#fireworks shoot from top of head

[omnisiash]

HRFGRGRGRGFRHHRRR

he’s actually so pretty I’m losing my mind, I am barking, howling, jumping up and down, CLAWING AT THE WALLS why is he so ☹️ I love him I am going feral over this man I would malewife for him he’s literally the definition of silly goof he is causing me to go batshit crazy I wish men were real

[wubbybubbly]

this sprite make me go awooooooooga

[itsgrapes-exe]

YOU GUYS

i NEED people to see this

[baby-pink-flowers]

*jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair* Ahem, you look very lovely.

[darkmatilda]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a spontaneous idea for a new year's eve party doesn't seem so brilliant anymore when there's so much to do and so little time left. and when the sound of fireworks wakes you up with flashbacks. but luckily, reid's right there with you. as always.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer x newbau!female reader, baking cookies together, the beginning is really chaotic, reader has a panic attack and flashbacks from time when she was a hostage (in my previous fic but there's no need to read it before. no major references as usual), mention of shooting. penelope garcia slaying. glasses read one more time (will i ever get bored of this?) a lot of jokes (successful i hope) most of the fic is very fluffy, inspired by new year's eve by taylor swift (i recommend listening to this song on repeat while reading)

𝐚/𝐧: this is probably one of my fav fics of mine, i literally cried while writing (because there's no one to clean up the bottles with me on new year's day)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6k

“Okay, I think we’ve got everything. Although, do you think we have enough types of cheese...?”

“There’s so much cheese it won’t even fit on one board, Pen.”

“Exactly, so maybe we should make two…”

“Hey, look. Do you think these glasses will work for champagne?”

“Two boards—one with cheese, more savory, and the other with…”

“Because I don’t think I have any others. Jesus, I need to wash these; they’re fucking sticky…”

“…and on the second one, we’ll arrange the cookies we’re going to bake…”

“Shit, the cookies. I’m not even sure if this oven works…”

“Wait, did we even buy olives? Fuck, how could we forget olives…”

“Screw the olives! Wash the glasses if you can, and I’ll check the oven…”

“What do you mean, screw the olives?! How the fuck are you supposed to make a cheese board without olives?!”

For about twenty minutes now, you and Garcia had been running around the kitchen in your house, talking over each other non-stop and hardly listening. A grocery bag sat unopened on the kitchen island, you hadn’t started preparing a single one of your overly ambitious snacks, and some pesky gremlin was doing flips on your shoulder, whispering tauntingly, you know it’s highly likely the milk in your fridge is expired, right?

Well, that’s just how it goes when you decide to throw a New Year’s Eve party spontaneously—on New Year’s Eve afternoon. Honestly, it was a fucking miracle so many people agreed to come. And once they said yes, there was no backing out. You had to organize everything: the food, decorating your house, outfits, makeup. With every passing minute, Penelope was transforming into a full-blown organizational beast, completely unsure what to tackle first. The two cute space buns on top of her head had fallen apart, leaving her blonde curls loosely cascading down her neck—not that she even seemed to notice.

You, on the other hand, were losing steam fast. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball on the floor and eat cheese without bothering to arrange it on a board in an aesthetic way. Two types of people under time pressure. 

To make matters worse, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, your voice so filled with irritation that, if you were in the visitor’s shoes, you’d have turned and run for your life. Quickly, you opened the fridge and sniffed the damned milk. No signs of spoilage, thank fuck. There was no way you had time to go back to the store…

You made it to the door, and halfway there, you realized you were still holding the open bottle of milk you had forgotten to put back. You sighed, turned around, and with a double dose of rage, anxiety, and sheer insanity, you finally opened the door.

"Hey," Reid greeted, standing on the doorstep. His glasses were perched on his nose, and his hair was slightly tousled from the rather strong wind that day. Without even looking at you, he pointed to the brown bag hanging from his shoulder. "So, about those board games, when you invited me, I decided to look something up online and ordered one that I think you'll like. It's inspired by the works of Jane Austen, and players take on the roles of characters from the Regency era..."

"Is someone trying to sell you something, or what?" You heard Penelope's voice from the kitchen.

"Anyway, I ordered it, but unfortunately, it didn’t arrive, so I just grabbed chess and..."

You could only manage a confused shake of your head.

"Reid, with all due respect, but what the hell are you talking about?"

He looked at you as if you’d asked him for the juicy details of raccoon marital life.

"You invited me over for New Year’s," he reminded you, frowning slightly, as if wondering whether he’d gotten something wrong—like the day, maybe. "Me and Garcia. We were supposed to play board games..."

Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly remembered he was absolutely right. You had invited him. For board games. And then forgot to cancel after you’d all decided to spend the evening in a completely different way.

"Give me just a second," you said, and without waiting for a reply, slammed the door in his face.

Then you screamed. Stomping your foot like a frustrated child. Why, oh why, did you have the memory of a goldfish? Forgetting literally everything, from buying those damn olives to canceling this meeting. Why did the last day of the year have to suck so much? Why couldn’t anything in your life just go smoothly?

"The plans have… slightly changed," you explained with an apologetic smile when you reopened the door. 

Reid rocked slightly on his heels, his hand clenched around the strap of his bag. He had clearly heard what happened after you closed the door and looked as though he was debating whether to hand you a note with the number of a good psychiatrist.

"But that doesn't mean I'm kicking you out," you assured him quickly. "I’m really, really glad you decided to come, seriously. So, sorry about how things turned out. But still—will you come in? Garcia's here."

He shrugged and followed you inside.

"What exactly does plans have changed mean?" he asked.

He didn’t look around the room—he’d been to your house countless times before. Lately, for the past few months, with an increasing frequency. But he did stare curiously at a disheveled Penelope, who was busy loading glasses into the dishwasher.

"Well, we met up for lunch," she began explaining without even turning to face him. You didn’t waste the little time you had either, pulling ingredients for cookies out of the fridge. "We talked a bit about Derek and Elle spending New Year’s Eve in the Maldives. And our princess here decided that she wasn’t going to spend the evening in a nerdy way, playing nerdy board games, with two nerds like us..."

"I didn’t say that!" you protested indignantly.

"...while they’re sipping cocktails on the beach and having a great time. And so, it turned out we’re throwing a party."

The explanation came to an end, and Reid listened to it all without much emotion on his face, something you caught out of the corner of your eye. But you didn’t expect him to be devastated. After all, it wasn’t as if you had canceled an event the two of you had been counting down to like prisoners marking days on their cell walls, eagerly awaiting freedom.

Standing by the kitchen island, he glanced at you, then at Garcia, then behind him, as if unsure whether he should stay or politely excuse himself and leave.

“You’re invited, by the way,” you clarified, because while you thought it was obvious, maybe it wasn’t so clear to him. “So, yeah, if you’re planning to come, you have no choice—you have to help me bake these cookies. Get with it.”

You tossed him one of the aprons. The other you began tying around your waist.

Reid caught the object you threw, looked at it with furrowed brows, then shifted his gaze to you, a hint of something resembling a smile flickering across his face.

“Who said I’m planning to come?” he asked.

His mock-offensive tone didn’t quite match what he was doing—slipping the apron over his head. It made you snort.

“Oh, what, got other plans, pretty boy?” Penelope teased. “Some wild party at the book club?”

She leaned over to close the dishwasher. But instead of straightening up, she froze in place, staring at her reflection in the machine’s door. Her jaw dropped, and she gasped in something close to horror.

“What happened to my hair? I look... I look like…”

“Like a homeless caveman who just barely won a fight with lightning?” you suggested in a syrupy tone. “But only just.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” she huffed.

She left the kitchen, the sound of her heels echoing as she headed upstairs to the bathroom. Reid turned to himself with a smug expression.

“Does a caveman qualify as homeless if he lives in a cave…”

You interrupted him with your outstretched hand, pressing it to his mouth.

“Cookies, Reid. Not philosophy.”

You were planning to bake simple butter cookies in the shape of stars, and then decorate them with edible glitter. You started pulling out all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, which were soon covering the countertop in your kitchen. You stood side by side, and your eyes were drawn to the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, barely touching his wrists. Unable to resist, you grabbed his hand and started rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"You could've just told me..." he began, looking at you in surprise.

You merely shrugged. You found yourselves facing each other, and you nodded towards his other hand, which he gave you after a brief hesitation. Just like before, you rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, but this time much more slowly. As more of his skin appeared before your eyes, you gathered yourself to speak.

"I feel a bit bad about how things turned out with the games," you admitted, not looking up to meet his gaze. You focused on his hand, holding it by the knuckles.

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice soft without a hint of reproach.

"I should've warned you earlier," you continued stubbornly. "Instead of doing it last minute. And, you know, if you don't want to come to this party, that's totally okay. I know you were expecting something different..."

"I was expecting to spend time with you," he interrupted, then paused to clear his throat. It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. His fingers trembled slightly when you let go, and he immediately shoved it into his pocket—perhaps to hide it. "We can have a game night another time. On a different day. Like, this weekend, for example. If you'd want, of course. Not that I'm pressuring you..."

"I would like that," you assured him, looking up at him with a smile, amused by his over-explaining. It always charmed you. You used to think it was because you didn't know each other well and he still felt nervous around you, but as time passed, you came to realize that maybe that was just how he was. "Seriously. And it's not just because I feel guilty about how I left you hanging today. I'm genuinely curious about that game you ordered. It’s inspired by Austen's novels, right?"

He started to tell you more about it, while you both added the first ingredients into a large glass bowl. As he began to knead the dough with his hands, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, propping your chin on your hand, listening to him.

"...one of the symbols of excess in 17th century England was a dish called A Pie of a Thousand Birds..."

You wondered when the conversation had shifted to this topic, while Penelope was still in the bathroom.

 "...containing various kinds of birds, sometimes in different layers, cooked together. In the earliest records of this dish, it mentions anywhere from a dozen to several dozen birds such as quails, chickens, geese..."

Reid suddenly stopped when his gaze landed on you. He must have been so absorbed in kneading the dough and sharing this tidbit with you that he was completely unaware of the fact that you were staring at him.

You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

 "Is something wrong?"

"No," he quickly assured you, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had a bit of dough on his skin, which seemed to escape his notice. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where he'd left off. "And... quails..."

You couldn't bring yourself to tell him he'd already mentioned them. Instead of that, you moved from your spot, slowly lifting your hands off the counter and approached him to wipe away the stray bit of dough beneath his eye. Reid, wanting to make sure nothing else was left on his face, wiped it with his hand… which was completely covered in dough. At the sight of his expression when he realized what he had done, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, your head resting against his apron from the weight of it. Meanwhile, he desperately tried to wipe away the remnants using the clean skin of his forearms, muttering a few curses under his breath, which only made you laugh harder.

"I see you're having a great time," Penelope returned to the kitchen.

On top of her head were two cute buns once again, resembling little snails.

"The best," you corrected, undeterred, trying once more to wipe his face. This time, not as gently as before, until he flinched back under the pressure of your hand, scrunching his nose tightly.

You glanced at the clock, and your playful mood started to wane. There was still so much to do, and you rallied everyone into action. Penelope rolled up her sleeves to prepare the charcuterie boards (it turned out the olives were at the bottom of the bag), you got to work on the mini sandwiches, and Reid was busy cutting out star shapes from the rolled-out dough using a champagne bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.

