#also i just wrote this all like over the last 2 hours & i did NOT read it over when i finished lmfao so apologies if there are any mistakes

[stevethehairington]

i love you prompts: 98 w/ romantic steddie? 😌

lou!! thank you for sending this in!! ooh this is a good one!!

98. "Take a deep breath"

It’s late when the credits finally start to roll onscreen.

Steve guesses it’s sometime close to midnight, or maybe a little after, but he’d taken his watch off earlier before he’d gotten elbow deep in dirty dish water, cleaning up after the mess they somehow managed to make whipping up a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. It sits on the kitchen counter, all the way across the room, and the nearest clock in the Munson trailer hangs beside the phone, too far away for Steve to see from his spot on the couch.

He can’t exactly twist in his place to try and catch a better glimpse of it, or get up to fetch his watch either. Not while Eddie leans up against his side, arms crossed over his chest and neck bent awkwardly so his head can rest against Steve’s shoulder, fast asleep.

When they first put the movie on, the two of them had started off on opposite ends of the already pretty small couch, but as it progressed, they’d gradually shifted closer and closer — in the name of sharing popcorn easier, to whisper their movie commentary directly into each other’s ears rather than speak over the film, and, eventually, so it seems, so that Eddie could use Steve as a pillow. 

Not that Steve minded or anything. He liked it, in fact — likes it. Likes having Eddie so close, likes feeling the warmth of his body pressing up against his own, likes the fact that Eddie is comfortable enough with him to let his guard down like this.

Eddie hasn’t been sleeping all that well as of late, so when his head tipped onto Steve’s shoulder a little over half an hour ago, Steve just slouched a little lower to ease the angle of his neck and reached for the remote to turn down the volume. It had been a little hard for him to hear it after that, but he hadn’t really paid it much attention after that point anyways.

Now, though, the movie is over, and it’s late enough that Steve’s verging on overstaying his welcome. He knows he should probably wake Eddie so he can let him know that he’s going and say his goodbyes and head out.

But Eddie just looks way too peaceful. Steve doesn’t want to wake him.

Instead, he decides that he can just leave a note. In case Eddie does wake up to find him gone. He’ll know nothing bad happened to Steve, just that he went home for the night and that they’ll see each other tomorrow — because chances are they will. They hardly went a day without spinning into each other’s orbits now.

Except, Steve doesn’t want to just leave Eddie on the couch either. He knows from personal experience that the Munson’s sofa is not exactly the most comfortable thing ever. Every time he falls asleep on it, he wakes up with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back. He doesn’t want that for Eddie.

His bedroom isn’t far, just down the hall, and Steve will feel a lot better if he gets Eddie to his bed before he leaves. So, he does his best to maneuver out from beneath Eddie, cradling his head as he removes it from his shoulder and lowers it to the cushion instead.

Steve takes a second to roll out his shoulders, then he slips one arm under Eddie’s back and the other behind his knees, which are curled to his side. As carefully as he can, he lifts Eddie from the couch.

Eddie stirs, but he doesn’t wake, thank god. He just smacks his mouth a little and buries his nose into the collar of Steve’s sweater, and Steve lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

Eddie’s lighter than he looks, but still pretty heavy, and Steve doesn’t want to drop him, so he takes it slow as he follows the path towards Eddie’s door at the end of the hall. It’s, thankfully, already open, so all he has to do is kick out a foot to push it wide enough to fit through.

The blinds in Eddie’s room are still fucked up — broken enough that the slats droop down in a way that gives the morning sun the perfect opening to shine right in and wake him up before it’s time. Eddie complains about it constantly, but he hasn’t made any sort of attempt to fix them yet, and right now, Steveis grateful for that. The glow of the moon is bright enough to seep in through the gap, providing just enough gentle light that Steve can see where he’s going.

He makes it to the side of Eddie’s bed without issue, and delicately deposits Eddie onto his mattress. Again, Eddie shifts, rolling slightly onto his side, but he still doesn’t rouse.

The blankets are shoved to the end of Eddie’s bed, and Steve stifles a snort at that as he reaches for them and starts to pull them up and over Eddie’s body. He knows Eddie runs cold, so he takes a moment to tuck the corners in and add an extra blanket to the top so that he’s nice and cozy.

Then, unable to help himself, Steve brushes Eddie’s bangs to the side and leans down to leave a soft ghost of a kiss to his forehead.

He’s just starting to straighten up and pull his hand back when quick fingers dart out to curl around his wrist, trapping him there.

Steve freezes, eyes snapping back open to find Eddie, awake, blinking hazily back up at him.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, groggy, still somewhere halfway in between awake and asleep.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me,” Steve whispers. “You fell asleep, I just brought you to your room so you’d be comfortable,” he tells him.

Eddie smiles then, this sleepy, goopy sort of thing that makes something warm settle in Steve’s chest, and he tugs on Steve’s wrist. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and Steve thinks maybe he has something he wants to tell him.

So he leans in closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Eddie tips his chin up, and Steve thinks he’s going for his ear, so he can whisper his sleepsoft secret. Only, his mouth doesn’t go anywhere near Steve’s ear. Instead, it lands against his own in a—

In a kiss.

It’s chaste, tender, just the sweet press of lips against lips. It catches Steve off guard at first, but the surprise settles, and Steve is about to let himself melt into it.

Then the moment shatters.

Eddie jerks back, bolting upright as he scrambles far enough back in his bed that he hits the headboard. His eyes are wide open now, fully alert and not a single trace of sleepiness anywhere on his face as he stares at Steve. His hand, the one he’d had around Steve’s wrist just seconds ago, hovers over his own mouth, like he can’t quite believe what it has just done.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m so— I didn’t mean to— fuck, you have to— please don’t—”

“Woah, hey, it’s… it’s alright, Eddie,” Steve says, holding his hands out in what he hopes is a placating gesture. He doesn’t come closer, doesn’t want to frighten Eddie further, but he wants Eddie to know that there’s no reason for him to be so scared. He’s not… he’s not mad. Or upset. Or anything that Eddie probably thinks he is right now. Not even close.

Eddie’s words start to fail him as his breathing begins to hitch, and Steve can see the rapidfire rise and fall of his chest. His eyes are on Steve, but he’s not looking at him. He’s looking through him, like he’s somewhere else right now. Like he’s spiraling into every single bad place his mind can take him right now.

Steve recognizes it for what it is — a panic attack.

“Eddie,” Steve tries, forgetting politeness as he moves to the edge of Eddie’s bed and kneels against the mattress. He reaches out to rest his hand on Eddie’s shoulder — to give him a point of contact, something to focus on. Something to ground him. It’s what usually helps Steve whenever he’s having a panic attack, finding an anchor, to bring him back down.

Eddie’s hand flies out to grasp at Steve’s wrist, and Steve lets him pull it from his shoulder so that he can curl his fingers around Steve’s palm instead. His grip is tight, nails biting into Steve’s skin, but Steve doesn’t care.

“You’re safe,” Steve reassures. “You’re safe and I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie nods, but Steve isn’t so sure his words have reached him. Not when he still looks so panicked, and his breathing is still coming out too fast.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs.

Eddie’s eyes settle onto Steve’s face, still hazy but doing better at focusing. Steve smiles at him, nods encouragingly. “Come on, do it with me, deep breath in.”

Steve makes a show of inhaling again, holding up his fingers to count to three before he starts to let it all back out in an exhale. He goes through it twice before Eddie catches on and starts to mirror him.

They follow the pattern until finally Eddie’s breathing returns to normal and the panic seems to subside.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s shoulders slump and his head drops forward, his hair hanging like a curtain around his face. Steve hasn’t let go of Eddie’s hand yet, and he doesn’t plan to.

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh, but he doesn’t look up. “Depends,” he starts. “Are you going to… to fucking… hit me or shout at me or something?”

Steve’s face screws up, mouth tugging down into a hard frown. “What?” He asks. “Why would I do that? Because you had a panic attack?”

Eddie snorts. “No,” he replies, like he can’t believe that’s what Steve thinks this is about. He stays quiet for a second, two, three. Like he can’t quite bring himself to say it. “Because I— because I kissed you,” he finally breathes.

“Oh,” Steve says softly. He watches Eddie for a moment, doesn’t like that he can’t see his face. He wants to see his face. So, with careful fingers, he reaches out to brush Eddie’s hair back, to tuck it behind his ear.

Eddie’s breath catches as he does, and his gaze flickers up to Steve’s, briefly, before fixing firmly on his lap again.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, “I’m not mad that you kissed me.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in.

When they do, Eddie’s head snaps up. His eyes land on Steve’s, wide and surprised and searching. “You’re not?”

Steve shakes his head. Lets a little smile grace his lips. “Nope,” he confirms. “Not one single bit.”

And, well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? He shuffles a little closer on his knees, presses further into Eddie’s space. “In fact…” he trails off. Does a little searching of his own. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again,” Steve finishes after he’s sure that Eddie isn’t going to push him away.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift this time, the pull together. Steve wants to smooth out the little wrinkle that forms between them. 

“Are you… you’re serious?” Eddie asks.

“Serious as a heart attack,” Steve replies.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches, then a smile breaks out across his face. “Holy shit, you’re serious,” he says, followed by a breathless little laugh.

Steve can’t help but laugh too, and he nods and starts to tug at Eddie’s hand to pull him in this time. “Yeah,” he says. “Now that that’s been established, you think I could get another one?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s won the lottery. “Jesus christ, yes, yes please,” he says, and the hand not caught in Steve’s comes up to bunch into the front of his sweater as he meets him halfway.

It’s a little offcentered, a little overeager on both of their parts, but it’s perfect.

When they break apart, Eddie presses his forehead against Steve’s. “Were you leaving?” He asks.

“I was,” Steve answers. “I don’t want to now,” he admits.

Eddie chuckles and lets go of Steve only just long enough to peel back the covers Steve had so lovingly tucked around him not too long ago.

“So stay,” Eddie says.

With his welcome so graciously extended like that, who is Steve to say no?

So he stays.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

[wcters]

𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2k+

summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years

warnings: pda, established relationship, mostly fluff, some angst | i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing because i got excited and had an idea

     You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.

You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.

It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.

You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”

You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.

You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.

It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?” You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.

Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.

Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked “would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.

You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.

Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.

He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.

Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?

Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.

And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.

While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.

Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.

As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.

“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”

[siriuslylantsov]

mistletoe

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which you and spencer decorate your apartment for christmas.

tags: fluff, roommate!spencer, gn!reader, idiots in love, pinning, decorating!, spencer lifts reader up super quick, reader teases spencer bcs its fun, a little singing.

a/n: woahhh first christmas fic. MY BAD i listened to our love by curtis harding when i wrote majority of this so it just became what it did (not rlly sure what that is). you'd think a reader fond of christmas would only be playing christmas songs (esp when decorating), but she doesn't even?? idk guys. also i gave a hack making a header for this one, might continue making them. anyway lmk what you think, happy reading :))

wc: 1.7k

“tacky, tacky, tacky...” you drone, fingers skimming over the themed trinkets and signs on the shelves. you’re christmas decor shopping with spencer. it's almost the end of november, which you personally think is too late (being a strict ‘christmas starts on november 1st’ believer), but you had no choice in the matter, wanting to wait for spencer's schedule to free up so you could go together. 

“oh cute!” you chirp, picking up a porcelain snoopy with a santa hat on. you show it to spencer, who trails behind you with a sparsely filled cart. “beside the-”

“tv,” he finishes for you, nodding in agreement. you place it in the cart and continue walking down the aisle.

“i hope you’re checking the price tags,” he muses from behind you, scanning over all the items. you shoot him a look paired with an unconvincing “yeah.”

“be serious,” he says, though a little amused.

“i am,” you step closer to him, meeting his somewhat challenging gaze. you try to hold your ground but something about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he squints at you makes you want to look away. “fine, i'll look over everything before check out. deal?”

he smiles, victorious. “deal.” he holds out his hand and you give it a firm shake before continuing your perusing.

you spend the next 2 hours like that, complaining about the abundance of generic things and squealing when you do find something nice. in the end, settling on an assortment of baubles, to add on to the ones you already had from last year, a new green blanket, a mulled-wine scented candle (that took you way too long to pick), the snoopy ornament, and 2 matching mugs which you had to sweet talk spencer into buying. you can never have too many mugs. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you light the new candle and set it on the dining table, briefly glancing at the flame. the warmth on your face feels nice but you pull away quickly, knowing that if spencer catches you that close to the candle, he’ll chastise you about the fumes. 

he's digging through the closet for last year's decorations. the tree is already up–7ft something–tucked in the corner of the living room, bare and in dire need of some personality. he finds the box, and you pull out the fairy lights, starting to swirl the wire from the top down, spencer opposite you to help.

music faintly plays from your speaker, so you turn it up, landslide by fleetwood mac.

you circle around the tree with a handful of baubles, a collection of reds and whites, hanging them up where they felt right. spencer nudges you for approval on a few placements and you give him a reassuring smile. the two of you move in sync, on either end. he places a custom ornament of his team somewhere to the front of the tree. when you put up the last of the new ones, you take a step back and give it a good look. happy, spencer hands you the star. he hovers two tentative hands under your arms, over your rib cage, to lift you. there’s a stool near you that would’ve been perfectly fine, but you wiggle in his grasp anyway, telling him he can. despite his lanky frame, he picks you up with ease. you place the gold topper on firmly. when he puts you down you lean back into him, swaying. you hum quietly to the music. he presses his lips into your hair, lingering, before pulling away. you instantly miss his warmth, but you don't dwell on it, why should you?

the click of the kettle sounds from the kitchen, he's probably making tea. you think to tell him to use the new mugs, but he already knows. you're still swaying, head dipping up and down as you move across the room. you look through the box for more things to decorate with when your eyes land on a sprig of artificial leaves held together with a red bow.

“hey, when did we get mistletoe?” you call out, hoping your voice carries to the adjoining room.

“hmm?” he pokes his head through the door, looking at the item in your hand. “oh... penny got it for us last year, didn't put it up though.” he explains before returning to the tea, you put it in your pocket for later. you were well aware of what his teammates thought of you, or rather you and him. over the course of the 2 years you lived with spencer, you’d been taken to their family dinners and get-togethers as his plus one, never a girlfriend or a date, you. they ceased their relentless teasing for your benefit, but you knew spencer got the brunt of it when you weren't around. they mean well, they’re just annoying, he told you after you met them for the first time. 

you saunter over, ready to tease him. you can't help but want to, he's just so easy. plus, you think it's endearing when he's flustered. “you wanna put it up?” you ask with a smirk, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“what! oh- i don't know, no- uhm- well i don't mean no like it would be bad a bad thing- i just mean–” he stammers nervously, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before you cut him off with a laugh. 

“calm down, pretty. i'm just joshin’ ya.”

he lets out a sigh of relief, though it's laced in hidden disappointment. he wouldn't mind if you put it up, wouldn't mind at all. he hands you your mug, navy with little yellow speckles that resembled stars. with his own in hand, he leads you out of the kitchen.

you settle on the couch beside each other. your shoulder lightly bumps against his in steady beats because you're still swaying, as you blow at your drink. worried about you spilling he peels it from you and sets it down on the arm rest to cool on its own. your knee is bouncing now as the next song starts playing, our love. 

“there's a girl in town and words gone around she's just fine,” you sing quietly, head dropping onto his shoulder. “so i don't worry my head cause i know her heart is tied to mine.” you tip back onto the cushions, and you raise a dramatic hand to your chest, over your heart. “the life that we live and the love that i give to her. each day it grows more and more i'm sure, it shows. well,” you shift to face him, leaning closer. 

“our love, is a bubblin' fountain. our love, that flows into a sea. our love, deeper than any ocean. our love, for eternity.”

you quiet as the second verse starts playing, switching to mouthing the lyrics instead. you look at him with a reverie, head tilted in observation, that makes him nervous. “…he holds me down for sure.” in diligent self-sabotage, he combats this by starting to sing along with you, putting his mug down beside yours, effectively ending the moment as you spring in recognition.

your eyebrows furrow in amusement as you follow suit, planting your hands on his shoulders to move his in tow with yours. the angle is awkward, and he looks a little silly as he does it but it's fine. the chorus plays through and you tire, dipping your head back into his shoulder as he returns your mug to you, albeit still quietly mumbling the lyrics. 

you practically chug the tea, having reached an ideal temperature. spencer sits sipping slowly, a serial sipper. you curl into his side in the meantime, arm looped through his. after several minutes, he finishes and you take both mugs to the sink, rinsing them swiftly. 

you slowly but surely continue decorating. two stockings adorned with your initials hang from the key rack in the hallway. handmade paper snowflakes are stuck to the window, snowflakes that had you and spencer hunched over in concentration on the floor a few nights ago, tediously cutting away. you go back and forth on whether the tinsel would go well with the tree, realising all it missed was something sparkly, you wrap it around. spencer nails a simple wreath on the front door, there's a little purple bow on it. snoopy is placed in the midst of the trinkets that sat at your tv table–good choice, you think. you change out the pillowcases on the couch for ones with a red flannel pattern and throw the new blanket across the back. 

the space is perfect, standing in the middle of the room you take a deep breath. waxy candle scented greatness fills your senses, and somehow pine? from the wreath you assume. it's dimly lit, and the low light reflects off the sparkles on the tree gracefully. you wish you had a fireplace during times like this, you take a picture to preserve it anyway. 

you leave to change into your pyjamas, quickly so the cold doesn't linger on your skin. when you return to the living room you find spencer on the couch, a book perched in his lap. you come up to the back, mistletoe that you fished out of your pocket in hand. you crouch behind him, a little to his right, with the leaves dangling over his head. you graze it lightly on his hair and he looks up. his eyes widen slightly in realisation, but he doesn't try to move, he's intently still. with an amused huff, you lean in and kiss his cheek softly. he's still frozen in place, so as to prolong whatever's happening, a flush spreading across his face. you lean back and drop the sprig into the seat beside him. 

