#i lie down to go to bed early -> i get an idea -> its 3am

[irishyuri]

another average night

[cleo-fox]

Daylight

Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.

The sunlight wakes you the next morning.

It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.

Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.

That seems more likely.

You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 

The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.

But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.

You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.

Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”

“Really? That was rude of him.”

“Very.”

He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”

Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.

7:38 am.

“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”

Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”

“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”

You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”

“I’d never,” he says.

“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”

You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”

You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.

“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”

You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.

You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.

You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.

“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.

“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.

“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”

He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”

“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”

His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.

“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit

You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.

“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”

“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”

You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”

Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.

Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”

Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”

He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.

You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.

“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.

It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.

The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 

You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.

“All right?” he asks softly.

You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.

It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.

“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.

Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.

But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.

It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.

The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.

Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).

But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.

“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.

“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.

“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”

You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.

“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”

You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.

“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”

You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.

You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.

His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.

It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.

“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.

He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”

You grin. “Not even a little?”

He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”

His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”

“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.

The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.

“You are way too good at this,” you say.

“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”

“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”

He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”

“We’ll see.”

The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.

His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 

“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.

“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.

“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.

“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”

“We are already running late—”

“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”

“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”

“I’ve waited so long, darling.”

“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.

“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.

You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.

Fuck. 

You are definitely going to have sex again.

His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.

“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”

And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.

It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.

Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.

He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”

You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”

He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”

“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.

Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”

“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”

“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”

“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.

“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”

“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.

Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”

Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.

“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”

“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”

“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”

You blink at him. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.

“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 

“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”

“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.

“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”

Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”

Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”

“You’re taking his side?”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”

It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.

“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.

You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”

“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”

“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”

“To sleep?” you tease. 

“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”

The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.

You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”

[g0dlyunsub]

hey!!! Ugh I just love your account! I have a request for Spencer Reid x fem reader!! Can you do one where he is always working and it makes the reader upset bc he is cancelling dates and coming home late and kinda neglects her feelings and doesn't really notice how much it affects her and how sad she gets and then he misses their anniversary dinner and she breaks and tells him that it makes her upset when he's gone all the time and he just feels so awful bc he's so in love with her and never wants her to feel that way because of him and apologizes and reassures her and makes sure she feels loved!!

ty for the request and i loved the idea for this one!

wishful thinking.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: angst with a fluffy ending; very mild makeout session at the end :3

word count :: 2.4k

author’s note :: i kind of giggled at the ending as i was writing it, but i’m pretty proud of how this one turned out!

accompanying song :: neverthere by xander

spencer’s phone is quite literally the bane of your existence.

you know what to expect whenever it rings, so you hate when it actually does – its earthquaking vibrations and trilled beeps tear the happiness straight out of you.

it’s the second date in a row that he’s had to pass, and you wonder if you should just stop trying so hard. was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself, to have him seated right across from you, sharing your laughter as you pass him his plated pasta? were you expecting too much, imagining a serene life with him ten years down the road, perhaps with kids or pets of your own? was it unfair to think that you could craft a lie, telling him your stomach hurt really bad, so bad that you would have to curl up on the floor and pray he’d stay by your side just this once to comfort you?

all you ever wanted was spencer. more specifically, you wanted spencer during your first three dates, when he’d silence all of his phone calls, and wave them off like nothing even though you insisted he take them. maybe if you didn’t bring up the importance of taking work calls, none of this would have ever happened. maybe it was all coming back to bite you for your non-confrontational nature, since you could never plead him to actually stay.

but he’s your boyfriend… and that’s all that matters, right? after all, he has lives to save – people whose names are called out during prayers day and night by their loved ones as they cling on to the sliver of hope that your boyfriend and his team promise during the darkest hours. granted, spencer would drop everything if you were in a similar situation, but none of your problems have actually been life-threatening. but a girl can dream, can’t she? your first anniversary date was when spencer promised to make amends, a formal compensation for all of the past dates that he missed and left you feeling empty on your shared bed, stains of mascara chalked up on your dry cheeks.

“i’m so sorry, honey, i’ve just been… called in for work,” spencer stands, dusting the napkin that was folded nicely on his lap. you watch as he takes a sip of his glass of water, then walks over to you to plant a kiss on your forehead.

he runs his fingers along the velvety texture of the sleeves of your dress, and you offer him a weak smile.

“it’s okay, duty calls, right?” you feel the tears surfacing and you have to fight yourself to not blink. it’s too early to cry.

“i-it’s a really bad one this time, and i hate to do this on such an important day-” spencer begins to apologize frantically, and his face marks an expression of genuine concern with his brows furrowing and lips twitching.

“it’s okay. you need to go, i understand.” you state plainly, and you immediately feel shameful – your words are too assertive and snarly for how you normally respond.

spencer pauses briefly, fidgeting with his fingers, before he gives a slight nod in your direction. he then walks over to the couch, grabs a book, and tightens the clasps on his bag. 

“i’ll be back as fast as i can,” spencer utters quietly and walks out of the door. when the apartment door locks with a click, you break down immediately.

at first, the tears fall one by one. but then, a salty stream evident of pure emotional wreckage makes its way into the slight gap of your lips, and it’s an unstoppable domino effect. your shoulders shudder and heave as you struggle to catch breaths in between, and you splutter cries of your boyfriend’s name. 

maybe it would’ve been better to just stay as conversational partners, to exchange updates once in a while when he’d actually commit to a time. it was your fault for getting your hopes up high, and all of this – fanciful dinner and dressing your best for the occasion – was wishful thinking. you just didn’t want to admit it.

“y/n?” 

you look up to see spencer in front of the doorway, and his bag that was barely holding on to his shoulder drops to the floor with a thud.

you quickly look away, brushing the tears away with one arm and sniffle before choking out a response.

“i thought you left already, why are you here?” again, your words come out icier than you had hoped and hit you with a sharp pang of guilt.

spencer narrows his eyes ever so slightly as if he’s scrutinizing you, observing your body language. it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re upset.

“i was going to. realized i forgot-,”

he clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows and proceeds, "i misplaced my wallet."

he slips out of his loafers, shoving aside his pair of converses that lie adjacent to your pretty pair of heels. he walks over to you, and you realize that you’re still seated at the dining table. you must look so stupid right now, waiting as if he’d just be returning from a bathroom break.

“i need to head out, but i promise… i promise we’ll talk about this really soon. we’ll have the anniversary dinner and-”

“did you even try?” you blurt out, and you look up at him with your puffy eyes glazed with tears.

a deathly silence clouds over the entire apartment, and you’re thinking of two options: leave the apartment and go run to a friend’s place, or confront him and see whether making amends – again, wishful thinking – would be possible.

“y/n. please believe me when i say that i’ve tried to, i’ve tried-”

you slam a hand to the table before standing up, your face twisting into an expression of outrage.

“no, because then you would’ve silenced it. you would’ve cut the call, just like you used to.” you fire your words at him as your hair sticks to the drying tears on your cheeks, and you begrudgingly wipe at your face. 

a slow sigh escapes from spencer’s lips, and he looks at you with those eyes – the eyes that seemingly warn you, saying you don’t want to go there. not right now.

but you double down on him, the rage fueling your words as you lash out. 

“it was just this one time. i only wanted you to stay for dinner just this one time.” you helplessly drop your hands to your sides, the tears landing on the floor with soft plops.

“i know. and i’m terribly sorry.” spencer bites his bottom lip and takes a step toward you. but you take a step back, and maybe that pulls a string between the two of you, because you can see how his shoulders tense up.

“look, can we talk about this when i get back? i’ll make it up to you, i swear.” he combs through his hair, the stress almost palpable as it leaks from his shaking fingers.

while you know he has to head out again, the way he so easily brushes off the conversation like it’s something he doesn’t even want to think about feeds into your disbelief. soon, however, your anger subsides into a tired frown. 

“i don’t know, you might come home late… when i’m asleep or something.” you look at the wall where a photo of the two of you is framed, and you weakly smile at how happy you seemed then. 

“i’ll give you a call, is that okay?” he searches your face for any signs of approval, but you’re zoned out thinking about the past, of how everything used to be.

“whatever, just go.” you wave him off and walk to the couch, where you lie down and turn against him to face the plush fabric.

spencer sighs, and his hand looms over your head momentarily before he grabs his wallet from the table. you hear a faint sorry trail from behind as he leaves the room, and your nails claw at the arms of the couch before the darkness cradles you once again.

it’s 10:30 pm, and you hear the doorknob click again. you had just cleaned up the dishes after eating dinner alone and left his portion in the fridge. you were now changed into your pajamas and getting ready for your night routine.

you peep out of your bedroom door to see spencer, his suit all wet. he looks at you as he takes off his shoes, and a sullen expression paints his face. did it start raining after he left? you realize that you were mostly cooped up in the bedroom since his departure, so you wouldn’t have known.

bravely looking up at him in the eye, you state: “you came back early.” you hate how unwelcoming you sound in his own home.

he pauses before he sets his wet bag on the floor and removes his blazer jacket to throw over a chair. 

he approaches you, hands in his pockets and hair twisted in matted curls. 

“hm.” he grabs a towel from the closet and makes his way to the shower, brushing past your shoulder. you feel an icy shudder spread through your spine after he closes the bathroom door.

was he giving you the silent treatment right now? 

you hear the water start from the bathroom and you sink into your bed while turning to twist the lamp lights on.

after all that torturous waiting you went through, he was giving you the silent treatment?

fifteen minutes later, a knock reverberates from the other side of the bedroom door, and even though you don’t respond, spencer steps in. he’s changed into a t-shirt and black pajama pants, and he drops next to you on the bed.

“i’m taking the week off.” 

the sentence startles you, and it’s something so unexpected you choke on your own saliva.

“what, what do you mean you’re taking the week off?” you ask him, finally turning to face him in the eyes. his brown irises blaze into your own.

“i’ve been pushing off everything you wanted to do with me — things that I wanted to do with you — and i’ve just been…” he turns away to play with the wrinkles on his pants as he speaks, picking out the dust that lies embedded between the folds.

he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep sigh. he continues, “i don’t know if it’s all worth it.”

silence casts a blanket over the two of you.

“spence,” you say after a while, and hesitantly lay a hand on his thigh.

“nothing’s more important in the world to me than you. you and your happiness. i know you love this job and i know you love helping people. you’re such a kind hearted man, and it’s why i fell in love with you in the first place.”

when spencer gives you no response, you confess: “spence, i get jealous sometimes.”

this time his eyes widen, and he looks at you.

“you do?” he asks softly, peering into your eyes and you cave instantly. 

“of course i do. it’s… everybody wants you, spencer. we all need you, whether we realize it or not.”

he scoffs.

“but i only want you.”

his voice is raspy yet mellow at the same time, the smoothest stream of sweetness seeping through your eardrums. god. you can never stay mad at this gorgeous man, the same man that made you cry on numerous occasions just counting the past week.

“you need to do more than that, if you… you know.” you quietly murmur as you fidget with the hem of your nightgown.

“i know,” he speaks with a hushed tone. “i told hotch, and i told him it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. the demands of this job are… tough, but i don’t want to miss out on all the things we planned together. i won’t.”

you start bawling right when he delivers the last word, and all the tears that you were holding back spill over your flushed cheeks. your boyfriend immediately leans in to console you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his chin rests on top of your head. 

it’s okay, he murmurs reassuringly. you ease into his touch, and you realize how much you missed this. how much you missed spending time with him.

his left hand tugs lightly at your soft hair while his right rubs your back in smooth circles. 

“i missed you,” you speak with a hushed voice, looking up into his eyes as a glassy coat of tears blur your vision. 

he cups your face with his hands before whispering, “i missed you too.”

you continue to blabber words of love-stained anguish but he cuts you off short, pulling you in for a short kiss on your lips, which are now tainted with your tears.

“you taste… salty,” he whispers, giving you a slight smile as he brushes off the rest of your tears that weigh down on your eyelashes.

“it’s because of you, silly,” you drawl as you taste the salty residue of your tears.

yeah, spencer responds hesitantly. but he’s wearing a small smile, tilting his head to one side as his eyes emit a glint of tranquilizing peace.

he reaches into his pajama pocket and takes out a piece of candy. you curiously watch as his fingers quickly remove the wrapper, revealing a glazed cherry-flavored sphere. 