“Oh, by the way, Pen,” you began, opening the heated oven to put in the first batch of cookies, “we’re still going to kiss at midnight, right?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed,” your friend replied, focused on arranging various types of cheese into the best possible combination.

Reid, meanwhile, was taking off his apron, folding it into a perfectly neat square, a frown of concentration on his face.

“Why kiss specifically at midnight?” he asked.

“You haven’t heard about that tradition?” you asked, surprised. “A kiss at midnight brings good luck in love and relationships for the whole next year. Skipping it means the opposite.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

“It’s just a gesture. Or maybe, better put, a symbol. But anyway, last year I was having a bit too much fun and passed out before midnight. And, well, I don’t think I need to tell you it wasn’t the best year for relationships. Or rather, the lack of them.”

“Doesn’t that mean you should kiss two people this year? One for the previous year and one for the current one?” Garcia suggested thoughtfully.

You mulled it over as well.

“Actually, that makes sense. But who?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” your friend assured you. “There’s bound to be some handsome volunteer. And if not, Reid could always be your backup option.”

You glanced at him briefly, biting your lip as you considered the suggestion. Funny enough, you hadn’t thought of him at all. Not because you found the idea of kissing him unpleasant or something you wouldn’t want to do. It was just… this tradition felt more like grabbing a random person, the first friend within reach. Something done without much thought—a gesture that, in this context, meant absolutely nothing serious.

Wait, but with Reid, would it mean something serious? Why the hesitation all of a sudden? You shook your head, dismissing the train of thought.

You looked at him again; he seemed to be making a deliberate effort to keep his gaze fixed on Penelope, not on you. Though as soon as he sensed you looking at him, he turned his eyes to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“What do you think?” you asked before you could stop yourself. To ease the sudden, inexplicable tension, you added with a playful smile, “My entire romantic year would rest in your hands—or rather, on your lips. Would you be ready to take on such a sacrifice?”

“Think carefully, darling,” Penelope chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Otherwise, we’ll all have to spend the next twelve months listening to her complain about how awful men are and how unlucky she is in love…”

“I’m starting to feel an unjustified amount of pressure,” Reid remarked cautiously. You kept staring at him, arms crossed over your chest as you stood near the oven, its orange glow casting a warm light across the kitchen.

“No pressure. And just so we’re clear, it’s not like I’m taking advantage of you. You’d benefit from this too. Unless, of course, you decide to kiss someone else—then, fine…”

“Considering I probably won’t know anyone else at this party? Slim chances…”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. Both of them turned to you with curiosity.

“What I mean…” you began hesitantly, gesturing toward him. He was objectively handsome—maybe not every woman’s type, but then again, no man was. In your opinion, though, he absolutely was. There was something about his polished, intellectual demeanor that occasionally clashed with his sharp wit, creating a strangely magnetic allure. You gestured at him again, as if emphasizing your point. “Just try not rolling down the sleeves of that shirt until midnight, and you’ll see your chances aren’t that slim.”

He shook his head, utterly bewildered.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, Pen, explain it to him,” you sighed in mock defeat.

“She means your forearms are sexy,” Penelope clarified without missing a beat.

Reid looked down at his hands as though they belonged to someone else entirely. You exchanged an amused glance with Garcia, and the whole midnight kiss topic… well, it drifted away. You weren’t entirely sure if he had agreed or not.

You wanted to casually bring it up again, but soon Penelope left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone with a tray of freshly baked cookies ready to be decorated. Somehow, to your own surprise, you couldn’t summon the courage to ask.

"I bought edible glitter specifically for these cookies," you said, pulling a small box from the cupboard. "Apparently, it’s flavorless, but it’ll make the star-shaped cookies look magical. Maybe we should mix it with the icing?"

Reid stared intently at the label on the bottle, silent.

"What? What’s wrong?" you asked, suddenly worried.

"That’s not edible glitter," he announced. For a split second, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. But when he noticed your completely bewildered—and now slightly furious—expression, his face quickly returned to its usual stillness. "It’s just regular glitter."

"You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid."

"Since when does edible glitter contain polyethylene terephthalate and aluminum?"

You snatched the package out of his hands, and when his words were confirmed, you slapped your forehead.

"Did I just almost kill all my guests?"

"Maybe not kill them right away," he said, his tone comforting as he took the package back from your hands before you could hit yourself with it again. "Complications from eating include gastrointestinal irritation like vomiting, nausea, and possibly damage to the mucous membranes of the mouth..."

"You're not helping."

"Sorry."

For a moment, you both stood in silence, your gaze still fixed on the tray of cooling cookies.

"But this isn't the end of the world," Reid said gently after a moment. "They still have their... interesting shape. We can decorate them with regular icing. Draw something on them. They may not sparkle, but they'll be just as delicious. And that's probably the most important thing, right?"

You knew he was right, but still, there was a certain sadness in the way you nodded. It took you a while to realize how much you’d been obsessing over such a small thing. You let out a chuckle, and he did the same.

"And I even came up with an idea for what to do with the glitter," you announced after a moment, taking the open box in your hands. A bit of the shimmering particles landed on your outstretched palm, and Reid squinted when you blew on it, sending the glitter his way. "I’ll make you shine. You’ll match the rest of the decorations..."

When Penelope returned to the kitchen, she found herself in the middle of a full-blown war, not even a battle anymore. Reid had both of your hands raised and held still, preventing you from reaching for another handful of glitter. You tried to wriggle out of this trap, kneeing him or doing something, but it wasn't really working. So there you were, looking like you were caught in some kind of bizarre dance neither of you knew the steps to, but your half-smiling faces suggested you weren’t too bothered by it.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to get that glitter out of your hair until the next New Year’s Eve.

*

You had a rule to be careful with alcohol when the party was at your house.

 You preferred to make sure everything was running smoothly. Nothing slipped out of control — no one played baseball with your TV (although you hoped the adult crowd had outgrown that kind of entertainment), no one felt unwell or needed help. Moving between people, conversations, and laughter, asking if anyone needed anything or was having a good time, reminding everyone not to smoke inside. You didn’t notice when it all started to drain you. So much so that you decided to sneak away for a moment in the upstairs bathroom.

You just needed a little time alone, splashing cold water on your neck, playing a game on your phone for five minutes while sitting on the closed toilet seat. That’s all you needed.

Your bathroom had a window, usually left open. The room was on the second floor, so there was no chance anyone could be watching. You never worried about it. The window overlooked the yard of one of your neighbors, whom you didn’t even know. As you returned, you stood with your hands on the cool sink, your eyes half-closed from exhaustion but feeling a sense of relief.

Midnight was in fifteen minutes. The year was ending in fifteen minutes.

A lot has happened over the past twelve months. The most important, of course, was joining the BAU. A huge achievement for someone so young, always commented on with a surprised raise of the eyebrows, so much so that it still hadn’t fully sunk in for you. A fair amount, but still not enough, of cases solved, unsub caught, lives saved.

Apart from the professional achievements, there was also something you couldn’t add to your CV or your dating profile. Memories. The big ones, and the ones often overlooked. The countless smiles exchanged over office desks, the amused nudges of elbows, the hours spent in simple laughter. The nights, the ones spent dancing in clubs or at house parties, the ones in your friends' homes with bottles of wine passed from hand to hand and gossip flowing from your lips, one after the other, in a constant stream of surprised exclamations and sighs. There were also those spent in sad motels during business trips. Many of them, but it was the shabby ones that stuck with you the most. Narrow beds shared with Reid, because of his fear of the dark, which worsened in such places. Sometimes silly conversations and arguments, but also the more serious ones. Comforting. And, of course, you had to include the people around you, those you met this year, and those who have been with you for a long time. All the moments when you were happy, and all the ones when you cried. The books and movies. Those that disappointed you so much that you cursed them for days. Those that made you laugh until you choked, but also the ones that nailed you to the theater seat, your gaze vacant and your mind drifting somewhere on the waves of an existential crisis.

You thought about it all with a small smile on your lips

Unfortunately, when you focused on reflecting on the passing year, another memory hit you—one of those decidedly unpleasant ones. The one where, under the guise of normality, you found yourself in the middle of a robbery, becoming a hostage. And as you watched one body after another drop motionless to the floor, blood pooling around them.

The sink you were leaning against grew warm. Your hands were hot, sweating. You shook your head, trying to push away the uncomfortable memory. Why dwell on it? It was over, long over...

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flash in your neighbor's yard. A bright spot rising into the air, even though it wasn't even midnight yet. What kind of idiot sets off fireworks before the New Year? What was the point of that?

You straightened up, an irrational sense of danger taking hold of you. As if that fired projectile was about to crash through your window, causing an explosion in the room. Absurd, you knew that. But then the sound hit. A blast, almost like a gunshot. A gunshot coming from an unknown direction, fading lights around you, and screams. You took a breath as another shot rang out. Fireworks lit up the night sky, a green glow spilling into your bathroom, painting your face. You stayed frozen, breath held, with your chest tight.

You knew you should move, shake off the state that the experience had put you in, but… you couldn’t. Although physically unharmed, in your own home, fear took control, robbing you of your agency. Your heartbeat quickened to an unnatural pace, a sickly rhythm. It paralyzed your limbs, one by one, while images kept flashing before your eyes, intensifying with each approaching shot.

Since your actions and most of your awareness remained beyond your control, you soon realized that you were sitting on the floor. And, worst of all, a silhouette cast its shadow over you. You flinched, expecting to see a pair of leather boots and a gun pointed at you.

“It’s just me,” came a quiet, familiar voice, somehow cutting through the wall that separated you from the world. “Me, Spencer. Sorry I came in, but you didn’t respond when I knocked... okay, that doesn’t really matter right now.”

He sighed and crouched down right in front of you, his forehead furrowed in concern. Hesitantly, he reached for your shoulder, lightly touching it, but you flinched the moment his hand moved.

“No touching, it’s okay. I understand, I get it. I understand... what you’re going through.” He spoke quietly and calmly, but you could see a hint of panic crossing his face as he carefully observed yours, choosing his words. He swallowed hard. “You’re really scared, your hands are shaking, you can’t... you can’t breathe. It’s a panic attack, you know what that means. And... it’s temporary. The important thing is to just breathe. I know it’s hard... but just try…”

The surrounding air seemed thick, like some dense gas filling your nostrils and painfully entering your lungs. You shook your head in refusal, not wanting to do it again.

"Slowly, they don’t have to be deep breaths. Just try to make them steady, okay? Please," he continued, settling down closer to you on the floor. He was also breathing the way he described, trying to demonstrate for you. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, you made another attempt. It went... better.

"Exactly like that. We're at a party now, remember? At your house. We baked cakes specially for the occasion. It's New Year's Eve and people are shooting fireworks... those are fireworks, just regular fireworks..."

The green glow crept in again through the window, covering and retreating from your two huddled forms on the floor like a tide. You focused on what he was saying, alternately keeping your eyes tightly shut and wide open. You preferred them closed—it was easier to listen to him that way. But when you closed them, it felt like he was so far away. You reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch him, to make sure he was really there in front of you. And before you realized it, you fell into his embrace, your hands clutching his back in panic with every new shot outside.

You could close your eyes; his presence and scent were with you. You could close your eyes, pretend it wasn’t happening, that you weren’t there.

But it didn’t stop. Reid whispered that it was midnight, and the next round of fireworks shot into the sky, sending those trembling sounds that rattled you. A part of your mind knew why this was happening, so why did your body still react this way?