“goodnight spencer,” you whisper, suddenly timid. he touches his fingers to the area as you walk away. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

a few hours later, he walks into your room, quietly padding across the floor, to your side of the bed. he made the mistake of drinking a cup of coffee a few minutes after you left and now, he can't sleep, naturally. he bends and presses a kiss to your forehead, in some kind of implied reciprocation. you don't feel it, you don't even stir, but for now, that's alright with him.

he’ll put the mistletoe up, maybe in the doorway to the kitchen. and hope to god you both find yourselves under it at the same time.

m.list | comments and reblogs are appreciated :)

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

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

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!" 

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw 

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 

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

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[sluttycelestialgoddess]

If you give Sylus a Hunter...

Synopsis. Sylus has a lot of fun making you beg.

Pairings. Sylus x reader(MC)

Content. MDNI. edging, fem reader, praise, crying, mentions use of evol, pet names (kitten, sweetie, good girl, etc), AFTERCARE.

Word Count. 2.2k (damn... pretty good for my first story)

Author's Note. Thanks for reading my first story! Let me know what you think, and feel free to leave me requests! I wrote this while listening to 'Be Quiet and Drive' by Deftones. (also, did you like the title... I thought of 'when you give a mouse a cookie' and giggled to myself) xo, Z/Chaos

MDNI BEYOND THIS POINT.

Sylus had you right where he wanted you. His bed. Again. He looked down at you with his usual arrogant smirk as you whimpered and squirmed. His crimson eyes seemed to be lit with that internal glow they had sometimes when he was excited or wanted something. “Now, now, kitten. Spread those pretty thighs for me. You don’t want me to use my evol again, do you?” he purred sardonically, his left eye beginning to actually glow.

You were almost at your wits end. It had been an hour since he grabbed you out of the hallway of his hilariously (or should you say outrageously?) huge home you were attempting to get to know your way around and all but threw you onto his bed, using his evol to hold your hands above your head as he stripped you bare. He was insatiable. You’d been staying with him for four days at this point and already you’ve had more sex than you had in the last 2 years combined. Which, in the grand scheme of things, you guessed wasn’t much considering you dedicated all your time to becoming a Hunter for Linkon City after the rise of wanderer attacks, resulting in a gnarly dry spell… but his hunger for you was bordering on absurd. Even so, you had to ask yourself… Does he ever get tired?

In this hour that he’d had you at his mercy, he’d managed to edge you to the pinnacle of ecstasy no less than five times, never letting you reach that sweet release. You were a shaking, sobbing, whimpering mess, and he loved it. You were half in the mind to use one of the safe words he declared you use on the first night if you ever found yourself not being able to handle something. But your pride was like a gag, not letting your tongue form the word. “Feather”. How fitting, the smug bastard. 

“‘Feather’ will be to stop. You say that and everything stops. We do not continue. There will be no “break and then get back to it”. Saying that means you’re done for the night. So just be sure that’s the one you want to use,” he had told you. At the time you had giggled, thinking it was endearing, thinking back on it now, you wanted to kick him in the face. No way in hell were you uttering the word “feather” while a trembling, whimpering mess. If only you could actually move your legs to kick him, but nope. Useless appendages. 

You realized Sylus was still waiting for you to comply with his request. Finally having an ounce of control over your legs after they had become jelly sometime in the last 20 minutes, you shakily opened your legs to him, a whimper leaving your lips as the cool air in the room met your soaked lips. I could kick him now… but then he’d keep me like this all night. Fucker.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well,” he praised, not seeing your thoughts, steadily growing fond of the idea of smashing your foot to his face. You internally smiled at your mental picture, but really you were enjoying yourself all things considered. He leaned over to rub soothing circles over your thigh before running a long finger through your sensitive folds. “You remember your safe words, correct?” he asked with a grin and you nodded, glaring daggers. He chuckled and hummed at how wet you’d gotten, and he hadn’t even put his mouth on you. Looking up to watch your reaction, he slipped his finger in, curling slightly to caress over the spot that always made you gasp. You did, and he smiled at the pretty sound, feeling pride at how well he knew your body. However, he was beginning to think he was being just a tad cruel as he watched your eyebrows knit together and the pitiful whimpers run into each other as they exited your lush lips. 

“Oh baby, I know, I know… I’ll let you come soon. Such a good girl… you look fucking delicious right now,” he cooed as he eased a second finger inside you and coated his thumb in your wetness before rubbing circles over your throbbing clit. Goosebumps covered your skin and you whined, your hips bucking up of their own accord. “Mmm, such a needy kitten. Sweetie, I think you could take a couple more, hm?”

You whimpered out unintelligible curses at the remark and he chuckled. “Sylus… I really don’t know if I can,” you say, finally having found your voice in the string of muttered curses and whines. You clenched your eyes closed as he pressed harder on your clit and curled his fingers deeper. That blossoming warmth entered your tummy again. You fluttered around him and he groaned, wanting so badly to see you come apart, but needing it to be while he was inside you so you could milk him for everything he had. 

“Relax, you can handle it,” he chided with a tsk. “I’ve seen you take more than this, sweet girl. You’re stronger than you think. Tell me how badly you want to cum,” he groaned as you clenched harder around him. You were half scared he would pull back and deny you once again, but also half scared he wouldn’t and it would be over. He rubbed at your thighs, admiring how mouthwatering they were coated in your arousal. “Beg for it. Beg for me to let you cum.”

You felt the tears begin to sting the back of your eyes and you steeled yourself long enough to whisper through your moans, “Please, Sylus. Please let me cum, baby. I’ll do anything, just please…”

“Anything, hm?” he questioned, obvious interest in his tone as he leaned down and sucked lightly on your clit, replacing his thumb. You gasped as he rolled his tongue over the sensitive nub. Your legs shook fiercely and you cried out. Pulling back, fingers and all, he stood over you. The damn tease… His eyes never left yours as he deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, then his pants, rolling them both off and letting them pile on the floor. He leaned down and extended himself over you until your lips met in a passionate kiss. “If you’ll do anything, how about you stay true to your word by cumming around my cock?” he teased as he grabbed it and rubbed it through your slickness. 

“Yes, please,” you sighed against his lips, seeing this as him conceding as long as you came wrapped around him. His lips curved into a dangerous grin at your response, pushing inside with agonizing slowness. He groaned.

“Fuck, you’re so tight and wet, I don’t even need to work it in,” he moaned appreciatively as he drove into you with one powerful thrust, no longer able to torture you with slow pumps. Once he was fully seated, he kissed you tenderly as began to move, rubbing his pelvic bone over your clit with every thrust. You whimpered, feeling the tears fall from your clenched eyes as the warmth began to spread again.

Sylus smiled down at your beautiful face, eyes clenched tight with tears trailing down your cheeks. Perfect… She is so perfect. “So beautiful, baby. You’re trembling. You’re so close, aren’t you, pretty girl?” he rubbed your hair with one hand to soothe you and wiped at your tears with the other. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence, so you only answered him through an eager nod and whimpers. “Hm, I know, baby. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” Sylus sped up, needing to see you lose yourself in pleasure. Lose yourself while clenched so tightly around him.

This was his favorite part, of course. After repeatedly bringing you to that edge, but pulling back before you could fall, you would always be so wound up that when the orgasm finally came, it would make you delirious with pleasure. He loved watching you as you finally crashed over the edge he kept you from and your face would contort in utter rapture, crying out his name and clenching so tight around him he’d have no choice but to follow you. He shook his head to focus on the present and ground against you to help you to reach what you’ve been begging him for. 

You whimpered as he gave his permission. You let go, no longer holding yourself back. The warmth in your tummy became an inferno as his thrusts became harder, rubbing your clit with his pelvis and the head of his cock jutting against that sweet spot inside you. You were so close. Just a little more pressure… “Please…” you begged on a needy sob. Sylus kissed you harder as he felt his own release building. He wrapped his arms around you to pull you up slightly in his arms, holding you so that you hovered over the bed as he pounded into you, holding you both up with his free hand on the mattress. The new angle had him going impossibly deeper, rubbing your clit against him with an intensity that finally pushed you over the boundary he had carefully pulled you from so many times. Your nails raked over his shoulders as you cried out. “Sylus! Yes!”

“That’s my good girl. Cum all over my cock. Fuck, you feel so good, baby… so tight,” he praised with a loud groan, rutting up into you as his own orgasm crashed over him. His grunts filled your ears, and it was his previous words coupled with them and his unrelenting ministrations that made your toes curl. Your body convulsed as wave after wave of pure bliss spiraled over your entire body. Your back arched into Sylus as his cum filled you, his thrusts not wavering as his body shook, ensuring he extended your pleasure as long as possible. 

Eventually, your cries subsided into soft, shuddering breaths as the tremors in your body slowly dissipated. Sylus sat back on his heels, holding you tightly the entire time you came down from your high, rubbing his hands down your back as you stayed wrapped around him. When your shaking stopped, he stood up from the bed. You stayed clutched to him as he walked to the washroom and started a bath. Sylus being Sylus, he added in his favorite epsom salts and relaxing bubble bath as the water filled up steadily. 

“My love, are you okay? I’ll hold you all night if you need, but I want to clean you up and take care of you. You did so well, but I know that had to be draining. Let me wash you then I’ll hold you so you can rest,” he whispered, rubbing his hands down your exposed ribs from where your arms were clasped like a restraint around his neck. He could feel your grip wavering and knew you were going to be out like a light as soon as your head laid down on his chest. You relented, loosening your grip in your legs around his waist as he wrapped his arm around your back and the other under your knees to lower you into the water. You sighed as you relaxed into it. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of everything,” he said and kissed the top of your head. Methodically, he washed your body, almost like he was worshiping. He took care to be gentle around the sensitive junction of your thighs, kissing your shoulder when he lightly passed over it. He took a cup and filled it with water to run over your hair and began to wash it with his shampoo. She’s going to smell like me… he smiled to himself as he massaged your scalp. After washing it out, he combed through your hair with his fingers coated in conditioner. 

Sylus made sure to take extra good care of you after long sessions like the one today, diligently washing you, feeding you, massaging sore areas, or simply holding you so you know how much he loves you. After fully washing you and drying you off, he carried you back to the bed and laid you down among the mass of pillows and plushies you had “adopted” (as you put it). So beautiful... He smiled down at you, showing you all the love and tenderness he held in his heart for you. You smiled back sleepily and reached out for him to join you. He climbed in and gently pulled your head to his chest, rubbing his hand over your thigh in invitation for you to put it over his to rest. 

You snuggled into him as he kissed your head. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered as you felt yourself beginning to drift off. Your speech slurred as sleep dragged you under. Sylus tightened his arms around you, his muscled chest hugging your cheek. 

“I will always take care of you, my love. You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine. I love you, sweetie. Rest.”

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter six:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: nsfw (masturbation (f. receiving), praise kink, fingering, dacryphilia, overstimulation, softdom quinn).

➴ word count: 4.6k

💌 from me to you: i’m sorry if this is terrible. wrote a line and then took a 30 minute break every time but hey! i’m trying my best!!! also thank u soooo much for 300+ followers i love all of u so much i hope u can feel the forehead kiss i’m giving u rn 😚 enjoy!

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

THE ARENA was packed with people, most of them wearing the Canucks jersey.

It was game night, and Quinn made sure you and Victoria had tickets, with the view you had asked for— perfectly near the Canucks players.

“Brock looks amazing,” Victoria whispered in your ear, and you giggled. “No, like, seriously.”

You wanted to tell her that you weren’t looking at anyone but Quinn. He was standing there, wearing his jersey and throwing the puck around while skating with Miller by his side. He looked stressed, but you knew that he always got anxious before a game.

You debated a lot about coming or not, even if Quinn had been the one to invite you and even if you weren’t exactly known for telling him no. But lately, every time he texted or called, you felt your hands getting sweaty, your heart beating faster and your stomach filling itself up with butterflies.

Everything that you swore you would never let happen again.

“Do you think they’ll win?” Victoria asks you, shoving a handful of popcorn inside her mouth.

“They’re on a winning streak so maybe?” You shrug. “I’m terrible with sports.”

“Ain’t that right,” she laughs. “The only thing that makes hockey interesting are the hot players.”

“And the fights,” you add, munching on your Snickers bar. “I love when they take off their gloves and start punching each other.”

“To me that also categorizes as a hot thing.”

“Fair point.” You nod.

The game went by in a blink of an eye, which surprised you. You thought that because you weren’t really interested in hockey, it would suck to sit there for two hours and watch men skating around, throwing a puck here and there. But by the end of it, you were sweaty and tired from all the screams you let out whenever someone from the other team got in the Canucks way.

You and Victoria got out of your seats, chatting about the game and how happy you both were because the Canucks had won 4-2. Quinn had scored two goals and you were ready to engulf him in a bear hug.

“I think they’re changing but we can wait at the VIP section,” Victoria suggests, walking you through the place like she owned, which was one of the things you loved the most about her; her confidence. “I hope they have snacks and hot dogs.”

“It’s a VIP room, baby, not a restaurant,” you laugh, secretly hoping for the same.

“Either way, I hope there’s food there, I’m starving.”

“We just ate a bowl of popcorn, chocolate and a family sized bag of Ruffles.” You point out, patting your belly over your shirt. “Plus the Coke.”

“It was diet, so it doesn’t really count,” she taps her temple with her index finger. You laugh, doing the same. “Girl math.”

The VIP section was, in fact, full of food. And drinks. And players' wives, girlfriends, families and friends. You felt like a fish out of water but sucked it up either way, texting Quinn and telling him you were waiting for him.

It took a while for him to get there, thirty minutes to be precise, but you knew that the games’ after hours weren’t exactly a chocolate covered strawberry, and with Quinn being the captain, he had to answer dumb questions and talk to interviewers.

But then, Garland opened the door and started yelling about the winners being in the area, which made you laugh.

“Hey, there, cutie,” he smiled at you, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. “Missed that pretty face. Did you see me out there? Nailed it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile awkwardly. “Congratulations?”

“Boo, you didn’t even try to sound excited.” He childishly pouts, poking your cheeks.

“That’s because you’re not exciting, C,” Quinn’s raspy voice fills the air, and it’s almost palpable how all the attention in the room immediately goes to him. “Get your hands off her, come on.”

“Aye, aye Cap.” He kisses your cheek before leaving you alone, dragging Victoria with him.

You don’t even think about helping her because all you can see is Quinn standing in front of you, wearing a burgundy suit with his wet hair falling down his face. He looks so fucking good.

Cocking your head, you smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Cap,”

“Hey there, Mads,” he leans down, kissing your cheek lightly.

You think for a second before standing on the tip of your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hand find your waist instantly, like a magnet.

“Congrats on the win,” you whisper, not really wanting to let go. “You played really well.”

“Yeah?” He whispers back, pushing you away just so he could see your face. He smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, letting him go. Looking around the room, you notice that some people were staring at the two of you, and you blush. Right, you remind yourself, we’re not alone. “Hum. Wanna go eat something?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” he shrugs, looking around. “At home, though.”

“You’re inviting me over?” You chuckle, running your fingers through your hair.

“I am, yes.” He nods.

The little Madisons inside your brain start running around, pushing the danger button again and again while yelling “abort mission!” to each other, but you’re still human, and weak in the flesh.

“We can pick Bella up, if you want,” he offers, putting his hands inside his pockets.

“There’s no need to, she’s at my neighbor’s house,” you tell him. “She befriended Buttercup, Mrs. Fernandez cat, and now she asks me to let Bella stay there whenever I have to come home late.”

“Smart girl, isn’t she?” He checks the time on his watch, and makes a tsc noise with his mouth. “If we go now we’ll still catch my favorite pizza place open.”

“Greasy pizza for dinner? Isn’t that all models’ dream?” You joke, watching as he laughs softly.

“Quinn,” someone calls him, making him frown.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he sprints to the other side of the room, talking with another man wearing a suit.

You could see Victoria in the other side of the room between Garland and Boeser, looking like she was having the time of her life. She looked like the ice cream part of an ice cream sandwich, the thought making you cover your mouth with your hand to hide your laugh.

Quinn really didn’t take long, walking back to you and placing his hand on your lower back, like he always does.

The drive to his place was long and tiring, but you managed to make it faster with your remarks about the game. And Quinn listened to you, replying only when you were laughing so hard you couldn’t continue speaking.

Quinn’s house was still the same as the last time you’d been there, which felt like a lifetime ago. The three bedroom house was still only furnished with basic furniture, no pictures besides one with his family from when he got drafted.

“Can I shower while you order the food? I think I’m disgusting.”

“Not really. You still smell like a vanilla sundae to me, but sure.” He answers mindlessly while he taps on his phone, probably dialing the pizzaria’s number.

