#I’ve watched this dozens of times and laugh every time

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Little witch||lance stroll x fem!reader

Word count 895

A/n �� this was one of my first requests on my old blog I doubt the OG requester is around anymore but it holds a special place in my heart.

If you were to ask Lance Stroll what he thought of his girlfriend, he’d say the usual things any man deeply in love would say. He’d describe how kind, funny, and beautiful you were. How you made every bad day better with just a smile or a hug. But if you pressed him, he might admit there was something different about you, something almost otherworldly.

Take, for instance, how you always seemed to know things before they happened. You’d casually predict the weather—right down to the minute the rain would start—or tell him, “Be careful today,” with that knowing look in your eyes, moments before he’d trip on a curb or bang his elbow in the garage. One time, you’d even warned him, “Watch out for your wrist, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to that, would we?” Two weeks later, during a bike ride, he’d broken it.

He didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you were just really observant. But when he mentioned it to Mick Schumacher, Mick had raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Maybe she’s a witch, Lance. Who knows?”

Lance had laughed it off at the time, brushing aside the comment. There was no way you could be a witch… right?

Still, certain things kept nagging at the back of his mind. Like how your black cat, Midnight, never left your side, trailing you from room to room like a shadow. Or how, every full moon, you’d gather up your crystals, arrange them meticulously on the windowsill, and let them soak in the moonlight. Then there was the jar of water you’d set out alongside them.

“What’s all this for, again?” Lance had asked one night, leaning against the counter as he watched you work.

“It’s for cleansing and protection,” you’d explained, holding up a chunk of amethyst with a proud smile. “You charge the crystals under the moonlight, and the water absorbs the moon’s energy. It’s called moon water—it’s useful for rituals or just for good vibes.”

He’d nodded, pretending to understand, though half of it went over his head. You were so passionate about it, and he loved the way your face lit up when you talked about these things. At the time, he chalked it up to a quirky hobby. But there was always a voice in the back of his mind whispering that there was something more to it.

That voice got louder when he discovered you could read and speak archaic Latin.

“When did you even learn Latin?” he’d asked, staring at you in disbelief after you effortlessly translated an inscription on a random plaque during a museum visit.

You’d shrugged. “I learned it when I was younger. It’s fascinating, really.”

Things started clicking into place a few weeks later when you visited your parents’ house. Over tea, your mom mentioned your family’s Celtic roots—Scottish on her side, Irish on your dad’s—and casually brought up how the women in your family were known for their “gifts.”

“Special abilities,” your mom had said with a wink.

That night, while lying in bed, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that Mick’s joke hadn’t been a joke after all. Could you actually be a witch?

A week later, the question finally burst out of him during a cozy night in. You were both snuggled up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you, half-watching a rom-com you’d seen a dozen times before.

“Are you a witch?” Lance asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You sat up, startled, and turned to face him. “What?”

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admitted, looking at you intently. “You do things that… normal people can’t. You know things before they happen. Midnight follows you like he’s your furry little bodyguard. And you have all those crystals and jars of moon water. So… are you a witch? You can tell me, you know.”

For a moment, you stared at him, your lips twitching as if trying to hold back a smile. Then you laughed. “Wow. Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“What?” Lance sat up straighter, frowning. “Wait, you mean… you are a witch?”

“Yeah,” you said casually, leaning back against the cushions.

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Hang on, how long have I been dating a witch and didn’t know?”

You glanced over your shoulder with a teasing smile. “Lance, I once dropped my spell book, and you picked it up. You even handed it back to me, saying, ‘Cool book,’ before walking off.”

He blinked. “Oh.” You burst out laughing at his stunned expression.

“Well, now I feel stupid,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, patting his leg reassuringly.

“Wait,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have a wand?”

“Yeah, I have a wand,” you replied offhandedly.

“Wait, really? Like, a real magic wand?”

“No, Lance,” you said, laughing again. “I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh. Right.” He paused, still processing everything. “So… are you going to hex me if I annoy you?”

You gave him a sly smile. “Guess you’ll have to behave and find out.” For the rest of the evening, Lance couldn’t stop staring at you, equal parts amazed and amused. Dating a witch wasn’t something he’d ever expected—but then again, you’d always been full of surprises. And, truthfully, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[scatter-the-stars]

Martin Short you comedic genius!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

that old cliché.

you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.

evan buckley x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.

word count - 6k

authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3

masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.

The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.

A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.

“Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yeah. But why?”

“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”

You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.

“You were watching me, huh?”

“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”

“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”

He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”

“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.

You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been like this all day.

You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.

“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”

You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.

“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”

“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”

“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.

“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”

“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”

“You’re gonna love him.”

“You said that already.”

“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”

And the problem is… she was kind of right.

No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.

Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.

The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.

Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.

But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.

And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.

By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.

You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.

You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.

“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.

“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”

You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.

“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”

He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.

“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”

“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”

Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.

“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.

“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”

You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.

You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.

“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”

You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.

“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.

Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.

Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.

He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.

Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.

Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”

He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.

“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”

You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.

“There’s a dance routine?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.

“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”

“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”

“What the hell gave you that impression?”

“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”

You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.

“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”

His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.

“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”

He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.

Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.

“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dance routine is spectacular.

It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.

Everything Buck does makes you like him more.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.

“Hi, Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, but why?”

He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.

“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”

You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.

“Is this Baileys?”

“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”

You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.

“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”

“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”

“We make a good team.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.

“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”

“A super hot, super funny team.”

You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.

He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.

The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.

A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.

“I’ll walk you to your room?”

“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.

“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.

He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.

Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.”

He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”

“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”

You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.

It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.

Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.

Well, fuck.

You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.

Until now.

Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.

You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.

You’re certainly not laughing.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Evan?”

He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”

Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”

“Of course.”

You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Anything.”

His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.

“Can you help me get my dress off?”

When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.

“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”

“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Can you help me or not?”

He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.

“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”

“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”

He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.

“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”

“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”

His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.

“Turn around, gorgeous.”

You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.

Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.

Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?

You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.”

He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

“Finally.”

Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.

“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”

“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”

It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.

Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.

“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.

“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”

You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.

“The?”

He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.

“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”

You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.

“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”

Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.

“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.

“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.

He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.

“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”

Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Better than ever.”

He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.

“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”

“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.

You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.

“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.

“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.

“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.

“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.

Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.

“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”

His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.

“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”

He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.

“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.

“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”

“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.

Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.

“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.

Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.

Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.

He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.

He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.

“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”

You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.

“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.

You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.

“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”

You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.

“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.

“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.

“That’s my girl.”

He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.

He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.

“Buck- I… I-”

“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”

You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.

“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”

Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.

You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.

He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.

“Hmm?”

“You called me Buck.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.

“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”

“I know. You thought you were making a point.”

“I was making a point.”

“Sure, honey. Sure.”

“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”

“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”

He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.

“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”

“Yeah… we can’t.”

You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.

“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”

“You did say forever, earlier.”

“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”

Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.

“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”

“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”

“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”

“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.

He could get used to this. You both could.

as always, reblogs are like gold to writers. if you enjoyed this, please reblog!! it’s invaluable <3

@peachysink @jjamjamie @alipap3 @spookyysinsanity @sophiah2253 @annaaaaanguyenn

[rafecameronssl4t]

Eyes on The Field || nfl player!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reader

Summary: Just Rafe not being able to keep his eyes off of you during the entire game.

Warnings: noneee

Word count: 1,194

A/n: its been waaayyy too long since I've written a dcc!reader fic

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Thunderstruck reverberated through every corner of AT&T Stadium, the iconic riff sending a jolt of energy that seemed to pulse in sync with the heartbeat of the crowd. The stadium was alive but it was you and the rest of the DCC who commanded the attention of every eye in the stands. You all moved across the field with a confidence that could only come from countless hours of practice.

The energy was palpable, the air thick with anticipation as you fell into formation, perfectly poised in your pristine blue and white uniform. A practiced smile curved your lips, every muscle in your body was tuned in. The routine was etched into your memory, each move precise, every step instinctive.

You’d performed this dance over a dozen times, and yet the adrenaline coursing through your veins made it feel brand new. The sound of the music thumped in your chest, and the cheers from the crowd seemed to amplify every movement you made.

And I was shakin' at the knees. Could I come again please?

On the sideline, Rafe jogged onto the field with his teammates, his helmet tucked under one arm. Amid the chaos of the game preparation, his eyes instinctively found you in the centre of the squad, your presence commanding his full attention. “Eyes off the cheerleaders, Cameron,” Chris teased, delivering a playful smack to his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Rafe muttered, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. He didn’t even try to deny it. His gaze then moved onto the big screen where you were the focus, captivated by the way you moved with such confidence and poise. As the routine neared its climax, the crowd roared in anticipation.

Then, the iconic jump split. Your body soared effortlessly through the air before landing flawlessly, and the stadium erupted in thunderous applause. As you gathered your pom-poms, you allowed yourself one fleeting moment to catch Rafe’s gaze from across the field. His eyes locked with yours, intense and searching. Still, ever the professional, you maintained your poised demeanor.

With a flick of your hair and a perfectly timed spin, you held your smile, turned, and strode off the field and onto the sidelines with your group as if nothing had happened, leaving Rafe watching after you, captivated as ever.

~

Rafe jogged off the field, his helmet tucked under one arm, sweat glistening on his face. The game was going well—they were up by two touchdowns—but his focus wasn’t entirely on the scoreboard. As he reached the sideline, his eyes instinctively found you again. You had just finished a routine and were taking a quick water break, trying to catch your breath.

When you noticed Rafe staring, you raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him. He didn’t look away. Typical. Shaking your head, you turned back to chat with the others, refusing to feed his ego any more than necessary. A few minutes later, you spotted him again. This time, he was walking over with a group of his teammates toward the water station.

They were laughing and jostling each other, but Rafe veered slightly to the side, positioning himself furthest from the group—right next to where you stood. You didn’t look at him at first, your gaze fixed on the field as you absentmindedly adjusted your uniform. You felt him stop beside you, the air between you charged, his presence impossible to ignore.

"You know, there’s a game happening," you teased without turning to him, keeping your tone light but teasing. You didn’t dare make eye contact, aware of the curious glances from both his teammates and your squad. Rafe didn’t seem to care. “Is there?” he replied smoothly, his tone playful but his gaze piercing as it trailed over you. “Because all I’ve been watching is you.”

You let out a small snort, finally glancing at him, unable to help yourself. His bluntness was infuriating and, admittedly, a little thrilling. “You’re going to get in trouble if Coach sees you over here flirting,” you said, your voice quieter now, but there was a teasing lilt in your words. Rafe smirked, crossing his arms as if the idea amused him.

“Let him. You’ve got me so distracted, I’m surprised I haven’t dropped a pass yet.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Turning your attention back to the field, you checked the clock, noting how little time you had left before the next routine. “Maybe I should stop performing,” you said casually. “Can’t have the star receiver losing focus.”

Rafe chuckled softly, his voice dipping just enough for only you to hear. “Don’t you dare. Best part of game day.” His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you let yourself look at him. Really look at him. The teasing glint in his eyes, the way his grin softened just for you—it was hard not to feel flustered under his gaze.

But before you could respond, the music started up again, signaling it was time for you to return to the field. You turned away, a small smile playing on your lips as you joined the formation. As the cheerleaders moved into position, you could still feel his eyes on you.

“Focus, Cameron,” you heard one of his teammates shout from a distance. You hid a smirk as you got into formation. If Rafe was distracted, that was his problem. You had a routine to nail, and he’d just have to wait.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Nightmare ships  

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Most terrifying ship I ever seen?”

Mordray repeated the question as he took a thoughtful bite of his xala and pondered the question.

“I’d have to say a Hive Node ship.”

Lithinio scoffed. “When the seven hells have you ever seen a Node ship?”

“I watched a documentary on it just last rotation.” Mordray countered rather defensively. “And having watched it I have to say I’m glad I never saw one in person since they eat entire ships whole.”

Ninten sighed and rubbed the ridges of his face. “Let me change the question then to “What is the most terrifying ship you have ever seen IN PERSON.””

Mordary took another bite as he took in the updated question while Lithinio stepped in with their own answer.

“I once saw a Dru Hunter Class while part of a convoy escort mission.” He took a sip of his drink and ran his hands through the air as if tracing the vessel.

“From bow to stern it was covered in spikes and upon each spike was a corpse. It was like a ship of the dead come to collect its toll of the living.”

“I heard the stories about those.” Ninten nodded. “Doesn’t matter if you were a victim, an enemy, or just some bad luck bastard in the wrong place at the wrong time; they’d spike you just the same. Where’d you see it?”

“The Dinar Campaign,” Lithinio replied, “they couldn’t beat our warriors on the ground so they’d send out small raiding space parties to hammer the transports and supply ships before ever reaching their worlds.”

“Lost a lot of good lads that war.”

The trio of crewmen turned to see the speaker at the table opposite them had turned around. They wore the uniform of an engineer but had several markings of honorary navy marine, honorary gunner, and even one for honorary helmsman. This could be none other than the legendary Midar Nus, the most famous crewman on the ship.

“Apologies for intruding,” Midar said sheepishly, “I was overhearing your conversation and it drew up some memories.”

‘You are more than welcome to join us sir.” Ninten said as his two comrades nodded and made room at their table for Midar to join. He smiled and took the offer, changing tables and nestling himself down in the now free space.

“No need for that protocol with me lad,” Midar spoke with a wintery grin as he eyed Ninten, “especially since you technically outrank me.”

“Experience counts for more than bars, sir.” Ninten replied without thinking.

Midar was taken aback by the boldness and for a moment Ninten thought he had overstepped himself. Instead, Midar let out a deep booming laugh and patted him on the back as Lithinio and Mordray let out a sigh of relief.

“We could have used a dozen more of you during that scuffle with the Dru; would have saved a lot of my friends.”

Ninten took the compliment and tried to redirect the conversation before he said something to ruin his now good standing with a living legend.

“What about you then? What’s the scariest ship you’ve ever seen?”

The trio listened in half expecting him to say something heroic like “I’ve never seen a ship worth being afraid of” or “I once thought I saw one, but it was really my mate’s in-law”. Instead, the old sailor replied without even pausing to think.

“The ones who piloted them don’t have a name for it officially; only a name they had given to them by a creature of their dark past.”

“Whose they?” Mordray asked as Lithinio smacked him for interrupting the answer.

“Humans crewed the things, though it’s been a thankful many years since I last encountered one of those damnable vessels.”

He leaned in close and slowly cast a frightful gaze across the three of his listeners.

“They called them “Frankenstein” ships.”

None of the three said a thing, partly because none of the three had any idea what that word meant. Midar saw this and further explained.

“There’s a story amongst humans about a human named “Dr. Victor Frankenstein”, and they were so focused on circumventing death itself that they began performing horrific experiments on the living and the dead.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ninten asked “How can you perform horrific experiments if the subject is dead?”

Midar shrugged. “Story goes the mad doctor took the chopped up pieces of several dead humans, sewed them together, and then brought the creature to life.” 

“Putting aside the continued depraved and discouraging nature of humanity,” Lithinio chimed in, “what does this have to do with their ship design?”

“Because,” Midar continued, “like their mad doctor humans have an infuriating habit carving up the parts from other ships and adding those parts to their own.”

He leaned back into his chair as he recounted his first experience. “The first time I found myself up against one of those ships was in the Delta Cluster. We just fought of a border incursion and were tasked with protecting the wreckage while we sifted for survivors.”

“We just finish a patrol when we got a strange energy signature return near the edge of the wreckage. So we went to investigate it and there we found a human ship the size of a frigate slowly drifting through the debris field using a variety of arms to grab bits and pieces of ships.”

“The captain ordered a scan of the ship and the returns were a confusing mishmash of technological parts.”

“A Thorian engine block, a Juriet power core, a Nexium stabilizer…” he said listing out a surprisingly long list of ship parts from different species.

“None of those parts are designed to work with other tech.” Mordray commented. He would know as he was part of the engineering crew and well trained in ship maintenance. “The Juriet power core alone would generate far too much power for a ship that size; dangerously so much that using it could trigger a system overload.”

Midar nodded at the crewman’s insight. “Indeed, were it not for the majority of that power also going towards a Feren Gel class shield system. We found that out when we tried to disable their engines and our volley bounced off the thing like oil on water.”

Lithinio let out a whistle in awe while Midar continued.

“After that the thing began to slowly turn to make a run out of system so we drove in hard ready to grab it with our tractor beams. We were just about to make it when a panel at the rear of the ship opened up and a turret protruded out of it.”

“One shot.” Midar remarked as he held up a single taloned finger. “It took one shot at us and shattered our shield, blew out our engines, and triggered a cascading system overload that left us dead in space as they plowed out of system and made a jump.”

Ninten grumbled as he pondered Midar’s words. “Must’ve been a Telkar railgun. It’d run the entire length of a frigate ship, but it’d pack enough of a punch to deal that kinda damage; but the recoil alone would’ve split a ship that size in half.”

“Which we later found out was counter acted by a Wu’l gravity displacement field. They jacked it to max just as the railgun would fire and the counter action would cancel out the recoil.”

“I’m still confused why these things are so scary to you?” Mordray asked with a hint of a mocking tone. “They sound like garbage barges held together with scraps.”

Midar took on an offended expression and straightened up. “They’re terrifying because you never know what you are going up against. Frigate size packing battleship class weaponry, a patrol craft that can launch mini black holes, a cruiser that interwove nanomachine and organic materials that could repair any damage; every and anything was on the table!”

The ships seemed beyond reason and logic but the enthusiasm with which he spoke there was some truth to each description.

Ninten took a sip from his drink and nodded in appreciation. “Only fitting for the species that defies existence to have ships that actively defy the laws of technology.”  

[bearforcecaptions]

It started, like it always did, with the flicker of the lights and a low hum that seemed to come from deep within the walls. I’d been here long enough to know that sound—the pulse that heralded the arrival of fresh faces. I wasn’t sure how many I’d seen come and go by now, but I’d learned to recognize that shifting vibration in the air, the way the gym seemed to breathe in new people, new victims, and eventually, exhale them as someone else entirely.

I was sitting by the dumbbells, idly polishing off another set of curls I didn’t really need to be doing anymore, when the door swung open, and in they came. Two of them, both looking like they’d walked through the wrong door at the wrong time.

The first guy was scrawny, mousy even—brown hair, glasses slipping down his nose, a baggy sweater that swallowed his frame. He looked like he should be sitting in front of a computer, not stepping into a gym full of iron and sweat. The other guy was taller but equally unimpressive—shoulders hunched, face pale, with a thin mustache that seemed like an afterthought. They couldn’t have been more out of place if they’d tried.

And they looked as bewildered as I’d felt the first time I’d walked in here.

“Uh… hello?” The shorter one’s voice wobbled, and he gave the tall guy a nervous glance. They were strangers, that much was obvious. They didn’t even acknowledge each other beyond the initial glance, both of them clearly too preoccupied with their surroundings to question why they’d ended up here together.

I watched them, letting the silence stretch, because I knew what would happen. It was always the same.

“Hey, are you—do you work here?” the tall one asked, finally noticing me. His voice was a little steadier, though he was doing a terrible job hiding his panic.

I shook my head. “Nope. Just been here a while.” I gave them a once-over, smirking a little. “Let me guess… you two didn’t mean to end up here, did you?”

The short guy swallowed, eyes darting to the mirrors that stretched endlessly around us. “N-no, I was just, uh, walking out of the library and… then I was here. I didn’t—” He cut off, glancing at his companion.

“Same,” the tall guy muttered, his voice tinged with an edge of irritation. “I was leaving my apartment, and then… this.” He gestured at the gym, clearly baffled.

“Names?” I asked, leaning back and crossing my arms, the familiar weight of my own bulk a comfort.

“Ben,” the short one said, his voice a little squeaky. “I, uh, I don’t belong here. I don’t even like gyms.”

“Kyle,” the other one said shortly, fidgeting with his phone. “This place has gotta have a way out. Right?”

I almost laughed. “Good luck with that. You can try every door, every window—it all leads right back here. I’ve seen dozens try, but…” I shrugged. “You get used to it. Or you work out. It’s about all there is to do.”

Kyle’s mouth twisted, annoyed. “What do you mean, ‘get used to it’? We’re stuck here?”

“Looks that way,” I said. “But hey, I’m sure you’ll find your way out if you keep at it.” It was always the same—let them struggle, watch them slowly surrender to the gym’s rhythm, see them lose themselves, inch by inch.

And, as expected, they did. They tried every door, every possible exit, each attempt leading them back to the gym. They tried using their phones, but of course, the batteries died quickly, and there was no signal anyway. Hours passed—though time was slippery here, never quite settling. They wandered and fumed until, finally, I saw them gravitate back toward the equipment, eyeing it like a last resort.

“Nothing else to do,” I said, smirking. “Might as well use what’s here.”

Kyle glared at me but sat down on a bench press, placing his hands on the bar with the unsure grip of someone who’d never really lifted before. Ben was more hesitant, looking around with a lost, almost pleading expression before finally moving over to the dumbbells.

At first, their workouts were awkward, tentative. Neither of them had any real technique, and I could tell from their shaky form that they hadn’t set foot in a gym in years, if ever. But slowly, they fell into a rhythm, each rep easing the tension from their faces, each lift dulling the spark of panic in their eyes.

The changes started small, as they always did. After some time—hours, days, who could tell—Ben’s clothes began to shift. His baggy sweater started clinging to his frame, as though the fabric itself had decided to tighten. His arms, once scrawny, began to fill out, biceps firming, shoulders rounding under the now-stretched material. His glasses slipped off his nose one day, forgotten entirely, his vision sharper, clearer than it had ever been.

Kyle, meanwhile, seemed to grow taller, his posture shifting. His thin arms started to bulk up, each curl thickening his biceps, veins beginning to rise to the surface. I could see his hands flexing around the weights with more confidence, a focus that was edging into something else, something more intense.

One day, Ben was in the middle of a particularly heavy set of deadlifts when he paused, shirtless, sweat rolling down his now-muscular frame. I blinked, realizing that his baggy clothes were gone entirely, replaced by striped workout pants that clung to his legs, each squat revealing powerful thighs straining against the fabric. Around his neck, a thick silver chain gleamed, catching the light. He hadn’t had it before, I was sure of it, but it was there now, heavy and solid against his chest, as if it had always been.

Their voices had started changing too. Ben’s soft, slightly nasal tone had dropped an octave, his speech slower, more deliberate. And Kyle—Kyle’s words had taken on a thicker edge, a hint of something foreign, like he was translating from a language he couldn’t remember ever learning.

They still didn’t talk much to me, but when they did, it was strained, their English slipping. “Bro, give… give weight,” Ben would say, frowning as he searched for the words. I watched, a strange feeling twisting in my chest, as he began to look less and less like Ben, and more like someone else entirely. His face was fuller, his jaw sharper, a shadow of stubble darkening his cheeks. The softness of his expression was gone, replaced by something hard, a smirk that looked alien on his once-innocent face.

And Kyle… his posture was different, arrogant almost, his shoulders broad, his chest thick and powerful. His thin mustache had grown into a rugged stubble, framing his mouth with a sharpness that hadn’t been there before. His hair was shorter now, neater, and there was a glint in his eye, a confidence that hadn’t been there when he’d first walked in.

Their workouts became more intense, their bodies transforming faster. The new clothes clung to them, hugging every inch of their muscular frames. Ben’s bare chest gleamed with sweat, his thick arms flexing as he adjusted the bar, his lips moving as he muttered something low, almost guttural. “Bassem… weight…” he called, voice deep, accented. He didn’t even seem to realize he’d stopped calling himself Ben.

Kyle—now calling himself Kareem—grinned, nodding as he handed over the barbell, a sense of brotherhood, of shared purpose in his eyes. They had become each other’s world, barely noticing anyone else in the gym, certainly not me.

I tried to talk to them one day, hoping to catch some glimpse of the men they’d once been. “Kyle—Ben,” I said, using their old names. “You don’t… remember anything, do you?”

They looked at me, confusion flickering across their faces. I tried again. “Ben? Kyle?”

But they only glanced at each other, murmuring in Arabic, the syllables sharp and fluid, familiar to them but incomprehensible to me. “Bassem, shouf…” Kareem said, grinning as he motioned to the weights, a cocky glint in his eye. They both laughed, low and rough, as if they shared some private joke. Whatever English they’d once known was gone, slipping away like sand through fingers. They were different now—men who owned the space around them, who looked at the gym like it was their kingdom.

Their arrogance grew too, an alpha confidence that radiated from them. They strutted through the gym like they owned it, chests out, heads high, each step powerful and self-assured. The last traces of who they’d once been were gone, replaced by the men they’d become—Bassem and Kareem, powerful, proud, and utterly transformed.

The day the lights flickered in that familiar rhythm, they paused, exchanging a glance. Their bodies tensed, and without a word, they strode to the door, side by side, muscles rippling, their stubbled faces set in matching smirks. Bassem slapped a hand on Kareem’s back, muttering something in Arabic that made them both laugh, the sound low and rough, filled with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

They walked out, swaggering, their steps heavy with purpose, never once looking back.

I watched them go, feeling that familiar pang of loss, of frustration. It was always the same—they came in, fought, transformed, and left, and I was left behind, the only one who remembered who they used to be. The gym’s hum settled back into silence, satisfied, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before it found someone else. Someone else to mold, to reshape, to consume.

And I would be here to watch it all over again.

[starfruitii]

cws & notes. reader is kind of insecure. akaashi keiji x gn!reader. established relationship. slight angst. 600+ words. idk where this came from but enjoy?

“Do you think you’ll get sick of me, one day?”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. In your head, it sounded like a perfectly sound question, but with the way Keiji is looking at you, it’s clear he doesn’t agree. 

“I beg your pardon, dear?” His voice is painfully soft, brows furrowing in concern as he places his book down on the coffee table. Under his gentle gaze, you feel stripped bare, exposed in all your insecurity. You should have swallowed the question down, as sharp as it felt in your throat, anything to avoid the way he’s staring at you now.

“Nevermind,” You say quickly, snatching the TV remote from the table, and busying yourself with choosing a show. The screen flicks between channels, flashing brightly coloured lights across your faces. “That was a dumb question. I’m sorry, just forget it.”

“My love,” Keiji reached out a hand, lightly brushing the side of your face. With a gentle, but firm grip, he grasped your chin and tilted your head to the side to face him. “[Name]. Why are you asking me that?” 

“No reason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to laugh it off, but you can only choke out a quiet sob. Somehow, somewhere between asking the question and now, your eyes started burning, glazing over with unshed tears.

Damn. He’s looking even more concerned now. Why couldn’t you have just kept it to yourself, tucking those doubts far into the dusty corners of your head, where his ears would never reach them?

“Hey,” Keiji brushed his thumb under your eyes, wiping away a stray tear that falls. “You’re getting me worried now. Are you okay? What happened?”

There was a long pause, and something inside you cracks. You let out a sniffle, then a gasp, then the last piece of your self-control breaks, in a mess of tears and snot. Keiji’s face crumples, and he tugs you forward into his chest, rubbing your back soothingly as you continue to cry. 

“Did I do something?” He presses. “Am I not treating you the way you want to be treated? I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but please tell me what I did–”

“No!” You quickly say, regaining your composure slightly. He’s never done anything, never hurt you, intentionally, or unintentionally, never said the wrong words, never made you feel unloved. That was the problem. Because nothing gold shines forever, and every good thing comes to an end. You were just waiting for the end, the moment he decides he is done with your self-consciousness, your bad habits, your looks. 

There is always a reason for someone to leave; you’ve learnt that the hard way. 

“I-I don’t know,” You mumble, tracing your nail against the couch. “I just–I guess, most people do. Get sick of me, that is. And I d-don’t wanna lose you too.”

Keiji was silent for a moment, and for a moment you worry that you've ruined things. The thought lingers in your mind for only a second, because a second later there are half-a-dozen kisses being pressed to the top of your head.

“I love you,” Keiji whispers between each peck. “I love you, so, so much. I love you, and I love you, and I will say it as many times as it takes you to believe it.”

The feeling of his breath tickles your skin, making you laugh weakly.

“I'm never going to get sick of you,” He continues. “I adore you, and every part of you. No matter what happens, I'm never leaving. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper back.

Keiji kisses your cheek. “Good. Now, why don't you put on a movie for us to watch?”

[neithoftheveil]

Neith’s TGCF Fic Recs:

I’ve never made a rec list before, but for Christmas, I wanted to share some (not all—by god, we’d be here forever) of the fics saved to my kindle, some of my bookmarks, and some of my friends’ works (with overlap between those categories).

In no particular order:

tell you every day by scrapimmortal

Adorable amnesia Wulian oneshot that makes me smile.

melt (i’d tell them; put me back in it) by scrapimmortal

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve read this, I would have many dollars; perfection.

The flap of a butterfly’s wing by Ameji

Really enjoyed the political and personal drama in this one. A fun, exciting read that got me thinking about how to approach my own fics.

Pig in the Garden by illuminatingsceadugunga

I love FengQing’s heads exploding over hualian being married pre-third ascension; it’s delightful—very fun fic!

The Supplicant by ardenrabbit

The anticipation in chapter 1 was literally killing me; so excited to see more!

Land of the Callous by starvingwritist

A very fun, well-constructed truth serum Xianle quartet fic; Hualian are perfect for each other, truly. Couldn’t wait to see what would go wrong (and right)!

Heaven is Overwhelming by crispytaco

I love selective mutism fics; this one is very sweet! Comfort read.

there’s no rush by miska_za

Very sweet marathon sex; another comfort read.

quiet like stains by haysel

This soulmate AU has permanently altered my brain. It’s my favorite modern AU.

and the rain won’t make any difference by haysel

The atmosphere and the emotion? Out of this world. Love at first sight that takes your breath away. So sweet.

Your Courage, Your Despair by boomchick

I think about this fic at least once a week. Hualian hurt/comfort is my favorite thing.

‘Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

Cannot watch the s2 opening of the donghua without getting nostalgia for this fic. Love the OCs. Love the characterization of XL. I would live in this fic if I could.

The Road I Walked Alone by aewea

Gives me literal chills every time (love it). What would happen if the play at the Mid-Autumn Banquet was actually the 100 swords scene.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by paidsubscription

Couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. Love this author’s AUs. Always so well thought out. And the “ghost citizens” are amazingly written!

The southern guide to a happy marriage by illuminate

The way this author writes Mu Qing makes me feral. FengQing get married before Xie Lian ascends a third time. It’s horny. It’s fun.

I can feel your halo by illuminate

Probably my favorite fengqing fanfic; I’ve read it a dozen times! Mu Qing’s spiritual powers are stolen, and he takes full advantage of them being gone to fulfill some long-buried desires.

common love isn’t for us by nobirdstofly

A really fun, dynamic piece that plays with FengQing’s deputy disguises. Hot too!

I Want to Ki** You by tyelperintal

I love every interaction Xie Lian and Mu Qing have in this piece, especially when XL gives way too many details about his sex life in order to help MQ navigate his desire for FX.

Wu Ming Loving Hours by featherpoet

A cute and inventive what-if. A canon divergence from Wuming’s death.

When I Was Older by corduroyserpent

An emotional time travel fic I love. Read it twice. Plan to reread soon!

Nameless Longing by corduroyserpent

A follow-up to the above fic; the “good boy” lives rent free in my brain. A roleplay Wulian fic with a twist ending.

Against All Odds by yuushoku

A really sweet royalty AU where Hua Cheng has to pass three trials to wed Xie Lian. Comfort read.

bring a light by uraa

A cute wangxian/hualian crossover!

charcoal daydreams by beesinspades

One of the first fics I read for this fandom! The first tgcf fic I ever downloaded! Artist HC runs into his old crush when XL applies to be his model.

steady love (in a place we know) by beesinspades

Hurts my heart but in a good way; it’s like missing someone who’s right in front of you. Hualian go on a road trip.

Is he, you know, a follower of Ju Yang? by airawyn

Very cute! Love the fengqing dynamic and banter!

Your Touch Means Everything to Me by fayleen

Love the tension in this one! A canon-divergent first kiss after the Banyue arc.

The State of You by peppaspray

Hot and sweet! Hua Cheng trying to seduce his husband in different forms.

to be seen by blessinglanterns

An interesting look at Hua Cheng coming back from being dispersed on Tonglu. Very sweet.

If you love me for me by fullmetalpotterhead

A really adorable royalty AU where Hua Cheng needs to marry Xie Lian for political reasons but quickly falls in love with him after he disguises himself in order to meet XL before their wedding.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Neva Play - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Neva Play - Meghan Thee Stallion

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff with hints of angst - and a lot of sass (thanks anon who requested this one, it was perfect)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

I expected the usual whispers when I stepped into the media pen. I’ve been around long enough to know how it goes when things don’t go Lewis’s way.

But this time, the way they were talking, like the man hadn’t just won races less than six months ago—it had got to me.

“Maybe he’s lost it. Can’t keep up with the young ones anymore.”

One journalist snorted behind me, speaking loud enough that it was clearly meant to be overheard. I pretended not to listen, but I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched.

He’d barely made it two laps today before the car gave out, but they were acting like it was all on him. As if it wasn’t obvious that the supposed updates were off—especially considering his teammate had spun out in the same damn place in quali.

These people knew the car was at fault, knew the team had struggled all weekend, hell the past 5 races at least, but still, they chose to spin the narrative.

Then there were the Ferrari fans—louder than ever, celebrating their 1-2 finish as if that somehow proved Lewis wouldn’t be good enough for a seat anymore.

One of the older reporters made some comment about “when it’s time to hang up the helmet,” and I had to physically restrain myself from whipping around to confront him. It was all I could do honestly to keep a straight face through my interviews, nodding politely, smiling like I didn’t want to snap back at every smug comment.

By the time I wrapped up for the day, I had enough frustration boiling under the surface to fuel a dozen Instagram stories. But I kept it to one. Just enough to remind people who they were talking about.