You buried yourself deeper into his arms, feeling some weight on the top of your head—he must have rested his chin there. You kept trying to breathe, and by accident, you inhaled the scent of his neck, which, surprisingly, helped. One breath after another. In and out. His skin. Another shot outside. In and out.

It must have been many minutes before it finally stopped. You both ended up leaning against the wall, side by side. Your knees were pulled to your chest, his legs stretched out. From downstairs, through the floor, came the muffled sound of music, and that’s what you focused on. On that, and on counting the tiles on the neighboring wall, on the hands of Reid’s watch moving forward. On the details, helping you ground yourself.

"How do you feel now?" he broke the silence that had lasted for several minutes with a quiet question.

You pressed the back of your head to the wall behind you, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Better," you said after a moment. The sound from your throat was raspy, and you swallowed, pausing for a second. "Isn't it... isn't it a strange twist of fate that we're always there for each other when something bad happens to the other person?"

You kept your gaze fixed ahead, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you. Slowly, he shrugged.

"Isn't that what friendship is about?" he asked.

Then, you shrugged.

"Friendship," you repeated, turning the word around on your tongue. You shook your head slightly. "I guess so. I mean, I guess that's what it's about." For a moment, you paused, lightly licking your lips. Your mind was still clouded, and you struggled to form coherent sentences. "I completely forgot what I was talking about a moment ago. What was it about again?"

Reid smiled gently at the look on your face, the expression confused but calm. And then... his hand slowly dropped to the top of your head, gently stroking it and sliding down along your cheek, where it stopped.

"Friendship," he repeated slowly.

Suddenly, as if realizing something, he turned his head slightly, as if to pull his hand away, but you stopped him. You grabbed it, and even though it had moved away from your face, your cheek, you enclosed it in a gentle grasp with both of your hands, the way a shell embraces a pearl.

You noticed the time on his watch.

"It’s already past midnight," you remarked. "Do you think everyone’s too drunk to look for us, or do they just honestly not care what we've been doing in the bathroom for the past hour?"

He chuckled at your words, amused by your suggestive tone.

"Don’t want to go back?" he asked, making sure.

You immediately shook your head.

"Not yet. I like it here. And I guess I’m not ready," you said, the last part tinged with a slight embarrassment. He nodded understandingly, signaling that it was okay. You didn’t have to leave yet.

You sighed, probably for the hundredth time.

"Honestly, I’ve completely lost my party mood. We could’ve played those board games instead. When I think about the bottles I’ll have to clean up tomorrow, I just feel like I might puke."

"We'll be here. Me. And Garcia," he reminded you. "You thought we were just going to disappear together, expecting you to clean up all this mess by yourself?"

"It's not really your responsibility," you replied with a slight shrug. However, a small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. "It would have been enough if you helped me set it all up. Even if it meant the entire kitchen glittering with sparkles before the party even started."

"New Year’s Eve decorations."

"Right," you scoffed. "That I’ll never get rid of. It will always look like a place where My Little Pony ponies had an alcoholic binge."

As you continued to stare at his hand, lying limp on your lap, and at his watch, you realized something else. A thought that made you tilt your head back with a sigh.

"I missed midnight again," you groaned suddenly. "Third year in a row. Where am I supposed to find three people to kiss next year, when I couldn't even find two this time?"

"You did manage," Reid pointed out, frowning slightly. "Penelope. And if you're counting your backup option, that would be me too."

"Would you?" you asked, surprised.

Pleasantly surprised. This subject had slipped by so quickly that you were sure his final answer would have been a no. You glanced fleetingly at his lips. They were slightly parted, probably in the same way they would have been if everything had gone according to plan. If you had found yourselves facing each other under the full, colorful-blinking night sky.

He nodded slightly in response, his upper and lower lips meeting. You tore your gaze away from them and refocused on the rest of his face.

"Sure," he replied aloud. He was close, the words escaping him with a slight breath of his air. "I mean... I'd also like to have a good year. So far, it’s started well. Anyway... yeah. I don't mind if you extend my backup option subscription for next year too."

The way he phrased it amused you. you lowered your gaze for a moment with a smile. Then you nodded, turning your head back toward him.

"So I guess I have my lineup for next New Year's," you said, letting go of his hand to start counting on your fingers. Both of you only realized then that you had been holding it at all. "First, of course, my husband..."

"Husband?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"I’m being very ambitious this year, Reid," you assured him, with mock seriousness. "Then Garcia, if she agrees again. But she probably will. Unless Derek gets in the way. Oh well, I’ll just send him to the tropics again. And then, number three, you."

"Your husband won’t mind if you kiss me?"

Something changed in his expression, and it was becoming harder for you to maintain eye contact. Your gaze kept dropping, as if it were searching for something against your will. Plus, the whole bathroom suddenly felt incredibly small, your movements slow, like in slow motion. You forced yourself to wave it off dismissively.

"He’ll understand," you said, forcing yourself to take a breath. You had forgotten again, but this time, it wasn’t panic. It was more about his face, so close to yours, the side of your head against the wall, your bodies nearly touching. "Well, he won’t have a choice. If he wants our marriage to last happily and forever, he’ll have to let me make up for all those lost years, those three missed kisses. Sorry... if I’m talking nonsense right now, just tell me, I don’t know what’s happening with me..."

When he kissed you, for a moment, you couldn’t find yourself. Even though everything had been leading to this, with your faces so close for the last twenty minutes, gazes repeatedly falling on each other's lips, it still surprised you. You sucked in a breath through your nose as his lips pressed into yours.

Only when his hand, the same one you had been playing with for so long, the one that had earlier caressed your cheek, fell back into the same place, carelessly resting and brushing the tips of his fingers against a small part of your ear, did you truly feel it. You squeezed your eyelids shut, placing your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you usually associated with New Year’s Eve, one you’d forget the next day or mention with a fleeting smile. Every thought of it was meant to bring overwhelming loneliness to your lips, to make you imagine it still lasting. It alternated between tasting you slowly and carefully and consuming you with the anticipation held captive between you.

You sighed softly against his lips, and he mirrored it when you briefly pulled away. Your breaths mingled, your faces still close, foreheads gently touching.

“I almost forgot,” you whispered, barely lifting your eyelids. “Happy New Year.”

He smiled, his lips brushing yours once more for a fleeting moment.

“May your wishes come true...or something like that.”

“Or something like that.” you whispered, completely distracted, before pulling him back to you again.

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling

[lanf1an]

SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister pt.3 - january 6 2025

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 wordcount: 1835

The sun had started to dip behind the mountains, and after a full day of skiing and snowboarding, the group stumbled onto the terrace après-ski bar. Lando and Magui had spent the day skiing together, while the rest of the group tackled the slopes together, most of the parents and Magui had headed back to the lodge, tired from travels.

At the bar, the mood was lively. Skiers and boarders still in their gear gathered around tables, their cheeks flushed from the cold and the day’s exertion. The air was thick with the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and classic après-ski tunes.

Max leaned over the table, a mischievous grin on his face. “Alright, new game. We spot the fans trying to make a move on Norris, and we try to casually block them.”

Cisca rolled her eyes but was already scanning the room. “I saw a girl at the bar earlier with a McLaren beanie. She’s been eyeing him for the last five minutes.”

Flo laughed, nudging you. “Your turn to play defense. You’re standing closest to him.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Lando, who was at the bar. You shook your head, smiling. “I think he’s oblivious.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Max said, clearly enjoying himself. “That’s the fun part. Let’s see who does it best.” - “Alright, up on the shoulders Flo'' Dylan suggested, she clapped her hands excitedly in response.

As they plotted their interference, Norris’s dad leaned in from the next table, his voice low. “Alright, kids, let’s not make a scene. We don’t want to attract too much attention to Lando.”

“Too late for that,” Max muttered under his breath, nodding towards the bar.

The group turned just in time to see Lando coming towards them, two enormous champagne bottles in hand, sparklers shooting from the tops like miniature fireworks. Heads turned instantly, the bar erupting in cheers and applause.

“Subtle,” You said, deadpan, as Lando made his way to their table, grinning like he’d just won a Grand Prix.

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he placed the bottles on the table with a flourish. “It’s après-ski! Live a little.”

You shook your head, unable to hide a smirk. “Of course. Mr. Center of Attention.” You could say fame didn't change him, he was always like this and fame had stopped him from being himself.

Lando leaned closer, a playful glint in his eye. “You love it.”

''You wish'' You huffed a laugh, still shaking your head. You gave him a warning look but you already knew what was coming.

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging, giving one of the bottles to Max and smashing the other on the floor, foam spraying out, trying to get some in everyone's mouths.

Max shook his head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible or iconic?” Lando retorted to his signature gran prix podium celebration, raising his glass in a toast. The music became louder and everyone started dancing. You stayed dancing close to him anyway, feeling protective even when he didn't seem to care and the game already being over. — Lando leaned against the bar, still holding one of the oversized champagne bottles, as Dylan and you stood beside him. Dylan had taught you some pro tricks today and had been ribbing you all day about your snowboarding skills —or according to him, lack thereof, which wasn't fair, compared to a pro—and you were finally getting him back.

“I don’t know, Dylan,” your said, swirling the remnants of your champagne. “The way you wiped out on that last run? I’m not sure you’re qualified to teach me anything.”

Dylan clutched his chest dramatically. “Excuse me, that wipeout was tactical. I was demonstrating what not to do.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. ''Bit dissapointing for a pro, don't you think?''

Lando watched them, a grin tugging at his lips. “You two bicker like an old married couple.”

Dylan smirked, putting his arm around your shoulder. “You should’ve joined us, Lando. Could’ve shown her how the pros snowboard.” he continued the bickering.

You laughed. “Please. He’d just show off the whole time, thinking he's actually better than me, than you even” you accidentally complimented Dylan.

“Correct,” Lando admitted with a shrug. “But at least it would’ve been impressive.” He set the champagne bottle down at the bar and crossed his arms, his gaze flicking between them. “Besides, I wouldn’t let her spend all day falling over. Unlike some people.”

“I wasn’t falling all day,” you protested, lightly punching his arm.

“No, just half the day,” Dylan said, earning himself a glare.

Lando grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Seriously, though. Tomorrow we'll go all together. I’ll teach you how to actually stay upright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re assuming I’d trust you with that responsibility.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he asked, feigning offense.

“Because you’d probably push me over for fun.”

“Ah yeah, true” he said, smirking.

Dylan shook his head, laughing. “You two are ridiculous.” He glanced between them. “Actually, kind of makes sense.”

“What does that mean?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He shrugged, a sly grin on his face. “Nothing. Just saying, you two act more like an old married couple for way longer than we do.”

Lando barked out a laugh, but you could feel your cheeks flush, even though Dylan didn't seem to care one bit, the chill attitude and easy-going confidence you fell in love with and admired so much. “Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Too late,” Dylan grinned, knowing you weren't as careless and relaxed as him.

You turned back to Lando, hands in the air. “You’re not helping, you know.”

“What?” he asked, all innocence, though his smile said otherwise. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly,” you muttered, though you couldn’t hide a smile as he poured you another glass of champagne as you walked off, back towards the others.

