#I really do what to get this officially off the ground but I don't want to ask for help and feel like I'm pushing it off on someone else

[ezisregrettinglifedecisions]

I saw a post by @bellenotthebeast about the hate drivers are getting at the moment and this is a written version of what I put in the tags of my reblog because I didn't realise I was going to go on a rant when I tapped on the reblog button.

734 words just in case you were wondering.

All of the hate that drivers get for making mistakes is getting absolutely out of hand. It's frankly ridiculous how many people will jump at the chance to nitpick and be rude about another driver and whatever mistake they made minor or not. (This is specifically in relation to comments taken severly out of a very important bit of context and actual driving moments, if there is something serious then yes I think they should be held accountable for their actions, just because they're rich and in a very elite sport should not make them immune from accountability even though it does appear to sometimes.)

The stuff with Lando is actually sickening with how far its gotten. None of them should have to see that. In fact, no one, f1 driver or not, should ever see or hear such horrible things that people are saying to or about them. The death threats???? Hello??? What the actual fuck were people thinking. The drivers are people too the fans of those drivers are people. Get a grip and don't fucking send death threats???? Is that really that hard to have basic human respect for other people???

I see hate so much. Be it in the comments of an edit on tiktok or on a fan page on Instagram. Even the drivers own comment section and the official F1 account. People. What the fuck. Be supportive of people, for goodness sake. Don't be dicks??? Is it so difficult to be nice to people? I can tell that, unfortunately, I'm going to be using that phrase a lot.

I want to see the positives in this sport too. I think with all of the hate, all the good things have been buried under the swathes of hate and pain ignorance in some cases. I want to read or watch a video on how driver A did something so well, even if it's small and insignificant in the overall. I really want to hear about the amazing defending, even if they did get overtaken eventually. I want to hear about them being so fucking happy with their Quali position. I want to hear them screaming down the radio when they get in the points. I want to hear the feedback on the drive, where things may have gone wrong, and even where people think things could have improved. I want to hear about the track and the conditions and how well everyone did and how the people and the fans and their teams are so proud of their achievements during the weekend.

The thing I do not want to see is - ew i hate driver B. EEK no driver C ruined everything. Driver D should crash into the barriers. DO YOU NOT REMEMBER WHEN THERE WERE COMMENTS HOPING DRIVERS WOULD DIE IN A CRASH. What the fuck is wrong with the people saying that???? That is NOT okay. EVER. Have you not seen how outraged Max Fewtrell was when someone said that they hoped Max V crashed and got hurt in his twitch chat room. He was furious. Saying how that wasn't okay and how fucked up it was to say something like that. Listen to Max for fucks sake please.

WE👏 DONT 👏KNOW 👏THEM👏.

They're public figures, and we only know the public side of them, not the side they reserve for behind closed doors. And for the fifth hundred time, we aren't entitled to know anything about them behind closed doors either. We dont have any ground to stand on to demand anything like that. Because who the fuck do you think you are to demand something like that. Seriously, some people need to understand that this ISN'T okay and the way these people are acting will NEVER be okay.

So just enjoy the sport.

Enjoy the drivers.

Enjoy watching their skills on the track.

Enjoy their interviews and their relationships together on and off the track.

Enjoy the side of them that we are allowed to see.

And stop hating unnecessarily.

Please, for the sake of the sport.

For the sake of the newer fans.

And for the sake of the drivers and their physical and mental health. You really need to think before you post. Think about the impacts it could have if something happens. Know that if your words are seen, that could be detrimental and how YOU played a part in something so horrible.

Thank you,

Ez

[thehouseofurmotha]

Shinsou dating Aizawa's daughter head cannons :)

Pairing: Shinsou x Aizawa!Reader

I'm also working on a soulmate au with Shinsou 🤭 I fear he may be my favorite

• You and him meet when Aizawa asks you to spar with him, as you both have quirks that are less equipped for close range combat. You're in class 1-A too which is the class Shinsou would most likely join when he ends up in the hero course so it just made sense.

• You whoop his ass, he's immediately in love. He thinks you're extremely skilled and talented and pretty much begs you to help train him with your dad.

• Maybe it's because he wants to see you more often, but you don't need to know that.

• You ultimately agree and you and Shinsou pretty muuuuch become besties.

• But this is not enough for this man because he is absolutely enamored with you.

• One day while the two of you are sparing, your father leaves to go get another cup of coffee. And at this point he finally manages to pin you to the ground.

• For whatever reason he decides this is the best time to shoot his shot and is like, "Go on a date with me?" While he's just casually got you pinned to the ground.

• You don't manage to give him an answer before your dad gets back, but after you get up and brush yourself off you look at him and mouth a simple 'yes'.

• He smiles like a madman at this and your father looks at him and asks him what he's smiling about. He quickly goes back to his normal tired resting face with a quick nothing.

• Aizawa def thinks this is weird but he decides not to press any father. He feels bad pressing kids to tell him something they don't really have to.

• You guys go on a few dates before you officially start dating. Your father definitely notices that something about the two of you has changed but he doesn't realize that it has to do with the two of you being together.

• He finds out when he walks into your room while you and Shinsou were supposed to be just hanging out and watching a movie. Which he didn't find odd because the two of you had become fast friends with the friendly competition of sparring. But as he walks into your room to ask the two of you want for dinner he finds the two of you making out.

• He IMMEDIATELY kicks Shinsou out of your guys apartment. He isn't really mad that you guys are together he's just mad that you hid it from him and he had to find out like this.

• You guys have a very long conversation about being safe, and he definitely calls Midnight to handle most of it because he thinks he might just simply pass out from embarrassment. (You as well)

• He tells you he doesn't really care as long as you're happy. But this man does not let Shinsou live it down.

• Bro is fighting for his life during training the next day being worked so hard.

• Shinsou eventually gets back on your dad's good side and he comes over for weekly dinners.

I fear I may have an obsession with dadzawa.. and Shinsou.. I'm simply js a girl though. Anyways I hope you enjoyed :) <3 happy reading!

[rottiens]

contents. satoru gojō x fem reader, alcohol consumption, all the characters are adults, secret relationship au.

"How many shots would you have to take to kiss Gojo?" Nanami asks the group as his eyes are on you, you laugh against the bottle stumbling against your lips. 

The question isn't out of place since you just answered that you would kiss Principal Yaga after taking at least about five shots out of respect and how nervous he makes you feel. However everyone knows what your relationship with Satoru is like, so the question catches you off guard. 

"Zero." Shoko answers for you and Satoru looks at her over the sunglasses, clearly displeased. "There's not enough alcohol in the world to make her kiss him." 

"Oh, no, no, wait... she's really thinking about it!" Haibara points an accusing finger at you and you can't help but laugh again, you feel the skin on your cheeks stretch and burn from the silly grin you can't wipe off. Satoru's stalking gaze feels like a torch on the back of your neck. 

You pretend to think it humming out loud, though the answer is clear to you. "At least about ten," you say, tilting the bottle up to your mouth, getting the group around the campfire to laugh filling the beach with echoes. 

"Heeey." Satoru pinches your forearm which makes you look at him, a tiny pout is later replaced by a couple of wrinkles on his forehead.

"What?" you ask softly and have to force your hands to stay still and not reach out to touch him. 

"Ten shots? That's almost an alcoholic coma."

"There are actually many things that could influence an ethyl coma," Kento clarifies.

"You can't explain much about alcohol to a person who doesn't drink." Your numb brain is sure that was Hibara, too lazy to check since your eyes were still on Satoru who was still indignantly staring at you. 

"What?" you repeat almost in a whisper. 

"Nothing." His attention returns to the campfire, the heat from the fire burns his pink cheeks and the bright flame dances on his face making his eyes look much lighter mimicking the shade of the sea at midday. 

Satoru pushes his glasses up on top of the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes completely. 

"I'm going to get more beer," you say looking at the group, then tug on Satoru's arm to help him up, who does so reluctantly. "Can you help me with the box?" 

He walks beside you without adding anything else, shaking the sand out of his red shorts and pushing his hair out of his face. 

"Are you really upset?" The answer was obvious but you had to make sure, Satoru walks silently, sinking his feet aggressively into the sand until you reach the parking lot where your toes have never felt more grateful to touch solid ground. "Hey?" you tug on his hand and stop your steps, standing still in front of him. 

"Hhm?"

"Are you really upset?" 

"No," Satoru assures, avoiding your eyes.  

"Satoru, did you really want me to tell them that I would kiss you sober? Without a drop of alcohol?" 

You see him licking his lips battling with himself on whether to stay annoyed with you or understand your point. 

"I know."  

"I thought we were going to go slow..." 

"I know!" His hands cradle your cheeks tenderly, bringing his face up to meet yours to leave a kiss on your lips. "I was dying to touch you." 

"You know we didn't go public for you." You remind him, letting him rest his forehead on top of yours. The artificial taste of the strawberry beer he drank earlier sneaks into your mouth in little gasps. 

"Let's do it when we get back to the city," Satoru murmurs, brushing his lips over yours. "I think they know anyway." Oh, you're sure they know. You're both too obvious but you didn't want to push your boyfriend when he told you he wasn't ready to admit in front of everyone to officially having a partner. "But I don't like having to hold your hand on the sly or sneak out of meetings so I can kiss you and God, I'm just addicted to that watermelon gloss you use."

You laugh giving him fleeting little kisses, taking advantage of the position to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. 

"Just admit you're addicted to me, Satoru." 

"Maybe I am..." He says in that tone that indicates danger. That voice that tells you you're not going back to the group you had run away from. 

Satoru squeezes your waist possessively, his fingers trace on your sun-toasted skin and you moan between his half-opened lips the moment he asks for your tongue silently, his nose stumbling against yours. 

"We should get back..." you say in a whisper, remembering this fact more to yourself than to him.  

"We can disappear for ten minutes..." Pause. His lips move to your collarbone and his warm breath tickles you. "Fifteen minutes..." Pause. Small bites along your jaw take him to your neck. "Twenty..." His tongue dances over your salty skin, gently licking what he can reach and has to physically force himself not to suck. 

"It's never ten minutes..." you say between a choked moan, tugging at his strands sweetly until he's looking at you again. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes from you but his mouth is at your disposal, half open, red and appetizing and the tiny freckles that bathe his nose make your stomach knot. 

He grunts, as if battling with himself to understand that you are right. Satoru brings his face to the line of your neck and sighs heavily, leaving one last kiss to pull away from you against his will. 

"Let's go back then," he says resignedly. And he had never wanted the weekend to pass as quickly as he wanted it to now, being the impatient person he is, he didn't want to wait to have your hand entwined with his and fill his chest with raw pride where he could finally admit in front of everyone that you were his.

[primalsharkman]

Petty? Pretty.

Kim Chaewon x M Reader | 🔞 Smut

[Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivals, Fake Dating]

Word Count: 5,385

You sighed as you put the pen down at the table. It was your final exam for the year, meaning that all your hard work has officially paid off. The projects you made were certainly extraordinary, definitely leagues apart for the company you were in. However, the pressure of coming in second was like a pump shotgun being shot into the back of your head multiple times. You know, you cannot let Chaewon win again this year.

Of course, Kim Chaewon. The school's greatest academe mind since, ever. Always getting the top grades, the top approval, and all the top boys. The latter which, you really didn't care for. But she had the run of the mill, taking the best with her for her own pleasure. Stories and rumors of her taking the university's quarterback spread around like wildfire. She'd deny it, but everyone knew otherwise.

You roamed around the halls in deep thought, the heavy weight of your books in your hand was very aching, but you were close to dumping them into your locker.

"Finally..." You sighed after arriving at your locker and opening the combination, and only then dumping the books inside.

Vacation was on your mind, but you knew the year isn't over yet. A familiar scent was on your tail, and you knew exactly who wears that specific perfume in your school.

Turning around, you found the academic goddess herself, standing beside you with her bag slinging by her side and giving you a stare. "I hope you did better than you did last year, it was almost too easy for me to beat you." Chaewon said, confidently and with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at her and crossed your arms, "I've had enough of your gloating, Kim. You're an egomaniac and you really need to get yourself checked before you break down once you see I did better than you."

"Big talk for someone who's only ever beaten me once, in a team debate, no less." Her voice pierced through your heart, and it did hurt. Sure, you did never beat her one on one, but you fought her so hard that you'd get recognized and put in the same conversations as her name did.

"What do you want, Kim? Are you just going to ogle your tits in front of me? Because let's be real, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years." She just chuckled at the statement and gave your crotch a light tap using her wrist.

"Trust me, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years too. But there is something I need." That was when you just smiled at her and closed your locker before walking away from her.

Chaewon panicked and followed your pace, keeping up by your side. "H-hey, I just said I need your help!" You waved her off before she grabbed your wrist and sped up to drag you away from the halls and into an empty area away from the students.

"Listen, I know we've had our differences but this is about prom." At this point was already looking at you like she made up her mind and she will do everything to convince you.

You sighed. "Let me guess, you want me to go with you to the prom?"

"Yes."

"I don't think we should, Chaewon."

"But we could win prom king and queen."

"Does that even matter?"

"If it means beating Yunjin and her very clingy boyfriend, yes."

You just stared into her eyes after that quick exchange, but you knew how insufferable the school couple was. They were everywhere, being flirty and just rubbing it in people's noses. It was a sight.

Pacing around the room and opening a window, it was easy to see that this was an opportunity to get your name trending again. But was it worth it when Chaewon's name is going to be beside yours?

"Okay, but I will dictate the ground rules. You will wear a black dress, you will do the talking, telling people that we got together recently and that you were the first to fall for me." Chaewon just looked at you angrily while the demands were being listed.

"Ugh, fine. I'll pay that price just to stick it to her. Just see how she likes it." She may hate you, but she really doesn't like being upstaged, and unfortunately for Yunjin, she got in the way.

A quick thought entered your mind. "Oh and one more thing," Chaewon turned around. "... You're not allowed to fall in love with me."

She just smiled, "Won't be a problem, I'll see you at my place then. Don't forget to bring flowers. Ciao~" She said as she left the vicinity. You were left standing there with nothing but your bag in hand, and shortly afterwards you went home.

_____________________________________________

The drive to Chaewon's was fast, thanks to the traffic not holding people up. Her apartment was still 3 floors up, so you had to climb up the flgiht of stairs to reach her door and give her a knock.

"God why did I listen to her..." You whisper to yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers in your hand as your cheeks fill with a red blush.

Chaewon opened the door and gave you a judging smirk. "For once, you finally listen to me huh?"

Embarrassed, you just looked away and handed her the flowers, which she gladly took and had a whiff of them. "They're pretty, okay? Don't be too shy, you're acting like this is real." She giggled as she went down the stairs waiting for you.

You opened the door for her, and she went inside without a word. You breathed out a sigh of relief and went back inside the driver's seat and started driving.

It was mostly a silent trip, neither even giving each other exchanging hi's and just humming to the song playing on the radio. It was nerve-wracking for you, as she can just say anything crazy in a second.

But then you heard a sweet and soft voice speak, it was soothing to the ear and yet you know Chaewon is never this soft and sweet. "So, this is it. Time to act flirty, you'll take care of me right?" You just nodded at her, "Just behave like a good girl and we'll win your petty prize." Getting out of the car and you open the door and take her hand before guiding her inside the venue.

The vibe around the prom was magnificent. It was themed as a romantic getaway, with beach designs and a drawing of a sunset as the backdrop for the stage. You can only look around as the people start filling in the place and you stare at Chaewon.

You weren't kidding yourself, she was looking spectacular. She left the flowers in the car but even with just one flower tucked on her ear, just looking at her makes your heart skip a beat.

You found some seats for you and Chaewon to sit in, it was in plain sight so everyone could see that the two of you are in this prom together. You put your arm around Chaewon and she gladly put her hands on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch.

"Dangerous game you're playing here. Be careful not to touch anything." You gulp as you say those words.

You only heard a small chuckle as she whispered, "Try not to get hard okay? We don't want you going in the bathroom leaving me out here don't we?" She sure has her way of being very provocative.

Yunjin and her boyfriend finally showed up, dressed perfectly to compliment each other's styles. Everyone was astounded at their sight, looking like the royal couple, everyone was reminded of who they really are.

The grunt Chaewon releases between her lips was pretty cute, she was angry, but most of all she was very petty. "Okay, time to turn up the heat." Those were the last words you heard before you felt her lips crash into yours.

Her kiss felt like floating in space freely. It felt freeing and wonderful. Next thing you know, you were making out with your rival and the event hasn't even begun. You could get lost in this feeling forever, and you wanted to stay in this moment. Somehow, someway, Kim Chaewon is a perfect match for you. The way she holds you, the way she wraps her hands around you, it is truly something worthwhile.

These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud music entering your ears once you realize she let go. "...What the fuck was that for?" was all you can conjure up for your first, and possible the best kiss of your life.

"Gotta show them who's boss. And right now, we have the mental advantage. Everyone's looking at us right now." You did look around to see them whispering and muttering to each other about what they saw, even Yunjin was perplexed when she took her seat nearby.

"If this doesn't end in sex, i'm dropping you off the side of the highway." You claimed jokingly.

"Ha! As if you'd actually want to fuck me."

"With a kiss like that, now I know why all the boys want you."

"Is that a fact?"

"Oh shut up, i'm giving you a genuine compliment." Chaewon smiles after hearing that and gives you another kiss. This time, it's even more passionate. Your pants were starting to tighten and it got really, really heated. You knew you had to get some food to calm yourself down before your primal instincts take over and bend her down the table and fuck her brains out.

Once you broke the kiss, you asked her. "Do you want me to get you a plate or no?"

"Okay, boyfriend. Go get me a plate." She hit your balls again as you stood up and you lightly kicked at her feet before walking towards the catering.

Right now, you didn't give a shit about the deal you made. It doesn't matter whether you win prom king and queen, because pretending to be her partner was already a thin line to walk on, but now that she's being very playful and teasing you to great extent, you might not last the night.

You got her the plate, and you sat back down next to her. Before she could even mutter a word you just dug into the food. Thankfully she didn't say anything and just ate.

Thank god no one bothered you two, just having people pass by and smile or even give a simple wave is enough. Chaewon was a tiger in academics but socially, she is so much worse. There's a reason she doesn't have a clique, or even a best friend. She just preferred studying and going at it alone. Even with projects, you saw firsthand how she asked the professors if she could do it alone. She was granted her wishes, and she's done better than all of them. You were no slouch of course but, you're not insane enough to do group work solo.

"Let's go dance. We need to be as cute as we can." She said as she put down her fork and wiped her lips with a tissue.

"Don't fucking tap my balls again, you stand up first." Chaewon nodded and stood up, waiting for you to join her.

Taking her hand, you guided her to the dance floor and thankfully, the music was set low. There were a few people on the floor including the royal couple but the spotlight was on you. Nobody thought the two best minds in the entire university would be on good terms, let alone dating.

Chaewon did her best to act as subby as possible, knowing that it was her best chance to win those votes. She smiled, giggled at your jokes and even started talking to the other students on the dance floor while you roamed her around in the dance. If this was the Chaewon you saw in school everyday, you might've just fallen for her instantly.

"Hey, look at me for a while would you?" You said as you grabbed her chin and made her face you.

"What do you want? I'm trying to win us some favor here..." She said in a quiet but rage-filled voice.

"Is it so bad for a couple to actually look at each other and talk? Come on, you know better than that."

Chaewon just nodded and looked at you. Your heart melted through every wall you ever put up once she did. How in the hell are you falling for Chaewon? You know how she is. You know every dirty tactic and every move she's done to you. You hated how she tapped your balls everytime she found an opening. You hated the way she liked other boys. You hated it when you found out she was absent for a week due to a fever. You hated missing her. You hated falling for her at every step of the way.

Chaewon yelped when you firmly grabbed her waist, pulled her close and straightened her hair out behind her ear. "If you're gonna kiss me, I'd do it that way too."

You ignored her words and just kissed her. You didn't care if everyone was watching, you didn't care if anyone actually wanted to see it. All you wanted to do was kiss your rival. The rival you desperately tried to hate because you knew she'd never love you. The rival you never asked out because she was too busy studying her tits out. The rival you only ever loved.

As you let the kiss go, Chaewon stared at you for a moment. She immediately let that go and went back to being the same Chaewon you know. For that night, she belonged to you. And you took full advantage of that fact. You ate, you danced, you loved. It was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

It was over soon enough, and you remembered why you were there in the first place. You breathed in heavily and made Chaewon put her arm around your waist as you waited for the announcements. You didn't even listen to the announcement, all you did was feel her touches and let her hear the names she wanted to being called. Next thing you know, you were up there with her, taking a ribbon and a crown. It was pretty funny looking, but seeing Chaewon's face light up is a pretty good sight. You smiled at the crowd and thanked them for the vote.

