without a problem? is sooo weird. aaron's half expecting to hear the tiny pitter-patter of ellie's footsteps make their way to your door 🥺 it opening, and then seeing his ellie bellie's little face 😭

the two of you talk about missing them 🥺🫶🏻 aaron's holding you in his arms, with your head on his chest <3333 you hope they're having fun, hope ellie's not giving jj a hard time - while she was SO excited to have a sleepover at auntie jj's, as the two of you dropped her and jack off, she was on the clingy side 🥺 not wanting to part but wanting to stay with the two of you 😭 and just like you're used to sleeping with her, she's used to sleeping with the two of you 😭

it hits you a bit harder; ellie being upset when you left had taken reign in your mind. aaron's more used to being away from them due to cases, but not you. it's rare you spend a night apart from them: you can count on one hand the amount of times you have spent a night away from ellie specifically. like yeah, you saw them a few hours ago, you'll see them again in a few hours, but you just miss your babies :(

aaron tries to lift your spirits by saying, "you know, a few nights from now, we're gonna miss this quiet again" and it does make you laugh, he laughs, but it falls quiet rather quick :( <3 a bit bittersweet and melancholy. so the two of you eagerly go to bed (which isn't hard hehe you worn yourselves out ;)) so morning comes faster, and you can have your kiddos in your arms again 🥰💞<333

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Tall Tales | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: mentions of smut, canon gore, canon violence

Word Count: 3986

A/N: This episode was a challenge to write, but so much effing fun. I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

(he's so sexy in this gif i'm nutting goodbye goodnight i'm gone)

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Dean refused to let you hunt for the next two weeks following your concussion. You were pissed off, but you knew it was for the best. When the brothers settled on a case, they stuck you in a motel room and would occasionally come check on you between hunting. They found something at a college in Tennessee, and that was about all they told you before putting you to bed for the next week. 

When Sam would come check on you early on, it was to make sure you had enough water or food in your mini fridge. He’d always bring a book with him to sit with you while you rested. When you could finally tolerate the sound of other people’s voices again without going cross-eyed, you got him to read it to you. 

He snorted. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?” 

You deadpanned at him. “Yes, asshole. Please?”

“Okay,” he laughed. The book was called The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt, and you were completely fascinated. Sam’s voice would often soothe you to sleep as he recounted bits of Egypt’s history to you.

Between Sam’s visits and hours spent staring at the ceiling or pacing, Dean would visit. Most often, he’d come to your room at night. Not for any sexual purposes; in fact, when you suggested you have sex, he was fervently against it.

“Why?” you’d asked. 

“ ‘Cause you’re still hurt,” he replied simply, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. “And…”

“And?” you prompted, tilting your head up at him.

“I just wanna be with you right now,” he admitted quietly. 

You smiled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling into him.

***

Sam was clearly pissed off with Dean the next time he came to visit you. 

“What’s goin’ on?” you’d asked.

He sighed, “Just Dean being… Dean. “ He sat at the foot of your bed as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. “How’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” you smirked. 

Sam made a bitch face at you. “Really? Elvira?”

“Of course. I love her,” you giggled.

“Seriously. How is it?” 

You shrugged. “Same ol’ same ol’. I’ll live. How’s your, uh, mental state?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that.” Sam shook his head. 

“C’mon, you can tell me anything. What’s goin’ on?” you questioned, scooching closer to him. 

The brunet seemed thoughtful for a minute. “I, uh, don’t really know.” He chuckled awkwardly. “I’m really gettin’ worried, (Y/N). After Wandall and what I did to Jo—”

You cut him off. “Sam, that wasn’t you. We’ve been over this—”

“Yeah, but still. It’s been really bothering me.” You replied, “Well, yeah, that’s to be expected. Meg took you for a hell of a ride.” You thought for a second about your words. “Gross.”

Sam laughed before becoming serious again. He seemed to be thinking deeply about how to talk to you. “I’m really worried about what’s happening to me. Especially since…”

“Since what?” you prompted.