''You know what I'm going to say right?'' Lando turned to Dylan, suddenly serious. Dylan laughed ''I'm surprised you hadn't yet, Max told me she has not one, but two protective brothers, twins nonetheless'' Dylan tried to joke. Lando didn't laugh.

''I'm not going to hurt her''.

— january 3 2017

The night was getting quiet after having drinks, muffled laughter of the others still lingering at the table. She sat slumped on the couch in the corner, her legs stretched out, ski boots still tightly strapped. The wine she’d been nursing had her feeling warm and a little bold, but exhaustion weighed heavy on her limbs.

Lando appeared in the doorway, his cheeks flushed from the cold and a little from all the beer they’d had earlier. His hair was a tousled mess, sticking out in all directions from where he’d rubbed at it with his gloved hands earlier that day.

“You alright there?” he asked, his voice soft, tinged with amusement as he stepped into the room.

She groaned, leaning her head back against the couch. “No. I’m stuck. These stupid boots won’t come off, and I’m too tired to fight with them.”

Lando chuckled and walked over, crouching down in front of her. “Let me help. Lift your leg.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “What are you, my knight in shining armor now?”

“Obviously,” he rolled, grabbing her foot before she could protest. His fingers worked at the straps, the tips brushing against her calf as he loosened the bindings. Her breath hitched involuntarily, but she quickly covered it with a laugh.

“Ticklish?” Lando teased, glancing up at her with a knowing grin.

“No,” she lied, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was.

He didn’t push further, focusing instead on freeing her foot from the boot. When he managed to tug it off, she sighed dramatically in relief, wriggling her toes. “Freedom,” she declared.

“One more to go,” Lando said, reaching for her other foot. His hands wrapped firmly around her ankle, steadying it as he worked. This time, the touch lingered—not inappropriately, but enough to send a tingle up her spine. She looked down at him, at the way his brow furrowed in concentration.

When the second boot finally came off, Lando sat back on his heels, letting out an exaggerated sigh of triumph. “And that, my lady, is how you—”

“Shut up,” she interrupted, laughing, and lightly kicking his shoulder with her freed foot. But her laughter faded when their eyes met.

“Lan…” she started, her voice low, but she didn’t know what she wanted to say.

“You’ve got…” he murmured, leaning in slightly and brushing his thumb just below her lip, where a speck of wine had stained her skin. The contact made her pulse race.

Before she could second-guess it, her hand reached for his cheek, and suddenly, his lips were on hers. The kiss was tentative at first, like both of them were testing the waters, but it quickly deepened. His hands cupped her face, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She responded in kind, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.

It was familiar and foreign at the same time. But just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

Lando pulled back, his breathing uneven, his gaze searching hers. “I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay,” she said, though her voice trembled. She wasn’t sure if she meant it.

“No, I mean…” He ran a hand through his hair, looking troubled. “We’re drunk. And we… we can’t.”

She nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

They didn’t talk about it again after that night, both silently agreeing to bury it under layers of banter and shared history.

—

Back at the lodge you were tugging fruitlessly at the straps of your ski boots, weak in the hands after the amount of champagne this afternoon. “These things are impossible.” you huffed,

Lando appeared out of nowhere, grinning. “Need a hand, princess?”

You rolled your eyes heavily. “Don’t ever call me that again. And yes, apparently, I do.”

He crouched down in front of you. ''Lift your leg'' his hands worked expertly at the straps, fingers brushing against her leg. You suddenly remembered a moment you had forgotten a few years ago, your breath hitching at the thought, you quickly looked away, focusing on the snow outside the window.

“There,” Lando said, pulling the boot off swiftly. “I’m getting good at this.”

“Not exactly a competitive skill” you said, narrowing you eyes, ''Don't underestimate the importance of dexterity'' he said, showing off his hands, wiggling his fingers.

"Thanks"

“No problem,” he replied, standing up and offering you a hand.

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward the others who were already heading inside. “Let’s get warm.

tl: @ash88-yep @lewishamiltonismybf @harrysdimple05

[lacyssturns]

GUILTY AS SIN ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

synopsis: reader has always fantasized about being fucked by matt, but can this twist make her fantasies come true?

pairing: f!reader and bsf! matthew sturniolo

warnings : smut, female masterbation, getting caught, matt the munch, big dick matt, soft dom! matt, really bad (im sorry this is my 2nd time writing smut), not proof-read!!!

“we've already done it in my head”

i laid in matt’s bed, staring at the ceiling. i’ve been sexually frustrated for days, and nothing has been working out for me. 

matt said he was going out really quick to buy stuff for our sleepover tonight so i had the house to myself due to his brothers being out with friends.

i feel my teeth take the inner part of my cheek, teething at it over and over. i know i shouldn’t do this but it’s just going to be quick, right?

my hand starts to run down my smooth body, touching each part of my body. once it reaches the top part of my shorts, someone’s face comes in my mind. matt.

suddenly it feels as if matt is the one touching my body. my hand slowly removes my underwear and shorts down to my ankles, leaving my bottom half completely bare on my own best friends bed.

my hands reach my wet pussy, slightly grazing over it. i begin to slightly rub myself slowly, thinking it’s matt doing it to me.

as time quickly pass, i start to insert my ring and middle finger into myself. the feeling of sensitivity runs through my body, the reaction coming right out, “mmm, matt please” i whispered to myself.

pretending my own small fingers are matts, the idea of him pushing his long ones into me, the idea of his face next to mine, the idea of him praising me.

the more my thoughts wander, the faster i start to move my fingers. moaning out for my best friend whos not even here with me.

“matt! oh my god please matt..” i let out louder. i feel a knot start to tighten instead of my stomach, begging to be let undone.

the second i feel myself start to cum to the idea of matts face, i hear the door open and a soft gasp.

my eyes shoot open to the door.

there stands matt staring at me, a soft rosy blush painted across his face. i reach down to my underwear and shorts bunched to the bottom of my feet, quickly pulling it up in embarrassment.

“im so sorry matt, this is so uhm…i think i should go.” i stutter not wanting to look at him. as i try to get up to leave, matt steps closer to me. he connects his soft lips against mine.

before kissing back i was in shock…why would he kiss me after this?

our lips move together in rhythm, finding the need to keep ahold of each other. matt pushes my back against the bed, lips still moving with mine.

he pulls back from me, moving his head down to my neck. “fuck, you looked so hot touching yourself on my bed baby.” he whispered to me, leaving wet kisses down my body.

matt grabs the hem of my shirt, looking at me to make sure i want this. i gave him a nod as he teared off the small t-shirt.

his lips find the valley of my breasts, he stares in my eyes while moving down my body, “im so glad i found you like that you don’t understand” he tells me.

pulling off my shorts and underwear at the same time, his face looking hungry for me. matt pushes my legs away from him, eyes stuck on my wet pussy. he began to kiss my inner thighs.

taking his sweet time makes me even more frustrated, “please i need you so bad matt…” i whine, “so needy my love..” his hot breath hits me where i need him the most.

i feel matt lick up my arousal, “oh my gosh..” i let out, finally getting what i’ve needed forever, “feels so good…”

matt chuckles, lips still touching my sensitive part. his licks turn into sucking, my breathing pacing from the amazing feeling. it felt as if there were fireworks setting off in my tummy.

his two fingers reach me, rubbing circles on my wetness. my moans get louder, “faster…please..faster..” eyes rolling back from the feeling of his fingers inserting me.

“you like that baby?” matt asks, “fuck yes” he laughs once again, “was this what you were imagining?” his fingers move faster, “me fingering you, eating your delicious pussy? huh?” matt teases, knowing i can’t answer in the current state im in.

yet he keeps going, “have you done this before?” no answer comes from me, all i can focus on is his fingers. “answer me.”

i moan again, “im…what did you say?” i ask, his voice drowns out as he keeps pleasuring me. “have you touched yourself to the idea of me before.”

i pout and blush in embarrassment, “yes…” i whisper. “don’t get shy with me gorgeous, it’s okay..” matt reassures, giving me a sweet kiss, fingers still moving in and out of me.

his mouth moved to my right breast, sucking and biting at my nipples, making me hiss out in slight pain but yet pleasure. his fingers some how speed up, “i need to cum matt!” i yell so loud the whole neighborhood can probably hear me. “do what you need, let it all out for me.”

after he says this i come undone, right onto his fingers. my chest rising up and down very quickly. matt removes his fingers from me, them being coated in my juices.

he raises the wet fingers to my lips, “open.” i obey. allowing him to shove his fingers in my mouth, sucking my own cum from him.

matt removes his fingers from my mouth, it making a pop noise from the quick movement.

he moves away from me as he takes off his shirt, then moves to his baggy blue jeans taking them off as if he was in a rush.

now matt sits infront of me with just boxers on. i sit up, taking the top of it, just like he did to me, slowly pulling them down and staring in his eyes. once i get his black boxers off, his dick springs out, slightly hiting his bare stomach.

i lay back on my back, so ready for what’s coming next. matt puts his lips on mine, kissing me, pushing me deeper into the pillow. as our lips move together, matt alines himself with my slit. suddenly pushing himself in.

i moan against his lips, “so big…so big..” i repeat, eyes glued shut. “that’s only half of it baby.”

matt starts to push himself all the way in, feeling so full by his dick. “please matt.” i beg not even knowing what im asking for. my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him so close to me.

he pushes his girthy length in and out of me, my jaw dropping and eyes rolling back. the feeling of him moving so swiftly in my wet walls.

“that’s it, taking me so well.” he whispers in my ear, keeping close to me. my head leans back, moans coming straight out of me like music to matt’s ears. it feels as my climax is quickly coming, being so fucked out by matt.

as if he knew what i was thinking he speaks out, “i know your close baby, just wait for me okay…a little longer.” hot, wet tears roll down my face. trying my best to hold it all in.

matt picks up his pace, “fuck, cmon baby cum on my dick you got it.” he grunts against me as i shut my eyes, seeing stars and legs starting to shake when he just keeps going.

i feel him shoot his load straight into me the same time i come undone onto him. matt stays in me, both of us breathing heavily and speechless.

“you did so good babe.” matt praises, kissing me passionately with a slight smile on his face.

⋆˚࿔ the end 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

@mattsdolll @memea32221 @chris-slut @444alexis

[bright-molina]

the equation of you - prologue

☆ Tyler Owens x reader ☆ Twisters SMAU!! ☆ synopsis: You've known Kate Carter for years and never once has she introduced you to a single friend, always claiming you were the only one she needed. That all changes when one day she declares she wants you to meet the infamous Tornado Wrangler himself, perfectly unaware you know very well who he is already. ☆ Warnings: none for now ☆ A/N: guess who's once again back with yet another social media au... this time in hybrid format because i love them all too much to not dive into this world. please enjoy because i'm having a BLAST with this so far and i have truly SO much planned

The dominoes cascaded in a line...

“And with that I think that’s all we got this time. Tune in next time to find out the answer to that burnin’ question I know you all have - is it or is it not possible to shoot fireworks up into a movin’ tornado? Remember, if you feel it -”

The video playing on the screen of your phone cuts to black after one last wink to the camera and it makes your eyes roll. It is, however, paired with a smile. The little buzz you feel deep inside cuts through the already fading headache as you take another bite of your lunch and a deep sigh leaves you. 

But the conversations going on all around you echoes against the walls of the room you’re sitting in and a pang of loneliness shoots through you instead.