This was when Chaewon broke free. She let you go and went to the car so she could celebrate her victory. You followed suit and went back in your car.

"Well, i've had my fill of achievements for the day. Take me home." You just nodded and drove. It was a pretty slow night drive. You didn't go over 40, mostly because you just wanted to enjoy her company more.

"That's all you wanted? Seems pretty shallow to go through all that trouble." You said.

"Then I'm shallow. All I care about is that I am on top again." Spoken as softly as she could.

"You do realize we're gonna have to break up during the summer right? I can't fake date you forever."

"Then let's break up."

"Fine."

"Fine." She just crossed her arms and sat on the passenger's seat and stayed quiet.

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

You parked your car in the back, you wanted to clear your head space once you drop her off back at her door but you just stayed in the car first, and so did she.

The crickets chirping made the deafening sound of night feel, not so deafening. You took time to process everything that happened in there, and you looked at Chaewon, who seems to be doing the same thing.

"Hey, can I see your cock?"

"What the fuck, Chaewon?"

"Don't be a fucking pussy about it."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Why not?"

"Because... because I'm not sure if I like you or not."

"What?" Her eyes grew wider as you dropped those words.

"Just... let me think, okay? You were out here all night flirting with me like... it felt real chaewon. It felt real, all of it."

"You don't have to think about it..."

"Oh so now you're trying to restrict my thoughts of you? Don't play games with me Chaewon."

"I'm not!"

"Then why—"

"Just listen to me! You boar-headed dipshit! I like you too! Okay?! Is that enough?!"

You two just looked at each other with your eyebrows furrowed and neither of you were able to land a word after she confessed her feelings to you.

"I like you too. I didn't want to, but I like you! Get that through your thick fucking skull." She said angrily.

It was a lot to process. You both broke the rule of not falling for the other. And now you are at each other's throats because you both were confused and angry that the person both of you were trying to beat at every turn, was someone you actually were into.

If academics didn't mean a thing, you two would probably have hit it off at some point. But unfortunately, that pressure got to you both. For the first time, the weight of that pressure was actually lifted and you could only breathe out a strong, relieving sigh.

"Damn your kisses, Chaewon." You joked.

"Oh boo-hoo." She went for you and kissed you again. This time climbing out of her chair and sitting on your lap. This time, the kiss was different. It was more carnal than romantic. There was more tongue involved as you swing yours with hers and intertwined then as the shared kiss continued.

You grabbed her waist, and slowly reached out those hands into her ass. She gave out a lot moan and adjusted her position so you have full access to her plump, round ass.

She leaned her kisses towards your cheek and towards your ear, where you can hear every small moan and whimper she lets out of her mouth.

The hands you had around her ass were fondling them and enjoying the soft cushions they gave you. Chaewon was already getting wet, but you have yet to know that. You didn't want to go over what she considers her boundaries so you didn't move a muscle.

She felt your cock under her getting bigger and she just looked into your eyes. "Hey... we should take this inside."

You nodded and opened the door so she can climb out. You followed her and locked your car before heading up those dreaded stairs to her door. Once the two of you get there, she immediately opened it with her keys and dragged you inside by your collar.

It only took a shut of the door for her to throw herself at you with another kiss, jumping into your arms so your hands can carry her thighs as she wrapped her legs around you.

"Fuck..." you could only mutter as she rained down heavy kisses on your lips, your ears, and even your neck. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, and for your virgin ass, you went along for the ride.

"Take me to my bed. And take that goddamn suit off already."

"Yes, baby." You dragged your feet through the room and plopped her down the bed. You untied your necktie and threw it across the room. She kneeled on the bed as you stood over her, and she grabbed your polo and unbuttoned each and every single one while giving you the hungriest look a horny woman can give.

It was obvious she was having fun playing this game, and it felt like hell for you. Your cock was twitching in your pants and it started to hurt. She noticed you wincing and took off the polo before unbuckling the belt in your pants.

Her head was dangerously close to your cock and your hand moved itself to brush her hair and hold it down to your crotch, which was her eye-level. She pulled it all down and your cock sprung to hit her nose.

"Ow..." she said as she grabbed the hard cock in her hands, smiling.

"Your hands are pretty nice..."

"It fits your cock really well." She giggled and hummed as she dragged her hand down the length of your cock as you moan out quietly. She knew not to put too much pressure and she knew the perfect way to touch your cock and give you the pleasure your body is used to.

All you could do was grab her hair and turn it into a makeshift ponytail, where she smirked. "You know what it means when a guy does that to a girl right?"

"I think so. Do I get a guess?"

"No. You just get to feel your consequences." Her lips enveloped itself around the head of your cock, and the heat from her mouth makes you hold on the ponytail tighter.

She looks up at you as she takes your cock in painfully slow, licking along the way. You were panicking as the pleasure was getting too much for you, and Chaewon was just getting started. You didn't want to be a 10-second wonder.

She kept working around your cock, drenching it in her spit and sucking it like it was her final project. She's making sure it felt perfect.

Your legs were shaking at this point, your cheeks turning red at the possibility of you not being able to control yourself and not cum in her mouth. These sensations got you to let her hair go and put your hand on the wall nearby so you won't fall down.

Chaewon dragged her mouth down to the last inch of your cock, and tightly pulled out giving your cock a light lick at the end before she sat up and looked at you. "You're gonna cum, aren't you?"

"I'm trying so hard not to." You decided to be honest with her.

She pulled your waist down so you're sitting beside her. She gave you a smile and said, "Cum inside my mouth. I really want to know how nerd tastes." She giggled as she went down on your cock again, not holding out anymore and giving you the most sloppy and disgustingly heavenly blowjob you've ever had.

Her tongue was circling around your length as she bobbed her head up and down. You couldn't even speak due to how good she was sucking your cock. All you could do was grip her sheets and moan out her name again and again.

Her lips kissed your underside, and her free hand gave your balls some love, fondling them. She took your cock inside again and deepthroated every inch you can give her.

She was blushing. She enjoyed sucking cock, especially if that cock belonged to someone she knew on a personal level from many years ago. Sure, it was all on hatred, but she knew you better than anyone, and that turned her on even more.

Your cock was twitching in her mouth, she knew you weren't gonna last longer, so she pumped and sucked and the same time, and that was all it took for you to explode.

"M-ngmhHgh! Chaewon...! mmgh! fuck!" That was the most coherent sentence you can come up with while your body was in ecstacy. Orgasming to the point not even you have reached before.

Her mouth stayed where it was, your cum filling her cheeks as she swallowed each strand of cum, one stroke after another.

When she was done, she sucked your cock to clean it, and wiped her lips off before laughing.

"Nerd doesn't really taste different from jock. But I gotta say, your cock was so much cleaner and doesn't smell as bad."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yeah, no one sucks cock better than me."

You sat up and put a hand around her thigh. "So, what's next?"

She smiled as she pushed you down, "You're the first guy to ask for what I want."

You turned your head to look at her and she was taking off her dress, and you were watching her show off her body to you.

You were blushing but the next thing you see was her towering over you, and you get a VIP look of her beautiful pussy. It was shaven, it was perfect, and you wanted a piece.

Your mouth opened and she smiled before lowering herself down to you and sitting down on your face. She grinded slowly as you moved your tongue to eat her pussy out.

Her taste was a new sensation to you. The first time you've ever ate pussy, and you're already getting addicted to her taste. She was sweating and that only added to the tang of her flavor, you dug your tongue deep in her folds.

Your tongue found her hole opening up and you slid it in. "Oh..! Good boy... that's a good boy..." Chaewon muttered while hissing and holding on to your hair.

You closed your eyes and moved you head to tongue fuck her, as she moaned loudly like she had no neighbors. She gripped her bedside and bounced on your tongue as she kept moaning.

"Yes... baby... oh fuck! come on..." She kept hissing and moaning under the sensation of your upper lip kissing her clit and tongue fucking her. You picked up the pace and held on her thighs, taking your tongue out of her hole and focusing on licking the clit fast and good.

"Oh it has been a while! Yes! Don't you dare fucking stop, don't stop, don't stop!" She kept screaming while grinding her pussy on your tongue on her clit. You put more pressure by pushing your tongue into her sensitive clit more and more as she gets brought to the brink of her orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum! Please, don't stop! I'll get off if I want you to stop, okay? Please just... ah! Keep going!" Chaewon says as she reaches her orgasm and grinds on you harder as her moans become more hoarse and heavy.

You kept licking her to destroy her senses and feel an seemingly un-ending orgasm for Chaewon. She got off you and laid down the bed before catching her breath.

"Where... how did you learn... to eat pussy like that?"

"I never did. I only know the clit is the most sensitive part so, I guessed."

"You're a natural then, god damn. Despite being a nerd, that knowledge came in handy. Try using that knowledge to beat me next year okay?"

"What if I beg you to lose for once?"

"That's a price you don't wanna know." She smirked as she recovers.

"More pussy eating?"

"I have a list of demands. I'd rather show them to you before we start school next year."

"Good. But we're not done here Chae." You show her your hardened cock once again, showing her you have recovered from her blowjob.

Chaewon smirks and lifts her ass a little bit. "I want it deep, hard, and fast. None of that slow, methodical, romantic bullshit."

"You got it." You lined yourself up behind her and didn't even hesitate to stroke your cock and slide it deep in her.

"Mmph! Good! Just like that." All Chaewon could do was moan on her pillow as you started picking up the pace and fucking her pussy like your life depended on it.

You grabbed her ass and spanked it, earning a yelp from the girl. She kept asking for more, so you put a strong hold on her hips and crashed your cock deep inside her wet pussy again and again and again.

The sound of your sex was echoing across the room, it was erotic and accompanied with her moans after every thrust, it was truly music to your ears.

"Yes! Your cock is so big inside me! I love every single inCh of it! Mmm!"

Slapping her ass, you kept your mouth open and joined her moaning. "Good god Chaewon, your pussy is so good! So wet and so fucking delicious." You gave her ass another slap.

"Ah! So it is! Fuck I wanna fuck you again and again. Please, make me cum again, make me yours and I won't ever be a bitch around you again!"

"Good girl, I like that." You pulled her arms back into you and grabbed her head so your face is buried in her neck while you fuck her from behind.

"F-Fuck! Rub my clit!" You follow her command and rub her clit in the same pace you're fucking her pussy.

Her moans get even louder and you had to use your hand to cover it up so her neighbors wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Her bed was rocking and it was making a lot of noise. Between the creaking, the moaning, the sloshing sounds the sex was making, it was very hard to hide the fact you were fucking her like a machine.

She kept begging for you to cum inside her and you keep telling her to wait. You were looking for your orgasm but she was ready to unload hers.

"I'm gonna fucking squirt all over! Please I want your cum! I'm gonna fucking... ah!" You pulled out as you felt gushes of water from under her. You held on to her neck as she gripped your arm tightly while she was squirting. Your arm reached down and rubbed her clit so it felt extra pleasureable to her.

"God! I made a mess..." She yelped before you took her body and lied it down on the dry part of the bed and kissed her hard.

You slid your cock back in and fucked her in missionary. Her legs were up in the air as she was moaning in your kiss. The thrusts your cock was giving to her kept sloshing as the rest of her squirt and the never ending wetness of her pussy was lubricating your cock to the point where it looked like cum.

She already came multiple times and she wasn't going to stop, until you did. "What is taking so long?! Mm! My pussy is destroyed here... you need to fill me up, please daddy."

That was the last straw. The final push you needed. Once you heard her say daddy, your senses kicked into overdrive and you fucked her like a machine one more time before unloading your second round of cum in her pussy.

This orgasm hit you like a truck, it felt good, but once it was finished you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. It was tiring and you were drained.

"I guess... daddy is the magic word then." Chaewon giggled as she wrapped her arms around you and pecked your lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you. You must've been so surprised."

"No, actually. I knew you were tightening up when your cock pulsated aggresively. So I expected the creampie sooner."

"God damn it, you're not gonna get pregnant now are you?"

"I'll be okay. I wouldn't have let you fuck if I was in danger of getting pregnant anyway." She giggled again.

"Really? Even after the kissing we've done earlier?" You sound a bit perplexed at this point.

"I'm not an idiot. I'm smarter than you, remember? Don't feel superior just because I called you daddy once."

"I'm just curious, no need to gloat."

She kissed your cheek and chuckled. "I'm okay, you don't need to worry."

You nodded and pulled out her before lying down beside. "So, what now?"

"What about it?" She looked upwards at the ceiling.

"What are we?"

"Right now? I can't say."

"We just told each other we liked each other. What else is there to think about?"

Chaewon playfully hits your arm. "You need to court me, genius."

"Wouldn't you just say yes immediately?"

"I probably would."

You held her hand and kissed it. "So, will you be my girlfriend?"

Chaewon smiles, and turns towards you. "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

~FIN~

A/N: That was rough for a first fic, I didn't proof read this so I'm open to suggestions and whatnot. Twitter is the same handle as this one, you know where to find me.

[luveline]

jadey!! would you ever write something for spencer where reader gets tipsy/drunk and is all over him? i just think he would be so cute and flustered, especially if she isn’t usually this forward with him (either established relationship or mutual crushing!)

thanks for your request lovely♡ —you really want spencer to be your boyfriend. fem!reader, 1k

The smell of your lip balm is the very first thing Spencer acknowledges, rather than the soft press of your lips to his cheek, or your hand on his neck. When he does realise you're kissing him it's like a shock to the system; Spencer hadn't thought about what his neck might feel like to a new hand until you're cupping it sweetly, hadn't worried about the neatness of his hair before you ran a hand over it with reverence. 

"Thanks for coming to pick me up," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Best boyfriend ever." 

Which is a great sentiment and all, but Spencer isn't your boyfriend. He holds your back in one arm, the other busy strangling his shiny car keys, his mind racing. He isn't your boyfriend. Right? You have to ask someone for it to be official (according to Derek, Penelope, and Emily) (JJ was a little more lax about it) and Spencer's been too scared to ask you. 

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. You're wobbly. 

"Super drunk," you say, like it's one word, a diagnosable affliction. "Sorry." 

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be sober for me to drive you home. I'm really glad you called me." 

You're drunk enough to miss his confused tones. "No,  I'm sorry 'cos I knew you'd say yes even though you hate driving. I honestly didn't even think you had a car." 

Spencer pulls you closer as a couple stumbles out of the same bar you'd been inside of, though when he arrived you were sitting on the cold sidewalk with your knees pulled up and your dress slipping out of place. He adjusts his grip to put an arm under yours and begins leading you toward to the parking lot. 

"Next time, I'll come inside to get you, okay? I don't think I need statistics to remind you that it's not safe to be inebriated by yourself in the city, especially now." It's pitch black outside, stars like a scattering of tint salt grains visible to only the most dedicated of eyes. "It's dangerous for you. I don't mind coming in to find you." 

"You're the nicest," you declare, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 

He's fitter than he used to be, but Spencer doesn't have a chance of getting you to the car if you're not conscious. "Hey, keep your eyes open. It's not far, okay? Work with me."

"Will you call me something nice if I do?" you ask. 

Spencer helps you down off of the curb and across a naked stretch of asphalt shining like grease in the light from the lamppost. "I'll call you whatever you want me to." 

"You called me pretty on Thursday." 

Spencer feels the heat of a blush blooming at your slurred proclamation but doesn't back down. "You looked pretty on Thursday. You look pretty every single day. Watch the curb." 

"What about, uh, pet names?" 

"Like what?" he asks. 

"Like honey, and sweetheart. Angel, doll, dove." 

"Is that what you want?" he asks, trying to sneak a look at your face. You're concentrating hard on your footsteps, your tall shoes slippery on the wet ground. 

"If we're together…" 

"Are we together?" Spencer asks. He shouldn't ask while you're drunk, and it's not like he's going to take your word for it now over any sober discussion in the future, but he wants to know. 

"You don't think we're together?" you ask, frowning. He's horrified to see the crushed tremble in your lip. 

"I haven't had the chance to ask you yet," he says quickly. 

You sniffle, looking at him with a wide-eyed hope. "But you're going to ask me?" 

"Yeah, I'm going to ask you." He lowers his voice. He's not afraid of other people hearing him. If anything, he's afraid you will. He's afraid you'll hear him and reject him, despite every sign that says you won't. "I've wanted to ask you for a really long time, but you're– I was scared. You're beautiful, and kind, and you make me feel like I've found something I was missing, now. I guess I thought holding off would change the odds." 

"I thought you got banned from all those casinos," you say, clinging to his arm. 

Spencer's nose wrinkles. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

"You count cards and pr… probability," —you sound it out— "right? Have you not been doing that with me?" 

Spencer stops walking to help you pull your jacket back onto your bare shoulder. It's too cold to stay out here long. "It's different. You're different." 

"Oh." You smile at him dreamily. Eyes squinting until your lashes kiss in the corners, you smile like your lips have been stuck together with honey. You pout at him very gently, and he thinks you might want a kiss.

Spencer pats your back. "Come on. I'll take you home. You can sleep it off." 

"Can I come home with you?" 

He sees his car in the distance, a beacon of hope. "Yeah, if you want. But I don't have any pyjamas or anything for you." 

"Not yet," you say. 

Spencer goes pink to the ears, and unfortunately for him, you notice. You refuse to walk a step further, throwing heavy arms over his shoulders to beam at him eye to eye. Your fingers tangle gently into the ends of his hair and twist in circles that have butterflies exploding in his stomach. His breath catches when you tug on a strand, clearly bemused. 

"I really want to be your girlfriend." 

"I–" He swallows roughly. "I really want you to be my girlfriend." 

"Will you ask me?" 

"Tomorrow?" he asks delicately. He might be shy with you, but he has no qualms now showing you how vehemently he returns your affections, his arms curling slowly but surely behind your back. 

You fall into his arms for another hug. "Yesssss," you cheer under your breath. 

He sneaks a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Wanna go get something to eat first?" 

You gasp like you've been offered the world. "You really are the best boyfriend." 

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor and reader's wedding? What did her dress look like? How did Al react to her wallking down the isle?? PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW

I always cry at weddings 😭 😭 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Possessive Alastor, FEELINGS

Description: ☝️⬆️

If you two got married when you were alive, then I imagine it was a very small and intimate ceremony

You and Alastor did a lot of the decorating yourselves, even making your own wedding cake because Alastor can BAKE

You two had a blast doing it too, turning everything into a little game and making deals over who could set things up the fastest/nicest

Winner gets a kiss from the loser

You two would likely only invite your closest friends and relatives(if you were close with your family that is)

If Alastor's mother was still alive by the time you guys got engaged then she 110% would be there(I genuinely don't remember when she died soooooo)

She would absolutely be his best man because who else would be worthy of such a position??

Happy tears from her the entire time

This woman will walk you down the aisle if she has to, she won't let you walk alone on your big day

Not Alastor holding back tears at the sight of his mother and soon to be wife walking towards him

Mimzy would also have been there, and she would've fought for her right as maid of honor, like physically fought off her competitors

You're haunted by the memory of it, actually

Absolutely sticks her nose in everything but only because she wants it to be perfect for you two

She will tear up anyone who throws a wrench in the ceremony and will run it better than she did her own club

"These floors better be SPOTLESS! If I see a single speck of dust on that dress-"

She probably insisted on paying for the wedding too

Alastor would probably have a last minute freak out at the thought that this is actually happening, he's getting married

But he wouldn't be nervous about you leaving him at the altar or anything like that, just normal wedding jitters

But he's resolute in the fact that he wants this, he wants to be your husband and share his life with you

And he definitely doesn't want anyone else thinking there's a chance they can take you from him

Alastor is positively radiating warmth and pride by the time you're walking down the aisle, blown away by how stunning you look

Whether the dress is unique, traditional or not even a wedding dress-he's amazed by just how good you look in it

It makes his mouth water

He's lowkey preening for you the entire time

It just makes everything seem more real to him, immediately reaching out to take your hands in order to keep himself grounded in reality

He actually is at a loss for words for once...

"You look really handsome..."