“Since you wouldn’t shoot.” You dropped your head back, sighing. “Sam, we’ve been over this. If you really go dark side, I’ll do it. But it seemed like your conscious mind wasn’t doing those things. It seemed like psychosis, almost. I’m not gonna kill you over that.”

“Well, then, when does it end?” he argued. “Conscious or not, I killed someone. And you saw it happen. And you still wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, Sam. You’re my best friend. It’s gonna take a lot for me to gank you,” you scoffed.

He softened a bit and sighed. “I get it,” the brunet muttered. “I just… I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to it every day. And I don’t know how to stop it. And Dean’s freaked, but he won’t talk to me about it. I’m sick of him pretending that everything’s fine.”

“Well, you know how he is,” you reminded him. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Still.”

“I hate to tell you this,” you began, fiddling with the hem of the quilt on your lap, “but the more freaked out you are, the more susceptible you are to—” “To demonic possession,” he finished. “Yeah, I know.” “And if that’s what this ‘dark side’ thing is supposed to be, we gotta get you back under control,” you continued. 

Sam nodded pensively. A mischievous look crossed his face suddenly. “So, uh, how’s things with you and—?”

“Oh, god,” you groaned, flopping back on your head. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve seen the two of you. I’m not completely blind,” he chortled. “So, talk.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t— I just— with everything going on, I don’t wanna… go there, y’know?”

He made a face at you.

You chucked a pillow at him. “I’m not talking about our sex life, dipshit. I don’t wanna make him commit to me with everything happening. But, then again, we’re hunters. We’re never not gonna have tons of shit goin’ on.”

“I mean, do you want a relationship with him?” Sam asked.

“Eh, I don’t know,” you shrugged unconvincingly.

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine, I do.” Sam laughed.

“But I don’t want to want that, y’know?” You cringed at yourself. “God, I sound like a sixth grader with a crush.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam snorted. “But I’m happy for you guys. I want you guys to be happy.”

***

The next time Dean came to visit, he was carrying a case of beer. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you asked, throwing your journal aside.

“Alright, fine, I’ll leave,” he smirked, turning back to the door.

“No, no!” you said, bounding over to him. You spun him around and kissed him gently. “Stay.”

“Always,” he said against your lips.

***

Something you were beginning to learn about Dean was his love languages. You were big on psychology. Though you knew he wasn’t and would never let you pick his brain aloud, it was fun to do in your head. Given the way he redressed your head wound in the earlier days of your admittedly severe concussion, made you dinner, and did your laundry, you deduced he liked to give love through acts of service. 

However, he seemed to be hellbent on not receiving it in that way. He refused to let you redress the wound on his shoulder until the dressings Jo put on it were saturated in seeping fluid. 

“Dean, you’re gonna start growing a science experiment in there. Let me help you,” you’d said, more stating it than begging. 

“I’m fine, (Y/N). Seriously.”

You got your first aid box out of your duffel and threw over your shoulder, “This is not up for debate. Come here.” 

With a reluctant sigh, he did eventually listen to you. Given the beers he brought you, the crappy movies, the card games, and hours spent just in each other’s company, you figured his receiving love language was quality time. And you were more than happy to give that to him.

***

On day twelve, you were insistent you could spar with Dean again. He was insistent, however, that he wouldn't do it.

"Dean! C'mon, man! It doesn't even hurt anymore," you protested, putting your hair up in a ponytail.

"(Y/N), I'm not gonna risk hurting you—"

"Dean!" you warned. "I'm rusty. If I'm gonna help you guys with this hunt in two days, please, dude, I'm begging you."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

You smirked, preparing your fighting stance. He eyed you challengingly, his smirk encouraging you to rush him. You did so, and he easily dodged you. However, you had prepared for that scenario, and whipped your back leg around to hit him in the stomach while he dodged you.

Dean grunted, and you jumped back from him. You aimed a punch toward his jaw, which he blocked easily. Several more punches were thrown between the two of you before you got fed up.

"Stop holding back!" you pushed.