It’d been easier to get things done with Kate sitting in the cubicle next to yours. The feeling is followed by a shot of baseless worry when you send her another message and it remains unread. 

So maybe you had gotten a little more anxious after she came back from her trip home. She’d all but burst into your office with a wild and scared and excited look in her eyes when she told you she was heading back out into the field. You’d helped her pack and made her promise to stay safe and tried to push away the uneasiness you felt knowing she’d be out there in the middle of a storm.

One check in with her quickly turned into several. Every twelve hours on the dot you were sending her a picture of you sitting at home or at work and Kate indulged you by responding with pictures of her wherever she happened to be. Beside a shiny white Storm Par truck. The inside of a dingy motel room. A field surrounded by dark gray skies. Back home in her childhood room. 

And then, eventually, a hospital bed. You’d called her seconds after receiving that one with anxious tears in your eyes and she answered with no hesitation. The stories she told you over the phone of her last few days back in Oklahoma had your blood pressure skyrocketing and your heart constricting inside you. 

You knew what these storms were like. You’d grown up in a place similar to the one Kate grew up in. You’d watched them on screens and seen the devastation and learned about them all you could. But this was different. This one was huge. It was bad. And on top of that, your best friend had thrown herself into the middle of it and made a discovery that could change everything. Because of course she would. 

Kate had come home with bruises and cuts already almost completely healed but it didn’t stop you from clinging to her for a few days. She was kind enough to never mention a word of it. To never point out the fear that she knew still plagued you a little bit. But she always reassured you she was okay and that was enough. 

She was better than okay, you figured, considering she’d immediately started telling you about the nicer parts of her trip. Like seeing her mom again and catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. 

Including these, apparently. Ones you didn’t yet know the names of. Ones who were coming into town. Ones that, by the look of it, she wanted you to meet. And go out with. With her. And it made all the anxiety fade away because she really was okay. She was healing a little more. It made you smile. 

The timer you’d set went off and you knew that the comfort of your apartment was within reach now. As soon as you wrangled your tour groups, treated them to some delightfully dramatized demonstrations, and sat them in their seats for the space show you were home free. 

Except Kate had several hours left until she got off work. And she had something to explain to you. And you were almost positive the curiosity would kill you before then.

“Okay, so,” Kate settles a little deeper into the couch and turns to face you while the credits of the movie you’d been watching while finally eating dinner played on the screen. “I think you’ll really like them.” 

“Oh I absolutely trust your judgment,” You turn to face her too and you can see her excitement ready to bubble over. “Tell me about them.” 

It doesn’t take much prompting other than that and a smile flashes on Kate’s face. “Well, I met them back home. They’re this big group of storm chasers, too, and the five of them are actually the ones who helped me adapt the formula and research I'd been working on and were gonna help test it in the field but you know how that ended.”

“Wait hang on -”

“They’re okay,” Kate knows what question you’re about to ask before you even have a chance to ask it. You’d always been an empathetic person from the moment she’d met you. You’d noticed the little things about her and listened when she finally opened up to you and never for a moment let her feel alone. If there was one constant in her life here it was you. “A little banged up but alright for the most part.”

Your brows furrow and you give her a look that feels much too serious for you when you ask, “What does ‘for the most part’ mean?” 

“Well there might’ve been a minor injury or two but it’s okay!”

“Kate, I swear -”

“Logically speaking, if the injuries were more than minor they wouldn’t be coming to New York City of all places.”

“I guess you have a point.” You sigh, defeated, knowing very well she has a good point and Kate takes it as a win. “So are they here for you or for some fun?” 

“Very funny,” Kate gives you a deadpanned look but another grin breaks across her face soon after. You watch as she reaches for her phone and the blanket around her shoulders slips down a little bit. She starts scrolling as she talks to you. “They’re doing an interview on some talk show, I can’t remember the name of it. That’s what they're here for technically but I convinced them to stay a couple days longer. Figured it’d give me a chance to introduce them to you that way.”

“Wait an interview?” You stare at her again and try to recall every single little detail she’s told you about her trip all at once. A frown appears on your face when you can’t immediately figure it out. “Who exactly are you friends with?”

Kate flips her phone towards you and on the screen is a picture of five people. “They call themselves Tornado Wranglers.”

You don’t say a single word. The only thing you do is stare and you must look shocked or confused or completely dumbfounded because Kate continues quickly. 

“It's a weird name, I know. I still can’t figure out what it means exactly but I promise you’ll think they’re really cool too!” 

Kate is saying words, you know that. You know she’s speaking but you don’t hear her, not while your mind is spinning like one of those storms she loves chasing so much. She tells you their names, that much you process. Dani. Dexter. Boone. Lily. Tyler. 

“They, uh,” You force the words out of your mouth after she’s given you a brief explanation of what they each do. “They definitely sound like Tornado Wranglers”

“They’re supposed to get in tomorrow.” Kate drops her phone and her eyes narrow as she takes in the look on your face. Your eagerness has faded away and has been replaced with something else. Something she can’t quite pinpoint. “It’s okay if you don’t want to meet them! I know you’ve been busy with work lately and it is kinda last minute. We don’t have to -”

“Kate,” You launch yourself forward far enough to take her hand that wasn’t holding her phone. The look is shaken off your face quickly and just like that the excitement is back. She relaxes a little bit at the sight of it. “I’d be happy to meet your friends.”

Kate hears the unspoken words between you. The way you’re reminding her of how much love and care you have for her. Of the way you’re right there, no matter what. It puts her at ease the way it has so many times before. 

“Tell me when and I’m there.”

Kate was definitely gonna kill you for this one.

[stickyyyv4mp]

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮

The 4th of July !

⚠️ warning !: fluff, smut, sex in a car, unprotected. Oral (fem receiving ) !definitely not proof read!

It was late a night around 12:35. Fireworks and gunshots where going on outside celebrating the 4th day of July. you was laying down chilling till felt ony get out the bed. “where you goin’?” you asked while still laying down eyes closed. “I’m gonna go shoot some fireworks!” You sighed and didn’t say nothing after that. “You not mad is you?” He asked before taking his gun out the drawer. “Nahh. But you best not be out there being crazy ya’ hear me?” You lifted up turnt back point you’re finger at him like you were scolding him. “Mama I promise I won’t!” “Okay ony..” you said slunching back into bed.

About half an hour later ony was shooting hella fireworks and shot his gun Atleast twice. There was a bunch of fireworks popping outside from many different yards, it was beautiful, they were pushing it, it was barely even the 4th it was still 12 something. You decided to get out of bed and go on the bedroom balcony wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of ony’s psd boxers. and your blonde lace in a clawclip style, watching him blow some small fireworks moving on to the bigger ones till he noticed you. “Mama? you not cold wearing them little ass clothes?” “Tuh.. baby I’ll be ohk” “nah mama I’m just saying you wearing that lil shi outside so..” “boy worry bout them damn fireworks.” He laughed “okay okay..” “mhm. Just make sure we still got some for the actual day.” You said rolling you eyes with arms leaning on the bars of the balcony looking down at him “alright I gotchu ima just blow a few more,” y’all stayed in silence a bit watching as the fireworks popped and crackled. “Baby I can’t wait to see you in your little outfit tomorrow.” He said bluntly but you could hear the smile through his words. “Baby who says I’m going anyways?” “Oh come on baby you been talking bout showing off that little outfit since you got it.” “Baby, it’s just that it’s most of your friends not mine.” He chuckled and took his hold on the fireworks and turned around to face you. “Baby…” ony looked at her with a sad look “onyankopon. You not bouta quilt trip me with that look…”

The next day your at the pool party. Yes he did “convince” you. You were wearing you cute little pink swimsuit with a pink skirt as a cover up. “He was talking to his friends all day basically ignoring you. But you wasn’t Gon let the slide so you made a couple friends, but the dj started playing TGIF by Glorilla.

Which happens to be one of your favorites but since ony was always around you always had to listen in silence, but since he wasn’t here…

“It’s 7pm Friday it 95 degrees I ain’t got no nigga and ain’t no nigga ain’t got me! I’m bouta show my-” you felt somebody familiar behind you. It was no other than ony in his black swim trunks “what the fuck don’t you got? And what you finna show?” “Hi baby!” You said with a nervous smile “nuh uh don’t “hi baby” me. I should fuck yo lil ass up.” “Well baby you can’t really be mad! You left me by myself and-“

“F-fuckkk onyyy” he held your hands be behind your back while your face down ass up in the back seat of his sexccc ass, matte black Camaro he groaned with his head down watching your ass recoil…

A hour and a half went by and y’all came back to the party and chilled, this time you stayed by his side whole time. so you don’t do no more stupid shit.

After the party everyone was sent to a huge field and a whole bunch of fireworks starting going off, including ony’s. They’re where so pretty and bright, you sat on your knees a couple feet behind ony. He lit a fire work then backed up watching all the little flames burst into colors. after a couple rounds of fireworks everyone was down and went home..

You took a shower changed in to a loose crop top and shorts with no underwear / bra and got into bed putting your phone on charge and grabbing your iPad waiting for ony to come to bed. He walked in wearing some shorts and slide his body onto the bed, he kissed you cheek and went down to your neck and gave a couple kisses there, then he held your waist and you gave him a couple kisses. Then y’all feel asleep cuddled up together and your show still playing on your iPad..

.

So y’all wanna know how he convinced y’all to go..?

.

.

“Fuck onyyyy~~!” You said tugging on his hair while he goes down on your pussy “cmon baby I know you love it..” he mumble against your folds and looking up at you innocently like he wasn’t eating the soul out of you. “Onyyyy puhleaseee” you said throwing you head back almost falling of the edge of the bed. He slid a finger in your gaping hole, then 2.. then 3.. “baby are you gonna go..?” He said licking faster and pushing his fingers in and out of you faster and hard. “I’ll goo..! I’m goingtothepartyYYy~!” You said moving on his fingers with clit grazing his nose. “Good job mama..” He said with a smile lifting his mouth from you then slowly sliding his long monster machine inside…

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Hiii babes! Look I finally posted! Yauppp I did my big one! I posted !! (I’m too proud..).. anyways I hoped y’all liked this! 💗 I’ll be posting more soon!