And as I walked into Lewis’s hotel suite, the laughter hit me before anything else in the hall. I could hear the guys in the living area, probably already half a bottle deep into their pre-party drinks.

I took a second to breathe, let the tension roll off my shoulders. I didn’t need to bring that frustration in here.

When I finally stepped inside, I saw Miles perched on the arm of a chair, waving a drink around as he gestured wildly in conversation with the others. He caught sight of me the moment I entered, and that mischievous grin immediately spread across his face.

“Look who finally showed up!” he called, dramatically waving his arms as if I’d been missing for hours. “Your man’s honor here needs some more defending. That Instagram story? Had me weirded out.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched up in a grin. “Just correcting a few people.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” He laughed, standing up to give me a little side hug as I tossed my jacket onto the nearest chair. “I could’ve sworn you were about to hunt some of these journalists down in that paddock. Had me thinking you were ready to throw hands.”

“Who says I wasn’t?” I teased, shaking my head as I stepped further into the room.

Miles’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Everyone hear that? She doesn’t play about her man.”

The room erupted into playful “ooohs” and knowing glances, but I barely paid them any mind. I was too focused on Lewis, who had been standing by the window, adjusting his watch.

He glanced up, catching my eye, and I could tell by the way his mouth twitched that he was holding back a smile. He shook his head, clearly amused.

“You really don’t have to do that” he said, his voice calm, but there was a warmth in there. “I’m used to that bs.”

Of course he was. Lewis was the king of shrugging off comments that would crush lesser men.

But me? I wasn’t about to let people drag his name without at least saying something.

I tilted my head, my arms crossing in front of me. “I’mma keep doing it” I said, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Before anyone could chime in with another quip, I gave the room a little wave. “Alright, I’m going to get ready. Try not to burn the place down in the meanwhile.”

As I headed for the bedroom, I could still hear Miles behind me. “If I were you Lewis, I’d be feeling pretty damn lucky. You’ve got yourself a personal bodyguard.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath. Miles’s brand of teasing always hit just the right note. And I wasn’t mad about it. Hell, it felt good to have someone see how much I cared, even if they were poking fun at me for it.

Once in the bedroom, I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting the quiet wrap around me. The adrenaline from earlier was starting to fade, and I could feel the edges of fatigue creeping in

I had just unzipped my jeans when I heard the door creak open behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. I could feel his presence fill the room before he even spoke.

Lewis stepped in, closing the door softly behind him, and I caught his reflection in the mirror as he approached. His eyes were on me, intense as ever, no matter how many times I’d seen them.

I started to turn around, but before I could, his hands found my waist, pulling me gently but firmly against him. His breath was warm against my neck, and his lips brushed the skin there.

“Protectiveness looks good on you” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.

I tilted my head, catching his eyes in the mirror, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “Someone’s got to keep those idiots in line” I teased, my voice light despite the tension in the air between us.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin. “And that someone has to be you?”

I turned in his arms, resting my hands against his chest, my fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “Duh” I said, my tone soft but teasing. “You’ve got enough to deal with that thing you call a car. Let me handle these poor excuses of journalists.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to fight these battles for me, you know. That is also your workplace.”

I sighed, leaning into him slightly, my head resting against his shoulder. “I want to” I admitted. “I’m not going to sit back and let people talk. Not when it comes to you.”

He pulled back just enough to tilt my chin up, making me meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, but there was a warmth in them that made my heart melt a little. “They’re lucky you’re not exclusive to f1”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him. “Oh, I know. But you are lucky I’m around enough to set people straight.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine laugh that made me smile in return. “Lucky, huh?”

“Very” I said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “Now, are you going to let me finish getting ready, or are you planning to keep me here?”

He smirked, his hands still resting on my waist. “Now that you mention it…”

I gave him a playful shove, rolling my eyes. “Out. You’re distracting me.”

He stepped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright. I’ll go. But don’t take too long, okay?”

“I’ll be out in fifteen, just need a shower.” I promised, watching him as he backed toward the door, still grinning at me like he had some secret he wasn’t telling me.

Just before he slipped out of the room, he paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. “For the record” he said, his voice soft but serious, “I appreciate what you did today.”

I met his eyes, my heart swelling just a little at the sincerity in his voice. And just as Lewis lingered there in the doorway, Miles’s voice carried through the suite, loud and as ever.

“Hey, Lewis! Let her go get ready, man. She’s not running away, you know?”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face as Lewis rolled his eyes. He gave a little shake of his head before turning back to me, his hand still resting on the doorframe.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he said, his voice playful.

I stepped closer, smirking up at him. “Surely not if you keep stalling me.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss my lips. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you go... for now.”

I laughed softly, giving him a gentle nudge. “Good idea.”

Lewis flashed me one last grin as he finally stepped back. As he disappeared down the hall, Miles’s voice echoed again, this time with a laugh. “See? Told you, she’s not going anywhere.”

I smiled to myself, shaking my head as I went back to finish getting ready, my heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

No matter what anyone said, I knew exactly who I was. And so did he.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[cece693]

hi! loved your pjo first they're amazing. I was wondering if I can request a headcannon of percy x son of aphrodite male reader? probably about how percy wants to ask them out and then them dating. thank you!

Fountain of Love (Percy Jackson x Son of Aphrodite)

Thanks for the request :) It's a little short, but I hope you enjoy it!

tags: nervous Percy, asking out, dating, son of Aphrodite is not only a pretty face but good with a sword, oblivious reader, puppy love

From the first moment Percy stepped foot into Camp Half-Blood, he knew your name—M/N, son of Aphrodite. You were somewhat of a legend at camp, not just for being devastatingly handsome, but also for your skill with a sword.

But you were oblivious as fuck. Even more so than Percy himself, which said a lot. No matter how many heads you turned as you passed by, or how many gifts appeared outside your cabin, you remained unaware of the effect you had on others. For you, the attention never seemed more than friendly admiration, nothing deeper.

Percy, however, was different. From the moment he first spent time with you, sitting by the lake, talking about sword techniques, and exchanging stories of battle until the dinner horn blew, he knew one thing—you were the one. It wasn’t just about how incredible you looked, it was how easy it felt to be around you, the way your smile softened his nerves.

But Percy wasn’t alone in his feelings. Dozens of campers—some Apollo kids, others from various cabins—were also vying for your attention, and Percy knew he wasn’t the only one wanting to ask you out.

Over time, he noticed the competition intensify. A couple of campers, Ares kids, constantly tried to one-up him during sword training, cracking jokes about him in your presence, trying to win your favor. Even the children of Hermes, known for their mischievous pranks, tried to outshine Percy in their own crafty ways. It was like everyone was fighting for their chance to stand out, hoping to catch your eye.

Percy fought through the jealousy and frustration, determined to find the perfect moment to finally ask you out. But every time he gathered his courage, something interrupted him—a monster drill, a sparring match, or another camper cutting him off.

One day, as Percy finally approached you by the campfire, an Ares kid—who clearly had the same idea—stepped in and asked you if you wanted to hang out. Percy clenched his jaw, stepping back in defeat, watching the moment slip away again.

Little did he know, you liked him back. You always had. His easy smile, his sense of humor, the way he seemed so sincere around you—it all made you fall for him in ways you hadn’t expected. But since Percy hadn’t made a move, you assumed maybe he wasn’t interested.

Days passed, and finally, Percy couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t wait for the perfect moment because every moment with you was already perfect. So, after a long training session, where the two of you fought side by side during a particularly difficult capture-the-flag game, Percy found the nerve.

The two of you were covered in dirt and sweat, but it didn’t matter. As you both sat by the lake, cooling off, Percy finally turned to you and blurted it out, “I like you. A lot. And, um, would you maybe want to go out with me? Like, officially?”

You blinked, a bit stunned by his sudden confession, but then you laughed, a soft sound that sent Percy’s heart racing. “I like you too, Percy. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he was speechless. You? Liked him back? He couldn’t believe it.

From that day forward, the two of you were inseparable, and when you became boyfriends, everyone in camp knew it. Percy’s friends teased him relentlessly, but nothing would wipe the dopey grin off his face whenver your name was mentioned.

You and Percy balanced each other perfectly—his brave heart and your calm confidence were an unbeatable pair.

But dating at Camp Half-Blood wasn’t without its challenges. There were moments when Percy’s duties as a hero pulled him away, leaving you to worry. You’d send messages through Iris, waiting anxiously for his return, and there were times when he came back battered from battles that left your heart aching. The other demigods, those who had once vied for your attention, sometimes stirred up trouble out of jealousy, testing the strength of your relationship with snide remarks and rumors.

Still, the two of you always found ways to push through. When Percy felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, you were there to remind him he didn’t have to carry it alone. You comforted him when nightmares from the Titan War resurfaced, holding his hand and promising that, together, you could face anything.

And when your own insecurities came up—doubts about whether Percy could love someone like you, despite the constant attention you received—he reassured you that you were more than enough.

“I chose you,” Percy would say, with that earnest smile that made everything feel okay. “And I’d choose you over and over again.”

No matter what challenges arose—whether it was monsters, the gods’ interference, or the complications of being demigods—the bond you shared only grew stronger. And eventually, when the Great War ended, Percy would drop on one knee and ask you to marry him :)

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

A Different Kind of High

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: use of marijuana, smut, p in v, unprotected, slight fingering, lose of virginity, slight innocence kink? lmk if there’s any others!!!

summary: you died a virgin, but that doesn’t mean you need to be one as a ghost…

word count: 1.9k

~~~

“I stole some weed from the newbies, you want some?” Tate asks as he hops up on what used to be your bed.

You’ve been dead for only a few months, living in the imfamous Murder House for a year prior. It was strange being dead, seeing people pass by on the street everyday knowing that’ll never be you again. You suppose this was what you deserved, after all you committed suicide. But never during your life did you think this was what being dead would be like. Trapped in a house with a dozen other ghosts for eternity.

Tate has been your friend since before you died, of course you didn’t know he was a ghost until you joined him on the other side. He’s charming, very down to Earth. You really don’t know much about him, even now. You’ve heard whispers about him being crazy, and you believe it. Sometimes through the night you hear his screams, his murderous laughter. It doesn’t bother you though. You’re already dead, what’s the worst he could do?

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reply.

He chuckles. “Are you serious?”

You turn red. “You saw my parents, they never let me do anything. When I used to go out they’d make me be back by nine. Even on weekends. I always figured they’d know so I didn’t bother.”

“At least tell me you’ve drank.” You shake your head, a small laugh escaping at the face Tate makes. “Have you done anything?”

“I kissed a boy when I was twelve,” you answer honestly.

“Was that your only kiss?”

“Yeah…” You mumble.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re this innocent, I always thought girls with strict parents did the dirtiest things,” he replies. He grabs the baggie of weed out of his pocket and holds it up. “You’re going to try this, and you’re going to love it.”

You don’t object, and instead watch as Tate begins to role a joint. He does it effortlessly, he’s done it many times before. You know from previous conversations that he’s done drugs much stronger than weed, the main one being cocaine. You had asked him how it felt to do it, to be alive and on a drug so strong. He told you it felt like he needed to run a mile while he was high. He also made you promise to do it with him one day.

When he finishes rolling the joint he offers it to you. “You want the first hit?”

“Fuck it, yeah,” you say.

He gives you a smile that makes butterflies swirl in your stomach. Though the two of you are only friends, you can’t deny how attractive Tate is. Even though everythings only been platonic, sometimes with certain looks and phrases, he makes you feel some special type of way.

You take the joint inbetween your lips, your eyes locked on Tate. He grabs a lighter and lifts it to the other end of the joint.

“I’d usually say take a small hit, but usually it takes a little more to get us high so take as much as you think is necessary,” he explains before lighting the end.

You inhale deeply, the smoke it hot and you know if you were alive it would burn your lungs completely. Thankfully though, it only stings a little. After a few seconds Tate takes it from your lips and you exhale slowly, watching as he repeats your actions. You lean back against the pillows, you feel a little something.

“How long does it usually take to get high?” You ask.

“I dunno a few minutes I guess, why? Do you feel it?”

Your head feels light and the room looks brighter. “I think so, I feel… lighter.”

“Oh yeah, you’re high,” he replies with a laugh.

He lays beside you on the bed, both of you staring at the ceiling in silence. You hear him take a few more puffs of the joint, wondering how he does’t feel anything yet. Your whole body feels electrified, every muscle alive and thriving. You almost feel like how you did before you died, almost. It makes you smile.

“Why did I never try this before…” you mumble, a small laugh leaving your lips. “Fuck I feel good.”

“I know right, it’s pretty great.”

You turn your head and stare at him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He meets your gaze. “Of course.”

You don’t know where the sudden burst of honesty comes from. Usually, you’re embarrassed to talk about anything you did or more specifically didn’t do in your life. However, as you stare into Tate’s dark eyes you feel the urge to tell him every little detail about you.

“I died a virgin,” you whisper. “Like I never even got fingered or anything.”

You stare at each other for another few seconds before you both burst out into laughter. You don’t know why it’s so funny, but it is. You feel amazing, like you’re on top of the world. But you also feel like every word that comes out of your mouth is hilarious.

“I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry,” you say as the laughter dies down. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, you aren’t stupid. I know a few other ghosts died virgins, like the nurses,” he replies, that stupid smirk on his face.

“God don’t say that!” You exclaim. “At least they chose to die virgins, I tried to hard to be fucked before I died but every time I started to become interested in someone my stupid parents ruined it.”

Tate props his head up on his hand so he’s now looking down at you. “Well on the brightside your parents are gone now so you can fuck anyone you want.”

“Yeah but the options aren’t exactly ideal. There’s really only Travis, but he’d definitely not be the best option for a first time,” you laugh.

“I’m here too you know.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“You know what I mean,” Tate answers, his voice quieter than before.

Your laughter stops at his words, and you meet his eyes once again. This time, you can sense something lingering behind his eyes, something you haven’t ever noticed before. You smile, trying to ease the tension that’s filled the room. He’s probably just messing with you. However, he doesn’t smile back at you, his expression stays the same.

You’re in disbelief. Is this real? Is your best friend really telling you he’d take your virginity? This can’t be real, you think. Maybe it’s just because of the weed, maybe it’s doing something to your head. You can’t deny the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of it though. Tate would be a good first. He’s experienced, but not with too many people. You find yourself suddenly imaging it, how it would feel, sharing that experience with someone you truly enjoy being around. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide.

“All right,” You say. You kick your shoes off without breaking eye contact. “Is it going to hurt?”

He smirks and follows your actions. “It usually does the first time.”

You smile and start undoing the buttons on your jeans. You know if you hadn’t taken that puff of the joint you’d be selfconcious getting undressed in front of Tate. He watches you carefully as you remove your pants, your shirt, even your bra. It’s silent, but not an awkward silence, more of a comforting silence. You only look away from him as you slowly pull your panties off and throw them into the newly formed pile of your clothes.

It’s your turn to watch now. Your eyes trail up and down Tate’s body as he slowly undresses. He’s so beautiful, his body is perfect. You can’t stop yourself from reaching over and running your fingertips over the toned muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes meet once again and you almost shiver at how full his eyes have become with lust.

Quickly, he leans his head down and connects your lips to his. The kiss is slow at first, like you’re treading the water. But as you start to understand how it works, you move your lips against his, following his motions. The soft gentle kiss becomes full of passion. You twirl your fingers in his soft blond curls, loving the way his breathing gets heavier as you do so.

He moves on top of you, hit body fitting between your legs swiftly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin feels like it needs to be touched. Tate rests one of his hands beside your head and the other begins to slide down your chest, your stomach, till it reaches the place it was searching for. You feel him smile into the kiss.

“So excited already…” he mumbles.

His fingers run between your folds, collecting the wetness that’s already begun to drip out of you. He circles them on your clit for a few minutes, making you moan from the new but amazing feeling. After that he slides his pointer finger down to your entrance.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you?” He chuckles. He begins to slowly push his finger inside you and you grab his free arm.

“Thank you for doing this,” you clarify.

“I like how innocent you are, but I can’t lie I’ve always dreamt of being the one to rip that innocence away,” he whispers.

Before you can reply he lowers his head to your neck and begins to leave sloppy kisses along your skin. You can’t believe this is really happening. Once his finger is fully inside you, he starts to thrust it in and out at a slow pace. You moan, your back arching off the matress. He continues this for a few minutes before adding a second, preparing you perfectly for what’s going to come next.

He kisses down your chest until he’s at your breasts. He sucks and licks your nipples, it feels amazing. You can’t take it any longer, you need him. You grab his chin and connect your lips. He kisses you harder than before, biting and sucking your tongue into his mouth. You love it. You can’t get enough of it.

“I’m ready Tate,” you say breathlessly as your lips part. “I want to do it.”

“All right.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you watch him position his hard dick on your entrance. He looks down at you, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. “If it hurts to bad just tell me and I’ll stop okay?”

You nod, and before you can say anything else he starts to move. It hurts, but not too bad. Tate kisses you as he does this, it makes the pain more bearable. You wrap one of your hands around his back, your nails slowly dragging across the skin of Tate’s back. He only kisses you harder. His thrusts are slow, but your thighs still clench around his hips.

After a few minutes he asks if he can go faster, you tell him yes. The pain slowly morphed into a small pleasure that you enjoy. You continue to claw at his back, even more as his pace inscreases. You’re out of breath, the only sounds in the room being your moans along with Tate’s heavy breathing. It’s pure bliss.

The end comes faster than you want, but you don’t mind. You love the way Tate whispers your name as he cums, and how strongly his dick pulses inside you. You hold him close after it’s over, his skin against yours makes you feel alive again.

“Was it okay?” he asks as he lays on you.

“It was perfect,” you answer.

And so it was.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.2. how did you and jack meet?

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1k

➴ author’s note: mostly sophia’s first nhl concert and how she and jackie boy met. i spent the entire morning working on that Nonsense outro and i am gonna say that im very proud of it lmfao. hope u enjoy!

—♡

THE room looked full.

On the stage, you could feel dozens, hell, hundreds of eyes on you. Shanon had warned you that at least two hundred people were expected but damn.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our most expected guest for tonight, Sophia Montenegro!” A man’s theatrical voice was heard just before the first notes of Nonsense.

You and your team worked really hard to make this happen, because April flew by, really. Coachella was a hit and you got so many jobs out of it, it was crazy. But this was what you were looking forward to the most.

You sat on top of a piano, black dress shining with the lights directed at you. You smiled, feeling anxious and excited and maybe just a little bit nauseous too. There were men, women and children sitting in round tables in front of you, but what really caught your attention was the group of men sitting on the table right in front of the stage, all of them wearing shirts with your face in it. And they were screaming the loudest too.

“‘Think I only want one number in my phone, I might change your contact to ‘don’t leave me alone’.”

Singing for you meant living. It was a necessity, a need. Every time you stepped on a stage, you felt alive, you felt fulfilled. You felt like maybe you were on this planet for a reason, and that reason presented itself whenever the words came out of your mouth during a song.

So you enjoyed yourself, and watched as the other people did the same. Everyone seemed to enjoy the acoustic version of Nonsense— which you had never sung before, by the way— and it was so funny to see grown ass men singing the lyrics like their life depended on it.

“Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in…”

“Please do the outro!” Someone shouted before the end verse and you giggled. You were already planning on doing it, but you gave the man a thumbs up either way.

“Shanon said I should keep it PG.

So, Father, I might need to be set free.

Because I really want a Devils in me.”

Loud cheers were heard and you smiled, biting your lip.

The rest of the little concert went well, and when you noticed it, you were dancing on the stage with another five players, who had two left feet and were probably a bit drunk too, but it was so much fun. One of them even asked for the mic so he could sing for a while too. You had the time of your life and you really hoped everyone else did too.

When the last song— Espresso— ended, you received a standing ovation. You felt yourself tearing up just a bit, and you closed your eyes, bowing your head.

“Thank you so much, everyone, I had so much fun tonight,” you started, voice wobbly and tired. “I didn’t know you guys were my biggest fans…”

“Nico here went to your concert!” Some guy shouted, pointing at the man— Nico, you suppose— beside him. You laughed, blowing him a kiss. The Nico guy looked like a tomato, face all red and cute, but he was wearing your merch too.

“Well, now I need to change and from what I’ve heard, we’ll have some delicious food and more amazing singers tonight, so please don’t leave!” You said, leaving the stage after another round of applause.

You found Grace in your dressing room, and you both hugged each other, yelling with excitement. “Can you believe this is our life, baby?!” Grace yelled, and you shook your head no. “I can’t either. Anyways. You have to change into a jersey and I have to take pictures of you with it.”

You looked at the jerseys hanging on the wall in front of you and smiled. “Can I have a Nico one, please?”

—♡

AFTER taking pictures with the players and their families— some of them had daughters who loved you as well—, you found yourself near the food table. You were deadass starving and you needed to get your hands on a hot dog before you passed out. Oh, and a drink as well. It was hot there.

“You got the wrong number on your back.”

You heard a playful voice behind you and you would’ve cursed, if you hadn’t had your mouth full of bread. You tried to swallow it all before you actually turned around.

What you saw was… interesting. It was probably one of the youngest guys in there, perhaps even the same age as you, and he had beautiful, blue eyes. He was wearing a white jacket and a Devils cap, so he was definitely one of the players on the team.

“Wrong number?” You asked, looking at your jersey again, the #13 plastered on your arms and back.

“Yeah. Should be wearing an eighty-six jersey instead.” He smirked.

“Let me guess. That’s your number?”

“That’s the best number. A girl like you shouldn’t be wearing anything less.”

You ignored the compliment (was it even a compliment?) and plastered a smirk on your face, too.

“I think I’m fine with Nico’s number on me. Since he’s the captain and all,” you shrugged. “He also went to my concert so that proves he is the best.”

“Sweetheart, you seriously need someone to show you what best means,” he stepped closer and suddenly your heart was racing all over again. “I happen to be the right person for it.”

“Right person?” You chuckled. “Got your hopes way too high, don’t you, lover boy?”

He shrugged, the confident smirk never leaving his face.

“Just an offer. You did say you wanted a Devils inside you.”

You audibly scoffed. This handsome ass man, with the tiniest bit of an accent and a huge lot of an attitude had some balls.

But then again. Last time you had sex with someone was a year ago, with your ridiculous ex-boyfriend, Harris. You were feeling pretty needy, but with all the work and energy you had to put into your performances, you just didn’t find the time to deal with other dipshits.

At least this one looks like he knows here your clit is.

You stepped closer, noticing how you tilted your head up so you could look into his eyes.

“Is the offer still up?”

He smiled, cocking his head to the side.

“For you, doll? It will always be.”

[dwonfilm]

There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)

Summary: Dean felt like he had no other option than to push [Y/N] out of his life completely. When he and Sam find a case in her hometown, he’s hit with all of the emotions he’d tried for so long to bury.

Warnings: swearing, mild-angst, mostly sadness and ending with fluff.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Flashbacks are in bold.

Dean and Sam had found a case in Reno, Nevada—a city that had a lot of memories particularly for the older Winchester. Sure they’d worked a dozen or more cases around here over the years but that wasn’t the type of memories that kept playing on his mind. He only wished it was that simple. Sam had opted to take the backseat, needing some extra rest on the drive and Dean usually drove his precious ‘67 impala anyway. Ever since they’d found this case, the eldest Winchester was uneasy. Not because it was anything special, from the details online it seemed like it was just another vamps nest—maybe even just a handful travelling together.

No, what began to plague his mind was something that cut much deeper than that. All he could think about was you.

It had been roughly two years since he’d last seen you. Every other second of the last year and half had been him fighting the urge to reach out, knowing two things for certain. One: you’d be far better off without him holding you down. Two: even if that wasn’t the case, he’d really hurt you the last time you spoke and despite how much he missed you.. you’d likely never speak to him again—but that’s what he’d wanted right? You to move on, you to live a life that wasn’t plagued by the dangers of all things supernatural. Find a good man, a normal man, settle down.. get married and have kids. Not have to worry about tending to someone who had spent his entire life broken. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, it seemed the universe had other plans.

It seemed at some point in the drive his playlist had changed and delved into the ‘divorced dad rock’ side of things—the first few notes of what he recognized as a Daughtry song began to play. Seemingly just as they’d finally crossed the state lines into Nevada, the lyrics began..

“Ten miles from town and I just broke down, spitting out smoke on the side of the road. I’m out here alone, just trying to get home to tell you I was wrong but you already know. Believe me I won’t stop at nothing to see you so I’ve started running.”

Now Dean knew exactly what song this was and it damn sure wasn’t helping with his desperate need to stop thinking about you. He reached out to change the song but when the chorus hit, he stopped and his finger merely hovered above the button.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

It was as if the song was delivered down by the hand of God himself, which only made the ache in Dean’s heart that much worse. He’d been in pain ever since he left two years prior, but he had no right to be—he knew that. After all, the reason he didn’t have you by his side was because he left. It was because he walked away. Deeply he’d sigh as the next verse again would line up with the exact thought in his head.

“Last time we talked, the night that I walked burns like an iron in the back of my mind. I must have been high, to say you and I, weren’t meant to be and just wasting my time. Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you.”

Death had truly paled in comparison to how he felt seeing the look in your eyes. All of the pain, the hurt as he watched you break in front of his very eyes. You’d been together three years in total, but what you didn’t know—what he refused to tell you is that his worst fear was becoming a reality. Lucifer had threatened you in order to make Dean comply with his demand. He’d figured out the only way to get to the elder Winchester was through you, seeing as Lucifer himself needed Sam for his own personal vendettas. It wasn’t long after this that Dean knew he had to get as far away from you as possible. All the pain and suffering he’d endured in his lifetime would be nothing if your death was due to him. He couldn’t live with that and more importantly, you deserved more than that out of this life.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

Sam began to stir in the backseat, which he’s caught sight of through the rear view mirror and so Dean quickly changed the station. He’d use Metallica specifically to shift the mood before his brother woke up and started asking too many questions. Questions that Dean wouldn’t have the answers to and he was already battling his mind to keep it all at bay.

Gripping Baby’s wheel tightly in his hands, he’d continue to path to Reno. About fifteen minutes later was when Sam’s eyes actually opened. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.” Dean said with a (fake) smile on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny. Wait.. how long was I out? Are we in Nevada already?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and noting their desert-like surroundings. “I don’t know, hours Sammy. Yeah we’re in Nevada—about an hour or two ‘til Reno.” Just saying the name of the city was enough to have him nervous again. There was a brief bit of silence between the brothers, Sam had a thought on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know whether he should say it. Dean’s eyes had fixated on the road ahead and he sensed that his younger brother was gonna bring it up—bring you up, he’d always really liked you. Besides that, he could always seem to tell when things were troubling Dean despite his best efforts to hide it. “You know you could-“ Sam started but knowing it was coming, the elder brother immediately shut it down. “Sam, don’t. Please. I can’t and you know that.” Dean’s voice was shaky and that let him know that he’d already been thinking about things far too long. “You’ve been thinking about it. I know you, man. You think I didn’t see the look on your face when I told you we had something in Reno?” He sighed, knowing that his older brother was struggling with this didn’t make him feel good but he also knew it was making Dean feel worse. “Sammy, please.. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Sam would shake his head but he let it go, rehashing this with Dean while he was attempting to drive wasn’t gonna end well for either of them. Not to mention an hour and a half of odd tension in such a small place wasn’t ideal either. Instead, the younger brother’s eyes averted from the front of the car altogether as he turned to gaze out the window next to him. Sighing partially in relief and partially from the lingering thoughts, Dean would fully place his attention on the road and on the directions to this particular motel. They needed to get in, solve this case and get out before he did something he’d been trying for quite some time not to do.

Surprisingly this case was a little more difficult to follow through on, these vampires were incredibly elusive and their nest wasn’t the easiest to find. However, after a couple days lingering around they finally located the nest and were able to kill the three vamps that had been killing the locals. As it had become part of the job, Sam and Dean went out to a local dive bar to celebrate the victory—but Dean was trying to do more than that. He was trying to drown the lingering thoughts of you with whiskey, swallowing the liquid and letting it gently burn his throat. This would end up having the opposite effect and only made him think of you more. Over the first hour and change the brothers spent at the bar, three separate girls tried to hit on Dean but he didn’t really pay them any mind. Around the two hour mark the elder of the brothers decided he needed some air, getting up and walking outside. Dragging his dominant hand over his face he was doing anything to cling to that last bit of pride that he had. You were better off and he knew that, but every day that had been lost it was eating at him slowly. He needed a distraction and so he walked over to his precious car, getting into the driver’s seat and sighing. One flick of the wrist and the lights would come on, the radio coming in clear as day: it was that goddamn song again.

“You and I, right or wrong, there’s no other one. After this time spent alone it’s hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind, thinking about the better times.. must’ve been out of my mind. So I’m running back to tell you.”

Again it seemed like the universe had intervened and Dean Winchester was far too drunk to fight it. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and right now, all that he needed was you. He opened up the driver’s side door and got out just to come face to face with Sam, who had been worried when he couldn’t locate his brother in the bar. “What is it Dean?” He asked, noting the emotional state it was clear he was in—confused but not entirely. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but you’d helped him with that. “I need to see her, Sammy. I can’t do this anymore.” There was enough emotion in his voice for his younger brother to know what he meant. Nodding Sam would approach the driver’s side door. “I’m driving, we’re not risking it with you.” Dean normally would protest but right now? All he needed to do was get to you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to fill the void that he’d put there himself.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, without you god knows what I’d do.”

Dean’s eyes were technically gazing out the window, but that’s not what he saw. His mind was flashing different images in rotation—one happy memory with you followed up by something he’d done to chase your memory away after he’d run away.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you and I think that all that still matters is love ever after—after the life we’ve been through. I know there’s no life after you.”

It seemed fast, but it had probably been about thirty minutes of time that had passed. Not that you lived very far at all, if you were even still at the last address the Winchesters had for you—Sam took a longer route hoping that Dean would sober up a little more before talking with you. Anyone would be able to smell the whiskey on him at this moment, but his words needed to be coherent if there was any chance of you hearing him out. It seemed that he had sort of the same idea because even when the impala had pulled into the driveway, he just sat there. “What if she doesn’t wanna talk?” Dean asked, somber tone to his voice as his eyes remained fixated on the front door of what he hoped was still your home. Mind racing almost as fast as his heart. “Dean, if I know anything about [Y/N], she’ll at least listen—even if she’s incredibly pissed and still hurt.” Sam reassured his older brother. Dean sighed again, not wanting to waste another second and also wanting to see have some alcohol in his system for this conversation. Slowly he opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the asphalt driveway. Gently closing the door, it had still alerted a dog inside the home who was barking just a little bit every couple of seconds. He carried himself up the few cement steps, turning to see the front door closer than ever. Now more memories of the last time he was here were coming back.

“Dean, please.. why are you doing this? You can’t possibly just have stopped loving me, that’s not..” Her sobs were breaking his heart but he knew this was something he had to do. “Why are you walking away from this? From us? After everything we’ve been through.. after the life we’ve built from the ground up.. you’re just throwing it all away.” She felt as if there was a fire in your chest, she’d been sobbing so intensely for what seemed like forever. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and made a mess of the space underneath her eyes. “Say something, Dean—please.. why are you pushing me away? What did I do?!” Every word became far more intense and the actual words were hard to discern from the sobs. Dean had just been staring at the floor since the words left his mouth. Three years next to her and he never imagined this day would come, but if you died just so Lucifer could get one up on him? He’d never survive. He’d never be able to carry the weight of your death or your blood on his hands—so this was the only way you got to live a long and happy life without him putting you in harm’s way. “[Y/N/N] I.. I just don’t think we were meant to work out. I’m sorry, I just-“ he was cut off by her intense sobs hearing him saying it again. “Please Dean.. don’t do this.. whatever I did wrong, whatever’s not working we can fix it. Please..” She pleaded, voice already hoarse from the crying and the wailing. “Sweetheart you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’m just, not made out for this relationship stuff.” He’d barely lifted his gaze again to meet her own, but only for a second. Seeing her like that was too hard for his heart to bare. “Why Dean.. please.. it’s been three years. Three years of this and we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can move past it together, don’t you love me anymore?” She sobbed out, arms wrapped around her own chest as Dean looked up to her face and met her gaze one last time. “Honey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.” Sighing he turned to walk out the front door, closing it and never looking back. He couldn’t look—his heart had already shattered.

Now here he was again, roughly two years later, taking the last few steps to fully stand at your front door. Lifting his hand which had formed a loose fist, he’d knock three times upon the wooden material of the door. There was no answer and no sign that anyone was home other than the dog barking that he’d heard moments prior. Dean was about to turn and walk back down the pathway when he heard the doorknob turning after the lock clicked out of position. “Do you know how late it is, what do you nee—“ her eyes widened when she realized who had just knocked at her door. “D-Dean.. what are you..” she felt her bottom lip quivering. Dean could tell this was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen. “Hi, sweetheart. I-“ before he could get another word out of his mouth, he was met with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His eyes fell as he collected his thoughts, waiting before speaking again. “I deserve that. I deserve that and so much more. [Y/N/N] I’m so sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry.” He got out, not being able to look back up at her just yet. “You’ve got some kind of nerve showing up here, this late at night.. Dean you broke my heart and you stomped on it to boot. Why do you think after two whole years that I’d listen to whatever the hell you have to say?” It was obvious that there was sadness and hurt laced within her voice, more so than the anger she’s trying to push forward. Slowly his head tilted back into its usual position and his eyes found hers again. “I know there’s no life after you.” It was all he could say in that second and her expression softened, before she’d built the wall back up. “You came all the way to quote a Daughtry song?”

“No, I’m quoting that damn song because for the three days Sam and I have been in Reno I’ve heard it everywhere. My car, in a store, hell in my head—[Y/N] I’ve been trying every day since I left to push your memory from my mind. I wanted so badly to forget about you and know that you were free to have a normal life. I also know that I’ve got no right to stand on your doorstep telling you how much pain I’ve been in since the second I walked out this door two years ago when this whole fucking thing is my fault.” He paused, tears slowly falling as he tried to blink them away. “[Y/N] I was afraid. I was so afraid.. I couldn’t lose you like that-“ Again he was cut off but just by her words this time. “Dean you did lose me, you pushed me away—fuck you pushed me out of your life altogether. You’re absolutely correct, you don’t have any right to stand here talking about your pain. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, for weeks after you left. All I did was lay on that couch and sob. Endlessly. After I couldn’t physically sob any more I thought, there has to be some kind of monster or witch doing this and so I researched for weeks and still barely ate and slept only a fraction more. All I came up with was dead end after dead end and so I finally had to realize the truth.” She sobbed out, pausing to try and steady her own voice. “You chose to leave on your own.” She’d opened her mouth to continue talking but now it was his turn to sob out, which caught her completely off guard. “He made me feel like I had no other choice..”

Now you stood with a perplexed look on your face as tears were streaming down your cheeks. “What.. who-“ before the question could even fully leave her lips, the man she loved began to speak again. “Lucifer. He needed Sammy, you know all that one true vessel shit, so he couldn’t hurt me that way. He knew any threat he put to Sam wouldn’t stick because deep down I knew that Lucifer needed Sam alive and well to complete whatever sick and twisted plan he had thought out.” She felt both her heart and her stomach drop, figuring out exactly where this was going. “[Y/N] he said he’d kill you and not think twice. I couldn’t.. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died all because I love you. I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that your death was my fault and I’d never get your blood off my hands.” His confidence had wavered, the alcohol mostly wearing off. You sighed, a silence falling over the two of you as you attempted to process what he’d just said. “Dean.. why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me what he said and we could’ve talked about it.” She asked, the venom gone from her words and a sadness settling over them. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to admit that I was scared especially to you, I’m the one that was supposed to keep you safe. I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to excuse me hurting you like I did—that image of you hugging yourself and crying the hardest I’d ever seen someone cry has haunted me all this time. I never wanna hurt anyone but I damn sure never wanted to hurt you.. at all—let alone like that..”

Again a silence fell between them, it felt like a lifetime between their words and the action she’d finally take. Stepping forward she used both of her hands to cup his face, both having glassy hues due to all the tears. “I forgive you, Dean.” She said almost in a whisper. He felt his heart racing and he eyes searched hers for any sign that this might not be true. Seconds felt like hours but he couldn’t find any sign of deception and instinctively, he plunged forward to connect his lips with her own. It had caught her off guard but she was returning the kiss with an explosion of passion. They chased the other’s lips in a back and forth motion until they both couldn’t breathe. After pushing the limit a little further they’d separate but remain forehead-to-forehead. “I know there’s no life after you.” She spoke in a soft tone before pulling Dean inside of her home and re-locking the door.

[sqh3e]

TWS as different love troupes

⊹ ࣪ ˖ tws as some of my favorite love troupes ! : 𑁤

tws ot6 : nonidol!tws x fem!reader ♡ scenarios and headcanons !

some songs i listened to while making this > 🎧

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

⋆｡˚୨ shinyu as love at first sight

you’d be at the library cause that’s where you liked to spend your free time, shinyu never really visited the library but for some reason he did today. you were standing at the counter talking to the woman behind it just small talk while she checked out a few books you had, the library was quite small it was sorta like a book store. the doors had opened causing the little bell over the door to ring. a tall gentleman with somewhat tan skin came through the door, you both make eye contact and you immediately feel butterflies in your stomach causing you to refocus your attention back to the lady behind the desk. the lady had walked away and shinyu was now standing next to you, there was an awkward silence so he spoke breaking it.

“i’ve read that series it’s really good.”

⋆｡˚୨ dohoon as onesided love

dohoon would be so into you but you already have a boyfriend he’s confessed to you before and you rejected him. he thought after you rejected him he would be able to sort out his feelings but he just can’t he’s in-love with you and if you’d give him a chance he knows he can treat you right. slowly but surely watching you walk around school smiling and laughing with your boyfriend he realizes in the end it won’t be him. for some reason he wants to confess again… maybe this time he can sort out his feeling’s officially, he asked you to meet him outside the gym after 5th period. he knows confessing with break him but his willing to go through the pain so he can be free from the hurt if knowing he already has no chance.

“and i know i’ve said all this before, but it’s true… i am inlove with you but i respect your relationship.”

⋆｡˚୨ youngjae as oblivious to love

he would be so in-love with you, showing all the signs that he wants to be with you but you never pick up on his hints. everyone around you sees it but you youngjae didn’t know how obvious he had to be, when you won your award for best actor in drama class he bought you a dozen roses. constantly tells you how beautiful you are, how good your hair looks and how you always smell great. slowly he was getting frustrated cause he’s not a straight forward kind of guy, he’d thought you’d catch on to his antics but you didn’t which drove him insanely crazy. it got to a point where your mom would help youngjae out, you liked youngjae so maybe that’s why you didn’t pick up on the signs you just thought he was being overly nice.

“y/n i truly love you… like more than a friend.”

⋆｡˚୨ hanjin as childhood sweethearts

you both had been friends since forever, he’s told you before he likes you but didn’t necessarily know what he meant, eventually you caught on and you both had been dating ever since. alot of people expected it like your parents and his, i think they would’ve been more shocked if you two hadn’t been together. hanjin would constantly do things for you as he did when you were kids he would tie your shoes for you, help dust the dust off yourself, let you play in his hair and even fall asleep on his shoulders. it felt nice to be doing the stuff you both stopped doing when you got older he missed it, but most importantly he missed you.

“i love you y/n.”

⋆｡˚୨ jihoon as soulmates

you both were already in a relationship and had been for a few months now, it’s like your heart beats were in-sink like time moved by slowly when you two were together which was a good thing, you liked to save every moment with him short or long. and he felt the exact same way, jihoon would tell you constantly how much he loves you and misses you. any chance he gets he’d always pull you into a hug or just out his arm around you, his love language is physical touch you didn’t like being touched but since it was jihoon it was okay. he’d run his hand through the your hair and ruffle it making it messy.

“your hair smells amazing, is that my shampoo??”

⋆｡˚୨ kyungmin as opposites attract

kyungmin and you would be totally opposites, you’re outgoing and he’s more of the quiet type. but that’s why you liked eachother, he is the type of guy who would admire you from afar the kind of guy who would have a HUGE crush on you but wouldn’t dare say it. your the type of person that would admire from afar and up close, the type of person that if you liked them you’d tell them, he liked the fact you were outgoing, outspoken and just not scared to interact with people. he thought you two would clash but once he found out you were just a down to earth person who just loved living life. he liked everything about you and you liked everything about him, even if people say you two would clash one day then so be it. you both just wanted to enjoy your time together.

“so what if you like horror and i like comedy? let’s watch something with both genres.”

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authors notes : thanks for reading!! i recently found out kyungmin is no longer introverted??? jaw droppedddd he doesn’t strike me as the extrovert guy but alot of people just think it’s cause he’s more talkative with the members now. but anyways please excuse any errors (if there are any)! also anyway who is waiting on Say It updates it’s coming soon! woooo, but as always hope you’re having a great day/night!

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© sqh3e

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Fire Moon

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 2482

Summary: While on an escort detail with the dwarven princes, you and Kili witness an event that prompts him into a romantic realization. 

Notes: I’ve written a lot of angst for Kili and you know what, the boy deserves some fluff. So I’m going to attempt some cozy adventure fluff for one of my favorite fantasy boys of all time. 

-

Exhaustion weighed heavily over the camp. 

Every step took more effort than you thought you had left. You’d just about completed your patrol when you heard the footsteps behind you. You reached for your sword. 

“You look too tired to lift that, let alone use it,” Kili teased, stepping into the light of your torch. 

You huffed and took your hand off the hilt. Still, even through your fatigue you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping your brother look over the supplies?”

He shrugged. “Fili can handle it. Besides, he always accuses me of stealing the apples.”

“Don’t you?” You scoffed. 

Kili winked and tossed you the bright red fruit. “Though you might be hungry.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Thanks.” You took a bite, the bright taste helping restore you a little.

“We should be in Rohan in a couple of days,” he said, taking another apple from his pocket. He spoke with his mouthful of the fruit. “The merchants should find decent trade there.”

“If they can manage not to get themselves killed.” You started walking again.

He followed, chuckling. “They aren’t exactly the exploring type, are they?”

“I’ve saved at least a dozen from poisonous plants alone.” Your hands moved with your words, emphasizing your frustration. 

He thought it was adorable. 

“I’m worried, should we run into any Dunlendings, these people won’t just be unable to defend themselves, they’ll get in our way of defending them” you sighed. 

“I’m sure we’ll manage.” He nudged your shoulder, grinning. “You look so serious.” Kili mockingly mimicked your expression, unable to hold it for long before he was beaming again. “This is supposed to be an adventure.”

“We’re charged with keeping them safe and I can’t do that if they keep putting themselves in danger!” You exclaimed. 

Kili raised a brow. “You really are tired, hmm?” He snickered. 

You laughed, running a hand down your face. “Shut up.” 

A content quiet settled between you as you took in the scenery around. Even in the dark, the silhouettes of the Misty Mountains still took your breath away. 

“I’d forgotten,” you mused. 

Kili tilted his head. “Forgotten what?”

You smiled and took his hand. “Why I agreed to come on this venture in the first place.”

Kili brought your hand up to his lips, holding it a little tighter. His dark honey eyes met yours with nothing less than utter happiness. 

“Well, we’re fortunate you could join us,” he chuckled. “Who knows what kind of trouble Fili and I would get into if you weren’t here to keep us in line.” 

You snorted. “I’m sure he’d say the same about you and me.” 

“He mentioned it just this morning, actually,” Kili beamed. 

“What a trio we make.” You looked over the camp and sighed. All these people traveling to gather supplies to take all the way back to their homes. They worked and prayed and fought to protect something you’d never had. Not that you always minded. With the stars over your head and Kili’s hand in yours, you knew you would be content anywhere. 

Besides, you were far too restless to ever stay in one place. As were your traveling companions. Even now, Kili could hardly stand still. 

You stretched beside him, yawning. 

“You should get some rest,” Kili said. “I can take watch for the next few hours.”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine.” You yawned again before you could stop it. 

He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Sleep, my darling.” The rumble of his voice warmed every inch of you. 

You knew there was no point in arguing. 

“Only if you promise to sleep as well.” You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “It gets too cold without you.”

Kili turned his head, quickly capturing your lips in a kiss. He smirked. “I’ll do a few rounds and then switch with one of the others.”

You gave him another quick kiss before heading back to where you’d set up your bedrolls. 

Kili watched you go, his grin never faltering for a second. In all the years he’d known you and all the time you’d been together, Kili had still never gotten used to simply gazing at you. 

“You’re supposed to be watching the whole camp, you know,” Fili teased, appearing at his brother’s side. 

Kili cleared his throat and turned to the tents. “I am.”

Fili chuckled, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe that the girl who followed us around, demanding archery lessons grew up to be-” he motioned to your retreating figure, “well, Y/N.”

“I think she’s always been beautiful,” Kili mused, the taste of your kiss still lingering in his smile. 

Fili snorted. “That’s not what you said the first time you took her shooting.” He ruffled his younger brother’s hair. “Ah, the power love has over memory.”

Kili stopped dead. “L-love?” He stammered. 

“It’s only an expression,” Fili laughed. He watched Kili’s face turn red. “Unless… by the gods, you are in love!”

Kili yanked him aside. “Would you keep your voice down?” He hissed. 

Fili lit up with a mischievous smile. “You haven’t told her?”

“There hasn’t exactly been a good time.” Kili crossed his arms and turned away, looking more bashful than Fili had ever seen him. 

Fili pat him on the back. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, brother.” He snickered. “You’re going to need it.”

-

Fili cast many knowing looks in your direction the next day. Every side-glancing smirk made you wonder just what the dwarven prince was keeping from you. Unfortunately, you took the middle of the party while he stayed in the back, so you didn't get the chance to interrogate him. 

Kili, on the other hand, couldn't seem to get away from you quickly enough. Every time you approached him, he came up with some excuse to get away. Even last night, he’d remained distant, staring up at the stars while he lay across the grove from you. Between that and Fili’s odd attention, you couldn’t help the doubts that began to flit through your head. 

Had you done something wrong?

Another day of travel passed, vast and rolling fields to one side and jagged, towering peaks to the other. The mountain breeze wisped through your hair. Its briskness carried the scent of wildflowers and helped to distract from your thoughts. 

Kili, who was leading the party, called everyone to a stop. This would be where you camped tonight. It was a good spot- near a creek, trees for firewood, and plenty of rabbits for restocking previsions. But since he was giving you the cold shoulder, you kept this praise to yourself. 

He and Fili met you in the middle to tie up your ponies and discuss the evening’s plan. But once the ponies were secured, the three of you just… stood there. An odd and unfamiliar tension hung between you. 

So Fili took matters into his own hands. 

“Some of the merchants were talking,” he said, glancing between the two of you. “Apparently, they saw some smoke along the ridge.” 

Kili made a face. “I didn’t see any smoke.”

“I did,” Fili said- a little too quickly, you noted. He put a hand on you and Kili’s shoulders. “You two should go scout it out.” And before either of you could argue, he continued. “We wouldn’t want to be surprised by a group of Dunlendings, would we?” He hurried off to join the others, turning back just for a moment. “Don’t get killed. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about when you get back.”

Fili shot his brother a wink. 

Kili promptly reddened and muttered a string of curses. 

“He seems… odd today,” you noted, watching the blonde vanish amongst the tents. 

“It’s a long story,” Kili grumbled and started up the path. 

You took a deep breath, trying in vain to banish the worries pounding through your head like a war drum.

Fili was right about one thing. 

It would certainly be an interesting night. 

-

It was hard to remain irritated once you began to take in the beauty around you. Massive trees enveloped you on either side, giving you glimpses of the rocky landscape through their branches. Birds and frogs filled the air along with the bubbling of creeks made from snowmelt. The setting sun cast the world in hues of orange and gold, giving the mountain peaks the illusion of being capped with fire. 

“We should be at the top of the ridge within the hour,” Kili said, hiking slightly behind you. 

“I’m not sure we need to go that far,” you observed. “I see no sign of smoke at all. And besides, why would Dunlendings be camped out this far?”

Kili caught up to you. He looked strange, almost nervous. This only worsened your confusion. 

“Why don’t we go anyway?” He gave you a small smile. “Just to be sure.”

You watched him for a second, tilting your head as if he was a riddle you couldn't solve. 

“Alright,” you finally said and the two of you continued onward, now walking side by side. 

Kili felt more anxious than he was when he faced his first one. Every time you glanced at him, the butterflies in his stomach turned brutal, and each time you smiled at the stunning view, he wanted to catch your lips with his and never let go. 

You tried your best to pretend like everything was normal despite the fact that lightning seemed to shoot up your arm every time his hand grazed yours. 

“I heard of a town with a goblin problem not far from Ered Luin,” you said. “Perhaps we could head there when we escort the merchants home.”

Kili nodded. 

You continued in silence.

A deer ran across your path to drink from the creek. Its large brown eyes watched the two of you and must have determined you posed no threat for it bowed its head down to the cool mountain waters. 

This, you thought, was all you needed. The air of the Misty Mountains, the pleasant tiredness of a day’s adventure, and someone to share it with. 

You just hoped that Kili felt the same. 

With the sun almost set completely, the first stars blinked their soft white light over you. Even Kili, who’d only ever seen them as a cold, distant light, couldn’t help but marvel at their splendor. Everything just seemed more beautiful now. 

By the time you reached the top of the ridge, you both knew there’d be nothing to find, but you stayed to enjoy the view anyway, lit by the stars and the lingering light just on the horizon. 

Across a canyon, evergreens painted the rocky hillside with shoots of autumn gold running in between like veins. A distant waterfall twinkled in the starlight. 

Breathless, you stood at the edge, taking in every sight and sound. 

“It’s beautiful,” you gasped. 

“Yes, it is,” Kili agreed, though he wasn’t looking at the mountain at all. 

You turned and he quickly glanced away. Your heart pounded. It was now or never, you supposed. 

“Have I done something?” You blurted. 

Kili’s nose scrunched up adorably, his brows drawing together. 

“What?”

“Well, you’ve been different and I thought I may have done something.” You could feel your cheeks grow pink. 

“No,” he paused, smirking at himself, “well, I suppose, in a way-” He thought of the way you smiled at every person in the camp, even when they irritated you. He thought of how your eyes lit up when you saw something beautiful, like the view before you now. How, even in the dark, it pained him not to see you for a single moment. 

Your stomach sank. You took his hand. “What is it? If I’ve said something or done something to upset you, then please tell me now.”

Kili’s expression morphed, a bright smile taking over his features, bringing a light to his eyes that rivaled the stars. 

“No, Amrâlimê,” he said sweetly, “the only thing you have done is be the incredible woman you are.” Kili took a breath, holding your hand to his chest to feel you closer. “The woman I have fallen utterly and completely in love with.”

He kissed your fingers, then your palm, then the inside of your wrist.

“K-Kili,” you breathed, feeling as though you’d given all of the air in your lungs away. Like you had given yourself to him completely. You opened your mouth to tell him this, but both of you turned as you were swallowed by a warm light like the most powerful and enchanting sunrise. But it was not the sun rising about the dark peaks and emerald trees.

It was the moon. Impossibly large and glowing it embraced everything in reds and oranges and golds. It turned the already incredible view of the canyon into a wall of magic.

“A fire moon,” Kili gasped. “I’ve only ever heard tales of them for old explorers. Truly the stories cannot compare.”

The moon continued its ascent slowly, both of you frozen by its brilliance. The pure rays washed over you, giving you all the clarity you needed. 

“Marry me,” you said suddenly.

Kili tore his eyes away from the celestial splendor to look at you in surprise. The light surrounded you with an ethereal glow. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

You continued, stepping closer to him so that your faces were breaths apart.

“I love you, Kili of the Line of Durin,” you beamed, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind his ear. “This journey has shown I don’t want a single adventure without you by my side. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” You paused, trying to gauge his response, but he remained entranced. “If you’ll have me.” 

Speechless, Kili simply took your face in his hands and brought your lips to his for a kiss with a passion that outshone the light of the Fire Moon ten times over. When he pulled away, he could hardly contain his joy.

“Yes,” he said. “A thousand times yes. Amrâlimê… my love… my Y/N.” He kissed you again and again in between each wonderful phrase until you were both breathless and laughing. Kili’s eyes widened with realization. “We must tell Fili at once! This was all his doing, getting us to come up here so I would stop being such a coward.” He grinned, his boyish playfulness returning. 

You smirked. “First, let’s punish him for his trickery and stay here a while longer. Make him worry a little.”

Kili chuckled. “You are a devious thing, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” you giggled, “but you love me anyway.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek. “That I do.” 

He pulled you into his arms and held you beneath the brilliant moon.

[pedriache]

Want you to want it — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your relationship was ending. You knew it was. But why couldn’t he want it—the relationship—to last?

Word count: 756

Disclaimer/s: angst! also i lowkey gave up on the ending thats my bad

A/N: this is like the 2nd draft i ever made and i completely forgot abt it.. oopsies..

It hadn’t always been like this. You used to be madly in love. But now you’d come home from work only to find him sleeping on the couch, leaving your once shared bedroom cold and empty.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You stood in the hallway kicking off your shoes when you noticed movement on the couch. It was the fifth time that week that you’d only spoken to him twice in a day.

Of course you knew he had a busy week with practice and getting ready for the upcoming season, but it still hurt you to go days without a loving word from your boyfriend of three years.

Setting down your purse and keys, you contemplate getting it over with and waking him up, demanding he sleeps in bed tonight.

Hesitantly, you make your way into the living room, but the soft sounds of your feet hitting the floor is not quiet enough. A tussle of light brown hair slowly makes its appearance, a guff voice following after, “hello?” He grumbles out, his voice alone lacking the love it once held.

A burst of something you couldn’t quite name, shoots directly into your heart. Anger, frustration, desperation? Who knows. All you knew was you’d do anything to make him love you again, and he seemed to be doing everything to make you hate him.

“Hey.” You finally reply, your voice soft as you inch around the couch. “Come to bed.”

Gavi glances up, sleep evident on his face as he looks at you for the first time in God knows how many days. “Too tired.” He answers, his head falling back to the pillow with a quiet humph.

Now you knew what you felt, angry. “Bullshit!” You scoff, “bull fucking shit.”

Once again, Gavi’s eyes open, this time the sleep gone from them, replaced with annoyance. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all week. And now you’re ‘too tired’ to walk ten feet to our bed?” You spat, making sure he caught on to every word you said.

“Yeah? I’m tired, why would I move when i’m already perfectly comfortable?” His tone is condescending and the more he speaks, the more frustrated you become.

Swallowing a bundle of nerves that were begging you to just leave it be, that the conversation could wait. You knew it couldn’t this was a long time coming.

“What happened to you? To us?” You ask, voice hoarse as you felt every emotion rushing to your throat. You let the silence settle, watch as his expression shifts a dozen times before choosing one.

He runs a hand over his face, jaw tightening as he stumbles for words. “Can we just talk about this in the morning?” He finally sighs out.

“No!” You laugh, although it was humorless. “No. We will talk about this now. Pablo, i’ve been trying to make up excuses as to why you have been so withdrawn, but i’m so tired of it. I just want you to want it—our relationship, I want you to want it to last. But you clearly don’t!”

Gavi’s eyes soften, darting around your weary face. He loved you, he did. He knew he did because every time you were near him, his hands ached to touch you. He knew he loved you, because he couldn’t go a second without thinking of you. Until recently, his mind had been all over the place.

He was finishing his last few months of rehab, and he’d been so busy with focusing on his career, he simply lost sight of the relationship.

He couldn’t juggle the two, and at the end of the day, he would have to choose his career. He’d be miserable if he didn’t, and he’d be miserable without you. It was a lose-lose situation.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he had to say. Your lips quiver as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” You nod, placing your hands on your face as you rub your temples. “Got it.”

He calls out your name as you walk to the bedroom, but you ignore it. You ignore him, shutting the door behind you. This was how it ended, he didn’t have to explain it. You knew why it was ending, and as strongly as you wanted to hate him for it, you couldn’t.

Your love for him understood that he needed football to survive, and maybe, you figured, you’ll forgive him for it one day. But for now, you grabbed a suitcase from your closet, and began to pack.

DTS , @halfwayhearted !