#baby you’re not going to get an email about books

[amirasainz]

Can you do reader is Landos sister and she’s his whole world but she’s away at school and she surprises lando at a race?

Of course!!! I hope you like this.

Send me some requests and enjoy reading

-XoXo

Little Norris

It was no secret within the paddock that Lando Norris’ favorite person in the entire world was his younger sister, YN. No matter the context—be it interviews, casual conversations, or even playful banter with other drivers—Lando always found a way to bring her up.

The paddock had grown accustomed to hearing him wistfully complain about how much he missed her, and how unfair it was that she was stuck at school, unable to attend the races.

Sadly, this wasn’t just an exaggerated tale; YN was enrolled in St. Paul’s Girls’ School, a prestigious all-girls school in London, where students could only visit their families during weekends and holidays.

However, YN’s academic commitments were so demanding that even those weekends were usually spent buried in books, only leaving the school for holiday visits. Lando’s ever-busy Formula 1 schedule certainly didn’t make things any easier.

So, it came as no surprise to Oscar when Lando began lamenting once again about how much he missed his baby sister.

“I just don’t get why she still has to go to school. It’s miles away, and she can’t even come home on the weekends,” Lando groaned, his expression a mix of frustration and longing. “The last time I saw her was in February, Oscar. FEBRUARY. Can you believe that?”

Oscar, who had heard variations of this complaint countless times before, only raised an eyebrow and responded with a calm, “Really?” knowing full well that Lando wasn’t done yet.

“And to top it off,” Lando continued, his voice rising in exasperation, “I tried calling her yesterday. And instead of picking up, she sent me to voicemail. Voicemail, Oscar! Why would she do that? Do you think she’s mad at me? Oh no, what if Mum finally told her I was the one who ate the last cupcake at Christmas? She’ll never forgive me!”

Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle at Lando’s melodramatic worry, but the constant whining had begun to wear on him. Finally, he placed both hands on Lando’s shoulders, spinning him around to face him directly.

“Lando, relax. I’m pretty sure your mum didn’t tell her about the cupcake incident,” Oscar said, trying to suppress a smile. “She’s probably just busy studying. You know how much school means to her.”

Before Lando could cut him off with another complaint, Oscar pressed on. “Look, we all know how much you adore YN, and you’d probably move mountains to keep her by your side. But you’ve got to understand—she enjoys school. She loves hanging out with her friends, and she’s passionate about her classes. She’s smart, Lando, and she adores you just as much as you adore her. So don’t go saying silly things like this. You know it would make her feel bad.”

Lando let out a deep sigh, the usual playful glint in his eyes dulled by a hint of sadness. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, his pout still intact as he was called away by one of the McLaren mechanics.

He gave Oscar a grateful, albeit slightly sheepish, smile before walking off towards the garage.

Oscar watched his teammate disappear into the distance, and once Lando was far enough away, he exhaled deeply, the weight of the secret he’d been holding onto starting to lift. No one had ever told him that lying—even for a good cause—could be so exhausting.

Because, of course, Oscar hadn’t been entirely honest. He was well aware of just how much Lando missed his sister. In fact, he’d spent weeks meticulously planning a surprise that would, if all went smoothly, bring YN right to Lando’s side.

After countless emails, flight arrangements, and some help from McLaren’s logistics team, Oscar had managed to fly 17-year-old YN out to Azerbaijan for the next Grand Prix.

The plan was to keep her arrival under wraps until after qualifying, ensuring Lando could focus on the race without the overwhelming distraction of knowing his favorite person was already there. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to lose focus during such a crucial part of the weekend.

While Lando busied himself with free practice sessions, YN was out exploring the local markets with some of the McLaren team’s family members. She was set to return to the paddock just as Q1 began, hidden away in the garage until the perfect moment.

Oscar had envisioned Lando’s face lighting up with pure joy, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the surprise.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

But things didn’t go quite as planned.

Qualifying that day turned out to be a disaster for Lando. From the very first lap, nothing seemed to go right. He struggled with the car’s balance, fought the understeer in nearly every corner, and couldn’t extract the pace he needed. Sector after sector, frustration built. The radio was filled with agitated comments, and by the end of Q1, he had been knocked out of qualifying altogether, missing the cutoff for Q2 by mere fractions of a second.

When he climbed out of the car, his body language said it all. Lando was livid—frustrated with the car, with himself, and with the result.

His helmet visor remained down longer than usual, as if he wanted to hide his disappointment from the world.

His walk back to the garage was slow, shoulders slumped, as mechanics and engineers exchanged worried glances but kept their distance. No one dared say a word.

Once inside the team’s motorhome, Lando stormed off to his driver’s room, eager for a moment alone. The air in the narrow hallway was thick with tension, and Oscar watched him go as his teammate finally ripped of his helmet, his heart sinking.

He knew Lando was hard on himself, but he also knew what awaited him on the other side of that door.

Lando opened the door to his driver’s room with a frustrated push, expecting to collapse onto the couch and stew in his disappointment. But as soon as he stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat. Standing in the middle of the room, a small, warm smile on her face, was YN.

“Surprise,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling as she took in her brother’s shocked expression.

For a split second, Lando didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at her, as if his brain needed a moment to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. Then, suddenly, it all hit him at once—the weeks of missing her, the frustration of the race weekend, the love he felt for his little sister—and his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“YN...” His voice cracked as he whispered her name.

Without another word, Lando rushed forward and pulled YN into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder as if he were afraid she might vanish if he let go.

His arms wrapped around her protectively, squeezing her like a lifeline. YN, used to Lando’s emotional side, simply hugged him back, gently running a hand through his hair.

“I missed you so much,” Lando mumbled into her shoulder, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I missed you too, Lan,” YN whispered, a soft laugh escaping her. “Oscar helped organize it. He said you’ve been whining about me non-stop.”

Lando laughed, a watery chuckle escaping him as he finally pulled back to look at her, his hands still resting on her shoulders. His eyes were red and glassy, but his smile was the brightest it had been in weeks.

“You have no idea how much better this makes everything,” he said, his voice still shaky with emotion. “I had the worst qualifying. But... you're here now.”

YN smiled at him, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry I missed qualifying, but I’m here for the race tomorrow. We’ll celebrate then, okay?”

Lando nodded, pulling her back into another tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. “I don’t care about the race right now,” he muttered, his voice soft. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

For the next few minutes, they simply stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.

Lando’s earlier frustrations seemed to evaporate, replaced by a warmth that only YN could bring him. He felt calmer, more grounded, like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and Oscar poked his head in with a cheeky grin. “You okay in here? Thought I’d check in before I’m accused of kidnapping your sister.”

Lando turned around, still holding YN close, and flashed Oscar a grateful smile. “Mate, I don’t even know what to say. You’ve made my year.”

Oscar laughed, stepping into the room. “I figured you could use a pick-me-up. I was getting tired of the constant whining.”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Suddenly, Lando’s mood shifted entirely, the disappointment from qualifying now a distant memory.

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Right, we need to introduce you to everyone!” He glanced down at YN, who chuckled in response.

“I’ve already met some of them,” she teased, “but I’m sure they’ll appreciate your grand tour.”

“Trust me, it’s different when I introduce you,” Lando said proudly, his arm slung around her shoulders. He led her out of the room, a new energy in his step as if the earlier qualifying session had never even

With his little sister by his side, the world already looked a lot brighter than it did that morning.

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ The Assistant.

✩ endeavor x assistant!f!reader

we all want to have him as our boss and fuck him, right?

✩ warnings & tags: it’s endeavor and im writing it, so you know there’s a bunch of hot sex involved. size difference, small age gap, creampie, pussy smacks, oral, semi-public sex, domination, established affair (enji’s seperated, but not divorced), implied sadism, breeding (possibility of a child).

there you were, underneath your boss’s mahogany colored desk; shoving his fat, can shaped cock further down your throat. eyes watering as he fills your mouth to the brim.

the number one hero tried his hardest to not throw his head back and let out a groan, while you devoured his cock. but, the way you handled his balls and sucked him like he was a cherry tootsie pop; made it harder for him and he quickly let out a thick load deep into your mouth.

a loud groan left his throat and his thighs quickly clench around your head; almost suffocating you while he cums. your eyes roll back into that pretty little head of yours, while a small yet powerful orgasm runs through you and he finally lets his thighs relax; making you release his cock from your pretty stretched out mouth.

a string of his cum mixed with your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you looked up into his icey blue eyes, smiling with satisfaction since you took his cock and fallen babies so well. he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to his torso, leaning down to kiss you; his leftovers mixing into his mouth.

“such a good girl for me.” he praised, biting your bottom lip before he pulled away; eliciting a whine from you. he zipped his softening cock back into his pants and helped you get up from under his desk, handing you a kleenex so you could clean your fucked face; before returning to your desk outside of his very spacious office.

you had been working with the number one hero for quite some months now. he had needed an assistant with this big promotion and from hundreds of recommendations, he hired you. and from that day on, something in him lit up and he decided to make you his dirty little mistress.

you knew Enji was married, since he still wore his wedding ring on his finger, but you didn’t care. his martial status meant nothing to you as long as he continued to pump you full of his cock on a daily basis. call it wrong, but that’s just how you felt.

waving at burnin as she passed by your desk and entered your office, you signed into your laptop and started going through your emails and looking over your boss’s calendar book. until, your phone chimed with a text from endeavor’s personal number.

it was a photo of his clothed bulge with a message underneath it.

- still hard. come let daddy drill this cock in you.

his dirty message made you clinch your thighs together and you quickly replied.

- i would if i could, got to reply to these emails and you’re still talking to burnin. how about i send you a video of me playing with myself, instead?

he quickly liked the message and you giggled. you quickly looked around to check if anyone was coming, before you held your phone up and spread your soiled panties to the side, dipping your fingers in between your drenched lips.

your stifled a moan by biting yours lips, thinking about what happened prior to this, making you cum within seconds. you rode out your orgasm and ended the video, hitting send; before you started typing on your computer again. you knew he would watch the video with his sidekick in his office, volume low along with the brightness. and a few seconds later, the blazin haired hero walked out & relayed that endeavor wanted to see you.

on cue, you walked right back into his office; notebook in hand and quickly closed the dark oak door behind you; before walking up to his desk. you watched as his muscles flexed and protruded through his black velvet sweater, while he pressed play to watch your sexy video once more.

“so pretty and wet for me…look at her clinch around nothing…so sexy~” he turns the phone so you could see, making your face hot and your thighs press together.

“you’ve got a meeting in a few mins,” you reminded, just in case he got a bright idea. and just like you thought, he did.

“get back under this desk and take daddy’s dick while they all pile in here. and if you make a peep, there’s going to be hell for you~” you knew he was serious from the way that he spoke, with your body acting on its own; you found yourself following his orders and dipping underneath his desk again.

you turned your clothed ass towards him, arching your back so he could plunge himself into you with ease. he unzipped himself from his corduroy confinements, freeing his throbbing fatness. he pushed up your skirt and ripped your panties off of your body, before pushing his swollen tip towards your tight entrance.

and as you backed yourself up onto his cock, his employees apart of the meeting came piling into his office, sitting on the black loveseats he had inside. you covered your mouth with your hands, smothering the moans that left your lips as his cock stretched your gummy walls to fit around him.

you would never get used to his sized, you felt like he would get bigger each time he fucked you, pushing your walls past its normal limits.

he did his best to control his facial expressions as he began talking about how they’ve been monitoring and controlling the nomu outbreak, while you fucked him.

your were now passing the pain threshold that came with fucking the number one hero and was now welcoming pleasure. you were more aroused than usual, thanks to the state that you were in. fucking your boss in a room with other’s, unbeknownst to them. pussy becoming wet with each glide around his cock, betraying you by making a squelching noise that could be heard by them.

but, endeavor was quick with putting on a video for them to watch; deafening the noise your pretty girl decided to make for him. you turned your head slightly, catching his gaze while you pushed your self deeper onto his shaft; mouth opening like a bitch in heat.

as you bounced your ass against him, your slick coated pussy became too slippery for his dick and he slipped out of you; causing a gush of air to flow out. an employee turned to see what that noise was, but when he saw endeavor’s stoic face, he quickly turned back around and continued to look at the video in front of him.

endeavor turned his attention back to you and gave you a look; pushing his cock back into you along with his thumb pushing into your other hole as punishment for making too much noise. you bit your finger tips so no one would hear you squeal, the next erotic sensation forced your mind to go dumb.

the way he fucked your cunt to his liking, pushing himself deep inside you where his tip kissed your cervix and rubbed your gspot with ease, made you unfold. eyes rolling back to the whites, cunt queefing with each movement; before he pulled himself out of you—replacing his finger in your ass with his cock; resting above your tighter hole. his own orgasm splayed out on your ass, jerking slightly as it pooled out from his tip.

you caught his eye once more, you could read the look on his face; he was far from done.

“meeting’s over,” he clicked off the flat screen tv, making all his employees look at him.

“but sir, we haven’t discussed—“

“get the fuck out, now” they weren’t trying to argue with him, quickly grabbing their things and leaving his office. it was without a doubt that they were afraid of him and no wasn’t the time to prove that. as the door closed behind the last person, he reached down and grabbed your hips, his cum dripping down between your cheeks as a result.

you sat on his lap, cock ghosting your entrance while he held you there, “didn’t i say you were going to get punished for making a peep?” his voice deep and serious, making you swallow the slight fear he gave you.

“im sorry—” you felt like your body was melting once he pushed himself back inside your cunt. how was he still hard? his libido always superseded yours. he didn’t let you adjust, his stiff dick bullying your hole with each pound, fucking you dumb once again.

“all ways so tight for me. god, i can’t stop fuckin this cunt” he sent a smack to your clit, causing you to jolt and clench down harder around him. he groaned at the sensation, sending another one to your sensitive bud. your soft mewls were like music to his ears, his dick throbbing repeatedly inside of you; he couldn’t wait to cum inside.

enji’s big hands reached around your chest and ripped your button up to shreds, buttons popping off and flying onto his big desk.

“enji!” you whined and he sent another smack to your clit, correcting you.

“daddy! I don’t have anything else to wear” you moaned when he pushed his cock further into you, cream slowly coated his base. he slowed his stroke down, making you whine once more. he loved hearing you call him daddy, it drove him insane.

“ill have someone bring you another one from the company’s closet. now be a good girl, while l finish fucking this pretty pussy of yours.” his speed picked up once more and he was drilling himself inside of you. he let out some groans, one more primal than the others as he creamed your pussy full of his babies.

he didn’t stop his movements after cumming either, pistoning his cock deeper inside of you; making your orgasm come down harder than the last. he made you squirt, hard, pushing his cock right out of your pussy—splashing his leaking head and his dark desk.

picking you up with his big hands, he stood you on your feet; legs wobbling from the amount of stress that was put on it seconds ago, before he bent you over his desk. his huge frame towered over your smaller one as he pinned your arms behind your back, pulling your skirt all the way down to your ankles and deepening your arch; just so he could re-enter you once again.

your ass rippled against his clothed pelvis, cream and slick sticking to the soft fabric, as he fucked you. you turned your head and was met with a picture of his estranged family and you couldn’t help but moan. taking someone’s husband’s cock in his office every day, knowing someone could walk in excited you. you were made to be his cock whore.

he gripped your wrists, arms bruising slightly from his grip while he pounded you relentlessly. you were cumming and so was he, the way his balls twitched and his stroke became rougher—you were going to be a good slut and take his last load.

“let me stuff you full of my babies again. want you pregnant with my seed~” you were so dizzy with cock, agreeing to his wish, drooling against his desk; while ropes of his cum flowed into you and your own orgasm erupting inside of you. you could see stars like one of those cartoon characters as you came, his dick slowing down inside of you; before he pulled out of you for the last time.

with a smack to your ass, he zipped up him pants and pulled you back into his chest; pressing his lips to yours; another way he dominated you.

“ill go get those clothes from the closet. put this on and stay here. also, when i get back clear my schedule; taking you back to my place so i can hear that pretty girl speak to me again~”

[moonstruckme]

hi!! Could you do a blurb with poly!marauders where they find reader crying and they get worried, but reader was just crying about a book and tries to explain it to them through tears and just ends up crying even more.

Thanks :)

Thanks for requesting lovely!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 567 words

James’ eyes are bleary as he goes down the hall to get a glass of water, and he has to blink a few times to convince himself he actually is seeing light coming from beneath your door. It’s the early hours of the morning, he can’t imagine why you’d still be up. He cracks the door and peeks inside, wondering if you might’ve just fallen asleep with the light on, but you’re sitting up in bed, a hand pressed harshly over your mouth as your shoulders hitch and tears dribble down your chin. 

“Sweetheart.” James rushes for you, kneeling on the bed and taking your face in his hands. You look surprised to see him, but your tears don’t stop. His heart cleaves wide open as a quiet sob escapes you, your wet, blotchy cheeks hot under his palms. “Honey, what’s happened?”

“It’s—it—” another sob escapes you, an awful, wrecked sound. You give up on trying to speak, launching yourself forward and burying your head in his shoulder.