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[boofeine]

New Year's Kiss

pairing: seventeen x reader

genre: headcanons, suggestive

warnings: mdni, kissing, nothing much... it's kinda fluff

a/n: happy new year!!! wishing a wonderful 2025 ahead for you, and i hope all of your resolutions come to reality <3

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @kooqitas @unlikelysublimekryptonite @kwannibalism

seungcheol runs to a taxi with your hands together, trying to hide from the sudden hard snow. you both sit breathless in the back seat, the air cold and funny as you both giggle around. the tip of your nose pinky that seungcheol finds cute and your plumpy lips way too tempting. "you look so cute" he suddenly bursts out, his palms hugged on gloves cagging your cheeks on an attempt to arm your face; but it just affects your stomach instead, the little butterflies as he stares your eyes and then your mouth. "can i kiss you?" he asks. your mouths connecting with the muffled cheers from outside telling you it's a new year ahead.

jeonghan has been flirting with you shamelessly for hours now. you know, you know this, you watch this happen with your group of friends a lot, you were just never the chosen one. he keeps teasing you, saying absurds and laughing later, you're actually getting frustrated... that's until you know it's a real thing. "thought new years would be a good place to start" he says when the clock is approaching midnight. you ask confused what he means, and he simply adds, "i really like you, would you let me kiss you?" and when the kiss is said and done, jeonghan stares into your eyes and asks you out.

joshua is sweet like the gentleman he is. he hugs you softly, wishing you a happy new year, his smile making his bambi eyes tiny, making it hard not to feel a little in love. he stays in your embrace, a kiss to the top of your head "happy new year, yn-ie" he says, and you reply with your cheeks aching from so much happiness. he breaks the silence after a few minutes "can i make a wish for this year?" he says and you nod on his chest "i hope i get a kiss from you" he concludes. you swallow dry, finally looking up at him "you have to wish something else" you were a little mean, you think, because his whole face twists but you're fast to add "because this one is already coming true" you say coming closer as your lips finally fits together with a air of relief.

jun sees you laying on the door frame by yourself. people are starting to run around, screaming it's close to midnight. you stay there watching the commotion with a vision of the outside, that you don't even realize jun joining you. his low tone catching your attention when he starts to count down as everyone does. you look up smiling to him as he does the same for you, his sight moving up and then back to your face. as you follow his eyes, you can see the mistletoe just above you two on the frame, you can feel your face flushing when he shoots "i guess you own me a kiss" his steps coming closer, the fireworks exploding outside, not even close to your heartbeat as your lips touches his.

soonyoung pulls you up on his arms with a tight hug while the fireworks explode around you. you both smile happily as he twirls you around on his arms, greeting you the new year with warmth and so much happiness. everything happens too fast, your kiss on his cheeks getting on the side of his lips before he drops you down, and everything stops around you, the pinning stare as you both lean to a real kiss this time around.

wonwoo just bumps on you in the middle of the party chaos. that being the first time you two make yourselves known on the place. you stop, greating each other warmly, completely forgetting new year is soon and you both should probably go find your friends and family before midnight. you just keep chatting and updating each other of how your lives are going, the kiss happening so suddenly and naturally. the fireworks startling you both as you just giggles on each others mouths, accepting the new start.

jihoon hates to make you sad, and he knows that chosing to stay alone at home on new years is one way to do it. he stares at the snow going down his window, reminiscing the call that happened just a few minutes ago, with you, and how he wanted to say he was sorry. the bell suddenly rings, and jihoon comes to open the door, with your figure right in front of his eyes, wet hair from the rain as you embrace him in a big hug. "i wouldn't spend new years with anyone else" you say, your lips coming together with his and passion as the clock hits midnight.

seokmin was wanting this for a while now but never was able to gather enough courage. and when he finally does, it's not in the greatest scenario, but he wouldn't lose that one last hope. the loude music and chatting echoes in the room as you both dance beside each other. he suddenly comes closer "can i kiss you when the new year turn" he shouts, and you wonder if you heard it wrong around all that noise. the sudden confection making you flush. your head screams YES!! but you're unable to word it out. but when midnight comes, he will know your answer with your lips pressed on his own.

mingyu is just as clumsy as you. your ways of greeting each other happy new year all over the place. you laugh together when you almost bump heads before the hug fit. the smiles dying down when your heads move to the side together, both with the same idea of landing a sweet cheek kiss that turns into a peck when you reach each other's lips instead. your eyes go big, and your body stiffs, but none of you pull out as you relax on his embrace and just kiss.

minghao is one of those people that you meet without warning, he's a friend of a friend of yours that came along for the year turn. it's been a few hours of conversation, but you're sure he'll be someone to keep for the next year. you can already tell honesty is his cup of tea, and he proves you right when he openly tells you how beautiful and easy to talk you are. "that's been actually the best conversation i've had in ages" he concludes and you want to die in shyness, you feel little butterflies in your stomach and the way his perfect shaped lips move when he's talking makes you want to try it. you go silent and he askes... as he is, you answer honestly "i was just wondering how your lips might taste", "you can try it out" he says and your lips meets more times than the whole year throughout this night, making it not different on midnight.

seungkwan promises to take you home after the new years party you both were. it's just on the door of your apartment that he makes out with you in the back of his car. it comes at a surprise how into it you are and how his hands hug you perfectly as he kisses you. the hot air around you both blurrying the windows as you just see the smug flashing lights from the fireworks that announce you it's a new year. "Happy new years, yn-ie" he says, caressing your cheeks as if you haven't kissed as you were hungry for it minutes before. — (edited from ripe clementines :D)

vernon had joked about it, how "funny" it would be if you get too tipsy on new years and ended up kissing each other. you laugh it out but he looked a bit too serious to be kidding. new years came and none of you were nearly drunk. just chatting and gaming until midnight. when it's close, vernon comes to you "turns out we are not tipsy nor kissing" he plays and you think 'what a shame', either way it's not from neither of your personalities ending up on this scenario. you decide to be bold and reply "is being drunk a requirement?", "to kiss me?" he asks, cleaning nonexistent dust from the tip of his nose while you just hum, looking up at him. "you can kiss me if that's what you asking" he's smiling but you're serious, coming to peck his lips before giving a real kiss that is very much welcomed. as the last seconds of the day ends, another year being gone, you think 'what a happy new year'.

chan spends new years with you every year since you were teens. he's someone you know from a family friend with yours, you both kinda grew with each other in small gatherings like this. night felt particularly different this time around, he grew a lot and suddenly talks and acts like a man, but jokes like a kid as always, has you laughing from literally anything he says. for chan, he knows his ways, he has a eye on you since forever and he finally sees a chance that he wouldn't waste. gathering all the courage to ask you out, he's surprisingly met with your lips on his. you just kiss and say nothing as he melts, feeling like he's in a dream... he will take it as a yes. maybe that's the magic of a new year.

[anonsturniolo]

stalker!chris x fem!reader headcannons ✧₊⁺

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who confidently strode into your life, pretending he was always there. He managed to bump into you in your favorite book store, rattling off all of his ‘favorite’ books, that just happened to be yours too.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who broke into your house once you left for work on a random night, admiring all of your things, going through your clothes. He may have let his possessiveness get the better of him, taking a couple of exposing shirts from your closet to dispose of.

“Hey, have you seen my one black shirt? It had rhinestones on it, pretty low cut.” You asked your best friend on FaceTime, your closet strewn across your room in search of your favorite top.

Your friend hums for a second, “No I haven’t, I asked to borrow it last week and you never got back to me about it.” She replies, making you frown.

Where the hell did it go?

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who wiggles his way into all of your plans, claiming he just wants to see you. You’re flattered by this of course, but you kinda start to get a weird vibe when he tries to go to church with you and your grandparents, over an hour away from home.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who doesn’t let you see him when you’re at a club. He’s intently watching you from across the room, his eyes filling with jealousy every time you look at another man.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who has a list on his phone of all the boys you had ever dated, or fucked, to his best knowledge. He went down a rabbit hole at 2 am one night, and came out at 7 am with everything he needed to know about your past lovers.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who begs you to come over all the time. He doesn’t care if it comes off as desperate, he just wants to spend time with you, while you know he’s there.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who follows you home when you decide to walk the 45 minutes instead of getting a ride with your coworker like you usually do. He needs to make sure no one else mistakes you as theirs, you’re his.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who finally gets to kiss you on New Years.

“Fucking finally.” Chris mutters to himself, pressing his lips against yours. Fireworks shoot from outside, making the first kiss all the more impressionable.

His hands lift to your cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer. You get lost in the feeling, completely forgetting you’re in the middle of Tara’s living room. You lift your own hands to grab onto Chris’ hair, leaving him a moaning mess.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who pushes you to get close with his brothers, strategically planning sleepovers with Nick and random lunches with Matt.

ᡣ𐭩 stalker!chris who’s sweeter than sugar to you, knowing you truly want a man that treats you like a princess.

“Hm? You wanna go?” Chris asks while staring at you fondly, gently rubbing your cheek. You had shown up to his place when you realized you were being stood up on a date.

You had been talking to the guy for about 2 months, and finally your schedules aligned. You waited about 30 minutes before the tears built up, immediately ubering to Chris.

“I know some ice cream will make my pretty girl feel better.” He softly whispers into your ear, bringing you into his chest gently. His lips place a delicate kiss to the crown of your head, before a sly smirk makes it way into his face.

That guy will never talk to you again.

[yukioos]

MIS

SUMMARY: jayce talis x reader // your mother takes the brunt of the attack from jinx, causing your mother to pass from the wounds. her death leaves you grieving. once all your pain builds up and the pressure becomes too much to handle, you find yourself face-to-face with a panic attack. your boyfriend, jayce, stays with you throughout all your troubles and comforts you when you need him the most.

AUTHORS NOTE: hi! i hope you guys enjoy this oneshot, i felt in the mood to write some angst and comfort :) thanks for the request, sorry if you wanted me to write something more happy and fluffy. i haven’t had a panic attack so i don’t fully know what it’s like to have one, but i tried my best! this is 2.4k words

WARNINGS: not proofread, panic attack, death, grief, guilt, cussing, pet names

ASK: gurll i love this, for the next one can u please make it the other way around (jayce comforting reader) 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 i need jayce huggie toooo!!

the sky was dark, and the moon was an unusually deep shade of red. the bland sky didn’t stand out to you, opposite to how it would be filled with stars any other day. hot air filled your room, causing you to tug and pull at your tightly fitted clothes. you threw old clothes onto the ground, planning to give them to the undercity, where they lacked what you perceived as normal. you giggled at the thought of your younger sister, caitlyn, who thought she was sneaky bringing in a woman from zaun into her room, claiming she was only hurt.

your mother didn’t know about this, however. she didn’t have enough time in her schedule to know about caitlyn’s relationships, only you and jayce’s, as word spread quickly. you were pleased to know that she accepted the relationship once she sat the two of you down and asked about jayce’s intentions with you. she just wanted you to have a good partner, someone who could live up to the kiramman expectations and life. knowing jayce ever since he was young, she immediately knew you were a perfect match.

when you were young, she wasn’t as busy being a councilor as she is now. you used to tell caitlyn about how mom used to be fun, and she would always laugh at the stories in disbelief. sometimes, she would flat-out tell you you were lying, like when your mom had enough time to teach you how to shoot targets. as she became older, her time with you became shorter and shorter, and caitlyn hardly knew her mother.

but even as you were scavenging through your dresser and walk-in closet, a sinking feeling weighed you down. something was off, something felt wrong, unusual. you rubbed your eyes, hoping you were just imagining when you saw a bright blue light shine through the sky like a shooting star. the sound of it flying through the air reminded you of fireworks before they explode. you tilted your head in curiosity. you had never seen a shooting star before—

suddenly, a loud sound erupted in your ears, causing you to duck and cover your head. you panted, whimpering as you had no idea what had just happened. you slowly raised your head from the ground, glancing around your room to see if any damage had been done. when you stood back on your feet, you glanced outside the window to see a huge hole in the administrative building where meetings were held.

fuck, that’s where jayce and mom were.

your eyes widened in terror as you immediately pushed your double doors open and down a flight of stairs. alarms began to alert the city of piltover, and screams and crying from citizens made your blood run cold. your legs ached from running, panting as your lungs burned with pain, unable to catch a breath. once you ran to the top floor of the administrative building, you slammed open the partially broken doors.

heart racing, you paused in your tracks once jayce carried viktor in his arms, with tears filling his eyes. your heart raced, and your throat tightened, you managed to ask, “where is my mother? mom? mom—“ as you walked around, searching for bodies covered in rubble, dark blue hair and short pink hair caught your eye.