"I"m not," he argued unconvincingly, throwing a sloppy left hook at you.

"Your form is shit, you're barely out of breath, and you're mostly on the defensive," you replied. "Stop holding back. You won't break me."

"(Y/N)—"

"Dean," you cut him off. "Vamps aren't gonna hold back. Whatever we're dealing with isn't gonna hold back. I'm healed enough. Quit it."

He finally did listen, making you incredibly happy. Beating Dean Winchester in hand-to-hand combat was nearly impossible given the size and muscular advantage he had against you. However, your father had trained you well on how to use speed and endurance to your advantage.

You fought with Dean for quite a few rounds before he knocked you back into the dresser in your motel room, and you hit the back of your head on the corner.

"See? I told you that was gonna happen," he said angrily. Although, you knew he was more angry with himself than he was with you.

"I'm fine," you replied, standing and rubbing the back of your head. "Again."

"No," Dean asserted, turning away from you. He shrugged his jacket back on.

"Wha— Where are you going?" you questioned, becoming aggravated with his stubbornness. "I said I'm fine, Dean. Again."

"We're done for today, (Y/N)," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

You scoffed. "I hate it when you do this."

"Yeah, well," Dean said gruffly, "I hate it when you act like a stubborn brat. Why is it so wrong that I don't wanna hurt you?"

"Because I'm asking you to!" you argued. "Hurt me! Don't fucking go easy on me! I already gave you my reasons why you shouldn't! I'd rather you hurt me than whatever we're up against!"

"I get that, (Y/N), but you can't ask me to fucking do that," he responded, turning to face you. "I won't hurt you."

You sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Yeah. See you," he grumbled. Then, you heard the door slam shut behind him.

***

You knew your fight had been stupid. You sat by the door all day, anxiously awaiting Dean's return. Just when you were beginning to lose hope that he'd show, you heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," you said awkwardly, opening the door for him to come in.

"Hey," he replied.

"I'm sorry. I was being stupid. I wouldn't do that to you if you asked me," you told him, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't wanna shut you out," he said, unable to meet your eyes.

You grabbed his hand, making him look up at you. "Hey, you know the only reason I asked you to do that was because I trust you so much, right?"

Dean nodded. "How's your head? I didn't hurt ya too bad, did I?"

You shook your head. "Can't even feel it," you smiled.

***

By day fourteen of concussion recovery, you were clawing at the walls; ready to hunt again. You strolled back into their room at nine in the morning that day to get a run-down of the case so you could get back to your job.

“Thank god you're here,” Dean exhaled, getting off the bed he was lounging on when you walked in.

You snorted. “What, two weeks without me and you can’t function?”

Dean scoffed. “No.” He paused. “Well, kinda.”

“What’s been happening? And… why couldn’t you tell me anything about the case before this moment?” you asked.

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d believe us,” Sam told you.

You sat in the chair across from him, crossing your arms. “Why not?”

“It's just, we've never seen anything like it—”

“Not even close,” Dean chimed in.

“Oh-kay, well, why don’t you start from the beginning?” You leaned back in your chair and crossed your slender legs, knowing this was going to be a long conversation.

Sam huffed, gearing up for his story. “So, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So we pretexted as reporters from the local paper—”

“Pretexted?” you cut Sam off. “Okay, professor.”

He made a bitchface at you. “Would ya let me talk?”

“Fine, fine. Keep going.”

“I found these two kids at a bar who had the professor for Ethics and Morality. Both of ‘em said there was nothing about this guy that would’ve suggested he’d jump— I mean, wife, kids, tenured— everything. And the girl— her name was Jen— said she didn’t think it was suicide,” Sam explained. “Apparently, there’s this urban legend from about thirty years ago about a girl having an affair with a professor. He broke it off, and she jumped out the window of room 669. Anybody who sees her dies.” Sam shot a look at Dean. “Dean was supposed to be talkin’ to other locals, figuring out if the urban legend was even real, but, he, uh, got distracted.”

You straightened in your seat, shooting a look at Dean. “Distracted how?”