The sight of your happy blush brings him back, and he's pressing his forehead to yours

"And you look nearly as good as I do, my dear~"

Ass

The slight quiver in his smile, glassy eyes and tight grip on your hands gives him away though, you know what he really means

You look heavenly to him

Neither you or Alastor listen to a word the officiant says, too busy gazing lovingly at one another to pay them any mind

And you're definitely not getting distracted at the feeling of his thumbs gently caressing over your hands

When it comes to the vows, Alastor definitely puts his heart and soul into trying to make you cry at words

He's putting on a show for you but you love it ❤️

He looks smug as hell when he finishes

His gaze becomes softer as you say your own vows, smile becoming a little more gooey as you make his heart race

"And if anyone is opposed to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Not Alastor and Mimzy giving death glares to anyone who would even dare saying anything

As if you two even invited anybody who would fucking try

"You may now kiss-"

Alastor doesn't even wait for him to finish, tugging you close and kissing you deeply

And once your arms wrap around his neck then maybe the kiss gets a little too intimate

Mimzy is whistling and cheering while Alastor's mother is politely looking away from you two

You two barely pull away to breathe before he kisses you again, seemingly unable to stop

He just can't believe he's kissing his wife

That he's your husband and everyone is going to know that you're not on the market anymore

Not that you ever were before

It's an embarrassingly long time before you two stop, and you're left panting, rosy-cheeked, and weak in the knees

Alastor doesn't move his arm from your waist for the rest of the night, wanting to keep you close

The only time he does let you go is when he goes to dance with his mother or when it's your turn to dance with his mother

Not her giving you both embarrassing advice about the honeymoon and early married couple life

She wants grandkids dammit

When you two are cutting the cake, he does NOT slam a slice into your face but he does put a bit of frosting on your nose

Only to lick it off a moment later

🥵 BOI

If you do it back to him then he will be properly flustered because he was banking on the fact that you would be too shocked to react

He doesn't care about wedding gifts or anything like that but his mother's blessing means everything to him

So her approval of your marriage and you as her daughter in law just solidified how important you'll always be to him

But don't worry because Mimzy definitely made sure to hook you two up with gifts

Alastor literally can't stop kissing you afterwards, your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, ect

If you return even a smidgen of that affection back to him then it'll only make him more excited for your future together

He's not even thinking of the honeymoon, he's just overwhelmed with the urge to give you affection

He just thinks about how he'll never be tired of being your husband and having you as his wife

Waking up to you, going to bed with you, cooking with you, messing with you, hell even fighting with you sounds appealing because then he can make up with you

Alastor never really thought of himself as the type to get married but you came and completely changed that with your love

Even though he was difficult and fought falling in love with you with everything he had

You fought back harder to love him

Now that he's here with you, looking at the wedding band on your finger, the loving look on your face

Your hand on his cheek gently guiding him to look into your eyes as you lean in towards him

Feeling your lips on his own as you whisper loving things against them before kissing him

He's happy you won that fight

This one was a lot of fun!! I was originally going to do two versions of this! One wedding before you two died and one for after you both were dead but then I included his mom and-

I got very carried away

[intheholler]

re: hurricane helene hey, y'all. so... immense survivor's guilt, subsequent depression and an overall helpless malaise has made my presence on tumblr here weaker during this horrific time. but there's nothing like some good ol appalachian rage to light a fire under the proverbial ass so i'm back to push back on some of the bullshit i keep seeing get spread about what's happening in the aftermath of hurricane helene, and in western north carolina especially. 

appalachia has always been low hanging fruit for the rest of the nation, and now that disaster has struck and we are even more vulnerable than we have been in a long, long time, bad actors are using us as a way to further their political bullshit and conspiracies.

please use some of the cited-information below the cut to push back on and educate any family members, friends or otherwise when you see them spreading misinformation. now is your chance to help appalachia, no matter where you are in the united states. myths, rumors and other flavors of horseshit regarding hurricane helene debunked under the cut. please reblog.

Let me just get my heart out of the way before we get into the nitty gritty, cause I got things to say. #1: "Why should we help these people? They get these storms there all the time. They didn't move away or do anything to prepare for this, and now it's our responsibility?"

These storms are not at all commonplace. For much of this area, especially WNC, this level of flooding and damage--spanning an area the size of Belgium between NC and TN--is largely unprecedented. Growing up, we get told our mountains protect us, that they shield us from the really bad, and that's because historically, they have. Hurricanes blow through, and they bring with them hella wind and rain, but nothing like this.

We do not have the infrastructure for this, physical or otherwise. So many of our homes, businesses and everything in between have been standing for more than a century, unkept and brittle. Dams are breaking or near breaking because they are not meant to hold this kind of water. Our roads tend to follow creeks and rivers and thereby have been completely washed out. Keep in mind that in the individual hollers, and in most of these small mountain towns, we only got one road. You go up holler one way, and you don't come out the other side of it; you leave the way you came because it's the only path to take.

We are not built for this. We were not ready for this. We could not have prepared for this. And even if by some miracle we all received some premonition about this disaster, telling us to "just move" is NEVER the answer to vulnerable people living in volatile environments, especially ones as impoverished as Appalachia. Fuck you.

#2 "Appalachians are lazy and just want handouts, anyway."

First off--which one is it? Are we poor, pitiful fodder for concern trolls who deserve more than we're getting, or are we lazy, needy, greedy people who deserve to rot? Can't have both.

Second off--we been hearing that about us since the dawn of time. Wasn't true then, ain't true now.

Appalachia has been verifiably exploited as long as there have been people to exploit, but that is a topic long since discussed here.

We don't WANT anything. We NEED it. Alongside the aid coming in through donations, official search and rescue and organized volunteer services, much of the boots on the ground are Appalachians themselves!! We take care of our own, and it's always been that way.

They got people on foot hiking up into the hollers to bring supplies to cut-off communities. They got pack mules passing otherwise impassable roads where no car nor other vehicle can tread to get lifesaving necessities to the hollers. Look around, and you'll find countless stories. Just in my personal circle alone, I got a sister bringing supplies up by foot, and her hiking group is moving through so much toxic mud that the soles of their fucking boots are melting. I got a brother in law taking chainsaws to downed trees to clear the path for supply deliveries. I got another sister meeting friends of mine at the state line to collect donations and distribute them by hand to counties all over WNC. We can do this, but we can't do it alone.

#3 "It's a conspiracy/It's not that widespread outside of Asheville because we don't see pictures of anywhere else."

It's happening. It's fucking happening.

You don't see pictures because many of us don't have reliable cell service right now, let alone wifi. Hell, even in perfect weather there's a joke that you better have a friend with a cell phone from each provider when you go out because only one of you is getting service at any given time in any given place. There is no way to document this from the inside for many folks at this point in time, and there is NO WAY IN from the outside.

As I mentioned--you got one road leading up the holler. That road is now gone. No one is making it up the mountain to take pictures of these horrific scenes, y'all. If they're going up the mountain its to care for their neighbors, to bring supplies to individuals and entire communities so isolated by the devastation that the only way they can be reached is on foot (or hoof!).

Which also brings me to my next counterargument: "Nothing is being done to help."

#4 "Volunteers are being turned away/Donations are being confiscated."

Volunteers are being DISCOURAGED from coming in out of state, but they're not being told to leave with a malicious intent. And they are not even being forcibly denied. They can still come, but it's really not a good idea. As I mentioned, these roads wasn't meant to take this kind of damage. They are falling apart, and all this extra traffic coming in on these streets barely hanging on is making them worse and making it harder for organized relief and rescue operations to actually get in there. People are getting stuck and taking away time and resources that could be going to survivors. Outsiders with good intentions are eating up the scarce gas and using up even scarcer water. Some of these places, like Black Mountain, physically do not have enough hands to manage and distribute the amount of donations being brought in in, so they're getting rerouted. Donations are not fucking being confiscated.

#5 "They aren't letting people be rescued/They're closing the airspace off."

The airspace is OPEN, with some temporary restrictions in place by the FAA for civilians and volunteers. Civilians can still access airspace in coordination with officials and emergency responders. What they ain't allowing is people just flying in willy nilly. What they ain't letting in is unauthorized air traffic that is clogging up airspace which otherwise needs to be used by official aircraft to bring in donations/S&R groups. Airspace is still accessible in the area, but it's not safe to just have everyone with a big heart trying to search and rescue, especially with no training, organization or proper skills. What they ain't letting happen is people trying to take trucks up obliterated roads that can't be traveled, no matter how confident you are in your vehicle. Christ, y'all. The point isn't to add more bodies to the count!

#6 "National Guardsmen are being told not to go."

The National Guard HAS been deployed.

And in numbers, too. What you're hearing is rumor of people asking to be deployed and being told no, because that's not how it works. That's not how any of this works. People can't just rush in unorganized. There is a system. There has always been a system.

#7 "But I saw TikToks of people coming to help and locals shouting them out of town!"

Oh, honey. No, what you saw was people doing what they LOVE to do in Appalachia: take poverty tours. Record how we live. Post their poverty (and now disaster) porn with thoughts and prayers and oh those poor creatures to get likes. That's been happening to us since before TikTok. Before the internet.

During FDR's administration, photographers from the Farm Security Administration went down to collect poverty porn and turn it into Hollow Folk, a collection of photographs which was then used by eugenicists and corporations alike to dehumanize us further so we could be exploited and relocated with the favor of the nation behind them.

We're done with it. We been done with it. And now, in this time of crisis where people are DEAD, you're clogging up our roads, taking up our gas, AND shoving cameras in our face. Y'all ain't from here and now more than ever y'all kinds need to get the FUCK out.

✨ FEMA ✨

FEMA deserves its own section, because holy shit. I'm mad that I'm about to defend the man in any capacity but it needs to be done. So, I'm gonna preface this by saying, largely, fuck FEMA. There are many valid complaints against FEMA and their inefficiency, but right now is not the time to use them as a tool of misinformation against Appalachia. We got enough problems without pouring the salt of government conspiracies into these raw, gaping wounds that barely even have bandaids applied to them right now.

SO. Let's get into it.

#8 "This is all planned and by design/Don't evacuate, because FEMA is just gonna take your land and mineral rights!"

If they wanted the fucking lithium or anything else for that matter, they would just enact Eminent Domain. They don't need elaborate schemes and """weather control""" to take it. They can just literally... do it. Did we all fail civics in middle school?

(And this is purely anecdotal so I have no proof of this, but a friend of mine told me a few days ago people were actually being told NOT to evacuate in Lake Lure because they didn't anticipate the flooding to be this bad.)

What y'all SHOULD be worried about are these companies and their "disaster investors" who swoop in like fucking vultures and try to get people to sell their land before FEMA has a chance to assist them. These companies prey on the vulnerable, offering them quick cash for their land and for far less than they'd get if they held out for FEMA's relief instead.

#9. "But... but FEMA is only giving out a piddly $750 in relief!"

Yes, they are giving out $750. INITIALLY. This $750 is initial relief money for immediate needs. Medicine, food, supplies. It is NOT all that's being allocated to folks. From FEMA's website:

This is a type of assistance that you may be approved for soon after you apply, called Serious Needs Assistance. It is an upfront, flexible payment to help cover essential items like food, water, baby formula, breastfeeding supplies, medication and other emergency supplies. There are other forms of assistance that you may qualify for to receive and Serious Needs Assistance is an initial payment you may receive while FEMA assesses your eligibility for additional funds. As your application continues to be reviewed, you may still receive additional forms of assistance for other needs such as support for temporary housing, personal property and home repair costs.

A service being offered in the meantime, for example, is for temporary housing and you can still currently apply for it!

Long-term disaster relief funds are not being released immediately. That does not mean they do not exist.

Here is what FEMA has already allocated for North Carolina alone.

Please note I said "allocated" but not "paid out." Which brings me to my next point.

#10 "FEMA is giving their relief money to undocumented immigrants!"

This is false, and you can verify this for yourself. Cash payouts to undocumented immigrants isn't even a thing, dude. They haven't even paid out to citizens in their entirety yet. From the FEMA page "Questions and Answers for Undocumented Immigrants Regarding FEMA Assistance:"

This is in regards to STATE, LOCAL AND VOLUNTEER AGENCIES. Not through FEMA or any other federal programs. This is probably what people are hearing about, and not even bothering to look into it before running off to tell lies.

And in this, as you can see--undocumented immigrants who CAN receive assistance are not receiving cash. They are not just getting money handed over to them to spend on whatever your racist, xenophobic uncle thinks they are. FEMA is required by law to report on the use of their funds each month by the 5th day. Historically, it looks like it takes about a week for them to be posted. Keep an eye on this page to see for yourself in coming days that FEMA is not giving out money from their funds to immigrants.

#11 "But FEMA has appointees from Biden!!! How can we trust that this is the truth?!"

Please use critical thinking skills. Please, we beg. Yes, there are appointed FEMA officials from this administration, but there are also appointed officials from Trump's time in office. What sense does it make that during Trump's administration, FEMA employees were Good And Pure, and suddenly, just because they are active under Biden's administration, they are suddenly Evil And Corrupt? This is clear bias and has no solid footing.

Besides, the President doesn't even have any sway over FEMA funding like this. That is ALL congress.

H.R. 9747 "Continuing Appropriations and Extensions Act, 2025," which provides relief funding (among other things) for the 2025 fiscal year, was ACTIVELY VOTED AGAINST by Republicans, including Matt Gaetz and Marjorie Taylor Greene--two people spreading the bullshit the loudest. UGH. Okay. In exasperated conclusion: Please, please, PLEASE leave Appalachia alone and let us get back on our feet without having to constantly dodge dumbass conspiracy theories. We are heartbroken and grieving and would really appreciate a brief reprieve from being the nation's fucking punching bag. Help us, don't hurt us.

[uranometrias]

goodbye love, you flew right by , spencer reid

this was inspired by the season fourteen episode 'truth or dare'... it's my take on the jeid confession aftermath. listen to ceilings while you read, but don't think too deeply into it, because the story has a happy ending... this is only part 1 though, and it ends on a awkward/angsty note, so sorry. reader passes out from a head blow.

i wanted it to be short, but i have no self control.

you tried to keep your mind on your training, you didn't really have time to panic, you needed to stay calm. you focused all your energy on your breathing, willed your fear away with thoughts of better things. you didn't even want to focus on the fact that spencer was across from you, hands pinned behind his back as he stared up at the manic man that was currently holding you, your boyfriend, and your closest work friend hostage. you believed in your team, and what you were capable of, you knew without a doubt you'd make it out alive.

"casey..." spencer speaks, his voice has matured over the years, rightfully. he sounds so official, and you find yourself sitting a touch straighter at the sharpness behind his words. jj was standing up, eyes glued directly on your captor, her face was pinched up with the proof of her worry. she catches your eye, and looks forlorn, you only hope that she sees the resilience resting in your own eyes, as you try and offer a semblance of hope through your own gaze.

"shut up!" he shouts, and his gun is aimed at spencer. he spits the words out, quickly stomping towards jj as he forced her to the floor.

"okay, okay!" she exclaims, and it's clear that he's hurting her. his patience has run thin, and jj's plan of getting through to him by playing along with his sick 'truth or dare' game was proving to be all for not. your foot unconsciously begins to tap, likely a nervous habit that you have no time to unpack. you're still too busy trying to appear unbothered, it always seemed to tick the unsubs off when it seemed like their bravado meant nothing. that's what you needed. you couldn't afford to let him think that he scared you.

"last chance." and his gun's trained directly at jj's head. "something you'd never say aloud, not even to your friends here." and casey's whirling around to point the gun in your direction, you think it might have been a mistake for him to turn around. when he sees your foot tapping his face contorts, he's annoyed with you, angry with you. your arms are uncomfortable from the way they were taped together behind your back, and the foot tapping has become involuntary.

his reaction is almost instantaneous, and you think you understand why the team's always telling you not to get so lost in your own mind.

casey's grabbing you by your arm and it hurts, especially as his nails manage to pierce through the skin. he seems to be doing it on purpose, yanking you up to your feet as jj and spencer both surge into action. "wait, wait, please-" jj's leaning forward, eyes wide and full of fear for the first time since this whole ordeal began. spencer's scared too, but he hides it much better you think.

"please, don't hurt her." he begs, and you find it a bit annoying that he's brought them to the point of begging, of using manners to appeal to his ego. casey's eyes jump from spencer to jj, and then to you, and he's sneering. he whirls you around, arm looping around your neck as he presses the barrel of his gun directly to your temple. you sing along to your favorite song in your head, using it as a way to stay grounded, it likely made you look like a mad man.

you supposed that it was your superpower, your ability to look death in the eye, and not flinch. the team often mentioned they weren't sure if you or emily was more stone-faced in a crises situation. "oh, you don't want me to hurt her?" he mocks, and you don't look at spencer, no, you keep your eyes on jj, because she's the one that has to play the game. if you didn't know spencer so well, you never would have noticed the slight movement of his arms, he was up to something.

he was fine.

jj was the one in the hot seat, and she needed you to be calm. freaking out would only make her all the more anxious. so you offer her a stern look, a look that expressed that you all would be okay. she doesn't look convinced. "i want your deepest, darkest secret." he insturcts, "impress me, or i'll kill her." and he slams the gun deep into your temple, the action dizzying as you try and maintain your balance. you feel pain blooming behind your eyes. "and then i'll kill him." he nods his head towards spencer, and jj's on the verge of tears.

you have no choice but to watch her, he's given you a first-class seat to the action. jj's eyes don't land on you though, instead she's looking over to spencer. he looks back at her, face pensive, but otherwise calm. she shudders for just a moment, and it looks like she's trying to work up the courage. "come on!" casey suddenly screams directly in your ear, and you flinch violently. it garners both jj and spencer's attention. casey tightens his hold on you, gun at the ready. "do you think this is a joke? do you think i won't blow this bitch's brains out?"

you're not too fond of being called a bitch, and the drama of it all, takes you out of the moment a bit. why were all unsubs so cliche?

jj takes in another shuddered breath, this one bordering on a sob as she takes in a puff of air. it takes her a moment to get her bearings, but then she's looking at spencer again. she offers him a weak smile, and you get a tingle up your spine, it feels like a warning for disaster. "spence..." she says his name weakly, voice harsh as she croaks. he's looking away from you finally, meeting the gaze of his best friend. "uh..." she inhales sharply. "um..." she looks at you then, and you're eyes are wide, confusion swirling there and she's exhaling.

there's a heaviness, a guilt that stares back at you, and you find yourself scared for the first time, but not of casey. no, you're scared of your friend. "i'm sorry." she mouths to you, and you watch as she looks back at your boyfriend, the clear love of your life. you feel dread then, because you know jj, you know her too well, and you know what's coming. why else would she be so worried, why else would she be looking at you with so much shame in her eyes. "i've-" she stops.

spencer's none the wiser, he wouldn't get it until she said it in full. so while you spiraled into despair, he sat patiently, doe-eyes wide and full of whatever innocence he still had left. you wish you could go back to before, you wish you hadn't been assigned to go with jj and spencer, if you were with the team you'd be none the wiser. you wouldn't feel so heartbroken, displaced, uncertain. but you're here now, and all you have to do is wait for the other shoe to drop. jj inhales, and you wish she would get it out. "i've always loved you."

and there it is.

you'd come to recognize the signs and signals of tears, it always started with your eyes burning like you'd been sitting in smoke. your nose stings next, and you bare down harshly on your tongue to keep them from falling. "and i was just too scared to say it before." it's a gut-punch, it would have likely knocked you on your ass had casey not been forcing you to take it all in. "and now things are just really too complicated to say it now." and she's crying, and that's how you know that she means it. that only makes you feel much worse.

jj, for all intents and purposes was a great actress, she could make any story believable, but she'd never been a good 'fake crier'. she could hide every single one of her tells when she spoke, but emotions were harder to manage. you remembered how she'd told you that one day while the two of you were hanging out. you don't know what brought you there, but she'd made it clear, that tears for her were hard to fake. which left you with what? a best friend that was in love with your boyfriend?

"i'm sorry, but you should know." and you'd hoped she'd at least have the decency to look at you. she doesn't. instead, she's still looking at spencer, and you feel like you're intruding. more than that you feel so stupid. spencer's got this look on his face, this shock and awe and confusion that makes you want to vomit, it makes you want to throw yourself to the ground and throw a tantrum. you want to open your mouth and scream, remind them that 'hey, you're here too'... remind them that you were apart of this, that this was a very very bad thing.

hope was not the sort of look he should be wearing, it's not how he should be responding. you don't know what you'd expected, but certainly not for him to look so relieved, not while you were sitting right there in front of him with a gun to your head. he gives her a half smile though, and you crumble. casey's suddenly chuckling, shoulders rocking as they're pulled out of their little moment. "hot damn!" and he's releasing the gun from your temple, holding it like a little prop, as he forced you back to the ground.

you don't resist, your knees slamming into the floor as you conceal your wince, conceal everything.