you were about to walk over to them, but you staggered as smoke filled your throat, causing you to cough. before you could pause, a large, warm, and familiar hand laid on your shoulder. there, your boyfriend stood with ash on his face, and an almost dead man in his arms, his best friend. he cupped your face with one hand and stared at you, “hey— hey, we’re both alright, that’s— that’s good—”he tried to lighten the mood by chuckling. he then continued, even as his fake smile didn’t reach his eyes, “i need to help viktor—“

you interrupted, “jay, it’s okay, go, i think i see my mother—” you gazed into his glossy eyes, his lip trembled with fear.

you placed your shaky hand on his cheek and gave him a quick kiss. as you gently patted his cheek, he mumbled, “promise you’ll stay safe for me.” while looking into your equally terrified eyes.

you responded, “i will.” and with that, he ran to the science lab to supposedly heal viktor. you then ran over to the dark blue hair, assuming it was your sister. she turned around and hugged you without uttering a word. you gripped her back just as tightly, and the pink-haired zaunite stared at your mother with sorrow. her face was covered in ashes, and bricks left bruises and blood-stained clothes. you pressed your finger up to the side of her neck. once you felt nothing, you checked her wrist.

she didn’t have a pulse.

your breathing sped up, but your world slowed down as if it paused. your body felt numb, and your hearing drained from your ears. a hand squeezed your shoulder, the hand of your sister, trying to shake you back into reality. shutting your eyes for a moment, you tried to imagine anything but her lifeless body in front of you. the woman who lived her life saving and protecting others, the one who watched you grow up, the one who carried you for nine months, was now dead.

it seemed unreal to think about.

but you opened your eyes and imagined it was someone else in front of you, someone with less of an impact on your life. you slowly stood up and stared at your mother’s closed eyes and scarred face. you then turned your back on her and brought your eyes up to the two women in front of you. you mumbled, “we need a medic.”

the next few months after your mother’s death were a living hell. although it was sweet to see children placing flowers near your mother’s grave, honoring her dedication to the city, you hadn’t been in a healthy mental state. normally, things came easy to you. however, for the past few months, all you had heard from others were condolences for the death of your mother. you tried to act as if you weren’t bothered by it at all, and to continue your everyday life. that’s what your mom would’ve wanted you to do, anyway.

but as you were walking to your residence with jayce after spending time with one another at a restaurant, a news reporter came up to you. the man attracted many other reporters to huddle up in front of you, almost barricading you into the wall. you shuttered at the lack of space, and reporters yelled and stuck microphones and cameras into your face.

one asked, “miss kiramman, do you have any plans on becoming the leader of the kiramman house anytime soon?” as if it wasn’t a sensitive question, relating to your mom’s passing.

you frowned as another question followed, “how has your mother’s death affected you?”

“will you join the council to replace your mother’s spot?”

tears began to spring in your eyes as you backed up, becoming closer and closer to the wall. yet, the reporters wouldn’t stop asking questions and entrapped you, all around you, unable to move. suddenly your boyfriend loudly announced, “that is enough. go along with your day and leave.” his eyebrows were furrowed with concentration and he balled his fists up.

one of the reporters interjected, “mr. talis, all we want is to ask miss kiramman a couple questions—“

he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then glared at the man. he suddenly understood and nodded, appearing embarrassed. they all followed after the man, who ran away once he saw councilor medarda, who wandered around the streets with her companion, lest.

jayce gently rubbed your shoulder with his large hand and mumbled, “sorry you had to see that. are you okay?” he knew you didn’t like talking about her death often, as it was recent and it’s all anyone would bother you about. however, when he saw your glossy eyes and your hands wiping them, he knew something was wrong. you hadn’t normally acted like this around him, nevertheless anyone.

you slightly nodded, just enough for jayce to see. you lowered your head, not wanting to be noticed by anyone else as jayce held the door open for you. a lock clicked behind you, and you traveled up the flight of stairs to your room. your heart pounded as you were reminded of the night when you saw your mother’s lifeless body on the ground, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. too much heat was in the room, maybe you had to open the window. you quickly sprinted over to the window and opened it, still feeling so hot all over your body.

god, everything was too much. you whimpered as you felt liquid dripping down your cheeks, and your throat began to tighten up as if barbed wires wrapped themselves around your neck. you wiped your forehead with your sleeve, only to feel the warmth on the cloth from sweat. ringing filled your ears, causing you to ball your fists up as you sat on the ground, starting to hit your head to stop the ringing. unfortunately, you couldn’t stop the noise in your head.

you couldn’t hear anything, and your body became numb. as your throat continued to tighten, you rubbed your throat in pain, wanting to tell your mom that you were sorry. why the hell weren’t you there when she was dying? you could’ve prevented her death, couldn’t you? maybe you could’ve blocked her body with yours from the hit, then you would’ve taken most of the damage. it would’ve been better that way. she was more influential, more powerful, and more important than you. what would’ve happened if you were there to save her? would you be at dinner right now? would you be hugging her? telling her a stupid joke she always laughed at? would you be dead?

it pained you that there was no way to know what could’ve happened.

jayce heard sobs as he washed his hands in the bathroom, screams, even. his heart raced and he dried his hands, then he ran out of your large bathroom to see your head in your hands, hitting it with your fists as hard as you could. you were sobbing, “i’m sorry, mom, i’m sorry,” repeatedly, over and over on a loop. your body shook like you were the most delicate thing in the world, like you were about to break any second. your arms dripped with sweat, and you seemed to be dissociative, as you didn’t respond to his calls of your name.

he then realized they were common signs of a panic attack. must’ve been from all the reporters bugging you with their never-ending questions and from the passing of someone so important in your life. he didn’t know how to handle a situation like this, but he knew you needed someone to help you and ground you. he gently placed a hand on the crown of your head and rubbed it gently, as if you were a child. you slowly looked up at him, eyes and face all red from crying. you sniffled, mind still racing, as you tried to focus on the words that came out of his mouth, not recognizing the ones that came out of yours.

you were full-on sobbing, dry tears laid helplessly on your skin, waiting to be rehydrated with new ones. you closed your eyes and cradled yourself, still crying out, ‘i’m sorry,’ so jayce slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, not knowing if he was doing the right thing. he asked, as he gave a kiss to your shoulder, “why are you sorry, sweetheart?” you unconsciously leaned into his warm frame, although you felt far too hot for your liking.

your wailing became quieter as you continued talking, listing all the reasons why you should’ve been the one who took the hit, you should’ve been better to her, you should’ve spent more time with her, and you should’ve been there before she died. he continued to ask you questions so you could open up about your feelings until your throat hurt from sobbing and talking for so long.

you leaned your head against him for a few minutes in silence, not wanting to say anything more. he rubbed your shoulder and turned, staring into your red eyes. you whimpered and wiped your eyes, staring up at him with a pout on your face. he softly smiled, then gently placed a hand on your wet cheek. he placed his lips against yours, the most intimate kiss you’ve shared. once the two of you pulled away, he helped you stand up, expecting to carry you to bed.

but to his surprise, you hugged him, causing him to stumble back with the amount of force you used. you mumbled into his chest, “i love you so much, jayce.” your voice was strained, using the rest of your words and power to thank him for his help and love.

he wrapped his strong arms around you and petted your hair, “i love you too.” he couldn’t have felt more affectionate or loving than now, and you felt the same. after a few minutes of staying in the hug, he slowly undressed you and changed you into more comfortable clothes. he carried you to your bed, then changed into his clothes that he kept in your drawers for when he stayed the night. he just changed into a pair of sweatpants, taking his shirt and everything else off.

turning the lights off, he walked over to you and pulled the sheets down, causing you to quickly huddle up to him and trap his leg with yours. you wrapped your arm around his waist, wanting to feel as close as you possibly could to him. as jayce’s breath began to even out, you knew he was the only one who could calm you down, bring you out of that headspace. he was nervous, he’d never comforted someone like that before, but his dedication and patience showed you he was the one for you.

[sleeping-sirens]

morning with san ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

pairing : choi san x f reader.

genre : non idol au, established relationship, newlyweds au, mature, fluff, the morning after. (minors dni pls, or it’ll make me feel uncomfortable)

word count : 1k words.

note : this is my first work for ateez, pls be nice 🥹 and this is pretty much VERY self indulgent lol

masterlist

when he is asked about love, there are a plenty of things that san can think of. his family, his hometown, his hobbies, his friends and everything that contributed and still contributes in making him the person he is today.

but when his mind is stirred awake from his sleep and the rays of sunshine dimmed by the dark beige curtains penetrate his eyelids, his mind is blank.

it’s empty, almost numb. he’s at peace. and he’s happy.

all he can hear is silence, except for his heartbeat resonating deep inside his ears. a deep breath is taken all the way in and he’s feeling liberated, stripped from any heaviness that comes with life.

no thoughts weigh on his mind, or his heart or his entire body that feels like a heap of feathers on top of the softness of the bed.

it takes him a moment to open his eyes, even if he is eager to explore his surroundings, discover new feelings and create new habits now that his life has changed. for the better, he claims. with you.

he doesn’t rush because he feels like something deep inside his chest would burst once he lays his eyes on you. and he wishes he was exaggerating.

he wants to slowly savor the feeling of sleeping with remnants of you, of waking up next you, of seeing you curled up next to him, body still, calm, glowing, beautiful.

when he finally opens his eyes, what he sees exceeds his expectations by a thousand of deep breaths, a million of shooting stars and a billion of blazing fireworks. you’re there, he still can’t believe it but you’re there. on his bed, beside him and his. for life.

san presses his lips together, tongue swiping against his lower lip and he’s reminded of what happened the night before. when he showed you his love in more ways than one. when he painted your body with promises of care and devotion. when he tainted your soul with everything that is him.

you’re there, your bare back is facing him and traces of love are littering your skin. he smiles, eyes crinkling and dimples popping, a sigh leaving his lips and a hand placed on his raging heart that he thinks might turn to liquid from how much he loves you.

his eyes trail on your figure, the light blanket sitting dangerously low on your body, leaving nothing to his imagination. the valley of your hips sitting high and dipping into your inviting thighs, eyes staring a bit too long at your ass.

san stifles a little moan, dying it down with a deep breath that ends with a small hint of a groggy purr. it’s early in the morning and he can’t seem to calm down himself, his own body aching to hold you, be close to you, to own you.

without thinking—he always seems to never think when he’s around you—he stretches his arm out and let his fingers gently graze against your skin. you’re cold under his warm touch, goosebumps instantly forming. hot blood races through his veins and down his already loaded morning wood. puffs of breath escape his lips as he draws a pattern with his fingertips from the middle of your back, and down, down, down. until his entire hand is covering your ass cheek.

“it tickles,” you say, a breathy chuckle airing from your chest.

“did i wake you?” san asks softly. he comes closer to you and nuzzles his nose deep into your neck. the hand that was pressed on your bottom slithers up and around and settles in the soft crevice of your lower stomach, fingers brazenly reaching lower.

you shake your head. your breath stuck in your chest, sending you into a dizzy state. “no, i was awake.”

he hums softly into your skin, before pressing your lower body closer against him. his lips place feverish kisses on your neck, arriving at the slope of your shoulders and down your arms.

you instinctively lean into him, ass molding gently against his hard dick.