“He was too busy slamming purple nurples to even string together a coherent sentence,” Sam scoffed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was not!” Dean protested. 

“What, so you never drank a purple nurple?”

“Yeah, maybe that, but I wasn’t wasted,” the older brother argued. “I just took a few shots with this classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories.”

You quirked a brow at Dean, jealousy beginning to burn in your chest.

“She was, uh, more interested in me than talking about ghost stories, but I cut her loose before the poor girl embarrassed herself,” Dean said.

“Ah, what a saint,” you cooed sarcastically.

Dean shot you a look. “And then Sam came over like, ‘Dean! What do you think you’re doing?’ He thought I was chattin’ her up instead of focusing on the case. Which, I wasn’t— thank you, Sam— everything was just blah, blah, blah, lecture, lecture, lecture,” Dean continued.

“Right! And that's how it really happened,” Sam scoffed.

Dean shrugged.

“Sam, did he make out with the chick or not?” you questioned.

Sam seemed taken aback. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? But no, he didn’t.”

The tension in your body released.

“And I don’t sound like that, Dean!” Sam turned back to his brother.

“That's what you sound like to me,” the older brother shrugged.

You flicked your gaze between the two of them. “What’s going on with you guys?”

“Nothing. No— it's nothing,” Sam sighed.

“No, come on. You're bickering like an old married couple,” you snickered.

Dean got up and moved over to the kitchenette behind you. “No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins.”

“It’s conjoined twins!” Sam immediately corrected him.

“See what I mean?” Dean kept his gaze on you and gestured to his brother.

“Look, it—” the brunet sighed again, “—we've just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it.”

You nodded.

“So, anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime,” Sam continued. “We went and talked to the janitor, pretexting as electricians. He said he’d been workin’ there for six years, let us into the professors’ office, and told us he was the one who found the guy. He said the professor brought somebody up with him, and that was the thing to distract Dean from the nuts he was stuffing his face with.”

“Come on! I ate one, maybe two!” Dean protested.

“Just let me tell it, okay?” Sam shot back. “Anyway, janitor says the cops never found the girl the professor was with, and he didn’t even see her leave the room. But apparently, the professor brought girls up a lot. Maybe you missed that, Dean, since you were too busy snacking to focus on anything else.”

Dean glared at his brother.

“And get this?” Sam told you. “There is no room 669. And the professor’s office was clean of EMF. Next, we thought we should probably check the history of the building. Of course, I couldn’t do that, because my computer was frozen on bustyasianbeauties.com.” The younger brother spoke pointedly at Dean, who seemed dumbfounded, honestly. 

“Dude, I told you, I wasn’t on your laptop,” Dean grunted.

“Well, did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal chick?” you asked.

“No. History's clean,” Sam replied.

“Then it's not a haunting,” you stated.

“Maybe not. Tell you the truth, we're not really sure,” Dean replied.

“What do you mean, you're not sure?”

Sam spoke up again. “Well… it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” You asked, feeling like you were pulling teeth.

“This next part, we, uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty fucking weird. Even for us,” Dean chuckled in disbelief. “Apparently, this guy got beamed up on his walk home. Right outside of Crawford Hall.”

“ ‘Beamed up’?” you questioned. “Like… Star Trek? Aliens?!”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

“Aliens,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah.”

“Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people,” you said.

“Hey, believe me. We know,” the older brother replied.

“I’ve been hunting my whole life and never found any evidence of real alien abduction,” you shook your head. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Yeah, that's what we thought. But… we figured we'd at least talk to the guy,” Sam said.

Dean picked up the story then. “Found the guy drinkin’ himself into oblivion. He thought we wouldn’t believe him. Honestly, I still don’t know if I do.”

Sam cut his older brother off. “He said he blacked out, and when he woke up, he was, um—”

“He got probed,” Dean chuckled. “Some alien made him their bitch. And apparently, they did it a lot.”

Sam snickered. “He said… He said they made him slow dance, too. I mean, what the hell?”

You scoffed. “You guys are exaggerating again, right?”

“No, not at all,” Sam responded.

“Then this kid’s just nuts,” you stated.

“We're not so sure,” Dean argued. “There was a— a scorch mark in the ground outside Crawford Hall. Perfect circle.”

“Had to have been made by some kinda jet engine,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else it could’ve been. Given the timing alone, I figured, there’s gotta be some kind of connection.”

“I still wasn’t completely convinced,” Dean added. “I mean, between the angry spirit and sexed-up ET? What the hell. But what could we do? So we just kept on digging. We talked to this guy in probe-guy’s frat. Sammy did his whole 'I’m here for you, you brave little soldier’ speech, gave the guy a hug— the whole thing made me nauseous—”

“I never said that!” Sam argued.

“You're always saying pansy stuff like that,” Dean rebutted. “Would you let me talk?”

Sam quieted down, still upset.

“Anyway, the guy tells us that probe-guy was a huge dick. Apparently, he was going probe-level-stuff to his pledges this semester. And that was the one connection I could make out— both the victims are dicks. Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed. And that was when Sam started flippin’ out about his laptop— which I didn’t touch, by the way!— and started insulting my food—”

“It's not food anymore, Dean!” Sam cut in. “It's Darwinism.”

“I like it!” Dean scoffed.

Sam kept going. “All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!”

“And then he threatened my car, (Y/N),” Dean said. You knew he was serious, but his dramatics drew a laugh from you.

“Did you take his computer?” you questioned.

“Serves him right, but, no,” Dean replied.

Sam glared at Dean. “Well, I didn't lose it. 'Cause I don't lose things.”

“Oh, that's right, yeah, 'cause he's Mr. Perfect.”

You talked over them. “Okay, okay. Why don't you just tell me what happened next?”

Dean huffed. “There was one more victim.”

“Right. Now, we- we didn't see this one ourselves, either,” Sam began hesitantly. “We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy— He was, uh, he was a research scientist. Animal testing.”

“Yeah, you know, a dick,” Dean added. “Which fits the pattern. Cops didn't release the cause of death 'cause they had no clue what the cause was.”

“So, we checked it ourselves,” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah,” the older Winchester confirmed. “I’m tellin’ you, (Y/N), those remains were gnarly. Looked like somethin’ was chompin’ on him. Again, happened right outside Crawford Hall. Then, Sam found a belly scale. From an alligator.”

“Classic urban legend,” Sam broke in. “A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels.”

“This can’t get any weirder,” you shook your head.

“Then we tried callin’ Bobby—” Sam said, “since you were still down for the count. He was caught up in another case, though. So, we decided to search the sewer. We split up, each taking one end of campus.”

“Did you find anything?” you asked.

“Yeah, I found something, just not in the sewer,” Dean began, getting frustrated. ��Sam fucked up my car. He let all the air out my tires. He’s gonna bend the rims!”

“Why would he do that?” you questioned.

“I don’t know! ‘Cause he thinks I screwed with his computer or something!” Dean responded angrily. 

“I told you, Dean, I didn’t go near your car,” Sam said. 

“And how do you even know it was him?” you asked.

“ ‘Cause I found his money clip by my car. I’m keepin’ it for reparations. For, uh, emotional trauma,” Dean snarked. “Then, he full-on tackles me trying to get it back.”

“Oh, come on, I did not tackle you—”

Dean cut Sam off. “Oh yeah? Then how’d we end up on the floor?”

“ ‘Cause you’re an idiot, that’s why!”

“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough,” you broke in. 

The two boys stared at you.

“You showed up about an hour after that,” Dean finished.

“I'm surprised at you two. I really am,” you sighed. “Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer.”

“But I—” Sam argued.

“Shh! Shh,” you scolded. “And, Dean, Sam did not touch your car.”

“Yeah!” the younger brother petulantly cried, staring at Dean.

“Sam,” you warned. “And if you two would’ve pulled your heads out of your asses for a second, you probably would’ve figured out what we’re dealin’ with.”