James hugs you back. Your shoulders are quaking beneath his hand, and he feels a wet spot already forming where your face is smushed into the collar of his shirt. He tries shushing you, panic clawing up his throat. James hasn’t seen you this upset in all the time he’s known you. He’s desperate to know what the cause of it is, to fix it, but if it’s shaken you this badly, he’s worried he might not be able to. 

Either your cries or his voice has woken the other boys. Remus and Sirius both appear in the doorway, looking half-asleep until they catch sight of you weeping in James’ arms. 

“Wha—” Sirius looks around the room like the perpetrator of your upset might still be lingering in the corner. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” James says helplessly, rubbing your back. “Angel,” he murmurs, “do you think you could try and tell us what’s made you so sad?”

You sniffle wetly, picking your head up from his shoulder. Sirius makes a soft sound at the sight of your red, pinched face, glossy with tears and snot. 

“It—” You pick up your book, laying discarded beside you on the bed, and wave it about angrily. “The main character, she—” your bottom lip wobbles, and you toss the book aside, covering your face with your hands as you devolve into sobs again. You turn around to hide your face in your pillow.

“Oh, honey,” Remus coos, and James looks up bemusedly at the relief in his voice. He moves closer, rubbing your back sympathetically. “The main character of her book died,” he explains to the other two. “Did I get that right, darling?”

You nod into the pillow. 

“Baby,” Sirius says, and he’s laughing, “she was fictional.”

You make a terrible keening sound, your back convulsing with the force of your despair. 

Frankly, James doesn’t disagree, but he takes you by the shoulders, coaxing you up from the pillow and back into his chest. 

“I’m sorry, angel,” he says as you clutch fistfuls of his shirt, the material growing damp with snot and tears. 

“She was so young,” you whimper. “She wanted to—to do things.” 

“Oh, dove, I know,” Remus murmurs, moving his palm up and down your spine. 

“I hate the author.” 

“We’ll send them a strongly-worded email in the morning,” he promises you. “They’ll feel your wrath, sweetheart.”

[kisseobie]

jasmine

pairing: non idol jongseob x fem!reader

genre: fluff

a saccharine summer evening spent at your favorite nail parlor is so much sweeter when you’re accompanied by a boy made out of star-shaped tangerines 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

tags: established relationship, reader is slightly anxious, the sweetest boyfie seob, reader is sooo girly, slightly suggestive if you squint, jongseob thinks ur the prettiest girl in the world, usage of petnames (baby, princess, etc..), yall are so in love it’s sick, no smut in this but mdni pls

a/n: haiii everyone ^_^ so i haven’t written self inserts in years but i desperately crave more jongseob fics (as u can see from my last post lol) sooooo here i am!! this is very self indulgent but if i like how this goes i mighttttt start taking piwon requests :p please be kind as i haven’t written in a veryyyy long time… anyways enjoy 𓇼⋆｡˚

listening to: jasmine - dpr live ♪

“they have to soak off my previous set before they get started so you really don’t have to stay with me here if you don’t want to seob.. it’s gonna be 2 hours at least.”

you shyly inform him as you begin to retrieve your phone from your back pocket to search for your appointment confirmation email as the pair of you come to a gentle halt in front of the entrance of your favorite nail salon. you pause before entering, turning to face towards him as the salty breeze of the nearby boardwalk cards through jongseob’s copper colored hair, a sight that makes you swoon. “you sure you won’t be bored?” you ask shyly, and jongseob gives you a toothy grin in return, eyes crinkling softly as he tilts his head towards the sliding doors of the salon, a sweet and silent reply to your hesitance that speaks, “i’m never bored when i’m with you”. he slowly lifts his hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheek, all whilst interlacing his fingers with your slightly smaller ones as you both make your way into the salon.

you somehow find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

it’s been just short of a year since kim jongseob first approached you, fidgeting with the fabric of his favorite hoodie and swaying back and forth on his heels to ease his nerves as he asked you for your number. the sweet boy expected for you to kindly let him down (partly because you had never spoken to him a day in your life, and partly because of the gorillaz logo on his apparel), but to his astonishment, you simply punched your number into his keypad, and one text reading: “hi :)” led to a plethora of late night conversations, hushed giggles shared in his bedroom, and coffee flavored kisses in the mornings (much to his roomates’ dismay).

he’s wearing that same hoodie this evening too.

the domesticity of your blooming relationship is new, but never unwelcome, so it didn’t surprise you when he asked to accompany you when you were cuddled up with him a few nights ago, haphazardly mentioning that you were planning to get a new set of acrylics soon. seob had been paying for your previous sets despite your constant disapproval, but this was his first time going with you to a booking, and it felt oddly intimate, like you were starting to enter a more serious stage of your relationship.

jongseob’s reassurance allows you to let go of your irrational fear of him dying of boredom during your appointment, and with that, you two carry onto your seven o’clock session.

“girl, that’s your man? that’s the one you were telling me about?”

are the first words that leave your nail tech’s lips as as you settle down into her usual station, setting your purse to the side, straightening your jean skirt, and adjusting your bra strap as you question the surprise written all over her face. you had spent countless of sessions with her discussing your relationship with jongseob, her even being there for the details of your distant crush on him prior to you being asked out. always the persistent type, she had been practically begging for you to bring him around these last few appointments, mentioning something about “taking a good look” at the boy who had swiftly stolen your heart.

your tech must have noticed the slight blush of embarrassment appearing on your cheeks, because she jumped to clarifying her previous statement with, “i don’t mean that in a bad way babe! he’s definitely very attractive, i was just surprised you were so shy in approaching him is all.” at these words you tilted your head a bit, only more confused about the implications of what she was attempting to tell you.

“y/n, he was staring at you the entire time you were checking in like he’d hang the stars and moon for you if you’d ask. he had that dopey lovesick look and everything. he’s obviously smitten, you have literally nothing to worry about.” she relays to you with amusement as she dips your fingertips in acetone.

you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in and quietly giggle. “really? okay i’m really glad you said that, he’s been so sweet to pay for all of my sets without me even asking him to and i was just so worried that he’d hate me forever if he got bored sitting here. i think i’m just not used to doing simple chores with him rather than elaborately planned dates” you whisper to her. you then take a peek at your boyfriend’s comfortable form lounging on one of the hot pink seats of the salon, his nintendo switch clad in one hand, and his cheek pressing against the other. you notice he only has his left airpod in, just in case you needed to call for him. your heart melts at the sight, and you finally turn your full attention back to your tech, now removing your old set of nails.

as you wait patiently in your chair you begin to lightly sway your head to the song playing on a distant salon speaker, one that your boyfriend coincidentally has on repeat each time your with him nowadays. “it’s called jasmine, it reminds me of you.” is what you remember him telling you one morning, when you woke up for the first time in his bed, wired headphones connecting you both as the dpr live track overtook the cozy atmosphere.

every now and then you and seob glance at each other from across the salon, to which you both begin breaking out into big smiles and rosy cheeks. your nail technician carries on with replicating the reference nails you showed her to a T, but not without silently noting the heart eyes you and jongseob shoot at each other everytime your eyes happen to lock. this time, he mischievously motions for you to glance at your phone, a quiet “ding!” from your cell grasping both you and your tech’s attention.

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: you look so pretty right now baby, i’m so excited to feel your nails in my hair later lol

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: and maybe scratching my back too ;)

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: omg that was so embarrassing im so sorry please look away plead im so bad at this fuck

you look away from your screen embarrassingly fast, flustered and avoiding any eye contact with both your loser boyfriend (who is wallowing in his own embarrassment) and the woman now raising her eyebrows in front of you as she waits for your nails to cure under the uv lamp.

she is so making fun of you for that next time.

“andddd we’re done! just go wash your hands and your boyfriend can pay at the desk. he looks like he’s gonna flip if he isn’t holding you in some way in the next two minutes and i really don’t need to witness that.” she exclaims, not without exaggeratedly rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

you begin to fully assess your fresh new set of acrylics, now topped off with a sparkly clear coat. your nail tech even added some oil to your cuticles to try and make up for months of self-inflicted damage. after a minute of observing, you hum in approval, deducing happily that your boyfriend is going to love the colors you chose: tangerine with hints of cherry red to subtly match with his hair.

“perfect, just like always. thank you so much!” you say while handing her a generous tip, to which she holds out her hand in refusal and shakes her head. “no tip today, just go spend some time with him, i’m so happy for you y/n, seriously.” she replies kindly. you give her a hug to say thanks and tuck the cash back into your purse, turning and making your way towards the chair your boyfriend is currently occupying as he watches you with a warm smile, hands crossed in front of his chest as he holds back a laugh.

“what’s so funny?” you question as you approach him slowly.

“i called her beforehand and sent her a tip for you, i knew you were gonna try to pay somehow.” he giggles as he stands up. you scoff, but deep down you know you should have known he would outsmart you like this.

“i can’t believe you! i’ve told you a hundred times before that i don’t want you to spend your money on me!” you try to reason with him, to which he cuts your frustration off with a simple “who’s going to take care of you then, princess? now show me your nails!” he says as he hovers his hands in front of him, a signal for you to follow suit so he can observe the result of the previous two hours of work.

you decide to drop the subject for now and let excitement take over once again at his request, bouncing up and down whilst placing your hands atop of his palms, not allowing him to speak before you explain that “they match your hair, see? i asked her to do orange and red ombre!! and i know you love stars so i also asked her to add little golden star studs on my pinky nails! what do you think babe?” you half squeal out at him, clearly awaiting his approval.

“you did this for me?” he asks.

you deflate a little, dreading the small chance that your next words will result in an underwhleming reaction from him. “well yeah, sorry if it’s weird, i just wanted to do something nice since you offered to accompany me even though you would just be sitting in your chair for two hou—” he cuts off your anxious rambling with a strong kiss to your lips, followed by both of his palms covering the sides of your face to pull you impossibly closer. you gasp from the sudden movement, and just as you close your eyes to reciprocate, your boyfriend pulls back to show you the prettiest smile you have ever seen on his face.

“i guess you like them.” you sheepishly respond, holding back a smile equally as large.

he just replies by peppering your tanned skin with tangerine flavored kisses, each peck accompanied with the words “i love you, i love you so much”.

you and jongseob finally step out of the salon hand in hand, the cool air blowing onto your faces as you squeeze your interlocked fingers. jongseob presses on the pedestrian call button with one hand as you both anticipate the streetlamp to shift to green. you fill the comfortable silence with giggles and the occasional kiss to the cheek the entire commute to the subway, uncaring of prolonged glances from onlookers. words are only spoken an hour later when you’ve finally enter the warmth of his (and practically your) bedroom. jongseob turns towards you this time, clearly not as timid as he was hours before, smirking while pronouncing,

“in case you were still wondering, that offer from my text earlier still stands…”

it’s your turn to roll your eyes and shut him up, tugging him roughly towards you with the front of his stupid hoodie as your mouths connect with an urgency you’ve never felt before, the pair of you hurriedly falling on top of his bed as your nails make contact with his scalp.

𓇼⋆｡˚

in the quiet of the night, considered by some as early hours of the morning, jongseob holds your bare frame tightly against his own as he strokes his hand along your freckled back. your warm breaths tuck into the small crevices of his chest as your tangerine tinted nails draw hearts lightly into his skin, and with that, the two of you gradually lull into a peaceful slumber, but not before you look up at him and whisper,

“i did it for you.”

a/n: mwahahahahahahahaha it’s finally out.. thank u for being patient!! it was honestly so motivating to see that despite the fact that so many people had never read my writing before, their love for jongseob made them crave this fic soooo much LMFAOO we all are so down bad for this man it’s a bit insane. anyways like i said i haven’t written for years so this was short and a little choppy but i tried my best and hopefully i’ll get better with time ^_^ anyways i’ll be finishing up my next fic soon and then i’ll start working on requests!! thank u for reading, it means a lot to me <3

please do not repost my writing!

tags:

@chuuswifereal @angelcbf @lakoya @zendieya-8 @bambispostsblog @saturnh0ney @theyluvsosa @youresolivlie @woozixo @www90kitsch @sirenla @ihatewreckingballmains @curiousgworge @haileyyey @khfviq @highkeyadumbasslmao @lovebunnys-world @astro-doll-the-star @kyokopi @meowmeowjang @imma-penguin1 @sophia-is-tiny

ᥫ᭡

[hereforhalstead]

home.

Spencer Reid x reader fluff!

thank you SO much for the love on my first post, I’m so glad you liked it! Ill be honest, I started this with a completely different plot in mind but, here we are! Enjoy!

*****

5 days. That’s all it had been, but to him it felt like a lifetime. 

The more he thought about it, he realised, it was the longest you’d ever been apart.

You’d been asked to stay for a week in London with Garcia and Morgan to assist on a case that Emily so lovingly emailed over late last week. 

One minute it simply words on a screen in your inbox, the next you knew you were on a plane over the Atlantic.

Every night you and Spencer had spent as much time as possible on the phone, some evenings only getting 5 minutes but others being hours. But it still wasn’t enough.

You missed him. More than ever.

The case was tough and starting to take its toll on you, it felt never ending and you started to wonder when you’d actually be able to return to the place you called home.

The truth is, London was your actual home. Being born and raised there until your early 20s when you transferred over to the BAU unit and the rest was history.

Yes, it was nice to be back in familiar territories. Moaning about tourists blocking the pavements, stopping every 2 minutes to take photos of a bird sitting on a fence..

 The god awful weather still going strong as you were now on your 5th day of rain, wondering if you would actually see a glimpse of sun before you left.

But home wasn’t London anymore, it was wherever Spencer was. 

And he wasn’t here. 

****

You’d taken the papers back to your hotel room, the sheets all spread across the floor in a disorganised manner yet you still knew where everything was and that worked for you.

You were still in the same clothes that you had put on about 26 hours ago, cold coffee in hand, staring at the black text on the papers as if the answer would just jump out at you if you continued to do so.

Your phone ringing is what brought you out of your trance, letting out a loud yawn before answering it.

“How’s my favourite girl?”

Was all he said and it had you melting, bringing your knees to your chest as you leant back onto the bed.

“Hey Spence” you mumbled back, you could practically hear his smile on the other end of the line forming, just at the sound of your voice. 

“What time is it there?” You added 

“about 2 ish” 

Shit. That meant it was 6am for you, and you didn’t even realise. 

High praise for the blackout curtains in the room I suppose.

“And you’re still awake?” Your voice was sturn

“So are you?” He hit back. Fair play.

“I could’ve just woken up, you don’t know”

But he did. He knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“This is me you’re talking to baby, do you want me to hang up and ring back so you can see my name on the screen again?” 

Again, you could practically see how he would be sitting. Arm folded across his chest, either book still open in one hand or a hot cup of tea hooked onto his thumb. Smile as big as could be.

“Point taken” you mumbled 

“Tell me about your day” he was quick to respond, you hated yourself for how there was a quick second of the feeling that you couldn’t be bothered. 

You were exhausted and missing him.

You didn’t want to be talking to him over the phone about the same thing you’d been discussing with endless people all day. 

You wanted to be back at home, enveloped in his arms as he pulls you back into him as you try to leave the bed.

Or running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair as he tells you yet another fact about how despite its significance, London was actually the smallest city in the UK.

You missed the little things, you missed him.

“Y/N?” His voice broke the silence as you sighed, words leaving your lips before you had a chance to even process them 

“I miss you, Spencer” 

There was yet another pause, almost a huff coming from his end of the line as he replied

“I miss you too, sweetheart” 

“Spence, honestly I’m drained” you began to ramble 

“I’ve been staring at these same pieces of paper for days, I’m starting to think I’m just wasting their time being here”

He could hear you throw some of the documents onto the floor, bringing your hand to your forehead to relieve some of the tension.

“He’s killed 5 women since I’ve been here Spencer, 5. How useless am I that these women are literally depending on me and here i am, failing them” 

He was hurting, he was hurting because you were hurting. 

“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that” he assured, you could feel tour bottom lip quiver as the tears formed in your eyes 

“You know they asked you to be over there for a reason, you’re good at your job. You deserve to be there with the best of them and don’t forget that” 

“But I do-“ you tried to cut him off but he was quick to interject “uh uh”

“I will stay on this phone with you until you can tell me you’re good at your job, I don’t care how long it takes, Y/N. I want to hear you say it”

“What about if I don’t say if, just to get you to stay on the phone with me?” You lightly chuckled, heart fluttering as you hear his huff of laughter you so dearly missed.

“I mean, I have to be on the jet in 6 hours so if you’re happy for the whole team to hear our conversation then that works for me”

“Spence, I just feel as though I’m losing my mind. Tell me what I’m missing” you almost pleaded, knowing that if he was here he probably would have this case solved by now and back on the plane home. 

“You know the most important thing? Honestly, it’s what I do all the time and it truly does work”

You sat up in hope, waiting to hear his groundbreaking methods of solution.

“Sleep, Y/N”

You huffed, returning to your hunched back, cross legged position of defeat.

“That’s not fair” you scorned, his light laugh flooding through your ears “I thought you were actually about to help” 

“I mean it sweetheart, you can’t give your best to something on no sleep. I’m worried about you and if I can’t be there to look after you, I need to know that you’re looking after you” 

His words hurt, you knew he was worried but never thought he would just come right out and tell you.

“Fine” you huffed, crooking your neck to keep the phone in place at your ear as you start to get undressed.

“I’ll have a quick shower and then I’ll get into  bed” you assured “then I’ll text you in the morning with how many hours sleep I had”

You waited to hear his laugh but there was nothing.

“Can I ju-“ his tone was filled with doubt, like he was second guessing what he was about to say 

You let the line go quiet, waiting for him to finish his thoughts 

“Can I just stay on the phone with you?” 

You felt as though your legs could give way at the pain in his voice, the desperation to just have more time with you had you filling with guilt.

“Of course, Spence”

There was a hum of happiness and content, practically seeing how he slumped back into the headboard of the bed in the comfort of your words

“Why don’t you tell me about your day?” You questioned, giving up on the idea of the shower as you climbed into bed

“Oh! Funny story actually. Hotch had….”

There it was, the voice of such piece and familiarity that you so badly missed. 

He was your home.

[trippinsorrows]

without you + three

authors note: welp. the ball is, gradually, rolling.

do not read this story if you haven’t read ’with me’. it won’t work as a standalone.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two

words: 4k

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing.” Removing your eyes from the book in hand, you glare and flip your soon to be ex-fiance off if he keeps playing with you like this. 

Of course, he simply laughs as you shove on Joe’s shoulder.. “I’m serious.”

His hand moves to your stomach, rubbing a circle as he beckons, “tell me.”

Using the bookmark on the comforter, you stick it in the page you’re on and lay it against the side of you. “I think we should take Callie back so she can have her graduation.”

Joe looks over at you, brows furrowed. “I thought we were just going to do something here?”

“I know, and I think we still can, but I don’t want to take that from her. She was really excited about graduating.” It’s something you’ve been thinking about a lot, both as a teacher and a mom. It’s so important for children to feel and be able to celebrate their accomplishments. Sure, it’s only preschool, but it’s still a big deal for her.

You want her to be able to celebrate with her ‘classmates.’

And you express as such.

“She should be able to celebrate with the other kids. Plus, and I know right now, she’s still excited about them, but I don’t know, something tells me she’s going to struggle with some form of jealousy when the babies get here.”

Joe nods, not necessarily disagreeing with you. “But, that’s not entirely abnormal, right?”

“No, doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier to deal with though.” Frowning, it’s only now you also think about how that might be for you as well. For almost five years, you’ve been able to devote all of your time and attention onto one child. 

Now, it’s about to be four.

“Hey.” Joe, forever adept at reading you, brings his hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to land on him. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

His words, as per usual, comfort you greatly. “You’re right.” His thumb flicks your chin, as you chuckle. “It’s probably good her little spoiled self is spending all this time with you now. Before she has to share you.”

His scowl makes you snort as he drops his hand back to your ever growing belly. “She’s not spoiled.”

“Joe, as the kids say, be so fucking for real.”

“What?”

Ignoring the fact that this man literally probably still has an AOL email with out of touch he is, you continue with your very valid point. “That little girl is spoiled rotten. You give her whatever she wants.”

“She doesn’t ask for much.”

“Not you being in straight up denial.” He’s so down bad for Callie Bear. It’s not even funny. “Need I remind you of her little tantrum two weeks ago? Baby, the way you folded so quickly should have been recorded. Tribal Chief, my ass. Got taken down by a four year old.”

Joe shoves you gently. “Shut up.”

Laughing, you continue, “just admit it, she has you wrapped around her lil’ finger, and she knows it. That’s why she tried you the way she did, but I mean it, next time it happens, and it will, set her little butt straight. She can take it.”

Joe’s frown doesn’t make it any easier for you to hold in your laughter. “I don’t like being mean to her.”

“It’s not being mean, baby. It’s being a parent. As much as she loves to play with you like you’re one of her little friends, you’re not. You’re her dad. She needs to respect you as such.”

“She does,” he defends, and you sigh, knowing this is probably just a battle you won’t win. Quieting down, you decide to switch topics to something you’ve been thinking more about as you prepare for the arrival of your children.

“I’m gonna tell her, you know. When she gets older, that I’m the reason you weren’t there the first few years of her life.”

Joe sits up in the bed, removing his hand from your stomach, concern evident all over his handsome face. “Y/N—”

You lift your hand to silence him. “No, she’s going to eventually ask, and I’m not going to lie to her. Whatever anger she feels would be justified, and I’ll handle it.” 

You’ve thought about this more and more as you progress with your pregnancy. The fact that these babies will get to experience Joe from day one when Callie didn’t. There’s undeniable unfairness, and should she ever want to know just why Joe was MIA at the beginning, you will be honest with her.

You’ll make sure she knows that it was you who decided to keep her a secret from her father. How specific you’ll get will depend on her age, but you’re not a fan of lying to and holding secrets from kids when it directly impacts them.

You know firsthand how thinking your dad didn’t want to be around can fuck with someone’s mental.

You won’t let that be the case with Callie.

Joe looks just as bothered, like he doesn’t want you doing anything that could impact how Callie sees you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do and will, baby.” You place your hand to his cheek, his beard a little more outgrown and slightly unkempt as he truly relaxes in the embrace of vacation. “Because that’s one thing I never did and would never do. I never let anyone say any disrespectful shit about you not being in Callie’s life. Amir would try it a lot, and I shot him down every time.”

The mention of Amir brings a scowl to Joe’s handsome face. It’s a bit of a distraction technique you’re grateful worked. This will also be a revisited topic over the years, clearly. “I don’t know what the fuck you saw in him.”

Small smile on your face, you shrug, “he’s not ugly, and his dick was decent.” And before he can say anything smug and smart, “yours is better, duh. Why you think I’m giving you all these kids, huh?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You gotta have God tier dick for me to push out not one but gonna be four of your big headed ass children. Boy, I wish you would try to leave me. You gon be wrestling into your eighties with how much I’ll come for you in child support.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple, “you know I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

“Of course not, who the hell is gonna want me with all these damn kids?” The topic at hand reminds you of the book on the side of your bed, the previous reason you two were taking a break from figuring out your approach for letting friends and family know about the courthouse wedding. “Now, we really need to start deciding on names. I’m almost five months.” Pretty soon you’ll be finding out the sexes of the babies. It’s crazy to you how quickly this pregnancy is passing by, most likely due to the happiness you feel. 

Time flies when life is good. 

“Did you get Callie’s list?” 

He curses. “Shit, I forgot.”

You wave him off. “No worries.” Sitting further up in bed, you shout out, “Callie Bear! Bring us your list for baby names!” 

She doesn’t say anything, and you start to try again when she comes running into the room, Disney notebook in one hand and her American Doll in the other. She doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit on her knees at the end, “here you go, mommy!”

You accept her notebook that’s already opened to her list of potential baby names that she came up with. “Thank you, baby.” Callie switches to sitting with her legs crossed, her doll that looks just like her, courtesy of her rich ass daddy, smack dab in the middle. “Let’s see.”

A smile falls on your face as you share the notebook with Joe, pointing out the first name that he also smiles at. 

“Moana.” Predictable. So predictable. “Maui. Hei Hei. Tamatoa.” Joe coughs beside you to clearly hold in his laugh. “Baby….are these all names from Moana?”

Callie nods happily. “And Toy Story and Encanto and The Little Mermaid,” she essentially continues to sing-song list off damn near every Disney movie ever created. “The babies have to like Disney too, mommy! Like me, you, and Grandma.”

“You’re so right.” To be fair, you really shouldn’t have expected too much more. She is one Disney loving kid, through and through. “Well, thank you so much for the list, Callie Bear.”

“Daddy, did you make a list?” She asks, head tilted as she gently caresses the top of her doll’s head.

“Not yet, baby. Mommy and I are gonna make one together.” 

“I like baby Moana.” 

He chuckles. “But you’re our little Moana.”

She pouts and corrects, “no, I’m Callie.” Her sass makes you laugh. Joe wasn’t entirely wrong. She really is a lot like you sometimes. “I want a baby sister named Moana.”

“What if they’re all boys?”

You and Callie have similar reactions. It’s just that yours is one of horror and hers is more of shock.

“Noooo, I want a little sister.” 

Adding onto Callie’s vehement protest, you make your own strong thoughts and feelings known. “And I am not pushing out three boys at once, Joe. You done lost your god—”

“What do you want for your birthday, Callie Bear?” You’re partially thankful for the save but also irritated he’s asking this question he already knows is gonna generate a wild ass answer.

“A puppy!”

See.

You do your best to use the perfect combination of understanding yet assertiveness. “Baby, we done had this conversation before, we are not getting a puppy until you’re at least ten.”

“But, I’ll be old!”

“Exactly, old enough to take care of a puppy.” One look at Joe, and you can see he’s about to open his mouth and probably find some reason to ‘agree’ with or at least defend Callie’s request. “Absolutely not. No dog until she’s older, and that’s final.”

Callie, understandably, does not agree nor like this rule, and it’s evident in her deep pout and the way she crosses her arms over her little body. “Not fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, buttercup.” You retort, quickly reminding her as you take in her appearance. “Speaking of, it’s almost time for your wash day….”

The infamous, dreaded day of nonstop hair washing and styling is enough to wipe her smile away and award her a brand new reason to start whining, “I don’t want to.”

The feeling is mutual. “Neither does mommy, but we gotta do it eventually, Callie Bear.” Looking over at Joe, you inform him, “and you will be present for this ordeal, sir, so you can learn how to do her hair for me.”

He looks confused, nose turned up. A chuckle is withheld at how much he and his daughter mimic each other in this situation. “Baby, I don’t know how to do hair.”

Sucking your teeth, you smartly point out, “you do your own!”

“I barely do anything with my hair. You know this.” 

Damn. He’s right. Lucky ass. “Regardless, when I get too big to be bending over the sink like that, someone’s gonna have to do it.”

Of course, Joe’s smartass just decides to throw out something that should probably be discussed before saying around Callie, “I’ll take her to your mom.”

Callie’s eyes light up a bit. “Grandma!”

“Joe.” Lord, this man got too much money or something. “You seriously are going to fly our daughter out to my hometown so my mama can do her hair?”

He shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with what’s being proposed. “Yeah.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you lean further back in the pillows of the bed. “You are too—” However, you’re cut short mid-sentence, face and chest dropping simultaneously, the change in your disposition enough to catch Joe’s attention. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s sitting up even more, expertly masking the concern that’s growing by the second. Recognizing this, you will that small smile to start forming on your face, shaking your head as you motion for him and Callie to move closer.

“Mommy?” Callie is just as confused as you reach for both her and Joe’s hands, placing them on your belly, trying to find the spot of origin. “What—”

This time, she’s the one to stop mid-sentence as she feels it, the sensation you last felt when you were pregnant with her. Callie’s face is still set with understandable confusion, but your gaze on Joe reveals minimal concern and an abundance of amazement. 

“What is that, mommy?” Callie finally asks. The emotion in your throat takes you back a bit. You’re not typically a super emotional person, but there’s something about this moment, about feeling your babies kick for the first time and being able to share it with your fiance and child that does something to you. Knocks at those pillars that hold up your resolve. 

“That’s the babies. They’re kicking.” You explain, smiling a bit as Callie looks at you in horror.

“Why are they hurting you?”

“They’re not, sweetie. That’s what babies do. As they get bigger and grow, they need to move around and sometimes kick. You did the same thing to me.” Adding some playfulness into your voice, there’s a level of relief to see she appears less concerned. 

Your attention, however, is brought back to Joe as he kisses your temple, hand still planted on your stomach, clearly soaking up every bit of this precious, cherished moment. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your temple. It’s such a simple statement, a little three letter sentence that means more than anyone could ever understand. Moving your hand to the side of his face, you both laugh as Callie moves her face to your stomach. 

“Don’t kick mommy too much, okay, little babies?” The determination on her face should be captured and locked away for safekeeping for the rest of time. “She’s the bestest mommy ever and pretty and smart and—”

“—and still not getting you a puppy.” While your daughter is undoubtedly one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever come across, she’s also intelligent as hell. And you know her like the back of your hand. Enough to know where she’s headed with this. 

And, you’re proven correct when she rolls her eyes again, making a ‘hmmph’ sound that has Joe chuckling next to you. She then sets her little plotting sights on Joe as she takes her hand from your stomach and moves to crawl into his lap.

You have to keep yourself from rolling your own eyes as she pulls out that sickeningly sweet voice and holds onto his shirt. “Daddy?”

Joe doesn’t hesitate to answer right away. “Yes, baby?” One look at him, and you already know what the answer is going to be. This man is so weak for this little girl. It’s not even funny. 

“Hallie wants a friend…..” Joe’s eyebrows cave in confusion as he looks over at you. 

Gesturing to her American Girl doll on the edge of the bed, you fill him in, “that’s what she named the doll.” 

He chuckles, clearly amused by the name that rhymes with hers. “She does?”

Callie nods, that excitement building back up. “Two friends!”

Mouth dropping, you prepare to put this child in her place when Daddy Warbucks beats you to it, living up to his reputation.

“Well, then we need to get her two friends.”

“Yay!” Callie celebrates, hugging Joe who ignores your look of disapproval. “Can I make her friends too?” 

And once again, the first living, breathing bank to ever exist is quick to fold. “Of course, Callie Bear.”

“Yay!” She cheers yet again for another way too easy battle. It’s not even a battle at this point. Battle would mean that both parties have somewhat of a chance, and Joe is clearly putty for his little girl. “Thank you, daddy.” She seals the deal with a hug and kiss on his cheek before climbing off the bed, grabbing Hallie as she shares, “I’m gonna make them now!”

With her tablet, clearly. The tablet you’d bet any money Joe once again disabled the time limits on. 

Lord, you’re about to have five damn children to take care of at this point. 

It’s only when Callie is out of the room and on her way to celebrate yet another successful day of finessing her daddy that you punch this man in his big ass arm. 

“What?” It’s him having the audacity to sound and look confused that has you ready to kick him out of the room. 

“What do you mean what?” Angling your body more toward him, you explain, “Joe, why are you buying her more dolls? American Girl dolls, at that. I know you must have paid at least $300 for the first one you got her. I saw all them accessories.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, because he can’t. Callie had always asked you for one, and while you could have scraped some money together to make it happen, you couldn’t come to grips with just how many other more useful things one could do with that money. “She doesn’t need them dolls, babe.”

“You gon’ let her get a puppy now?”

An easy ass answer. “Hell no.”

He has the nerve to catch a slight attitude with you as he affirms, “then she’s getting the dolls.”

Rubbing your temples, you realize this isn’t a ‘fight’ you’re not going to win. “You know what, whatever. You do what you want, but I’m telling you right now, these—” You bring his hand back to your belly. “—babies are not going to be spoiled like their big sister. They gon be like Oliver Twist and grateful for a bowl of soup.”

He moves his hand around, probably trying to see if he can feel any more movement. “Callie is grateful.”

“For now.” Not really wanting to have this circular dialogue with him, you grab your phone to see a couple missed texts but open the one from your mom first, instantly rolling your eyes. “Not this again.”

The shift in your voice catches Joe’s attention. “What?”

Shaking your head, you show him the thread, thumb right next to the link for an article on ‘melanin maternal mental health’. 

Talk about fucking alliteration. 

“I don’t know what’s been up with her lately, but she’s been sending me all these links for articles and like motivational photos about mental health and motherhood.” You explain to him, going to heart the message and send a quick response to at least show some appreciation. Because there is a little there. That your mom cares about you so much. But the concern isn’t necessarily valid or needed..

This is the happiest you’ve been in some time. A long time. If ever.

Nothing is going to change that.

Especially being a mother to three more children. 

Placing your phone back on the nightstand, a glance at Joe reveals he’s debating something. “What?”

He moves closer to you, hand pushing back some of your coils. “Been thinking about that movie thing…..”

The smile on your face grows as you move closer, eyes twinkling with all the curiosity in the world. “What did you decide?”

—------

Megan is having a wonderful day.

One of the best she’s had in a while.

Not only did she manage to wake up on time, but the coffee she ordered from this cute little cafe she found while on a business trip in Denver a couple months ago awaited her on the outside of her apartment door when she got back from her pilates class the night before.

And there’s few things she loves more than a delicious cup of morning Joe.

A smirk falls on her face as she hums “Here Comes the Bride” while engaging in her extensive shower routine, admiring the expert work of her wax lady. Body hair has always been an absolute no. But, it’s when she moves the loofah across the weight of her heavy breast that Megan imagines hands and not her loofah. Big hands that would cup her boobs roughly as he forces her to turn around, slams her up against the shower wall and fucks her hard from behind, her moans and shouts of pleasure dancing across the tile, alerting everyone of just who owns this pussy.

Hand gliding down her wet, nude body, she keeps the vision going, slender thighs clenching together at the thought of him forcing her on her knees, his dick down the back of her throat, eyes watering as he mouth fucks her.

“Joe….” Thin fingers slip past wet folds as she realizes she’s going to be a couple minutes late for work.

So worth it though. 

Because Megan hasn’t come like that in years. Her legs are practically wobbly as she finally exits the shower, bathroom mirror completely fogged to where she has to grab a towel to clear up a section so she can see herself.

The pink tinge of her cheek brings a sly smile to her face. 

“I can’t wait until we can be together, my love…” A sweep of sadness comes over her as she grabs her phone, admiring his handsome face on her lock screen and opens Apple Music to play his entrance music, selecting the repeat button before she continues with her routine. 

It takes her about the usual time.

And soon enough, Megan is out the door, having finished her delicious coffee and opted to just have a banana for breakfast. There’s no time for unnecessary caloric intake.

She has to start preparing for the wedding. 

Walking into the office, right away, she can detect the almost sullen atmosphere and does her best to match the vibe.

To play along. 

And before she can go to her office bestie, Paige, to “find out” why everything feels so off, the team is pulled in for a mandatory meeting.

Luke’s quiet demeanor does take her a bit back. He’s never quiet. She’s not complaining though. Not at all.

As soon as everyone is seated, he starts off with the general pleasantries that are weighed by the sadness in his voice. And then he gets into it. “I know some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I—uh—I got some bad news.” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There’s uh—no way to say this, but Susan Jackson was found dead this morning.”

As an array of gasps and shocked countenances fill the room, Megan does her best to blend in, to play along with the genuine surprise of all of her coworkers.

Paige leans over to whisper to Megan, eyes also watery, “they say she killed herself. That she was found her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Window was open and everything.”

Megan expertly fakes a horrified expression. “Oh my god, how heartbreaking.” She even manages to crank out some tears that don’t shed but get the job done. “I can’t believe she’s gone….”

“Megan.” She lifts her head, eyebrows also raising. “I know you worked close with Susan on a couple of clients, and you also know she was set to assist Roman Reigns on his debut film, but with Susan gone….”

Megan shakes her head, pulling out a few sniffles. “It’s okay. I’ll….I’ll do it. I’ll take Reigns as my client.”

And my husband.

Luke gives her a nod of appreciation, wiping at his eyes as he clears his throat and continues to address the room.

It takes almost everything in her not to roll her eyes. The woman was fucking fifty for crying out loud. 

She lived long enough. 

He says something about grief counseling, the suicide hotline, blah blah blah.

Megan does her best to listen but mostly tunes out the rest of the meeting. It’s irrelevant. She has what she wants. Now, it’s time to go after who she wants, the thought alone creating such an intense, euphoric feeling inside of her stomach as she casually traces the brand new tiny letter ‘J’ she now has tattooed on her ring finger.

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 16

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Run to You” by the Pentatonix

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Physical altercation, perilous situations, fire hazards, injuries, angst, Nick and Azazel being evil psychos. 

Part 16: “Break Down the Gates”

The holiday couldn’t last forever. Eventually, you had to go back to work.

Dean didn’t like it, and neither did you. Hell, even Sam had tried to find an opening in the district attorney’s office for you. Unfortunately, all of the positions you were remotely qualified for were filled.

And as your bills had to get paid, it meant you had to take Betsy all the way up to the 22nd floor of the Savage & Co. building on a Monday morning.

Dean was already calling you.

You couldn’t answer until you got off the elevator and away from its shitty reception, but you let out a sigh before you called him back.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” Dean asked.

“I’m good. I just got to my office,” you replied. I was also fine 20 minutes ago on the road.

You had to be patient though. You knew he was worried about you, now for more than one good reason.

“Good. Got your taser all charged up?”

“Yep, it’s in my purse,” you said. You closed the door to your office and locked it. “Which is going in my desk. You’re at the station?”

“Yeah, having my coffee right now.”

“Okay, tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do,” said Dean. “You need anything, just call me. If you can’t get ahold of me, call Cas, or Sam, or even my dad.”

“I promise I will,” you replied. “I have to get to work here, but I hope you have a good day. And be safe.”

“That I will,” he promised in turn. “You too, baby.”

You smiled.

Once you hung up with Dean and got settled at your desk, you started by powering through your work emails. All too soon, however, there was a knock at your door. You fought against the tremor of unease that ran up your spine.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Marv,” replied your coworker, through the door. “Since when do you lock yourself in your office?”

You let out a breath and smiled. You got up and went to let him in. “I’ve found that people are less likely to interrupt me when they can’t get in.”

When the door opened, Marv gave you a look of begrudging acceptance.

“I hear ya,” he said. The man was a hermit himself, so if anyone was going to understand your self-barricading, it was Marv.

He handed you a hard-copy manilla envelope containing his monthly report, because he also had a disdain for email. 

“Why don’t you give this to Nick yourself?” you asked with a frown.

Marv held up placating hands. “Because he’s an ass, and I can only deal with so much idiocy in my life.”

“Then give it to Josh! He’s the new Senior Manager,” you pointed out.

“Josh kisses Nick’s ass. Therefore, he’s become an even bigger idiot,” Marv replied. “I’m telling you, my constitution just can’t bear it.”

You rolled your eyes and took the folder from him. “All right, get outta here. I’ll deal with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. He soon left to return to his hole of an office. You’d only been in there once. It had been stacked to high heaven with books and loose papers. You didn’t know how the man functioned, but you assumed it was equal parts caffeine and Prozac.

So you took the report, and you went up to the 30th floor for the first time in months.

You went down the hall to Josh’s office first, but you could hear from the other side of the closed door that he was locked in a meeting with one of the more difficult clients.

You could come back later, or just drop the folder off with Nick’s assistant.

You went back down the hall and found that Nick’s office door was cracked open, but you weren’t about to go in, even just to deliver a simple report. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone enter his office.

His assistant was out on a break, it seemed, so you couldn’t just give it to her. You contemplated leaving it on her desk with a note. But that’s when you heard the voices coming from within the office.

“As you know, my father’s back in town,” you heard Nick say. You inched closer to the door and cautiously peeked through the three inches of space in the doorway. There was another man inside, slightly taller than Nick, but leaner. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a plaid shirt. His long arms were crossed as he listened.

You could tell by the way he stood, however, that this wasn’t an associate from one of their accounts. He didn’t look like a businessman or a lawyer. The way he stood was sharper, more calculated even in his laxness.

Your brain caught up with the conversation as Nick continued to speak.

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your gaze widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

You blinked in shock. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

Your heart pounded while you searched for a way out of the hallway, out of plain sight. You found the nearest bathroom and went into the women’s. It seemed empty, at least.

There you rushed into one of the stalls and locked it. You realized that you had your phone in your pocket, and you took it out with trembling hands. Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name as panicked breaths escaped you.

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

“He’s Nick’s father,” you hissed. Trying to contain yourself and speak quietly was not easy. “I met him once at a company networking event, like a month after I got hired. Daniel Savage. He built Savage & Co. from the ground up. But he handed off the reigns to Nick years ago.”

It seemed to take John a moment to compute on that one, but he eventually replied.

“You’re at the office now?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah!” you replied testily. “I’m hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

“Okay, take it slow, all right?” he said. “You’re gonna go back to your office, calm. Like you didn’t just hear what you heard. You’re gonna take an early lunch, and you’re gonna come straight to the precinct for me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay. I need to call Dean,” you said.

“I’ll fill him in. Just focus on getting out of there,” John said.

You agreed, but you still felt shaky when you ended the call. No one had entered the bathroom, and it had been a few minutes already, so you chanced stepping out of the stall and into the hallway. That too was empty.

You sucked in another steadying breath. This time you went down the stairs to get back to your office. It felt unusually warm in the stairwell. Hot enough that you actually started to sweat on the way down to the 22nd floor.

Damn, did the AC break or something?

You made it back to your office, though when you opened the door, you were unable to be relieved. Nick sat in your chair at your desk. He gave you a smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out,” you snapped. You had no patience for another tête-à-tête with him today; especially after what you just saw.

And it hit you then. You were a witness.

You eyed Nick more warily. He had one of his gold golf clubs in his hand, and he leaned on it as he stood. He set up a putter’s stance next to your desk and hit a golf ball with a gentle swing. The ball rolled into your flat shoe.

“I want to go over that report you brought upstairs,” he said.

You shook your head and went cautiously over to your desk. Your purse was inside (you were kicking yourself for not taking it with you upstairs). Nick was too close to your desk for comfort, until he moved to retrieve his golf ball. It allowed you to move farther into the room.

“Anything you want to discuss can be done via email. Right now, I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” you lied. Your gaze was off the man for maybe a few seconds while you grabbed your purse from inside the desk. Another realization hit you in that moment.

How did he know it was me who brought the report?

By the time you looked up, Nick was shutting the door to your office. He tilted his head at you with a darker edge to his smile.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he said.

You steeled yourself with a breath. You felt inside your purse, and your hand wrapped around your taser. You pulled it out and switched it on, pointing it towards him.

“Step away from the door or I’ll fry your ass,” you threatened. It lost its effect somewhat, with the way your hand was shaking, but it was a threat, nonetheless.

Nick raised his brows at you. He still had his golf club in hand. His movements were slow as he stepped away from the door, and closer towards you.

“Sure you know how to work that thing?” he teased with a shrug of his shoulders. “If I were you, I’d take a breath. Relax a bit. Come sit on my knee.”

That last bit was teasing, despite the way he eyed you, even now with a shade of desire. The kind that claimed and stole in its taking. It made you want to spit in his face.

“You’re a bastard,” you replied. “Turns out, the bastard apple doesn’t fall far from the bastard tree.”

“Watch it,” Nick warned. You saw the dangerous edge in his blue eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about.”

He swung the club at your head.

You managed to duck, yelping as it crashed into a lamp instead. You tried to run for the door, but that was when Nick grabbed you by the hair and nearly yanked the hairclip right out.

A short scream escaped your lips as you grabbed for his wrist. He shoved you hard into the wall, where you lost your footing and fell. Your head cracked against the accent table that once held the lamp, and your vision blurred on the way down. Glass crackled under your arm and bit into your cheek.

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser. His hands fell away from you and he went down like an elephant, jolting and writhing on the ground. You gasped for breath above him while you realized what you’d just done. You tilted your head down at him.

No, you weren’t done.

You grabbed his golf club with your free hand. When he tried to reach for your ankle, you jammed the heavy club into his hand until he shouted in pain. For every moment of frustration, anxiety, and fear this man had caused you, you gave it back to him with one heavy swing of that club into his stomach. (And maybe one more for good measure.) 

He doubled over, groaning, coughing a bit of blood. You tossed the golf club and grabbed your purse with a shaking hand. You left him where he laid.

As soon as you open the door, however, you were pushed back by the cloud of incoming smoke. You coughed and squinted against it, but your eyes widened again when you realized what was happening.

The building was on fire.

For some reason the alarms weren’t going off, but it was clear to see what was in front of you. Smoke was clogging the halls. People were rushing out of their offices for the stairwell. You couldn’t help glancing back at Nick; he was slowly pulling himself to his feet.

Part of you knew he might not make it if you left him, but when he looked up at you, with pure hatred, your fear overrode any mercy that might’ve made you turn around.

So you fled for the stairwell behind the small crowd. There were flames making their way down along with the smoke. That was all right, because you all were running in the opposite direction.

You had to blink a drop of blood out of your eyes, and you raised a shaky hand to a cut above your brow, which was also tender to the touch. You were bleeding, clearly, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You were just trying your best not to get pushed or trampled while you hastened down several floors.

The signs pointed to Floor 10 when you felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, you realized. You were about to fish it out of your pocket, but you were forced to stop short on the stairs, along with everyone else. 

The flames were coming from the floor below as well, blocking your exit.

Once again, Dean frowned while checking his phone. You still hadn’t answered his text from an hour ago. Benny came to sit beside him on the couch in the firehouse common room.

“What’s got you spacin’ out?” Benny asked, noting his friend’s mood.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But I’ve got a bad feeling, Benny.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Before Dean could answer, his phone rang in his hand. He perked up to answer it, until he realized it was his dad calling. He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean greeted.

“Thanks to your girl, we know who Azazel is,” John said. “Daniel Savage. Nick is his son.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach; his shock was followed swiftly by worry.

“What? How’d she find that out?”

“She called me this morning. I told her to come straight to the precinct, but she’s not here yet. That was an hour ago,” John said gravely.

Dean’s eyes widened.

And then the alarm sounded overhead. Over the intercom the dispatcher reported a working fire at a commercial building. The address was the same as your work building: Savage & Co.

“Is that you?” John asked, once the intercom message was finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was already up and out of the firehouse, getting his turnout gear on with the phone pressed to his ear. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his tone was rock steady.

“If she’s still in that building, I’m gonna find her.”

Firehouses 18 and 20 had already arrived by the time Firehouse 25 got to the scene of the Savage & Co. building. The flames were sky-high, consuming from the top and the bottom. Just by looking at it, Dean thought there had to have been at least two points of origin (where the fire was started). He doubted this was an accident.

“Okay, 25,” Chief Singer said to the entire Truck 79 and Rescue Squad crew. “House 20 got here first, so Chief Sanderson’s calling the shots. He requested our help in clearing the first five floors. Their crew is already on floors 30 through 20. House 18 has the middle.”

Dean went up to Bobby and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. He filled him in on what John had just told him about Azazel, and that you were most likely somewhere in the building.

“She’s in there, Chief. I have to find her,” Dean said.

Bobby saw the desperation in the younger man’s eyes, and he sympathized. “Have you tried calling her again?”

“She’s not answering,” Dean replied. “If he found out what she knows, he could be after her. That means she could be somewhere near the top.”

“Or she’s in the middle. Or she’s already out of the building,” Bobby reasoned. He quelled Dean’s protest with a raised hand. It then fell on the younger man’s shoulder. “I understand, son. But I’ve got a protocol to follow, and so do you, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s lips pressed together. He knew his rank and his responsibility, but you were in danger. You could already be hurt, or trapped, or…

Dean rounded up Truck 79 with swift, barking orders. After donning their helmets and masks, his and Benny’s team made their way inside. The first floor was wall to wall rolling flames. The heat was nearly overwhelming, like entering the gates of hell.

There was no moving safely through the first floor, so they had to move on to the closest stairwell and try to make it up to the second. Dean held Benny back for a moment.

“I’m going up! Stick with the guys,” Dean said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony inside the stairwell.

Benny frowned. “What’re you doin’? You heard the Chief!”

Dean shook his head. He knew he was about to defy a direct order, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that you were still in the building somewhere.

“I’ve gotta find her,” he said.

“You think I don’t want to find Andréa?” Benny said. “She hasn’t answered my calls either. They could be anywhere, Dean!”

Dean clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re making my point, man.”

And he took off up the stairs before Benny could stop him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Benny shouted after him.

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked. He and Gordon were the only ones to hang back while the rest of their crew followed their orders and searched the second floor, not realizing that their Lieutenant was no longer with them.

“To go be an idiot,” Benny growled. But he wasted no more time. He followed Dean up the stairwell.

Gordon shared a quick look with Jack before he started his own climb up the stairs.

“You can follow protocol, or you can back up the Lieutenant,” Gordon called down.

In that moment, Jack made a decision. He followed Gordon and Benny.

You had to follow the rest of the crowd after you all couldn’t make it down the rest of the stairs safely. It landed you somewhere on the 10th floor, where the group scattered. Your head was aching, your heart pounded in your ears, and you didn’t know where to go.

You fled for the stairwell on the other side of the building, and in turning a corner, you smacked right into Andréa. You gasped when you caught hold of each other.

“Oh my God!” she cried, and she grabbed you into a hug. “Are you okay? Why’re you bleeding?”

“Catch up later,” you choked out. It was so hard to breathe; you were coughing every few moments.

She looked on you worriedly and let out a cough herself. “Come on.”

She pulled you along with her by the arm. You joined a smaller group that were heading for the opposite stairwell. Unfortunately, not all of you would make it there.

A piece of the weakened ceiling crumbled and fell in a fiery heap. Andréa had been just a couple steps in front of you, and it meant you saw it before she did. You pushed her forward so she would make it across. You were forced to stop short and protect your face from the embers.

You nearly tripped and fell back, but you used the wall to steady yourself. You looked up at the sound of Andréa calling your name. You found her terrified face. There was now a wall of fire separating you from her and the rest of the group.

“Keep going!” you coughed. “I’ll find another way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” she called back. She pushed away the man that tried to urge her on towards the stairwell.

“Go!” you shouted, even though it raked across your throat. You forced yourself to straighten up and turn away from her. The only chance you had was if there was a way around this hallway that still led to the stairs.

Oh shit, you gasped when you turned the corner. The fire was only getting worse. The building was being consumed, and you almost couldn’t see past a few feet in front of you with all the smoke. It stung in your eyes and clogged your throat.

You stumbled along until you found a room that you could escape into. It was another restroom. The fire hadn’t yet reached inside the women’s bathroom on this floor; maybe you could wait it out like you would a tornado.

Okay, clearly I’m fucking delirious, you thought. You huddled in a corner under the sink and tried and failed to take even breaths without coughing or panicking. You pulled out your phone with shaking hands and tried once again to call Dean. The reception was absolute shit in the entire building now.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Tears slipped down your cheeks.

But despite your dismayed thoughts, he actually answered.

“Hey! Baby, are you there?!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You clutched at the phone. “Dean!”

You coughed, and you realized smoke was rising under the bathroom door now. The fire would spread here soon enough.

“Where are you? I’m here at your building!”

“Bathroom, 10th floor!” you managed to reply. “I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming right now,” he said. “Stay put for me.”

“Yeah,” you said, with a shaky breath. You couldn’t exactly leave. “Dean, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Where’s…r—oom?”

He was glitching in and out. You gripped the phone tighter in panic. “Dean?”

“Can…ear m…”

“Dean!” Your tears fell anew. You had another reason to struggle for breath as you tried to reach him.

You slid out from under the sink to try and get better reception, but it was no use. The call failed.

“Shit!” You nearly tossed your cell across the room out of sheer frustration.

Then you paced back and forth, trying to think of what to do. Should you leave your momentary shelter to go and find him, or would that just run the risk of him never finding you.

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to do.

God, I’m so fucking screwed…

You slumped against the wall and tried to stifle your coughing, all while you also tried (and failed) to form some kind of a plan.

Until the bathroom door bursting open startled a scream out of you. Was the fire coming in?!

The move did allow more smoke to infiltrate the bathroom, but instead of the fire, you saw a firefighter in all his gear. This time, it did include the helmet.

“Fire Department!” he called out.

You would know that voice anywhere. And even through the mask, you recognized the man’s eyes when he went to you.

“Dean,” you sobbed. It was halted only by a series of lung-wracking coughs and wheezing. He quickly took his helmet and mask off so he could fit the mask over your soot-covered face.

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I gotcha, baby, just breathe,” Dean encouraged. His arm was around your waist, holding you close while the oxygen finally allowed you to take in slower breaths and relax against him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, huh?” he said. He put his helmet back on.

You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Don’t you need the mask?”

You were still having trouble breathing, coughing on every other word. Dean shook his head.

“You need it more right now,” he said.

You realized that Benny was holding the bathroom door open.

“We gotta go!” he said.

“Benny, Andréa was here,” you said. His eyes widened behind his mask. “She got out, I think. She made it to the west stairwell.”

“Okay, yeah, because no one’s getting out the east wing,” Gordon said. You noted him standing just behind Benny, with Jack in tow.

“There’s a block,” you said, pointing just ahead where you saw the pile of debris. More parts of the ceiling had crumbled around it, making it a fiery minefield. There was no other way around it at this point—only through it.

Gordon and Jack went through first, followed by Benny. With their jackets and protective gear, they were able to jump through like a flaming hoop. And they would be able to help catch you and Dean from the other side.

“Okay, you ready?” Dean asked.

“If I say no?” you said, holding onto him tighter. His hand soothed over your hair. You’d lost your clip a long time ago (along with your purse), so your hair was probably wild and frizzy and covered in soot, along with the rest of you.

Dean grinned down at you. “Then I’d say, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Even now, through your fear, he could make you smile. You steeled yourself and took a breath. You could hear it so clearly with the mask on. That, and your own heartbeat.

He counted down to three, and on the last beat, Dean covered your head and shoulders and ran with you under the flame-covered ceiling. He managed to help you jump over the fiery debris on the ground. On both of your heavy landings, a wooden support beam fell.

There was a shout from Benny, but it was too late. All Dean could do was cover you. The beam broke over his back and knocked his helmet clean off. He took you with him when he fell.

Your scream rang out—half at the fall, but mostly for Dean. It was Benny who dragged you and Dean out first. Gordon and Jack took over hefting an unconscious Dean, while Benny hauled you up onto your feet and led you to the west stairwell.

You passed out just as you felt fresh air hit the mask.

You woke to bright, fluorescent lighting that made you wince. An oxygen mask covered your mouth and nose and was strapped around your head. You made a sound of discomfort and tried to take it off, but a hand stilled yours.

“Don’t.”

Eileen’s concerned face came into view. You were confused, though happy to see her.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said. When you tried to speak, she held up a finger to you. Wait, said her eyes.

She took out her phone from her jean pocket to text someone.

“Sam is coming,” she told you, before she drew closer to sooth a hand up and down your arm. You felt tears in your eyes at just that small comfort.

They fell in earnest when Sam entered your hospital room. His eyes held the concern of a friend and a brother as he approached on your other side.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You wheezed a breath and rasped, “Water.”

Sam nodded and grabbed you a plastic cup filled with cold water. It felt like literal heaven once the mask was off and you were able to drink. He helped you while Eileen held the mask away from your face.

After you’d had all you could drink, he took the cup and Eileen placed the mask back over your face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked, after clearing your throat. You still sounded like a chain smoker, and your head was pounding. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” Sam said, with a sigh. But when he didn’t offer anything more, you raised expectant brows at him.

“What else?” you said. Your tone told him not to skimp on any more details.

Sam’s gaze met yours. “The beam burned through his jacket, on his back. It hit his head. They…had to perform a minor surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain, but he’s stable in recovery now.”

He was quick to add on that last bit when you began to crumble. Eileen encouraged you to breathe through your tears. The oxygen could only do half the battle if you didn’t breathe properly.

“I want to see him,” you said.

Sam frowned and held up a placating hand. “I don’t think that’s—”

You ignored him and tried to sit up. With or without his approval, you were getting out of this bed.

“Okay, you’re not listening,” Sam sighed, though he immediately went to help you. He shot Eileen an imploring look over your head.

She got the hint and helped you on her side. Together they helped you stand while you removed the mask, then the heart monitor and other wires taped to your torso.

The Emergency Department team had left your pants on, thank goodness, but they’d clipped through your blouse and bra. So the paper gown was mostly to cover your top half like a light blue poncho. It was a bit airy in the back, but Eileen held it closed for you. Right now, you didn’t care much about your modesty. You were also walking around the hospital barefooted.

At least Dean was on the same floor. It was just a long walk down the hall.

“Can you call Benny and ask how Andréa’s doing?” you asked, coughing a bit.

Sam eyed you in thinly veiled concern, but he agreed. The last he’d heard from Benny was that Andréa had been cleared by the paramedics with minor smoke inhalation. You were clearly worse.

Sam held you upright when you finally saw Dean. He had to guide you into a chair beside Dean’s bed, where he slept on his side. On his back was a large stretch of white gauze across his upper back, from nearly shoulder to side at an angle.

“The doctor said they’re only second-degree burns. It looks worse than it is,” Sam said quietly.

Eileen rubbed your back in the hopes that you’d stop crying.

You could only focus on the gauze, the smaller nicks and burns around Dean’s face, the bandage and thick gauze near his temple where they’d apparently had to drill into his skull. He also wore an oxygen mask, because if all that wasn’t enough, you were sure “smoke inhalation” was on the list, thanks to the way he’d given you his SCBA mask.

Gently, very gently, you took his hand. Your thumb swept over the back of it, over each knuckle.

“Did they say when he’d wake up?” you asked. You rubbed at your aching stomach. Does smoke inhalation cause nausea too?

Your chest was also tight. You’d head back to your room sooner or later and get the oxygen mask back on.

Before Sam could reply, you heard a groan below. You looked down at Dean with wide-eyed hope. It took a moment, but his eyes slid open. They were unfocused and dark, until they found your face.

You smiled tearfully. “Hey, baby.”

Your free hand caressed his cheek. His eyes briefly closed at your touch. When he realized you were holding his hand, he squeezed a bit. That was enough for you.

Just then, however, you had to let go of his hand. Whatever was left in your stomach from this morning seemed to be revolting. You turned your head quick to throw up onto the hospital floor.

Both Sam and Eileen called your name when you slid out of your chair and onto the floor. You blinked tears out of your eyes…or actually, it was black spots encroaching on your vision.

Sam pushed the chair out of his way to get to you. He gathered you into his arms and shouted for a doctor while Eileen went for the emergency button on Dean’s hospital bed.

The last thing you saw was Dean’s worried face out of the corner of your eye, before the blackness took you.

Dean could barely speak behind his oxygen mask, but Sam saw his worry as the nurses carried you away in a stretcher with Eileen following close behind. Sam crouched in front of his brother and clasped his hand.

“She’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look out for both of you,” Sam said. “Right now, you need to sleep.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. In that small gesture, Sam also saw his stubbornness. He almost smiled. You and Dean were a match made.

“Just rest, Dean. I’m going now to check on her, but not until you close your eyes,” Sam said. It took another stubborn minute, but Dean eventually relaxed as well as he was able. His eyes closed as he fell back under the pull of medication and painkillers.

“How’s he doing?” came the voice of their father in the doorway. Sam’s expression morphed from gentle to austere. His head turned towards his father.

“How does he look like he’s doing?” Sam asked. “He had a burning ceiling fall on him. He has the mother of all concussions, and he just saw his girlfriend collapse.”

John was quiet, in contrast to his youngest son’s ire. He stepped into the room and watched his eldest. Sam saw the man’s age in the lines around his eyes, in his slow gait when he raised a gentle hand to comb through Dean’s greasy hair, mindful of his injuries.

“This shouldn’t have fucking happened,” said John. His voice was tired and gruff. Sam knew what the weight of guilt looked like, but what he didn’t yet see was regret. If John hadn’t kept digging, digging, Azazel wouldn’t have taken it this far.

Okay, Sam didn’t yet have proof that Azazel burned down the Savage & Co. building…but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“No,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t have.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick shouted.

He was still dusted with soot and sporting some cracked ribs from the day’s activities. He’d stumbled into his father’s house, taken a bottle of bourbon from the man’s shelf and started drinking straight from the crystal glass.

Daniel eyed him coolly from the balcony, smoking a cigar. “Whatever do you mean, son?”

Nick was furious. He stomped over, not caring how expensive liquor was splashing on him.

“Why’d you burn the whole damn building?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve died!”

“Alistair got you out, didn’t he?” Daniel pointed towards his son with the hand that held his cigar. “See, unlike you, I think ahead.”

“I’m serious,” Nick hissed. “Our company is still important—”

“My company,” Daniel interjected, “is not that building. However, the building itself was a liability.”

Nick’s brows knit together in confusion and anger. “What the hell’re you talking about?”

Daniel took a long drag of his cigar, puffing in Nick’s face. The latter coughed. As if he hadn’t had enough smoke in his lungs today.

“Don’t you see?” Daniel asked, with a sigh that also said he wondered how he could’ve produced such a moron. “It puts distance between you and ‘Azazel’ if you’re also a victim of his threats. It destroys any physical evidence of me having been there, along with any files you would’ve eventually had to turn over to the police and the FBI.”

Nick let that idea sink into his brain. He realized that it did make sense…but he deflated as something else occurred to him.

“Uh…see, that would’ve worked, but, we have a problem,” Nick scratched his head. “Someone knows who you really are.”

By the time Nick finished explaining about you, and what you’d overheard, Daniel’s sharp gaze managed to strike fear into Nick’s heart.

Yet to his surprise, the other man’s temper didn’t blow. Daniel kept it all inside as he continued to smoke. Cigars tended to pacify him better than cigarettes.

His lips twitched at a humorless smile. “Well, that is a problem.”

“But she probably died in the fire, so we’re good,” Nick shrugged.

“No, I doubt she did,” Daniel sighed. “You’re not that lucky.”

He rolled his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nick’s arm and twisted, until his was crying out and pinned to the nearest wall. Daniel threatened to put out his cigar in the soft underbelly of the arm he held.

Nick looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Like everything else, that girl is a problem I’m going to fix,” Daniel said. “Along with the whole Winchester brood.” 

AN: 🫣 Don't hate me lol. It gets better for them, I promise. But we have a few more chapters left to go and a few more twists in store!

Next Time:

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

Keep Reading: PART 17

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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[jaime-brienne-fic-exchange]

Signups for the Fifth Annual Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange are now open! 

That’s right, we’re back baby! Thanks to the enthusiasm of you wonderful JB writers, the Jaime x Brienne fic exchange is back for 2024. 

What is the Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange?

For the past few years, we’ve been running a mid-year (or thereabouts) exchange for all JB writers. Interested writers sign up via the above form, and are assigned prompts from another participant. They must then write one completed fic of at least 1000 words incorporating one (or more, if inspiration strikes!) of these prompts. Fics are then posted, anonymously, between September 15th and September 30th, before identities are revealed on October 7th! 

By the end of the exchange, a participant will have written one fic and received one fic. There is no upper limit on the length of the fic you can write, however it must be completed and fully posted by September 30th.

Is there a requirement to join?

You must have an AO3 account and be willing to write a complete story of at least 1000 words before the due date. It doesn’t matter if you’re an old pro or it’s your first time writing a fic for the fandom, or even your first time writing a fic ever. 

What if I’ve dropped out in previous years?

In years past you would need to complete a Little Oathkeeper treat to sign up if you did not complete your assignment or inform us before the no fault default deadline, but we are offering a blanket amnesty this year. That means that even if you had to drop out super late or didn’t finish your fic (a very rare occurrence, but things happen), you can still sign up for 2024!  

How does matching work?

We use Google Forms to try to ensure everyone gets prompts within their expressed interests. When you sign up, you will answer some questions about both your reading and writing preferences–ratings, canons, squicks and triggers–as well as supply three prompts. The organisers will then match you with someone whose preferences and prompts align with yours on as many points as possible, while keeping an element of randomisation. If you’re interested in reading E-rated book canon, we won’t assign your prompts to someone only interested in writing T-rated modern AU! 

What are prompts?

Prompts can be anything really! Maybe it’s your favourite trope, or a song that makes you think of Jaime and Brienne. Maybe there’s a piece of fanart that makes your heart go pitter-patter, or a fic premise you would love to see. All forms of prompts are welcome, though we ask you to keep in mind that they are meant to be a jumping off point for your writer and anything too sparse or too detailed might be difficult. A good rule of thumb is to provide prompts that would get your own mind whirling with possibilities! 

What are the key dates?

Signups are open from TODAY until June 27TH, 23:59 UTC-10. (What time is that for me?)

Assignments will be sent out by JUNE 30TH, and completed fics must be posted by SEPTEMBER 30TH. This is a later writing window than previous years due to some real life commitments.

Consequence-free dropout deadline is SEPTEMBER 1ST. Any writers who dropout after this date or have incomplete fics at the end of the posting window will need to write a bonus gift before participating in future exchanges.

Fics are to be anonymously posted in the Ao3 collection between SEPTEMBER 15TH and SEPTEMBER 30TH, and authors will be revealed OCTOBER 7TH. 

Fic posting guidelines will be published closer to the due date.

Are you doing Knight Writers again?

Of course! Life happens and you may not be able to complete a fic on time, and that’s okay! Knight writers are wonderful volunteers who will step in and write a fic when people are unable to complete their assignment. This year knight write requests will go out via email and the Transformatives Werks Discord, and you don’t need to be an exchange participant to join–just keep your eyes peeled on Discord, or shoot me an email as jbficexchange@gmail.com to be added to the mailing list for Knight Write requests.

Any questions? Send an ask!

Sign up here

[babygorewhore]

Enter Sandman

Rafe Cameron x fem alternative reader!

After being hired by Rafe Cameron to be Wheezies music teacher, he asks you to give him his own lesson.

Hi so this is kinda short and I lowkey wanna burn it. And is it self inserted? Yes. But that’s fine. Anyway. Warnings! Oral! Male receiving! Daddy kink! Unprotected sex and praise requested by @gri959 I hope you like it baby!!! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx and barely proofread please be nice to me I’m sensitive.

Getting the email that Rafe Cameron hired you to be Wheezies music instructor truly was the last thing you expected Monday morning after opening your computer. You scoffed and had half a mind to reject the offer. You’d known each other through high school and he was an asshole to you. Made fun of your pogue status, style and your role in the band you were in. You’d even slapped him across the face one morning when he’d really pissed you off.

But you were both adults now. And the pay wasn’t something you could afford to say no to. Wheezie was requesting singing and guitar lessons. You worked for a company that sent you to Kooks homes for hour sessions. Sometimes two if they doubled the offer. You were scheduled today at four to go to his house.

It gave a list of her experience in the email and it wasn’t much. She’d briefly been in choir before her fathers death completely changed her schooling. You honestly felt sorry for her. First the loss of her father and now she was apparently living with Rafe.

You sighed and went to your music room where you kept special instruments and books for students. You selected a small electric acoustic guitar, one with a smaller body and thinner neck to accommodate her size. It was smooth to the touch as you gently picked up the case as you slung the bag filled with beginner books across your body and made your way out of the door of your apartment.

The house was even larger than you’d imagined when you arrived and parked in the driveway. You swallowed to give your dry mouth moisture as your boots crunched the pavement as you walked the path to the front porch.

You square your shoulders and ring the door bell.

Wheezie answered and gave you a grin. Her eyes brightened as she swept them over your instrument and she ushered you inside. “You’re right on time!”

“Yeah! I try to be.” You smiled at her as she walked you to the living room, the large space immaculately clean. You felt nervous to sit down in fear you’d mess up a pillow or something.

The first twenty minutes you established goals, genre, her vocal type and finally a lesson plan. She was a willing student and picked up on the first round of exercises rather quickly. A spark of excitement went through you as you adjusted her fingers on the neck of the guitar, she wasn’t quite strong enough to make a lot of noise on the strings but it wasn’t bad.

“You can stop watching us, weirdo.” She says and breaks your concentration as you tune your guitar again and your head snaps to the right.

Rafe was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression intrigued as he studied your hands holding the neck and body as you absentmindedly strummed. “Oh, hey.” You forced a polite smile and he nodded.

You stand and gently place the instrument on the stand. You walk over to him, listening as Wheezie hums her exercise and attempts a power chord. “Thank you for hiring me. I was surprised to see the email.”

He shrugs with a little eye roll. “Yeah, well you’re good. I remember you playing back in high school.” You snort and cross your arms.

“Yeah? I remember you being an asshole to me.” You remark and he gives you a half smirk.

“How can I make it up to you? Wanna teach me a couple things? You can show me how to play Enter Sandman. Isn’t that what your band played at the competition?”

“And won.” You smiled and he chuckled. “You serious about me teaching you something?”

“Sure. I mean I’m going to have to hear it for months aren’t I? Might as well fuck around a little.” You bristle at the flippant wave of his hand before nodding. “We can go in here.” He gestures with his head before walking to the other room.

“Hang tight, okay?” You tell Wheezie who gives you a half hearted mhm.

You follow him after grabbing your guitar, trailing after his tall body as he meanders to the kitchen and sits down at the table. “What? You don’t want Wheezie to hear you?” You raise your eyebrows.

“She’s fine. Are you afraid to be alone with me or something?” Rafe challenges and goosebumps rise on your arms.

“No. Of course not. I just don’t know why you’d want to hide your poor attempt at playing a secret.” You snort and he scoffs.

“You think I’ll be terrible? My own teacher, doubting me? I’m hurt, baby.” He places a hand on his heart and your own flutters at the nickname before you clear your throat.

“Well, let’s get started.”

He takes the guitar and places it across his lap. Rafe runs his fingers along the strings, testing them as his rings squeak against them. You move to settle in the seat next to him before he bends his hand awkwardly, his wrist shifting and you quickly stop him.

“No, no, see if you do that, it’s going to hurt overtime. What you want to do is relax your wrist,” you step behind him and lean down, adjusting his hold. Your mouth inches away from his ear. “Okay…that’s better. Good job,” You mutter and you notice a patch of his skin heating.

Rafe moves in his chair, his legs spreading wider and you place your fingers on top of his. “Perfect. That’s great. Just keep the pressure there. Don’t strain your arm.”

“Mmm, sounds like you enjoy telling me what to do, huh?” He quips and you pause. You go to move around him but he catches your arm. “No, keep going. I like hearing you boss me around.” He winks.

You roll your eyes before settling behind him again, your chin rests on the back of the chair as you strum with him. Rafe’s hand strength allowed him to make more noise with the strings but you noticed his lap. The way his body shifted. He was fucking hard. And that’s when you had an idea.

“You know…I think we should make sure you’re really paying attention.” He half turns at your words.

“Yeah? How’s that?”

You shrug and trail a finger along his shoulder and arm before you sink to the floor in front of him with a smile.

“Play exactly what I showed you. And try not to mess up.” You tell him as your hands find his belt, you undo it and tug his pants down. You palm him in the middle of his boxers, feeling his cock against your hand and he inhaled sharply, hitting the wrong note.

“Rafe. Try again.” You pull down his underwear to his mid thigh, his heavy dick slapping against his thigh and you moan at the sight of precum leaking from the tip. “If you don’t fuck up, I’ll let you cum.” You order him and swipe your tongue along the vein before dragging it out. You spit on your hand and find his balls, massaging them as you kitten lick his tip.

You take him between your lips, his soft skin against yours as you dig your nails into his thighs and he huffs out a breath but he plays the correct chord. You take more of him down your throat, your tongue working the underside of his cock as you start to move your head around and he hits an incorrect one. You start to pull back a little but he quickly corrects it. “Mmmm,” you moan as he hits the back of your throat.

“Not-fucking-fair.” He hisses as he continues to shakily strum as you gag around him before sloppily pulling off him, arousal pooling out of your mouth and your core tightening from his dark gaze on your face.

“Who said I play fair?” You challenged with a smirk and he growls before setting the guitar down on the floor, reaching forward to haul you on his lip.

“You wanna fucking play a game? Fine. But don’t forget who’s in charge here, baby girl.” Rafe slaps your ass and lowers you down on his cock, your covered cunt soaked as you grind down on him, your hips moving in a slow rocking motion. His hand moves to cup your neck.

“Dirty girl. Wanting to ride my dick with someone in the other room? Making yourself my own little fuck toy.” He squeezes your throat a little tighter as your hands settle on his shoulders, gripping tight as he slides your panties to the side and sinks you down on his cock.

His shaft fills you to the brim as you settle onto him, throwing your head back as you jerk your pelvis and take him more, your lips finding the crook of his neck and you suck his skin, making sure to leave a little bite mark.

“Fuck-“ he exhales and his fingers find your hair, pulling tightly. “Gonna make you spill with my cum. You gonna take it like a good girl? Take daddy’s cum in that sweet pussy?”

You whimper against him as he guides you while you bounce, his grip sliding to your tits and he gives them a gentle squeeze, testing the waters before your climax approaches while he pinches your nipples. Your cum gives him extra slick as he jolts harder, his own release spilling into you and ropes of cum fill your insides.

It drips out of your cunt and onto his lap. You both tremble as he holds you close, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So. How did I do for our first lesson, baby girl?” He smirks with a half laugh.

You shake your head and climb off, adjusting your fumbled clothes. “Not bad.” You look him in the eye and cast a glance over your shoulder. “But I need to get back to your sister.”

“Yeah. You will. And then you’ll come back to me. I really wanna test how good of a teacher you are. I already forgot all the shit you showed me. I think I need a reminder.”

As you walk away, you realize something. Your panties are gone and you half turn to see him pocketing them with a wicked grin.

@xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @emsgoodthinkin @take-everything-you-can @drudyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @valeskafics @rafescurtainbangz

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[lunaji]

I could get used to this.

Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader

Genre: Mature 18+ (MDNI)

Warnings: /below the cut/

Synopsis: The classic one bed trope. Unspoken feelings, which lead to a very steamy game of 'never have I ever.'

Word count: 4.9k

Authors note: My original plan was to have this be more heavy smut, but I fell in love with a softer side of Chan and the way he'd praise the reader, soooo... tadah.

Be added to the taglist here

If you like my work, please do let me know, it makes my day ♡

Lightly edited*

Please do not repost or reword any of my works onto any platform.

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Warnings: explicit smut, piv, mutual pining, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), swearing, praise kink, softdom!Chan, sub!Reader, oral (f receiving), finishing inside reader, hickeys, fingering (f receiving), eenie weenie breeding kink, fluffy sex :) , Chan is in awe of the reader, reader is kinda bratty (magnifying glass needed), names such as baby, baby girl are used so if you are uncomfortable with that be aware!

----

“I must’ve messed up the reservation.” You had your face in your hands as you looked to the very obvious one bed in the hotel room, as Chan pulled his phone out, “I swore to double check the booking before I made it, I promise you Y/N.” Chan muttered, scrolling through the email as his face paled slightly. “Oh. Wait here, I will see if they have another room.” He spoke with an embarrassed look on his face, the tip of his ears bright red as he turned to the door, opening it with haste as you sighed, moving your hands from your face to open the bathroom door, leaning against the sink.

Your own face was a scarlet red, as you ran the tap cold, using your palms to cup the water, splashing it on your face to cool yourself down, as you sighed heavily. You and Chan were currently on a trip around the world, after he had finished his comeback with the other members of Stray Kids, he’d asked you, his best friend, if you would like to travel. It had always been something you had wanted to do since you were young, and Chan knew this, and now that he had enough money to do so, he wanted to spoil you.

After all, you were childhood friends, and he had promised you if he had gotten famous enough to afford a holiday for you, he would. One thing you knew about Chan was he was a definite man of his word. He had a rare 3 weeks off, which was practically unheard of, especially with big companies such as JYP, so much so you had /begged/ Chan to leave his laptop in Korea, which was a hard fight which ended up with you in floods of hot tears and Chan finally agreeing after seeing your point of relaxing. What you hadn’t managed to keep away from him was his work phone, but he had insisted he would only use it if absolutely necessary.

You wandered out of the bathroom, as you wandered to the window, looking out and down at the people wandering past, wondering about each and everyone's backstory as you hummed to yourself, before you heard a sigh from behind you, one of defeat almost. You turned on your heel to see a despaired Chan, as he kicked the door with his foot shut behind him, smiling sheepishly to you. 

“Turns out I had indeed only booked one bed, and the lady on reception tried her hardest to find us a twin room, but they only had doubles left,” Chan sighed, as he looked to you apologetically. “I can set up a bed on the floor, I don't mind-” he was silenced by you shushing him as you pinched your hand together in a ‘be quiet’ motion, shaking your head as you laughed softly.

“We’re old enough now to share a bed, Chan. I’m okay with it really. What’s the worst that could happen, one of us kicking the other out in their sleep?” You offered a joke, sighing slightly in relief as Chan seemed to loosen up, his shoulders untensing from their harsh position by the sides of his head, his hands letting go of his shirt he had balled in his fists.

“Yeah, you’re right, we’ve slept on the couch together before, what is a bed for us?” He asked rhetorically, as he leant down to take his shoes off, as you lifted your hoodie up and off, slinging it on the back of the chair at the small desk that was positioned in the corner of the room. Chan had already begun to unpack the case you two had shared between yourselves, placing the clothes you had onto one shelf, and his own on the shelf below. What you hadn’t realised whilst you had your back turned, was the fond expression your best friend had given you throughout your conversation, as you now turned to face him, a cheshire grin on your face almost.

“The next step in our relationship. I don’t know if friends take it to second base. Bed sharing.” You stated sarcastically, pushing your trainers off your feet, and flopping onto the bed, “We’re only here for 4 days, we can even cuddle.” You taunted, as you patted the bed next to you expectantly, stretching your arms above your head, as Chan moved from his current activity of playing housewife with the clothes and sat on the bed next to you, his hands taking advantage of your exposed midriff, tickling it gently as you pulled you arms down quickly to try and defend yourself, a squeak leaving your lips as Chan laughed, unrelenting on his mission to make you laugh too as you squirmed under his attack, doubled over in a ball to hide from his hands. “Chan! I- stop!” You managed through breathy laughs, as he finally let go of you, lying back next to you as you hummed in defeat, feigning death as you stuck your tongue out dramatically.

“It wasn’t that bad Y/N, you’ve been around Hyunjin too much. So dramatic.” He mocked, as you looked over to him, a look of ‘first of all, ouch’, but he was right. But you were always like this together, so you knew he didn’t mean it really. You loved that about your friendship with Chan, everything you did together was always full of laughter and happiness, even when things were hard, like when Chan had left to train, you had still called when he could, making sure he checked up on you, always having time for you despite his ever growing and incredibly busy schedule. You admired him for it, and you couldn’t imagine anyone else being your best friend. 

Best friend. That’s all you had ever seen him as, well, as far as you knew anyway. Sure, he was absolutely beautiful and he knew that about himself, he was confident enough to know and show his body to fans, and you would be lying if you hadn’t swooned over his abs, they were the best thing you had seen since sliced bread. Yes, your best friend was fucking attractive and you loved it. Did you love him? Sure, as a friend. At least, you told yourself that, but a few drunk thoughts would tell you otherwise. Besides, Chan was way too busy to be a dating man, you knew that, you just knew how to admire goods. That was all.

—

“Okay right, my turn.” Chan hummed, as he thought of his move, “never have I ever thought about an idol in a pervy way.” He smirked as you rolled your eyes, putting a finger down.

“In my defence, have you SEEN Hongjoong? He’s incredible. And do not get me started on Changbin.” You giggled, taking a sip of your lemonade as you spoke, Chan making a ‘bleh’ face as you spoke about his friends, “Hey, you asked me. I am being honest.” You shrugged as you hummed, “okay, never have I ever thought about my friends naked.” You wiggled your eyebrows, as Chan sighed dramatically, putting a finger down as you raised a brow.

“Let’s not get it twisted,” he started, repositioning himself so he was propped up on one elbow as he faced you, a blush painting his cheeks a rosy colour as he contemplated his words, “I have one friend in particular who I wouldn’t mind seeing naked, that is for sure.” He coughed awkwardly, as you made a noise of amusement, “They are stunning. But, there’s no way they would ever say yes.” He laughed softly, as you shuffled to sit cross legged on the bed, pillows propped up behind you as you watched him.

“They are incredibly stupid then, imagine saying no to Bahng Christopher Chan.” You teased as you used his full name, which you both only used in unserious situations with each other, “hit me.” You hummed, as you fiddled with the can’s tab, waiting for his next ‘confession’. 

“Never have I ever touched myself to my best friend.” He said, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read as you furiously blushed, coughing as you looked away. “Well?” He murmured, as he leant up slightly, trying to see your face. 

You hesitantly put a finger down as you felt the atmosphere change, it felt thick with unspoken confessions suddenly, “T-this is a fun game!” You forced a laugh as you looked at him again, noticing he had also put a finger down. “You know the whole point of this game is to say things you haven’t done.” You breathed out, as Chan shrugged.

“Oh well, you know I like to be honest.” He clicked his tongue shifting so he was fully in front of you now, lying across the bed sideways as you put your can down, pulling your cushion from behind you into your lap as you looked away from him. “Would you rather I lie to you Y/N?” He questioned as you shook your head, looking at him again.

“It caught me off guard, that’s all Chan. You can’t just ask me that.” You choked out, hitting him softly with the pillow as you spoke, as you bit your lip in concentration at your next ‘question’. You could be very straight forward with it, or, you could play dumb. The second option seemed very appealing, so you smiled reassuringly at Chan who seemed to be concerned at your lack of response, “Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.”

Chan’s breathing hitched as it was his turn to look away, before he licked his lips in haste. “Yeah.” He answered simply, as he looked you dead in the eye. “I have, and I still am.” 

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, and as you gulped, Chan shifted so he was leant against the headboard, his hands nervously running through his hair as he watched you, similar to the way you were watching him. 

“Never have I ever wanted to kiss you.” There it was.

Time felt like it had stopped, neither of you said or did anything for a moment, but soon enough you found yourself crawling up the bed towards him, having only stopped prior to discarding the pillow you had placed on your lap. You tentatively sat on your knees in front of him.

“Never?”

Chan’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling at a fast pace, his hands reaching to pull you into his lap, your legs either side of his hips, as you both matched the same shade of crimson. You held your own hand up to his face, putting down a finger tentatively slow on purpose, as Chan’s breathing hitched in his throat, a hum leaving his lips as he moved to rest his hand on the small of your back, and pushed your body closer to his, where your chests touched, syncing in the rhythm of rising and falling. 

“All the time.” 

The shakiness of your breathing mixed with the sensation of his hand on your body made you feel dizzy with anticipation, as you rested your head on his shoulder, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, before you felt Chan’s hand moving to bring your chin up to face him. His finger moved to trail your jawline, before his palm cupped your cheek, a look of seeking approval written in his eyes as you hummed softly, your lips parted slightly as you tipped your head to the side slowly, your eyes never leaving his. 

Chan took a silent moment to work up an ounce of courage as he leant forward, the gap mere centimetres between your lips as you let out a tiny laugh, your nerves making your stomach twist as you felt his hot breath on your lips, the feeling intoxicating almost as you closed the distance. Your lips tingle at the sensation as he led the kiss between you, his hand on the small of your back now moving to gently hold your waist, keeping you close to him as you both shared at first, a sweet, simple kiss. The excitement of being able to finally feel what it was like to kiss him bubbling in your body whilst you let your arms drape loosely around his neck, Chan humming gently as he spoke against your lips, “you taste like lemonade.”

You chuckled softly as he spoke, his lips tickling yours almost in a ghost of a kiss, as you let your hands run up his neck to his hair, finding themselves lost in his brown locks. You felt his body shiver under yours. Chan’s tongue slid along the underneath of your bottom lip as you granted him access, letting your lips part slightly as his tongue trailed the outline of your own, feeling the warmth of his breath and sharing saliva felt so personal, making your head spin. Chan’s hands found its way onto your waist, his fingers drawing swirling patterns into your flesh as you hummed in delight at the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin. They slowly made their way to the hem of your shirt, as he broke the kiss only quickly to ask for permission, your head nodding slowly as he lifted it gently, making sure to take in every part of your top half as he did. 

When he had removed the garment to the floor, his breath hitched in his throat as he licked his lips slowly, “You are so gorgeous, my love.” He murmured, his fingers moving to trace hearts into your stomach as he spoke, moving carefully to make sure he got a touch of every inch of you, your eyes fluttering shut as you enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. The room was silent apart from the staggered breathing from both of you as you moved your hands to Chan’s chest, sliding them under the fabric of his top, feeling the hardened abs he sported, letting a small gasp of pleasant surprise out. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he had a fit body, but feeling it on your own accord made it all the better. He smiled at your curiosity, and lent back to pull his own top off, before he brought his hands back to caress the soft flesh of your back, pressing your chests together. 

“I want to take this slow, we have all evening. Maybe even multiple rounds.” He whispered, his lips pressing faintly on your neck, trailing soft kisses of adoration along your jaw and up to your ears, “You belong to me, and I belong to you.” His words shot straight between your legs and you whimpered quietly, before his lips engulfed yours in a hot, passionate kiss, his hands wandering to your bra clasp, un-clipping it with insane ease. Every time his fingers caught your skin, it felt like hot lava encasing your skin, the whines from your lips suggesting neediness as Chan chuckled softly against your shoulder, the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering against your bare skin as he did so. You didn’t need to see his face to know the expression he was wearing at that moment.

“Chris..” you hummed, feeling the straps of your bra slip from your shoulders, Chan’s hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs finding haven in rubbing small circles to each of your nipples as he let a small ‘hmm?’ out, a smirk of pure love on his face as you tipped your head back slowly, baring your chest to him, whilst Chan’s lips worked delicate, purple bruises into your skin, trailing from your neck, down to the cavern of your breasts, marking you as his own. His, and his only. “I- you..” 

Chan looked up to you, his breath hot on your skin as he let his tongue run along the top of your left breast, “words, baby.” His hand made light work on winding your nipple up to arousal, his mouth taking care of your other as his hand slipped down to your shorts, hesitating slightly as he ran it along the waistband. “Can we remove these, hmm?” He spoke against your nipple as you let a breathy giggle out, at his politeness, nodding as he shuffled to flip you both, resting you carefully against the bed as he let his mouth place sloppy, undirected kisses down your stomach, his hands working the buttons to your shorts, wriggling you out of them as you lifted your ass for him, making it easier for him to rid of the cloth covering you.

Chan’s lips pursed as he soaked in the view of how beautiful you were under him, his hand running to caress your inner thigh as his head lowered to press a deliberately drawn out kiss to your clothed pussy, before he raised his mouth a little to the pantie line of your underwear. He let the material rest between his teeth as he painfully slowly pulled them down, the butterflies in your stomach transferring to between your legs as his hands gripped onto your waist, supporting himself more than you as he maintained eye contact with you the entire time, the air thick with lust and emotions unspoken between you both as your own hands found haven in his hair once more, running them gently through it. The pure adoration you had for him had never changed, even so with him between your legs intimately, he was still the man you knew and had loved unconditionally.

You hadn’t even registered Chan’s current location until you felt the titillation of his hot breath against your thigh, a small mewl leaving your lips as your eyes followed his actions - one of which his lips trailed against your skin, daring closer to your pussy as he inhaled sharply, the way you were dripping for him and he hadn’t touched you yet drove him insane. His fingers ran up and down your other leg as he let his tongue kitten lick a stripe from your cunt to your clit, an obscene noise leaving your mouth as your back arched from the bed, hands gripping at the sheets below you as Chan took that as a compliment, now applying more pressure as he circled the tip of his tongue around your hole, before bringing his actions up to your clit, small but repetitive flicks on your bundle of nerves sending you to the stars without much effort already. 

Chan hummed against you as his fingers slid under his mouth, so he could work your tight pussy at the same speed as his tongue, inserting a finger into you as he pumped it into you, his mouth and finger in sync as you shook slightly at the stimulation, your legs squeezing around his head as you felt him huff against you, his free hand moving to separate your legs so he could have better access. The sounds filling the room were disgustingly pleasing, from the squelching of your wet cunt being fucked by his finger, to the slurping and sucking sounds from Chan’s mouth. You’d never received head quite like it. 

“Cum for me, then I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your own name.” Chan muttered against your clit as he introduced a second finger, pumping into you at a merciless pace as you could do no more than whimper incessantly at the feeling of your orgasm on the brink of tipping over the edge, your face contorted in pleasure as your eyes squeezed shut, mumbling incoherent words. And, when Chan’s fingers hit just that spot inside you, you let out the most intense scream of pleasure as your hands came up to clutch his hair, almost grinding your pussy against his face as he helped you through what would most likely be your first orgasm of many that evening. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt Chan massage his hand up your side to your face, his own now centimetres with yours as his lips glistened with your release, his hair messy from where you had gripped it insistantly as you had face fucked him, a rosy tint spreading your face as he smiled gently at your embarrassment. His hand cupped your cheek gently as he let his nose nuzzle your cheek as his breathing hitched - mainly because you had pressed a cautious but firm leg to his crotch, feeling his hard on bulge through his shorts. 

“Off, please.” You whined, as you made grabby hands to the top of his waistband, as Chan let out a chuckle, standing up slowly so he could remove his shorts and boxers, his erection springing free from its confined space as your eyes drew to his impressive length. His dick was the right amount to fill you up, you decided there and then as Chan kicked the shorts to the side, before he hooked his hands under the bends of your knees, pulling you down the bed to the edge, as he looked to you.

“Are you sure you want this?” 

“Chris, you just ate me out and you’re asking me if I want this?” You snorted, as you could feel the heat of his body against yours, his strong hands tucked perfectly under your knees as you looked up to the ethereal man above, the same dorky smile painted on his lips as he moved down to kiss your lips slowly, savouring every second.

“I’m just making sure. I don’t think we could go back to being friends after.” He chuckled, stroking your face with his thumb.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” You started, your hands moving to wrap around Chan’s body, earning a small grunt from the male, as he let his hand move to grip the base of his cock.

“Good, because I don’t plan on being nothing short of your boyfriend once I'm done with fucking you.” He hummed, as he ran the tip of his cock up and down your slit, collecting your slick on it as he let out a small groan of pleasure, as you faltered slightly at his words. Your boyfriend. That made you let out a small giggle of giddiness, before it was quickly replaced by a tiny whimper of pleasure as you felt Chan lean one of his knees on the bed to support himself, pushing the tip of his cock into your tight entrance, a plethora of curse words leaving his lips as he furrowed his brows at the feeling. “Fuck baby girl, this wet and tight for me?” His words sounded like pure honey to you as you managed a nod, your hands gently gripping the soft flesh of his back as he continued to stretch you until he was sitting snugly inside your walls, leaning to kiss each corner of your mouth as he let you adjust.

His cock fit so perfectly inside you, it had you wondering just why it had taken you this long to fuck, as Chan’s thumb rubbed circles into your calf that was placed over his shoulder now, which had you split almost in half for him. He hummed as he let his head rest against your leg, before he moved his hips slowly, testing the waters. The moan that spilled from your lips was more than enough indication to Chan that he had you right where you belonged. He let his thrusts start at a mediocre pace, enjoying the feel of you clenching around him, his head tipped to the side so he could kiss a trail of saliva filled kisses to your leg, whilst his other hand ran down your body to your clit, his finger massaging an almost perfect circle around it as you whined from the back of your throat, hands gripping onto his back, leaving small but noticeable marks that were a sure indicator of your rendezvous of the evening. 

The romantic atmosphere was nothing short of pure adoration from both sides, as Chan caught your eyes in a deep, meaningful gaze, his hips rolling into you with ease as he let grunts of pleasure leave his lips, all the while working you up to your second orgasm, his finger still on your bundle of nerves as he timed his thrusts into you with the same time he applied pressure in bursts, sending you up the wall almost at how well he was fucking you into the sheets.

“Chris- feels so good.” You babbled, hands desperately trying to ground you as you let them run down to his shoulders, earning a low moan from Chan, who had beads of sweat collecting at the centre of his forehead. He slowed his motions for a moment, before pulling out of you, earning a whimper of desperation from you, before he shook his head, sitting at the headboard, patting his lap to you, which you gladly complied, crawling up the bed to him, settling your thighs either side of him as he held his cock in place for you to slip back down onto him, filling the room with moans from both of you.

You placed both of your hands onto his chest, rolling your hips into Chan as his own gripped at your waist, supporting you as you began to ride him, leisurely at first, getting a feel of just how good he was inside you, before he let out a low growl, pulling you into him closer so he could attach his lips to your neck, decorating it with his own personal jewellery, a selection of varying shades of purple bruises. Marking you as his. Only his. That sounded so good.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” His words tickled your skin as you leant back to cup his face, your hips still rolling into him as your breathing slowly fell from its steady pace.

“Why didn’t you just say?”

“Work,” Chan huffed, as he pushed your hair from your face, “along with the fact I wanted to make sure you really loved me the way I love you.”

"Of course I love you, I always have." You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, the confession made your heart race. You finally could tell him how you felt.

The look on his face told you everything you needed to know, as you captured his lips in a deep kiss, feeling his hands cup your ass, lifting you up slightly so he could fuck into you from below. You tried to match his speed, bouncing down onto his dick as he fucked up, but the dizzy, intoxicating feeling of his words, along with how good he felt, made you falter. He really cared about you, and it showed. He fucked deep into you, pressing against your g-spot with the tip of his cock, his mouth moving down to wrap around your nipple, licking and grazing his teeth against it. Chan really understood the female anatomy, your anatomy.

“Easy baby, let me take care of you.” He whispered against your lips, before he rested his forehead against yours, your arms wrapping around his neck as your bodies fit as close as they could together, two pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned. The room was quiet, apart from the concentration of sloppy sounds from your wet pussy, Chan’s grunts and your own whimpers of ecstasy. “Look down.”

You complied, your mouth falling open in pure shock at the sight of Chan’s cock disappearing inside you, as you caught a glimpse of his face, concentrated on how well you were taking him, his lip bitten as you let your head roll back in pleasure, a string of words absolutely inaudible as you did, the familiar feeling of the knot of an orgasm in your stomach.

“Please, s’ close.” You hummed, licking your lips in haste as you chased your high, letting you pussy bounce down onto his cock, earning a throaty groan of enjoyment from Chan, who’s own hips seemed to snap up quicker into you now, both of you finding solace in each others bodies, your highs climbing quickly. 

“Cum around me, let your tight cunt squeeze my own cum from me.” His words were filthy, but it drove you insane as you came undone on your newfound lovers cock, his name spilling from your lips loudly, sweat dripping from your forehead, before you felt Chan twitch inside you, “fuck, (y/n), I need to pull-”

You shook your head, bringing your hands to clutch him tightly to you, your eyes wide as you begged, “no, inside. P-pill.” Your words sounded so desperate, so needy, that it awoke something inside Chan, his thrusts becoming ruthless into your cunt, which would surely leave bruises in the morning.

“Baby girl wants to be bred? Fill you up so well?”

“Mhm..p- please Channie, need it.” 

That was enough for him to spill inside you, your walls gripping his cock tightly as he moaned your name out, as you rocked back onto him, helping him through his own orgasm. Neither of you moved for a moment, the room filled with the heavy breathing from both of you, the smell of sex and the sure knowing of unspoken feelings finally laid out on the table. 

You let your head fall onto his shoulder as his hands ran up and down your back carefully, as you felt him soften inside you. His lips pressed dainty kisses onto your head, leading down to your ear where he spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Chris?”

“I don’t think one bed will be a problem anymore, do you?”

════════❀•°❀°•❀ ════════

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[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (one)

a/n: oh did you think this was gonna be a cute lil fluff fic? nahh it’s sad city down there!! be careful..

content warnings: ANGST panic attacks.. hurt (no comfort.) joel is dead. ellie’s a lil sad :/// ellie’s a lil anxious… ellie’s a projection of me.. ANYWAYS. reader and ellie are kinda the same but different ??? swearing ofc.. reader is very much okay with being a lesbian ! and she’s on good terms with the baby fawtha cause what! ellie is not fond of children apparently?? she also might be autistic.

wc: 2k.

taglist: @flowersforvi @diddiqueen @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen

ellie grew up around masculinity, thats why people assume she is the way she is. but ellie can assure that her brain would work the exact same way if she had a mother.

plus, she had joel. that was really all she needed. she still knew how to be a woman. it’s not like she grew up without a mother and didn’t know anything about herself.

2 WEEKS AND 4 DAYS AGO..

ellie sighed and threw the white stained towel over her shoulder. fuck she muttered under her breath as she read yet another email.

ATTENTION STUDENTS!

You will all be required to purchase the following textbooks in order to complete the course - They will help immensely in the upcoming exam. I recommend reading carefully and thoroughly.

Sincerely,

Prof Morgan.

all 5 of the books linked in the email were over $150.00 each. how the fuck was she supposed to work that out? all while paying her own tuition, rent and utilities.

“yo, williams!” her manager jesse yelled, interrupting her calculations.

“breaks over.” he snatches the towel from her shoulder and makes his way back into the kitchen with it in tow.

she scoffs and shoves her phone back into her polyester pocket. jesse’s head pops back into the room “oh and” he starts before turning to her. “you’re training today” she scoffs and lifts herself off the chair.

“is that even in my job description?” she follows him out of the kitchen once again.

“sure it is, i just described it to you.” he winks, ellie huffs.

the sky had dimmed by the time ellies shift was over. skating home was gonna be a bitch.

“you need a ride home?” dina places a hand atop her shoulder, a helpful smile on her face. ellie really wanted to say no. she’s been asking for help from others so much lately.

“no, uhh- i’ll get home t’night. thanks dee.” she nods as she grabs her skateboard from her locker. have the trucks always been this lose?

“no, i insist.” dina presses. she pulls out her keys and throws her bag over her shoulder.

“let’s go, my child.” she giggles at the nickname. ellies shoulders relax.

“thanks again, i really appreciate it.” ellie said, her tone laced with genuine gratitude. dina dismisses her with a hand flick. “don’t even sweat it.” she bragged. “now get goin, it’s late.”

ellie pushes the car door open with a steady grip on her skateboard. her smile falters as she waves dina off.

she unlocks her door with a trembling hand, she hated being alone.

the picture of her and joel neatly placed beside the coat rack mocked her as she placed her skateboard down in its dedicated spot. she stared into the picture until the colors morphed into one big glob.

the loss of not just a parent, but her only parent cut her deep. she could barely lift her head for the first while, nevermind go to work. she should be proud of herself! but she isn’t.

how could she be? she felt like everyone else in her life was doing so much with themselves. dina had a kid for fucks sake! dina had a whole kid and ellie couldn’t even get to class on time.

“fuck.” she muttered as she placed her keys down. bills upon bills were flooding the kitchen counter. tears burned at her eyes, blurring her eyesight.

i look so pathetic right now. she thought. a slight chuckle leaving her throat at that.

she tried to blink back the tears but she couldn’t, they just kept coming.

her silent whimpers quickly turned to snotty sobs as her chest heaved in and out involuntarily. she placed a heavy hand on her heart as she slid down the kitchen cabinet. soon enough she found herself completely breathless and wailing.

she eventually calmed herself through deep breaths and a cold glass of water. as she does through every panic attack, although the melancholic feeling always lingered.

after joels death ellie could never find herself truly happy. especially not in an environment where he was everything, everytime she turned around she was reminded of the man who wasn’t even her real father.

nothing was really hers.

she made her way down the dark, dusty hallway to her bedroom. desks adorned with pictures of her and joel. she ignored them this time.

she stripped of her uniform and took to the shower. the water burning her skin till it turned red. she scrubbed harshly at her scalp and body. she smelt like grease. gross.

the after shower feeling made her feel a bit better. she grabbed her toothbrush and rinsed it before wiping a glob of colgate toothpaste on the bristles and shoving it in her mouth.

ellie chased sleep for what felt like an eternity. her damp hair scratching at her neck was definitely a part of the problem.

thank god she didn’t work saturdays..

the first 30 seconds of ellie’s day were complete bliss, usually. but not today.

today ellie woke up to the obnoxious sound of a child crying. she decided right then and there that the universe hates her and wants her to die. (but she thinks that about everyone in her life..)

she scoffs and walks over to the curtains, her own padded feet already annoying her.

she peeks out the curtain only to be met with a u-haul and an suv parked in the driveway next door.

new neighbors, how wonderful. and they had a whiny kid! perfect.

she continues watching out the window until she sees you hand off the kid to its father. her eyes follow you until you step into the u-haul and start dragging boxes out. that’s when she sighs and decides to get ready for the day. even though she doesn’t want to.

your entire life you were desperate to be equal. to be taken seriously. you craved maturity.

you spent your entire childhood chasing adulthood. you were desperate to grow up. you didn’t know it then, but you would regret it.

the one thing you didn’t regret, was felix. the baby that you got out of your last relationship. that was before you realized you were very much a lesbian..

“cmon baby, just put your shoe on.” you struggled against the child in the backseat as he wailed. the sound was excruciating.

“please- can you just let mommy put your shoe on?” you gritted as you attempted to shove the shoe onto her other foot.

“no!” he screamed, almost directly into your face. that was it.

“you know what? fuck it.” you muttered the last words under your breath. truthfully you already weren’t setting a good example, but hey! let not say fuck infront of our kid!

you gave up on the shoes and shushed him gently as you undid his seatbelt from his car seat. you placed him in the arms of his father, tossing the shoe into his dinosaur covered backpack.

he slowly came down from his tantrum as he placed his head on his dads shoulder.

“you sure you don’t need me to help unpack?” your ex asks, unsure of leaving you behind with an entire house to furnish.

“yep! i’m good!” you smile. you gently kiss your baby’s forehead before shutting your car door.

the father nods in response. “just text if you need and we will be here. isn’t that right felix?” he asks the child who nods profusely.

“of course mama!” he shouts causing you and his dad to laugh. “well alright then!” you rush, it was still early but you were eager to get to your gardening before dark.

you watch as your ex buckles the kid in and situated himself in the car, before pulling out of the driveway he rolls down felixs window.

you blow kisses as the pull out of the driveway and take off to ‘the old house’ in your sons words.

as soon as the car is out of sight you make your way over to the U-Haul.

you’re so focused on getting this last box out of the truck that you don’t even feel the presence creep up behind you.

“hey did you need some hel-”

“what the fuck!”

you jump in fear before turning around. being faced with a red headed, green eyed girl.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” she apologizes calmly. an awkward look on her face as you stare at her wide eyed.

you chuckle lightly before putting your hands on your hips. “it’s alright, hon.” you reassure.

you two just awkwardly stare at eachother for a few seconds before ellie finally speaks up again.

“i saw you struggling. did you want some help?” she asks. her eyes drifting to the box filled with gardening tools.

“oh that would be amazing!” you said before wiping the sweat of your forehead.

ellies eyes follow a droplet of seat down your neckline all the way down your cleavage. she finds herself licking her lips

before you introduce yourself.

she darts her eyes back up to your own, praying that you didn’t see her blatantly check you out. “i’m- i’m ellie.” she jumps over her words.

since when did you not know how to speak, idiot? she internally face palms before walking over to pick up the box.

“where do you want this?” she asks with a grunt as she steadys the box in her arms.

“just over here” you direct, letting her follow you as you walked over to the side of the house. she follows you and sets the box down with ease. she jokingly wipes the dirt off of her hands before nodding and starting to walk off.

“oh sweetie! i don’t wanna be a bother but would you mind helping me with one more thing?”

you must’ve been magic because somehow you swindled ellie into helping you with almost everything, and she was totally fine with it.

currently you were both at your kitchen island, laughing over a bottle of wine.

ellie had confided in you about school and you had rambled to her about what it’s like to be a mother.

“yeah, i mean- besides pregnancy it’s not all that bad.” you admit. ellie’s face shifts at the mention of pregnancy.

“i don’t know if i could ever have a baby inside me. i think i’d like- die.?” she questions. “not that i would of course” she giggles. your face becomes a look of confusion.

“no boyfriend? or just not one for kids?” you ask. you totally forgot that it’s very possible for her to be-

“i’m a lesbian” she answers and takes another sip of wine. her eyes watching your face for any negative reaction.

you clap your hands over your mouth quickly. now it seems obvious.

“i am so sorry, that totally slipped my mind.” she laughs at your attempts to redeem yourself.

“it’s totally chill, don’t worry.” she reassures, a smile on her face.

“i am too, actually.” you admit, it was your first time admitting it to someone other than yourself of your now ex husband.

“oh i was just gonna ask if that was your husband out there earlier.” she fidgets with the rings on her fingers as she asks.

“well, ex. it’s not easy to find a baby sitter that actually takes care of my kid these days.” you admit to her. she ponders for a slight moment before speaking up again.

“well, if you’re looking. i’m usually free during the day, i work nights most of the time.” she offers up. she wasn’t really sure why. she wasn’t even a fan of kids.

“really?!” it looks like your eyes had bulged out of your head. “god that would be amazing! i’ll pay you!”

ellie didn’t hear anything besides ‘i’ll pay you’ that’s all she needed to know.

“yeah of course. i’ll take him.” she confirmed.

that night ellie left with your phone number and a smidge of hope in her heart.

[folkloresthings]

back hugging and the one in front just turns around to press their lips against the other's THIS IS SO SEBASTIAN PLEAES

[ kiss prompts ] back hugging and the one in front just turns around to press their lips against the others with sebastian vettel.

at the peak of his career, just off of his second world championship win, sebastian’s days were busy. between meetings with red bull about the car for next season and media commitments, it was rare that you got a moment alone with your boyfriend.

luckily for you, he was set to spend all of today at home. but despite waking up next to him and being in such close proximity, sebastian was still working. you did all you could to spend time with him, bringing him coffee when he was on a call or lounging nearby with your book while he answered emails.

just before dinner, you quickly hopped into the shower to give sebastian some peace for a phone call, taking your time to lather yourself in the vanilla body wash your boyfriend always complimented, slipping into one of his shirts when you dried off. padding into the living room, sebastian isn’t where you left him at your desk — instead, pottering around the kitchen with what you had left out for dinner.

“hey, whatcha doing?” you ask, hovering in the doorway.

“making you dinner,” sebastian replied, glancing back over his shoulder to smile at you. “nice shirt.”

chuckling, you feel your cheeks go warm. “i can make dinner. you should be resting, it’s your day off.”

with a sigh, his shoulders visibly fall. instantly the guilt rises in you; sebastian always felt terrible when he didn’t give you his full attention, when you were his second priority, despite the many times you reassured him that it was was fine. and now, on his day off, he had spent all of his time on his laptop.

“right, sorry.” his voice is quiet, hands busying themselves with cutting up some vegetables.

you frown, setting down your phone on the table and wandering over to where sebastian stands over the countertop. careful not to startle him, your hands wind themselves around his waist from behind, clasping at his stomach. resting your head between strong back muscles, squeezing all your comfort into him.

“i miss you,” you tell him, muffled into his soft shirt. sebastian’s hands instantly set the food preparation down, melting into your touch. without a second thought he turns in his place, your arms still wrapped around his waist, looking down at you now.

before he can get too lost in your sad eyes, he captures your lips in his. soft, slow, nothing but sweetness in his kiss. hands that cup your cheeks hold you like a precious stone, careful not to let you slip away. even when you part, he never gives up on making sure you feel every ounce of love he held for you.

“i’m sorry,” sebastian mutters, tickling your forehead with his curls. “i’m going to be around more, i promise. you are what matters to me, more than anything.”

nodding, you stretch up to kiss him quickly again. “i know.”

sebastian smirks, that cheeky look sneaking back into his eyes. “i could start now, if you want…”

“oh, yeah?” you giggle, hands sneaking under the hem of his shirt, brows raised. “can you still make us dinner first, though?”

“only if you’re my dessert, baby.”

[kiwiana-writes]

hi MJ!! for the sleepover weekend asks, i'd love some fluffy and a few hurt/comfort firstprince fic recs! and and for fmk: bea, june and nora from rwrb! okay thats it byebye ~saturday xoxo

Forgive me: I sat on this one for so long it's now officially NEXT weekend, at least in my part of the planet, so I guess answering this is also me kicking off this weekend's slumber party 😅

I'm doing FMK first, even though I need you to know this is CRUEL. Fuck Nora, marry Bea, kill June, but I am absolutely relying on Nora's smarts/Pez's cash to get her out of this situation.

Anyway:

FLUFFY FIRSTPRINCE FIC RECS

take me back to San Francisco by @getmehighonmagic: this has a sequel languishing in my emails for that magical future day when I'm capable of reading again but I have no doubt it'll be just as incredible as part one, which is FUCKING DIVINE. Also I just... really wanna go to San Francisco.

You love me! You love me? by anarchyat4am: How often I shoehorn a rec for this fic wherever it might be even remotely applicable is sort of a running joke by this point but I stand by it actually. This is a massive comfort fic for my trans ass.

Confidential Memorandum by @sherryvalli: this fic is so stinkin' cute I feel like I need to book a dental appointment every time I read it.

Dick, Dick, Dick (You Down) by @everwitch-magiks: do I feel a deep abiding kinship with Henry's anxiety being read as rudeness in this fic? Maybe, shut up.

Getting Clinical by @cha-melodius: Yes I'm biased because this was a gift for me, no I don't care, IT'S A FUCKING DELIGHT.

In His Wildest Dreams by @myheartalivewrites: This fic is a fucking fluffy blanket of joy.

If at first you don't succeed by @clottedcreamfudge: I am lowkey obsessed with CCF second first impressions and Alex being blissfully unaware until he's not.

HURT/COMFORT FIRSTPRINCE FIC RECS

a shard or two by @aeithalian: you don't read WIPs? I don't care. Read this one. I beg of you. Hands down the most criminally underrated fic in this entire fandom in my opinion. It is so, SO good. I reread it all the time in between chapters, I am hoping DESPERATELY the author will let me ficbind it when it's done, and I will scream about it from the fucking ROOFTOPS to convince y'all to read it. No cliffhangers, no relationship drama, just the meatiest post-canon deliciousness.

(but i knew you) baby, kiss it better by saintsnames: age gap my beloved, sex bloopers my beloved, two idiots in love MY BELOVED.

i ask you how you’re doing (and i let you lie) and even though we know it isn't true by @matherines: double-reccing even though these can be read separately because HAHA OUCH MY HEART. Both of these fics just fucking flayed me alive????

you were more than just a short time by @hypnostheory: DAVID 😭😭😭😭😭😭 mind the living fuck out of the tags but FUCK this is good. Heartbreaking, but good.

Downburst by @cricketnationrise had me clutching my face from start to finish I swear to god.

So I Will Weather the Storm by @sparklepocalypse: while reading this, picture me just screaming ALEX YOU FUCKING DUMBASS at my computer the entire time and it'll be like you were right here with me the first time I read it!

The Domestication of Household Spiders by @cultofsappho: if Spider-Man Alex has no fans I am dead etc etc. This is so fucking SOFT from start to finish.

[Sleepover weekend!]

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary: Larissa's unable to sleep and it's up to you find a solution

a/n: wrote this one because my heart craves for something soft and smutty :'))

warning/s: NSFW. soft smut.

Most often than not, Larissa stirs awake in the middle of the night, she slowly unravels your arm around her middle and softly, ever so gently, moves to pry herself off from your embrace and off the bed. Quickly, she would tuck her pillow under your arm to give you something to cuddle with. And a kiss on your cheek before she leaves.

Tonight was no different, she gets up, tucks a pillow next to you, kisses your forehead and puts her robe on before she leaves the bedroom, tiptoeing all the way to her private study. It has always been like this since she can remember, she wakes up and never goes back to sleep no matter how exhausted her body feels. She considers booking an appointment with the new therapist in Jericho but never does.

Larissa sighs and opens her laptop. She does nothing but stare at the angry red notification of her unread emails. 

The door creaks as it is being pushed open, her gaze shifting and that’s when she finds you, standing there with a sleepy look on your face, your hair untamed, the strap of your tank top fell from your left shoulder. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” The yawn that follows makes Larissa’s lips curl, and while she feels guilty to not have been by your side, she feels incredibly warm seeing this sight in front of her. 

You walk in, shutting the door behind you, “Can’t sleep again?” you ask while settling yourself on the couch. You heard her mumble confirming that she, in fact, can’t sleep again. “Come here, love.” you told her, opening your arms and prompting her to come. 

Larissa looks vulnerable and tired, she sits down next to you but you tug her arm and motion for her to lay on top of you with her head on your chest, she refuses and grumbles about being “too big” and “too heavy” which you dismiss with a glare. Defeated, she settles on the position you told her to.

She’s tensed, from her muscles to her breathing, you know she’s holding herself back, “Let go, baby. It’s okay. You’ve been on top of me for more than one occasion and I’ve been fine. You’re not going to break me. Just let go.” 

Eventually you feel her knots loosen after a while of whispering sweet nothings as you hold her closer, your lips leaving tender kisses on top of her head. You feel her letting go. “That’s it, my love. Good job.” you place another reward on her forehead making her blush.

“I love you.” she mumbles, nestling her face to the crook of your neck and her warm, steady breathing brushes against your skin rendering your breath to halt for a second, your mind rebooting itself. “I–I love you, too.” and you feel her smirk against you.

You continue the idle work of your fingers as they run through her silken silver locks, “What’s keeping you up, sweetheart?” silence. No answer. You thought she’s gone to sleep but she shifts, pulling away from your neck. It’s my dreams… she wanted to say, but it feels foolish so she doesn’t.

She feels your thumb gliding across her cheekbone, your eyes searching her own for an answer she denied herself to say and she’s thankful that you didn’t feel the need to push and just let it be knowing that eventually she will open up to you. 

So she leans closer, brushing her lips on your lips, silently thanking you. You knew what it meant based on the smile you have once she pulls from you. “Okay.” 

“You should go and sleep.” she says, her gaze never leaving yours.

You raised a brow, “And leave you here? No. I’m not going back without you.” Larissa rolls her eyes and buries her face on your chest, grinning towards your attitude. “Fine, let’s go.” she gives up.

The bed dips with her weight, and you watch her lay on her back on her side of the bed, “I know you’re the biggest cuddler so you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want to sleep on top of me.” that made her pause, “Come here, love. I want to hold you.” hoping it can ease her to fall asleep quickly.

She can feel her heart expand from the way affection fills your voice to the fond way you look at her. There’s nothing but warmth in her chest right now as the butterflies go wild in her tummy, her head empty of her previous thoughts. Even after all these years you still have the same effect on her.

Half an hour later, Larissa’s still unable to fall asleep, shifting frequently and grunting. You can feel her growing exhausted. It’s rendering you both exhausted. “I’m sorry.” she mumbles in the dark, her breath caressing your neck, “It’s okay.” you assured her.

“Maybe there’s something else that I can do…a solution”

Larissa quirks a brow though you can’t see her, “What is it?”

“Do you trust me?” Larissa nods, “Lay on your back please.” 

Now on her back, you switched your positions. You climb on top of her, straddling her, a smile swiftly curling on her lips. She knows. 

She instinctively bit her lower lip, hand caressing your bare thigh and confidently caressing higher until they’re right under your top. “So this is your solution?” she teased, pinching your nipples.

“Yes. Now, I want you to relax, okay? This is about you.” the shapeshifter finds her arms pinned above her head, as your breath tickles her neck. “Relax, baby.” you grin to yourself noticing her nipples are hard underneath her shirt but you decide that they can wait just a little bit longer.

Your mouth crashes against her and she welcomes you with an intensity that makes you shiver, her tongue darting out to play with yours, and even that remains soft, “I love you” she breathes against you. You abandon her lips to trail kisses down her jawline, she throws her head backward, exposing her neck. You know what she’s asking for. You smile while you place one final kiss on her jaw and repeat the process down her neck, sucking a bright bruise on her pulse point before soothing it down with your tongue. “Fuck me.” she whined, her voice faltering as she spread her legs even wider, “Feel me.” she begs. 

You know it never fails to make her cunt sopping wet, her juices leaking. She feels you underneath her shorts, a smirk appearing when you realize she lacks a certain piece of fabric. She blushes hard. You tauntingly gather her wetness with your finger, spreading what’s collected around her clit. Her arousal grows thicker. “Please.” she whines, her brows furrowing and she’s staring at you with those big, beautiful eyes, asking you to plunge your fingers in her sex and just fuck her.

“No need to beg, my love.” you husked, leaving a soft kiss on her navel as you slowly crawl down her body, situating yourself in between her legs. You won’t lie that hearing her beg you makes you even wetter, there’s just something about her desperate pleas that makes your mouth go dry and your whole body burns.

“Is this okay? You good up there?” Larissa melts once more, never getting used to every time you take a moment to check up on her, “I’m fine.” 

The sweet adoring look in her eyes switched to something dark once you run the tip of your tongue from her inner thigh to her dripping cunt, spreading the pink lips apart with your thumbs to reveal more wet area and plunging in your tongue. Her moans are fueling you, challenging you to go deeper and fuck her until she’s shaking, her cum trickling down.

As you alternate between licking her hole and flicking with her clit, your hands start to wander above her hips, to her waist until you’re cupping her perfectly shaped breasts. She moans even louder, filthier, more of her juice coats your tongue. She tastes divine.

The first thrust of your fingers into her, Larissa growls at the satisfaction of being filled, of feeling you curling inside her pussy. “God, you’re so tight, baby.” and she mewls, shutting her eyes and bucking her hips to feel more. 

As you begin to fuck her, your freehand released its hold from her breast and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers together, your tongue wantonly licking her clit drawing more sounds from your dear girlfriend. “Ugh–yes, yes, yes–fuck, fuck me!” something about her being so vocal while getting fingered so dirty will never cease to make you smile. “I’m close, hun. Fuck me.”

You fuck her through and after her orgasm hit and her legs shake, fucks her some more with a strap, your mouth latched around one nipple while your freehand never left the other holding it for support. Larissa keeps taking it all until she’s very much spent and pushing you off. The pace falters, you stop and pull the toy from her sore cunt. She’s breathing heavily.

“Are you okay, mi amore?” Even after all the filthy things you told her while you fuck her like a whore, Larissa finds how your tone quickly shifts to being concerned and soft in no time to be fascinating. “I’m okay, just sore and tired. I think…I think I’m–”

“Shhh, know, I understand. I’ll go get cleaned up and I’ll bring you some towels to clean you. I will be back, don't move.” she sleepily hums indicating it was a job well done. You kissed her cheek before you left. 

After less than ten minutes you’re back by her side with a damp towel to clean the sticky cum and a dry one to wipe away the sweat. She mumbles something incoherent while you try to push her short up her legs, “Go to sleep, my love.” 

Once done, you laid yourself in bed and scooted closer to her, draping one arm across her waist to pull her. “Good night.” you whisper, dropping one soft kiss on her shoulder. She’s already knocked down but you feel her turn until she’s facing you, her head nestled on your shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

The next day, Larissa curses herself, her eyes widening as the clock on her side reads 12:15 pm. It’s the first time she’s slept through her 5:45 am, 6:00 am and 6:15 am alarm…

She turns to you, “This is your fault” she says, throwing a pillow on your face hoping to wipe away your grin and you only shrug, unable to mask the smile on your lips seeing the headmistress in distress as she moves around the bedroom.