You shower in the same bathroom you showered the last time you’d been there and when you leave, you find Quinn’s clothes on the bed, also like last time. You smile, putting on his weirdly oversized shirt and boxers, leaving the shorts exactly where they were because you knew that they wouldn’t fit you anyway— and the shirt covered Quinn’s new boxers just fine.

You walked back to the living room, finding Quinn standing in the middle of it, with the TV on, watching the game from just hours ago.

“You played well,” you start, sitting on his couch with your legs crossed.

“Thank you,” he smiles, pointing at the unopened red wine bottle sitting on his coffee table. “Thought we should celebrate.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course we should!” You jump out of the couch, headed to his kitchen cabinets looking for wine glasses. “Uh. I just remembered I don’t know where your things are.”

You open the cabinet either way, mentalizing that it shouldn’t be so hard finding two glasses of wine. Only to hear Quinn’s low chuckle, and his body behind yours— his right hand holding you down by your waist and the other one reaching for the glasses inside the cabinet on your left.

“I like to keep them out of my own reach,” he jokes, but you don’t even think about laughing.

Not when his crotch is perfectly aligned with your ass, his hand hot and steady on your waist, his hard chest brushing your back. It’d been brief, only enough time for him to reach the glasses and pick them up, but it’d been enough for you to feel all over the place again.

“Maddie?” He calls you, and you realize you have been standing there for a few seconds now.

“Oh, right,” you smile awkwardly and walk back towards the living room.

While Quinn poured both of you wine, you contemplated what you should do.

Well, fuck my childhood best friend isn’t a thing I should do, you remind your stupid brain, who sometimes liked to conjure images of what fucking Quinn Hughes would look like for you.

The risk of fucking everything up was high and the risk of falling in love with him was even higher. Quinn wasn’t a hard person to love, and with the way he treated you? The way he was ready to hand you anything on a silver plate? It would be like breathing underwater. Impossible.

Thankfully, your mood didn’t take too long to recover, and after an entire bottle of wine and three slices of pizza, you were back at it.

“The worst thing is,” you started, helping Quinn tidy the kitchen and putting away the dirty dishes. “One of the girls sitting next to us was extremely obsessed with you. I swear, she spent the entire two hours shouting your name even when you weren’t there.” You laugh, remember how Victoria threatened to smash her head against the glass.

“I get that a lot and I already told you, I don’t get the appeal,” he shrugs, placing the remaining pizza slices inside a container and tossing it inside his fridge. “Plus, I’m not interested in puck bunnies. They’re not really my thing.”

You gasp, making Quinn stop what he was doing to stare at you. “Does Quinn Hughes have a type?”

“That’s not what I—”

“You do!” You gently place the wine glasses inside of the dishwasher, closing it afterwards. “What is it?”

He laughs, closing the fridge door. “Madison, I don’t have a type.”

“Of course you do. So that’s why you’re one of the few hockey players I know that rarely makes it to dating gossip websites.”

“You’re being insane.”

You shush him with your hand.

“Let me think,” you tap your chin with your index finger, really putting your brain to work. “Okay. Maybe you’re like Jack who’s into musically inclined blondes?”

“No?” He raises his eyebrow. “And since when does Jack—”

“Okay, then maybe you’re like Luke and like frat girls?”

“That doesn’t even sound legal. I’m twenty five.”

“You’re twenty four, we’re not in October yet,” you remind him, trying to think of other types of girls. “What about redheads—”

He gently places his hands on each side of the counter, locking you in place. He cocks his head. “Why is it so important for you to know who I’m into or who I’m not?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you bite your tongue, contemplating what you were about to say. But fuck it, right? You could blame it all on the alcohol later, even if you weren’t even tipsy. “Perhaps fifteen year old me would like to know if she’d have a chance with you.”

He frowns. “Fifteen year old Madison? Not a fucking chance. You were a child.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you roll your eyes. “If you don’t think I’m pretty just say that.”

He rolls his eyes again, mimicking your action.

“I didn’t say that,” he clicks his tongue, blue eyes looking down at you, moving around your face. “Ask me what I think about twenty-two year old Madison.”

You gulp, tilting your head back and staring at him in the eye.

Danger, mayday, Madison, get the hell out of there.

“What,” you whisper, licking your lips mindlessly. “What do you think of twenty-two year old Madison?”

“I think you’re perfect,” he whispers back, stepping closer to you, forcing your head to tilt back again so you could maintain eye contact. “I still think you’re the sweetest person to ever walk on Earth, and I’m going insane over the fact that you’re this close to me and I can’t fucking move a finger.”

His statement shocks you, making your eyes double in size. “Quinn—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Ever since you got back here, ever since I saw you again after fucking seven years,” he steps away from you, running his fingers through his hair in a frustrated move. “You’re— God, you’re everything and you don’t even realize it.”

“I— Well,” you stutter, not even sure of what you could say. Hey, funny story, I want you to kiss me, like, right now.

“You wear my shirt like you’re proud to, you kiss my cheek every time we say goodbye to each other, you drive me absolutely crazy because I know you don’t care about yourself enough,” he calls you out, and you look somewhere else, embarrassed. “But the worst part is watching other guys lick the floor you walk on and not being able to do anything. The even worse part is looking at your lips whenever you wear those glittery lipstick things and not being allowed to kiss the hell out of you.”

“Quinn,” you breathe, leaving the kitchen like you couldn’t stand there anymore, pacing around his living room back and forth. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. We cannot—”

“We cannot what?” He walks towards you, only stopping when you’re toe to toe with each other. “Tell me you don’t want this, Maddie, and I’ll stop. I’ll pretend I never said anything and we’ll just be friends. But fuck,”

“We can’t do this,” you shake your head. “We’re friends. We cannot ruin everything just because we want to fuck each other.”

He smirks. “I never said anything about fucking.”

You feel your cheeks getting warm, and you bite your lips, hiding a smile.

“This is a bad idea. You know that, right?” You whisper, placing your hands on his chest. “Like, a really bad idea.”

“We’re both grown and it seems that we both know what we want,” he mumbles back, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear and holding your chin up. “Do you want this, Maddie?”

Realistically speaking, you’ve been wanting this ever since you realized you could like Quinn as something more than just your best friend. You’ve been wanting this ever since you realized that no one would ever treat you as good as Quinn did. You’ve been wanting this ever since you saw him again for the first time in seven years, looking gorgeous and extremely, dangerously hot.

You do want this, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else. But things could get complicated and… losing Quinn wasn’t something you were interested in doing.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper, watching as his chest goes up and down beneath your palms. “I can’t lose you. If this goes wrong, then, then—”

“Madison,” he kisses your forehead, interrupting you. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” you confess. It was true, and even if you lied, Quinn knew you like the back of his hand.

Or at least he used to.

You weren’t prepared for how his lips would feel against yours. Or how he’d place his hands on your lower back. Or how his kiss would feel urgent and needy, making you whimper inside his mouth. Quinn kissed you like he was hungry for something only you could give him, making your knees weak and your breath quicken, the fabric of his shirt feeling soft under your touch.

You ran your hands through his hair, moaning with pleasure because you had finally gotten what you wanted. And just like your predictions, his hair felt soft, with you gently running your hands through his scalp.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air and resting your forehead against his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumble, inhaling his sandalwood scent. “We’re friends, Quinn.”

“I know. And I still want you just the same,” he grips on your waist, hard. You were sure that it would leave a mark on your skin and just the thought of it made you go crazy. “And there’s no going back now, baby.”

The pet name slipped past his lips, the lips you’d kissed so bruisingly just a few seconds ago, making you whimper involuntarily. The wetness between your thighs was just a tiny hint of how much you actually wanted him.

“Let me help you out, hm?” He kisses your lips again, his stubble scratching your face lightly, making you remember where you were, what you were doing and with whom. “Let me make you feel good, Maddie.”

“Please,” You plead, trying to even your own voice. You sounded needy and helpless, but you had too many things going on inside your head at the same time for you to actually start acting like yourself again.

He only hums in response, showering your face with kisses while he guides you to his huge, brown couch. He sits down first, opening his legs and looking up at you, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

“If you want me to stop, Maddie, just tell me, and I will,” seriously, he reminds you, kissing the tip of your finger. “I don’t care how much I’m enjoying what we’re doing, if you want me to stop, you say so.”

“M’kay,” you whisper, nodding with your head.

He mimics your action and moves on with his hands, removing your— his— boxers, slowly pulling them down, until they meet the floor with a soft thud. Then he helps you remove your legs from the holes, the right first and then the left, his big, warm hands on your thighs making you feel wetter.

He pats the spot between his legs, silently asking you to sit there, with your back against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

He gives you goosebumps as he slowly trails a path down your neck with his lips, making a wet sound whenever his mouth touches your burning skin. His hands keep going up and down your thighs, slowly lifting your— again, his— shirt to expose half of your belly and your most intimate part for him.

“Place your heels on the edge of the couch, pretty.”

You couldn’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment as you did what he said, sliding your feet apart until your legs were spread wide apart. Sex had always been something boring to you and you preferred to do anything else other than let a guy fuck you.

But with Quinn things were already so different. You felt close to him, not only because you were literally on his arms, sitting between his legs, no. Truth be told, Quinn already owned your heart, and getting him to touch you like this was heavenly, but also extremely embarrassing.

You moan as his right index finger runs up and down through your slit, barely touching your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby,” his whispers, voice filled with desire, making you shiver inside his arms. “Who got you so worked up?”

“You,” you breathe. “You did, Quinn.”

“Mhm, that’s right, aren’t you just so sweet, baby?” He chuckles, inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you involuntarily try to close your legs, only to have his left hand holding them apart. “Do you think you’re sweet all over?”

“Quinn.”

He thrusts his finger inside you, finding your spot almost immediately, the wet sound of sex helping the blush on your face grow. Then, after teasing you for a while, he removes himself from you, bringing his index to his mouth, licking the wetness away.

Your face was burning, you wanted to run away and never come back, and it was even worse when you caught the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You are,” he whispers, tightening the hold on your thigh and inserting his finger in your hole again, only to take it out after a while. “See it for yourself.”

You were going to die. That was it. Here lies Madison Carter, the girl who thought she could handle Quinn Hughes.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” he instructs, his raspy tone reaching your ears and making your stomach warm. You slowly part your lips, wrapping them around Quinn’s finger, tasting yourself for the first time in your life. And maybe it was just the power of his words inside your mind, or maybe you were too horny to think correctly but if you closed your eyes and searched inside of your taste buds for a minute, you’d actually see that— it was, indeed, sweet. “Good job, baby.”

You whimper around his finger. Quinn slips two fingers inside your pussy, with little to no resistance with how wet you were. His fingers start up a quick finger fucking that echoes wetly in the living room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cheeks wet with tears you didn’t even know you’d shed.

He’s fast, his palm touching your swollen, needy clit every time he thrusted his fingers into your hole, making you moan loudly, not even caring about the late hours. Your left hand grabs Quinn’s left arm, probably hurting him with how strongly you were holding him but you didn’t care—

You had always been easily overwhelmed and with how much Quinn had teased you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Quinn, I— fuck,” your words get interrupted when you feel a third finger trying to get past your tight entrance, a loud moan coming out of your mouth when it succeeds. The stretch making your pussy hurt so freaking good, tears decorating your face like paintings in museums.

Quinn curls his fingers inside of you, making you slightly lift your hips, surprised with how much pleasure he could give you with just three fingers.

“I’m close, oh my god, Quinn, I’m—” overwhelmed with thoughts of QuinnQuinnQuinn, you sit back on the couch, once again trying to close your legs, and, once again, being unsuccessful.

“You can take it, baby, come on, give me what I want.” He shamelessly opens your legs more, thumb sliding left to right on your clit, making you gasp and whimper incoherent words, babbling nonsense that not even the smartest people in the world could comprehend.

When you came, it was like all of your worries went away, the weight in your shoulder ten, a thousand times lighter. You were crying and you probably looked like a mess, but thinking that Quinn’s responsible for getting you like this only makes you happier.

He didn’t stop fingering you, though, overstimulating your clit until the very last minute; until he had you crying loudly and screaming in his arms.

“Sh, baby, you can take it,” he kisses your wet cheek, slowly stopping his fingers. “Tell me, baby, you can take it.”

You hiccup, trying to hide yourself inside his arms.

“Say it, sweets, and I’ll let you go.”

“I— I can take it.” You whisper, voice hoarse and tired.

“Good girl,” he removes his fingers from your pussy, promptly sliding them inside your mouth, again. You didn’t need instructions this time, you just did what you knew he wanted you to, licking his fingers clean until there was nothing but your saliva on them. “You’re perfect.”

He tilts your head to the side, kissing your lips and brushing his tongue against his.

“How are you feeling, love?” He asks after he breaks the kiss, calmly covering you with your shirt again, wiping your tears away with his left hand.

Love.

“Like I’m made of cotton candy,” you smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder. You can feel his body moving as he softly laughs, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sleep here tonight,” he offers, and kisses your cheek again. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Well, I don’t,” you chuckle, remembering that you had to be up early in the morning. “Besides, I have my daughter waiting for me at home.”

He laughs, nodding. “Fair point. Then let me take you home?”

“Yeah,” you agree, only to snuggle closer to his body. “Let’s go.”

You end up napping for about thirty minutes before he wakes you up and hands you another change of clothes, helping you change before he wraps his jacket around you and places a Canucks beanie on your head.

“You can never be warm enough.” He says before opening the door, letting you leave first.

On your way home, inside the warmth of his car, you thought about what this would mean to your friendship. Friends with benefits sounded childish, icky, and not something you were looking forward to. And you weren’t lying to Conor when you told him that you weren’t looking for someone.

Even if that someone was Quinn.

“I can hear you thinking.” He jokes, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I just— how do we act now?” You finally say, turning your head to the side and watching his side profile.

“You told Conor you aren’t looking for anyone right now.”

“I did.”

“Well,” he starts. “I’m not saying this because I want you to make a decision or anything like that. But,” he sighs. “I’m not the type of guy who will make arrangements to fuck you during the weekends and move on with my life on the week days.”

You frown. “I don't want that…”

He chuckles. “I know you don’t, baby.”

“But I don’t want a relationship now either. I don’t think I’m… ready.”

This wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have inside a moving car, but oh well. It was too late now. Besides that, you trusted Quinn and you wanted things to be as clear as water between the two of you.

“We don’t have to date,” he adds before parking in front of your building, turning the car off. “What I meant is that I don’t share. If you think we’re better off as friends, then I’ll respect that.”

You blink slowly, tired.

“I don’t… I mean, I wasn’t lying when I told you you ruined the dating experience for me,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers, smelling his cologne on the jacket you were wearing. “I’ve only had two boyfriends before you. And honestly, I’m not interested in sharing either.”

“We can take it slow then, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead, poking your cheek after. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You wanted to tell him that you had been the one waiting all these years, even if unconsciously. But you had already embarrassed yourself enough for the week, so you just gave him the tiniest, shyest peck on his lips and smiled, leaving the car after wishing him a good night.

Later, while you cuddled Bella and talked with her about your day— leaving the naughty parts aside, of course—, you let yourself dream about what a relationship with Quinn would mean.

Even if you knew that if he really got to know you’d become, he would get tired of you in a second.

“One day at a time, right, baby?” You kissed Bella’s head, letting your exhaustion win.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[anisangeldust]

Office Hours 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: Anakin definitely has a favorite student.

Pairing: Prof!Anakin x Student!Fem!Reader

Warnings: READER IS 18!, masturbation (m receiving), mentions of sex, no use of ‘y/n’, undertones of grooming.

A/N: Ik this shouldn’t be glorified, but i also crave for an older man to tell me he’s proud of me and that i’m doing a good job <\3. Also i hope the perspective changes make sense in this!

PART 2 HERE!

Anakin loved grading your work, in fact, he set aside your papers so he could grade them together.

He taught a required course, one that all student who wished to have a degree in anything to do with English had to take and pass. Some hated it, most just did their work and got their grade.

But not you.

You cared, Anakin could tell. you were always on time, you were attentive, a gifted writer, a wonderful person, and a great student. On top of all that, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

At first he kicked himself for his feelings, telling himself it was inappropriate, that it was wrong, how dare he think about one of his students like that! But you were 18 and he was only 32, that’s not so bad right?

The more he stared to feel about you, the more he let himself think about you. How could he not? When you always wore little pink bows at the back of your pigtails, when your lips were always pink and glossy, your cheeks always flushed when he’d compliment your work. You were truly an angel, perhaps a goddess; but that didn’t matter to him.

He’d worship you either way.

The ding of a clock indicated that he had 30 minutes to grade before his next class started, the class you were in, and he dug into the pile of ungraded work like it was the best book he’d ever read.

The last assignment Anakin gave was easy but long, a research paper on a book of your choice. Then you had to take notes on your work and turn in the paper and notebook.

He was giddy with he saw yours, the essay neatly tucked into the cover of the notebook, adorned with a small smiley face on the corner by your name. Anakin saved yours for last, a little treat he reminded himself as the other students’ work was less than savory.

When he got to yours he opened it up and almost groaned with excitement. never would he be over how neat and tidy your handwriting was, nor the fact that you wrote the whole thing in with a crisp, pink ballpoint pen.

Your work was superb, as always.

Anakin could have cum in his pants from how careful your essay was, the time and detail was apparent as he read through your incredible notes. He read both over and over again before the filing in of students reminded him that class was starting soon.