Sam looked confused and looked over at Dean.

The older Winchester shrugged. “I got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” Sam looked back at you.

“A trickster,” you announced.

Dean snapped his fingers triumphantly. “That's what I thought.”

“What?! No, you didn't,” Sam argued.

You snickered. “You guys were the biggest clue.”

“What do you mean?” The brunet quirked his head at you.

“These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing, and it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight,” you explained.

“The laptop,” Sam realized.

“The tires,” Dean immediately added.

“It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you as a result,” you nodded.

“So, what is it, what- what, spirit, demon, what?” Dean asked.

“Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia, Anansi in West Africa; dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Make ‘em vanish just as quick,” you continued. “The victims fit the M.O., too. Tricksters target pricks, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor— deadly pranks, things like that.”

“(Y/N), what do these things look like?” Dean said, and you could tell he was realizing something.

“Lots of things, but human, mostly,” you shrugged.

Dean looked over at Sam. “And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?”

It took Sam a moment, and he frowned, but finally caught on. “The janitor.”

***

Sam and Dean decided they would stage a huge fight right where the trickster could see them discussing whether or not the janitor was your guy or not. As night began to fall, you were supposed to meet Sam outside Crawford Hall to help Dean confront the trickster because you knew he’d be looking for Dean after the two brothers separated.

You and Sam followed the slow, sexy eighties music down the hall to the auditorium, and you flanked both doors leading down into it. You stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to catch the trickster off-guard. You clutched your stake tightly as you took in the two women on a bed on the stage dressed in lingerie, looking at Dean like they were going to eat him alive. Anger bubbled in your chest at the thought.

“Look, man, I— I got to tell you, I dig your style, alright?” Dean told the trickster, who was seated in the audience with his back to you. Dean chuckled. “I do. I mean, the slow-dancing alien—”

“One of my personal favorites. Yeah,” the trickster said. You could hear the grin in his voice.

“But, uh, I can't let you go,” Dean told him.

“Too bad. Like I said, I like you. Sam was right. You shouldn't've come alone,” the trickster replied.

“Well, I'll agree with you there,” Dean said darkly.

You slammed the door shut behind you, as did Sam. 

“That fight you guys had outside— that was a trick?” the trickster asked.

Dean grinned.

The trickster hummed. “Hm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?”

A masked man with a chainsaw suddenly appeared near Sam and attacked him. You immediately ran to his aid, jumping on the back of the man and grabbing his arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Sam asked you over the roaring of the chainsaw.

“Probably, yeah!” you yelled. You wrapped your arms around the masked man’s neck, trying to close his airway. “Does this thing even have a windpipe? Can it even suffocate?”

Suddenly, you were flying down the steps of the auditorium.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt,” the janitor commented, chewing on a sandwich he was suddenly holding.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, getting up to charge him. 

One of the girls from the stage appeared before you suddenly, throwing you back down to the floor.

“Nice toss, gorgeous!” you heard the trickster cheer.

You reared back and kicked the woman squarely in the stomach, sending her stumbling back. You wrestled with her continuously, until suddenly, she disappeared from underneath you. You looked up to see Dean stabbing the trickster through the chest. 

“That’s my boy,” you smiled under your breath.

The trickster fell back into the seat behind him, dead.

Sam approached you and helped you off the ground. “You didn’t hit your head again, did you?”

“No, no,” you laughed. “I think I’m okay.”

Dean walked over to you and Sam. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam nodded.

“Well, I gotta say... he had style,” the older brother chuckled. You helped Dean up the steps, bearing the brunt of his weight given the many injuries he sustained.

“Alright, let's just get the hell out of dodge before somebody finds that body,” you said, putting Dean in the backseat of the car.

Sam ducked down into the front seat beside you, and you started the Impala.

“Look, Dean, um... I just want to say that I'm, uh— Um…” Sam couldn’t seem to muster an “I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Me too,” Dean nodded.

You snickered. “You guys are breaking my heart.”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” the boys groaned in unison. 

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