“babyyy,” he whimpers, his brain already turning into mush.

you giggle at him. “hm?” you jokingly answer. and san is incapable of forming one coherent sentence. all he can think about is you, mind clouded with you, your skin, you warmth, your body, your smell, his smell on your body and your ass pressing into him.

“can i?” a pause, then a sigh, then a whine. “can we…?”

you turn to him smiling when you see his face crumpling into the most defeated expression ever. cheeks flushed, eyes glossy.

you wrap your hand around his face and place gentle kisses on his lips. one after the other, softly. calming the ripples of chaos in his mind, or so you thought. he only grows eager, needy, demanding.

his hands caress all over your body, fingers curling into the inside of your knee and hooking your leg around him, his dick pushing into your pussy in a hurried action. his hips start bucking into you with every push of his lips on you, swallowing your hisses and breaths, inhaling your moans, intoxicating himself with you.

but he’s soft. despite all his fierce emotions, he’s gentle with you, so gentle he makes you melt. he makes your soul turn into liquid gold. you’re his prized possession. his treasure.

when you try to pull away to catch your breaths, san’s head duck lower down your chest and between your breasts. he’s heaving, mind racing and heart beating so fast. he holds you close, telling himself to slow down, reminding himself that he doesn’t want to rush with you now that you’re his.

he vowed to keep you by his side, to love you and protect you and he will do just that.

and without him asking twice, or even once, you give him everything and he takes it. he takes, doubles it and gives it to you. without a doubt.

when he is asked about love, there are a plenty of things that san can think of. his family, his hometown, his hobbies, his friends and everything that contributed and still contributes in making him the person he is today.

but when it comes to you, his mind is blank. a white canvas, ready to be painted by you.

note : i originally had this idea for mingi but san is clouding my mind rn so i couldn’t help it 😭😵‍💫this was so difficult for me to write because my mind and thoughts are full of him rn oof🥲 pls like and reblog if you enjoyed reading <33

[tasteracha]

a/n: i'm still taking a little tumblr break but the combination of things i've seen today and @astraystayyh and @forlix had me.......is this chan? is this hyunjin? who knows. also this was written very quickly and not proofread.

you’re on top of him before he can blink - still wearing that sinful outfit and wearing an annoying confident smirk that makes your blood bubble up and threaten to burst out of your veins. 

it takes only a few minutes of a nasty makeout and heavy petting before he’s touching your core through your shorts and you’re jerking in his lap. 

you unbutton his pants and free his cock from his boxers in what must have been record time, him returning the favor to your shorts like he can’t last one more second without being inside of you. 

of all people, you understood the sentiment, especially when he looked like that. 

you take advantage of your spot on his lap and position yourself over him, sliding slowly down and savoring every centimeter of his cock as it enters you. 

“oh, fuck,” he curses under his breath when you’re seated fully, his entire length throbbing against your walls. your knees are already wobbly from just one taste of him inside of you, and yet you work past it to roll your hips against his. 

he lets you have your fun for a few moments, looking up at you with a twistingly confusing mix of adoration and condescension. you can almost see the moment he tires of your slow pace, his eyebrows furrowing as he weight out his options before deciding on your fate. 

his hands circle your waist, tight in a bruising grip as he steadies you. you barely have time to whine in confusion before he starts fucking up into you, keeping you still on top of him. you felt weightless, the only stimulus hitting your empty head was the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, over and over. 

“eyes on me,” he all but growls out when you drop your head to his chest, starting to pant a bit. “i want to see you fall apart on my cock.” 

you meet his eyes and almost fall apart on the spot - his pupils are blown out, dark possessiveness overriding everything else as he keeps you in place. you feel like a puppet, taught on his strings and there is nothing else running through your head other than his name chanting like a prayer. 

you don’t realize that you’re saying it out loud until he moves one hand to tangle into your hair, pulling your lips into his to shut you up. 

you come together and it’s brighter than the sparks of fireworks behind your eyelids. you sob into his mouth as he fucks you through both of your highs until the only sound echoing through the room is your harsh breathing mingling with his. 

you can't stand straight when he lifts you off and you almost stumble back onto him; and he laughs at you and you shoot him a glare, reaching for his softening cock in retaliation. the sound of his panicked shout when he curves away from you sends your heart soaring through the skies. 

[pequins]

jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 7)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS CHAPTER

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

-

“Fuck-…. Do your very best not to scream, baby.” The heated boy requested and a trail of kisses down your breast followed, you squeaked, and he chuckled against your belly as he kept his way down, until his wet lips kissed your sweet folds.

“Megumi-i….” you pleaded, and he smashed your heated core against his face, “where’s-where’s the timid Fushiguro?” you end up teasing.

“You make him this feral, pretty one.” You heard his husky voice muffled your folds as he ate you just as his father did hours ago. Your body squirmed, tensed and relaxed in the lapse of ten minutes straight, Megumi was as insatiable as he was agile with fingers and tongue.

“I need to-…. I need to-”

He didn't even have to finish his sentence when you spread your legs wider, presenting yourself to him and his hungry gaze.

"I said: Don't hold back, ain't I?" You reminded him, and before Megumi lost it completely to become his father’s son. Your mouth wrapped that big, awfully thick piece of meat shinning on precum inside, tasting him, licking from head to balls. Making his skin spark in thousands of goosebumps and his bones to tremble inside his body.

This was pure glory, his dream come true, this was heaven to him. Thrusting a few times inside your wet cave just to shoot a small spurt of cum right into your throat, panting and heaving himself away from you before he came completely.

“Inside you,” he ordered, and you grinned so sensually he almost came on the spot, desire shinning in your orbs made him feel more welcome than his parents the first time he met them. Fuck! You were his everything and moving your body to his liking he positioned himself between your spreads thighs to easily slip inside you, of course, after being eaten so thoughtfully the entire day, your walls almost welcome him and shaped around his girth as if he belonged inside you.

“Fuck!” Megumi growled, blissed out. “OHGOD! I’m home-”

He tasted the smile on your face as you claimed his lips to kiss him, and Megumi’s hips started slow yet quickly gain inch by inch, heroically claiming you as he thrusted -wild and feral- inside your wetness, you feel like the nicest pocket of flesh, your gummy walls pulsating around him felt devastatingly good.

Wet noises mixed with high pitched mewls from your parted quivering lips and deep grunts pour out of him from time to time as he reached deeper inside your welcoming core. 

It was lewd the barbaric way Megumi had chosen to breed you.

He doesn’t remember burying his palm in your mane to spin you around and practically shove you on top of his mattress to change positions over and over again, twisting you to his liking. 

Cannot recall wrapping your legs around him to force you to ride him, or his mouth rejoicing in your delicious pair of round breasts to have his full, squeezing and pinching the perked flesh with teeth while defiling you.

When did he started to slam full force into you, rattling the mattress as he sheath himself in your slick warmth to the hilt, still eluded him. The raven-haired devil was carelessly reordering your womb as he devotedly fed your tight lips his cock. Openly dismissing your pleas for him to go slower, to be gentler…instead, kept rocking mercilessly deep making sure to hit, brazenly and repeatedly, that special spot inside you just to see the fireworks.  

A pleased sound rumbled in his chest with contained mirth and a disturbingly stretched grin betrayed his natural compose self. 

“My sweet–sweet (Y/N)” he growled in a strained voice. Gruff fingers keeping you effectively anchored to his groin, gushing away into your resistless, subdued pussy. 

Both hands dutifully keeping you trembling hips up and ready, even after all strength had been drained and hanged limp, only secured by his greedy grasp.

“Sweet, defenseless (Y/N)…” He snarled into your neck leaning over you and clamping a hand down over your shoulder to adjust his angle just the slightest bit. “P-Precious girl...so eager to take her best friend’s cock…–” 

Dragging you with him, lifted your leg, anchoring his foot against the edge of the mattress and found his leverage to pound deeper, groaning throatily, Megumi continued to slap his loaded heavy balls against your over-used pussy, covered and dripping in their combined fluids, plump and ready with a fresh load cooked especially for his little darling.

“–Foolish (Y/N) … foolish enough to accept to have a sleepover with me… just to get railed against my bed” he licked his lips. “Do you think they are listening?” Megumi wondered and glance down at you to find you numb from the blast of pleasure. 

Your moans were those of a subjugated and defeated animal. You had been conquered by the implacable Zenin heir who stubbornly refused to give up an inch of his new territory. Thrust after thrust continued his crusade. Each one more deliciously accurate, pulling him closer to the blinding sensation of release. 

“I know they are listening…” he sounded amused and soon a quiet long, raspy moan filled the room. “I hope they are listening… paying special attention at how I fill you up so good. Fuck! I’m even putting a couple of my pups inside you tonight, baby.”

Megumi began to feel his frame grow tense; this angle was insanely perfect to him. You at his mercy, unable to deny him, incapable of dodge or hide from his grasp. Gave free rein to his corrupt essence to defile you. Megumi was taking what was rightfully his. That thought bloated his arousal, clouding what little self-restrain he had left and pistoned his narrow hips like a feral rabbit.

You, being merciless nailed to his mattress could barely breath, much less emit any coherent noise apart from low mewls of despair and the attempt of his name in your angelical, overused vocal cords. But it was more than enough to guide the man on top of you straight into his blissful reward. 

“If you fucking respect me” he warned feeling himself close, eyes rolled to the back of his head and balls tighten almost painfully. “Don’t you ever look at them again! You are MINE!”

Head pulled back, feverish cheeks and mouth hanging slightly open before a deep, long grunt echoed through the walls whilst white thick ribbons of cum washed the inside of your convulsing walls while milking every last drop out of him. 

“F-FUUUUCK!~”

A mind-blowing orgasm kidnapped all his senses, melting away what strength he had left, and the intensity of the act shook him awake with a startled gasp. 

Megumi opened his heavy lids to find himself alone in the futon right next to his bed where you still were soundly sleeping. He was a sweaty mess, soiled and dripping from his awfully vast load now painting the inside of his pants, and shame abruptly and frustratingly began to creep into his injured pride. 

“Shit! Shit!...Shit!“ he blasted quietly in anger. Another fucking dream–…he reprimanded internally while massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his erratic heartbeat. 

Am I fucking fifteen again!? 

Slowly straightening he verified that you were effectively deep sleep before sigh in relieve. 

His shirt was drenched in sweat and his cheeks were red and foggy, pants awkwardly sticking to his hot skin reminding him his cold stain of disgrace. Megumi passed a hand through his disheveled hair unsticking wet strands from his forehead and sat up in his futon getting rid of the asphyxiating covers. 

This dream was way more intense and vivid than the last ones…is this my life now? To fantasize about you like a lame pathetic loser. 

Angrily huffing, lazily hauled his shirt off and drop the heavy fabric producing a wet thud while hitting the floor, immediately feeling better when the cold air hit his warm skin. He needed to take a bath and wash his pants, personally. It was mortifying enough to cum like a teenager in private, for someone else to find out too… and he needed to do all of this before you wake up.

A knock on the door, startle him out of his obsessing mind which busy itself in repeating the dream in an insistent loop and in a compose voice replied. 

“Who is it?” 

Megumi waited and the stain in his pants grew more noticeable by the minute making him feel more anxious.

“It’s Dad, open up.”

Dammit! Dammit!... Not him, not right now.

PART 8

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY