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chelseeebe · 5 months

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gimme a hand

okay so i saw a silly tiktok abt how guys take nudes wrong and thought our lovely best friend reader could help eddie take some !! i am a little tipsy so pls excuse any mistakes

mdni. 18+. smut. like, literally just smut. fem!reader x eddie. modern au

“so.. how are things with you and.. whatshername?” clicking your fingers in his face.

eddie scoffs, batting your hand away, “chrissy is her name,” correcting your childish behaviour, “and it’s good, we’ve been.. texting a little,” shrugging nonchalantly.

you and eddie had been best friends for years, though these hang outs were few and far between now. both too busy with the perils of adult life to sit around and smoke weed all day, like you used to.

that meant that your relationship had skewed a bit, no longer as close as you once were. though you still tried to feign an interest in his, mostly nonexistent, love life.

he understood though, your life was far too interesting to care about the very small roster of girls he was seeing.

“texting?” you exclaim, stubbing the embers of the joint out into the ashtray, “so you haven’t seen her since?”

eddie shakes his head, realising that what he had thought was an exciting update, was actually just a pathetic retelling of a long text thread.

“i think we’re just.. testing the waters,” brushing off your disappointment. he contemplates even telling you anymore but what kind of a best friend would he be if he didn’t at least tell you all the details. “she sent me pictures the other day,” wriggling his eyebrows.

“pictures?” a slight mocking tone to your voice that he doesn’t like, “what kinda pictures?”

his face scrunches up, cheeks flaming red, as if it wasn’t obvious. “you know.. naughty ones.”

you whistle, blowing the air from your cheeks in the most sarcastic manner, “naughty pictures.. wow eddie, you’re really moving up in the world. did you send any back?”

his head dips, regretful of ever sharing this with you. you had never had a lack of choice for guys lining up for you. even back in high school. of course you wouldn’t understand.

“no..” shrugging again, “i don’t.. don’t know how.”

“you don’t know how to send nudes?” utter shock rippling through your voice, “didn’t i teach you anything?”

“not how to send nudes!” he hits back, getting increasingly frustrated that you’d rather mock him than help him get laid for once.

“i can help you if you want,” you offer, “i don’t have to watch.. i can just.. guide you?” proposing the question as if it were a completely standard conversation for you two to be having.

“really?” his eyes bright and full of hope.

eddie really liked chrissy, she was sweet and the times they had hung out, they got on well. he just wasn’t equipped to match her flirting, afraid he’d overthink himself into losing her.

“sure,” you smile, grabbing his phone as you stand from the couch, “come on,” beckoning for him to follow you down the corridor to the bathroom.

you bundle into the trailers tiny bathroom, poised in front of the mirror with his phone in hand.

“you stand here..” you instruct, guiding him by the shoulders, “you need to get hard,” grinning as you look at him through the mirror, “i’ll stand outside and just.. tell you what to do, okay?”

eddie’s too high for this, wondering how you’d gone from a joint and a couple of beers to now helping him sext the girl he liked.

you disappear outside, shoving his phone into his chest, the knob clicking quietly as the realisation of what the hell he was doing sets in.

“so..” he poises, swiping onto the camera, posing himself in the dirty mirror, “pull my pants down, right?” wanting to make sure that he got nothing wrong.

“yeah, but not all the way, just like.. a little bit.”

okay, he thinks. tugging his sweatpants down just beneath his balls, his boxers following suit. he was getting hard just thinking about it, the fact that you were instructing him what to do wasn’t helping.

his fingers wraps around the base of his cock, pumping his fist a few times, stifling the groan that had settled in his throat.

this was already weird enough, he didn’t need to make it weirder.

“okay..” his voice quivering, “what now?”

you tut, “pull your shirt up.. or off, it looks bad otherwise.”

eddie does as you ask, taking his shirt off and tossing it into the floor with the rest of his dirty clothes. he peers at the image through the screen, inwardly cringing at how stupid he looked.

“i don’t know,” though his dick was already stiff, aching for him to continue. “i look stupid,” he frowns, attempting to position the phone differently, although nothing seemed to help his pathetic stature.

“no you don’t,” your voice rings through the door, “now you gotta pose it.. make it look good, sexy.”

his eyes squeeze shut, wishing you’d stop talking with that low growl in your voice. this was for chrissy’s benefit, not his. getting off to the sound of your voice while trying to arouse another girl was not the plan.

eddie exhales, opening his eyes to reposition the phone, closer to the mirror. his fist begging to move and finish the job.

nothing helped, in fact, it looked worse than before. chrissy’d block him if he dared sent anything like this.

fuck, he felt like a pervert. this was wrong. twisted.

“have you done it?” you call.

“no,” he gulps, frowning at the image of himself in the mirror.

you huff, knuckles wrapping against the door, “i’m gonna come in, okay?” giving him no time to think before you appear next to him in the mirror.

your eyes fall straight to his cock, widening every so slightly, “wow.. okay,” chuckling awkwardly as you snap back into it. “you have to..” your hand lowers his phone, straightening the camera position for him.

his breath is jagged, on the edge of exploding and splattering all over his bathroom. whatever buzz he had had from the weed had dissipated, replaced by the hazy tingly sensation of your hand near his cock.

“and then..” you look to him, in person this time, not through the safety of the mirror, before wrapping your fingers around the ones that were still lingering around his cock. “do this..” voice trailing off into a low whisper, using his fist to pump his already leaking cock.

a strangled gasp leaves his mouth, heat searing through his body. mind too fuzzy to truly comprehend the shit he was seeing and feeling.

the heat of your body presses against his back, delicate fingers still travelling the length of his cock, “film it,” not once letting your eyes fall from the side of his face while his stay firmly on the mirror in front.

maybe this way he could pretend it wasn’t real, that he was just watching some video and you weren’t actually jerking him off by-proxy.

eddie, ever obedient, presses the record button, sighing into his phone as your his hand continues to move.

his knees almost buckle, kept afloat by the sound of you panting into his ear. it was almost too much, his brain collapsing into itself as your hand takes over, ignoring the phone in his hand to continue making him whine and quiver like that.

the weight of your body presses him into the cold china basin, eyes travelling from his face to his dick and right back up again.

you could’ve told him to jump right now and he would’ve. other hand reaching around to grab onto whatever part of you he could get a grip on.

your lips trace against his neck, lingering against the skin. he couldn’t keep the phone straight, the video would just be some big blur of him groaning and the sink. not that it matters. not while you’re touching him.

“is this good?” you ask, breath tickling against his ear.

eddie nods rapidly, “good.. so good,” fingers twisting around your shirt as his eyes flutter closed. “fuck,” he gasps, the phone slipping from his hand onto the counter when your thumb circles the tip of his dick. an otherworldly feeling he had never been able to feel before.

“yeah?” you grit, pulling his hand, signalling for him to turn. his bones were jelly, body mailable and under your control. his back now pressed against the sink, foreheads pressed together.

one hand holds onto your hip while the other finds your cheek, lazily trying to connect your lips. your knee slides between his legs, spreading them just enough for your other hand to creep between and grab his balls.

“ohh shit,” eddie wails, kissing at your bottom lip, sucking at the skin.

nothing felt real, waiting for his alarm to pull him out of this fucked dream to a sticky puddle and a new perspective on your friendship.

your expert fingers fondle his balls while the other fists his dick, pre-cum making your fingers glisten and move with ease.

his throat squeaks, the most pitiful noise a grown man could’ve made, his bottom lip still latched onto yours.

ten years of friendship and yet the two of you had never even kissed before. wishing you wouldn’t have wasted so much time on actually doing it. a newfound adoration for the sweet taste of your lips and the friction of your palm rubbing against his cock.

“i’m gonna cum,” he babbles, stomach flipping, waves of pleasure crashing through his tingling limbs.

you don’t respond to his whining, your nose brushes over his as his breaths become shallow and staggered. a iron clad grip on your shirt as he teeters over the edge, hips stuttering into your palm.

“ohh fuck,” eddie mewls, bursting all over your hand, “shit.. fuck, oh god,” your eyes dark, gazing down at your hand still wrapped around him, somewhat proud of what you’ve achieved.

he lets go of his hold on your body, hurriedly trying to find the counter to ground himself. his head a million miles away on mars, his lack of thoughts disrupted by the sound of the water running.

chest still heaving as he braves a look at you, watching his release swirl down the drain. you’re chewing on your bottom lip, a sudden realisation that you had just made your best friend cum maybe. he doesn’t really want to ask. hoping you won’t regret it.

eddie picks up his phone, stopping the recording, his thumb shooting straight to the tiny trash can until you grab his wrist.

“don’t delete it,” a fire within your eyes, twisting the screen in your direction, “i wanna watch.”’

his finger hovers over the play button, looking to you though your eyes are trained on the screen, waiting for him to press play.

the video starts, shaky footage as the audio of his pathetic grunts and gasps fill the tiny bathroom. eddie can’t bring himself to watch, forcing himself to watch you rather than the video.

you’re smiling to yourself, smug at the sight of you making him crumble. he wants to be embarrassed, can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and yet, he doesn’t turn it off.