"now that's what i'm talking about." casey mutters excitedly. "now those are some last words right there..." he nods his head. he then looms over her, gun pointed directly in her face. "but not good enough to save your life-" before he can hope to pull the trigger, spencer has shot him. the shot echoes all around you, but it doesn't seem to pull you from your muffled mind. casey falls to the floor, jj jumping as he lands down next to her. she shudders violently.

then she's looking back at him, at spence. your spence.

you don't like how it makes you feel, that they've conjured this small habit of getting lost in one another. you clear your throat, and they're finally, finally looking at you. jj looks mortified, but you can't read spencer at all. he doesn't look at jj again, doesn't say a word, instead he's looking at you. you should feel something other than rejection, but you don't. not even when his eyes seem to brim with all those feelings that you know he has for you, because now it feels fake.

he's quick in the way he rushes towards you, kneeling as he inspects you like porcelain. his dominant hand moves to gently brush over where you'd been hit with the gun. you don't want him to touch you though, so you pull back, it's more like a hard jerk, like you were frightened of his touch. you try to play it off, pretend it never happened, but you know that he knows. it felt like the beginning of the end, like the prerequisite to something god-awful.

he looks so upset, hurt by the action, but you think out of the two of you, you're the one who's really hurt. "can you just get me out of these, please?" you don't sound like yourself either, instead you sound hollow, like a grieving woman. you probably are, grieving that is. spencer gives you a worn down nod, but maneuvers until he's behind you. he gently tugs at the tape, but it still hurts as it strips at your skin. you bare your teeth, but don't say anything, head hanging low, until he was done. he offers you his hand, you ignore it.

"y/n." jj calls, and she sounds so distraught. you ignore her too, you don't know what other choices you have. the room's not big enough to hide in, so instead you find yourself rushing over to melissa. you think it's silly, to leave the two of them alone while so much hung in the air, but it was better that way. "melissa." you say her name quietly, kneeling in front of her, despite how shabby they felt. "i need you to hang on, okay?" you exhale shakily.

"help will be here before you know it." you promise, and you're pressing on her wound, blood smearing your hands and your fingertips as she winced painfully. you don't hear anything from jj and spencer, but it doesn't make it better. clearly a glance was all it took for the two of them now. you hate the way this has thrown you, you don't exactly know why you're so fearful. jj was married, she had two sons she adored, and a marriage she was happy in. so why did it feel like the confession was the start of something bad.

were you so insecure that you felt like you didn't stand a chance?

you don't want to think about that, it might actually be enough to make you upchuck. instead, your masochistic mind has you chancing a glance back to where it all went down. you see that spencer has taken the tape off her hands. she's looking up at him, and he's staring down at her. you think that you hate them then. the door bursts open a second later, and you're glad. soon enough a medic would come to see to the wounded, and you could get the hell out of dodge.

"we're going to need an EMT, we've got three down." you exclaim. the room immediately jumps into action. you hear the incessant thrum of conversation as everyone jumped into action, and you're more than grateful when you feel someone looming. your mistake was believing it would be a medic, your face falls flat when you're met with the sight of jj. she had always had a bad habit of trying to force the hard conversations. today though, you were determined to stand your petty ground. you avert your gaze, attention back on melissa.

"y/n, please don't do this." she says this quietly, and you hear the genuine anguish in her voice. it doesn't sway you, it can't possibly.

"it's already done." you quip, and you're grateful to have slowed the bleeding of melissa's wound, as a medic takes your place, finally. you stand to your feet, bloodstained hands itching to smear against your jeans, but you refrain. you ignore rossi and tara's questions, not really in the mood to answer different variations of the 'are you alright?' game. you needed air. silly you to think it'd be over just because you'd willed it to be. just as you're stepping outside, you feel a warm hand encompassing your wrist. you don't want to stop, but it's habitual.

"let me go, spencer." you try quietly. you don't want to be that girl, the one that lashes out, and causes a scene. diplomacy was the name of the game. your eyes are glued to the ground, you didn't want to picture him with that stupid hopeful look on his face anymore. you knew that night when you closed your eyes you'd see it over and over. it would taunt you, play on an endless loop while you tore yourself to shreds. what was it about her? why was this happening to you?

"i can't." he replies, and you wish he'd spoken to you earlier. you wish that he had communicated with his mouth, rather than with his eyes. maybe you wouldn't be so far gone. it didn't have to be a big deal, because at least you would have known that it didn't matter. that her confession hadn't changed anything, but he'd stayed silent, and he'd looked at her in a way he'd never looked at you before. you knew there was history, you'd heard whispers from derek and penelope about a football game from years and years ago.

you had never expected for it to matter now.

"you can, you're just choosing to hold me hostage." you mumble, and despite your anger, you can't lash out. you can't be irrational.

"i'm not going to let you leave angry with me." and you hate how he knows you so well. you think it's something you'll miss. "i want us to talk about it, i think that we need to." he says in that voice he often used when he was trying to gently guide you towards the right choice. you don't want to be policed or treated like you were the one that had messed things up. all he'd needed to do was shut it down, all you'd wanted him to do was not look so happy, like it was something he'd spent his entire life waiting for.

"what's there to talk about, spencer? it's happened, okay? let's just move on, before this turns into something it doesn't need to." you shoot back, and he's not convinced, nor is he willing to budge.

"you're treating me like some stranger, as if i don't know you well enough to see when you're lying to me." he's gaining that disappointed lilt to his voice, and you think long gone are all your chances of getting out of this place without it turning into a full blown soap opera meltdown. "we're not going to get anywhere if you can't be truthful with me." he adds, and you don't want a lecture, because you'd done nothing wrong. you were the one casey had held, you were the one that had a gun pressed to your temple.

you weren't the one that made the life changing confession.

"i'm asking you to drop this." you say sharply, and you're hoping to snatch your arm away from spencer. he doesn't let you, and on any other occasion you'd feel so protected, so wanted. now though, you feel claustrophobic, trapped, you didn't feel safe. "i understand that you're trying to preserve our relationship, and i wish i could tell you that this doesn't change anything..." his face morphs, eyes screaming at you not to proceed. "but i just need a second to wrap my head around all this, okay? can you give me that? space?"

to him space always felt like the beginning of the end. he thinks that's why he's determined not to let you go. "will you come back? if i let you go?" and he's already dropped you wrist, so you know that he's not really talking about right now. he sounds uncertain, scared, and it does remind you that there was love he felt towards you. the fear wraps around you, and you're not sure how it really makes you feel. you exhale shakily, and you don't want to give him the wrong answer.

"agent l/n." you're both being pulled back to reality, back to what was going on around you. you note the bleeding gash in his hand, likely from the shard he'd used to free himself from the tape and you sigh.

"i don't know, spence." and it's true. "i'm just a little bit confused right now." you admit. "and my feelings are hurt," you shake your head rapidly. spencer doesn't know how to express the way his mind is running. all he knew was that jj's confession would not be enough to make him want to throw away his time with you. he wanted you to know that you weren't a consolation prize, but he didn't know how to say it now without seeming ingenuine. he knew how it looked, he knew how he'd feel if he was in your shoes.

but, he wasn't in love with jj. he remembered a version of himself that tripped over himself at her gaze, the version that stayed up late at night replaying conversations in his head. a part of that guy would always exist, he couldn't lie and say it didn't. he loved her so wholeheartedly that sometimes it still managed to scare him, but she was an illusion, a fantasy. realistically he doubted they'd make sense in a romantic sort of sense, it was only something to think about... not something to uproot lives behind.

more than that though, he'd never felt for jj the way he felt for you. he remembered the first time you'd waltzed into the bullpen. you'd knocked him right on his ass, took every thought in his head, and made it your very own. you consumed his time, and he was willing to let you. he wanted you to be the only thing that could quiet his running mind, he wanted you to be the only person that could help him sleep. he didn't want to give this anymore attention than it needed, because he was set in his heart. it wasn't a question.

he didn't know why he couldn't just say that. why everything felt so lopsided and off focus now. his lips curve down into a deep pout.

"my head hurts." you mumble, your bottom lip trembling as spencer's frown deepens. he wants to hug you, but after your initial rejection he doesn't know if he can take another one. you feel a bit drowsy, likely a side-effect of the way casey had manhandled you.

"i know, you'll need to get checked out." he says quietly. "you might have a concussion, he really did a number on you." and despite his initial protests, and your earlier reaction, he's reaching for you again. you don't know if you're insecure, or if your profiling skills are allowing to see him for who he is, but the look in his eyes pushes you to relax. his fingers are gentle in the way they cradle your face, and instinctively you're leaning into his palm, cheek pressing against his hand. "i'm sorry." and you don't know which part he's apologizing for.

"can you come with me?" a quiet and still hopeful question. "we could sit together in the ambulance, pretend everything's alright just for a second?" you offer, and you think that's an answer to his question in itself. you didn't know how long it would take to get checked out, you didn't know how long it would take for them to bandage his hand and assess him for other scrapes and bruises, but you could take advantage of it, just the two of you. you could sit in silence, and dance around in that space between love and betrayal.

it was possible.

"y-yeah." he didn't stutter much anymore, so it stands out and makes you want to frown. "we can do that." his expression is torn, and you want to know what's on his mind, what he was thinking. you needed to know, you wanted some sort of sign, anything, that would show you he hadn't given up on you all because jj was in love with him. you hoped you weren't that disposable. "i want to." he adds, and he blinks harshly, almost like he's warding off tears, and it feels so awkward. the usual banter, the back and forth, the flirty remarks that always managed to leave you both shy were all gone.

in a matter of moments.

"good." and at the very least, he's here with you right now. "give me your hand." and you're careful not to grab the one he'd split with the glass, instead stepping around him to pull his clean palm into your slightly stained one. your fingers interlock, and it's a habit, a natural one at this point. "don't think too hard about it." you instruct, and he scoffs at you. he's upset, he's disappointed, hurting, angry, confused, you can see it. all his emotions seem to pile up on one another.

"how can i not?" he asks, and he sounds so tired. "it feels like you're seconds away from telling me that you're done with me." you're a not surprised at the pivot in his demeanor.

"isn't that what you want now?" you've started to walk, and spencer's letting you lead him, not quite ready to let your hand go once you reached the medic that was currently trying their hand at getting your attention. "i mean the girl you've always loved just put herself on a silver platter." you adds with a quiet sneer a second later. "what do you need me for?" you question, and he hates the feeling of his heart mimicking the sensation of pulling and squeezing. it hurts.

"y/n..." he tries, and you shake your head. "you have to know that nothing has changed." he promises, and you scoff. it stops you in your tracks.

"everything's changed!" you hiss. "she's in love with you. jj, our friend. she's been harboring feelings for you for years, but nothing's changed?" you huff, a tear seems to find joy in slipping from your eye in that moment. it's just one, but you know it's a opener to the main event. it's probably because despite everything, he makes you feel safest. part of that safety came an inability to shield your emotions and reactions from him. you'll have to try your darndest to do so now.

you don't really know if you can conceal them, but you don't want them to turn into full blown sobs. a few stray tears were easy to ignore, but the second it became a meltdown you knew you were finished. this wasn't your secret to share, and despite how angry you were with jj, you knew that it wasn't her fault. things were complicated, and you couldn't fully blame her for how she felt. you just wondered if she was biding her time, if she thought she was better suited for spencer than you. did she actually like you?

did she actually believe all that she'd told you regarding your relationship with spencer?

'i've never seen him smile so big' ... 'you guys are actually perfect for each other' ... 'tell us y/n, are you gonna be the one to give spence a few baby geniuses? the boys need some cousins'. your heart aches at the thought of it all being nothing but lip service. but you'd never expose her to the team, you'd never hurt will and the boys like that. which meant you'd have to shape up before the team was back.

"i mean for myself. nothing's changed for me and the way that i feel for you." he presses. "i wouldn't just toss our time together away like that." spencer looks stern as he scolds you. "was there a time that i thought about what it would be like? to be with jj... to-to have her love me back? yes... i won't lie about it." he says, and your face crumples up, and you want to run away. you don't know what he's getting at, but his words don't help as much as he might've hoped.

it causes you to yank your hand away, head shaking back and forth as you step back. "i said that i didn't want to talk about it." and you feel hypocritical because you'd thrown a few rocks to get you to this point in the conversation. "so stop it, okay? we're going to let it go, and we're going to talk about something else." you try your hand at deflecting. spencer's got an exceptional amount of patience, you see it wearing thin on his face, but you're not willing to budge.

"no, we need to talk about this." spencer argues. "i'm not going to pretend with you, and we've been together long enough for you to realize that you don't have to pretend with me, either." he adds. "if we don't now... i'm scared that we never will, and you're- you're angry with me, and i need you to tell me why." he pleads. "if we can't deal with things like this, we'll never make it past the hard stuff." he exhales, "i really want to make it past the hard stuff with you."

"i don't want to talk about it." you feel yourself getting a bit more irrational, angrier. your head feels like it's hurting even more, throbbing as it passed behind your eyes.

"why are you acting like this?" he's growing a bit frantic, he's got abandonment issues, and it feels like you might leave. he's lost a lot of people in his life, he's never been the best with change, he's never been the best with moving on, getting past the hard stuff. he doesn't want to push you too far, but he feels like he's got to hold on tight or risk losing you forever. "why can't you just tell me what you're thinking? if you're gonna vent, why not with me? let me help-"

"i don't want you to do anything for me!" you snap, and you're getting looks from the officers outside. you see rossi and his eyes are directly trained on the both of you. the rest of the team is scattered about, but much like rossi they're looking your way. it's officially become a scene. you run your hands across your face, dried blood caking over your skin, as you press your hands together, taking in a shaky breath. "i told you that i didn't want to talk about it." you remind him harshly.

"y/n-" you don't give him the chance to say much else, because you're immediately cutting him off.

"no!" you're ensuring your volume stays at appropriate levels, especially now that you seemed to have garnered a small audience. tara's still looking, and you know that every so often jj's taking it all in too. you at least owe it to the both of you to not go too far. "i want you to respect that maybe this isn't something you can fix with your extensive knowledge." you proceed. "you're smart as a whip, but boy do you still have a lot to learn about emotions." and you think you might have gone too far. you've definitely gone too far.

your head is really hurting though, and your vision's getting spotty. you don't have it in you to be politically correct, but you see the way his face morphs, how he looks so hurt. he towered over you, but he never looked more like a little boy than he did in that moment. "and my feelings... whatever they may be aren't just something that you can push out of me to make yourself feel better. this isn't just going to go away and be fixed by bed time, doctor reid."

he blinks.

"i wasn't-" he exhales, heartbeat wanting to rise in his chest. "that's not-" he's not prone to panic attacks, but he knew a lot about them. he knew how they could come out of no where, and be crippling. he was panicking, freaking out, mostly because he was being misunderstood. he never wanted you to misunderstand him, especially as it pertained to his intentions and his feelings towards you. "i wasn't trying to manage your feelings... i-" he's trying to breathe. "i just want us to be okay, i don't want to lose you."

you want to reply, really you do. you don't think you can though, because your brain feels like it's about to erupt. your knees lock, and you almost jerk. spencer's eyes widen and he's surging forward to catch you the second you start to fall. it brings him to his knees, split hand be damned. "y/n." and his suspicions about your concussion were confirmed, it makes guilt lash at him instantly. if he'd just bit his tongue, you wouldn't have passed out. he'd let you get too overwhelmed, you'd told him your head was bothering you.

he's so busy beating himself up, and trying to ensure that you were breathing, he doesn't even realize that matt's trying to garner his attention. "hey, what happened?" and he snaps out of it when tara's gently shoving at his arm. he feels like everything's going in slow motion now, he's just concerned about you. that's nothing new.

"i think she has a concussion..." he mutters. "casey-" he tightens his hold on you. "casey hit her in the head." he explains, and he wonders why he hadn't been more diligent earlier. the EMTs are joining next, and he should feel more relieved that you'll be getting the care you need. he knows most times unconsciousness wanes about fifteen minutes from the time that the victim passes out, but it doesn't calm him down. guilt was one hell of a problem.

"she's gonna be alright." tara is telling him, as they're rising to their feet, eyes following the stretcher you were laid out on. "she's a real fighter." and he already knows that, he thinks you're the strongest person in the world, but he should've never pushed you.

"spence!" jj's calling him, and she's approaching before he can reply. "what happened?" she sounds about as worried as he feels. guilt clearly was a dinner for two. "is she okay? w-what's wrong with y/n?" she fires off, and spencer thinks he should be the one talking to the EMTs and not tara and matt, but he can't seem to move. or respond, based on the way jj's face contorts. "spence!" she calls him again.

that snaps him out of his reverie.

"she's got a concussion, it's all my fault." he says what he's thinking. "i shouldn't have tried to force her to talk-" and he hates that right now is the moment he decides to word vomit. "i just-" he looks up at jj, who's got a mixture of emotions swirling in her eyes. "i should have let her go get checked out." he explains.

"this isn't your fault. spence, you're not the one that gave her a concussion. you're not the one that hurt her, casey was." she insists.

"casey's not the one that blew everything up." his retort is quick, and in hindsight, he doesn't blame jj for anything. he knows things are complicated, tricky, weird. but he doesn't want her to be the one to comfort him, and tell him everything was going to be fine. not right now.

"what? are you blaming me now?" jj asks, and she sounds heartbroken. spencer thinks he's getting used to the feeling of his foot being in his mouth. there's a moment of tense silence, a stare off that occurs where neither of them knows what to say. they don't know how to proceed, and he doesn't know why he keeps getting caught in this limbo of not knowing what to say. "i didn't mean to make things difficult." she finally says. "i never-"

they're pulled from this moment by tara. "spencer." and his head turns. "are you going to ride along to the hospital?" and it should've been the natural decision, except he's not feeling particularly ready. he takes a small step back, and it's one everyone seems to notice. the only people that were privy to what went down in that room were you, jj, and himself, and yet it felt like in that moment the entire team was given a front row seat to the obvious aftermath.

something had shifted, changed.

"y-" he shakes his head. "you go ahead." he offers, and tara's eyebrows raise. her shock makes him feel worse, but she doesn't question it. she climbs into the ambulance, and soon enough they're peeling out. his hand still hurts, the gash gnawing at him, but it's a welcomed pain. he'll have to bandage it soon though.

"spence." jj's wearing this look, a mixture of emotions he doesn't want to deal with. "it wasn't your fault." she insists. it doesn't make him feel any better, instead he's forced to come to terms with the decision he'd just made. you'd been taken to the hospital, and he'd stayed behind. he'd stayed behind and been reassured by jj.

you were never going to forgive him.

[jellyfishrnice]

Just imagine being Sevikas unofficial girlfriend/lover/situationship/ nothing serioussss 😍😍😍

(Omg sevika stop looking at me like that 😩😩😩 )

Sure, you two weren't techinacly official (sevika saying you two were "just friends"), but you never really strayed from her tight hold on you, but tonight was different.

After a rather difficult argument with Sevika over her going to a brothel house for the 2nd time this month, you decided to blow off some steam at a trashy club somewhere deep in the undercity.

You were tipsy off of the many drinks you had and the music playing had you swaying to the beat in the sea of people, you hadn't even noticed but Sevika (being toxic as ever) followed you and was watching you from across the floor, sipping on some hard liquor and trying not to rip the eyes out the skull of the random person grinding on your ass.

But of course, you just had to provoke her as much as possible. The sight of you reciprocating this assholes advances by turning around to face her, grabbing her by the neck and then kissing her-

Sevika was out of her seat before she even registered what was happening. And the next thing she remembers is her fists being bloody and your screams trying to beg her to get off the other woman.

You succeed somehow and drag her off the poor girl and gripping her by the wrist out the back door before you both God in trouble, but it probably wouldn't matter anyway since Sevika gets away with everything.

Including fucking you over! (In both ways)

"God, can't you just leave me alone?!" You shouted while trying to shove Sevika but she only smirked and looked at the ground with her hands on her hips.

"Y'know if you wanted to be treated like someone random slut you could have just told me-"

"You already treat me like one anyway, so what does it matter!?" You screamed at her, the clubs music still blasting inside, you so wish you were back in there with that gorgeous woman. Too bad Sevika always has to ruin your fun.

"Like hell I do, I treat you better than anyone else could in this damn city," Sevika scoffed at your comment, don't you know how good you have it with her?

"Oh my- so you're aloud to fuck anyone in the city, but the second I start to even- dance with someone you get to storm over and-" your rant was interrupted by Sevikas lips on yours.

You only tried to push back for a second but the oh so familiar scent of her filled your nose and her dark lips tasted of whiskey and smoke. Her hands found your wrists and pinned them on both sides of your head, pushing you onto the brick wall of the club alleyway.

You heard a small groan from her before her pulling back suddenly, still close enough for you see her pretty gray eyes glazed over with lust and her soft pretty lips slightly ajar.

"missed you sweetheart," she mumbled.

You let out a shaky sigh and leaned forward again, shoving your tongue into her mouth.