He wrote a few notes on your work and put it in the stack of graded notebooks to hand back.

——

“Brilliant work as always clever girl”

The words seemed to jump out at you, they were right next to the big red 98% on the corner of the essay you just got back from your favorite professor.

Surely it meant nothing, he was a professor, an educator, he was meant to praise those who did good, so why when directed to you did it always feel so different?

‘Maybe i’m just better than the people in here’ was the thought that jumped forward in your mind, of course your professor didn’t have a crush on you! what a silly thought to even entertain!

Yet his glances at you when you left the classroom, and the fixing of his pants when you smiles and waved at him made you think otherwise.

——

Anakin was rock hard when your class got out. the look on your face when you saw your final grade and the little note he wrote was enough to make a lesser man moan out loud. The way you chewed on your nail the rest of the class and jotted down notes had him sitting down so his erection was less apparent.

Naturally, he wasted no time when the day ended.

He quickly discarded himself of his blazer before sitting in his desk chair and unzipping his pants, his aching dick slapping against his stomach as he pulled down his boxers and immediately started rubbing the pad of his thumb over his leaking tip.

He wondered what it would feel like if it was your cunt, the mewls that would erupt from your throat, the desperate movement of your hips as he pounded you into his desk, the wet slapping of your arousal, god he craved you.

After gently teasing himself for a few moments, he fully wrapped his hand around his full length and began to messily jerk himself, your name falling from his lips like a sacred mantra.

The moment felt so good, the feeling of his hand was heavenly against his aching length, it was so good that he began to wonder what he could do to get you to let him fuck you, asking you up front could lead to him losing his job, no.. he needed privacy, he needed to know you wanted it to.

Ropes of cum spurted from his fat dick, the moments of clarity allowing him to think of the most perfect scheme.

——

The flutter in your heart was almost painful, you had ran the moment over and over again in your mind. Double, triple, quadruple checking that you weren’t crazy, that your beloved professor did, in fact, call you sweetheart.

If you were a man you’d 100% have a boner right now.

All you did was mention how you were proud of yourself for your grade on your last assignment, you were not expecting your beloved Professor Skywalker to quip back with-

“I’m proud of you too sweetheart”

-you could’ve cum right there, and you might’ve if you didn’t race out of that classroom like someone was chasing you.

This was wrong, horrible, ghastly. Though he wasn’t married, he had a tendency to ramble during his lectures, he was still 32! a whole 14 years older than you! But no amount of self-scrutiny could stop you from wanting to tangle your hands in his shaggy blonde curls while you rode him like a stallion.

———

The next few weeks felt interesting to say the least.

It seems your professor was un-aware of how much he was affecting you. the semester was coming to a close, so he rid himself of his blazer to prepare for the summer air, dawning only a white button up that displayed his back muscles the way they deserved.

You wanted to rip him apart, claw at his back until it was bloody and raw, suck on his skin untill you were the only thing he could feel, you wanted to destroy him, the only stronger feeling in your system was your want for him to destroy you.

His little notes also changed. It went form standard teacher notes like:

Awesome! or you did great!

to ones you could tell he only left on your paper, adorned in the corner of everything you got back was:

good girl, i’m so proud, i knew you could do it princess

It was getting too much to bare, he even started to touch you, to let his hands linger. Like when he passed you in the library and places his hands on your hips to move by you. It was too much.

He had to know what he was doing right? he had to know that you were rubbing your pussy raw to the thought of him, gridding pillows and hooking up with random boys that had similar mops of curly blonde hair and piercing cobalt eyes. he had to right?

He did.

——

Anakin knew he had you. Weeks of teasing, testing the waters, leading you to him, and you finally took the bait.

When he opened his E-Mail this morning and saw one from you he almost jumped out of his skin. it was professional, just you saying that you’d like to chat about your grades, but he knew, he knew the moment you walked in that you were his, that you’d do whatever he wanted.

It just so happened he was unavailable the rest of the day after you scheduled your office hours.

———

Anakin groaned, he thought maybe he could wait, that he could hold in his desires for after you two spoke, but he just couldn’t. He was uncomfortably. hard, his whole body was shaking from need, and it was still 5 minutes until you had scheduled to see him.

despite his better judgments, he undid his belt and palmed himself through his boxers, it felt so good, his balls were heavy with need and the tiny wet patch indicated that he needed to get off, now.

Yanking down his boxers, he did the same thing he did everytime he was alone with the thought of you, his hand pumping up and down his fat cock. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. he was so deaf, in fact, that he didn’t hear the rattle of the turning knob to his office door.

“Professor Skywal-“ your voice was sweet like velvet. His eyes shot open.

shit.

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2

SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊

a side character, how cute?

well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?

and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.

yes, that's right!

you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.

Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.

So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!

it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.

her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.

pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.

"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."

oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.

ah, the tremendous satisfaction.

and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?

you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?

and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?

just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.

a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"

oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.

"hyenas?! guards—"

"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.

the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.

it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.

times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.

Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.

like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.

plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.

now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.

"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.

not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.

"i suppose, you need help, milady?"

oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.

"milady?"

you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.

"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"

fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.

prince jungwon.

oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.

"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"

"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.

wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."

the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.

your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!

"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.

"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.

not with you!

"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.

you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.

for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.

so what in the actual fuck is this?

"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.

"my apologies?"

"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."

"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.

"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"

"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.

an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.

"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.

"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.

"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"

jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.

"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"

"t-third?"

"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.

oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.

finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."

"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."

"may i ask what is it, then?"

you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"

"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.

"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.

Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"

you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."

"p-prince?

"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"

she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."

"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"

Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.

veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.

facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?

"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.

"ah, i remember now, the prince—"

"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"

"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"

"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"

"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.

right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.

"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"

"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"

ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!

laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"

"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"

"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"

"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.

why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.

"milady?! what's wrong?"

"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"

she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."

an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!

"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."

"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."

"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.

"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?

this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.

your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.

of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.

and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.

you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.

asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?

plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.

"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.

you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.

"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."

he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"

cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"

"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.

"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.

"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"

"b-but?"

"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"

Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.

"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.

hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!

"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.

your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.

right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.

"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.

you can't let him have the upper hand on you.

"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"

the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"

"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.

"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."

an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.

a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...

"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."

"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

[lovrsm]

“ꜱʟᴜᴛ!”

sum: Ferraris golden boy moves over to RedBull Racing Team.

Daughter of the CEO of Red Bull, you’ve grown to love racing, and in the way making new friends. Even if you felt like your world was falling apart, even when you denied it, he was the only one you needed. And there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind about your beautiful self, the way he loves you.

word count:idk, prb 2k

pairing: rb!charles leclerc x horner!reader

warnings: name calling, alcohol, smut f! receiving, first time writing real horny shit!

a/n: sorry for the long intro, I swear it’s worth it😔✋ LOOOL, I WROTE THIS LIKE A YEAR AGOO, and I rlly wanted to clear up my drafts but this is too good to not come out. Yet idk if I have any mistakes, if I do let me know!! Also, checo acting as a dad (#IloveCheco)

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

“and I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

Clink, clink, that’s what our champagne glasses sounded like together.

“Congratulations, what a wonderful year. It’s been a pleasure being with all of you.” Sergio, Checo Perez, made a brief goodbye to your team.

He was leaving Red Bull. Everyone here loved him, and loves him, including yourself. He became quickly your family after seeing him every day for more than 3 years.

“We will miss you” your dad palms his back, making Checo break a smile.

“It isn’t the end yet, you know that boss.” He laughed.

His reasons? Family, everything for him, he couldn’t bare leaving them anymore alone, so he decided after, several years, to leave formula 1. After helping Max to win his championships, he is a fucking legend.

“Well, I won’t leave you alone, I will still drag you everywhere, you know? Even after you leave.” Max and Checo have developed a very special bond, even if social media said otherwise.

“We, wont leave you alone, you still owe me those therapy sessions” I winked at him, he became a very big emotional support for me, believe it or not, he’s got some great advice to give.

“Lovely dinner” I took a picture of all of us with my camera, a goodbye dinner for Checo, and tomorrow, all of the world would see this on the newspaper.

-

“I really don’t know what to do, do you know how many drivers have reached us out in the last 2 hours? I mean, I have a few options but they keep giving me more reasons and… I just don’t know.” My dad was stressed, typing in his computer as if his life depended on it.

“It’s going to be alright, okey? You don’t necessarily need to worry about it right now, we still have a championship to win, you know?” I gave him a cup of tea, just so he could relax a bit.

When something is about work, everything else doesn’t matter. At all.

“We’ll watch your options, alright? I can help you with anything you want” I smiled at him.

“When did you became such a great business woman?”

“You’re my father, of course I’m hardworking.”

-

“Red Bull did it again, Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez, world champion and sub-champion!”

Screams from Max and Checo blasted my ears, P1 and P2, again. Absolutely no mistakes. The internet going crazy. And somehow it all became quiet.

“Who will get that Red Bull seat next year? Will he be a fit to Sergio Perez place?”

Everyone went outside to celebrate, while I stayed so I could hear the TV and media.

what do people want?

“Ferrari didn’t have a great year, let’s hope they both get a better car”

“I agree! Great drivers, such a shame Ferrari has been getting worse every year. What a waste of talent.” The other interviewer said.

Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz appeared in the screen. Both with an obvious forced smile plastered in their faces.

Charles, my secret crush ever since… forever. Was I obvious? Not a single soul knew, well, except him.

-

Charles Leclerc signed in RedBull that was the only thing appearing on my feed right now . Red bull? Bullshit, you mean? What kind of a big lie is that?

Internet was filled with Charles leaving Ferrari for RedBull.

In what twisted universe does that even happen?

I later learned, I am living in that twisted world, and I discovered the great news in social media, and not my own team.

“What do you mean Charles Leclerc, dad? Why wasn’t I even informed about this. Wait, hold on, when did it even crossed your mind?!” I was dignified.

Following around the kitchen.

“I didn’t have to, oh, I do think I need to tell you this, he’s coming to dinner tonight so wear something nice.”

Wear something nice.

Thanks dad, as always, you’re so, so great.

Night time came sooner than expected, if my dad hosts a dinner, even if there’s a million, or just one person coming over, he likes to be extra.

-

Almost time, 8:00 and it is 7:50, all that was missing was the dress. It was placed on my bed. Showing all of it’s beauty.

Navy blue, our color. It was my dream dress.

Light, silky and fancy dress.

I walked downstairs, watching people running and arranging everything, doing just the final touches.

I’ve come to learn, that people arrive late, or just in time. Never earlier.

“Ah, what a beautiful young woman I have here!” Geri, my father’s wife came to greet me.

“You look amazing, I knew that dress would be perfect for you!”

“Geri, you are amazing, seriously. Thank you, and look at you! We both look gorgeous.” I smiled at her and we linked arms, she and I were walking towards the garden, where would be the dinner.

Some big, round, wooden tables were set in the middle. Each seat would have a name, decorated with a white flower in the middle of the plate.

It was easy to find my place. I was at the biggest one of all, where the most important people of this night would be seated.

Lucky for me, his name was right next to my plate.

In a matter of seconds, people started to arrive, old friends, and new faces passed through those doors.

This will be a great night.

“Funny to find you here, it’s been some time since I last saw you…” I rolled my eyes, I (sadly) recognized that voice anywhere.

“Go away Mike.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a big sip out of it. “C’mon princess, where are your manners?” He got too close to me.

“Hey y/n! Your dad was looking for you, like right now.” Max Verstappen here to save my day.

“Oooh that’s unfortunate, I’m so so so sorry Mike, hope to see you later!” I waved him off and quickly moved towards Max who then friendly linked his arm with mine.

“I owe you one.” I sighed. “You owe me much more than 1, little one.” I laughed at him.

We got close to my father, who now had a microphone at his hand.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming here and be with us tonight. A toast for Checo here!” He announced and a light was shining on Checo, standing from his seat.

“It has been a wonderful year, sadly it has to end. And I know I’m not the first to tell you that an incredible young talent will be joining us for next season.”

There he was. Navy suit with our logo on him. His hair was messy yet perfectly placed. He showed his dimples and I’m sure I heard someone behind me moan at his sight.

My heart rate was increasing slowly but surely.

“y/n, you’re going to squeeze all my blood from my arm. Stop.” Max whispered in my ear.

Shit. I basically dug my nails into his arm due to my tiny crush.

“Yeah, It’s amazing to know that I’m to race with RedBull next year. I hope we can achieve everything we’ve dreamed of. Looking forward to race with my lifetime partner, Max here.”

Now the light was on Max and me. I discreetly let go of max so that he could have the spotlight. As Max waved I looked back at Charles.

The dimples in his face showed even more, he was looking at me too.

“I can’t wait to work with these wonderful people, and I hope we have a great year to remember, thank you and enjoy this night!” He raised his glass and so did all.

“Well, I hope we don’t have any inchidents” Max laughed at his own joke. Dad joke I must say.

“Well If you don’t push me off the track I think we’ll be just fine” his voice gave me chills. I felt his chest on my back.

I wasn’t strong enough to turn around.

“Oh, shoot, you hear that? I think P is calling me!”

“No, Max-” I tried to stop him.

Around Charles, I barely have control over myself.

“Uh-huh, yeah that’s P, she wants to go to the bathroom, and she needs food, ok have a great night bye!” He rushed to god knows where.

“You really don’t want to be with me, do you?” He whispered on my ear. Feeling the heat of his breath.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are such a lovely company, mr Leclerc.” I gathered the strength and turned around, and his beautiful green eyes shined at me, making me blush.

“Look at you, could you get any more beautiful?”

He lowered so he could whisper again. “I’ve missed you” I looked around real quick, thankfully Max took everyone’s attention on the other side of the place.

“Not here, Charles.” I whimpered.

“Yes here, I can finally be with you, do you think I would waste any more time pretending to not love you? If you do, let me tell you, you are completely wrong.”

He kept whispering, his hands slowly finding his way to my hips. And mine to his collarbone.

“It’s not even 9pm, Leclerc, this party hasn’t even started” I fighted against my own will to drag him upstairs.

“You know I’ll wait, just for you.” He winked at me, before slowly letting me go and walking away.

“You’re not coming, mon coeur?” Charles turned around to look at me. “If you insist.” I happily walked by his side.

We walked and talked for a few minutes before Mike magically appeared before us.

“Oh not even 5 seconds and you are already like a slut with the new driver” He looked at me with a disgusted face.

“Excuse her? Don’t tall to her like that. Do we even know you?” Charles used a very cold tone on him. And Mike started to stumble on his word.

“Uhm, no, she does, like I was something to her-”

“Was, that’s a key word, pal. Don’t you ever talk to her, no, don’t you ever talk to any woman that way do you understand?”

Now, I can defend myself just fine, but that right there soaked my pants in an unexplainable way.

“Get out of our sight, man.” And he crawled away.

“That was hot.” I whispered and he blushed. “Your mother did raise a gentleman.” I smiled at him and he gave me a cheek kiss.

-

Lost on the moonlit pool, drinking my… 11th (?) glass of wine at 1 in the morning while everyone was still dancing, was weird.

My feet swinging as I drink the last drop of my glass.

I went on a side quest myself just to get distracted for a bit. All the noise was going to hurt my ears if I stayed any longer.

“Here you are, you got lost?” He sat down at my side. Didn’t have to look, his thick accent gave him away immediately.

I took a long breath and rested my head on his shoulder . “Yes, Charles, I’m going to get lost in my own house.” I felt him move beside me. He then had his feet in the pool, just as I did.

I smiled to myself.

“Has anyone told you just how beautiful you look today?”

“You have, more than once.”

“I couldn’t let that slip, you do look beautiful with that dress. It suits you just perfectly.”

He paused.

“But I bet you’d look much better without it.”

I nervously chuckled at his comment.

“You haven’t talked to me in ages, you came back being a driver for my father, and now you want to have sex? Why don’t you already make me your wife?!” I dramatically fell into his arms

“Ages? I talked to you last week!” He showed his teeth to me in a smile. “That was a long time ago! Besides, you never told me about you and RedBull.” I sit straight up again.

“I needed your dad to love me one way or another. How else am I going to get him to approve of our marriage?” He joked.

“You are unbelievable Leclerc.” I stood up, and grabbed my high-heels on my hand, walking back to the party barefoot.

I surrounded part of the pool, my dad wanted to add a bar right beside it, and it was freshly cemented.

He quickly copied my moves, but instead, he went on a straight line to me, and in a step he covered his feet in cement, falling down and thankfully placing his hands before getting worse.

“Shit!” I ran back to help him. I stupidly placed my hand in the cement, the other helping Charles to get up.

“Look, we made a masterpiece! Your handprints and mine in wet cement.”

“And your feet.” I laughed

“And my feet… I really need to wash this off before it gets dry.” I grabbed his hand and he followed my lead.

If my dad sees that I’m getting his new driver to my room…

We rushed through the multitude of people on the garden.

“Ooh we’re going to your bedroom, can’t remember what happened last time there…” he whispered shouted as we were running up the stairs.

I jokingly rolled my eyes at him. We were giggling like children. He kept making dirty jokes and as much as I tried to control myself I’d end up giggling much more.

We got there quicker than I thought. With my clean hand I closed the door and he was already in my bathroom washing his hands, and feet with water. I ran to his side and did the same with my left hand.

“I’m done” I announced and got out of the bathroom. Deciding to do a touch up for my makeup, thankfully nothing was much out of place, but my lipstick faded.

I slowly applied it looking in the mirror, and through it I saw a curious Charles looking at me. “Why do you even apply lipstick?” He slowly walked towards me.

I took my sweet time spreading the color on my lips.

“Cause we are going back, party is not over.”

“But we don’t need to.” He grabbed me by the waist and turned me around to look at him and he swiftly placed me on the desk. A smirk plastered on his face, as he slowly got on his knees.

“Charles…”

He got to his knees, not breaking eye contact with me.

“You know that if you say no, I won’t do anything. But I’m not hearing those words, am I?” He lifted my dress planted wet kisses on my inner thighs, getting closer to my sweet spot. “You’re so fucking wet”.

“They will know we’re gone” I nervously whispered. He looked into my eyes and stopped, his hot breath making me squirm. “That isn’t a no.” He stood his ground.

And I’m not saying “do it anyway”, but we both know he is going to.

I didn’t even have a chance to think about the cons, his tongue was already doing its job.My legs were closing due to the pleasure, but his strong arms kept them wide open while he drew circles with his thumbs.

“Charles…” he hummed in response, sending me shivers all the way up. He kept licking my folds and as I looked down, he had his shiny green eyes looking at me. A hint of darkness in them that made me moan just at sight.

His head between my legs was surely what heaven looked like.

I curved my back and my hand gripping his hair so he could get closer. He groaned and sucked even harder.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy, I missed this.” His hand moved quickly into me, curling his two fingers finding my g spot. “Fuck, Charles!” I screamed his name while cumming all over him, his tongue taking all off of me, as he rose without slowly moving his fingers again. My hips rocking back and forth as he arose, keeping his hand busy. “Too bad that pretty mouth of yours can’t do much right now. I really would love to feel it sucking my dick.” I hummed imagining it and getting even closer to my second climax.

“I'll take care of you, just so my princess can remember who she belongs with.” His lips were on my neck, whispering sweet nothing between kisses and soft biting. My moans filled the whole room along with the sound of his fingers working on her center.

Charles, Charles, Charles…

Each time his name left your mouth his cock got even harder, to the point where it hurt. In a short motion his pants down and without any warning he thrusted into you. You both let out a pornographic scream. If the music wasn’t loud everyone would have heard you two. The sound of your slaps were evident, heat rising, the feeling of his beard in your neck was all too much. Curses along with moans were the only thing louder. He did a final thrust and immediately pulled out, jerking off and finishing in his hand.

“You just washed your hands.” I joked breathlessly, he messed up with my head real bad. “Couldn’t resist” he smiled, gave me a peck and disappeared into the bathroom. I melted on that spot.

“Come on mon coeur.” What I loved about Charles was that he always cared. we got into the bathroom and I washed my hands, in the reflection of the mirror his eyes were already in mine.

“What?” I asked as the blood rushed into my cheeks. “Nothing.” He gently smiled, and his eyes shined to me in a different shade of green.

-

Taglist

@delicatepeanutsublime @ironspdy @architect-2015 @buendiabebeta @dreamergirlatpaddock @lercvlie

[byoldervine]

Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

omg that last slash fic you just wrote..i definitely need a part two where he just goes hard when they finally get to be alone at home or something. to the og person who requested..you a real one. ✨ ( idk if your request open or not, i didn't pay attention jejsjd )

A/n: ik this was from so long ago and I actually forget what fic you were referring to so I hope I got it right but I remember people asking for a part 2 anyway 😋

I’m not sorry for adding angst at the end of all my fics recently either

Warnings: slight angst at the end, smut, age gap, squirting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 1

Slash finished cleaning up the mess you’d made and got himself a glass of water before heading up to bed. He peered into the guest room where you were supposed to be only to find the room abandoned and the door to his room just down the hall slightly ajar.

A smirk tugged at his lips but when he walked in you were already sleeping, one of his pillows tucked between your legs. He didn’t want to wake you so he just crawled into bed behind you, taking the pillow from your legs and pulling you to his side, letting you use his chest as a pillow.

The next morning you woke up back in your bed in the guestroom, Slash's shirt clutched in your hands and held to your chest. You took your time waking up before heading downstairs where London was making breakfast, Slash was helping him the best he could but he didn't know how to cook so he was mostly cleaning the used dishes.

Slash gave you a ride home, his hand on your thigh the whole way and he parked farther away so he could give you a kiss goodbye, promising to see you again, sending sparks through you.

Duff and Susanne could tell you were happier than usual and assumed it had something to do with London. You assured them it wasn't but they still reminded you he had someone already.

You didn't want to tell them it was Slash making you smile, you didn't know how they'd react, you didn't want to ruin this arrangement or their friendships.

You'd be seeing Slash again, he came over to be with Duff, Duff brought you with him to Slash's house because he'd been told a lie that London was there, you'd go into Slash's room and have your fun with his stuff, taking pictures and sending them to him while he spoke with Duff and whoever else was there.

All this time, and you never got to be alone, and Slash did that on purpose. He knew it would be hard to be alone, but he also knew it would drive you insane to not to get touched by him for so long, not after what he did to you. You couldn't make yourself feel like that, no, you needed him.

Finally, he came up with an idea. Technically he thought of it after your first night over, but he finally told you about it.

London would be on tour, Cash was with friends, it would just be Slash alone at home. The perfect chance for the both of you.

"I didn't see London's car in the driveway?" Duff said, looking over his shoulder as Slash welcomed the both of you in.

"Yeah, he's just out getting something, said he'd be back soon." Slash explained, closing the door behind the both of you. He turned to you as you kicked your shoes off. "Why don't you go wait for him?" You paused a moment, more waiting? He was gonna make you go upstairs and wait for him while he sat down here talking?

You couldn't say anything, not in front of Duff. You just nodded with a smile and went upstairs, heading straight for Slash's room to sit on his bed and scroll on your phone until he came to join you.

They had to talk for hours, you didn't care to know what about, all you could think about was how you were going to pay him back when he came up.

Slash waved goodbye to his old friend and closed the door, breathing out a heavy sigh knowing what was about to happen. He made his way up to his room and found you on your phone, you didn't even look up at him as he entered.

"Sweetheart, are you ready?" No response. You were done waiting for him to give you attention, it wasn't good for you, now it was his turn to beg for you. "Come on, don't be like that." He said, making his way onto the bed. He found a spot between your legs and started undoing your jeans.

You wanted to kick him away, make him really beg, but this felt better. He tugged your pants down, you barely lifted your hips to help him. He huffed. "I'm here now, we have all week together, just us." He said, placing a few kisses on your thighs. "Wanna see you make another mess, sweetheart." He was getting nothing from you, you were just staring blankly at your phone.

There was nothing more interesting than Slash looking up at you with those plush lips pursed in a little fake pout, brows knit together to fit the rest of his expression.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Slash was strong, very strong. You often found ways to cuddle up to his arms, thick logs under your head, making his limbs fall asleep was your way of getting back at him after all he'd put you through. Once you were asleep he refused to move, only making the exception to get you into the guestroom, so if your head was on his arm it was there to stay until the blood flow stopped.

Tonight he was actually using the muscle he had for more than just impressing you, though what he did accomplished that as well.

He wasn't going to waste time getting your jeans down your legs, they were tight and clung to your curves. He hooked his hands on the flaps of your fly and pulled, letting them rip right down the hem, causing you to yelp.

He just chuckled at your reaction. "Knew you couldn't ignore me forever." He said with a grin, your jeans now turned into chaps.

"Those were expensive!" You exclaimed, he just rolled his eyes at you.

"I'll get you new ones." He said, snapping the strings to your pink panties. He spoke up again before you could. "I'll get you more of those, too. Lots more." He started littering kisses over your abdomen, slowly moving down.

You set your phone down when he licked through your already wet folds, seeing him rip through fabric so effortlessly was definitely a turn on.

"Not so distracted now, are you?" He mumbled against you, tongue flicking your clit. You gasped and shook your head, eagerly reaching for him and gripping his hair tightly, pulling him closer.

He chuckled lowly against you, tongue swirling around your sensitive bean, thick finger pushing into you and prodding that spot he knew you loved so much. You bit your lip to silence yourself, every time you did Slash gave you a quick slap on your ass, correcting your behaviour. The house was empty, you didn’t have to be quiet.

It still took some getting used to but soon your moans were bouncing off the walls, two fingers in and then he added a third. He wasn’t moving fast, you knew he would but for now he was going slow, taking his time in prepping you, loving you.

Your back arched off the bed, tugging on his hair as you rode out your high on his face, calling out his name as you came.

He pulled away and moved to lay beside you, letting you get a break. He had all week to fuck you, he prioritized you being comfortable over his own needs.

You caught your breath and moved on top of him, a shiver running down your spine when you felt how big he was, rock hard under you and straining against his jeans. “We should do more.” You said, a grin on your face.

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We’ll do more.” His hands went to your hips, guiding you to rock your hips, grinding down on him.

“No, I mean, like…” You chewed your cheek as you thought of a way to say it, your mind still a jumbled mess. You lowered yourself on him till your mouth was right by his ear. “We have the whole house to ourselves.”

He let your words run through his head for a minute. “What exactly are you suggesting, sweetheart?” You smiled widely and moved off the bed, pulling off what was left of your jeans, panties already tossed aside, and you decided to throw your shirt and bra with them, all while Slash stared in awe, a smile spreading over his face.

“We can be anywhere, Slash.” You said, leaning your hands on the bed, letting him eye you shamelessly.

“Anywhere… who?” He asked, eyes flickering to meet yours briefly.

“Anywhere, daddy.” You repeated, wiggling your hips. He inhaled deeply and nodded, getting out of bed and following you through the halls, pulling his clothes off as he went until he was bending you over the kitchen table, hands gripping your hips and holding you in place for him to ram into you, low groans slipping from his lips.

“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? Wanted daddy’s dick so fucking bad, didn’t you?” He asked, not stopping or even slowing his pace as he waited for you to respond.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, s’all I wanted, just wanted you!” Your body bounced up the table, the cloth covering it saving your body from sticking. You swore the table was moving with how hard he was fucking you, scooting a little further with every harsh thrust from him.

His arm snaked around you, lifting you from the table and holding you to his chest, sucking and nipping at your neck, he was just as starved for your touch as you were for his, he was just better at hiding it. He was fucking you like he was in heat, grunting and panting in your ear while your moans and whines echoed off the walls, every wall.

This was the freedom you’d been craving, to love him in the open even if that was his house, it was big enough to count. Whether or not you’d ever be able to tell the world about your relationship was always at the back of your mind, but not right now, not when you were so close, not when his fingers were on your clit and his tip was hitting your sweet spot.

Your knees buckled under you, Slash was beginning to stumble, hold on you tightening as his breaths got heavier. “Fuck, doing so good for me, sweetheart, taking me so fucking good.” He mumbled, grabbing your tit in his hand, his favourite part of you always was your chest. “C’mon, be a good girl and cum for me, make a mess for daddy.” You could already feel yourself coming undone at his touch, his words only pushing you further.

You had to pull away from him and grab the table as you came, gushing on the hardwood floors and crying out for him.

He took a step closer behind you, finishing himself off and spreading his cum on your ass.

Your high lasted longer than his and he watched in amazement, loving every second of it as he took a seat, bringing his hand to your hip and pulling you into his lap as you came down from it. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.” You melted into him, body weak and twitching.

“I-I think I might go first.” You joked, laughing breathlessly.

He shook his head. “You’re young, not some sixty year old with permanent defibrillator.”

You looked up at him, kissing his scruffy cheek. “Is that why you like me?” You asked, kissing him again and again, wanting his lips on yours. “I’m young and pretty, you think you’re gonna die?”

He snorted. “I don’t think I’m dying soon, just… sooner than you.” He saw where you were going and met your lips with his own. You didn’t let him pull away so fast, aching for more and more still.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You said between kisses.

He let out a heavy sigh. “No. I don’t just like you because you’re hot and I want some trophy wife.” You wanted to brush past ‘wife’ but it made you smile, cheeks heating up and he saw it, smiling back at you. “I love you because I love how you are, your personality and your interests, how you treat people… does that answer your question?”

You thought for a moment before nodding, shifting to be more comfortable in his lap. “I love you, Saul.” He kissed you again and lifted you up.

“Go to sleep, love, you’ll need it.”

[starkeygirls]

i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g

chapter 2

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: still working on writing this well - we'll get there when we get there.

wc: 4.1k

warning: none!

a/n: well, i wrote this whole chapter to hate it, start over and then still not be 100% happy with this one. hope this is at least okay! thank you all so much for taking time to read my silly little re-write! as always, please show your appreciation with reblog/comments/etc (reminder that it's really helpful to those who write ◡̈ )

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3

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Thoughts swirled in your head as you laid in your bed, seemingly sending flirty texts to none other than Rafe Cameron. The same Rafe Cameron that spilled beer on you without apologizing. Rafe Cameron, who seemed to fight your friends at every opportunity he could - with or without a reason. The Rafe Cameron who ended up being the reason your commission was so good during a dud week. 

What the fuck were you doing? Watching as the three dots type and turn into a message, one that had the corner of your lips pulled up as you read it. Disgusting. 

You two didn’t speak after that. 

Waking up the following morning, you didn’t respond, and he never double texted. Better off that way, you thought. And it was solidified as you thought back to the party last night. 

You paid no mind to the boy who walked along the beach like he owned it. Your eyes didn’t look for his in the crowd, and you couldn’t help the huff that escaped your lips as he cut you in line for a refill on beer. 

Your head was pounding as you regretted nearly every thought you had to agree going to the party. Your sunglasses hadn’t left your face since you entered work, the lights were far too bright, the music was far too loud, and each and every customer was far too annoying. Typically, Saturday was your favorite day to work, but this was brutal. A part of you almost hoping that your boss would pop in and send you home for being out of dress code. 

JJ’s voice rang through the small shop, your name echoing off the walls and piercing your hungover ears. Pulling yourself from the back room, your eyes rolled behind your sunglasses as he came into sight. 

“You’re so fucking lucky there aren’t any customers in here?” You spat, also happy your shift mate was out grabbing lunch. 

“That’s no way to greet someone in this fine establishment.” JJ teased, eyebrow raising as he turned his attention to the clothing hung neatly in place, pulling it from the rack and holding it up to his body. “What’s the verdict? Fashion icon?” 

“The verdict is you would never buy that because it costs more than a day of work and you would stain it two hours.” You conveniently left out that it was a skirt he was mistaking for a tube top, there really wasn’t a thought in his brain. A giggle escaped your lips as you watched his eyes widen as he looked at the price tag, promptly putting it back on the rack and attempting to smooth it out as if he had never touched it. 

“Anyway,” he started nearing closer to you, taking a glance around the small shop. “We were all meeting up at the dock, we were going to chill, drink some beers, swim a little. When do you get off? It’s clearly extremely lively in here, a real bustling shop.. Would be a shame if you closed early.” His shoulders shrugged, smile tugging on his lips as his brows raised. 

“You know I can’t just close early. I don’t have the power to do that.”

“Please, you’re like vice president here and you work every day, you could pull some strings with Big O.” Your lips pulled into a small smile as you shook your head. 

“I’m assistant manager, I have plenty of days off - in fact, my last day off you were too busy hooking up with some tourist to hangout, might I add, and Mrs. Overton would not like you calling her ‘Big O’, or like if I closed early.” Jeez, when did you become such a buzzkill? After your third hour of being hungover, that was for sure. JJ’s bottom lip jutted out, you wouldn’t shut him down without a fight and he wouldn’t leave willingly without seeing a text to your boss with the request. 

– 

Sitting on the side of the boat as John B drove, you assumed when JJ said “we” he hadn’t meant Kiara, Pope and Cleo, but instead, you found yourself with only JJ and John B. 

“I can’t believe I convinced my boss to close early to hangout with you two..” 

“I have such a way with words.” JJ’s cocky tone was enough to make you roll your eyes and send a middle finger in his direction. In reality, YOU had a way with words. The way you respectfully pointed out that sales had been down that day, in fact, they had been down the last few weeks. If you were able to leave, you could showcase what was on the floor in person, and you would be able to show up to your shift tomorrow with a new outlook on the sales for the week. You strategically left out your raging hangover, that was neither here nor there. Mrs. Overton quickly agreed, saying you needed to enjoy one of the last beautiful Saturdays of the summer before Autumn came in. She was too sweet for her own good. 

“Did you notice Topper didn’t even look at me last night? Sarah was with me-”

“She was hanging on you.” You corrected, JJ reaching out to tap knuckles with you as John B cut the engine, dropping anchor in the middle of the marsh.

“Whatever, we were talking the whole night, and Topper didn’t make a single comment, no dirty looks, nothing.”

“Rafe and Kelce didn’t try anything last night, either.” JJ added quickly, peering over the sunglasses that covered his eyes as he cracked open a beer. You shooed it away as he offered it in your direction. 

“Yeah well, Rafe cut me in line for a beer.” Shoulders shrugging, attempting to grasp at any bit of normalcy from the interaction you and Rafe hadn’t even shared.

“Well shit, call Shoupe. How dare he!” John B teased, JJ quickly laughing at the comment. 

“Why did I agree to hangout with you two today?” Tone teasing, but they were lucky your hangover was dwindling as the time went on. 

“Because we’re your best friends.” John B’s voice was a matter of fact, shoulders shrugging. 

“Maybe Sarah had a talk with them. If you’re seeing her, I can’t see why she would let her brother and his friends fight with you guys.” There was a small murmur amongst the three of you, clearly that must’ve been the answer, right? You were just happy JJ had dropped the teasing he had been giving you, and happy he didn’t know about your late night texting - it still felt like a fever dream.

– 

Floorset day.

It was the worst day, right ahead of shipment day. Having to unpack all of the new clothes, unwrap them, put them in size order and backstock was a nightmare. But you would rather do that than completely rearrange the store and dress mannequins. 

You were fighting with a mannequin arm to try and put it back in its socket, you had already been whacked in the head, nearly tackled by a plastic person, and now you were standing with an arm between your legs, trying to shove the other one on. Letting out a huff as you continued to struggle, you heard the ding of the door. Of course someone had to come in right now. It’s always how it happened. Always when you were on the ladder changing a light bulb, or fighting with the mannequins- they couldn’t just wait ten more minutes to buy some overpriced clothes. Pulling the mannequin arm out of the polo shirt, you placed it on the table, turning to look at the door and who had just come in. 

“Hi! Welcome in! I apologize for the-” You stopped, eyes glancing over Rafe who was looking right at you. Pulling your hair that had clung to your lipgloss, you stumbled over your words. “Uh- apologize for the mess. We just got in some new items.” Taking a deep breath, you smiled. “Let me know if I can help you with anything.” 

He was alone, and if it wasn’t for his behavior, you would have written it off, and turned your attention back to the mannequin, back to the ipad with how the floor needed to be set up. And despite your best efforts to pull yourself from the thoughts of Rafe Cameron that consumed and confused your mind, you couldn’t help but watch as he moved around the store. An internal fight broke out inside of you, wanting to just let the kook do whatever it is he came here for. He had already picked up his items- he came in empty handed so he wasn’t returning anything. Hell, you had told him to let you know if there was anything you could help him with, so why were you still watching? 

You hadn’t seen him in a few days, your last interaction, if you could even call it that, was at the party a few days ago. No texts, not that you really expected any- it wasn’t like you had previously texted him on a regular basis. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to walk in on you manhandling your boyfriend.” He smiled. And you swore your heartbeat picked up. What the hell was going on with you? Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever bullshit Shakespear would have said? Your life was not some cheesy romance movie. 

“It’s okay, I prefer when I have an audience. I think it teaches him more of a lesson.” His lips pulled further into a grin, looking down to the floor in an almost attempt to hide his reaction. He paused by the rack of new items you had gotten in the day prior, eyes flickering to you as if silently asking if he was allowed to look through the racks. “Wait, actually there’s something we got in and I thought of you when I opened it.” You pulled the mannequin arm from between your legs, heels clicking as you stepped closer to him. 

“You thought of me?” His brows raised and you felt a heat take over your face. You did what you did best and ignored his question, eyes trailing down the rack as your finger lightly ghosted each piece of clothing until you pulled the sweater out. 

“So this is similar to that shirt you got before, but the fabric is a little thicker for when it gets colder. This color is a good transition color for going into fall, but-” You paused, pulling out another color. “This one is going to let you transition from fall into winter with the deeper tone. Not to mention you can put a button up underneath it to dress it up and also give you another layer. The style is also going to last you a while since it’s a staple piece, and if you like the color enough, it doesn’t matter what colors are in, you know?” You could feel his eyes on you instead of the sweaters you had pulled out, but once your sales side came out, there was no shoving her away. This is what you were good at, it was how you made bigger commission checks. “I noticed you wear more bright colors when you’re out during the day, assuming the country club? And then you wear darker when you’re with friends or at a party. And don’t flatter yourself with me saying I take note of these things, I like clothes. Anyway, you’re obviously not going to wear this sweater out with your friends or anything like that, it’s cashmere and wool- you would be sweating but I don’t know if you’re really going for pink sweater vibes either.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the second rack. “I think this striped one is so nice. The navy and white stripes but not all the way up? It’s nautical but also just yells fall, paired with some brown pants-” You stopped yourself, almost embarrassed with how much you had rambled. 

You watched as Rafe’s blue eyes scanned the clothing you had tossed his way, along with the newest sweater you had brought his attention to. 

“New shoes I bought have navy on ‘em, right?” His brows furrowed, turning his attention to you. Your face perked up a bit. 

“They do, and if you have the plain white, which everyone on The Eight does,” you paused, pulling at the original sweater you had shown him. “This would go, obviously because they’re white. They go with everything.” 

---

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, but Rafe was now helping you shove the arm onto the mannequin. He had bought almost all of your recommendations, despite the brown pants you reassured would be a good choice. He had nearly laughed in your face, but said he would be back if needed. He would be back when he realized you were right.

“So you’re the only one here today?” The brunet asked, a popping sound happening from the mannequin before he slowly released the arm, it staying in place on the torso. You nodded, arms up, ready to catch the arm should it fall. 

“Yeah, they trust me to run the store?” You laughed, shaking your head as the concept still baffled you. Lowering your arms, you smoothed out your blouse, running your fingers through your hair as you looked around the store. It wasn’t perfect, but it was getting near the end of the day and the last thing you wanted to do was start another project and stay later than you needed to. “I’m not supposed to be the only one working since I lock up and could obviously take something, but I think my boss knows I need the money and I would be dumb to steal and lose my job.” 

He nodded, taking a seat on the arm of a chair. Looking lost in thought, your own mind began to wander. The hour or so you had just spent with Rafe was actually… nice. Throwing different clothes his way, laughing as he huffed in the fitting room, mumbling a few “absolutely not’s” and rolling his eyes as he came out in a few of the ‘older’ styles, as you called them. He had even convinced you to try on a few outfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at one of the combos he had chosen. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt.

It was almost domestic in a way, like the two of you had been friends for years. If you were being honest, the past drama, or whatever it had been was nowhere near on your mind. The way your friends teased you, the way Rafe and his friends had caused more trouble than good in your lives - the only thing you felt was happiness. You never expected to find yourself laughing with Rafe Cameron, never expected to have anywhere near a good time with him.

And now you found yourself locking up the shop, Rafe waiting for you outside as you set the alarm code and locking the back door. Your heels clicked along the cement, and with the fresh air hitting you, that’s when what you were doing really hit you. You were going to be seen out in public with a kook. Not just any kook, but Rafe Cameron. He seemed sure of it, had rattled off the two of you going to Duke’s a small restaurant that you had heard had amazing food, not that you could ever convince any of your friends to go. You accepted without much of a second thought. 

But the second thought was hitting now. 

“Did you want to put your things in your car?” Hands fumbling to put your keys in your purse and grip onto your sunglasses. He nodded as you slid your sunglasses on, he followed your motions, take his own off his head and covering his eyes with the shades. Following him to his car, you slid your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’. While a small bit of worry was coursing through your veins at the thought of getting dinner with Rafe, the last thing you needed was your friends bothering you- or figuring out where you were and making fun of you for actually giving him the time of day.

“You look nice today, you know.” Rafe’s voice was casual as he tossed the large bags into the backseat of his Range Rover. 2022 you assumed, maybe 2020, but there was no way it was any older than four years old. Despite the people you imagined getting in and out of it, it still faintly smelt like new car. You wondered how he kept the smell lingering around for so long. “You looked nice the other day, too. But I don’t know if cashmere is really something you should be wearing in the summer. You’ll sweat.” Oh, so he wanted to tease you now about what you had said to him earlier? Eyes rolling at his comment, you couldn’t help the corner of your lips pulling into a bit of a smile. 

“It’s August, Cameron. It’s basically fall, and it was feather cashmere, anyway.” Your hand waved him off, a light giggle escaping your lips. “But thank you. I’m usually fighting the mannequin in a skirt or dress, but I learned this time.” 

“You mean to tell me that Paul puts up a fight every time?” Of course he remembered you telling him how you had named all the mannequins, because why wouldn’t he? How could he possibly make himself anymore desirable in the moment? He couldn’t- you were sure of it. 

It pained you, if you were being honest. The way he effortlessly made you laugh, and the way you were able to tease each other, firing back at one another. It reminded you of your nights with the pogues, though the sexual comments were yet to be found. He was actually respectful, which surprised you. Was it because he was alone? Why was he alone? Were you just some last resort when all of his friends were busy? You couldn’t think of that right now, no matter the reason, you had already spent time with him, you had already had a good time. You had already agreed to dinner. 

–

Dinner had taken longer than you had expected- but it wasn’t in a bad way. You had actually learned a lot about Rafe, which was something you never thought you would say. That he’s a lefty golfer, which was a bit weird since he was a righty. You learned that despite living in Kildare his entire life, he didn’t have his boating license, and he was allergic to strawberries. You learned he was in the process of helping his dad with his company, but he couldn’t quite get all the trust he had hoped for.

Your cheeks hurt from how long you had been smiling. When was the last time you had smiled that much? You couldn’t exactly pinpoint it, not that it really mattered. 

He smacked away your card as you attempted to tell the waitress to split the bill, a huff escaping your lips as you glared towards him. “I could have paid, you know. At least half.” 

“Could have, but aren’t going to.” He said simply, flashing you a toothy grin. 

“Well, I’ll leave the tip then.” 

“Or, you could let me handle it.” 

A huff escaped your lips, sliding the card back into your wallet, arms crossed against your chest. His lips pulled into a grin as he watched you admit defeat, your motions mimicking that of a child who didn’t get their way. 

“Contrary to popular belief, we can actually pay for our own meals.” Your words were sour as they left your lips, feeling a sense of pity radiate off of him. His brows had furrowed. “If this was some charity case it can stop here.” 

“Woah, woah.” Rafe’s hands found themselves up, confused at this sudden attack after a meal spent with laughter and aching cheeks from smiles. “I seemed to have missed where I insulted you? I think you left the station and took a hard left because where did I insinuate that you couldn’t pay?” 

“When you decided to not even let me tip.”

“I did that as a kind gesture.” He added quickly. “Do you always attack people after they pay for your meal?” 

“Only when they don’t let me tip.” 

“Then I look forward to more arguments in the future.” 

His words shocked you, your hands getting clammy at the thought of seeing him again, of sharing a dinner table with him again. A part of you believed this was just a nice gesture after spending some time together, surely he had just gotten hungry and decided to invite you along as opposed to eating alone. 

Perhaps you were wrong. 

“Thank you.” You finally mumbled, eyes meeting his. Suddenly your rings were the most interesting thing on the planet, toying with them on your fingers as you felt embarrassment creep up at your outburst, though also feeling a flush creep on your cheeks. Thankfully, the restaurant was dimly lit and you were certain Rafe wasn’t able to see the effect of his words. More arguments in the future, please.

The walk to your car was once again filled with laughter and teasing, something that you hadn’t been sure would be possible with someone like Rafe, someone who had always been so different from you and your friends. Someone who didn’t seem to understand the world you came from - not that you could understand his world any easier. As much of a facade as you put up in your fancy clothes, you were still from The Cut. You still had to work, and work hard at that, for everything that came your way. 

But there was something easy about being with Rafe - not that you would admit that to him or your friends. Ever. 

“Well, thanks for the clothing recommendations, still honored you thought about me as you pulled them out of the boxes.” You pushed his shoulder slightly at his words, a small ‘oh please’ mumbled under your breath at his words. “And I’m grateful the server took the knives away before I refused to let you pay.” 

Reaching for your keys, you rolled your eyes at his remembrance of your outburst, you proclamation that yet again, there was a clear line in the sand from where you both stood on the island. That line in the sand becoming more apparent, yet again, as you unlocked your car which was strikingly different from Rafe’s flashy one. He didn’t mention it, but thoughts were once again flying rampant around your mind at just how different the two of you were. 

“No, no. Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to get that arm on without you, and I’ve dying to eat at Dukes. Really, thank you.” Your words were sincere, and Rafe was almost caught off guard by your lack of jokes. He kept it cool, as he had the whole time you spoke to him, in fact, as he had every time you spoke to him the last few days. A part of you wondered if that was just who he was, or if he was better at hiding his emotions than he lead on - at least with your friends. 

As the two of you approached your car, you half waited for him to lean against the door, for the two of you to keep speaking for another hour. And a part of you almost wanted it. 

“See you around?” He offered, an easy exit. 

“See you around.” You confirmed, reality creeping in as you watched him nod, tapping the top of your car. Rafe offered you a simple ‘get home safe’ before turning on his heels and heading in the direction of his car. 

Climbing into your car, you sat there for a moment, the whole day swirling around your head. You drove home with the radio on low, still trying to understand how you had really ended up at dinner with Rafe in the first case. 

Not a date. You kept repeating to yourself, because while you had known of Rafe Cameron all your life, the Rafe Cameron that had sat across from you at dinner was brand new. Pulling into your driveway and making your way to your room, you finally pulled your phone from your bag, taking it off Do Not Disturb. Your phone flooded with messages from your friends, but none from him.

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

taglist: @p0gue420@khaisdrz@marrleyss@sadgirlxangel@alorsxsturn @hoelesslyt @mattyskies @percysley @eolsens @saintsir4n @honeybee270

[licorice-tea]

I Think I Love You!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader, Platonic Straw Hats & reader

Content: Strawhat!reader, cursing/strong language, kissing, Law has trouble with accepting his feelings, reader is a schemer and plotter fr, misunderstandings / miscommunication but more funny than angsty, fluff, idiots in love <3

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is a song fic based on “I Think I Love You!” by the Partridge Family lol, so the indented parts are song lyrics! also i wrote this between like 2 and 5 am… please forgive me for any grammar mistakes😭

This morning

Law cannot stand being a guest on the Thousand Sunny. He wakes up in the library- he must have fallen asleep there last night- and can already hear shouting from above deck. Why are they causing such a commotion this early on in the day? To him, the reason is simple: because the Straw Hat Pirates are inarguably the loudest, most annoying, chaotic bunch of-

thump thump thu-thump thump… knock knock!

Pushing the door to the library open with your back, you carefully turn while entering the room to reveal a serving tray in your hands.

Your voice rings out in the mostly silent room- save for the noise coming from the deck of the Thousand Sunny. “Hey, Law? Sanji made coffee for the girls and I, so I had him make you a cup t- oh.”

You smile to yourself upon seeing the ally captain, Law, fast asleep at one of the library desks. (Or at least, he looks like he’s asleep.) Wordlessly, you set the tray down beside him.

“He looks cute like this,” you think, “calm.”

On your way out, you pause and grab a sticky note from a drawer in another desk. You decide to jot down a little note rather than wake him. But, unbeknownst to you, Law is already awake and staring at your back.

Ok, so… there might be one exception to his feelings of contempt toward the Straw Hats.

And maybe it’s because he wants to let you fulfill your kind mission, or maybe he just panics, but when you turn around he closes his eyes again. You stride back across the library to his desk makeshift bed, and stick the note on the tray as quietly as possible. Law can feel the soft exhale of your breath fanning over him, knowing you’re probably smiling. Soon after, he hears the door open and close softly, and decides it’s safe to sit up and open his eyes again.

I woke up with this feeling

His tired eyes scan over your words with the tiniest hint of a smile: “Sanji made coffee! + There’s milk and sugar in separate cups, b/c I’m not sure how you like it. -y/n :)”

To think, you went out of your way to ask that dumbass cook to make a cup for him, too? Then you had arranged it so neatly- and written the sweetest goddamn little note… Well, it was really just a simple explanation of the tray sitting before him, but it was cute because it came from you. He knew you wrote it out of care and concern for him, not to mention your own kindness. And- as he allows his mind to wonder while staring at his untouched coffee- he thinks that maybe you did it out of love.

“Wait, no, that’s crazy.” All this time around Straw Hat and his crew must be getting to him. Law tries to remedy his outlandish idea that you might feel for him the way he does for you by starting on the coffee you brought him. He doesn’t usually take milk or sugar in his coffee, but since you went out of your way, he adds a splash of the former and a small cube of the latter. And suddenly, his mind is wandering again…

What a kind thing to do for someone. This makes him feel sure of his previous notion once again- that you just might love him. You have to. Because he’s falling in love with you, slowly but surely, and…. oh. Fuck. He loves you.

Law curses himself. Realizing he’s falling in love is NOT how this day should start. Or any day, for that matter.

I didn’t know how to deal with

Though he got at least 6 hours of sleep (which is around 3 more than usual for the surgeon), and drained his coffee cup, Law’s head is aching. It’s a result of stress, most likely. Because, ever since he came to the terrifying realization that he’s falling for you, he can’t stop thinking about it (love, you, etc.)

Your smile is one of his favorite things, for example. It ranges anywhere from bright (like on the night he cracked a single joke while the two of you kept watch from the crows nest, and suddenly you outshone the stars while laughing) to sweet (when you accept a compliment from the love cook with a shy expression), with at least a dozen more variations.

And your eyes… God, he needed to stop thinking about you. He can barely concentrate now; what did he even plan on doing today?

Law decides then, that if he’s to get anything done at all, he’ll need to push all thoughts of you to the backburner.

And so I just decided to myself

“This is a foolproof plan,” Law thinks to himself, “one of my best yet.”

He’s most definitely lying to himself, but is it really lying if the liar themself believes the lie?

“Shit. Even that doesn’t make sense.” Whatever, he just needs to concentrate on something- anything other than you.

So Law, stubborn as ever, uses this trait to his advantage by becoming dead set on not thinking of you at all. He does so by ignoring you when you pass by each other in the halls of the Thousand Sunny, not meeting your eye when you offer a friendly smile over dinner, even straight up ignoring you once when you knocked on the door to his room. He knows it was you because you have this habit of making a short tune out of knocks-

No! He absolutely can’t think of you. Law has already made up his mind, and under no circumstances can he backtrack.

I’d hide it to myself

Law is very obviously hiding something, you’re just not sure what.

It’s like his demeanor toward you changed overnight. Before his switch up, the two of you had been spending a large portion of your days together. And sure, there aren’t many people to choose from for company when you’re at sea, but you took pride in the fact that Law still wanted to be around you.

It had taken a little time for the Captain of the Heart Pirates to open up at first- which you didn’t mind at all, some people are simply more reserved than others- but once he did, your purely physical attraction to the man grew into a head spinning crush. So, once you gained the confidence, you began flirting and showing him how you felt in careful ways.

And it had seemed like it was working! He engaged in meaningful conversations with you, started sharing sly compliments and jokes and looks, would always sit beside you at dinner- or directly across from you if both adjacent seats were taken- and didn’t seem to mind trading in his late night reading for keeping watch from the crows nest with you. All signs had pointed to him at least thinking of you as a friend, if not reciprocating your feelings for him.

So why the hell is he ignoring you all of a sudden? Whatever the reason, you intend to find out.

And never talk about it

After consulting with your team (Nami, Usopp, and Robin- the most emotionally intelligent people and/or those with the most relationship experience on the crew), you decide to confront Law. “It would be best to be straightforward and honest,” is the consensus the four of you came to.

But, it proves to be harder than you thought since he is still avoiding you. You’ve taken to hanging around the kitchen because everyone has to go there at some point, as everyone gets hungry or thirsty, but Law never shows. How is he getting his morning coffee if he never goes to the kitchen? It bewilders you; how he’s managing to sneak by you on your own ship. (On the second day of trying to catch him, you realize that he can, in fact, use his devil fruit abilities to avoid walking around the ship and simply teleport into the kitchen instead.)

The next day, you decide to hang around inside the kitchen. Sanji doesn’t mind one bit, and you think that Law is sure to pay a visit at one point or another.

And he does! You don’t even have to wait long, because early in the morning- around 6:30 am or so- he teleports in with a flash of blue light and greets Sanji with a nod. However, he doesn’t take notice of you sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Just as I suspected.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for your sleuthing skills.

Law walks to the counter to grab a mug and pour a steaming cup from the pot the chef had just brewed, when you speak up.

“Morning, Law.”

He nearly drops his mug before turning around to see you, sitting at the kitchen island, with your own cup of coffee. (He notes how yours is a much lighter shade, and you’ve added ice and whipped cream. It fits you, he thinks, to prefer something sweeter. Great, just another reason why you could never like him the way he likes you.)

Law had purposefully been using his devil fruit and any other means to avoid you these last couple of days; yet here you are, looking at him with your knowing gaze. He was sure that you had caught on to his avoidance, because you’re perceptive like that, he just didn’t expect you to outsmart him like this. It’s enough to drive him crazy inside; like everything about you drives him crazy. (In some strange and foreign way that makes him yearn to be around you, but forces him to push you away.)

He mumbles out a quick “Morning.” and tries not to look as caught as he feels.

This is where you realize the flaw in your plan to confront Law: Sanji is also there. And despite the love you have for your crewmate, you don’t really want to do this in front of him.

So, when Law leaves just moments later, you follow.

And didn't I go and shout it

“Law! Wait up!” You call from a few paces behind him.

Though he doesn’t wait, he responds, “What?”

“What do you mean what? You’re being weird, and I want to know why!”

Law finally slows down, but only to open the door to the library, “I’m not being weird. Go away, y/n.” He states simply, then tries to close the door, but you hold it open.

When you walked into my room

You follow Law into the library- the room he has begun to frequent and sort of staked his claim on ever since he became a guest on board the Thousand Sunny.

With equal fervor, you respond; “Then why are you avoiding me? And straight up ignoring me when I try to talk to you? Because it’s really fucking rude. We’re friends, you know, and I thought-“

“We can’t be friends.” his voice is cold.

“Oh… Oh.” You think you understand now. “That’s so dumb, Law. Like, really stupid actually. Our friendship doesn’t depend on this alliance, if that’s why you-“

“It’s not!”

“Stop cutting me off! Ugh, just…” you sigh, clearly frustrated, “just tell me what’s going on then, please.”

He looks at you, your arms crossed and jaw set tightly. One might take your expression for angry upon first inspection, but there’s just a hint of sadness in your eyes and furrowed brows. He doesn’t want to ever see you like this- especially not because of something he’s done.

“I think I love you!”

This is it. He’s going to confess his feelings to you and ruin everything. You’ll probably hate him, never want to see him again, and that will just make it a hundred times harder to endure the remainder of his alliance with the Straw Hats.

“Well.. We can’t be friends because I…” Where was confidence and blatant disregard for the opinions of others when Law needed it?

You tilt your head and quirk a brow, giving him a quizzical look. The knowledge that you would never judge him so harshly; nor do anything to purposely hurt him, wasn’t doing much for his nerves right now, but it would have to do. He just needs to spit it out and get this over with now.

“I think I love you.”

You blink a few times as your eyes widen in clear surprise. Are you upset… or happy? He can’t tell, so he quickly corrects himself; “Uh- I’m falling in love with you. I think.”

(I think I love you)

Your frown grows into a small smile before the curve of your lips opens up into a much happier, brighter grin. And you laugh in a way that’s practically melodic to Law, which allows him to finally release the breath he’s been holding.

“I… I think I love you too, Law. Or I’m falling.” You emphasize the word like it’s an inside joke, just between the two of you. “It’s hard to tell.”

“…Yeah.”

“So… that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I’m, uh, sorry. I didn’t-“

Law stops when he feels the gentle press of your lips on the corner of his mouth. It’s barely a kiss, but you’re so incredibly warm and soft that he really doesn’t care that it only lasts 3 seconds. (Though, he would very much like it if you did it again. He makes a mental note to kiss you back with more certainty, should he get the chance.)

“It’s ok.” You tell him after you pull away.

He nods slowly- it’s probably the first time you’ve ever seen him in such a flustered state- before hesitantly leaning in again to close the distance between your lips. He tilts your jaw with one hand, and his other comes to rest on the small of your back. But he waits for you, like asking for your permission, which you grant him by parting your lips slightly. Then Law finally kisses you; it’s slow and a little unsure at first, but he quickly gets caught up to speed. You both find yourselves lost in the other as the whole exchange becomes more passionate, albeit a little aggressive and clumsy.

And this time, the kiss lasts much longer than 3 seconds.

[hanglimi]

waltzes and bets - hanni

TAGS - hanni x f! reader, just fluff, enemies to lovers, college!au

WORDCOUNT - 1.9k

WARNINGS - none that i know of?

A/N - this is written weirdly because i'm inconsistent and wrote this over the course of like, a full month, but i still hope you enjoy. also the ending is rushed i'm so sorry.

hanni never thought her college life would be so dreadful.

that was a lie.

she knew that the workload would be painful, and the sleepless nights would definitely take a toll on her mental health, but she never knew that specifically, the roommate portion of her college life would be so dreadful.

the door to their dorm slammed shut as her roommate decided to finally come in for the night. it had been at least three days since you had shown up to their dorm at all, and hanni was incredibly surprised to see you enter. you were definitely drunk–she could tell by the way your speech was slurred, and the overall appearance of your clothes–but it was still progress.

“are you drunk?"

you simply ignored her as you approached your room to sleep. considering it was 2 AM, she could understand your tiredness, but she still didn’t appreciate the silent response.

“bro!” she shouted, already infuriated with you despite it being 10 seconds of interaction in the past couple of days.

you turned to face her, and she didn’t realise how close you actually were to her face until she could smell the booze off your breath, and study each intricate detail of your eyes. flustered, she pushed you down onto the couch, and stood with her hands on her hips, keeping her distance from your sleepy gaze.

“do you ever stop to think about how I feel when you come here drunk, and after such a long time of not even being here at all?” hanni fumed, and she felt her face getting warmer at the thought of your inconsideration. “like, just think about it. you waltz in here at 2 AM, ignore my question, and-”

during her heated rant–practically monologue–you had knocked out on the couch, even going as far as snoring, quite loudly. she groaned, and almost slapped you awake, but decided against it. hanni quickly packed up her laptop she was using for studying, and eyed your form as she slowly walked towards her room. sure, she hated you, but wouldn’t it be the good thing to make sure you were comfortable as you slept?

she was just being nice, right? a nice, kind roommate, who deserved a better one.

you groaned as you opened your eyes, your head already starting to hurt from the insane amount of alcohol you had taken the night before. you felt like shit, and unfortunately, it didn’t seem like you had woken up in yunjin's dorm like you had been doing the past few days, but instead at the actual dorm you were currently paying to live in.

your back cracked as you lifted your body up from the couch. you had fallen asleep on it last night after being lectured by hanni–something to do with waltzes, but you never really knew nor cared for what she complained about half the time anyways.

surprisingly, the back of your head didn’t seem to hurt as much as it usually did when you fell asleep on couches, and your body was warm compared to the temperature inside of the room. that’s when you noticed the pillow you had been laying on, and your blanket splayed across your body, half of it on the floor. obviously you weren’t drunk enough to forget to sleep comfortably, which was a win in your book.

you got up from the couch, glad that today was a saturday and you had no plans to attend with friends. the dorm was obviously empty, only the rare creak of the floorboards as you paced around, and you let out a content sigh. today was going to be your dedicated relaxation day–a day to destress before exam season officially started next week.

only an hour into your “spa day” and immediately after your shower you already heard a knock on the door. deciding to ignore it, you continued to sing along to your music as you got into comfortable clothes, hoping it was just a student forgetting their dorm room. unfortunately, your bliss didn’t last long as the person knocked again, quite forcefully this time.

“i’m coming!” you shouted, groaning as you slipped on a shirt and struggled to step into your pants while walking towards the front door.

you opened the door to an angry hanni, crossing her arms, and who you assumed to be her friend, minji–the girl she was constantly on a call with–stood behind her.

“what the hell took you so long?” your roommate grunted as she peered into the dorm, her face blanching at the mess you left on the floor. hanni was sure she had told you earlier this week to clean up the place because she had a friend coming over, and you couldn't even do that. she shouldn’t have bothered to trust you. she groaned and pushed herself through you to walk inside, motioning to minji to give her one second as she closed the door and stood in front of you.

“i told you I had someone coming over today and you still left this place a mess?” hanni’s voice got louder while she spoke, and you swore you saw smoke coming from her ears.

“i had better things to do,” you said simply, and grinned at her shocked face. she only got angrier at that. she raised her fist and hit your shoulder repeatedly, intending to bruise it, but you only laughed it off, letting her have her moment before pushing her backwards and creating space between the two of you again, slightly missing the warmth of her presence.

“i’m sure minji won’t even mind,” you drawled, walking towards the couch and sitting down, pulling out your phone, “it’s not like I threw up on the ground or something. there’s just some dishes in the sink and some clothes on the floor.” you finished, but it seemed as though she had already given up and gone to open the door to let her friend in.

“sorry about the mess, minji,” she said, venom still in her voice. “we’ll just hang out in my room today.”

you don’t know why, but your heart felt disappointed at the sight of her back turned, leaving you to sit alone in the living room. you’d have to check in with your doctor soon.

two days had passed since the “clean up” incident–as hanni liked to call it– and she was still talking to her friends about it. she laid on her bed, propping her phone up to make sure the other 4 on the facetime could see her properly as she ranted.

“unnie!” hyein whined, accidentally dropping her phone on her face in the process. “you’ve been talking about y/n for two days straight!” she said, picking her phone back up and rubbing her face up and down.

“hyein! are you okay?” dani asked worriedly, as if she could reach through the screen to comfort her.

hyein pushed her camera backwards to fit her hand into the frame, showcasing a thumbs up to the older girl.

“are you mad because she didn’t clean up, or because she didn’t listen to you?” haerin asked, staring intensely at her camera.

“w-what?” hanni sputtered, her cheeks burning red at the question. “obviously the former!”

minji raised her eyebrows, and hanni wished it was possible to slap her through the screen.

“okay,” she dragged out the word, “maybe it was a bit of both.” the chaotic sound of four people speaking at the same time erupted from hanni's phone, and she quickly lowered her volume, considering the walls of the dorm were thin.

“guys, guys!” she yelled, trying to get the girls to calm down. “it’s not even about that, it's about the principle-”

“that's what they always say, but then in a couple of days i’ll see you guys kissing or something.”

“minji!”

-

the thing minji said stayed in hanni’s mind for longer than she would’ve liked, and now she couldn’t go a day without thinking about how it’d feel to kiss you. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly attracted to you, but it definitely wasn’t as big as her friends were making it. unfortunately, it wasn’t helping that you seemed to be getting nicer over the course of the last couple of weeks. actually listening to her when she asked you to do something, making her favourite dessert while claiming you made “extras”, and things like coming in early and actually sleeping in the dorm.

“I hate changing these-” hanni grunted, the step stool underneath her wobbling slightly, “stupid batteries.” she glared up at the ceiling. “i can never reach the smoke alarm.”

“did it die?” you asked, yelling from your room.

“what do you think i'm changing the batteries for?” she deadpanned.

“i’m going to ignore what you said,” you made a face at her as you walked out of your room, obviously having just woken up from a nap. “just get down, i’ll do it.”

you walked up behind her, and held her waist, guiding her down the stool, reaching your hand out for the screwdriver and batteries. she blushed at the contact and coughed, handing them to you, her head moving upwards to watch you replace the device.

“sometimes i forget how short you really are,” you giggled as you stepped down from the stool, placing the tools in your hands on the kitchen counter.

“shut up,” she replied. her voice was still caught in her throat, the ghost of your hands still on her body.

you gave her a weird look at the sound of her voice before walking towards the fridge, opening it up and glancing over the limited options college students could afford. while you looked for something to eat, hanni stood still, watching your every move, thoughts invading her head.

you turned around to look at her, and cocked your head, your heart speeding up at the intense gaze she was staring at you with. it had taken you a while to realise you had slowly developed a crush on your roommate, and it took you an even longer time to confide about it with your friends. obviously they had teased you and laughed at you the first couple of days, but they had eventually decided to help you in the end–giving you tips on how to improve the strained friendship (if that's what you could call it) between you and the girl, and maybe get her to like you.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your voice came out quiet, and breathy, heat spreading up to your cheeks as hanni continued to stare straight at you.

“you’re actually kind of cute,”

the words came out mumbled, and even in the quiet of the room you couldn’t hear her.

“could you repeat that?”

“i said,” she started again, taking small steps towards you, cornering you in the kitchen,

“you’re actually kind of cute.” she ended, a smile on her face.

“thank you guys for inviting me tonight, but it’s getting pretty late so i think i’ll take my leave-”

minji would’ve been ecstatic if someone had told her in advance that she’d have to see her best friend and her best friend’s roommate kissing on the couch, and being a little too close for comfort. just so she could have mentally prepared a little bit.

“minji!” hanni screamed as she fell from the couch and onto the ground, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to conceal your laughter, your emotions thoroughly confused on if you should be embarrassed, horrified, or cackling.

“i knew this would happen!” minji yelled as she covered her eyes with one hand, and used the other to guide her way to the door. “i’m telling everyone!”

“did your friends bet on us?” you asked, your eyes widening at minji's words. your emotions finally deciding to land on mortified.

“well, it wasn't necessarily a bet per say-”

“you are so annoying!”

A/N : i'm not necessarily back, but i just wanted to get something out because i have been struggling through writer's block. everything is just kicking me down rn so if i go MIA again don't be surprised. 😭

anyways, hope you enjoyed this!

[venusrising91]

Cam-Boy

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut 18+ (sprinkle of plot)

Summary: Bunny_hunk_lee is the top OF performer in your state—he’s also the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. You’ve been subscribed to his channel for months, and when a rare opportunity to breathe the same air as him presents itself, you leap at it.

Word count: 1,960 (about 2 pgs)

T/W: Forced urination, para-social relationship and power imbalance

“Bi_sexiboi93! Thanks for that generous donation. Much appreciated babe.”

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face at the sound of your username leaving Bunny_hunk_lee’s lips. You never missed a stream and tonight’s was spectacular. You shared an orgasm—through the screen of course.

Bunny_hunk_lee toweled the cum off his abs with a smirk and the sight alone was enough to push you over the edge once more. But you controlled yourself, and instead sent him another donation—double the amount of the last one. “Whoa, thanks again Bi_sexiboi93. You really love me don’t you baby?”

He spoke like this to all of his subscribers—it was nothing special, you knew well. But that didn’t stop the heat from spreading through you at the mention—at the acknowledgement.

After flexing his triceps and giving his cum-slick cock a few more pulls, Bunny_hunk_lee ended the stream. You sighed and cleaned yourself up, then slipped in bed, pulling out your phone for one last doom scroll before resting.

A new post from Bunny_hunk_lee appeared on your feed. He was wearing the same clothes he had on during the stream, except it was daytime. He must have snapped it beforehand. It was a shot of him face down on his bed, in a hoodie and shorts—plump muscular ass taking up most of the frame. You commented: wish i was under you👅

Already drowsy from the orgasm, sleep came as easily as breathing, and you drifted.

The next morning, you woke twenty minutes after your alarm had gone off, and that meant that you had to rush through your shower and breakfast to avoid being late for work. Thankfully you made it there in time for the weekly meeting. When it was done, you caught up on some emails and before long, your lunch hour rolled around. You took it at your desk and whipped out your phone while you ate.

You nearly choked as the notifications filled your screen. Bunny_hunk_lee replied to your comment: oh yeah? What state you live in babe?

He had liked all six of the photos on your profile grid. Most were selfies you’d taken at the gym and a few blurry food pics. Your heart began pumping faster when you saw the icon indicating two unread messages from him in your inbox.

ur hot.

wanna bottom for me on OF?

You stared at the words with your mouth hanging open. You typed out four replies, deleting each one. Your initial reactions were too cringey to send. As you tried for a fifth time, a green dot appeared next to his profile pic. Then:

typing…

Fuck. Why was your heart beating so fast? Before you could steel yourself, another message popped up.

forgot to add, it’s for pre-recorded content, not a stream so can blur ur face

Anonymity and a chance to be with him? Who could ask for anything more? You took a deep breath and wrote:

I’m down. When and where?

Your hands were shaking as you exchanged messages back and forth, arranging the time and place for the shoot. He sent you his health details and a clean STD panel. You did the same, luckily having just gotten your results back from your last physical a few days ago. The timing was perfect. And you even lived near his address. All this time, he was just a twenty minute drive from your apartment. 

The rest of the day was a blur. Hell, the rest of the week. You were riding on a high—one you didn’t want to come down from. The man you’ve been jacking off to every night not only thinks you’re hot, but he wants to fuck you too. You could hardly believe it. 

Later, he went live and you tried watching the stream but found that it made you jitter with nerves and so for the first time in two years, you skipped it.

When the day of the scheduled hook-up finally arrived, you could hardly take steady breaths. You wished the drive up to his place took longer so you could gather yourself. But you were there in a flash.

Once you showed up, he stood on the other side of the door, smiling down at you. He was taller than you by more than just a few inches. You hadn’t expected that. In person his muscles were more defined—his complexion even richer. 

“Don’t look so nervous—I won’t bite until you ask me to, come on in.”

He opened the door wide and you slipped past him with a shy chuckle, catching a whiff of his cologne. Tom Ford, expensive stuff.

“Nice place,” you said, taking inventory of his spacious, luxury condo.

“Thanks. Bedroom’s just through there. Need anything before we get going. Water? Bathroom?”

You shook your head and made for the room. It was three times the size of yours. A camera was pointed at the bed. He came in and stood behind it, fiddling with the settings before peeling off his shirt.

“Should I take mine off too?” you asked.

“Whatever makes you comfortable, baby. Speaking of comfort, got any boundaries? Anything off limits?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you blurted out in excitement before thinking. He chuckled.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

He stepped from behind the camera and began palming your cock over your jeans, breathing minty breath over you all the while. He had you out of your clothes in seconds. 

“You gonna be a good bottom and stay hard for me the whole time?” he whispered as he gripped you, sliding his hand from base to tip and back again. You nodded, unable to find the words to form a reply. A small, helpless whimper escaped you as he tipped your head to the side and kissed the length of your neck. He made his way to your mouth. His tongue swirled around yours, warm and soft between your lips. The embrace was so intense that you had to pull away to catch your breath. As you panted, he put a hand on your shoulder, urging you onto your knees. He reached inside his pants and his thick cock sprang free. Quickly he took hold of it, slapping it against your face.

“Open your mouth for me,” he cooed, bottom lip caught between his teeth while he stared down at you. His head fell back as you swallowed him. “Just like that,” he added, groaning and fisting your hair. He let you give him head for as long as you wanted, praising you the whole time. The taste of his clean skin had you leaking onto the hardwood floors. He noticed the growing micro pool of it as he pulled you to your feet. “Crawl on the bed, all fours, ass to the camera. Gonna spread that hole and get you dripping even more.”

Once you assumed the position he’d asked of you, he struck an open palm across both of your ass cheeks. You gasped at the sting, then moaned long and hard as his tongue circled your entrance. He ate you for what felt like ages, teasing you here and there with tugs and strokes. You almost came as he pumped your rock hard cock from behind. Suddenly you jerked with the beginning of what would have been the most intense release of your life, but he abruptly drew back, sensing your orgasm and robbing you of it.

“Not yet, baby. Haven’t even given you my pipe. You want it don’t you?” You nodded, then he chuckled and slapped your ass cheeks again, driving away the sensation of your building orgasm and somehow, making you even harder than you had been. 

He took a break from spanking you to adjust the camera angle, leaving you feeling bare and exposed without the warmth of his body near yours. When he returned, you looked over your shoulder at him and caught a glimpse of his sculpted body. He was like an Adonis carving as he hovered over you. He winked before depositing a generous stream of lube onto your hole, spreading it around with his finger. He pushed one inside and you arched as it slid in.

“You’re tighter than I’m used to. I’ll take it slow,” he said.

He was true to his word, and took his time entering you. The stretch was like nothing you’d ever felt before. He had you fisting the sheets, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as he gave you deep strokes. 

Over and over again, he buried his length inside you. Sounds of him pounding you echoed throughout the space. It went on for long, glorious moments. Soon, he slowed his pace, and the tip of his cock curved against your prostate as his balls hit your ass. He lingered there, grinding. The motion made your eyes roll back while he pressed himself deeper, rubbing his engorged head against your spot and making you leak all over his clean sheets. It took you a moment to realize he was getting close. He emptied a hot burst of cum inside you the next instant, prompting your release. It swept over you like a storm—you weathered it beneath him, ass stuffed full of his cock. 

The ropes came one after another, followed by sharp cries. You shuddered there under all his weight, until he wrapped his arms around your waist and chest, then lifted you off the bed. You hadn’t realized how much stronger he was than you. It was like you weighed nothing to him, despite being pretty stocky and muscular yourself.

“What are you doing?” you asked through heavy breaths as he lowered you onto his lap, both of you were at the edge of the bed now, facing the camera.

“Buying time,” he whispered into your ear, “No one’s ever made me cum that fast.”

Before you could beg him to give you a minute or two to recover from your high, his hand was around your softening, sensitive cock. He pumped hard. You shrieked, bucking and jerking against his firm body. He stilled you with even harder strokes and you stopped fighting as a strange sensation overtook you. 

Before long something began building up—a sharp pressure, not unlike the feeling of almost pissing your pants.

“Please s-stop,” you begged between shivers and breaths. “Feels like I’m gonna—gonna—”

“Piss all over yourself and my floor?” he asked, pumping you even harder, “I know—that’s what I’m betting on. It'll look great on camera.”

Your eyes rolled back for the second time in one night as he pinned you tighter against him, one hand stroking you, the other cupping your balls—which were empty. It was your bladder that wasn’t.

“B-but—”

“Shhhh, it’ll feel good. Even better than the orgasm I just gave you, and you'll probably cum a little more beforehand too. I Promise. Just relax, let it happen. You’ll see, there’s nothing like it.”

You were too overstimulated to protest—to speak—to do anything outside of let your body be led by his influence. He guided you along the path of your second high. You didn’t think it was possible to feel anything as intense as the orgasm you just had. You were wrong. You came again somehow, just like he said you would.

Then, without warning, he slipped a finger inside you. You clenched around it uncontrollably and braced yourself against him as the contents of your bladder came gushing out, hard and fast like a fountain. He milked you for every drop as you squealed and writhed in his lap with your back against his chest, panting and on the verge of collapse.

“That’s it sexy. Let it all out for me like a good bottom.”

More tight-fisted strokes sent you arching and spraying. You had never felt anything like this. The floor beneath you was soaked. Both of you were drenched now. He didn’t seem to mind, and pressed kisses into your neck. The wetter you made the place, the more he praised you. You poured like a water hose for a full thirty seconds (you watched the recording once it was posted and timed it).

When at last he drained you of everything, you lay sprawled on the bed, limp and tender as a noodle. He helped you clean yourself, then lay beside you.

“Fuck that was good,” he said, tucking both hands behind his head. “You down for another round. Maybe later this week?”

You rolled onto your side and rested your head on his chest. He stroked your back. 

“Yeah,” you said, “I’d love that.”

[hotchreid-cm]

Moment of Weakness (2) / Aaron Hotchner

(He's so pretty)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: The aftermath to the incident in Hotch's office.

Warnings: Typical Criminal minds topics (bombings), rushed and not proofread. Not really a happy ending...

A/N: I wrote a part 2 since so many wonderful people asked. Not sure if I liked it and I got too carried away, oops!

(Read Part 1 Here)

After the incident in Hotch's office you weren't sure that you could face the man again. You felt like you only made his situation worse, which was never your intention.

You had just got caught up in the moment. You had had a crush on Hotch just after your third case with the team. It had taken a toll on you and Hotch offered to drive you home.

And when he parked outside, you just sat there, taking more of his time but he didn't care. He talked to you for what felt like ages, about the case, the team, Jack and Haley...and the crush steadily turned into a quiet pining.

You kept it to yourself of course. You never told anyone, and you obviously did a great job of hiding it because no one suspected a thing. Not even Hotch, which killed you but you'd never ruin a family like that.

You heard how he spoke of Haley and Jack that night over a year ago now and if anything, you were happy that he was happy. Until his confession in his office last night.

JJ pulls you out of your thoughts, "we've got a case. Two bombings in the last 24 hours. We're leaving in 10 minutes, we'll debrief on the jet."

You take the file from her and look it over before grabbing your go bag and heading for the jet.

You were the last but one on which made you frown, "where's Hotch?"

Rossi looked over to you, "personal day. He'll meet us there when he can."

You didn't hear much after that. Your thoughts racing with all sorts of possibilities and hoping none of it was because of you. The guilt sitting in your stomach like a stone.

By the time Hotch caught up to the team, you were all gathered in the precinct talking to Garcia.

Everyone paused the conversation to fill Hotch in. The thinking was a high school student getting revenge. There was at least one victim from every explosion linked to the same school. The others just got caught in the crossfire.

"If that's the case then we need to talk to the parents and close friends of the ones who died and see if anyone had a grudge against them", Hotch says.

"I'll go back to the Denvers and talk to them since I've only just left. They had a son die in the second explosion and the brother may know something. " You jump in straight after Hotch, eager to go back to the family you were trying to help through this.

He shakes his head, "no, you stay here with Reid and try and figure out where he might strike next. Prentiss and Morgan go to the Jason's. Rossi and I will go to the Denvers while JJ handles the media coverage."

Everyone springs into action but you step forward, "you're benching me?"

Hotch turns back to you sharply, "stay here and work the profile with Reid."

"I'm the one that should talk to the Denvers, I've already built rapport" your voice rising.

"Stay here at the station with Reid. That's an order." Hotch turns away and stalks out the office with everyone else giving you sympathetic looks on their way out.

You and Reid work the case. Rossi calls not long after they left saying the Denvers were on the way to a memorial service put on for families of the second explosion but they couldn't say whether anyone held a grudge against their son.

Then Morgan calls, "okay, Jessica Lambert said that Danny Denvers is the one that gets picked on the most at school."

You perk up, "wait, Danny? As in, Tommy Denvers brother who died in the explosion?"

"Yeah, and Jessica also said that Tommy would join in on the bullying so that he could fit in."

You look to Reid in horror, "I thought he was so withdrawn because his brother had just died, not because..."

Reid voices the conclusion you just came to, "Danny Denvers is our unsub."

You pull your phone out and dial Hotch on instinct.

"What?" He answers.

And you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "the Denvers, you said they were going to a memorial service, was Danny going with them?"

"No, they said he wasn't feeling well. Why?"

"Danny Denvers is the unsub. He got bullied at school and even by his own brother, Tommy."

You hear the car spin around as Hotch says, "we'll go back to the house. Tell Morgan and Prentiss to head to the school. Stay at the station."

And he was gone before you could protest.

After telling Morgan where to go, you stare at the board in front of you.

Reid asks, "what's wrong?"

You shrug, "something doesn't feel right. If Danny wanted to blow up the school he could have just gone this morning. Instead he stayed back."

Reid scrunches his nose, "okay, so what's your point?"

You think back to your time at the Denver house and it clicks. You call Garcia, "hello Mr and Mrs Genius, how can I help you?"

"Garcia, the Denvers said they were going to a memorial service today. Can you tell me where it is?"

You hear the typing before she answers, "I just sent the address to your phone."

"Thanks", you say as you rush to grab car keys from the desk.

"Hotch said you had to stay at the station." Reid says, phone already in hand.

"I'm the closest and I'm not going to be benched because Hotch can't get his head out of his ass."

You race to the funeral home, stepping out of the car and scanning the area for any signs of the service amongst the gravestones.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket like its been doing the whole drive here. You answer to Hotch's booming voice, "do not go in without back up or bomb squad."

You shake your head despite him not being able to see, "bomb squad won't get here in time."

You keep scanning as he replies, "I mean it. Don't approach on your own. Danny profiles like a-"

You cut him off as your eyes land on the scene you were looking for, "a suicide bomber."

You see him with a crudely made vest and a trigger in hand as he screams at his parents.

You take off towards them, phone still to your ear as you say, "Hotch. I'm sorry." Hoping he can hear everything you really want to say.

You hang up and draw your gun as you dodge the people fleeing. You call out, "Danny! Remember me? Is it okay if we talk?"

"I don't want to talk to you. I want them to listen." His wild eyes looking to his parents.

"I know they never listened to you. I know they always put Tommy first, even when he was the one bullying you." You step closer to the Denvers, trying to draw his attention away from them.

Tears stream down his face, "I never did anything wrong! Tommy was the one going to parties and staying out past curfew and he was still the favourite!"

"So you decided to teach them all a lesson?"

He looks to you as sirens wail closer and closer, "well someone had to! No one was going to save me from them so I had to do it myself!"

You finally step in front of the Denvers blocking his view, "and I think you taught the lesson well. Now everyone knows."

You see Rossi and Hotch coming towards you as you gesture the Denvers to go towards them.

Danny watches his parents go with surprising calm as you say, "just give me the trigger so you can tell everyone your story."

With eyes still on his parents he mumbles, "they'll never get it."

You hear Hotch call your name as Danny takes his finger off the trigger.

You dive for cover, landing in the 6ft hole meant for the casket. You feel your body slam into the ground, losing consciousness before help arrives.

When you come to, it's mostly a blur. The hospital checked you over and after some arguing, they agreed to let you go as long as you got checked out back home.

The jet ride back was quiet and once it landed everyone went their separate ways. Except Hotch.

"I'd like to drive you home, if I may?" He asks.

You shake your head, "nah, I'm good. I can wait to hear the riot act on Monday."

Hotch places his hand on your forearm so gently you can barely feel it, "please?"

You stare at each other for a few moments until you finally agree.

Once you're on the road Hotch says, "what you did was reckless."

He says it with a soft voice which is somehow so much worse than if he just yelled at you.

You loved his voice, you loved the comfort he exudes even when he's angry but right now you wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Hotch, please..."

But he continues, "and while it was incredibly reckless, I have to say I owe you an apology."

Your mouth pops open as you turn to look at the man behind the wheel.

He sighs, "if I didn't have my head up my ass, I wouldn't have benched you and made you feel the need to run into danger on your own."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, "you heard that, huh?"

Hotch shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Reid had already dialled my number when you said it."

Silence descends again until he parks up outside your apartment.

"I'm also sorry for the things I've said."

You stare out the window when you reply, "when?"

Hotch parrots your question with more confusion, "when?"

"Which time? You've been a dick to me ever since that night. It took the both of us to make that mistake. And the funny thing is you're not even angry at me, you're angry at yourself and you're taking it out on me and I don't deserve that."

"You're right, you don't. You deserve so much more. I realised that I could have lost you and...I'm not sure I'm ready to look into why that's terrified me so much. And I know I don't have a right to ask this but I would like it if you waited."

You study his profile, not quite understanding what he's going through but wanting to all the same.

He looks to you and the vulnerability you see laid bare in his eyes takes your breath away, "Me and haley are going through a divorce and a part of me will always love her. Things will be messy for a while but I'd like to take you to dinner...maybe when things calm down, if you'll let me?"

You're not really sure what to say. You've wanted Aaron Hotchner to ask you out for a long time. You've wanted him for even longer. But this isn't how you imagined that would go.

You knew things would be complicated with Haley and you knew he'd always love her in some way and it didn't bother you. But the timing of it all made you feel more like a consolation prize than someone he truly wants.

You reach your palm out until it makes contact with his cheek, you thumb stroking the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"I've been in love with you for a long time, Aaron Hotchner. And all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. And those two things have been in conflict ever since."

His eyes take on a glassy tint as his hand covers your one on his face. He understands what you're saying but you say it anyway.

"I don't think I'm what you need to make that happen right now. And I don't know if I'll ever be that or if I can wait that long for you to figure it out."

You give Hotch a sad smile, dropping your hand and exiting the car. Each step further away from him, makes your chest ache. And you wonder if you'll always carry that ache wherever you go.

A/n: I guess I'm feeling angsty lately but hope you enjoyed all the same!!