“maybe don’t send that..” you remark, finding his eye, that mischievous sparkle that eddie hadn’t seen in years, reappearing.

he needed to feel you, in the way that you had felt him. cock already reawakening when your lips twitch into a smirk.

shit.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things

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danishbuildingsupplies · 1 year

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Bathroom Transformations: Exploring Toilet Suites, Shower Sets, and Freestanding Bathroom Vanity Options

Your bathroom is more than just a functional space; it's a sanctuary where you begin and end your day. When it comes to bathroom design, the right fixtures and features can transform an ordinary space into an oasis of relaxation and luxury. In this blog, we'll delve into the world of bathroom transformations by exploring the options available for toilet suites, shower sets, and freestanding bathroom vanities.

Toilet Suites: Comfort Meets Efficiency

Let's start with one of the most essential fixtures in any bathroom – the toilet suite. Modern toilet suites offer a blend of comfort, style, and water-saving efficiency. Here are some aspects to consider:

Design Variety: Toilet suites come in a wide range of designs, from sleek and contemporary to classic and traditional. You can choose a style that complements your overall bathroom aesthetic.

Water Efficiency: Many modern toilet suites feature dual-flush mechanisms, allowing you to choose between a full flush and a partial flush. This water-saving feature not only benefits the environment but also reduces your water bills.

Comfort Height: Consider opting for a comfort-height toilet, which is slightly taller than standard toilets. It's designed to be more ergonomic and comfortable, especially for taller individuals or those with mobility challenges.

Easy-Clean Features: Look for toilet suites with design elements that make cleaning a breeze, such as concealed traps and rimless bowls.

Shower Sets: Luxury in Every Drop

Your daily shower can be a rejuvenating experience with the right shower set. Whether you prefer a soothing rainfall shower or a powerful jet spray, modern shower sets offer a world of options:

Showerhead Variety: Explore various showerhead styles, including rain showerheads, handheld showerheads, and multifunctional options. Each offers a unique shower experience.

Thermostatic Valves: Consider installing thermostatic valves that maintain a constant water temperature, eliminating the risk of sudden temperature fluctuations while you shower.

Shower Panel Systems: For the ultimate luxury, shower panel systems provide a spa-like experience with features like body jets, waterfall showers, and LED lighting.

Water-saving Features: Many Shower sets incorporate water-saving technology, such as aerators, to reduce water consumption without compromising on water pressure.

Freestanding Bathroom Vanities: Elegance and Functionality

Freestanding bathroom vanities are a popular choice for those seeking elegance and functionality in their bathroom design:

Style Variety: Freestanding vanities come in an array of styles, from classic to modern, and are available in various materials, including wood, marble, and glass.

Storage Solutions: Look for vanities that offer ample storage space with drawers, shelves, or cabinets to keep your bathroom organized and clutter-free.

Vessel Sinks: Consider pairing your freestanding vanity with a stylish vessel sink for a contemporary and eye-catching look.

Customization: Many Freestanding bathroom vanity can be customized in terms of size, finish, and countertop material, allowing you to create a vanity that perfectly fits your bathroom space.

Conclusion

Bathroom transformations are all about selecting the right fixtures and features to create a space that reflects your personal style while meeting your functional needs. Toilet suites, shower sets, and freestanding bathroom vanities offer a world of possibilities, allowing you to design a bathroom that is both aesthetically pleasing and highly functional. When planning your bathroom makeover, take the time to explore the diverse options available and consider how each choice can contribute to the ultimate transformation of your space into a luxurious oasis.

For more information.....

#toilet suites #shower sets #freestanding bathroom vanity

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nachojaehyun · 5 months

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like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen #wonwoo asks #seventeen smut drabbles #svt x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen thoughts #svt hard thoughts #svt x you #seventeen smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #kpop smut

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mickandmusings · 2 months

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you’re losing me

pairing: tyler owens x f! reader

word count: 5.2k

summary:

when tyler, yet again, forgets an important date while he's caught up in chasing, y/n is at her wits end. their relationship feels like it's dying, and he just might have dealt the final blow. after a series of rather unfortunate happenings, it's up to the rest of the wranglers to set them free from the disaster they created.

warnings: ANGST with a capital a; tyler is kind of an ass; halfway edited (sorry); forced proximity; not my most favorite thing i've ever written; sort of suggestive but not explicit

The ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall taunts her, reminding her that time was continuing to pass by. She taps her fingers against the table, her patience fleeting.

Y/N picks up her phone to check it for nearly the twentieth time in the past half hour. She had hoped to look down and see a missed call or an apologetic message from her boyfriend, who, at present, is an hour and a half late for their anniversary dinner. She had the table set for two some time ago: a home cooked meal in the oven, a bottle of white wine to split, and a candle lit in the center of the table. She sported a flowy sundress that tapered off mid-calf-Tyler's favorite dress on her-one that she just knew was going to end up on the floor of their bedroom by now.

Clearly, she'd been mistaken.

She presses the button on the side and the screen illuminates the dimly-lit room. The only thing that greets her is an empty lockscreen- a picture of Tyler smiling down at her as she looks up at him, taken over a year ago. She sighs in annoyance, putting the phone back down as the tear in her heart only grows bigger and bigger. She'd known this would happen, and despite all her efforts to avoid it, he had still forgotten.

She'd started two weeks beforehand, by telling him that she wanted to spend the night of their anniversary with him, alone. He'd agreed, claiming it was a great idea. That night, she put the reminder in his phone calendar and wrote it into the paper one that lived on his fridge. A week before, she'd mentioned it a thousand times: over dinner, during grocery shopping, and even during post-bliss pillow talk. He'd pull her into his arms and kiss her head, assuring her every time that he'd be there with bells on. Naively, she had believed him. Now, she was sitting alone at his dinner table in her prettiest sundress, feeling like a complete fool.

Her phone dings, and she feels the rip in her heart stitch itself back together for a slight moment. When she notices it's not Tyler, her shoulders slump.

The Tornado Wranglers are LIVE! Click here to watch now!

She's quick to click it, watching as it loads before she sees Boone's face in the frame, the top of Tyler's hat visible. Her heart shatters, watching as her boyfriend smiles and hollers for the camera, chasing a storm. She'd known there was a big storm forming for the past few days: when Tyler went out on a chase, she watched the weather as if it were a nail-biting thriller. Hearing him on the livestream had been the first time she'd seen or heard from him all day, despite his promises to be next to her this very moment.

She exits the live and stands from the dinner table, already knowing her boyfriend wouldn't be home any time soon. She blows out the candle and puts the unopened wine back in the kitchen, wrapping the dinner she'd made in tin foil and tossing it into the fridge. Despite her simmering anger, she knew Tyler would come home drenched, so she set out a dry change of clothes and a towel on the washing machine for him to see. Shaking her head, she bit her lip and swallowed thickly as she moved to the en suite bathroom and changed out of the dress, her perfectly curled hair wasted. She throws on her pajamas and her (intentionally not Tyler's) hoodie, climbing into her side of their shared bed. She plugs her phone into the charger and switches on the silent function, not wanting to be bothered as she wallows. Finally, she plops down onto her pillow and curls under the blankets, her annoyance slowly fading into disappointment. She tries to push the tears back, feeling stupid for crying over something so trivial, but it had hurt that he'd forgotten something that was supposed to be important to both of them. She feels asinine, like a dog with a bird at his door, only to be shut out. A choked sob slips past her lips, and she's done for. She curls in on herself, legs to her chest as she cries until her body could no longer take it, and lets her eyes shut for sleep.

Hours later, Tyler stumbles into his house, plopping off his soaking wet boots on the rug at the garage door. He's slightly dry from his ride home, but his clothes still cling to his skin, making him shiver when he walks into the house. He turns to lock the door behind him, shuffling into the laundry room that connected the garage and the house. He puts his wet hat on the hook, peeling out of his sopping shirt and jeans, finding a change of clothes and towel set out for him. He smiled, knowing he'd likely find his girlfriend passed out on the couch with the weather forecast still playing on the screen. He changed quickly, hands itching to pull her into his hold and fall into a deep sleep. As he leaves the laundry room and heads to the kitchen, he notes the dinner table set with placemats and silverware next to them. He gives the set up a confused look before shrugging, tossing back a glass of water before walking towards the living room.

The empty room stops him in his tracks completely. The TV had been shut off, only a black screen staring back at him. There had been no indication that Y/N had been here at all-the blankets were folded neatly into the basket, pillows still upright and straight. He looked for anything-a charger plugged into the wall, her current read on the coffee table, an empty mug-but found no signs of the girl he loved. 'Maybe she had an early night,' his mind tried to grasp an explanation of why she wasn't where she always was when he was out on a chase.

Tyler's hand wipes his face, rubbing his tired eyes as he stomps up the stairs to their shared bedroom. The hallway is cloaked in darkness, and he has to use his phone's flashlight just to make his way to the door. He turns it off when he turns the knob and pushes the door open, not wanting the blinding light to disturb her. He makes out her figure curled into her side of the bed, looking small. He frowns again, it was always guaranteed she'd be curled into his pillow if he was gone, often wrapped in some article of his clothing, if not completely dressed in only his clothes.

Wordlessly, he comes to her side of the bed to kiss her head, checking in to make sure she was okay. Moonlight from the window illuminates her face, and he finds his chest tightening as he looks at her. Tears had dried to her skin, and a frown was etched onto her face, even in her slumber. He pushes hair from her face, finding the strand curled, and kisses her forehead lightly. He pulls the covers over her more, making sure she was entirely tucked in. With a worried frown now marking his own face, he shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He opens the door and flicks on the light, the sight in front of him bringing his confusion to new heights.

A white sundress stares back at him, sitting crumpled on the counter. The puffy sleeves are deflated, and the slit on the leg had flopped over, exposing the other side of the fabric. This dress only made an appearance for special occasions, mainly because he couldn't keep his hands off of her when she wore it. She'd talked about it for weeks, she was going to wear it on their anniver-he stills-no. Tyler's heart sinks to his feet, hammering against his chest so loudly it rattles his eardrums. There is no way he'd forgotten. The unusual things in his home began to add up, and, with shaking hands, he reaches for his phone and stares down at the photo of her smiling back at him. She's standing in a poncho, drenched, but smiling as she uses her hand to point towards a barreling storm in the distance. Sure enough, in the slew of notifications he'd ignored, sits a calendar reminder:

'Our anniversary date ;) <3'

He plops down on the side of the tub and scrolls through the messages and calls Y/N had left, clicking on the voicemail she'd left, her sweet voice filling his ears:

'Hey Ty, it's almost nine, I just...um, just checking on you. I-I don't know if you're just running late or you forgot, but...I love you, see you soon. Be careful, please. Call me when you get this.'

He pieces it together quickly-the table set up for two, his favorite dress she'd been wearing, her hair curled just to look nice for him-the realization guts him. He had been stupid, so caught up in the thrill of the chase he completely forgot about the one thing that always brought him home. His brain recalls her excitement over the dinner she would cook, and he had planned on bringing flowers and her favorite sweets from that bakery downtown, hoping to charm that dress right off of her. He pushes his damp hair back with his hands, he had fucked up, and royally. The reason she hadn't done the things she normally did when he was gone was because he wasn't supposed to be gone at all.

He breaths deeply before brushing his teeth, sliding into the bed next to her and pulling her close. He'd hold her while he could, because he'd spend the next few days groveling for her forgiveness. He'd wake up early-clean up the dishes from last night, cook her breakfast, do the laundry, pick up groceries for the week. Hell, he'd kiss her fucking feet if it meant she'd forgive him. His eyes shut closed with sleep, and night quickly fades into morning.

Y/N is the first to wake, her skin burning under Tyler's touch. She immediately rolls away from his grasp, and the content look on his sleeping face makes her flame with anger. She rolls her eyes and stomps out of the room, purposefully slamming the door to the bedroom enough to rattle the frames on the walls. The noise jostles Tyler from his sleep, and he sits up in his bed, allowing himself only a minute of solitude before he realizes he's under the dog house.

Quietly, he stomps down the stairs, finding Y/N already standing at the sink, sleeves pushed up as she scrubs at a pot hastily. Her face is drawn into an angry frown, and the air is thick with tension. There's none of her music filtering through the tiny speaker in the window, none of her humming as she works. She's angry, she's hurt, and all she really wants is an apology.

"Mornin'," his voice is raspy, and he awkwardly hovers behind her, watching from a distance as she ignores him. He comes over and lightly grabs her arm, attempting to take over the task. "I can do that, darlin', you go sit at the bar and I'll cook you breakfast, yeah?"

She snatches her arm from his grasp and gives him an unpleasant look, only returning to the dishes in front of her as she shakes her head. He gives a deep sigh, stepping away from her to give her space.

Her silent treatment was always the worst.

"Baby, please, I-I know I fucked up, I'm just trying to make it up to you, let me-"

She lets out an angry laugh, dropping the pot back into the soapy sink with a shake of her head. Her veins fill with a fury she can't control, and she's almost blinded by her rage.

"Fucked up is an understatement, Tyler."

Her angry words were piercing, but at least she was talking.

"Y/N/N, I know, I'm going to make this up to you. I'll-"

"I don't want to hear your lies that I hear every time you mess up, Tyler. You're not going to take time away from chasing, so you can stop feeding me that same lie."

Her honesty stops him in his tracks. He starts to feel defensive, his own anger rising to the surface.

"Just listen-"

The bowl she's cleaning clamors against the other dishes in a loud fashion, making him jump slightly as she turns to face him. Fury is written across her face completely.

"No! You listen! I planned this for weeks, Tyler, weeks! I did everything, the cooking, the cleaning, the waiting around for four fucking hours! All you had to do was show up, and you couldn't even do that."

She swallows thickly, the anger beginning to fester into the sadness she'd been shoving down. Her chest moves in short breaths, and she tries to control her breathing as she looks up at him. He notes her teary eyes-she's not really angry, she's hurting.

"It would've been fine if this was a one off thing, but it isn't. You and I both know that." Her voice is lacking the fire it once had, replaced with a wave of vulnerability she rarely lets show. She pauses and wipes her hands with the kitchen towel in her hands. Her eyes dart across the room in thought, never meeting his. "First it was my birthday, and then not just one, but two dates, and now this. Every other time I just let it go, not wanting to start anything, but I can't anymore, because it just keeps happening. Tyler, I love you, but you're breaking my heart."

Her bottom lip wobbles as she takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, trying to have a conversation with the man she was begging to love her the way she loved him.

"I'm not asking you to give it up, I'm just asking for one day, maybe every couple weeks? I feel like I sleep next to you but I never see you, and-," her eyebrows furrow before she takes a defensive step back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I just don't want to have to beg you to want to spend time with me."

Tyler's heart shatters. He fumbles to come up with the right words, knowing the wrong ones could ruin everything. He loved her immeasurably, and he'd been so goddamn blind. His mind raced with the dozens of things she does for him without being asked-making sure he had dry clothes after chasing, ensuring he had a decent meal every time he came home, tens upon hundreds of tiny actions that he had taken for granted. When was the last time he'd done something like that for her? The one time she had asked him, weeks in advance, to save a day for her, he had neglected it completely, unintentionally or not.

She looks down at her feet, feeling so incredibly small, invisible, like the man in front of her can't see her at all. She was tired of trying to keep their relationship alive all on her own. She wasn't in denial that Tyler loved her, she knew he did, but the last few months had felt as if he hardly remembered she was there. Her anxiety spirals-did he really love her, or was she just convenient for him?

"I know that chasing is important to you, and I love seeing you do it, but it always comes before me. I just want to know, will I ever come first?" Her voice is so, so hurt, and the girl he knows has withered away. The only thing that remains is the shell of her in front of him, pleading for him to just notice her. "It's okay if not, I-I just need to know. Because I can't keep having this fight, just tell me the truth so if the answer is no, I can move on."

Tyler's heart hammers, his own insecurity flaring.

"W-What? No, no, chasin' doesn't come before you, ever. Y-You know that."

She gives him a doubtful look.

"You do know that right?"

"Tyler, name one time that you've dropped everything from chasing a storm to do something for me?"

She stands leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of her. His mind cannot conjure one situation, and he knows she's right, he'd never put her first. Not once. He had missed her birthday party just last month for a big storm over in Kansas, on his own. The rest of the Wranglers had even cancelled to be there for her. Both Boone and Lilly both had called him from the party to reprimand him, and he'd stayed anyways. Then he'd done it again, twice, just two weeks later. Each time, she'd forgiven him with open arms, never fighting him on it, simply accepting his lie that he'd never do it again.

She simply nods, waiting to see how long it would take Tyler to realize just how miserable this had been for her. He grows defensive, trying to make excuses for his actions.

"That storm in Kansas, w-we haven't seen a storm that scale since-"

"Tyler, save it," she starts, her voice growing an edge. "You answered my question, that's all I needed to know."

He watches as she literally and metaphorically throws in the towel, a somber look written across her face.

“I-I need some air.”

She says nothing else, only sliding on her shoes and slipping out the garage door. He expects to hear the jangling of her keys and then the roar of her car’s engine, but neither come-she’d taken out on foot.

Tyler ignores the rush of tears that threatened to spill from behind his eyes, his chest so full of guilt it feels like he might combust from one single sob. He stews in his emotions as he resumes the task she'd started-at least when she got back, the dishes would be one less thing for her to worry about. As his hands scrubbed at various pots and pans, he thought about the thousands of things he wanted to do to show her that he was serious. He wanted to run after her, to pull her back into his house, but he knew she needed her space, time away from him to think. Tyler wrestles with his emotions, knowing this could very well be the end of them, and it'd be his fault entirely. He'd let the best thing in his life slip entirely out of his grasp, all because he'd had his head in the clouds. It had been obvious to everyone around him, except him. How had he been so blind to her anguish?

He moves around the kitchen in complete silence, only the rattle of the dishes he's putting away filling his ears. He ponders over the dark hue forming across the sky, wishing Y/N had taken a jacket or an umbrella with her. He wonders if he should call her, just to tell her that he could leave while she stayed here, he didn't want her in the rain. He doesn't overthink it and pulls up her contact, letting it ring before he hears vibrating. His eyes turn to the direction of the noise.

Shit.

She'd left her phone here.

He turns his attention to the slew of missed messages on his own phone. Just twenty minutes ago, Dexter had texted him about a storm forming just miles from his home. The messages after were from Dani, Boone, and Lilly, all asking if he and Y/N were okay. His eyebrows pinched and he frowned, about to respond with a question mark before he heard the shrill ring of the tornado siren outside his window. His eyes glance up to see a darkening sky, heavy clouds sitting low in the sky.

He tosses his phone into his pocket before he's pulling on his still-wet boots and bolting out his garage door. A tornado was minutes from hitting here, and his girlfriend was wandering around aimlessly. She couldn't have gone far, his house sat miles from town, the only neighbors being a relatively empty home the next street over-the family only visited during the winter months, they paid him handsomely to keep their grass cut when they weren't in town-so he knew that she wouldn't have anyone to look out for her. His boots clicked on asphalt, his voice hoarse as he yelled after her, her name falling desperately from his lips as the wind whipped around his face.

With no signs of her appearing, his heart began to hammer against his chest. Rain began to pelt his clothes and it only urged his aching legs to move faster. His mind conjures images he fears-her stuck under a collapsed tree or shed, left for dead because he'd been stupid. They urged him to the neighbor's house, chest searing with anxiety as he heaved, still not seeing anything-no flashes of the simple dress she'd been wearing, or the cardigan she'd wore over it tossed somewhere. Before his brain could stop him, he was pulling the spare key from under the mat, all but trespassing into his neighbor's home, shouting her name. Nothing.

He slams the door, running a hand through his hair as he begins to panic. His chest feels tight, his mind growing fuzzy with the thought of her being out in this storm alone. The air only grows more thick, and a crack of lightning startles him. It sends him into taking off on foot in their backyard, even slinging open the door of the storm shelter to see if she'd hid there. It was empty, making him let out a string of curses to the sky.

Then, he hears her voice. He almost thinks he's imagining it, her tone is sweet and gentle, and he thinks he's losing his mind.

"Hey, it's okay little guy."

It's the voice he knows well-the voice she uses for animals and babies. His jade eyes turn to see her hair blowing in the wind, her dress wet from the weather. She's crouched down and attempting to move a stack of firewood from the neighbors yard, her eyes on alert she hears Tyler's footsteps crunch the ground behind her. She whips around, looking at him.

"Tyler, help me, there's a rabbit, he's stuck."

Tyler looks at her with wide eyes. His voice is loud over the sirens blaring in the air and the wind whipping.

"Darlin', there's a big ass storm coming right for us! Leave it! We gotta get down, now!"

Her eyes are fiery when she turns back to look at him.

"Then leave, but I'm not leaving him here!"

Her hands hastily moved large pieces of firewood, getting more and more drenched. She lifts a particularly heavy one and throws it across the grass.

"If you're just going to stand there and not help, then go! I don't need you hovering because you care all of a sudden!"

Tyler's heart shatters, she thought he didn't care? Of course he cared, but he was more concerned with keeping her safe. He sighs at her stubbornness, moving to help lift the firewood at a faster pace. She lifts a particularly stubborn piece, drawing her hand back quickly with a soft 'fuck!' He tosses her a concerned look but moves on working to get the firewood moved. His muscle flexes as Tyler throws the piece caging the animal in and watches as it bolts towards the treeline. He slings an arm around her shoulder as the roar of the storm grows closer, all but manhandling her into the storm shelter he'd just looked in. It wasn't shabby by any means, well stocked and clean, but small. He shuts the door with a grunt, turning to face her and watching as she digs through a first aid kit.

"What're you doin'?"

She says nothing, only sticking out her right hand for him to see. It's bleeding from a cut, tiny pieces of wood protruding from around it.

"Shit, baby," he moves to grab the kit from her. "Stop, just stop tryin' to do it on your own, it's only going to get worse."

She stills, looking up at him with dagger-like eyes.

"Look, you did your job. I'm safe here, you can go."

Go? Where the hell did she think he was going?

"I know you're itching to go chase it, it's probably going to be a big one."

Oh.

"You think I'm going to leave you here alone to go chase this thing?"

She shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time."

It's his turn to look offended, even though he shouldn't be. She was only speaking the truth. He knows he would be quick to defend himself, but he doesn't, knowing the hurt he'd bestowed upon her just hours beforehand. He lightly tugs the kit away from her, giving the soft, sympathetic eyes that had her hardened heart melting. He makes quiet work of removing the shards of wood, and moves to clean it with the tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol. She winces when it makes contact with the open wound, but a sweet kiss to her temple has her distracted as he finishes bandaging it. When he looks down at her, he finds her eyes already looking up at him. The look she gives him begs him to say something, to just apologize and say he'd do better, and actually mean it this time. He opens his mouth to speak, but it's cut off by a boisterous slam to the shelter door, one that startles Y/N, and she slides into his hold without thinking.

"What the hell was that?!" Her voice trembles.

"I don't know." He doesn't want to move her from his arms, but he needs to see what's going on. He kisses her temple again, setting her on the twin sized mattress that sat on the ground. He makes his way up the stairs of the shelter, moving to push the door open. He knows it's a stupid, risky move, but he does it anyway.

He pushes it forward, the door not even budging. He frowns, moving positions to put his entire body weight on the door, and the door remains shut. He pushes with his entire strength multiple times, before his mind draws a conclusion.

"It's probably a tree or somethin'," He sighs as he steps away from the door. "Probably got knocked down by the wind, fell over on top of the door."

"So we're trapped here?"

"For the time being, yes," He starts, coming to sit down next to her, her head resting on his shoulder. "But I'll get in touch with Dexter and Dani, maybe Boone too. See if one of them can get a truck out here and move it. We'll have to wait for this storm to pass though."

He fishes out his phone and begins to type, his eyes darting across the screen before Dexter's typing bubble finally forms into a message.

'We'll be there as soon as this storm settles!'

Y/N nods when he shows her the message, moving to rest her head on his chest, her heart racing. Without a word, he pulls her into his lap, his eyes now focused on her bandaged hand. She notes his concern quickly.

"It's fine, doesn't even really hurt. Just stings."

He shakes his head.

"Doesn't matter. You got hurt, again, because I did somethin' dumb as hell. Seems like all I've done for the past few months is hurt you. M'sorry, I really am. I fucked up, and I'm prepared to grovel for it."

She nods, biting her lip as she pushes a section of wet hair out of his face.

"You did, but that doesn't mean you can't fix it. Just, this time, promise you'll actually do what you say you will. Don't let it be empty words."

He makes an 'X' motion over the center of his chest-cross my heart-and watches as a small smile forms across her face. He notes it's genuine nature and it forms a smile of his own across his face.

He pulls her head softly under his chin, moving his face to where he's whispering directly into her ear. She leans into his warmth, still shivering from her damp clothes.

"I love you," his voice is a sincere whisper, laced with every ounce of emotion he can muster. She kisses the underside of his jaw, making him close his eyes and sigh.

"I know. I love you too, even when you really piss me off."

He lets out a chuckle, kissing behind her ear, a spot that makes her entire frame stiffen in his hold. He places another one just under it, making her pull away for a moment.

"You're playing with fire, Owens. What are you gonna do, take me on this twin mattress on the floor?"

Her voice is laced with sarcasm and humor, completely joking. One look in his now emerald green irises tells her he wasn't joking, not one ounce of him thought it was a joke.

"Well, might as well start my grovelin' as quickly as possible, got a lot to catch up on." He kisses the spot again, making her hand fly to his damp hair. "And I haven't done this in far too long."

His hands come to her hips, pulling her in even closer in his lap. His calloused hands land on her ass, and she yelps.

“Ty, you can’t be serious.”

He sends her a raised eyebrow. His hand squeezes the supple skin of her bottom.

“Baby,” his voice is just above a whisper, deathly serious, his gaze darkening. “When have I ever joked about taking you any time, any place?"

Y/N shudders. "Never."

"That's what I thought."

His lips connect with hers in a rough manner, effectively shutting her up.

A few hours later, as Y/N lies across Tyler's chest, her dress tossed somewhere, she's awoken by a sharp knock at the shelter door.

"T? Y/N/N? Hey, we're here. We're gonna get this tree off of y'all!" Boone's voice fills her ears and she all but scrambles up, face flushed red with embarrassment at the thought of them walking into the shelter to see her and Tyler both bare. Tyler only snoozes and turns over, and she rolls her eyes, he'd sleep through a hurricane-literally. She grabs his shirt and lightly pops him with it.

"Tyler!" She whispers-shouts, quickly buttoning up the front of her dress she'd found on the floor. His jade eyes pop open, shuffling off the blanket that had been draped across him for his modesty.

"Hm, what?" His voice comes out groggy.

"Get up, get dressed, they're here!" She throws her cardigan back on her shoulders as she tosses his jeans over to him, his belt buckle just missing his head. Tyler rubs his eyes tiredly, not quite awake enough for him to care about being completely naked.

Y/N turns to him to fuss, but she's cut off at the creaking of the storm shelter's door opening. She stills, face burning from a hot blush. From above ground, Boone, Dani and Dexter look down at them, the latter two jaws dropping and darting their eyes away. Boone clocks Tyler and swallows thickly.

"Ty, man, I am seein' entirely way too much of you right now."

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@rebel-ezra

@fanboysfangirl

@mbioooo0000

#tyler owens x you #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens x reader #tyler twisters #tyler owens #twisters #request #glen powell x reader #glen powell #glen powell x you

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my-autism-adhd-blog · 1 year

Text

Alright people…it’s A N G R Y time! 😡

A boy was kicked out of a New Jersey movie theater after using the bathroom with his mom. This instantly made me angry because some people with high support needs do need help using the bathroom sometimes.

According to this report:

The incident began when Gallinaro’s son needed to use the bathroom and she took him into the women’s restroom. There is no family restroom at the Cinemark in Hazlet, according to the lawsuit.

“My son is not equipped to go into a men’s bathroom in a public setting alone,” Gallinaro told NJ Advance Media last week. “I took him to the women’s bathroom.”

There were other women in the restroom, some of them mothers, she said.

“Right away, they see he’s with me. They pick up why he’s in the bathroom with me,” she said, noting that she noticed one woman “looking at me smiling.”

The 59-year-old manager of the movie theater wasn’t as understanding, the suit alleges.

The manager angrily approached and “shouted blatantly discriminatory remarks” toward the mother and the 15-year-old, the lawsuit alleges.

“A grown man should not be in the women’s restroom,” the manager said in the crowded lobby, according to the suit. “This is not a transgender bathroom.”

Even though there were no other complaints, the manager allegedly ordered the Gallinaros off the property and directed an assistant manager to call the police, the suit states.

This is complete discrimination. Please reblog this to help spread the word. This can’t keep happening.

#autism #actually autistic #high support needs #this made me so angry #please reblog and spread the word #this is discrimination #autism advocacy

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httpdwaekki · 6 months

Text

sleepy cramps | b.c.

summary: your cramps wake you up but channie is there to help.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: i tried to keep it gender neutral, however!! periods and cramps are mentions so read at your own risk.

a/n: omg ash knows how to post at a normal time when she's not sleep deprived *gasp* crazy right? you guys know the drill not proof read too many pet names blah blah. i have realized that i apparently need alot of comfort in my life because that is all i write LMAO. anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

p.s. pls send me some requests i really wanna try and branch out but i have no ideas, okay love u bye. <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

“baby?” you hear a familiar aussie voice call out. “i’m home!” you hear him take off his shoes and set his bag down. “baby?” he yells once more, keys jingling as he places them on a hook by the door.

you let out a grunt, hoping to signal to him where you were. you were currently bundled up half asleep in your shared bed, facing the door. you were exhausted from the day and your period, and barely keeping your eyes open.

the hall light flicks on before a figure appears in the doorway. you lift up your head a bit, giving him a sleepy smile before settling back into your warm cocoon of soft blankets and plushies.

he smiles before making his way to the side of bed, squatting down to eye level with you. he lifts his hand, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “hi pretty.” your cheeks warm.

“hi bub.” you mumble. “you sleepy bug?” he asks softly. you nod, a yawn escaping you as if emphasizing your drowsiness.

he smiles, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “alright bub, give me 10 minutes to get ready for bed then i’ll come lay down okay?” you nod once more, sleepy smile still present on your face.

he moves, placing a kiss on your lips before standing to his full height. “i’ll be right back!” he yelled, running into your en-suite. you giggle before relaxing into your cocoon, sleep welcoming you quickly.

once chan finished in the bathroom, he came out to find you curled up, now facing his side of the bed, soft even breathes escaping you.

he coos before making his way to his side of the bed. he lifted the sheets, sliding under them before gently pulling you to him, body melting into his.

he wraps his arms around you, “good night my sleepy baby, i love you.” he whispers, placing a kiss on your temple, before relaxing, letting sleep take over.

this didn’t last long however, chan lightly awoke maybe an hour later, to you stirring in your sleep, light whimpers escaping you. after hearing the first whimpers leave your mouth, he was very alert. he quickly looks over your body trying to determine what’s bringing you distress.

he catches a glimpse of your face, which is contorted in discomfort. he places a hand on your cheek once more, trying to gently wake you. “baby wake up.” he whispers, lightly tapping and stroking your cheek.

after a few seconds you finally wake, only to let out a yelp in pain, curling into the body beside you. “hey hey, baby, what’s going on?” he said kissing your head, rubbing your back.

“period.” you managed to get out, trying to curl further into yourself. one arm wrapped around your lower abdomen, the other one clenched into a fist against your forehead.

you start holding your breath unconsciously, praying the pain will subside. chan notices and gently taking your fist in his.

“breathe baby, breathe,” he says calmly, opening your fist to slot your fingers through his. you let out a jagged breath leaning your forehead against your joined hands, “squeeze my hand if you need to jagi but, you gotta breathe baby.” his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

you take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything over than the stabbing pain in your abdomen. “doing so good bug, just breathe.” his other hand coming up to smooth the crease between your eyebrows.

your breathing evens out slightly as the pain lessen a bit. a moment of silence passes before you sit up, hands still entwined. chan follows you, rubbing small circles on your back. “did you take medicine earlier?” you nod your head. “right before you got home.” he hummed, understanding.

“i’ll be right back, okay?” he whispers, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. you nod slightly, focusing on your breathing. he leans over, placing a kiss to the side of your head before getting up and making his way into the bathroom.

you grab a pillow behind you hugging it as you wait for him to return. a few moments passed before he reemerges with your heating pad in hand. he rounds the bed, plugging in the pad before sitting next to you.

“i’m gonna move this quick, okay?” you nod, moving your arms. he grabs the pillow, placing the heating pad in it’s place. “thank you.” you mumble, leaning on him, placing your head on his shoulder. “you’re welcome bug.” he kisses the top of your head before placing his there.

you sit there for a moment before you feel the guilt slowly creep up, the lump forming in the back of your throat. you turn your head into his shoulder as tears start to stream down your face.

“hey, hey, do you want more medicine? what can i do?” he asks, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles. you shake your head, before moving to put your hand in your hands.

“i’m sorry channie,” you cried. “i know you’re probably exhausted, and shouldn’t have to deal with this.” you feel him move in front of you before placing his hands on your face, lifting it. “i am your boyfriend, it is my job to take care of you when you need me. and right now you’re in pain because of something you can’t control.” he pauses, looking into your eyes, gently wiping the tears running down your cheeks.

“i will always take care of you, doesn’t matter, time, place, if i’m tired or not, i will always help you. understand?” you nod, moving into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, shoving your face into his neck.

he wraps his arms around your torso pulling you impossibly closer. “i love so much, jagiya. okay?” you nod your head quickly. “i love you too, more than you know.” you say into his neck, placing a kiss on his skin.

you both stay like that for a moment before chan pulls away slightly. he wipes your tears once more before placing a kiss on your lips. “let’s get you to sleep, hm?” you agree, moving back into the mattress.

you watch him make his way to his side, getting comfortable under the duvet. once settled, he opens his arms for you to lay down. you giggle before quickly laying on him, making sure your heating pad was still in the correct position.

you place a kiss to his jaw before settling into his chest, duvet pulled to cover both of you. “thank you, i love you so much.” he places one last kiss to your head. “ you don’t have to thank me, i love you so much, good night my sleepy baby.” you smile, feeling at peace. “goodnight, channie.” you place a kiss over his heart before both of drift off once more.

do not repost

*feedback is always appreciated as are likes/reblogs!*

#bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #skz #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #ash's archive ‧₊˚✩彡

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mostly-imagines · 4 months

Note

ur jason makes me want to RAHHHH like i just want to wash his hair for him :(((

lexi my girl you're speaking my language

the first time it happens he is so tired. he's just gotten back from patrol and there's blood and dirt all over his armor and his hair is a tousled mess. his shoulders droop as he removes his suit and he can barely keep his eyes open but he's so dirty he has to shower but he's not sure he has the willpower to push his body all the way into the bathroom.

but you, the saving grace that you are, start running a bath for him before he's even fully stripped. he honestly doesn't even register the sound of the water running and can only think about how much he wishes he could sleep right now. so you take his hand and guide him wordlessly to the bathroom, and while he's grateful for the assistance, he still doesn't realize what you're doing until he sees the bath, completely full and welcoming.

you sit on the edge of the tub and he leans back against you, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. if he were slightly more awake he'd feel bad about getting your shirt wet because he's too exhausted to hold himself upright on his own, but right now all he can think about is how relaxed he feels. relaxation is far and few between for him and was bordering on impossible before he met you, so the fact that you have him sitting here so vulnerable, it's basically the equivalent to handing you his life.

you nudge him to sit up a bit further so you can scoop up handfuls of water and get his hair wet without it spilling onto the floor. the warm water feels amazing against his scalp and he squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation.

you squeeze out two pumps from your shampoo bottle, something he was silently hoping you would do because he loves that it smells like you. you spend longer than you need to lathering it into his hair, just wanting to be sure that you can get him as relaxed as possible (you're quite successful)

he tilts his head back as you rinse the suds out of his hair, smiling to himself when you bring one of your hands up to help support the back of his neck. you decide you'll save him of suffering through the wait of the extra step of conditioner and you hand him your best, fluffiest towel to dry off.

you sit up on the bathroom counter as you blow dry his hair on the low setting, careful not to let it get too hot on his head. he palms at your thighs the whole time like a stress ball, trying to fight the urge to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

his eyes are basically closed as you guide him back to your bedroom, climbing onto the bed and pulling him in after you. he collapses his head onto your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. his body is completely lax and he's barely able to mumble out a thank you when he feels you press a gentle kiss to his forehead before sleep finally takes him.

#hey morgan #jason todd thoughts™#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd/reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd/you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf

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jamminvroomvroom · 4 months

Text

busy.

ln x fem!reader

in which there’s a whole club of people waiting to celebrate the race winner, but he’s a bit busy…

hehehehe i’ve been cooking this one up since he won!! obsessed with this, it’s really not my best work in terms of literary masterpieces, but…. it’s horny self indulgence. enjoy, lemme know what you think, love you!!!

songs to set the mood: the alchemy by taylor swift, agora hills by doja cat, so high school by taylor swift, starboy by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni i am so serious! this is just. porn without plot (with a lil plot) like this is peak feral needy lando, dom!lando, oral (f&m receiving), spanking, accidental voyeurism?, max verstappen, dry humping, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), touch of fluff as well, established relationship, crying, overstimulation

3.8k words

tears well in your eyes, the blurry screen telling you absolutely nothing, but it doesn’t matter anymore. he’s done it. the screams engulfing the garage seem to rattle all around you, the vibrations pushing your elation up another notch.

lando norris, formula 1 race winner.

your lando.

his voice floods your ears, so loud that the headphones seem to quiver as he screeches. a few tears roll thick down your face when he thanks his mum and dad, dedicates the win to his grandma, but then he says your name and you forget how to breathe.

“i’m nothing without you, baby.” his voice breaks, and your body is wracked with sobs.

various arms are slung over your shoulder, members of the team guiding you out of the garage and into parc ferme. the metal barrier digs into your ribs as you lean against it, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. his car rolls into position, the p1 marker sending another wave of emotion through you, and when he pulls himself out, he stands tall, proud, points to the sky.

you fall in love with him all over again.

he’s slapped on the back and passed around by the drivers but when he sets his sights on the sea of orange, nothing else exists. he’s flying over your head before you can even register it, elevated by the team and you watch him in awe. when he sees you, eyes locking with yours, a heart-melting, pantie-dropping grin spreads across his face and you can see the redness lining his eyes.

i love you he mouthes.

he’s lowered to the ground, spinning round to face you immediately. he tugs you as close as he can, the barrier definitely leaving it’s mark on both of you, and kisses you messily. all of the energy that he has left, all that he can muster, is put into the kiss, leaving you breathless, tugging on the fabric of his race suit like you’ll die if he gets taken away.

“‘m so proud of you.” you whisper against his lips, shivering as his thumbs graze your cheekbones.

“i love you so fucking much.” he beams, teeth clashing with yours when he kisses you with a smile.

“go get that trophy, mr norris.” you coo, and he winks, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, he’s gone.

champagne vapour leaves your skin sticky.

“lando, we gotta go.” you breathe, head rolling back to give him even more access to your strained neck, resting against the door of your shared hotel room.

you’re draped in orange satin, obviously, the short dress clinging to you deliciously, the one you always pack just in case. lando had been trying to convince you to stay in and let him have his way with you, and the second he walked out of the bathroom, still dripping from his shower, there was no way the pair of you were heading anywhere in a hurry.

“says who?” he grunts, his hips digging into yours.

“there’s a whole club waiting to celebrate with you-“

“the only person i want to celebrate with is you.” he punctuates his words with a harsh nip of his teeth.

“lando.” you whine in protest, not because you actually want him to stop, but because you don’t want to deprive him of a night out with his friends.

“try and convince me to go one more time, and i’ll edge you until you fucking cry.” he licks up your neck, tugging you from against the door, and guides you towards the bed. “and when you’re begging for me to make you cum, i’ll get you dressed up all pretty and we’ll go to the club with you dripping down your thighs.”

your lips quivers, caught between your teeth at his promise. you know he means it. his eyes darken when you nod quickening your pace until you’re stood at the foot of the bed. he’d only made it as far as putting his jeans on, so you rake your nails down his chest, watching as the tanned skin pales as you dig your fingertips in.

you teeter on your tip toes, leaning up to kiss him but he pulls back, smirking, holding you at arms length while he wiggles his jeans off and clambers onto the bed. you pout, watching him position himself up against the headboard, curling two fingers that beckon you forwards. you kick off your heels, crawling up the bed until you sit pretty on his lap, your dress riding up your thighs as you straddle him, leaving the lace of your panties flush against the cotton of his underwear.

you lean in to kiss him, but his fingers catch your chin, holding you back. you whine at the way he restrains you for a second time, wanting nothing more to melt into his frame while you lick into his mouth. he tuts, damp curls falling over his forehead.

“five minutes ago you wanted to go out.” lando tilts his head accusingly, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“changed my mind.” you hum, attempting to roll your hips. he slaps your thigh, light enough that it doesn’t hurt, hard enough that you sink into submission.

“you’re gonna have to prove that to me.” he sighs, feigning sympathy. you’re pulsing against him, and he can feel the damp heat of your cunt. “you’re gonna grind your little pussy on me until i can see how wet you are. gotta convince me, baby.” he grins at you, flashing his teeth. your jaw goes slack.

“lan.” you moan, eyes widening at his instruction.

“show me how bad you wanna congratulate me.” lando’s voice drops an octave, gravelly and direct, sending bolts of lightning down your spine.

you rock your hips over his bulge, slowly at first, tentative for the first couple of glides. you can feel how hard he is, your clit bumping the thick head of his cock as you grind down on him. your wetness begins to seep through the skimpy lace as you pick up the pace, revelling in the friction, the fire that you’ve lit between your two bodies.

lando makes no effort to help you, not at first, watching smugly as you slick him up. he can feel your warmth washing over him, the way you struggle to keep going as the pleasure builds. he focuses his eyes on the splotch growing on his crotch, honing in on the way your folds are slipping out of your quite frankly useless underwear. his lip catches between his teeth, pupils blown wide. his self restraint completely dissolves, one hand tangling in your hair, slotting his lips over yours, while his other flies to your waist forcing your hips backwards and forwards.

“wanna get my tongue on you, taste the mess you’ve made.” he mumbles against your lips. your thighs clench around his waist, rutting frantically on his lap. “‘n then i’m gonna get my fingers inside of you. it’ll be so easy, won’t it? can feel you dripping already. messy girl.”

“please.” you rasp. “lando, i need you.” you’re pleading, pushing his curls back and tugging hard at the chocolate strands.

“oh, honey,” he starts, flipping you onto your back. you gasp, smoothing your hands over the slope of his back, your nails raking between his shoulder blades. “i’m gonna have you exactly how i want you.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to get you naked, peeling sodden lace down your thighs and shoving the satin of your dress over your tits, off of your frame. it cascades onto the floor, wrinkled in a heap, but you couldn’t possibly care less, not when he’s snaking down your body on a mission. his tongue drags over your clavicle, over the curve of your breast, stopping briefly to tease your nipple. he scrapes his teeth over the bud, continuing his trail over your abdomen, the plush skin of your belly.

“say please.” lando taunts, staring up at you through thick lashes. he rests his head against your hip bone, raising an eyebrow. you’re shaking already, in no mood to play games. if this is what he wants, you can’t deny him. he’s your race winner.

“please, baby. want your tongue on me.” you pant, softening your eyes in sheer desperation.

“where?” he coos, punctuating his borderline cruel question with soft kisses over your navel.

you smile coyly, keeping eye contact as your fingers dart between your spread thighs. you dip into your folds, splaying them open for him, tracing your clit a few times. you’re utterly soaked, impressed almost.

“right here.” you’re blushing, but you know just how he likes it, and your tactics are proven right when he groans, guttural and feral, pinning your thighs to the mattress.

your head thuds against the pillows at the sensation of the first swipe, his tongue dragging from your opening to your swollen clit. his face is submerged between your thighs, you can’t see him anymore, but you can certainly feel him. you can feel the slow glide of his tongue, tasting every little drop of you, can feel the vibration when he hums out in pure bliss.

it makes your head spin, the way most guys would expect you to drop to your knees, but lando gets his kicks on his, lost between your thighs. your eyes roll back every time he burrows himself deeper, slurping obscenely where you’re dripping.

“lando!” you grit your teeth, nearing the edge, and it spurs him on, two fingers running up the crease of your thigh, lathering through your wetness.

the digits glide inside of you seamlessly, casting an echo of noise that makes you blush. he groans against your clit - you’re utterly soaked - sending a buzz shooting up your spine.

“oh, baby.” he slurs, enticed, rutting against the mattress. you’re in an absolute state, and it’s all his fault.

two fingers curl, your feet kick out uncontrollably, and he laughs, laughs, into your cunt. you can’t help yourself, barrelling towards your release, unable to resist the rush of white hot pleasure. he fucks his fingers into you even faster, you scream, throat going raw as he scissors in and out of you. your foot finds his shoulder, trying to kick him away, teetering dangerously close to the brink of overstimulation. he doesn’t let it phase him, aside from the furrowing of his brows in annoyance, slinging your leg over his shoulder and splitting you open.

“my- oh god.” you choke, spasming up the mattress. he’s not even thrusting his fingers anymore, instead he’s grinding them against that one special spot, sucking hard at your clit.

you cum again, limp on the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. you’re slurring his name, babbling incoherently when he pulls off of you, sitting back on his knees. he looks proud of himself, too proud, smirking at your lifeless body. you feel like you’re part of the mattress, so sunken into it and exhausted. he’s covered in you, lips swollen maroon, fingers coated. every part of him that has touched you seems to shine in the dim light. his curls have dried now, fluffy and untamed, falling over his greying eyes.

“taste better than champagne.” he whispers, falling onto his forearms and caging you in.

your skin litters with goosebumps, his bare chest against yours, and you crane your head, lazily kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips, mouthing down his jaw until you reach the sensitive skin below his ear. you scrape your teeth down his jugular, slow, sinking in softly to the bulk of his shoulder. he falters, shivering, collapsing his entire body weight onto you.

plump lips suck purple splotches onto the base of his neck, where no one will see.

you want him to lose control, ram into you and fuck you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, so you continue to tease, misbehave as you rake your teeth over his bronzed skin. his eyes are shut, thick lashes dusting his cheekbones as he succumbs to your torture. your hand skims his belly, muscles pulled taut under your fingertips, and you find the band of his boxers, dipping under the fabric. he registers your touch, and something within him snaps, his eyes flying open. he rolls off of you, finding his feet as he moves from the bed to the mini fridge.

“on your knees.” he grins at you, beckoning you to the carpeted floor.

you’re dazed, staring at the green bottle in his hands. condensation runs down the thick glass of the champagne bottle and you blank, utterly perplexed by what he’s about to do, your thighs involuntarily clenching. lando’s impatient, tutting as his hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you down the bed towards him. you’re shocked back to reality by his brazenness, scrambling from the mattress. you fall to your knees, licking your lips in anticipation, watching him through gleaming doe eyes. he softens, captivated by how ready you are for him, but it’s short-lived and the smirk returns.

“go on, baby. you know what to do.” lando strokes your cheek soothingly. your fingers curl into his waistband once again, and this time he lets you drag his boxers down. his cock springs free, hard and weeping, and your mouth fills with saliva, urgently taking him into your hand. “open wide.”

you look up at him just in time, watching how he raises the champagne bottle. he shakes it, once, twice, and your jaw drops as he pops the bottle. the liquid sprays, frothy and golden, dripping down your chest, over your tits, down your belly. you’re sticky, stickier, watching him in awe as the liquid pools around your knees. you notice how he’s glistening, the spray catching his abs, dripping south.

the noise he makes is carnal, a sigh of relief sounding when you lick over his hip bone, tracing your tongue over his pelvis until you reach the base of his cock. his hips stutter when you take him between your lips, the tip hitting the back of your throat as he immediately gives in to the warmth of your wet mouth. one of his hands works through your hair, bobbing you backwards and forwards, the other clasping tight around the neck of the bottle. he raises it to his parted lips, tipping his head back as he does, the liquid falling into his mouth. your eyes trace the curve of his neck, the swell of his lips, the way his knuckles have turned white contrasting the green glass. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dripping onto the carpet.

“look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” lando grins dopily, his nails scratching over your scalp. the moan that emits, low and needy from the back of your throat, makes him shudder. “enough now.” he pulls you off of him, but he leaves you on your knees.

the hand in your hair travels to cup your jaw, his thumb flush against your reddened lips. he pulls them apart, bringing the bottle down to your level. you accept it, welcoming the fizzy burst of liquid, swallowing it down in gulps that make your head spin. there’s pride in his eyes when you keeps yours trained on him.

“so good for me, so well behaved.” he mumbles, more to himself it seems, but the praise still leaves you weak.

lando extends his hands, the bottle forgotten on the desk, and he pulls you to your feet, flush against him. you grab at him desperately, pawing at his lean body like he’ll disappear.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispers, nosing over your jaw. you flush, cheeks tinting deep and warm. “‘m so in love with you.” he purrs into your ear.

heat and raw emotion flood through your veins, and you’re shoving him backwards towards the bed, climbing on top of him. your knees bump his hips as you straddle him, your hair fanning his shoulders as you kiss him hard.

“love you. ‘m so proud. wanna show you.” your words come out frenzied, muffled as they get lost to his mouth. your teeth clash with his, his winning smile moulding against yours.

“yeah, baby? gonna show me?” lando’s eyes rake over your frame, his hands guiding your hips. you raise yourself up, your hands lining you up, and then…

“oh.”

“fuck.”

you sink down on him, filling yourself up slowly, the both of you panting already. the glide is slow, easy; he’s so big but you’re so wet.

“aren’t you glad we didn’t go out?” he hisses through gritted teeth, entranced by the way you feel, everywhere, all over him.

you nod, frantic in your agreement, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bottom out. it’s addictive, the stretch of him, your hands gliding over his abs as you try to find some balance. you rock your hips, revelling in the slow grind, up and down. your clit grazes his pubic bone with every rise and fall and you swallow hard, his body sticky under your fingertips.

“you did so good today, lan, so pretty up on that top step.” you pant, circling your hips. he groans, pulling you down so that you’re chest to chest, your lips centimetres apart, when the moment is stolen.

lando’s phone buzzes, over and over, max verstappen’s face filling the iphone screen. lando looks at the device on the bedside table, cursing under his breath.

“must be wondering where the race winner is.” you giggle, choosing to make light of the situation, rather than dwell on your ruined orgasm.

“he can wait.” lando grunts, fingers bruising your hips when he flips you onto your back, his cock staying buried so deep inside of you that you see stars when you hit the mattress.

your leg is thrown over his shoulder callously, a stoniness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. he’s determined to finish you off, show you just how bad he’s wanted you all day, remind you that you’re in bed with a someone who knows how to win. the angle change is jarring, it takes you a minute to adjust, not that he gives you the courtesy, fucking into you how you both like it as the call rings out through the room.

“baby- lando!” you yelp, your belly tight. the waves of pleasure swell in your core, his merciless antics send you barreling towards another orgasm. you’re teetering over the edge, his thumb flush against your clit, spasming at his manipulation, dangerously clos-

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

“for fuck sake!” lando swears, pulling out of you. you whine wantonly at the loss, pouting up at him.

he drags you to the edge of the bed until your legs hang over, flipping you angrily onto your belly. your cheek is pressed into the duvet, your toes barely graze the floor. his ringtone continues to sound out and he hastily grabs his phone. he hits the green button the same time he slides back into your cunt.

“what, max?” he spits, thrusting into you, so deep that you can’t help the screech that burns the back of your throat. it’s obscene, really, the way you gush around him at the knowledge that someone else is listening in, at the fact that lando takes pride in how good he makes you feel.

you try to muffle your cries, really, you do, but lando has other plans. he gathers your hair, winding it around his fingers so that he can pull your face out of the comforter. you sob, loud, the lewd squelch of where you’re joined with him more than audible.

“i’m busy. fuck off.” lando growls throwing the phone down onto the bed, conveniently right next to your head. the call is still in progress, but max is quick to hang up when he hears your shaky breath, poorly concealed squeals.

“you’re insane.” you manage to choke out. he laughs wetly, the sound making you dizzy.

lando shuffles the pair of you up the bed, propping you onto your knees, all the while hammering into you with that athletic stamina that makes your head spin. the pad of his index finger traces your thigh, finding home on your clit and the tears fall harder, blurring your vision. he pulls your back to his chest, beginning a deep grind that renders your speechless.

“you liked that, didn’t you? him hearing how good i make you feel.” lando’s breath fans the shell of your ear. you nod, mumbling something incoherent, too blissfully exhausted.

‘cuz you’re so good to me. so so good to me.

“thought about shoving your panties in your mouth to shut you up, but you ruined them, didn’t you baby?” lando circles your clit harder, tugging at your earlobe “remember? when you weren’t being a good for me? but you are now, aren’t you, honey? you’re my good girl, hm?”

you clamp down around him, heat licking down your spine. you’re clammy with sweat, glazed with champagne, at one with him. lando shudders as you tighten around him, holding you as close as he can get. you writhe against him when you hit your peak, slumping against him as you quiver. pearly whites sink into your flesh, hard enough to to ground you, not enough to hurt you. you love it, him, everything about this. you coax him into his orgasm, his thrusts turn sloppy and he cums, thick and hot.

it takes a solid five minutes before you can move, the pair of you crawling up the bed, stretching like two sun-kissed cats. you’re sweaty, stuck together tangled between white bedding that definitely needs changing.

“that was-“

“better than any race win.” lando sighs, languidly smiling against your hair line where he lays gentle kisses, his entire demeanour changed in a matter of minutes.

“you’re just saying that.” you tease, drumming your fingers over his chest.

“no, ‘m not. i loved every moment of today, best day of my life,” he breathes, dazed. “but i love you more.”

max sips his drink, the dial tone sounding through his ears.

“just won a fucking race and he’s not here yet.” oscar laughs. typical lando.

the call goes to voicemail, but max is drunk, persistent, and quite frankly, feeling a little annoying.

“‘m gonna try him again.” max nods his head, tapping against his phone screen impatiently.

“did you consider the fact that he might be… busy?” charles smirks into his drink, slumping against the back of the booth.

it’s too late, the ferrari drivers suggestion falls on deaf ears. max has made the call, again, but this time he gets an answer.

“where the fuck are you?” max asks, but then his face pales.

“what?” oscar tilts his head, watching in confusion as max wrinkles his nose.

the phone goes flying from max’s hands, thudding against the cushioned seats, his jaw hanging agape. once the disbelief subsides, he’s giggling like a child.

“guess he was busy then, hm?” charles raises a knowing eyebrow.

“yeah,” max is red now, cackling. “something like that.”

hehe whoops

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#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris oneshot #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 fic #formula 1 smut #f1 fluff #formula 1 fluff #f1 driver x you #formula 1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #formula 1 driver x reader #lando norris imagine #f1

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 4 months

Text

“hungover” - hotch x fem!reader

after a girls’ night in, you wake up next to your boyfriend.

1380 words - FLUFFY FLUFF

cw; mentions of alcohol and food, implied age gap?, typical hangover, jemily agenda (sry not sry)

a/n: I wrote this on my phone on vacation bc I have a serious problem

———————

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you are not in your clothes.

You aren’t in your clothes. And you only realize it because of the scent wafting up your nose. Sea Salt Breeze - the cologne you’d gotten him for Christmas last year - emanates from the t-shirt that envelopes your upper half. You dip your chin for another whiff, breathing him in deeply. You want the smell inscribed into your brain.

You feel the bed dip and creak and you instinctively shut your eyes, playing possum as Aaron pads into the bathroom. The door whines as he shuts it most of the way, not totally closing it because he thinks you’re still asleep and that the sound of the door shutting will wake you.

Each of your senses turns on one at a time, like your brain waves run on dial-up Internet. You open your eyes and the room is mostly dark, save for the sliver of light creeping in through the outline of the curtains. You run the palm of your hand along Aaron’s sheets and marvel over how soft they are - Egyptian cotton, he’d told you once before.

Your head hurts, but only mildly. You’d certainly been drunker before, but last night was still up there. Penelope made her mojitos strong.

You slowly sit up in the bed as Aaron opens the door, flicking the bathroom light off in the same motion. Your eyes meet his and he cracks a small smile. “Thought you’d still be asleep,” he muses. You love his pale blue boxers and seeing the hair on his legs. His calves are crazy defined - he’s a runner, after all, but still. You rarely see him in anything but a suit and tie, so it’s always a treat. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shake your head, wincing slightly at the movement. Maybe you’re a little more hungover than you thought. “I was already awake,” you mumble, running a hand over your face. “Did you put me in your own clothes last night? I have pajamas in my drawer,” you point out, gesturing to the second drawer of Aaron’s dresser, the one that contains your set of pajamas, a few spare pairs of underwear, and a couple of emergency outfits, just in case you end up sleeping over at his place.

It happens more often than not, so you keep the drawer decently stocked at all times.

“You insisted,” Aaron climbs into the bed, reaching for you. He tugs you to him and you roll over onto your side, and then halfway onto your tummy so that your leg drapes over his and your palm rests flat on his chest.

You can hear his heart beating. It’s like a metronome, steady and guiding and calm. You feel his pointed chin nuzzle into your hair and then, his lips, quick yet effective, against your forehead.

Flashes of last night run through your head. You, Emily and JJ, over at Penelope’s apartment. A symphony of girlish giggles, talking about Emily and JJ’s upcoming wedding date, drinking at least three pitchers of mojitos among the four of you. Watching Dirty Dancing and gabbing the entire time, realizing it’d be a bad idea to drive yourself home, and calling Aaron to come get you.

When he arrived, you called him Hotch and apologized for him having to come get you, and he reminded you that he was Aaron and he was your boyfriend and he would pick you up anytime you needed it. You were determined to play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the ride home, fumbling with his phone until you found it.

You belted out (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life and demanded Aaron sing along. He admitted that he didn’t know all the words and you gave him a stern lecture until you started laughing so hard that you were in tears. Traffic lights reflected Christmas ornament colors in Aaron’s brown eyes as he drove, occasionally glancing over at you.

You swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you berated him for not knowing the words to such a classic song.

And then, once you were back at his place, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at your shoes dumbly until Aaron offered to help you take them off. “Laces too hard,” you mumbled, and Aaron just hummed in agreement before kneeling down to help you.

And then he helped you out of your clothes. He went for your drawer, and you threw a pillow at him. “The college t-shirt,” you demanded with these Bambi-esque eyes.

“Arms up, baby,” Aaron said as he slid his law school t-shirt onto your upper half. He saved that specific term of endearment for times like these, when he was taking care of you, when he himself was exhausted. You could tell he was, too, not only because he kept yawning, but because of that glazed-over look in his chestnut eyes.

You glance down at the words George Washington University, printed over your chest.

Aaron’s arms around you tighten for just a moment as he embraces you, and you dig your face a little further into his chest. “No Jack today?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky.

“At his grandparents’,” Aaron murmurs, and you yawn. He strokes your hair. “How’s your head?”

“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”

Aaron’s hand freezes in your hair, and you lift your head, smirking at him. His mouth has formed a straight line, but you snicker and you can tell he’s trying not to smile at your dirty joke. “Degenerate,” he calls you.

“Prude,” you tease back, inching closer to kiss his jaw briefly before laying your head back down. “It hurts,” you answer his question. “But not as bad as it could.”

“That’s good,” Aaron comments, his hand running through your hair again, gently, the world’s most relaxing and least effective hairbrush. It feels nice, but his hands are so big that his fingers snag on the tangles, accomplishing nothing but making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Nothing wrong with that, though.

“Do you want some Tylenol for your headache?” Aaron asks, and you just curl up into him even more. He’s so warm, and sturdy, and it’s so rare that you get mornings like this. Either you’re both working or Jack has a soccer game or there’s something else going on. It’s nice just to lay around with him, to be mildly hungover and pretend like that’s the only thing going on in either of your lives.

“That would require getting out of bed,” you protest, and feel Aaron’s arms tighten around you. He’s a very doting boa constrictor.

“How about I get it for you, then?” He offers, and you shake your head and shift all your weight onto him. He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise you know you’re only privy to for about twenty minutes right after he’s woken up. “So that’s a no.”

“That’s a no,” you confirm, settling back in to your original position.

You lay like that with him, in comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Until it feels like you’ve melded into one being. Then Aaron finally shifts under you. “Honey, my arm’s asleep,” he whispers, as though he’s afraid to disturb you.

You slither off of him, then clamber out of bed with no amount of grace, going so far as to trip over the corner post of the bed. As Aaron sits up, you exclaim, “I’m okay!” and hold your hands out to steady yourself.

Aaron stifles a laugh and you watch him stand from the bed and he walks towards you, steadying you with one of those gargantuan hands on your shoulder. He then lifts that hand to tip your chin up. You step forward in a silent dance, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him. “Oh, shit,” you murmur. “I bet I have really awful morning breath.”

He just blinks a few times, and then offers you a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, honey, you kind of do,” he admits. You lightly punch him in the pectoral and then head to the en suite to brush your teeth.

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