She let your wrists go for a moment only to grab your by the thighs to pick you up, your legs wrapping around her muscular waist on instinct. Your hands found their way into her dark hair, gripping it tightly and invoking a beautiful groan from her.

It felt so nice and familiar to have her so close again, comforting and reliable.

And the next morning you woke up in her bed, naked, and in the same place you always find yourself; in Sevikas bed with her arms wrapped around your waist and her soft chest pressed against your back; a stark contracts to her rough hands and scared forearms. You sighed and tried to move away from her, trying to get up to leave, but she only mumbled something you couldn't hear and pulled you back into her arms. You sighed and let her hug you, dreading when she would let you go.

Sometimes, it really felt like she owned you, heart and body.

-

Not proofread but she's so toxic omggg 😫

[charlessainzz]

can do like reader with charles getting quite a few feature on dts here and there moments. thank you! i don't really like dts but I love the ferrari bits!!

My first request! Thank you for requesting this, it was fun to write! I hope it’s good! 

Drive to Survive’s Newest Star is… Not a Driver?? 

Take One: 

Cameras were everywhere. It was another Drive to Survive filming day. These days always made you nervous. More cameras than usual, more eyes than usual, and more opinions than usual. Luckily you were feeling good. You were decked out in head to toe Ferrari merch. White lace cami, vintage red leather Marlboro pants, red peep toe Manolos, with a number 16 cap. You looked the part of a die hard Ferrari fan. More importantly you looked the part of a die hard Charles Leclerc fan. And you were. His wonderful, supportive girlfriend of 2 years. His biggest fan. 

You felt the camera pan to you as Charles made his way through the garage you. He had just finished FP1 and well lets just say it wasn’t looking great… He needed you now and Charles could care less if the DTS cameras were watching. Your eyes light up as you see him getting closer to you. He grabs your waist and nudges your nose with his. 

“Hi,” you squeak, anticipating a kiss. 

“Hey..”, he whispers. “That was pretty bad wasn’t it”.

“Mmhmmm car looks pretty rubbish”, you giggle. “But that driver…. He’s pretty great. Makes a worthless car worth driving”, you say as you give him a peck. 

You both embrace in a tight hug and another kiss. Feeling the cameras rolling and hearing the photographers clicking away, you both start laughing. Oh this will be Netflix gold. 

Take Two:

Rain in October and in Austin, Texas. What are the odds! A usual dry race with an unrelenting sun had turned into a gray, storm filled race. The track was almost flooded. The radios of drivers shooting off justifiably angry that the race hadn’t been red flagged yet. The DTS cameras were here of course. Another perfect scene for them, they’d definitely be getting the footage they wanted.

Your hands enclosed in a prayer, begging for the officials to do something. To call for a pause, to cancel! There was no way the race could continue like this. Visibility is almost next to zero. You intensely listen to the radio, checking for Charles’s voice. He’s mad, he can’t see, and he’s ready to get out of the car. 

You’re watching the screen as the cars begin to slow around a turn, you see Charles and Pierre bump sending Charles off the track. It was all in slow motion. His car and your reaction moving at the speed of molasses. While the bump seemed minor, there were more cars headed his way. That’s what scared you. Just as that thought enters your mind, Checo’s car shoots down the track and narrowly misses Charles sending water crashing into him. You let out a shriek and cover your face crouching to the ground. The cameras all turn to you, documenting your reaction. You peek through your fingers seeing everyone staring and the lens facing you. At first you feel embarrassed but then you remember, that’s your man! You stand back up, straightening your posture, and brushing your hair off your shoulder. Arthur envelops you in a hug and points to the screen. 

Charles is being rescued by the emergency crew and he’s making his way back to you. He’s coming back to the safety of the garage and the safety of your arms. The DTS cameras know what’s coming next, and they stay on you waiting for the paddock’s favorite couple to reunite. 

Take Three:

Silverstone was always packed. But this year felt different. The crowd looked like sardines packed into a tin can. No room to move or even breathe. 

Charles held open the car door for you and grabbed your hand. He knew you didn’t love these crowds. He held your hand tight as you walked into the paddock. Cameras flashing, fans screaming, and DTS film crews lurking. You and Charles had one mission. Get to the Ferrari building as fast as possible.

Hands stuck like glue, you’re both practically running through the paddock. Of course, Charles being the man he is, has to stop and take pictures. But this leads to more attention and bigger crowds. You don’t mind, you know they love him. He deserves the love. Yet, the crowd becomes more…. pushy, more desperate for a glimpse at the Ferrari man. 

As he takes the millionth picture, you feel someone clench your arm and rip you from Charles. Letting out a scream, you fall into the ocean of the crowd. A man, desperate to get a picture, had done the unthinkable. He put his hands on you. Charles felt you instantly leave his presence. He snaps around grabbing your hand once more, and focuses his attention at the man. 

“Don’t you dare touch her!”, Charles growls with a finger in the man's face. That’s when you notice a boom mic over you capturing every second of this interaction. You let out a groan knowing that this will probably be in an episode. But hey! Your man was protecting you! 

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you both rush through the crowd heading towards the Ferrari hospitality. To the safety of your second home. Fans still hot on your tails screaming, “Leclerc! Y/n! Wait!”. Unknown to you both, DTS cameras are right behind you. Capturing the knight in shining armor protecting his princess. After what felt like a marathon, you see the Ferrari crew waiting at the entrance to welcome you in. Like deer leaping through a field, you both jump through the front doors. Doors closing, the cameras catch you both hunched over trying to catch your breath still clinging to each other. Like a wildlife documentary they sit at the door documenting two creatures that had just escaped a near death experience. 

After taking that moment to pause, you turn and see cameras pressed against the door recording you and Charles. You can’t help but let out a big belly laugh tapping him on the shoulder to look. Charles sees, grabs your hand, and flips off the camera pulling you towards his room. 

This episode will definitely be talked about! 

Take Four:

He takes the checkered flag! Charles Leclerc wins the Las Vegas Grand Prix!

The whole garage erupts into celebration. Charles wins! Carlos in 2nd. It’s a 1-2 result for the Ferrari team. What more could Fred have asked for. The whole garage runs towards the podium, awaiting their boys. You take off running towards the barrier followed by a film crew of course. Unsurprising to anyone, the Drive to Survive team is here to capture the lavish race that is Vegas. 

The podium waiting area is front to back red. You want to see him, you need to see him. But how can you get to the front? Not wanting to be rude, you tap shoulders and whisper ‘excuse mes’. As people turn ready to shout at the person cutting through, they recognize you. With sheepish smiles they usher you through to the front. Cameras following, but you could care less. 

Finally, you're at the front waiting for the drivers to exit the cars. Barriers crushing your ribs, you can feel your heart ready to leap out of your chest in anticipation. Then there he is! He leaps out of the car and throws his hands up. He points to the sky, and then points to the team. Jumping down he sprints to the Ferrari team ready to welcome back their champion. He leaps into the arms of the first team members he sees. Everyone reaching to touch him, to congratulate him, to get a glimpse of their driver. He scans the front row looking for you. He knew you’d be there but where are you? As he takes off his helmet he sees you. Tears have stained your cheeks and hair a mess from running. 

Charles jumps to you and grabs your face. Hands over your jaw, he brings your lips together. The kiss says everything and more. Cameras push in closer and closer as you continue kissing your driver. You break apart and laugh knowing what they’re capturing. Charles looks you in the eyes and says, “Another kiss for the winner?”. 

“Always”, you beam and bring him back into you. Charles takes a hand and pushes the lens away from you both. Trying to get some privacy in the most public situation ever. The film crew lets up knowing they just got their shot. They just got the money shot of their number one F1 driver and Drive to Survive’s newest star… who’s not a driver. Who would’ve thought!

[shapard]

Feather of Fate 🕊️

Lucifer x fem!seraphim!reader

Soulmate arc

Lilith being weird

Saturn

Chapter 6 < Chapter 7 > Chapter 8

You’ve never felt this out of place before. 

Even in heaven it wasn't this awkward.

You were sitting beside Lucifer who hasn’t talked since you’ve arrived here in the main lobby. 

Lilith was sitting in front of you all like she hasn’t been missing for 7 years.

Walking around as if she owns this place. And it angered you.

Charlie was happy to see her mom again after such a long time, but also was hella confused. 

Why is she here all of the sudden right before the extermination day? Charlie wasn't the only one who thought of this.

You too are confused at this ordinary timing.

Angel dust was concerned about you. 

You and Lucifer were now official but the appearance of Lucifers ex-wife was very overwhelming for you, and Angel could see it. 

And one guy was not even presence, and that was Alastor. 

Weird. 

Normally he’s always there when someone new arrived in here. 

“Who are you?” Nifty broke the silence, and all eyes were now on her. 

Lilith choose to Ignore Nifty, and she pouted. “So, you’re… His new girl?” Lilith asked looking you up and down. With her gaze lingering now on her you felt insecure somehow.

You hugged yourself to look smaller.

You nodded your head 'yes', even though you didn’t like the tone Lilith gave you. 

“She’s his girlfriend and she has a name big tits.” Angel said raising his eyebrows.

He didn’t trust her.

Not at all.

Lilith smirked and leaned back in her seat.

“I don't care. Really her Lu?” Lilith looked over at Lucifer and he looked shortly back.

his gaze went quickly to the ground.

It was obvious that Lilith still had Lucifer in her fingers, and it pissed you off. 

“Excuse me?” You decided to interrupt her cruel speaking.

She looked at you in surprise, and you huff in annoyance.

“You really think you can just come over here and talk here as if this place belongs to you.

Sorry for breaking the news to you, but you’re no longer the owner of this house, nor do you have the right to come here to Insult your ex.

You left him and I’m here. No refunds.” You Shaked your head, Angel dust smirked at you come back. 

He’s so proud of you.

Lucifer smiled, every day he gets more reasons to love you. 

“What are you even doing here?” Lucifer finally looked at Lilith and he felt nothing. 

No Love, no sadness. 

Lilith bit her lip hard, drawing blood. “Can’t I visit my little daughter.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrow, “You never visit nor called her in over 7 years. What changed!” No one gets after his daughter, not even her Mother.

Not even Lilith.

Lilith patient was running thin, she scratched with her nail into the wood piece from the couch breaking her nails in the process. 

She took a breath in and out. “I had a lot of important things to do.” 

Now y’all were raising a brow at this statement, besides Charlie.

She had faith for the first time that her mother wants to see her again. 

But you all had a valid point, why now? 

“It seems no one wants me here. I’ll leave, but I will come back.”

She looked now at Lucifer smiling at his angered face. ‘you’ll see’ She mouthed at him, he pointed towards the door.

And she left.

“That was way too easy.” Husk said that what all thought. She left you all dumbfounded. 

It was way too easy.

Angel shifted towards you and Lucifer. “So, you two a thing now?” You nod your head and smile brightly. 

He wanted to change the topic so you don't overthink all of this, and it worked successfully.

Charlie bounced up and down dismissing the weird visit from her mother. She's so excited for the two of you.

Charlie is a cutie pie, and you love everything about her. She is just like her father, the pros so the cons. Both just want to do their best for their beloved.

Even though they sometimes fuck up, it is always meant in a good way.

“You said It yourself seconds ago. Why are you even asking?” Lucifer asked and rested his chin on your shoulder.

He loves that he's shorter than you. Every time you two hugged he was always between your boobs. Even though he wears a hat to look taller.

Angel just shrugged and continued to drink his Malibu with his well known smile.

… Time Skip...

Lucifer paced around your room, and you watched his every move. 

You stood up and hugged his waist looking down into his eyes. Sometimes he was looking at you, but they travelled through the whole room most of the time.

“Luci, calm down. Nothing happened we are fine.” His strand fell in front of his eyes, and you put it back to its place, Lucifer clicked his tongue.

“That’s what’s worrying me. Why didn’t she do anything? I know Lilith since the start of earth, she wouldn’t just leave in those situations without a reason.” 

Lucifer leaned into you embrace letting out a distressed sigh. 

"Don't worry about it. You're one of the strongest beings, she wouldn't dare to put out a fight like Michael did." Lucifers sighs, you're probably right.

_____

“You just left?!” Michael laughed biting at his fresh manicured nail. 

His women staff around him tensed up, wanting nothing more than to leave.

Michael sent them away. They ran as fast as they could out of the room.

“And you didn’t even spy on them? Tried anything to get useful Information?! I really wonder why you divorced him and not the other way around.” He breathed in and threw a glass cup next to Lilith. 

“But you just LEFT?!” 

He shook his head, his eyes shining in pure blue. 

“They’re soulmates.” She whispered. Not looking at him with his icy cold eyes.

She hated that look in his eyes he was giving her.

He looked at her like she is a piece of garbage, something he should've got disposed of.

Something that now molds in one of his cabinets.

the only reason why she is still alive was her use for him.

And something else they both tried to hide and undo.

Michael’s mark burned in protest but it won’t stop him to punish Lilith.

“NO SHIT!” he leaned his hand in his palm trying to calm down. massaging his forehead hardy leaving a red fingerprint.

“Your plan failed Michael. It worked for a couple of Months but not longer. It seemed their bond grew stronger.” A loud bang echoed the icy cold halls in Michael’s mansion. 

The temperature was starting to get colder and colder. 

Ice started to grow around Lilith holding her tight in place. “I should’ve killed you a long time ago.”

He stood in front of Lilith cutting her cheek open with the same knife your blood was spilled. 

“I- I- have an idea!” Michael removed the knife from her cheek with ease.

Lilith feared him you thought? 

Feared was the wrong word.

She’s haunted by him. 

Every time she thinks she’s in peace, he reminds her that he has her in her personal hell.

The sharing Soulmate mark was burning on her skin bonding then for eternity.

“Tell me.” Michael licked Lilith’s blood away from her cheek and she shrieked trying to get away from him. But his ice didn’t let her move. 

“We can use her,”

Michael grabbed her chin turning Lilith head to him, “I already tried that Bitch.”

Lilith looked at Michael and shrugged her eyes at him, “But my idea is better.” 

Michael eyes twitched in annoyance, how dare she?

“On extermination day, we can take her away from him.”

______

You knocked onto Charlie’s door hesitant.

You were worried about her.

You know how it is with mommy Issues and when they try to gain something out of you. Out of your weakness and dreams. 

No one can destroy you like a mother can. No one can build you up like a loving mother. And no one can cause destruction like a mother.

You speak out of experience with your mother Sera.

Even though you’ve almost spoken no words with Lilith, she seems kind of like an asshole.

It was all Lilith's fault which caused Charlie and Lucifer being so distant to each other.

Saying always Lucifer was too busy to see his own daughter, which isn’t even true. 

And telling Lucifer that Charlie doesn't want to see her own father.

You didn’t like Lilith at all.

Charlie opened the door and was shocked to see you there. 

“Y/n?” You briefly smiled to her, “Can I get in?” She tilted her head and gave you a concerned look. “Did something happen with dad?” 

You shook your head laughing a bit, “I just want to know if everything’s alright with you? Just a quick check.” Charlie nods her head, not looking you in the eye. 

“I can see when someone’s lying my dear.” Charlie looks up to you, “pfft- No. I am completely fine! really!” She laughed you off, pushing you out of her and Vaggies room. 

“If you say so.” You said, not really believing her. Charlie puts her thumbs up and closed the door right in front of you. 

So that’s how Lucifer felt.

Not a nice feeling.

You can understand Charlie, you’re new. New to this Family, new to her. 

So, you understand when she doesn’t want to share her feelings with you. but it was worth a shot. 

You didn't spend much time with Charlie nor her friends.

You talked sometimes with Angel or with Husk. They seemed nice.

You had once a conversation with Alastor and Lucifer wasn’t really a fan of it. 

Lucifer creeped behind you and gave Alastor a rude comment.

He growled at Alastor and pushed you away from him. 

Since then, you always keep yourself distant from Alastor. 

You walked towards the bar seeing Angel and Husk drinking some cocktails and shots.

You sat beside Angel, telling husk to make you a good drink. 

“Never seen you drink alcohol before. Tough day?” Husk asked grabbing some bottles from the shelves. “Nah, just want to try something new.” 

Angel looked you up and down smiling. “You look different.” His fingers drew circles on the bar table, biting his lips in a sexual matter. 

“Did you and the short king finally get into some action?” He pushed his chest fur up and fluffed it a bit. 

And here we go.

Of course, Angel will notice.

Your cheeks redden, feeling the sudden embarrassed. 

“What? No- where did you get that idea from?!” You started playing with the glass that husk laid in front of you moments ago. 

Angel frowned, “I do sex for a living toots. But except that, everyone can see it even if you’re blind like a fish.” Angel rests his head on one of his many hands and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“You’re not a good liar kiddo.” Husk said and Angel snorted, “Ya see! Even Mr. grump cat can see it.”

Angel smirked at Husk and continued to tease him. They both stopped giving each other shots when they heard your joyful laugh. 

“What?” They both asked in sync.

“You two are like an old married couple.” You continued to laugh out loud.

Meanwhile Husk and Angel were a blushing mess blabbering “No’s” and dismissive comments about how they act. 

“Married couple? No, nah. We two? Never, haha!” Angel blabbered and husk agreed by him. And this went on and on for the rest of day.

Angel, Husk, and you got way closer. 

This was a great day so far. 

But there was an unsettling feeling building up in your guts, telling you to run. 

And you couldn’t figure out why. 

Walking back to your room you saw Alastor on your way back. 

‘Please not him’. 

“Look who we have here!” His smile was unsettling, you wanted to leave before he could try anything to you.

You were all alone and he could use this advantage. But he wouldn't right?

“Oh, hey there Alastor. Sorry we can’t chat any longer, I have stuff to do.” You waved him a goodbye and rushed away from him. 

Please let it work.

“What stuff?” 

Alastor teleported himself in front of you scaring the shit out of you.

You screamed and fell right onto your butt.

A stinging pain was growing in that area. 

“Ow! Wtf Alastor!” You looked up at his well-known wide smile and all he did was smirking even wider.

“You know little Angel; you seem to get comfortable in here. I’m glad you like this beautiful hotel! Do you-“

“Darling! Y/n?!” Lucifer called out for you. Interrupting Alastors chat with you, his ears quickly shifted to the well-known voice which was calling for you. 

Lucifer heard your little scream, and he quickly followed the red string feeling that connected the two of you. 

Alastor hummed and disappeared into his own shadows.

Lucifers eyes shifted around the hallway cursing that this place is too large to find you.

Finally he found you lying on your butt unmoving on the floor.

“Are you okay? What happened.” He helped you up to your feet searching for any damage before looking up to you. 

“Yeah, I guess. Just a weird encounter. Don’t worry about it.” Lucifer sighs but didn’t pry any further.

He trusts you that you’ll tell him when something is wrong. 

When you both were lying in your bed, and he was cuddled all up in your lap. 

All you couldn’t help but think about this unease that thrilled behind your head and in your guts.

It was making you sick, as if you got a rare disease.

You played with his angelic golden hair, hoping it will calm that feeling down, to no success.

It didn't help.

You decided to speak up about this, with Lucifer. Maybe this would help.

“Luci?” He hummed, “I have a bad feeling about this.” He sat up, scared that you mean the relationship you two formed.

Fuck I phrased that wrong. You internally screamed at yourself.

“About what?” 

please, please be something else, please. I thought everything is perfect. Lucifer begged in his head.

You looked onto your shelf where the duck he gifted you was resting. A replica from himself just in a duck form.

It glowing in all their might. You loved this duck; it just was so adorable and remind you of Lucifer so much.

“I don’t know, to be honest. Maybe it is the extermination.” You scratched the back of your head.

Lucifer sighs in relief. Thank God it's just that.

“Don’t worry your head about it Apple pie. Nothing will happen to you.”

Oh, how he will regret saying that. 

A/n: What do you think will Lilith and Michael do with Y/n?

Annnd one final Question:

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym @asmodeussimpnumber1 @sirenetheblogger @k1y0yo @i-have-no-life-charlie @angelicwillows

A/n (again):Thank you for all the lovely comments, likes and repost<3 And FOR THE 300 FOLLOWERS DAYUM. We got new pookies❤️

btw I'm sick so if this chapter (or the next) comes later than normal I apologize.

[muzansfangs]

Shinji arguing with wife reader cuz he don't want her going on missions turning into passionate breeding 🙏🙏

Maternity leave.

Starring: Shinji Hirako x f!reader;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding kink, mention to pregnancy, turn back the pendolum arc, power imbalance, dirty talk, established relationship, married couple, altercations, overprotective Shinji, jealousy, kind of toxic Shinji;

Plot: When you decide to request a transfer from the Fifth Division to the Twelfth, your husband feels the ground shake beneath his feet. All of his efforts to keep you away from supposedly dangerous missions had turned out to be useless. Maybe, then, it is time for him to assure your absence from the battlefield for nine months.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“What did ya say?” the Captain of the Fifth Division disinterestedly asked you, cheek propped onto the upturned palm of his hand, his posture indecent for a man of his rank. Trying to keep Shinji Hirako in line, however, was impossible. You had given up on it long ago, leaving the absurd and tiresome task to the brilliant Lieutenant your husband had just appointed.

Anyway, biting your tongue not to reprimand him for his deleterious habit of slacking off early in the morning, you huffed and threw your hands in the air in frustration “I said that’s my last day in the Fifth Division. Do I have to ask Captain Unohana to check your hearing?” you replied pointedly sarcastic in the inclination your voice took.

He blinked. A reaction. This time you had his full attention.

“What the heck? — he scoffed — I don’t think I get it”.

“Well, that’s not my problem. I’ll keep my rank of Fourth seat, but I’ll be working for Captain Urahara starting from tomorrow” you informed him, narrowing your eyes at his scornful attitude. You expected him to hamstring your initiative. After all, he was your husband and your Captain. He refused to let you go.

Despite that, Captain Hirako had it coming. After decades of denying you the consent to go on ‘risky’ missions in the World of the Livings, you had officially decided you were not going to accept such a treatment any longer. You were even better than the Third seat he had promoted a couple of years ago, yet he had confined you to a lower rank for the sake of his obsession to keep you safe and sound. You were so fed up. His decisions were questionable and even your collegues were starting rumors about ‘the Captain’s favoritism towards his wife’. On the other hand, arguing daily with your husband hurt you. The best solution was for you to be another Captain’s underling.

“Why? Do ya really think I’m gonna sign the documents to allow—”.

“It won’t be necessary” you cut him off, unfolding a paper signed from the Captain Commander himself. Of course you had outfoxed him. You were far-sighted, sadly. Your husband knew how sneaky you could be, when you wanted something so desperately.

He tsked, scrunching up the paper in indignation and tossing it in the bin underneath his desk “You can’t do that to me! What have I done to deserve this?”.

“And what did I do to be perpetually the last choice for missions? You secrifice lower ranks to spare my life, when I could easily get the job done unscathed and save them from a miserable death!” you snapped, watching your husband clench his fists down his sides and circle the desk to stand directly in front of you.

The tension was palpable between you two. Shinji knew you were right. He had sent the ninth and tenth seats to fight off a couple of Hollows in Karakura only for them to never return. The mission was initially yours to take. The kind Lieutenant had even offered you his support, suggesting your husband to let you make your experinces under his watch.

The idea of you in another dimension with a man that was not him revolted Shinji. Sending two young recruits to die had been incredibly reckless from his behalf, but it was not yours the name your comrades were mourning now, right?

“You should be grateful I’m protecting you!” Shinji retaliated, staring you down coldly and expecting you to fold like you always did when this got messy.

The moment you bitterly laughed at his face and shook your head at his declaration, he realized how serious you were about abandoning the Division and spit on his face for loving you a little too much “This is your excuse for making me cast off my role of a shinigami? I have been serving the Gotei 13 longer before we started dating. I am a warrior, Shinji. No matter what happens to my sentimental life. I have sweared to protect this place before you decided protecting me was your priority”.

You watched his eyes widen in horror, hand palming his forehead before he closed his eyes in what you assumed was defeat. There was nothing he could do to prevent you from working for Urahara. Still, there was actually something he could do to temporary keep you out of the battlefield. You had been talking about it for years now, but the longevity of your lives somehow alleviated the pressure of procreating. Here. This was what he had to do. He had to impregnate you, fucking you so hard and intensely you were going to beg him to fill you up over and over again.

The hot minute of silence between you two made you think it was time to leave to pack your stuff, but you were suddenly spun around by your husband whose lips stole a scorching kiss from you.

The initial surprise left your body almost instinctively as you began to reciprocate his kisses. His hands fumbled with the sash of your hakama to yank your pants down your thighs. You could sense some eagerness in his frantic actions, his nimble fingers working their way insides your underwear to pry your dewy folds open. Sharp intakes of air filled the silence of his office, whilst he began to rub your clitoris furiously.

“You can’t solve your problems with sex” you pointed out, a strained moan erupting from your throat the moment he sank his index into you hole.

“Too bad you let me fuck your attitude out of you every damn time then” Shinji rasped out, teeth nipping at your earlobe while he heedlessly backed you to his desk. How many times he had wrecked you on the office forniture. How many times you had let him do that. Today was not an exception.

You rolled your eyes at him, legs finally free from your trousers as he lined his shaft to your entrance and hovered over you completely. Your legs enveloped his narrow his, a blond waterfall of silky hair draping over your face as he snapped his hips forwards. You moaned out in pleasure, his cock splitting your warm walls apart gradually. How beautiful you looked like that to him.

Mouth ajar, you spasmed out in bliss, allowing him to bask in your beauty.

“C’mon, tell me I’m a massive idiot for putting your safety above anythin’ else” he flaunted himself, pulling himself half way out before plunging back into you with force.

The desk creaked, you whined “You think a quickie can change my mind? Bold of you to assume I’m so shallow” you retorted, hands tugging at the long strands of his hair as he liked you to do.

But Shinji knew what he was doing, when he did not pull out that night. He knew what he was doing when the following day he sent you to Urahara with wobbly legs and his seed leaking out of you with each step you took. He knew he had won when you got pregnant and Urahara granted you a maternity leave.

After all, he was not going to lose the argument, or you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Happy Halloween, guys! I have literally picked a random thirst from my inbox and … Well, I have written it down impulsively. Hopefully, this does not suck. Anyway, let me know your precious opinions and remember to support your favorite blogs by liking, commenting and, above all, re-posting!

Love,

– Luce

TAGS: @j-u-u-z-o @jesurum-says-hi @villainsrtasty @yeowangies @my-my-my @dehemetera (un po’ di Shinji non guasta mai), @noirfan12 @pin-k-ink @persuasivus

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 114

Jaskier is sat at camp, DRENCHED. "You're lucky the drowners didn't start going for you!" Geralt was ranting at Jaskier, as he had been for quite a few minutes now. "How was I meant to know that the branch I was on was unsturdy?" "All the ways I've showed you how to check for that!" Geralt growls at him, which... Well, fair. "The worst part of it all is I lost one of my rings!" Jaskier whines, he glances a look at Geralt and sees a thunderous expression, thus he glances away again. "...I am sorry, Geralt. I didn't mean to get in the way." Geralt softens a bit and sighs. "Just... Don't do it again." The next morning, Geralt wakes Jaskier up by chucking a ring at his face. "Geralt! Oh thank you! However did you find it?" Geralt just grunts a bit but thankfully accepts Jaskier's praise and thanks for the rest of the day. "...Geralt-" "What? What is it?" "I- One of my rings is gone, I don't know what to do-" Geralt sighs. "Can't we just buy you another?" "No! This one was special!" It was one Geralt bought for him after all. Geralt slinks off and returns a few hours later, holding out the ring, much to Jaskier's delight. "You're so good at finding them!" "It's not that hard." Bullshit, Jaskier thinks. Jaskier is ripping his rings off in a rush in order to start tending Geralt, only to accidentally fling one toward the poor man. Geralt reaches up and catches the ring in mid-air, before grimacing as the movement had pulled at one of his wounds. "Oh, Thank you, Geralt!" Jaskier tosses a ring to Geralt one day and asks him to store it in a bag, safely. A few days afterward, Jaskier asks Geralt to find the ring in the bags and give it back. But then realizes Geralt is staring at his hands. He's waiting to be asked to get the other rings. With a look of... Excitement? Joy? "Geralt, do you really enjoy bringing my rings to me that much?" Jaskier asks, before cringing as it had clearly embarrassed Geralt. "It's not a bad thing! I think it's cute!" He says in a rush. It's official. Geralt loves to fetch. Like a dog. They now have a new routine at camp, that whenever they had nothing to do, Jaskier would toss some things, and Geralt would either catch them, or race after them as they soared through the air into the distance. Jaskier is bloodied and exhausted. His arms are tied in front of him, but he still can't seem to rip his gag off. His parents have sent for him, he just knows it. They probably have some noblewoman they want him to marry, or some relative died and they think it'll be a perfect segue into making him perform his duties. As if. Jaskier slips off one of his rings, and tosses it to the ground as the wagon pulling him starts riding off toward his birthplace. Hopefully Geralt is still just as determined to return the ring as usual.

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five

[CHAPTER FOUR]

I step off the bus shivering, holding myself for some kind of warmth. "Hooooly shit..." I huff, my breath swirling in front of me before dissipating into the air. Behind me is Samantha Giddings, stepping off the bus in a much warmer state.

"I have an extra jacket, Jordan," she offers.

"H-How far is the lodge?" I chatter. Sam laughs and places her back pack on the ground as the bus drives off.

"Far enough," she says, pulling out a dark grey zip up. It was thin, but it was better than nothing. "I can't believe you forgot your coat."

"Somebody at the station stole it when I went to the bathroom," I mumble, letting go of my own bag. "I think I have a hoodie, though, too." I unzip my own back for my thick, light pink hoodie. I pull it on over my head before sliding the jacket on over it.

"Feel better?" Sam smiles. Her hands are on her hips as she waits for me. She looks like an impatient mother.

"Much. Thank you," I sigh. We officially begin our long climb to the lodge.

"Chris didn't take you with him?"

"No, Josh wanted him to come early to help get things set up, so I just rode the bus."

"I see." A silence falls between Sam and I. I really like Sam for what I know about her, but neither of us considered the other a friend, so there was an air of awkwardness as we walked. "So, you and Chris," Sam starts. "You're cousins, right?"

"Yes ma'am," I nod.

"So, you know each other really well, or what?" I shoot Sam a look of confusion.

"Uhm, yeah, he's my best friend. Why?" A smile creeps onto my face. "Should I hook you up, or...?"

"No! No, haha, Jordan," Sam's complexion was already rosy from the biting cold, but I swear I could nearly see the steam from the snow rising from her face. "I'm just trying to make conversation. Shit, you remind me of my mother. She's been trying to get us together for... whatever reason." I laugh and nearly fall over a lifted branch. The mountain was feeling steeper as we continued on.

"Chris is a really good guy. He used to be kind of douchey when we were younger, but he's really grown into himself. He definitely pulls his annoying pranks, still, but it's highly preferable to the old things he and Josh used to get up to." Sam nods. She's much more athletic than I am so she's a bit further ahead of me now.

"Speaking of Josh, what's your guys' deal?" She stops to let me catch up.

"Our deal? What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't tell if you hate each other or have never wanted to be with another person so much in your life." This time, I do fall over, slipping on some ice and falling face first into a hill of soft snow. It's deep enough that I sink in, the white powder covering my ears enough for Sam's laughter to be muffled. She helps me up, snorting once, which makes me laugh a little, too.

"Uhm, well," I start, my mouth suddenly dry. "He was my bully, growing up." Sam tilts her head before beginning to brush the snow off me. "Made me cry a lot. The hating each other is much closer than... the other thing you said." She hums in response.

"I don't know, there's always been this way he looks at you," she says, just above a whisper. We continue to walk, the cable car building now in view. It doesn't take long before she's starting to pull ahead of me again. "I can't put a finger on it, myself, but it's just... different." I can't help but notice Sam's expression, one of confusion and... frustration? I narrow my eyes at the back of her head.

"Probably just your average disdain, or whatever."

"Nothing average about that guy," she retorts. "I don't know."

"He made my grade and middle school life a living hell. Would've been high school, too, if I didn't choose to go to a different one just to avoid him." Sam turns to look at me, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Oh, so he bullied you," she says, biting her lip. "Like, really?"

"His first prank on me was putting rats in my locker," I laugh. It's not funny, being scared by fat rats in your locker - but in hindsight, I can't help but laugh.

"Where'd he get the rats from?" Sam asks, smiling as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to find amusement in my story.

"Biology class," I answer. "Though I'm not sure how he actually snuck them out of there under the teacher's nose."

"Impressive, honestly." Sam sighs. We finally make it through a gate and to the cable cars, where Chris waited with the key. 

"Hello, ladies," He greets, bowing dramatically. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" I bow back, but Sam does not.

"The cable cars, Chris," she says. She's smiling yet she seems unamused. He sighs, continuing the dramatics, and puts the back of his hand on his forehead. 

"Ah, another wench, ignoring me, yet pleased to exploit my services... This world is dark as ever." He turns, swinging his arms, and goes to the door to open it for Sam and I. Sam rolls her eyes and follows Chris.

"Why did Josh have you come back down here just to let us in?" I ask, taking my seat in the car next to Chris. I was thankful we didn't have to wait for its arrival. 

"The Washingtons keep everything locked up to avoid squatters," Chris explains. "You guys are the last up, so, I'm riding back with you." 

"Oh, man, we're last?"

"By an hour or so, yeah." The rest of the ride is silent, the three of us looking out the window at the view. After a while, we eventually make it to the top of the mountain.

"Goddamn it I'm so cold," I huff out as the doors to the car open. "Let's hurry up and get inside, PLEASE!" Chris and Sam laugh at my urgency, trailing behind me as I start into a jog, passing an old picnic table. The lodge slowly comes into view as I continue down the trail, and I smile. I see somebody, and I move a bit faster to catch up. 

I can't help but frown when I see who it is.

"Hi, Josh." I greet. Josh turns around, a smile on his expression. When he notices it's me, though, it disappears.

"Hi, Jordan, glad you could make it," he says through gritted teeth. I hear Chris sigh when he spots Josh and I interracting.

"You guys are so confusing," he says, slapping Josh on the back before draping his arm over his shoulders. He turns to Sam. "One minute, this guy sits next to her INSTEAD OF ME at a pizza place and is being nice, and the next-" Josh tries to shrug him off.

"Chris, would you get-"

"And the next," Chris talks louder to negate Joshua's protests. "He's talking to her like she ran over his dog. Look at the rage in his eyes, man!" I wrap my arms around my shivering figure.

"Can we please go inside?" Josh rolls his eyes, finally stepping out from under Chris's arms and motioning me to follow him in. Sam and Chris exchange a look I can't catch the meaning of.

"Jordan!" Beth squeals. Josh flinches at the noise, but a smile begins to take it's rightful place on his lips. Beth wraps her arms around me in a tight hug, nearly knocking me down.

"Hi, Beth," I laugh, catching my balance and returning the greeting. "Do you greet everyone like this?"

"Yes!" Hannah answers for her sister as she joins in the embrace. Her head snaps to Josh. "Did you say hello, Joshua?" He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I said hello."

"Did you hug her?" My eyes widen at Hannah. Both her and Beth have not let me go. Before they force Josh to hug me, I butt in.

"There's no need for-" it's too late. Hannah grabs Josh by his shirt and pulls him into the group hug. He groans, but complies, knowing it's futile to battle his younger sisters. He's careful not to touch me.

When they finally let me go, I sigh in relief and smile at them. "It's good to see you."

"We're so glad you could make it," Beth smiles. She adjusts her beanie as she leads me to the couch in the huge living room. "Are you cold?"

"Oh hell yeah," I laugh. "And of course, thank you for inviting me. It actually means a lot." Beth 'aw's at me as she sits down. There's a fireplace going, so instead I move to sit at the edge. It burned, but not too much. "Where's everybody else?" I ask, looking around me. 

"I think they're just settling into their rooms," Beth answers. "Josh and Hannah are probably in the kitchen. Do you want to see where you're sleeping?"

"Later," I say, smiling at her. "I'd like to warm up first." She smiles back at me.

"Sure thing. Do you mind if I take your bag to your room?" 

"You don't have to do that."

"We're your hosts! I want to." I laugh softly and nod. Beth happily stands from her spot on the couch to take my bag upstairs to wherever they had me sleeping. As she disappears from view, Emily and Mike pass her on the stairs, followed by Ashley and Matt. 

"Oh, she's here! Didn't think you'd make an appearance," Emily says, looking me up and down in annoyance. 

"I said I'd be here," I respond softly. My eyes turn to the others behind her. None of them make eye contact with me, staring instead at the stairs they walked down. 

"One can still hope you changed your mind!" Emily sighs in a mocking tone, a sarcastic smile on her face. Jess appears, walking quickly down the stairs past Emily and moving to you.

"Hi, Jordan!" Jessica greets me warmly, giving me a quick hug. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't completely shocked at this. Jess was never outright mean to me, but a kind, excited welcome was the last thing I'd expected from her. I'm not one that's familiar with perfumes, but whatever Jess was wearing smelled immaculate.

"Uhm, hey, Jess," I respond. "You smell really good." Mentally, I'm slapping myself. Was that weird to say? She pulls away from the hug. Her smile is wider, now.

"Oh, thank you! It's actually brand new, I bought it this morning before I -"

"Excuse me!" Emily huffs, attempting to shoulder check me as she goes to the couch. I'm able to dodge it, being checked enough to know when it's about to happen. I sigh heavily. She went completely out of her way to do that, I'm nowhere near the couch. I'm so close to asking what her deal is when Jess continues.

"Emily is my girl, she's actually really great she's just, like, really tired or something. I don't know. Try to not take her too seriously, okay?" she takes both of my hands into hers and looks me in the eyes.

"...yeah, okay," I agree. She thanks me before turning to go sit on the couch with the others, her twin pony-tails bouncing. I awkwardly wave at them all. Ashley smiles meekly and nods while Matt offers me a small wave back. Mike glances at me and nods so slightly I can barely see it, which I can only assume is at my own mercy.

"Okay party people," Josh starts, walking back into the living room. "Now that we have everybody here..." Chris, Sam, and the twins follow behind him. "Thank you all for coming. Drinks are in the kitchen... Now let's get fucking wasted!" Josh throws his hands into the air and mock cheers while the others whoop. I step back until my back is to the wall, trying to stay out of the way as everyone heads to the kitchen.

I'm not sure why I'm trying to hide. It's not like I wasn't invited. It's not like I'm not welcome - though, I can't help but feel that I'm not. Other than the twins and Chris, nobody seemed to actually enjoy my presence. I decide that, for now, I'll stay near the fire.

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

"Jordan!" Chris calls, walking to me with a drink in his hand. "Are you cooked yet?" I look up from my phone to see him. He was walking just fine, but it was just crooked enough for me to know he was tipsy. It had been two hours since Josh had announced drinks were available, and no one appeared to have wasted a second.

"Cooked?" I smile, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" he sits down next to me, his drink nearly spilling. It was filled to the brim. "You've been around this fire all night! Are you going to come hang out, or, what?" I cross my arms and shrug.

"I think you'll be okay without me."

"But I want you around," Chris says, softly. "You're my family, I love you. And I love having you around, and I love having my friends around." He drapes an arm over my shoulder, and I lean into him. "Having my favorite cousin and all of my friends in the same place is honestly just amazing for me." I sigh again, my walls crumbling.

"Fine, I'll hang out." Chris springs up in excitement. This time, he does spill his drink. I'm not familiar enough with alcohol to know what it was, but the smell tells me it's strong.

And half of it is on my jeans.

"Oh, shit, Jordan, I'm sorry," Chris apologizes. I laugh and tell him not to worry as Hannah comes over to me.

"I'll show you where your room is, if you want to change!" she offers. I nod, and she begins leading the way. Once we're up the stairs, she stops and turns to me.

"What do you think of Mike?" she asks, her tone hushed but excited. My eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Mike? Emily's boyfriend?" I ask. I look around as if Emily could be hearing us. "I don't know, I feel like speaking his name will curse me to eternal damnation." Hannah laughs and pushes my shoulder. As quickly as we stopped, we continued down the hall. When we get to the last wooden door, she opens it for me. I thank her as I walk in, and she follows to sit on my bed while I kneel at my bag.

"C'mon, tell me what you think! He's handsome, right?" She's a bit louder now that there's no way we can be heard.

"Yeah, I guess so," I admit. It was common knowledge.

"Oh, my God, you guess so? Jordan, he's so dreamy." Hannah flops back onto my bed and sighs, as if lovestruck. As I find a pair of pants, I stand and side-eye her. "His hair, his eyes, his muscles? I just CAN'T!" She smacks a pillow onto her face and squeals in excitement.

"I guess he's also taken," I say. Hannah removes the pillow and rolls her eyes. "But, he seems nice. I don't know. Not really my type." At that, she sits up like Michael Myers. I feel instant regret as I knew what she was going to ask me. I start to pull my pants down, covering myself as much as possible.

"So, what is your type?" I sigh for what feels like the millionth time that day.

"I don't know, Hannah, I never really paid attention to that sort of stuff."

"There has to be something, Jordan," Hannah insists, standing up as I pull on a pair of grey sweatpants. "Eye color? Hair? Bald? Do you like muscles? C'mon Jordan, give me something!" I look in the mirror and take off Sam's jacket and my oversized hoodie, ignoring Hannah for a moment as I thought about what my 'type' was. My t-shirt is form fitting, but not skin tight.

"I like green eyes," I offer quietly. It's the first thing I can think of, and I hope that will satisfy her. I look at her in the reflection of the mirror and there's something in her expression that worries me.

Mischief.

"I'll accept that for now," she sighs, failing to hide her scheming grin. "C'mon, Jordan, no more hiding. Everybody is already tipsy so they'll totally be way nicer."

"If you say so."

"I do." Hannah smiles at me and takes my hand.

"You Washingtons," I laugh. "What's up with your family and taking people by the hand when you take them somewhere?" Hannah bursts out laughing. When we get to the kitchen with everyone else, her smile is wide.

"What's so funny?" Emily asks, tilting her head. I suddenly felt as though I was in trouble.

"Jordan just pointed out upstairs that the Washington family has a thing with holding hands when we take someone somewhere," Hannah giggles.

"Oh, shit, she's right!" Josh gasps. "Duuuude." Chris bumps his shoulder against Josh's.

"Duuuude!" They suddenly start shoving each other back and forth, everyone else in the kitchen giving way immediately as if this were a common occurrence. I lean over to Ashley, who noticeably leans away as if in disgust. I ignore this.

"Does this happen often?" I murmur. She laughs and seems to relax some.

"Yes." The boys were on the floor now, wrestling and laughing. Hannah is whispering something to Beth, and both of them are glancing at me. If they were trying to hide the topic of their conversation, they had failed miserably.

"...I like your hat." I compliment softly. Ashley seems surprised by this, but her smile doesn't falter.

"Thanks, Jordan."

"AND I AM THE MIGHTY WINNER!!" Josh exclaims, making me jump. He stands up quickly, stumbling some as he does. Once he catches his balance, he places a foot atop Chris's chest. He was playing dead, eyes closed and sticking his tongue out. Josh is breathing heavily and laughing. Everyone in the kitchen applauds, laughing and cheering - Emily, even, though not without a major roll of the eyes. My own smile is wide enough that it feels strenuous.

Josh's face was red from the exercise and his thick, dark hair was messy and disheveled. Though it was usually brushed back, it was tousled to the point where it was stuck to his forehead in sweat. Josh's hair was never in his face, so it was odd to see. He's breathing heavily, his winning smile never leaving his face even as Chris starts to get up.

I don't realize I'm staring until Josh looks up at me, locking eyes with mine. My smile drops. His own falters, but he doesn't look away. I gulp and I can feel my face growing hot with embarrassment. He looks as if he's scanning my facial features, trying to figure me out. For a moment I swear he glances at my body. It's not until Jess suddenly bumps my shoulder and hands me a drink that I'm able to snap out of it. She gives me a wide-eyed 'what was that??' look as she turns back away from me to talk to Mike and Emily. I look over at Josh again, and he's no longer looking my way.

Why was he looking at me like that? I furrow my eyebrows and look into whatever Jess handed me in a red solo cup. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I look up at Hannah. She smiles sweetly at me, raising her eyebrows in excitement. I wonder what she's doing, but when she looks down at my drink I understand she's trying to be encouraging in her own drunken way.

"Jordan, you don't gotta, uhm, drink that, if you don't wanna," Josh says, bumping hips with his sister hard enough to have her stumbling a few feet. "If you don't feel safe, y'know?" He stands up straight and reaches for my drink. "You gotta feel safe when you're under my care." My heart skips a beat and I pull the cup away from his hand. He gives me a surprised yet concerned look. I take a deep breath and put the cup to my lips.

This isn't my first time drinking. It won't be my first time drunk. Around people, however? Yes, this was a first. The only person I've been drunk around was Chris during a couple of our cousin sleep overs in high school. I not only sip my drink, I gulp it down quickly. It burns. It's not good. I knew, right as I took my final gulp, that I was fucked. Everybody had migrated out of the kitchen by now and into different parts of the lodge, leaving Josh, Chris and I in the kitchen. I can already feel the heat from the alcohol begin to buzz around my cheeks.

"Duuuude." says Chris.

"Broooo..." says Josh.

"Guuuuys...." says I. Chris and Josh laugh at me.

I laugh, too, and I feel good.

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

Hey y'all, thanks for reading! I'm really glad to be posting another chapter so soon after the last - and there will likely be another very soon! I'm in the writing zone right now, I suppose.

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby @kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest

[carolmunson]

wake up slow | barista!steve harrington

entry for my fall frenzy requests this request comes in from @superblysubpar: 'there's a scenario with bookstore / library date AND a dialogue prompt that says "what are you reading?"' with steve harrington summary: it's 1990. you're on the opening shift at the bookstore you work at, only to be surprised at a newcomer claiming to be up for an interview for the open barista position in the cafe at the back. sort of put off to start, it's no surprise when things start to bloom over time, and i'm not talking about coffee grounds. tl;dr carol writes a mini romcom.

tw: minors dni, there's nothing too out of whack in this one but i still don't want minors in here. reader is a little sassy but also like, pretty normal overall.

That damn key jams every time it rains -- doesn't help that you left your umbrella at home. Doesn't help that the 'light mist' turned into a heavy downpour the closer you made it to the book store. Doesn't help that you had to park a street over because of street cleaning and had to walk a block in the rain. Now the damn key.

"Come on," you grumble, jiggling an wiggling to no avail. Insert, r-insert, slight tilt to the right, jiggle, pull out a little, turn a little left and then -- nothing. You take the key out only for it to fall to the ground with a fairy like tinkling.

"Come -- the fuck -- on," you nearly growl under your breath while your coat gets heavier and heavier with rain, hood soaking through and dripping water onto your face. You bend down to get the key with a sigh meant for people with back pain, coming back up again to see the coffee bar manager on the other side of the glass door. He chuckles, salt and pepper beared thick over his chin and cheeks. Ruddy skin beams red even in the cool grey light of the morning, 30 years a butcher who pivoted into coffee when he turned fifty and had a really good knack for it.

"Easy morning?"

"Does it look like one, Carl?" you ask, stepping in when he opens the door. He laughs again, a hearty belly laugh that might as well have transported him into a Santa suit in December. "What happened to you?" he asks, following you into the back room where you start putting your stuff in your cubby. You switch out your wet sneakers and socks for the platform loafers and knee highs in your bag. Now that the fall weathers hit, it's all corduroy and knit sweaters, circle skirts and tall socks. If you're going to be on your fifth year working at an idyllic bookstore, you might as well look the part.

"Weather app lied, street cleaning, forgot an umbrella," you shrug, "Just another manic Monday, y'know?" "I know," he nods, "Gimme one second." Carl comes back with a white paper cup and black lid that makes you smile from the inside out, "Is that what I think it is?" "Isn't it always?" he smiles, "I got it ready the second I saw you on the schedule. Caramel latte, hint of cinnamon. Since its -- ya know, fall officially, I put a little maple in there, too." "You spoil me," you sigh, taking the cup from him and letting the warmth radiate through your hands.

"I do," he nods, "But, that latte was the last of my regular milk so I need to run out and grab a few gallons before we open up. You okay to be hangin' out by yourself?"

You nod, of course you're okay to be hanging out by yourself. You take the first sip, letting the caramel flood your tongue. The maple is a good addition. You're about to tell Carl to add this to the seasonal menu but he's already out the break room door with his coat before you can. You hear the jingle of the bell and the lock of the door and eventually the silence settling into the store around you.

You start to re-organize the window display which should've been done last night but 'last night you' said that 'this morning you' could handle it. You wish you could punch last night you in the face, but this is what you get for taking an assistant manager position.

You stack the back to school reads next to your knees where you're sat on them. The dust billows when you move them, making you sneeze with each turn of your head. You rub at your eyes, realizing at that very moment that the mascara you put on this morning has now definitely smudged -- you can't even find the emotional capacity to check considering the store opens in forty five minutes. You wipe down the display shelves, letting the oak gleam under the spot lights. The color is a warm reminder of the cozy moments to come the way that they do this time of year. As you start separating the 'cozy reads' from your 'spooky reads' in the pile on the other side of your knees you hear a knocking at the door --that's not very like Carl to forget his key.

You look over your shoulder, not seeing Carl at all, and if it is, he had some kind of Seventeen Again magic happen to him in that time at the store. You stand up, wiping off your knees and straightening your skirt before getting to the door where the rapping continues against the glass. "We aren't open yet!" you call out.

"M'here for Carl!" you hear, muffled through the panes. "For the barista spot?" you yell back. The guy nods under his hood, the rain picking up in heavy sheets. You sigh, unlocking the door and letting him in. "Carl's not here, he ran out to get some more milk but um, you're welcome to wait in the break room if you want," you explain, wiping a palm over another display through the main hallway and wiping the dust off on your hip. "Thanks," he says, hood coming down to reveal a head full of thick chestnut hair. A gold ring shines on the the hand that runs through it, looks like a family crest type, right on his middle finger.

"I'm Steve," he says with a smile, hand now outstretched to take yours. You look at it and then at him, finally taking in the sight before you. Prominent straight nose, warm amber eyes, lips that definitely use chapstick regularly. He has a nice smile, the kind you read about in the romance novels in the back of the store, the kind people write about.

You take his hand and introduce yourself, he has a business major handshake and you only know that because you dated a handful of them back in college. You try to stifle a chuckle but it comes out airily out of your nose.

"Something funny?" he asks when you both let go. "No, no, sorry, I just thought of something from the other day," you shake your head, "Don't worry about it." He nods, taking off his coat and closing his umbrella following your lead to the back, "It's a cute place."

"Yeah, it's nice in the morning," you nod, "I normally close but -- doing a favor for a key holder today; so you have the pleasure of seeing the troll of the store in her natural habitat."

"What?"

"Nothing -- nevermind," you shake your head, cheeks burning with a wave of embarrassment when you look back and notice that he's genuinely very handsome. You get to the break room, pointing out the spare cubby where he can hang his coat and umbrella. He's in a sweater you swear you've seen on the Cosby Show -- dark green and patterned, a perfect combination of colors against his skin. It cuffs at the wrists, you can see a sliver of his white t-shirt underneath at the collar, a whisper of a gold chain tucked beneath it.

"Yeah um," you start, feeling your heart start to patter in your chest when he takes a seat at the table by the cabinets, "You can just wait here. I'll let Carl know when he comes back."

"Okay," he smiles, "Thanks."

You nod again, heading into the employee bathroom to collect yourself for a moment -- seeing your reflection. You forgot you had rubbed your eyes, masacra smudged in black smears nearly down to your cheeks. "I look insane," you whisper in horror, "Oh my fucking god."

You cover your face for a moment, trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment racking your chest. Definitely looking like the troll of the store, you silently scream into your palms, another dramatic whisper of, "I should just fucking kill myself."

Despite the humiliation, you know it's funny. This would happen to you. This hot guy would come in when your mascaras a mess and your hair is fucked up from the rain, when the weather is bad and your tights have a run, when your allergies are rampant from the dust. Of course he would!

You wet a paper towel and do your best to wipe off the smudges, happy to look a little less insane after a dab of tinted lip balm makes it onto your lips and cheeks.

When you re-emerge he's fiddling with his CD player and his over ear headphones, working on a knot in the wire. You go back over to the counter and take a sip of your forgotten latte.

"What do you drink?" he asks.

"Carl makes it special for me, it's not on the menu," you tell him over the black plastic top before taking another sip. He grins, a soft nod moving his hair with him -- so it's like that. "I didn't ask if it was on the menu. I asked what you drink," he says, leaning back in the chair. His eyes lingering on you sends a zip up your spine, wondering if he's giving you a once over or not.

"It's a caramel latte with maple and cinnamon," you tell him. His confidence both intruiges and enrages you, both making you want to tell him to get out but also learn more about this hot guy that wants to be a barista with a Wall Street handshake, "So why do you wanna work here?"

"Is this the start of my interview?" he laughs.

"No, I'm just wondering," you shrug.

"I'm back in school about twenty minutes away," he says, "Did it for a little when I was in high school -- coffee, I mean. Ice cream shop after that, video store after that. Went to school, took a break, back in it. My dad thinks having jobs like this builds y'know -- character and whatever."

"Jobs like this?" you ask, jaw tensing with annoyance.

"Like, y'know, jobs with the people," he tries to explain, pink building on his cheeks when he realizes he might've said something shitty, "They're not like bad jobs, that's not what I mean -- I mean like, y'know -- not suits kind of jobs. Regular shit."

"Regular shit," you nod, biting back what you wanna say. That gold crest ring should've been enough to tip you off, but your next question is the ace in the hole, "What're you back in school for?"

"Getting my MBA."

Of course.

"Nice," you lie, fake smiling into your next sip -- the latte going cold as your insides when you come to the conclusion that he's just some hot grade A asshole, "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," he calls out while you make your way back to the floor, "I really like your name, by the way! It suits you."

You try not to let that compliment change your mind.

He gets the job, but you don't see him a lot. He opens an then goes to classes at night, you close most of the time -- only catching him really in the first hour of your shift and the last hour of his. You're both too busy to be finding time to talk; him with his mid-shift clean and you with your hourly sales goals and mid-day schedule re-adjustments.

But he does wave when you come in. He calls out your name when you bustle past the coffee counter and weave through the tables to get to where you need to go. It's nice of him, you guess, but the stain of him explaining that the job he's doing is just for regular people taints it for you. Maybe he thinks you're just some menial worker bee that he only knows for now, since his daddy probably has a job lined up for him once he pays through his masters degree.

Job with a suit where the bookstore will be a distant memory for him, whereas you're on a two year track to becoming the manager and likely future owner when the owners get too old to manage it. Job with a suit where he'll pass by the store and shake his head at 'how stupid it was', a 'can you believe people work there?' head toss to a coworker while he get a coffee somewhere else. Meanwhile, it's your entire life, and so are all the stories inside.

A few weeks pass and the days get a little colder, the nights starting earlier as they go. You have an opening shift that chills your bones, hugging your wool coat tight to your body while you fiddle with the key at the door, groaning at the tinkling of it hitting the concrete again.

"Rough morning?"

You look up to the door opening, seeing a pair clean white Nike Air Force 1's singaling who it is.

"It is now," you mumble, grabbing the key and bustling inside.

"Surprised to see you here," he says, following you to the back, "You're not on the schedule." "Last minute switch up, Rochelle has a christening," you say, hanging your coat in the cubby and switching out your sneakers for platfoms again.

"Oh, nice," he grins, "So why is it a rough morning? 'Cause I'm here?"

"Sorta kinda," you shrug, "Did you alread--"

"I got sales report from yesterday on the check out desk, yes," he crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame.

"And th--"

"And the inventory report, and before you ask, yes I checked that all the milk is in stock and that we aren't low on beans. I've been here for a month, honey, I know what I'm doing," he mutters.

"Gross," you pull a face at him over your shoulder, "Don't call me honey."

He shrugs with a smirk, "Rochelle likes it."

"Can you go skulk to your caffeine den and leave me alone?" you snap, "I'm trying to open a store, here."

"Skulk, huh?"

"Too big of a word for you, Harrington?"

"You're on fire this morning," he smiles, that smile they write about.

"I kinda like it," he adds before turning out of the door and back into the warm light of the store towards the coffee bar. You swallow while you watch him leave -- I kinda like it ringing in your ears and floating down to your chest where is settles in, cozy and kind.

The reports are where he said the would be, neat and organized like he was the manager and Carl was his employee. You normally spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out what Carl had written in chicken scratch on the forms, but Steve's sharp and elegant script was easy to read and perfectly spaced. Annoying.

Even his signature was handsome.

After you get the registers counted and ready you file the forms and mark the reports so they'll be ready for your manager when they get back in store. You check the list of what needs to be done, the chilly late October air swooping in from the cracks under the door. Your face sours while you make your way over to the coffee bar in the back, seeing Steve set up the pastry delivery in the cases on the side.

"Did you come back here to yell at me about something?" he asks, focused on the task at hand, "I got all morning."

"You didn't turn the heat on," you cross your arms, "That's like, the first thing you're supposed to do."

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head, popping back up to lean on glass of the case, "Did you read your morning report or just sit there and admire my handwriting?"

"Excuse me?" you bite back.

"Heats fucked," he shrugs, ducking back down to finishing his display, "They're sending someone to take a look at it later today."

"Whatever," you grumble, turning on your heel to go dust the front shelving and reshelf the returns from yesterday.

"Hey," he calls out, waiting for you to turn around before he continues. Your eyes catch his amber ones, sparkling with a mischief reserved for school boys who are mean to the girls they like, "You look nice today."

You look him over, sucking in your cheeks to kill the smile growing on your lips. His navy sweater hugs a bit across his chest and shoulders, giving way to billow slightly over his midsection and arms. Kahki chinos cut just at his ankles so his sneakers don't even look stupid paired with the outfit, socks just the right height to look cool and not forced. Awful.

"Yeah, you too Harrington," you agree quietly before walking away; and while you killed the smile, he was able to catch that crease in your eyes, the twitch in your shoulders. You thought that was nice, he wonders if he can make you do that again.

You head over to the back of the cafe during your break, no windows near your designated 'break chair'. It's close enough to the fireplace that it always feels like a rainy day even when it's nice outside. Now that Carl started his shift he got your drink ready to go the moment you walked over.

"Well la-di-da," Steve cocks his head when Carl walks over to greet the customer at the register, rag in his hands wiping up the pick up counter, "Expert service and you're not even gonna tip?"

"Here's a tip: leave me alone when I'm on break," you bite. Why did he have to be so handsome? Slight pink on his cheeks from the heat of the espresso and coffee machines, the lights overhead. The heat finally works again and it's almost working too well from the small bead of sweat forming above his brow. He runs a big hand through his hair again, the same way he did when you first met him. You try to ingore the way his bicep bulges in his sleeve when his arm stretches.

His tongue runs over his teeth, settling between them for a second before looking straight at you, "Good one."

"That's what you get when you read books," you say sarcastically, "You should try it sometime."

"You should teach me," he leans over the counter, resting his chin on his palm, "Bet you're a great teacher."

You bite your tongue, pulling in your lips and squinting your eyes to keep the smile from brewing a second time. You pick up your mug and sip your latte while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Nothing this time?" he asks, waiting for you second blow. You shake your head no, occupying your mouth with the rim.

"No?" He asks, you shake your head again, somehow glued to the spot under his stare. He slings the rag over his shoulder, still looking at you. "Well I don't wanna keep you standing here," he teases, offering you a wink that is so soul crushingly charming you could just die, "Enjoy your break."

You've never turned around so quickly in your entire life.

The following week you take another opening shift, happy to settle into the quiet of the cafe now that the morning rush of moms, dads, students, and aspiring writers have cleared out. The fire crackles just right, the leather warmed up to your body heat while the book sucks you in further an further. Thirty minutes pass when you hear a shift infront of you, the subtle squeak of leather being sat in with a soft crunch.

"What're you reading?"

You peer over the top of the spine to see Steve sat in the chair across from you, legs open wide while he leans his forearms on his knees. His long fingers slide together, gold ring shining in the light again to remind you of who he is and where he comes from. As handsome as he is today in his black henley and white t-shirt combo you'll never quite forget the fact that some MBA bro is perched in front of you like a puppy with nowhere to go.

"Sound out the cover, that should tell you," you boredly mumble before tucking back into the chair. His fingers peak over the spine, pushing the book down from the top. He pulls the leather chintz closer to yours with ease -- of course he does.

"Or you could tell me," he says with a softness you weren't ready to hear. Your chest gets warm again, creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

"It's Pride and Prejudice."

"S'that your favorite book or something?" he asks, elbow driving into his thigh so he can rest his chin on his fist.

"One of them," you shrug, "I always read it this time of year, kind of fits the mood of the season."

"Hm," he nods, like he's really listening, "What's it about?"

"Basically," you start, thinking of a way to describe it in two sentences or less, "It's like -- hm -- it's about two people, a love story. One guy is some super rich asshole and he's a jerk because the girl isn't as rich and him. And the girl isn't from the same social standing so she's a jerk because she already assumes that he's a super rich asshole. Like...I don't know, idiots in love who are too stubborn to love each other."

"Hm," he nods again, grin splitting his face, "Interesting."

"What's your favorite book?" you ask, wanting to wipe that smug grin right off his face. His dumb handsome face with that perfect sloped nose, and eyes that look like they're looking directly into you.

"I don't have one," he shrugs.

"You have to have one," you balk, "Like, even if it's one you read in school or something." "Hmm," he sits back up, leaning back in the chair with his hands resting just under his chest.

"You have to know how to read to run a business," you shrug.

"I know how to read, honey," he laughs, "I just don't have a favorite book."

"At least try," you ecourage, albiet annoyed. He taps his fingers on his diaphragm, one knee bouncing while he thinks about it. His shirt rides up just a smidge in the back, revealing a sliver of skin you didn't think you'd ever see.

"Shel Silverstein," he says finally, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

"You didn't strike me as a poetry guy," you say, closing your book over your finger to hold your place.

"My mom went through this poetry phase -- and I'm my mother's son, so I had a poetry phase with her," he shrugs, "We wore that book out, think we had to get a second copy cause the first one was just like -- destroyed."

"Well that's...you know," you lean your head from side to side, "That's nice. It's cute."

"You'd know, right?" he smiles, that god damn smile Shel would write about in a new book. You'd bring back book burning just to throw it in the flames after it was published. He gets up, disappearing behind you for a moment and reappearing with your favorite green mug. He gingerly places it on the side table next to you.

"Compliments of the chef," he says, presenting it like a Michelin star meal.

You look at it, a perfect pour -- the cream rosetta leaf striking against the warm brown espresso. You can smell the caramel and maple already wafting off it, cinnamon sprinkled delicately on top.

"Um, thanks," you say quietly, taking the mug to your lips. He looks down at you eagerly when you take a sip, waiting for your reaction.

"Did you do something to it?" you ask before you take one.

"No I'm just -- damn, come on. I'm excited to see you try it," he sighs, "I worked hard on it."

"Fine, fine," you murmur, letting the latte flood onto your tongue. Its -- regrettably -- one of the best iterations of you've had in a while. The perfect creaminess without being too milky, enough caramel and maple without being too sweet, the espresso's bitterness cuts the sugar in just the right way to make it smooth. He knows he did it right by the way you go for a second sip without saying anything.

"I did good?" he quirks a brow.

"You did good," you nod.

"Good," he smiles, tapping the top of your chair, "'Cause Carl's putting it on the menu starting in November."

"How come?" you ask into your third sip, the steam billowing over your cheeks.

Steve lets his eyes flicker over your face slowly, offering a half shrug, "I told him to."

November brings the first pre-season snow, not that it mattered now that your favorite drink was a regular menu item now. Caramel and maple always in stock, espresso machine always on first thing in the morning.

You open twice a week now, seeing Steve more often than not. Dropping your key became less common now that he was normally at the door when you'd get there, ready to let you in.

"Another great day, right?" he'd tease.

Now that the holidays were in full swing the bookstore was busier than ever -- sales, bundles, events. You even started carrying children's coloring books and crayons in the kid's section; a whole set up just for kids to sit and color while their parent's browsed.

The stress was getting to you, constantly checking and rechecking the end of day sales versus last year, wanting to make sure everything was on a steady incline with a nice cushion for the next. It helped that the cafe seemed to be absolutely climbing in numbers since September. More and more people wanted to spend time over there, and the more time they spent the more time they looked at books or started reading. It wasn't shocking to see people checking out at the counter with a second coffee and a new book or two in hand.

You don't want it to be true, but you're sure the new barista had a play in what makes so many people stick around. You'd see the way Steve would flirt when he took orders, how he's listen to them intently, make every customer feel like they were the only person in the room.

At least that's how he'd make you feel when he caught your gaze from over the shelving, helping find books for new patrons from the college nearby. You both started to wave at each other at each passing glance, each look caught by surprise, each accidental yearning stare.

Mid-November greets you with a bitter chill, the very early morning doesn't even have the decency to greet with you the rising sun. It'll be atleast another half hour until then.

For the first time in a long time you don't drop the key, pushing into the store with ease. You waste no time turning the heat on, making sure the radiators bled a bit before hand. You rub your hands together while they settle in, putting your coat away in the cubby and switching out your shoes in the break room.

Opening on a Saturday morning isn't common for you, but it's the first event you've planned by yourself. A very simple read-along story telling with some kids from the neighborhood and their parents. You collected three solid winter time reads: The Mitten, The Snowy Day, and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. A solid hour of reading while the parents could peruse, or sit and watch while their kids tuned into a book instead of cartoons on Nick Jr.

Once you've given yourself the onceover for the morning you feel more confident about the upcoming next few hours. Your knit tights fit snugly over your legs, a touch sheered out with the stretch over your thighs but the pleats in your plaid maroon skirt cover that just fine, hitting just above your knees -- still covered, still sensible. Still cute enough to snag a single dad if one were to show up.

Your feet stay tucked in a pair of worn in platform mary-janes stolen from your sister's New York City closet when you went to visit her over the summer. The chunky knit sweater over the whole ensemble completes you, a spitting image of a 'caught on the street' look you saw in a Seventeen magazine that you still get delivered to you despite being well past the age group.

You thrifted the sweater with Steve in mind, it looked like something he'd wear.

Anyway.

As you set up the 'reading rug' in the cafe area you hear the familar unlocking of the door. The sun finally starting to seep in in golden shards through the panes, leaving squares of light on the wood floors and carpets below.

"Hey Carl!" you call out, "I got everything up and running for you."

You hear the keys jingle but not his smoker's cough, not his heavy steps finding their way to the cafe area. Instead you look up to see Steve with his hands on his hips, watching you struggle to move the leather chintz to the back wall as your reading chair.

"Redecorating?" he asks, looking around the cafe. Under his shearling lined aviator jacket is an open hunter green flannel you wouldn't expect to see him in, his white t-shirt underneath hugs tights to his chest and stomach. You unfortunately noticed how great of a view that is for you.

"Um," you started, looking around the room and the dissaray you seem to have made without realizing, "Why are you here?"

"Same reason your here," he says, stepping forward to shoo you away from the chair, "I'm on the payroll."

"You don't work weekends," you say, crossing your arms over your chest while he lifts the chair over the rug with a soft grunt.

"I do today," he says with a slight strain, "Where do you want this?"

"Uh," you start, "Just right in the center against the wall so everyone can see me."

"Oh, so you're reading to the kids this morning?" he laughs to himself after putting the chair down. He wipes his hands off on each other, shrugging off the jacket and holding it in one arm, "Bitter Betty is gonna entertain the young minds of Main Street?"

"Bitter Betty, huh?" you challenge, following him into the back room, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean," he shakes his head.

"I am very sweet," you tell him, a serious edge to your voice, "There are so many customer reviews saying how sweet I am."

"Sure," he nods, putting his coat away in his cubby, "I bet there are; since y'know, you're selling them something."

"I'm not just nice when I'm selling something," you say softly, arms coming protectively across your chest. A frustration bubbles in your chest while you look at him, following him back out into the cafe so you can keep getting the place ready before the families start to show up, "You think you know everything."

"I don't," he shakes his head, smiling while he checks over the machines and gets the first pot of coffee started.

"Yeah, you do. You walked in here two months ago and swear you know everything," you huff, getting the cafe back to a place of organized coziness.

"Okay," he chuckles, "Whatever you say, boss."

"You're infuriating," you mumble under your breath.

"Got that caramel latte coming right up for you, by the way," he says warmly.

Your head turns to see him watching you, he smiles, "Maybe you're a little nicer after you've had a coffee."

You smile back, unable to stop it this time.

"So that's a yes, right?" he cocks his head, fingers drumming on the counter while he watches you. That Harringtom charm pumping out at full speed.

"Y-yeah," you nod, "Whatever. You gonna go chop down a tree, Harrington? What's with the flannel?"

He looks down at his shirt and then back up at you with a soft shake of his head, "I better hurry up and get that started for you."

The kids look up at you with starry eyes, their parents smiling along with their coffees, lattes, espressos, and pastries. The Mitten was a hit and The Snowy Day is so far showing up to be a great follow up.

You take your time to really point out the pictures and adding on to the story since all three of them are pretty short. However, you're finding that kids between two and five are pretty easy to entertain if you do enough counting and make enough sound effects. Maybe you should've been a kindergarten teacher -- or maybe not. Maybe you should just keep doing book events.

You're halfway through when you show the illustrations to the group again, listening to them ooh and ahh at all the snow.

"Did um -- Miss -- did you know -- it snowed? It snowed at my house," one of the older kids announces, arm straight up in the air.

"It snowed last week, Michael, that's right," his mom pipes up, "Daddy had to shovel outside."

"Has everyone else seen snow? Raise your hand if you've seen this much snow!" you announce in your perfect parentese, watching while the older kids and parents raise their hands. The two year olds don't really get it so they just sit there and laugh.

You look up at all the hands, an enthusiastic 'Wow!' coming out of your mouth -- but you barely hear it. Behind the hands are a set of warm amber eyes looking at you from the coffee bar, soft and gentle. Enthralled even. You swallow and lick your lips quickly before smiling, catching his smile back as you look back at the book to start again.

After each couple of pages you catch each other, the pink on his cheeks rising when he looks away -- pretending to be occupied with something else. Cleaning, organizing, resetting the espresso machine. He can tell you're flustered by the way you clear your throat whenever you start to read again.

After The Snowy Day you take a ten minute break so that the parents can take their kids to the bathroom or re-up their beverages. The tip jar is full to bursting because nobody knows how to make a single mom feel like Steve Harrington does; and husbands will pay anything to get him to leave their wives alone.

You reset your chair, making sure the books you're reading are on display for purchasing on the shelving close by in your Winter Children's Bundle for a discounted price. As the ten minutes closes up you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

"Here," you turn around to Steve with a green mug in his hands, "It's just regular coffee this time, but -- figured you could use it."

You take it body first, reaching around for the handle only to feel his fingers brush against yours at the hand of. The soft touch isn't electric like it is in the books, it's like that but better. Warm like an oven, the gooey parts of you rising in a slow bake when you see him look down and turn away -- running that same hand through his hair on his way back to the counter.

"Thanks," you say over the chatter of parents and kids coming back to sit.

"Can I have something ready for you for your break?" he asks back.

"Surprise me," you shrug, sitting back on your chintz chair and taking the final book onto your lap. The kids cheer when they see Snoopy on the cover, a well loved favorite cartoon to finish off their morning. With the crack of the spine you can already smell the sales coming once this little event is over.

You work through your break, ringing up and helping customer after customer on easily one of the busiest Saturday's you've seen in a while. It normally doesn't get busy like this at least for another couple of weeks.

The stress of working through lunch barely matters though because your event was a bigger success than you could've hoped for -- logging in the notes for Rochelle that you should probably start doing this throughout the season just for good measure.

It's starting to get dark by the time your shift ends and the store closes -- early on Saturdays at a tight 4 PM. You let your sales girl go a little early, wanting to take the time to close up the store properly since you were the one who made it such a mess this morning. As you start to put the chairs back that had been moved from the cafe to the children's section you hear him, fingers tapping on the counter.

"You didn't come by for your break," he says, "And I put a lot of effort into that drink."

"Sorry, we can't all be flirting through our shifts like you can, Harrington," you snark with a grin, flipping the last chair over onto it's accompanied table.

"You don't have to clean up the coffee part of the store," he says, coming around with another mug in hand, "That's my job, y'know."

"I know," you say, "But I kind of fucked it up this morning so -- just doing my part."

"Well, here," he says, mug outstretched in his large hand, gold ring gleaming back at you, "For doing your part, I guess."

"You guess, huh?" you laugh lazily, taking it -- he places his fingers in a way that you have no choice but to touch them. You wonder if he did it on purpose, "What do you call this one?"

"'Surprise me'," he replies in a mocking drawl, flipping the rag over his shoulder again and leaning against the counter's edge. The first sip is unfortunately one of the most even temperatured hot drinks you've put past your lips.

"You're good at this," you blurt out, almost offended.

"Well don't look so upset about it."

"I am upset about it," you nod back over the lip of the mug, taking another sip. Mocha -- something. It's like hot chocolate and espresso but better, still caramel, still cinnamon, like a hug from your past but caffienated like your present.

"Consider me surprised," you nod, licking your lips again, "It's good -- it's um -- yeah. It's really good."

"Thanks," he smirks, "A few of the mom's thought so, too."

You let out a sigh through your teeth, rolling your eyes. He expected that, taking a step forward when your gaze comes back to center. You can smell the left over wraiths of his cologne and Old Spice deodorant, count the moles on his neck adorned with his hidden gold chain, see the hair on his forearms from his rolled up sleeves.

"You know something," he says quietly, "If I didn't know any better -- I'd think you like me."

"Like you?" you balk, eyes widening, "You wish."

He clicks his tongue when you get so defensive because it just proves him right. He crosses his arms with another step forward, head cocking to the side slightly while he sizes you up. Why did his creator need to make his forearms so beefy? So perfectly sculpted that you can't look at them without losing your train of thought? Stupid.

"I don't think I have to wish, honey," he says softly, Doc Martins creaking on the wooden floors, "I think...uh, I think I must allow you to tell me how ardently you admire and like me."

Your mouth falls open, staring at him with eyes as glassy at the kids who watched you read this morning.

"You -- no -- you read it?"

"Maybe," he says, another step forward, his arms bumping against your chest.

"Maybe?" you ask back, brow quirking.

"Yeah, maybe I did," he runs a hand through his hair, falling back away from his face to show off his sturdy brow bone, watching you with admiration down the slope of his nose.

He reaches down and takes the mug out of your hand with smooth finesse, arm long enough to reach back and place it on the counter behind him. When he leans back in place he's closer than before, toe to toe, nearly nose to nose.

"Maybe I bought it the day you told me about it," he shrugs, "Maybe I thought it was pretty close to something I had goin' on with a girl I know."

"A girl you know?" you challenge. You know exactly who he means, but it might be fun to hear him say it. "Yeah, sometimes I only see her like, an hour a day. But sometimes I get to watch her read on her break, sometimes I get to close with her on Saturdays," he explains warmly, the timbre of his voice deep against the crackling of the fire in the back corner of the cafe.

"This is the only Saturday you've closed with me," you counter, head tilting up slightly, close enough that the tip of your nose brushes his.

"Who said I was talking about you, honey?" he murmurs back, mischief in his eyes that are half hidden by his eyelids. You feel a puff of his breath over your top lip, still minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth.

"We both know you're talking about me," you smirk, self satisfied while his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes. He steps at an angle, making you step back so you're against the pick up counter.

"So sure of yourself," he he scoffs quietly, leaning over you and getting into your space. Each hand coming to the side of you to lean on the granite, caging you in, "I like that in a pretty girl."

"Most do," you shrug matter of factly.

"Yeah," he nods, "Think that's what I like about you."

"Maybe that's what I like about you, too," you nearly whisper out.

"Maybe?" he asks, lower lip ghosting over yours. "Mayb--"

The hand he uses to run through his hair finds itself flat over the back of yours, sliding down to over your cheek and jaw where he keeps you angled just right. He closes the millimeters between you, warm lips catching yours in a kiss that feels like passion but a power play you want to match.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, heads moving in soft tilts when you change angles. When you find yourself sat on the edge of the counter he uses the leverage to pull you close to him, hips between the fullness of your thighs.

His tongue skates over yours when it slides into your mouth, free hand ridding up the soft material of your tights, tips of his fingers inching under the hem of your skirt in an innocent tease.

Even the way he breathes through it is sexy, leaving you with a lingering guess of what he can do when he presses his lips against your neck. Tongue flitting and striping while he nearly nips a bruise onto your skin. You let out a gentle gasp, enough to admit defeat to him -- much to your chagrin. Steve comes back up to your lips to meet you with a few final deep kisses before you break apart.

He steps back once, the deep golden light of the sun setting cracks through the panes of the back window in the cafe, adoring him in a glow that shines of his hair and eyes. The kind of glow they write about, the kind of glow you read about.

You both take deep breaths, eyes hungry for each other -- unsure if you should go for more. He lingers, coming forward again to rest his hands on your thighs.

"I didn't read it," he confesses. "Pfffft. Why am I not surprised?" you huff, exasperated.

"But! But, but, but," he argues back, pecking you feverishly, "I had to go to like, five different places to find the movie from 1980 so -- I did actually put some effort into it."

"I love that one," you say back.

"I get points for that, right?" he asks expectantly.

"Yeah, fine. You're luck you're cute," you explain, "But you do definitely have to read it, at some point. If you wanna keep making out with me in the cafe after closing."

"Oh, absolutely," he grins, hand reaching to pull you in by the back of the neck for a final searing kiss, "You'll have to teach me, remember?"

You of course start closing together every single Saturday.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wiped Out

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: The match between Australia and Sweden

In the last half an hour of the game, Hayley Raso's studs end up connecting with your back.

You're in the air, trying to reach for a header from a corner. The ball grazes your head as you crumple to the ground like a lead balloon. Your back burns - as does your nose because you landed face first - and you can hear swearing behind you.

"Shit, shit," It's Raso," Are you okay? Kid, oh, shit. Can you feel your toes?"

Vaguely, you wonder why Raso's asking you these questions but somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember that she broke her back a while ago and didn't think she'd be able to walk again.

You can feel your toes so hopefully you're free from that.

But you're a bit preoccupied with the shooting pain up your back to really worry about it.

"Can feel my toes," You confirm through gritted teeth, slamming your hand onto the grass.

"That's good," Raso says," And-"

She's cut off by a blur of yellow and then she's on the ground. You're not sure which of your teammates slammed into her but you know that your cousin Frido is the one that's taken her place.

"Hey," She says softly, her hand ghosting over your head," You feeling okay?"

"Does it look like I am?" You reply and she laughs.

"Good to know she didn't knock the humour out of you," Frido says," Where did she get you?"

"My back. It's not too bad now but I'm pretty sure there's a mark."

Frido's laughter tapers off as soon as you mention your back and her face goes serious. Cautiously she pulls up your shirt and winces. "Bit more than a mark," She says," Lay still. We're going to get the medics out here."

"I'm fine," You say," Just need someone to patch me up."

"No," Frido replies, shaking her head," I don't want you on the pitch anymore. You're hurt."

"Frido-"

"No," She says," You're hurt."

"It's not too bad."

Your cousin shakes her head, one hand moving to rest on the back of your head. You've moved your face so you can see her properly. She's looking at you sternly.

"You're bleeding," She says.

You hadn't realised you were bleeding. Raso's studs must have caught you hard on the back. You wondered briefly how bad it was. You supposed it must have been pretty bad if it's got your calm, cool, collected cousin freaking out.

Or...Maybe she was being a bit dramatic.

Frido was like that sometimes, like that time when you were little and she kicked a football at you and it smacked you in the face so hard you lost a tooth. She wouldn't stop apologising when it happened and then she didn't let you out of her arms for her entire visit.

"How bad?" You ask as the medics arrive.

"Let's get you off," One of them answers.

"Subbed off? Or just off?"

"Subbed off," Frido says," Right? Right?!"

"We'll have a look and then decide," The medic says as he helps you up.

Frido takes her place next to you, holding your weight as you hobble off. She looks annoyed at having to go back on the pitch with you still injured but you notice the way the annoyance turns to anger when Raso walks past and in the next moment, you know that Raso isn't going to get out of this match unscathed just by the way Frido walks away from you.

"How bad?" You ask now that you don't have your cousin breathing down your neck.

"Just a bandage," The medics confirm," It's just a graze."

"Frido said I was bleeding."

He rolls his eyes. "Only a little bit. We were more worried that Raso broke your back."

"I think she was too," You quip, stretching out your back as it gets covered with a sticky gauze," I'm good to go back on?"

"Avoid getting kicked in the back again," The medic says," And you're good to go."

You jog a bit on the sidelines before the official lets you back on the pitch. You run on, rolling your shoulders a bit as you approach the throng of players getting ready for another corner in Sweden's half this time.

"What are you doing here?" Frido asks, crossing her arms over her chest," You're not meant to be here."

"I'm not getting subbed off," You reply stubbornly," The medics said it was a graze, not a cut."

"You were bleeding!"

"Barely!"

She sighs, running a hand down her face in frustration. "You stay the hell away from Raso. You stay the hell away from all the other defenders. If you go down again, I don't care if I have to drag you kicking and screaming off the pitch myself, you're being subbed off."

You roll your eyes. "You're so dramatic."

"I mean it," Frido says. Her voice lost its hard edge and you're glad that the ref is trying to sort something out between Magda and Kennedy so Frido has time to do this with you. "Okay, I don't want one of these girls wiping you out. Your dad would kill me if I returned you with a concussion and then you wouldn't get to come back with me to Barca."

You huff but relent. "Fine," You say," I'll be more careful."

"Good." Your cousin moves you to stand in front of her as the ref walks away from Magda and Kennedy to start the corner.

"But I want cake after the match."

You can feel Frido sigh behind you and you just know she's massaging her temples. "Fine."