“may i?” he asks, and his faint voice is a gravitational force that you can’t resist.

you briefly respond with a lazy hm? before he plops the candy into your mouth and kisses you again. the sweetness explodes like fireworks with his warm breath, and the sticky layer of sugar melts like acid on your intertwined tongues. you let out a satisfied hum when you pull back, and it’s undeniably attractive the way spencer licks the corner of his lips.

a tear falls from your eye again, and this time, it’s not out of sorrow.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hi, I am slipping into your Kinktober requests again, if that's okay with you! I'd love to request something for Hugh Jackman this time, as I keep seeing more and more of him, and I'm happy to drool over that fantastic man with your stories! 👀

Kissing down every inch of your body they possibly can, showing how much they love you. + "Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name.

I'm preparing to melt into a permanent puddle of goo here as I'm happily waiting to see what you'll come up with here. Again, thank you for everything you share with us, and I'm looking forward to reading it all! 🤍

Kiss away your insecurities

A/N: Thank you for requesting this, my darling! Hope you like it :) Special thanks to @stark-ironman for helping me with this idea 💛

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut themes, angst, floof. Body image issues, self-doubt and negative talk.

Hugh Jackman, Logan Masterlist

.

You were still out of breath.

Heart pounding wildly against your ribcage thanks to the activities you and your boyfriend were up to ever since he got home. Even though the shared sounds of passion had died down, they were now replaced with your louder insecurities, forcing you to curl away from the man and head to the bathroom to clean up.

Hugh frowned as the door slammed shut with a little more force than usual. Concerned, he knocked on it asking if you were okay.

“Uh, yeah. Fine.” You responded, blinking back tears that began rapidly gathering. Your inner thoughts screamed you didn’t deserve all of this.

“Mind if I join you for a quick shower, darling?” Hugh called again after hearing the water running. Something you had a habit of doing every time you were overwhelmed with emotions.

“Actually I’m going to be right out. You know I have the—the thing early morning.”

Cursing yourself to have to lie, you scrubbed your body forcefully, glad the tears streamed down with the hot water and your shaky voice was somewhat covered.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you were met with a concerned Hugh, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Why would you think that?” You faked a laugh, going around him to get dressed for bed. Knowing fully well you weren’t fooling your boyfriend.

“Because you’re avoiding me.”

Giving him your most reassuring smile that you could muster, you shook your head as you slipped into one of his well worn t-shirts, getting onto your side of the bed.

“No it’s just, I have to wake up early tomorrow and I wanted to get a quick shower in. I’m fine. Really.”

He was silent for a while as he joined you in bed, watching you fluff the pillows before you turned away from the man to switch off the bedside lamp.

“You can tell that to someone who believes your lies, darling. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” He tried again, switching the lamp back on and reaching out for your hand.

“Would you just drop it, Hugh?” You snapped, hating yourself for it as you turned the lights out again, pulling the blanket over and hiding yourself in its fluffy depths, hoping it would somehow cover your imperfections.

Your mind was still flooded with all sorts of thoughts about the way you looked, and how any day your little daydream would end and Hugh would realise what a mistake dating you was.

What was he even with you? You were far from perfect. You had curves that no matter what you did wouldn’t go away. You got trapped in your own head quite a bit, you were moody, and ten thousand other things that would push you away from the ‘ideal girlfriend’ title.

You lived in constant fear that he’d wake up one day and decide he was done with you. Then what would you ever do?

.

The next morning you woke up before Hugh did and went for a run, hoping it would clear your head.

It worked until you got a few heads turning in your direction, it wasn’t uncommon considering who you were dating; it was still overwhelming sometimes. You heard giggles and judgemental scoffs, possibly they were commenting on the way you looked.

It made you want to disappear. A sense of your deepest fears winning made you rush home, discard your jacket and ready to retreat into your room for the rest of the day. That was until your eyes fell on the breakfast spread that lay waiting on the table to your right.

“Morning sunshine! I thought I’d whip up your favourite breakfast today since you—hey, what’s wrong?”

You didn’t realise you had teared up again until Hugh rushed to your side with worry.

“Why are you with me?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I mean why are you with me? I don’t deserve any of this. You could be with anyone you want, I don’t understand why—”

He stepped in your line of vision, silencing your little ramble before gently wiping your tears away and leading you to sit on an armchair.

Wordlessly holding your hand against his chest, he took a deep breath in, gently coaxing you to follow. When you did, you could feel your erratic breaths returning to a normal slowly but surely. Just his presence on difficult days like these was calming.

“Talk to me?” he nudged, hands still clasped reassuringly.

“I just feel like you could do so much better than this…than me. You’re so—I mean, I am—”

Struggling to complete the sentence, you couldn’t help the crack in your voice as you avoided his gaze, shifting nervously on the chair.

“Beautiful? Kind? The best thing to have happened to me?” Hugh tilted your face to meet your eyes again, his own shining with all the love and adoration reserved just for you.

You wanted to believe him, so badly, yet the voices in your head got loud enough to make you doubt every single thing.

“I won’t allow you to talk much less think such lies about my amazing girlfriend, you know. She’s lucky her boyfriend immensely enjoys demonstrating just how much she means to him.”

You smiled at that, much to Hugh's relief, shaking your head.

"If you'll allow me to show you, my love."

With that he picked you up, leaving no room for any further protests from your side. Kicking the bedroom door shut with his foot, his lips descending onto yours in a kiss that effectively quieted down your fears and filled you with a renewed sense of assurance.

As the kiss deepened, your anxieties melted away, giving way for all the love that you held for this man, who by a miracle from the universe, was all yours. When you eventually broke the kiss after what felt like hours, he continued demonstrating all that he'd promised, making sure to whisper words that held such honesty, you wholeheartedly believed them.

This was nothing like you'd ever experienced before. This was more than just sex, it was worshiping, cherishing and much more. He held you close, accepting every curve, every scar, every last freckle as his own, showering you with all his love. You hadn't felt so loved, so respected, so seen, ever before in your life.

When you were filled to the hilt with his manhood, a moan that you trying so hard to suppress, escaped. Quickly covered your mouth with a hand, you quieted down, embarrassed.

"Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name."

"I'm afraid I'm too loud." you whispered.

Hugh tutted, interlacing your fingers and firmly locking your hands over your head, securing them in their rightful place as he began moving in your sopping heat.

"Not loud enough. Let 'em hear. Let 'em hear who's making you feel good, sweetheart."

Hot and breathy against your ear, his honeyed voice was enough to turn your insides to mush, encouraging you to not hold back anymore.

Soon, the walls of the house echoed with your shared sounds of passion, the intensity of them evident as you reached your highs together. Bodies trembling with wanton need as you drew the most sinful moans out of each other, fully alive in the moment.

As your climax crashed over you, it seemed to wash away any lingering negativity and uncertainty you had previously felt, making you sure of your dreams being actualized.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.

[castiwls]

Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing. 

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.” 

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.” 

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.” 

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room. 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast. 

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him. 

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking. 

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him. 

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.” 

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER TWO ━━ Silence and Static

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.5K

☆ ━ warnings: nothing really, paige is just kinda emo lol

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: sorry this is such a filler and it’s boring but it’s meant to serve as a basis for paige’s perspective after her and dani’s fall out

THE START of senior year has a bitter taste that Paige wasn’t prepared for. She’s envisioned this time in her life in so many different ways—dominating on the court, coasting through classes with Dani by her side, enjoying the final months before the world outside St. Louis Park opens up to them. But reality always has a way of shattering things, leaving Paige to pick up the pieces of what’s supposed to be the best year of her life.

The ache in Paige’s chest is a constant reminder of what she’s lost—or more accurately, what’s been torn away from her without any explanation. As she sits at the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, Paige’s fingers hover over the message icon, the urge to text Dani overwhelming. She doesn’t know what she’d say; she just wants to talk her. But the memory of her and Dani’s last conversation stops any true thought or idea of communicating with the brunette. She was so hostile, so cold, so different from Dani—who’s always been warm and kind and true. And now Paige stares at the last message she received from the girl and it hurts her eyes to even look at.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

i’m going to camp, won’t have my phone

sorry

It was sent in early June, and that was it. No further explanation, nothing to ease the anxiety that had gripped Paige the rest of the summer afterwards. And now, Dani and Paige are both back, and yet, the aforementioned is more distant than ever before. The silence between them has grown thick, suffocating, leaving Paige alone with her thoughts and the static of unanswered questions buzzing in her mind.

With a heavy sigh, Paige tosses her phone aside and forces herself to get up and get dressed. She goes through the motions: pulling on her favorite UConn hoodie, tying her shoes, grabbing her bag. But everything just feels off. The hoodie’s too heavy, her shoes too tight, and the backpack weighs down her shoulders more than it should. It’s as if the world has shifted slightly, leaving her out of sync with everything around her.

As Paige trudges down the stairs, she finds her dad and Drew in the kitchen, the two of them already busy with their morning routine. The smell of bacon and maple syrup fills the air, though it doesn’t bring its usual comfort to Paige.

“Senior year, P!” her dad, Bob, chirps, grinning sideways at his daughter as he packs Drew’s lunch box. “You excited?”

Paige forces a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

Bob’s brows furrow slightly at her tone, sensing the lie beneath the surface, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he just hands Paige a piece of bacon, which she gladly accepts. “I’m sure you’ll have a good time,” he replies, clearly trying to be reassuring.

Paige nods, sending him a short smile before making her way over to Drew. He sits at the table, eating his pancakes. She ruffles his hair a little, and then kisses it lightly, saying, “Have a good first day, ‘kay? Better tell me all about it when you get home.”

Drew will be in first grade and he’s been bustling with excitement to start back up in school since it ended, having had a wonderful kindergarten year. Paige adores her little brother’s innocence, his love for learning. It clenches at her heartstrings a little bit, though—it feels like he’s growing too fast.

Drew sends his older sister a grin, saying with his mouth full, “I will, Paigey!”

She smiles back, this one reaching her eyes a bit more, before mumbling her goodbyes, Amaya sending a text telling Paige she’s here. No, Paige does not have her license yet—no, she doesn’t want to talk about it. She heads out the door, the morning air crisp. It does little to clear her mind. She smiles a little at her sophomore friend as she gets into the passenger seat, greeting her. Amaya grins back, though she’s clearly unhappy with the fact summer’s over.

When they arrive, the parking lot is already half-full, students milling about in groups, laughing and talking and probably complaining about the fact that school’s back in session. Paige isn’t offended when Amaya leaves her side to go to her friends in her own grade, bounding over to them happily. Besides, the blonde has already spotted Thaliah Sommers and KK Adams near the entrance, the pair waving at her with tired smiles.

“Hey, P,” KK greets. “Senior year, yeah?”

“Seems like it,” Paige replies, glancing at the building, lips pulled into a tight line. She doesn’t even bother trying to fake another smile, expression brittle at this point. Her friends don’t seem to care; they both look more than exhausted, their summer sleep schedules most likely not mingling well with the early arrival time.

“Can’t believe I have a first period,” Thaliah grumbles, wiping at her eyes. Truthfully, the girl looks as if she’s just rolled out of bed—sporting a sweatshirt and sweatpants, face bare. It seems as though senior year has made them all careless.

“Yeah, but at least you get out after fourth,” Paige reasons, shaking her head as she thinks of her own schedule. “I have all these random free periods between my classes, so I gotta stay here all day. I’ll prolly just end up bothering Coach during ‘em.”

“I’d hate that,” Thaliah agrees, scrunching her face up as the three of them begin to walk into the building, recognizing that class starts in a few short minutes.

Inside, the familiar sights and sounds of the first day of school surrounds Paige. Lockers slamming shut, freshman looking lost, teachers already reprimanding students. To her disappointment, Paige doesn’t feel a single ounce of excitement as she takes in her surroundings, instead only feeling an unfamiliar sheen of anxiety graze over her skin. She knows why. Lately, everything that’s wrong with Paige has led back to the same thing. Dani has always been her constant; though, now, it’s in a far different way than it was before. Dani seems to be the source of all of Paige’s problems, all of her recent negative feelings, the new emotions she’s been experiencing. The absolute lack of Danielle Callan has rocked Paige’s world more than most would believe possible.

And Paige has no idea whether it helps or not that her first class of the day is AP Lit—the only class she and Dani will have together the whole school year. When they were signing up for classes last spring, it was Dani’s idea to take it together. Dani had always planned to take it, but when she found out that none of their friends had that same idea, she needed someone. And that someone—always—was Paige. The blonde was hesitant, because, truthfully, she’s only ever heard bad things about the class. The teacher’s good—Paige knows that, she had her for English her freshman year—but, according to some of Paige’s older friends that have since graduated, the class is apparently a shit ton of reading and too difficult for her own good. Yet, because it was Dani, Paige had agreed. And the thought of spending that hour with Dani every single day was enough to make the thought of tackling Shakespeare and Faulkner bearable (especially knowing that Dani would be there to help her). But now, as Paige steps into the typical flamboyant English type of classroom, the reality of what happened over the summer hits her like a tidal wave.

Dani’s already there, sitting in the middle row, her light brown hair pulled up into a messy bun. She looks tired, shoulders slightly hunched and dark circles under her eyes, gazing vacantly at her desk. Paige’s heart twists a little at the sight. It’s not as if Paige hasn’t seen Dani at all since their fight—she has. They live right next door to each other, of course she has. But it still hurts all the same. To be completely cut off with little to no explanation by your best friend who you also happen to be hopelessly in love with is fucking painful.

Paige hesitates in the doorway, her feet rooted to the ground as her eyes stay on Dani. She wants nothing more than to go to her, to sit beside her like they always have, to pretend that everything is okay, even if it’s not. But something in Dani’s posture, in the way she keeps her eyes downcast, warns Paige to stay back and keep her distance.

“Oh, Paige!” Mrs. Donovan, the AP Lit teacher, calls out in excitement as her eyes land on her student. She grins brightly—a bit too brightly for the early hour, Paige can’t help but think—and gestures to a desk. The one that’s— “You’re right behind Danielle!”

Dani doesn’t look up at the sound of her name, doesn’t bother to acknowledge Paige’s presence at all. The blonde swallows hard, forcing herself to move. She slides into the seat Mrs. Donovan gestured to, the one right behind Dani, her heart pounding against her rib cage. From this close, Paige can see the tension in Dani’s shoulders, the way her fingers tap anxiously against the surface of the desk. Paige can only imagine how Dani’s feeling—but, still, she’s usually mostly accurate. Dani’s always been more introverted, and new schedules, new routines, and new people tend to make her anxious. Paige can tell she’s feeling that way right now. Because, despite everything, Dani is still Dani. And Paige will always know Dani. The blonde wants to reach out, to say something—anything—but the words only stick in her throat.

As the bell rings and Mrs. Donovan starts the class, handing out syllabi and talking about what to expect for the year, Paige’s mind strays far from the discussion. Instead, she finds herself staring at the back of Dani’s head, thoughts and memories circling through her head with unwarranted clarity.

JULY 2013

THEY’RE ELEVEN years old, and the summer sun blazes over them as Paige and Dani sit on the swings at the park near their houses. It’s a place they’ve been coming to for years, one of their constants. In fact, it’s actually where they first met.

The air is thick with the scent of freshly cut grass, mingling with the sweet aroma of the cherry popsicles the girls devoured earlier. Paige’s legs pump the air lazily, the tips of her shoes grazing the ground, while Dani swings a bit higher, her hair flying out behind her like a banner in the wind. The worn-out metal creaks with each swing, a familiar sound that blends into the background of their laughter and chatter.

“Race you to the top!” Dani suddenly shouts, voice filled with a reckless enthusiasm that usually belongs in Paige’s instead. Without waiting for a response, Dani leaps off the swing, her feet hitting the ground with a soft thud, making a beeline for the jungle gym.

Paige’s laugh bursts out of her before she can help it, and she scrambles to follow, heart pounding with the thrill of the chase. “No fair, you started first!” she calls, her words trailing behind her as she races after her best friend.

They reach the platform that hovers above the slide, the same spot where Dani broke her arm years before. Paige remembers it vividly—how Dani had cried, the way her elbow was bent all weird, and how Paige had held her hand the entire car ride to the hospital. The spot is a little scarred now, but it doesn’t stop them from sitting side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge as they survey their world from above.

From this vantage point, Paige can see so much more. The neighborhood spreads out before them like a patchwork quilt, each house a different square, each tree a different shade of green. The sun casts long shadows, making the world below them seem like a dream, distant and hazy. There’s a stillness in the air, a peaceful quiet that Paige—for once—isn’t the one who breaks.

“P?” Dani asks, her voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Paige hums in question, keeping her gaze out before her instead of on the girl next to her. There’s something in Dani’s voice that makes her brain short circuit a little, a seriousness that doesn’t belong in the carefree world around them. “Yeah?” Paige asks, trying to sound light, though a small knot of worry forms in her stomach.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Dani’s words hang in the air between them, heavy and laden with thought.

Paige turns to look over at her now, eyebrows furrowed in surprise. Dani’s never been the type to dwell on what’s ahead—in fact, she says it scares her too much to even think about it. Instead, she usually submerges herself in now, living in the moment, seizing the day with both hands.

“What d’you mean?” Paige replies, voice soft, almost afraid to shatter whatever fragile thing Dani is holding onto.

Dani shrugs, her shoulders rising and falling with a casualness that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Like… what we’ll be like when we’re older,” Dani elaborates, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “We’re starting middle school now, and I always hear things about friends drifting apart. I just wonder if, when we’re older—like high school or something—if we’ll still be friends. Or if things will have changed.” Dani keeps her eyes out on the horizon, expression thoughtful as Paige gazes at her.

Paige feels an odd tension in her stomach at the thought of losing Dani, of the possibility of their friendship fading away. It’s too painful, too much that would be taken at once, to even consider. Dani is Paige’s constant, her anchor in a world that sometimes feels too big and too overwhelming for the eleven-year-old. The idea that they could ever grow apart feels like a betrayal of everything they’ve ever promised each other.

“We’ll always be friends,” she says with confidence. Because, in what world could they not be? “Nothing will ever be able to change that, ‘kay?”

Dani finally looks back at Paige now, her expression softening, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Slowly, the seriousness begins to seep out of her. “Promise?”

Paige doesn’t hesitate, reaching out to hook her pinky around Dani’s. It’s a childish gesture that fits the friendship between two young girls. But this time, it’s true—a vow that they’re both determined to keep.

“Promise,” Paige echoes, squeezing Dani’s pinky with her own.

As they sit there, side-by-side on the playground, the world feels small and manageable, just for a little while longer. And, here and now, Paige allows herself to believe that nothing with ever come between her and Dani—no matter what.

PAIGE BLINKS, the memory fading just as their promise did. It hurts all over to think about the fact that she was so sure that nothing would ever come between them, that their friendship was absolutely unbreakable. But now, here they are, strangers but not at all, bigger walls being built between them each and every day.

The weight of that lost connection presses down on Paige’s chest, making it hard to breathe. Her lungs flare in and out. She wants—needs—to do something, to find a way to bridge the gap between them. But she just doesn’t know how, the silence and static between them far too heavy. And the fear that she might never get the chance to again is almost enough to make Paige’s lungs go out completely.

Mrs. Donovan’s voice drones on in the background, but Paige can’t focus on the words. All she can see is the back of Dani’s head, the way her highlights illuminate her brown hair at certain angles, the way she shifts uncomfortable in her seat every now and then, probably feeling the weight of the blonde’s gaze tearing into her back. It’s almost as if an invisible barrier has been built between them, one that Paige can’t tear down no matter how hard she tries.

Finally, the bell rings, signaling the end of class. Paige watches as Dani gathers her things quickly, avoiding eye contact with the blonde as she hurries out of the room. Paige lingers there for a second, heart sinking slightly as she watches Dani slip out the door, her back rigid, her steps quick and purposeful.

Paige feels a mixture of relief, dread, and—oddly enough—excitement. Relief that first period is over, dread at the thought of facing Dani again. But, at the same time, excitement about seeing Dani again. Because if this is the only time Paige can see her, if AP Lit is truly all Paige will ever be able to get out of the brunette again, she’ll take it. As pathetic as it sounds, she’ll take as much—or as little, she supposes—of Dani as she can get.

THE FOOTBALL game is the first big event of the back to school season, and Paige stands there in the student section with Thaliah and Amaya. It’s not like Paige has any particular interest in football; of course, she’s always preferred basketball. But she’s been in need of a distraction, something big and exciting enough to pull her out of the unfamiliar melancholy that’s settled over her, and it seems like a high school football game under the lights is the perfect choice.

The student section is alive with energy, the kids screaming and chanting things that they probably shouldn’t be as the game kicks off. Paige does her best to lose herself in the excitement. She screams along with her friends, sweating slightly under the setting sun, grabbing a Hawaiian lei excitedly when KK offers her one. It’s beach theme tonight—Paige tried to fit into it, wearing sunglasses and some beach button up with a white crop top, the lei helping to add to it.

But as Paige’s eyes drift along the players, along the field, along the track—her eyes land on her and it’s almost as if any and all excitement that had settled inside of Paige is whisked away, just like that. Dani stands on the sidelines, between the line of football players and the cheerleaders, her camera clicking away. It’s not like this is a new thing—Dani did this last year, for yearbook, and Paige shouldn’t be surprised to see her doing it again this year.

The Callan girl has always been passionate about photography, and it’s one of the many things that Paige has learned to love about her through the years. Paige knows that Dani has a way of almost losing herself in the click of her camera, finding beauty in the smallest details, the most mundane moments captured and crafted into something beguiling. Dani used to show Paige all the photos she’d taken, scrolling through the storage on the camera. The two of them would huddle over the device, and Paige would help her best friend pick the best photos for whatever project she was working on in yearbook.

And then, of course, there’s the other memory card that Dani has—the one that Paige knows is labeled “P.” It’s simple—all of the scattered photos that Dani has taken of Paige over the years, all put together on one little storage device. Dani told Paige several times that it was her greatest piece of work, merely because Paige was the star of it. Yet, for a while, Dani didn’t let the blonde look into it, keeping the memory card hidden away. But, eventually, Paige’s curiosity got the better of her and she’d found the card and scrolled through the photos. There were some from when Dani first got into photography, when they were much younger, with chubbier cheeks and more crooked smiles. A good amount was the photos Dani got of Paige court-side, some for the yearbook, some just reserved for the two of them. And then there was the candid ones—Paige remembers scrolling through them, and the look in her own eyes that stared at Dani from behind the camera… God, she remembers thinking that it seems she was whipped from the very beginning.

Paige’s heart clenches at the thought of that memory card, and wishes she was a photographer so she could have one of Dani. She’s got a fair few—or, well, a lot—of photos of Dani on her phone, but it’s just not the same. Faintly, Paige wonders what Dani’s done with the “P” card. Maybe she threw it away, crushed it into tiny little pieces, tossing it into the trash like she did her and Paige’s friendship. Or maybe—maybe—she’s kept it. Paige hopes it’s the latter; she imagines Dani, late at night, thinking of Paige like Paige has been thinking of her, and then going through the photos of her, wishing she could take back everything she said.

Paige almost rolls her eyes at her own thoughts. She’s almost sure Dani threw it away.

And then, the blonde is pulled out of her own head by the sound of the crowd erupting into a series of cheers, the band beginning to play. She glances at the field, then at the scoreboard, realizing she’s just missed a touchdown. Thaliah and Amaya and all the students around Paige are jumping up and down, chanting for Hopkins. Paige joins in, trying to drown herself in it, doing her best to put her mind to rest and just have some fun—she’s always been so good at that; she wishes it wasn’t so hard to do recently.

When the final whistle blows, signaling the end of the game, Hopkins pulls through with a narrow win. The crowd is excited for their first victory of the season, screaming those “start the buses” and “who’s your daddy” chants that Paige has always found ridiculously hilarious. Eventually, everyone begins to disperse, and Paige stands with Thaliah and Amaya, the three of them following the rush of students leaving the bleachers.

Amaya quickly tells Paige and Thaliah that she has to go to the bathroom, rushing towards the building. The other two girls stand around patiently, people watching their peers. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long until Paige’s eyes once again find Dani’s frame. The brunette is packing up her camera gear, hauling a small duffel on her shoulder.

Thaliah follows the blonde’s gaze, nudging her gently. “You should go talk to her,” she says encouragingly, nodding towards Dani.

Paige shakes her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.” It’s true; she remembers their last conversation—the cold look in Dani’s eye, the forced indifference, the river she rushed to drown Paige away.

“You’ve been miserable,” Thaliah says, point-blank. Paige’s eyes shift to her left, where the tanned girl stands beside her, brows furrowing in almost offense. “Don’t side-eye me like that—you know you’ve been miserable. And I think you’ve got nothing to lose these days when it comes to Dani, so you might as well just try.”

Paige doesn’t answer, eyes merely locking back onto her best friend. Without thinking, almost like her legs are moving of their own accord, the blonde starts walking towards Dani. She doesn’t know what she’s going to say, doesn’t know if Dani will let even let a word slip out of her mouth. But Thaliah’s right: it’s worth a shot. Paige can’t leave without even trying.

As she approaches, she watches Dani glance up, eyes meeting Paige’s. It lasts for only the briefest of seconds before Dani plainly averts her gaze, eyes anywhere but on the blonde walking up to her. Paige feels her heart stutter against her rib cage, threatening to sink at the sight, but, nevertheless, she keeps going, only stopping when she’s a few feet away from the brunette.

“Dani,” Paige murmurs, her voice soft, almost pleading. It’s all she can say; she doesn’t know what else to say.

The basketball player watches as her best friend’s body goes rigid, her hands stilling on her camera bag. It takes a second, but eventually Dani looks up, meets Paige’s gaze, brown on blue. There’s an unnameable emotion swirling within the Callan girl’s irises, and Paige wants nothing more than to step closer, to look deeper in them, to decipher exactly what’s going on in her best friend’s head. But she doesn’t. Paige stays rooted in place. And, for one, stupid moment, she believes that Dani might actually say something, that maybe this could be the first step in their repair.

But it doesn’t last.

“Dani!” multiple voices echo the name from the pair’s right. Paige turns to see Beau Hudson, still clad in his football gear and eyeblack, grinning and waving at Dani—his girlfriend, the blonde thinks, sickly—beckoning her over. He seeps with the same overconfidence he’s had the twelve years that Paige has known him, and it makes her blood boil over slightly. By his side is Serena Corren—a cheerleader that also happens to be Beau’s best friend, who’s famously known for her sharp tongue and dismissive attitude—also grinning and waving. Serena and Beau stand with a group that’s more than excited and impatient for Dani to join them.

Paige’s stomach twists at the sight. It’s clear that her best friend has integrated herself into this new crowd, one that Paige has always found superficial and unkind.

“I have to go,” Dani mutters to Paige, not meeting the blonde’s eyes. She slings her bag over her shoulder before hurrying off to her new friends, leaving Paige standing there, aching all over.

Paige watches Dani go, feeling like the weight of the world is pressing on her shoulders, weighing her down. She wants to scream, to cry, to do something to make Dani see that they don’t have to be like this, that they can fix whatever has gone wrong. But she can’t. So, instead, she just stands there, staring, missing her best friend.

Yes, Paige misses her. God, she misses her so much that it fucking hurts—it hurts her insides, her outsides, her bones, her skin. It makes her feel all wrong. Every part of her aches with the absence of Dani Callan, the loss of everything they’ve had. She misses Dani’s smile, the gleam in her eyes when she’d look at Paige, the giggles she’d let out whenever the point guard made a stupid joke. She misses the way Dani used to make her feel—alive, whole, like she could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, as long as Dani was by her side.

But now all of that’s just—gone. And that’s clear as day as Paige watches Beau Hudson wrap his arm around Dani before pressing a firm kiss to her mouth.

She’s going to be sick.

Paige feels a hand on her arm, a head resting on her shoulder. It grounds her a little. Thaliah mumbles, “It’s gonna be okay, P.”

Paige doesn’t have the heart to say it, but she knows that’s not true. There is nothing okay with the fact that Dani is slipping—or, she supposes, has already slipped—through her fingers. There is nothing okay with the loneliness and pain that comes with it.

Paige doesn’t really know if anything will ever be okay again.

[justananxiousweirdo]

CAN YOU DO JOOST X AGGU X READER FLUFF HC / IMAGES?? PLEASE IM OBSESSED

YESSS OFC I CAN (hopefully)

Side note: I appreciate everyone who’s been interacting with my channel. I love you guys :)

Joost x Aggu x Reader HC

Joost absolutely loves cuddle time. Anytime you or Aggu are laying or sitting back Joost always jumps at the chance to lay with you. Your and Aggu’s camera rolls are filled with pictures of Joost snuggled into either of your sides. He loves to lay his head on your or Aggu’s chests. Whenever he lays on Aggu Aggu will play with his hair soothing Joost to sleep.

Aggu’s the type to play a claw machine or carnival game a thousand times if you or Joost see a prize you like. That man will be concentrated as fuck trying his hardest to get you or Joost some stuffed animal that probably costs five bucks but Aggu spent thirty just playing the damn game over and over again.

After begging the boys to bake with you over and over they eventually gave in. You cheered as the three of you headed out to grab a few missing ingredients. As soon as you got back home you raced to preheat the oven and get started. Within five minutes all hell broke loose. The kitchen was an absolute mess, they’re was flour everywhere, Joost had dumped a bowl of dry ingredients over top of Aggu’s head because he thought it would be funny. In retaliation Aggu poured the rest of the bag of flour on Joost, but the second you tried to scold them they both declined to team up against you. Both boys decided to grab the closet dry ingredient to them and completely covered you. For the rest of the night the three of you had a food fight and got no baking done.

They both have a million pet names they use. They have nicknames both in English and their native languages. Aggu usually calls you shantz, liebe, Prinzessin, Shöne, or mein leben. He usually calls Joost babe, prinz, Süße, Kuschelwanze, or liebling. Joost usually calls you perziken, liefde, or Schatje. He usually calls Aggu Aggie, honing, or knap. If you don’t speak German or Dutch it took a lot of begging from you for them to tell you what the nicknames meant, obviously you had an idea but you were never certain until they finally told you.

They’ve both made songs for you and each other that they’ll never release because they like to keep some things private and they think it’s more meaningful that way. And if you make music as well you do the same for them.

They’re both the type to ask for five more minutes. You’ll wake up and not want to just lie in bed all day so you’ll try to stand up just for both men to hold you down muttering something along the lines of “five more minutes” or “its too early”.

You three have a lot of movie and game nights. Either you three cuddle up on the couch watching a movie (that took twenty minutes for the three of you to agree on) with blankets and snacks. Or you all let out your competitive sides and get out some cards and poker chips, kisses are also accepted as a form of currency in your guys’ game nights. After all it isn’t about the money it’s about totally destroying your boyfriends in every game you play. They always accuse you of cheating, but that’s never the case, esp when Joost runs out of Monopoly money fifteen minutes in and pays rent with small kisses. Who are you and Aggu to disqualify the blonde from playing?

You three always have the most fun on dates, you go to a fancy dinner, a walk in the park, get some ice cream, that sort of thing. It’s almost always a simple date but you three somehow always manage to make it the funnest night ever. Every date tops the one before it.

Haters definitely get to Joost, he doesn’t like seeing comments talking about how much people don’t like him so sometimes after Joost has been scrolling through those kinds of comments he goes to you and Aggu for comfort, after all you two are the only two who make him feel truly loved and safe.

After Joost got disqualified from Eurovision he made it your three’s hotel room as fast as possible and just collapsed on the floor crying. When you and Aggu made it home to see a puffy eyed and red faced Joost you both knelt on the floor next to him doing your best to soothe him until he could speak. As soon as he said what happened Aggu threatens to march down there and beat the shit out of the people who hurt his boyfriend.

The last two are a little sad but I hope I did good. I don’t get to write a lot of fluff because I don’t think I can do it very well but I’m such a sappy person, a true hopeless romantic.

[marleyybluu]

Four and Counting

husband!Oscar Diaz x fem!black!reader

Word count: 4.4k (oops)

Warnings: everything is fluff, the cutest couple alive, another pregnancy, hints at abortion (but supportingly?), Oscar being the cutest fucking husband, self-indulgent asf cant lie like I want be in love like this

if i missed any lmk

AN: yall do not know how long this mf has been in my drafts omg I finally finished. This fic is just drowning in love. No smut 🤷🏾‍♀️. A bit rushed in certain places but it all fits pretty well in my opinion. this is not the end of the series but its like the end of the main chapters. there will be lore on the couple obvi, updates on the kids and the family as a whole bcus i am obsessed. hope yall enjoy.

You didn't know how it happened, you blinked and soon there were four. You had four kids running around your home filling it with innocent joy and laughter, and the occasional attitude. It was a full house and a busy life, but it could be enjoyable. You'd become a stay-at-home mom. At first, you weren't sure if you'd be able to manage, you loved your job a lot and worked extremely hard for it but with your growing family, your kids needed you more.

With Oscar opening a second restaurant you thought it'd be a good idea to bring up what's been gnawing away at you and he tells you that he's behind you no matter what path you choose. You put in your letter of resignation and bid your co-workers a teary-eyed farewell with promises to visit as much as they can. You had to admit it was a nice break, you didn't have to wake up as early, you weren't on your feet as much and the house was nice and quiet for a few hours when your children were either in school or at daycare. But then you had baby Rosie and your house had returned to a screaming, hollering mess.

She was a loud one and very expressive, babbled and cooed to anyone who would listen. "And then what happens after that?" You say laying next to her gently stroking her hair. She kicks her feet with excitement and responds in her usual baby language. "Oh my goodness." You respond. You could do this all day. You hated to admit it but you missed the baby stage so much and you were grateful for your little one. You'd been lounging around all day, only getting up to shower when she had fallen asleep and the occasional time when you needed to grab her bottle.

You pepper her chunky face in kisses and she squeals with happiness. "Que hermosa." You giggle. You two are so wrapped up in your world you don't even hear when the door unlocks and Oscar strolls in, he decides to check in on you since everything at the restaurant was going fine today. He notices the obvious vacancy of your presence downstairs and stumbles into the kitchen thinking you were feeding Rosie but he was wrong. He hears his baby's infamous noises from upstairs and smiles following the sweet noises. He creeps in on you two.

His head lolls to the side and rests on the door frame. He'd seen you like this many times (clearly) and it never got old. The way you lovingly interact with each child at any stage in their life, it was sweet to witness you give the same sweet eyes to Rafa at his big age as you did when he was a baby. Just a gentle reminder that he chose the right woman to marry, the best one to make a mother.

Rosie turns her little head and screams when her eyes land on her father. "Hola, mi corazoncito." He coos entering the room matching the same excitement as his baby which causes her to become even more riled up. He scoops her up and holds her in the air and all you can do is watch and grin like the Cheshire Cat. He brings her down and kisses her cheeks. "Cómo estás, mi mariposa?" He asks Rosie and she nuzzles her forehead in his cheek. Her nonverbal way of saying she missed him. Oscar takes his place next to you on the bed. "How are you, mama?"

You pucker your lips and he smiles dropping a kiss. You pout at how quick it was but quickly subsides when he gives you a forehead kiss. "I'm good. Sleepy. Hungry. Missing you."

"Missed you too, that's why I came home. And I brought some food from work."

You squinted. "Who cooked it?"

He chuckled. "Jason."

"Yes!" You fist pump. "Jason makes the best fucking food I swear."

Oscar's head seems to tilt even more, he's insulted by your statement but you smile sheepishly placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Not as amazing as you do." He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. Rosie babbles as her little reminder that she's still in the room. "No one forgot you chica" He affirms giving her some more smooches. "Let's go get mommy her food."

You sit up and stretch; some much-needed cracks are heard via your aching bones, and when your arms come down, you feel much looser and less tense than before. "It's okay, iré contigo." (I'll come with you.)

The three of you plop down the stairs and you part ways as Oscar heads to the kitchen while you shuffle to the living room and drop onto the couch, your lounging was short-lived when the doorbell rang. You huff getting back up on your feet. You swing the door open with a mean mug on your face until your eyes land on your mom and your features immediately soften.

"Hi, Mommy." You smile reaching out for her. "Hi sweetie, how are you?"

"I'm great," You pull her inside and close the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the rack nearby, her shoes slip off her feet and she places those next to Spooky's on the mat. "Came to visit, figured you'd need some... company..." She trails off and— not so subtly— stretches out her neck to see if she can spot the baby. "Mhm." You say crossing your arms, you call bullshit.

"She's in the kitchen with Spooky."

And just like that, your mother leaves you in her dust. You hear her high-pitched, "Hiiiii GG's babyyyyy, helloooo." And you can't help but smile. Your mom always seemed to become happier with each grandchild you produced.

You begin to feel left out when you hear all the commotion in the kitchen so you decide to join them. Your daughter has your mom's nose in her small fist while your mom blows raspberries in her little tummy, she erupts with laughter and you catch a glimpse of Oscar with nothing but heart eyes for his baby girl. You sneak over to him and slide your arms around his abdomen, he drops his arm over your shoulder and draws you close. He plants a kiss on your head. The microwave beeps behind you signalling that whatever was in there had finished heating up. Your eyes widen when the aroma of cheese hit your senses. "Is that lasagna?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He made a little dish for you, told him you've been craving it lately."

You squeal with excitement as you take the hot dish out of the microwave, you set it on the counter and danced over to the drawers in hot search for a fork, your successful in finding one and greedily stick it inside the soft noodles that were jam packed with delicious ingredients. You take one bite and practically faint at the taste.

"Just needs one more thing." You think out loud, you hustle over to the pantry and grab a bag of barbecue chips, you snag a handful and crack them in your hand, sprinkling them on top. Oscar stands there... confused.

"Girl, what the hell is that?" Your mom asks equally appalled.

You shrug and take another bite. "It's good though." You muffle with a full mouth.

"I love you." Oscar sighs and you laugh at his adoration for anything you do, you blow him a kiss before taking another bite. You don't see it but your mom has her eye on you with a very interesting theory brewing in her head. Your husband's phone rings and he excuses himself to answer it leaving you alone with your mom and Rosie, who is quiet and happy on her grandmother's chest, her little eyes slowly closing with sleep.

You try your best not to make too much noise while you reach for more-

"Are you pregnant again?"

You nearly choke on your saliva at the ridiculous question. You quickly shake your head. "No!? Are you nuts? I just had her and she is the last one." You assure but your mom isn't believing it. "This little concoction says otherwise."

You roll your eyes. "I just... like pasta and chips... together."

It did sound ridiculous.

"Since when?"

"Like... a month ago..."

She sucks her teeth. "Mi amor, I'm telling you, I think you're pregnant."

This was insane, this was an insane conversation to be having. You were one hundred percent sure there was nothing and no one in your belly-- just the mere thought of having two under two was giving you the heebie-jeebies. "I'm just saying-"

You groan like the irritated teenager you once were, "Ay Mama, no más charlas de bebé, por favor." (No more baby talk, please.)

She agrees to ease off the topic but it remains in the back of her mind.

-- --

Later that day after Oscar's gathered the others from school, you sneak out of the house to do some grocery shopping. It was a bit of time for yourself, a time when you didn't have to keep your eye on your tiny little humans. You go through the aisles for the essentials and when that's done you browse for treats and snacks for your kids (that you and Oscar will eventually munch on as well.)

You cautiously approach the next aisle that is stacked with condoms, contraceptives and pregnancy tests. You meant to move, your hands ready to push the cart forward but your feet are firmly planted on the floor. You sigh and turn in, quickly grabbing a box and dumping it in the cart as though it's not for you. "She better be fucking wrong." You mutter to yourself.

-- --

With all kids fed, bathed and in bed before twelve it allows you to have the bathroom to yourself for a while. You wedge the knuckle of your index finger between your two rows of teeth, you stare at the box and sigh. "Please prove her wrong." You whisper to no one in particular. You pop open the box and rip open the wrapping of the test. One original and one digital. You sit on the toilet and do what you've done a hundred times, you pee on the sticks and set them aside until the timer goes off.

You clean yourself up and wash your hands, you know better than to just stand there and watch the sticks waiting for that fate-sealing answer but you go against yourself and stare. You're in a trance until there's a knock at the door, it startled you and you clutch your non-existent pearls for dear life. "Que?"

Oscar asks, "You good? Didn't need company tonight?" He's referring to your commonly shared showers which, now that you think about it, is probably one of the reasons you're in this predicament again!

"No, it's not that. I'm just..."

You huff and unlock the door swinging it open with displeasure on your face, your arms crossed as you nod over to the tests on the counter. His eyes follow your actions and pop out when he sees them. "How-"

"Mom said it was weird that I ate the lasagna like that."

He chuckled. "Didn't want to say anything." 

You whine saying, "It's not funny, I just thought it was a change in my palette or something, I mix random foods all the time. I-" You searched for every excuse you could find. Oscar's face softens at the worry in your voice. "I just had Rosie." You sigh sounding depleted. You turn your back to the tests when you hear that all too familiar sound. You squeeze your eyes shut, if you don't look you won't know the answer and you can go about your merry way. Your husband offers to look for you and leans over. You hear the quietest gasp he's ever uttered and you know. You spin around to look at them yourself.

Positive. Both of them show positive.

You look up at Spooky and he's already looking at you waiting for your reaction so he can curate his own. "How do you feel about it?"

You shrug. You truly didn't know, you didn't even have words. Your throat was dry. You pick up one of them and look at it. And you feel nothing. Empty. Just waiting for a sense of gratitude to come across and for some reason, you can't seem to produce it. You put the test down and leave.

Spooky's still standing there with his heart in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should've listened to you, that two was enough, and then three and four. He's after you, right on your heels as you enter your bedroom. You sit on the bed and fall back onto the sheets, you cover your eyes and shake your head at yourself and him. "I just had Rosie." You repeat to yourself. And then it happens. A tear slips and as quick as you are to wipe it, he knows you like the back of his hand— your breathing gets choppy and choked, you sniffle. The bed dips beside you and the sound of the sheets ruffling as he lays down.

"Háblame." (Talk to me)

You take a deep breath. You can be honest. "I don't know how I feel. I'm not sad but I'm not happy. I just hoped Rosie would be a little older. They all have good age gaps and- Oh god, what if they don't want another sibling? And Rosie and I spend so much time together, they just got used to her-- Emilia was so clingy when I had her, she felt so left out and-and-"

Oscar presses his hand over your thigh. "Cariño. Respirar. Por favor.

You breathe shakily. "It's okay not to know how to feel. If this is not what you want... I'm here for you, your moms here... the kids are here. We have more than enough, Sí?"

You nod. He reaches over and pulls you into him, you rest your forehead on his chest while he rubs smooth circles on your back. "We have some time for you to think about it right? It's your world mi amor, we're just living in it. I got you no matter what."

"Spooky."

"Mhm."

"Thank you."

He smiles and kisses your head. "It's my job baby."

— — You'd been hiding your belly from everyone, even the kids. It was easy for the most part because you only wore baggy clothes and they made you look a little large anyway but then there were not so subtle signs— like the heavy breathing from doing just about anything, and your walk? Oh, your walk was not normal no matter how hard you tried. So you decide to come clean to your kids and other close family during a little gathering that Spooky's brother, Cesar, was hosting. Cesar was the only person who knew and you two asked if it'd be okay to announce it tonight.

He was fine with it, excited actually.

Your hands shake. You were cautious in deciding on having this baby, it took you a while to feel anything. At first, it was uncertainty, did you want another? Would you be crushed if you didn't have it?

But as the weeks passed you couldn't help but fall in love with the growth, the bigger you got the giddier you became. Modelling in front of the mirror any chance you got, and when all the kids were asleep you'd talk to your belly and giggle with every shift they made.

"Listo?"  He asks and you nod confidently. Oscar whistles over to Cesar giving him a thumbs up. Cesar turns down the music to gather everyone's attention. "I just want to thank everyone for coming out, it's been a while since we've all been in one place, right?"

The crowd mumbles in agreement. "But it's great to see everyone in good health and good spirits—" He raises his Corona bottle and the crowd follows with their drinks (including the kids and their juice boxes) "Salud." He smiles.

"Salud." The crowd repeats. You clear your throat and enthusiastically say, "Oh let me see if I can get a picture. Everyone gets in."

They shuffle into one pile as best they can, you grab your phone and hold it landscape, you press record and say, "Alright everybody in... great, now saaaay... Y/n and Spooky are having another babyyyy!"

There were collective gasps, the word "what!?" Being thrown around in every language. "Excuse me!?" Your mom hollers. You unbutton your cardigan and turn to the side having worn a tight dress on purpose. "Surpriiiiiise." You sing out.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Jasmine screams stretching her arms out for you, you gasp and playfully smack her hand. "Not in front of my kids, puta!"

She tells you to shut up and hug her, your mom joins in and soon the children and in that moment it hits how loved and supported you are by everyone around you. This was your village and it was a damn good one too.

Oscar's friends dap him up and congratulate him. They hug you as well and whisper that they hope it's another girl. They loved spoiling your daughters. Anything they asked for the boys were sure to buy it no problema.

"Well, actually," You begin to say. "We know what we're having."

Rafa, your oldest comes up to you. "Is it a boy?" His eyes gloss over with the hope that you would say yes, he'd been hoping that Emilia (your third) was going to be a boy but he lucked out. You had an idea. You hunch over to match his eye level. "You see that cake over there." You whisper and he nods. "Papi and I were going to cut it, but I think you should get the first slice."

He shrugs and you walk him over to the white cream frosted cake. You and Oscar help him hold the knife and carefully slide the blade into the spongey treat making one incision and you help him make another. He pushes the knife under to take the slice out and plops it on his plate, he reaches for a fork when he looks down to see the inside was blue.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved with the understanding this was his moment. He looks up at you. "You're having a boy!?"

You nod with tears spilling over and ruining your makeup. "I am."

He puts the plate down and hugs you tightly and that's when the crowd goes wild. "Thank you, Mommy." He sobs which makes you cry even more. "Oh, you're welcome sweetie."

— — Nine months had sped past you and it seemed as if it was just yesterday that you found out you were pregnant. Now, you lay on a hospital bed, covered over by a few blankets to help with post-partum shivers, your jaw rattling and fingers dancing involuntarily. But that wasn't your main focus.

Oscar hovered over you staring at the sleeping newborn in your arms. He made the cutest noises while he nuzzled against your chest. Your finger ghosts over his nose and he reacts by moving his head and sighing. "Are you sick of me already, mi hijo?(my son)" You joke nudging him with your nose. "You get used to her." Oscar chimes in and you suck your teeth hitting him as hard as you could. "Cállate culo."(Shut up, ass)

"Hitting me in front of my son?"

"And I'll do it again."

He smiles and leans down to kiss you. "You know I like you a little feisty, mami."

You sigh, so in love with your new baby, in love with your husband— just filled with overpouring affection. You can't stop staring at your new son and your husband couldn't stop gazing at either of you. He'd been in this room over and over and he swore up and down you made it look so easy, that you looked like a goddess bringing new air and life into this world. Even though you thought you looked like a monster from the swamp.

Oscar tells you in a loving tone. "You're doing an amazing job, seriously, you... you're just amazing."

You blink rapidly to keep tears from spilling over. When you met this man he was so rough and tough, such a brute that it seemed impossible to get him to even admit that he liked you, but under all that fake-cold persona, was the gentlest giant and the biggest sweetheart you'd ever met—a man who spreads nothing but positivity around you and your children.

"I'm so happy, I met you." He mutters. You were his wife, the mother of his children and his best friend rolled into one and that's all he wanted out of this life. You look up at him with glossy eyes. "I'm happy I met you too."

You share a kiss as a tear slips out, you just can't hold them back any longer. He kisses your forehead as his thumb swipes over your cheek. Your attention is drawn back to your son when he begins wiggling in your hold, you press your nose against his hair taking a whiff of that fresh baby smell. As you soak in the presence of your child, your husband's phone buzzes against the fabric of the diaper bag, he looks over and your mom's name catches his attention. He looks to you for some sort of permission and your brows furrow together. "It's okay."

He rushes over to answer, and just then your nurse walks in with a smile on her face. "Just came to check on mommy and baby." She announces.

"Ok... yeah, I'll meet you guys downstairs... bye." Oscar hangs up and looks over at you. "Your parents are here, with the kids. I'll just be back okay?"

"Mhm." You hum. He gives you a quick kiss before he speeds out of the room. The nurse smirks as she helps you adjust yourself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position, asking you if you'd like your son to be put back in the bassinet to which you respond yes and she gently takes him. "I apologize if this is forward but... I've seen a lot of couples in here and let me tell you, I've never seen anything like you two. He is so attentive."

You giggle. "Thank you. I just got really lucky with him."

A few minutes had passed and she had finished her check-up letting you know that she'd be back in a bit for another check-in. Once she left that's when your family, quietly, barged in. Oscar approaches you first with a sleeping Rosie in his arms and you happily reach for her and coddle her in your arms. Rafael, Elliana and Emilia gently charged over to you, shuffling off their shoes and finding their places on the bed with you. You greeted them as best as you could, with restricted movement all you could do was reach for their faces. Your parents and Oscar stand in the background of it all observing you in your motherly nature and Oscar can't fight the grin that has been plastered on his face since the day he met you.

"Baby." Emilia chimes in drawing everyone's attention to her now. "Yeah, mira, mommy had the baby."

Rafael seemed enamoured by the presence of his new sibling. He loved his sisters, you knew that, but by the looks of it-- this would be a special bond. "Rafa, would you like to hold him first?" Oscar asks.

He nodded eagerly and readied himself by sitting up straight and folding his arms. Oscar removes your son from his bassinet and carefully places him in Rafa's arms. The baby was a bit squirmy, upset that he'd been disturbed but with the soothing 'shhhh' from his mother's lips he settled down. Your two girls surround their brothers with curiosity.

Emilia giggles. "Hi, cutie."

"He's so tiny," Eliana mutters. Your parents finally make their way over to you after letting you have your moment with the kids. They congratulate you and your dad holds up a Chipotle bag and you beamed. "Thank you, this hospital food sucks." You whisper.

They attempted to take Rosie from you but you assured them it was fine, having missed her snuggles anyway. "Want me to feed you?" Your husband asks and you snicker shaking your head. "Está bien papito, I'll eat when I'm ready. But thank you."

— — After all the kids had their turn holding the baby their attention spans had turned to you and their father, telling you everything that had happened since you left the house.

"And then Ellie licked the cookie and put it back in my bowl," Rafa whines and you hold back a laugh. "Eliana you do not do that, that's gross."

She shrugs and nuzzles closer to her grandfather on the couch who is causing a ruckus with all his snoring. Your mom nudges him awake and he hits his famous line, "I'm not sleeping, I just closed my eyes."

"Think it's time for us to go." Your mom says. "Um.." Rafa chimes. "Is it okay if I stay?"

"I- yeah, I guess so." You answer. Oscar says that you'll keep Rosie since she has now found a new sleep space in his arms. Your mom carries a sleeping Emilia and your dad carries Eliana on his back. They say their goodbyes and are out the door.

— —

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Rafael had fallen asleep on the couch while Rosie, who'd only woken up to ear and fell back into slumber, lay under her older brother's arm. You sigh contently as you gaze at them.

"Did you ever think when we met at that laundromat, that we'd be here?" Oscar mumbled as he held your baby boy, tracing his finger along his little nose. You turn to him. You shrug.

"Maybe with one kid... two.... But not five." You joked. He chuckled.

"Did you?"

He nods. "I knew you were gonna be my girl from the moment I picked up that sexy red bra you dropped-"

"Spookyyyy." You gasped gently hitting his arm.

He laughs. "Que? Man, once I saw those cups I started barking."

"You are so fucking stupid."

He shrugs. "I know. But I'm stupid in love with you."

You playfully rolled your eyes at his corny, yet sweet, line.

"I'm stupid in love with you too."

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are appreciated. hopefully, I'll be back a whole lot sooner. peace and love

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

Who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo @missdforever

[thetriplets3]

Can I send a request? Maybe reader x matt cuddling and reader lays head on stomach or switched around? Just cuddling fluff pls I need it

if you want more fluff/ comfort written send as many requests as you want to my inbox its open (and empty)

❝𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞❞

it's been a week to say the least. between work and school i haven’t had a second where my mind wasn’t occupied with the next thing i needed to do. i haven’t been able to sleep, tossing and turning unable to get comfortable as i let my worries eat away at me. i’m exhausted. constantly running around doing a million things at once just trying to please everyone.

what made my week even worse was that matt and his brothers went home to boston so i was only able to call and facetime him and we couldn’t talk for long because of the time difference with me getting home from work so late and having to be up early in the morning. it sucks. all i wanted when i came home from work was to see matt and be with him and i couldn’t.

with a heavy sigh i straighten up from being slumped against the steering wheel finally deciding i should go inside and get ready for bed just to repeat the same cycle tomorrow. fumbling with the lock i groan, eyes heavy with exhaustion i make my way inside haphazardly discarding my shoes, jacket, and bag by the door. my sore tired feet carrying me to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. i sit on one of the barstool scrolling through my stories as i drink my water. i can’t help but feel sad when i see matt and his brother’s stories. they must’ve taken a trip to vermont, matt’s favorite place. it warms my heart seeing him there knowing how much he loves it there but i wish i was there with him. refilling my glass of water i shut off the lights and head to my room.

opening my bedroom door i still. in front of me i see my room dimly lit up by the tiny string lights the litter my walls and matt under my covers with a big soft smile adorned on his lips. my mouth forms a gentle pout at the scene in front of me as my eyes begin to water. just what i needed was here.

“hi sweetheart”

“what are you doing here? i thought you were just in vermont?

“that would be nick on my story. i knew you had a long week i wanted to fly back early and be with you. now you gonna come cuddle or just keep staring?”

“ah ah gotta change no outside clothes on the bed you know this. i’ll be quick”

changing into comfier clothes i make my way to the bed, to matt whose propped up against my headboard with my duvet lifted eager for me to crawl under and join him. he waste no time and pulls me towards him letting me get comfy. i lie my head on his stomach with my arms wrapped around his torso holding on as if he’s disappear if i let go. one of his hands rests in my hair gently massaging it while the other dances up and down my back relaxing me even more.

“i missed you so much you have no idea how happy i am that you’re here. i love you baby”

“anything for you honey i love you. get some rest i’m here i’m not leaving”

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @strniolo @luvsturniolo

[xothatnerdykid]

love you like oxygen

Your pro hero boyfriend has barely been home the past few weeks because of his hectic schedule, so you decide to surprise him when's patrolling one night and steal some of his time (as well as a few kisses). Aizawa Shouta x fem! reader. Sliiiight NSFW (definitely suggestive, bordering on foreplay). 1.3k words.

Dating Shouta could be hard sometimes. His life is a constant juggle between being a UA teacher by day, a pro hero by night, and a single dad to 23 kids on top of being your boyfriend. So, of course, you understand it can be challenging to find some quality time with him.

Although you’ve only been together for less than a year, you don't really go out on dates anymore. Because when you used to eat out at quiet restaurants or take a walk through the park, he usually couldn't make it through the whole date without getting an urgent phone call about school or his hero work, and then having to excuse himself. Eventually, you get so tired of having to finish your dinner by yourself or go home alone that you start spending most of your free time waiting for him in his apartment.

Most days he gets home at a somewhat reasonable hour, all things considered, and you happily spend your time together eating the dinner you cooked for him and just lounge around and talk until you fall asleep. Then you like to lie in bed in the morning and watch him gear up and get ready, even helping him shave or share a coffee together before he has to kiss you goodbye while you start getting ready for work, too. It’s nice, you think, to share all these mundane moments of everyday life with him.

But he’s been coming home so late the past few days that you’re usually already asleep. And the only thing you wake up to is a plate of breakfast on the table and a little text telling you to have a great day. 

After two weeks, you decide you’re tired of missing him and get off work early to surprise him. 

You briefly wonder if it was even a good idea to come looking for him when he’s out on patrol, given the hectic (and dangerous) nature of his work. You didn't want to get in the way or distract him too much from anything important he might be doing, especially not if it meant putting anyone at risk.

So you call Hizashi to ask if he might know where your boyfriend is, and you tell him about your little plan. He says it should be fine if you catch him by the time he’s usually on break, and he helps you track Shouta’s patrol route for the night. You thank him before you hang up and head out. 

_________________________________________

Although you had meant to surprise him, you suppose he’s just too good at his job to let you. You startle a little when he catches you, and you turn around to face him. He’s hanging upside down from a fire escape with his goggles obscuring his eyes. 

You don’t doubt that it’d be an intimidating sight to anyone else; this tall, imposing man, blending in so well with the dark and moving so quickly and quietly in the shadows. But seeing him silhouetted against the glow of the city lights with a small smirk playing on his lips just makes you realise how much you miss him. And how much you want to show him that. 

"Fancy running into you here, stranger." His deep, raspy voice comes out teasing and flirty. 

A warmth spreads over you at the sound and you take a step closer. “Hey there, hero. I could say the same to you.”

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of this lovely surprise?"

You smile softly, reaching up to touch his face, tracing his jawline. “I was hoping you could help me with my little problem.”

He chuckles, his upside-down grin nearly disarming. "Whatever it is, I’m all yours.”

“You see, my boyfriend hasn’t been coming home for the past few days and I've been feeling a little lonely lately because of it.” You pout a little.

“Is that so?” His hand finds its way to the small of your back, pulling you a fraction closer. The simple gesture, tender and affectionate, sends shivers down your spine. You lean into his touch, the feeling of his hand against your skin comforting. “Do you want me to keep you company then?”

You nod, dipping your head slightly so your lips softly brush against his. The anticipation builds like an electric charge in the air. His closeness is intoxicating and you feel your heart race, each beat like a drum echoing your desire for him.

“Like I said,” he breathes, his thumb lightly grazing your lips. “I’m all yours.”

Your hands trail down to his eyes to pull his goggles down, and you smile at the look on his face. “There you are, handsome.” 

You grab his jaw and kiss him like you’ve been wanting to all week, molding your lips against his with a burning desire to be closer. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in and fisting his unruly hair until you feel him groan.

"I've — missed you," you murmur against his lips between kisses, savoring the taste and warmth of his mouth.

"Kitten, you have no idea how much I've missed you," he growls, his voice low and husky. You reach for him again, but he pulls away. You’re about to ask why when he flips himself right-side up, landing effortlessly on the ground to tower over you. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.” He pins you against the alleyway, both his palms flat against the surface beside your face, and he draws you closer until you're flush against him. “Thinking about all the things I want to do to you.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his knee slowly creeping up between your legs, and he crashes his lips into yours once more. 

The taste of him is deliciously exhilirating, the sensation of his skin against yours a heady concoction that sends your senses into a whirl.

"Then why — don’t you—" You try to gasp, “Stop — thinking — and just —”

Unable to form a coherent thought anymore as he kisses you senseless, you reach behind you instead to touch his hand and trail your fingers up his arm, over his chest, and down his abs, feeling his toned muscles through the fabric of his shirt. You hook your finger through his belt to pull him closer. 

Feeling his hips slot against yours knocks the air from your lungs. 

“Shouta,” you can’t help but whine and roll your hips against him, desperately seeking friction. 

His hands grip you tighter as he groans into your mouth. He stops to look at you — your dark, blown out pupils, chest panting and face flushed with desire — and grabs your jaw, smirking. “You know I can't resist you when you're like this, right, kitten?”

You smile slowly through the haziness of the desire clouding your mind. 

“Tell you what. Why don’t you go back home first,” He leans in to press a lingering kiss behind your ear, stroking your hair. “And I promise I won’t be far behind?”

“You’re no fun,” You protest petulantly, fingers clutching at his shirt. “Can’t you take a day off from saving the world just for one night?”

He smiles at you softly. “I’m sorry, love, for today and all the days before that I haven’t been around much,” He takes your hands and brings it up to his mouth, looking into your eyes as he kisses your knuckles. “I intend to be plenty fun when I get home later. How’s that sound?”

Your cheeks warm at his words and all the things they make you imagine. “Don’t take too long, then.”

“I won’t. I’m counting down the seconds as we speak.”

With one last stolen, tender kiss, Shouta watches you leave before he heads back out into the night. The ache of having to say goodbye again is softened by the sincerity in his promise of making up for lost time and the eager anticipation of being in his arms soon.

(The noise complaint you get from his neighbor the next day is a small price to pay, and it makes him laugh a little when you show it to him, so…even just for that…)

[novashelby]

"Go to Sleep, Daddy"-Evie & Tommy

Summary: Evie is in bed, listening to her father pace back and forth in his office. Just as he does every night until it stops for second ending in a bang! Evie rushes down the stairs to him, scared that she may find him dead.

Warning: Mention of death

Word Count: 1,068

I hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment and reblog! Thank you @strangergraphics (again) for the divider.

Money never bought happiness, Evie had realized. Even at her worst, she never prayed for luxury, only necessity. Arrow house was big, uncomfortably so, and Evie couldn’t stand walking its halls. Big houses hold an emptiness that was uncomfortably loud with silence. At fourteen, she’d lie awake, studying the ceiling as her recent widowered father spent his nights pacing. She could hear the shoes scruff against the hard wooden floors. That’s all she’d hear. 

Until one night, or early wee hours of the morning, the shuffling stopped for a second allowing complete, empty silence. Her slight curiosity stomped as the house shook with a bang coming from his office. Evie shot up and threw the blanket from her body. Charlie had only been a little shy of two. Somehow already a mastermind, climbing from his crib. On his hands and knees, he peeked from his room. Evie slid across the wooden hallway, telling herself to ignore him. 

One could ask if Evie was fond of young Charlie, but it’d be a difficult answer. Of course, she had to love the boy. He was, unfortunately, her brother. And she knew, deep down in her heart, that it wasn’t his fault her father put pressure on her to take care of him. Evie halted at the end of the hallway that met the edge of the stairs. Slowly backtracking, she cursed to herself. “Alright, let’s get you back into bed first. Prepare for funeral number two,” she said under her breath, opening the door and scooping the boy up and placing him back in the crib. But after he was placed down, she wasted no time in rushing to her father’s office.

With both palms pressed against the door, she shoved it open, panting. But there was nothing in that moment that would allow her to catch her breathing, easing the anxiety that flooded her brain. Once in, she paused, the office bouncing back her wheezing. Her eyes scanned along her room until before her, Tommy laid. “Daddy,” she whispered, foot nudging at his own. He laid sprawled out like an eagle, faced down. His hair was drenched with sweat. Kneeling, she cautiously touched his neck, trying to find his pulse because that’s what you do, right? Evie had no idea, but so many thoughts flooded her mind. Scenarios of her having to raise Charlie by herself and manage that big, awful ugly house…. “Daddy!” she cried, swallowing the lump in her throat. Tommy was breathing alright. Just bloody fucking drunk, again. Evie looked over at the pitcher of room temperature water across the room. Not even moved from when the maid put it there almost a day ago…. Evie jumped up and sprinted for it, feeling a slight nick at the bottom of her foot.

When Tommy had passed out, he dropped his whiskey glasses, leaving little pieces of shards across the floor. Evie managed to step on a piece of glass, leaving traces of blood. Adrenaline overrode any ounce of pain that would have been felt otherwise. As she splashed the pitcher over his face, his eyes shot open, and explored the room before he propped himself up. “Daddy!” Evie said, kneeling and holding his cheek. “You fell…I heard it from the upstairs-”

“W-what?” he asked, looking around before feeling the wetness on his clothing. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he whispered to himself, groaning as he sat up and pushed himself against his desk. Evie watched as he attempted to ground himself on Earth again, wiping his face and shaking his head. “Time is it, Evelyn?”

“The time? Um…” She reached over for his pocket watch on the desk and opened it. “Nearly three in the morning….I-I’m sorry, I heard you fall and I just wanted to-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, love,” he said to make her stop talking. Looking up at her, seeing a girl who matured into a woman overnight. Where had her youth gone? He felt like shite, sitting there and incapable of taking care of himself while his fourteen year old daughter wore the grown up trousers. Reaching out his hand, he forced a smile. “C’mere,” he called out to her. “My love….” Evie softened her face and grabbed his hand, but resisted against him.

“You need to go to bed, daddy,” she told him. “It’s too much now, you need to go to sleep. It isn’t fair to us or yourself….You’re running yourself ragged-”

“I’m fine,” he whispered, tugging her down. “Sit here with me.” Next to him she sat and he pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “You’ve grown up, love….” When his eyes cleared of drunkenness, he spotted the trickles of blood that followed her foot. “You’re bleeding. Let daddy look!” Evie hadn’t even noticed, but when her eyes matched his, studying her foot, she hissed. The sting shot up her leg. Gently holding her foot, his thumb felt along the wound. “Glass. Darling, I told you to wear slippers.” Evie winces as he pulled it out with fingers before landing a soft kiss on the sole. “You need to be careful.” 

“I just heard you fall and I ran for it.” Tommy held her foot, massaging away the pain. There were no bandages near them, and neither had the energy to get up. She watched as he closed his eyes, caressing her foot along his cheek, taking deep breaths. “Daddy, it’s been nearly two months now-”

“Shhhhhh,” he said to her. “I know-”

“She wouldn’t want you living like this-”

“She can no longer want or need or think for anything, Evie,” he said, opening his eyes. “She’s fucking dead. We’re the ones that have to do all the thinking, wanting, and needing… A man has to grieve somehow, someway-”

“A man has to still be a father,” she whispered, reaching out for his cheek, caressing it. “And I mean that for Charlie-”

“I do, don’t I?” he said, half listening, dropping her foot and pulling her in closer to him. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, wouldn’t life be so much more simpler if it was just you and I, Evelyn? The caravan, the stars, and the horse…. That’s what I’ll do. You and I, and the caravan.” Evie sighed and wanted to remind him that solutions were not that easy, but if living in his mind helped a man, she was willing to sacrifice reality for a little longer.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Darling

sejanus x reader

A/N: after the blurb i wrote, i knew i had to do more hehe so its the full oneshot

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, pussy slapping, spanking, size kink, sweet boy being rough, brat taming

WORDCOUNT: 1,341 words

You’re a terrible little brat. Sejanus knows it from the moment you walk in in your tiny little sundress. It’s not even hot outside.

“Hi, baby.” You say sweetly.

“Hello, darling. I didn’t think you were gonna be here for another hour.”

“I just missed you.” You whisper out, walking over and looking oh so innocent with your hands behind your back. You place yourself in his lap.

“I missed you too but you know I gotta study.” He sighs as you play with his collar.

“Okay.” You reply but don’t get up.

“You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not.” You start running your hand up and down his chest.

“Can you wait in my room, sweetheart? I won’t be too much longer.” His hand trails up your back and down to your waist. He would never be able to focus with you here.

“I don’t want to wait. I want you now. You’ve studied enough.” You say petulantly.

“There’s no need to be this way.” He says gently as he runs his fingers through your hair. “Can you go and wait for me please?”

You roll your eyes and get up with a huff, storming off to his room and leaving him thinking about what could’ve made you act up like this.

He continues studying, but stops fifteen minutes early in hopes of being able to talk it through with you. When he walks into his room, you’re laying on his bed on your tummy with your skirt riding up so much that it barely covers your ass.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart.” His voice is so kind, it almost makes it difficult to do what you’re about to do.

“You’re bothering me.” You don’t even look at him as you speak, kicking your feet back and forth that are adorned with cute frilly socks.

“I can’t fix it if I don’t know what i’ve done wrong.”

“Maybe i’ll go have a chat with Coryo. I’m sure he could attend to me.”

“Coryo? No, I can take care of you. You’re my girlfriend.” He looks a little hurt by the comment.

“I think he might take even better care.”

It dawns on him and Sejanus realizes what you’re trying to do now. You want to bring out his jealousy, make him fuck you good but he’s not going to give in that easily. Though, he’ll let you think that.

“Lie on your back.” He murmurs and you smirk to yourself.

“Maybe I don’t wanna.” You say as you twirl a pierce of hair.

He walks closer to you and you flinch when he smacks your ass. Sejanus never hurts you. He treats you like you’re a goddess to be worshipped, not like some brat to be tamed. “Turn over and lie on your back. Now.”

You nibble at your lip, starting to rethink your decisions as you obey him.

“Lift up your skirt and spread those legs.” You listen quickly as he gazes over your glistening thighs. “Look at you, already wet and with no panties on. Were you touching yourself when you were waiting for me?”

“No.” You lie and immediately clench your legs together when he slaps your cunt. You look up at him with shock.

“Don’t lie to me.” He says as he spreads your thighs back open with strong hands.

“I-I was… touching myself, Sej. I’m sorry.” You want so desperately to cover yourself but at the same time, you don’t want him to stop.

“You just can’t be patient, can you? My needy little slut.” He’s never called you that before. “You never listen, baby. I’ve got to do something about it.” He says sternly. “I know what it is… it’s this sweet little cunt’s fault.” He rubs his fingers through your folds before pulling his hand away. “I think it needs some punishment.”

“Ah!” You whimper out and try to squirm away as he gives your pussy another slap but he’s so much stronger than you.

“It’s okay, baby. I know what you need, so be a good girl and take it.” 

He spanks you again, hitting your sensitive pearl and making you writhe. You keep whining out as he slaps it a few times in a row, too quickly for you to count.

“Sej, it hurtsss” You plead with him. He hates the idea of hurting you but he knows this is what you need. And even with the begging and whining, you’re still soaking his fingers with each hit.

“Shh shh… my good girl.” He continues to slap your poor pussy until it aches. You try to close your legs again but he holds them open. “Don’t hide from me.” He gives a firmer slap to your puffy folds and you’re humiliated by the arousal that continues to leak from you.

He gives a few more softer smacks before stopping. “It’s okay, you’re all done now.” He rubs his fingertips on your oversensitive pearl and is surprised when you cum almost right away. You look up at him with watering eyes, the heat rising to your cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart.” He takes you into his arms, cradling you. “You did so well.” He coos. “How’re you feeling?”

“I um… good.” You say truthfully and you’re still aching for him.

“Do you still need to be fucked, baby? Because I won’t be gentle with you.” He says the filthy words so tenderly.

You nod timidly.

“On all fours then.” He says, helping you shift around and propping some pillows under your hips. He takes in the sight of you, so needy and beautiful. “Beg for it.” He commands as he starts to stroke his thick, hard cock.

“Please… please fuck me, Sej. I need it so bad.” You push your hips back to try and entice him and all it does is earn you a spank on each cheek.

He chuckles. “Since you asked so nicely...” He slowly starts to push himself inside you and it never gets easier to take him. He’s so thick and long and you whine out at the perfect stretch, feeling him all the way in your tummy.

He lets you adjust to his size before beginning to thrust in and out of you. Usually he’s so slow and loving, but today, he’s fucking into you like an animal.

“God, you just suck me in. Such a perfect little pussy.” He smacks your ass again as he gives you a proper pounding.

“Sejanus… Sejanus.” It’s all you can say.

“Yeah, not thinking about Coryo anymore, are you? Not when your boyfriend is fucking you like this.” His right hand firmly grips your hip while the left hand goes to pinch your sore pearl. You scream out from the pain-pleasure. “Didn’t realize till now what you needed. Just wanna be my cocksleeve, huh?”

“Y-Yeah… need you so bad.” You murmur out in agreement, clutching the sheets as he drives into you deeper, pounding you into the bed.

“I know. I'll take proper care of you now, hun.” He keeps rubbing your pearl, knowing how close you are so he takes his hand off your hip and presses down on your tummy where he can feel his cock inside of you.

You scream out in response and cream around him. Your pussy clenches so tight that he only gets a few more hard thrusts in before he fills you up with you cum.

He huffs for a second. “God, baby you did so good for me.” He rubs your back as you calm yourself down. “C’mere, love.” He pulls you into his arms so you can rest your head on his chest. “Was it too much?” He asks, holding you as close as possible.

“No, it was perfect.” You whisper into his skin. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love you, baby. I’ll never do anything that I think you wouldn’t like. You can always tell me just what you need.” He promises, fingers running through your hair.

And you know truer words have never been said.

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

[witchthewriter]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

Warnings: book & show spoilers

a/n: I’m trying to write the characters as a mixture of the book and show. Some of the characters act quite differently in the books and it’s a bit difficult to pin point their personality, but I hope I do them justice. Thank you for reading xx

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: Everyone is settling down into their own homes. I don’t care what is canon and what’s not.

𝐊𝐚𝐳

・Likes things to be in their place. If they aren’t where they left them than he goes into a bit of a tizzy

   “Y/n! Y/n I specifically left them right here and they aren’t right. Here. Where have they gone??”

  “No, you moved them because you thought they were too vulnerable sitting there. Look in the third shelf down to your left.”

*Does what you tell him to do* *is embarrassed* *thanks you but not above a whisper*

・You have a lot of nice things in your home, but the most expensive things are usually the jewels and the jewelry that Kaz has gifted you

・He has a lot of the same clothing, so when you open his side of the closet there’s just ... black ... oh and grey

・His cane is never too far from where he is

・Despises the idea of getting a pet

・And you have to beg and beg

・But none of it worked

・So you had to come up with a plan. It was quite manipulative but hey, how else would you have caught Kaz’s attention?

・The dog you have now was once a puppy who had “accidentally” followed you home

   “How did it follow you home? We live in Ketterdam, there are a million homes here.”

“I guess it liked...me...”

・He ordered it out

・But you didn’t listen and somehow, the pup had wiggled its way into Kaz’s heart

・He swore he wasn’t going to pick up any poops, but that too was a lie

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚

・Once settled in, she comes to realise that she really enjoys the finer things in life

・Big bed, silks, many many pillows

・A big bath with hot water straight from the tap

・She adores a long hot bath, lots of bubbles, with lavender and chamomile, candles, and a good book to read - or just to lay there and soak

・She hates waking up early, but is the first one to crawl into bed (she just really likes being in bed)

・Has her own drawing nook - a desk near a big window where she can get natural light. Many types of pencils, quills, inks, etc. She draws people, memories, landscapes, dreams

・Her drawings are framed and are all over the house

・There’s also a library; a room with a cosy corner that has all kinds of books; fiction and non fiction - historical, religious, fantasy etc

・Oh and she adores having the fire going. She wants it on even if it’s barely even cold

・But she hates chopping wood, so when you tell her that it isn’t cold enough for a fire, she’ll go outside and use The Cut to get the wood.

・Loves when you braid her hair; loves it even more when you give her head a lil massage too

・She fusses over you whenever you’re sick. Making you soup, remembering remedies from her upbringing in the orphanage.

・If you burn yourself, cut or have any other injuries, she is constantly checking on it to make sure it doesn’t get infected

・She doesn’t mind doing the laundry - if it means you’ll fold afterwards

・There are a lot of different oils, perfumes, bath products, hair products all over the bathroom

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢

・Yes, he is used to being treated like royalty

・But he’s also experienced life on a ship - and that isn’t pretty (at all...it’s quite awful)

・Yet he has seen his destiny as being a ruler, so the biggest change in both of your lifestyles is ... you

・You would have to learn how to live during court

・You couldn’t just leave your chambers in your pajamas (I mean ... you could but drama would start at court most definitely)

・Both you and Nikolai obviously share the same chambers, and actually you both have your own wing in the castle (So I guess you could just stay in your pajamas if you wanted)

・It’s basically having your own home - or huge apartment

・The majority of the decor is white with gold trimmings and accents. Nikolai said you could change whatever you want

・The castle is never quiet, and there are always people coming and going, but your chambers are very very quiet.

・Nikolai doesn’t snore but does talk in his sleep

・It’s nonsensical, but it’s usually about the dreams he’s having

・You have servants that come and clean up after both you and Nikolai

・When Nikolai is finished for the day, he trots up to your shared wing and slumps against the door once it’s closed

・He sighs undoing his buttons, but you like to be the one to do that

𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐣

・Still very quiet around the home, so you get used to seeing her in different parts of the house in a small amount of time

    “I swear, sometimes there’s two of you!” You once grumbled, while cleaning up a broken tea cup because she popped up out of nowhere

・Doesn’t like loud sudden noises, so you live a bit from civilisation. Not too far though.

・She gets on really well with cats

・You’d end up adopting two kittens that were the only survivors of a litter

・They were tiny, covered in fleas and skinny as can be. But you both fed them, bathed them and made sure they survived

・One is called Umbra, and the other Sol

・You both take on the styling of the home. Inej quite likes the cottage-esque look. However she does want to honor her heritage and there are a lot of colourful cloth that drapes across the ceiling

・Inej had Jesper insert a rod that holds a long silk cloth so that she can practice her acrobatic skills

・Jesper visits as often as he can, and is usually found hung over in the spare bedroom

・As does Nina, who likes to ask what’s for dinner hours before dinnertime (usually an hour after eating lunch)

・You own the land, with Inej’s name not involved - you didn’t want her to feel tied down. And that she could leave whenever she desired

・Although it’s Suli culture to be travellers, Inej said she did want to be apart of the deed and you were more than happy to change it

・Inej doesn’t sleep very often; she knows when her body needs it but other than that, she really cannot get to sleep

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐬

・Loves the feeling of a cosy home

・Has actually gone off to cry because living with you in such a lovely, warm, safe environment made him overwhelmed with happiness

・I have this feeling that you would be the type of person to rescue animals and Matthias has to put on this ‘No we barely have enough to feed ourselves, we can’t look after these animals,’ but his stance changes so quickly

・So you have about five dogs so far

・But you still go into town and feed as many as you can

・Matthias thinks he’s in charge, but after a few months together he comes to realise that you will always be in charge

・He actually really enjoys gardening

・Has those well-planned and established herb gardens. The ones that are held in perfect square timber raised beds

・Matthias absolutely threw himself into gardening. Bought books about it, spoke to the elders in town about how to perfectly grow herbs. He was both fascinated and in need on something to focus on after the tragedy he had endured

・You encouraged him, but said he had to promise not to make a mess inside.

・Is a very loud snorer, and hogs the bed, as well as the sheets. It’s just easier to sleep underneath him - not that he would notice. Once his head hits the pillow almost nothing can wake him until morning

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚

・Safety; that’s what she wants, that’s what she desires most

・A place that she can let her guard down and not have to worry about being used

・She doesn’t like uninvited visitors, and has special locks on all the doors so no one can break in

・When you introduced the idea of a guard dog, she was apprehensive.

  “What if it can sense ... the darkness in me?”

“There is no darkness within you, Genya.”

・So you got a Cane Corso, a beast of a dog. That scared even Genya the first time she saw her.

・Is a very light sleeper, but once getting your pup, Genya let it sleep on the end of the bed

・Even now, after your dog, Neith, has grown to full size, she still sleeps at the end of your bed (you know exactly when she jumps up and when she leaves because the bed moves...significantly)

・When days seem especially difficult for Genya, you like to leave little notes around the house, reminder her of all the things you love about her

・She likes to wake up before you and move the hair from your face and just watch you sleep

・Isn’t the best at cooking, so you usually take up that job. But she does bake pretty well. Very good at making tea cake 

・Knows a lot about healing so you have a lot of herbs, spices, flowers, vegetables that aren’t for eating per say, but for when someone is sick or wounded 

・Genya hated mirrors for a while, until you helped her get over the change in her appearance. You helped her on the road to confidence and self love. 

・You’re both still involved in helping the Grisha so you see Zoya, Nikolai, Tolya, Tamar etc 

・Genya doesn’t really like having people at the house though. It’s her sanctuary where there are no reminders of The Darkling or the nichevoya

𝐌𝐚𝐥

・Wants a simple life

・Doesn’t care for anything fancy, so you’d be the one to arrange everything

・I can see him as a farmer

・Out in the country, living off the land, but never taking too much and giving back

・We know from the books that he ends up running the orphanage with Alina, living a simple life. Looking after kids who need a home - and I think he would do that whether he was with Alina or not (and in this case...obviously not)

・He would be content with a slow life with you

・But he also wants to be of use to the community; to give back

・So you spend your days finding jobs for people who need them - with the help of Nikolai. You do the paper work while Mal meets the people and waits with them until a horse and carriage arrive

・You also have a huge vegetable garden that you allow the community to use as they please

・In thanks they give you something; knitted blanket, baked bread etc

・You have cows, goats, sheep and horses

・There are stable hands that tend to the horses. Usually the young people from the village (both boys and girls alike)

・The milk isn’t just for you and Mal but you go into town and give it to the people who need it most

・You don’t live far from the village. In fact you can see your neighbours just by looking out the window. They may look far, but really it’s only a ten minute walk

・You also teach people how to read and write

・Mal is absolutely head over heels in love with you

・Always makes sure you feel protected and safe

・Is actually very sensitive and feels things deeply. That’s why sometimes he has to take time to process his emotions alone

𝐙𝐨𝐲𝐚

・We know that Zoya is destined for greatness, hence she would end up living in a castle

・But if not a castle than a quaint chateu will do

・Is a stickler for mess

      “There is no reason for there to be so much untidyness!”

・Has a lot of pictures/drawings/paintings of her family up around your home

・She always needs the bed to be made every day; if you’re the last to get out of bed than you have to make it

・You see a different side to Zoya; yes a softer side but also the undone, sloppy version of her. She actually didn’t let you see her like that until a month into living together

・If you snore she makes you sleep on the couch

・No. pets. She’s the one who wears the pants in this relationship and her decision is final

・Until you start feeding an old cranky cat who doesn’t stray far from your home. You name him, but keep him a secret and sneak him inside when Zoya is away

・She pretends not to notice and lets you have your hidden pet

・Although you’d think there would be servant or maids, that’s not the case. You and Zoya split the chores equally; she doesn’t want another person touching her things

・She actually colour co-ordinates her clothes; they’re in colour order and when she’s especially stressed she’ll do the same for yours

・When clothes are folded, they have to be folded neatly- 

・Is a very, very good cook. She makes these pastries with goats cheese inside that are to die for 

・Has a vanity with ridiculous amounts of make up. When she has a bit to drink she always wants to give you a makeover 

・Takes her coffee and tea very strong 

     “What’s the point of polluting it with milk and sugar?”

・Is the last to fall asleep and the first to wake, but she stays in bed for 20 minutes because she likes being so close to you 

・Whenever guests come over she is the perfect hostess. But if they overstay their welcome she won’t hesitate to tell them it’s time to leave

𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫

・IS SO DRAMATIC WHEN GETTING READY

   “This outfit worked better in my head”

・Wanted to have multiple mirrors in the bedroom so he could “see himself at all angles” but you told him “the fuck we are”

・He relented ... not without whining

・But Jesper’s clothes do end up EVERYWHERE

・He’s awful at picking up after himself in the clothing department

・But he does keep the bathroom really clean ???

・Even if it’s shaving or after a bathe, he’ll make sure it’s exactly how he found it

・Hates weird smells so he sprays perfume everywhere

・Liked the thought of living in the city to be close to the rest of the crows, so you accepted

・But you made him promise not to do anymore gambling -

・Your home is like an escape for Jesper

・Likes to go shopping with you. He likes picking out things so that you can match (you’re against it at first but ... also submit to it)\

・He always knows how to make you laugh, so whenever he forgets to do a chore he can wiggle his way out of it

・Will do all the grocery shopping and any errands you don’t want to do

・Also loves candles, especially scented ones but has been banned from having them burning unless you’re home too ...

・Moves around a lot in his sleep and has whacked you a few times

・Misses you whenever either of you are away. Keeps a piece of your clothing to smell

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

・Although he spends a lot of time at the Little Palace, he wanted a place where it was just you and him. Where he wouldn’t be disturbed by questions or problems.

・A lot of his focus is on his plans, but he keeps maps and the like all in one room

・He wants to keep the bedroom for ... bedroom activities. As well as all the other rooms for their proper uses

・Aleksander doesn’t want his ambitions to hinder your domestic life

・He hates overhead lighting

・Prefers candles or lamps

・Always buys you new clothes, new shoes, new accessories etc. Wants you to have the best of the best 

・And he gets headaches very easily so you have tinctures and remedies on hand as well as around the house

・He prefers the quiet, and too much noise overwhelms him

・Pets aren’t really his thing ... maybe a bird though, but it wouldn’t have to make much noise

・He does love horses though. And would spend hours on them if he could. Just galloping away, far from his troubles.

・Has a maid that comes and cleans the house

・The only time you’ve seen him truly peaceful is in sleep, but that’s only when the nightmares haven’t started 

・He wakes up a lot during the night and doesn’t want to wake you. But you’ve told him whenever that happens he’s more than allowed to wake you up. Being in your arms help him go back to sleep

・100% lets you steal the blankets, without ever complaining 

・He’s more likely to remember things than you are, so he makes/buys you a calender and writes down everything you’d need to remember 

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚

・Isn’t very tidy. There are a LOT of food crumbs (especially in the bed)

・Her hair is actually very long, she just keeps it up and out of the way, so you get to see Nina with her long hair down

・But you also find a lot of Nina’s hair ... everywhere

・She does like when you give her head scratches - a lot of golden retriever energy

・You’ve actually been collecting it to prove to her how much she sheds

・Is always hungry and asks if you want to get food nearly every hour and a half

・She’s not that bad of a cook, but you aren’t much better. So a lot of your food is bought rather than made

・Always makes sure you’ve had something to eat though, especially after a long day or after a big gig with the crows 

・You, Nina, and Inej have a close friendship; so Inej likes to ... appear ... in your house

・Most of the time it’s because of an injury. So you keep your storages stocked up just in case.

・But other times it’s for a sleep over! Eating, all sleeping in the loungeroom, telling each other stories and secrets

・You invite Jesper and Wylan aswell... and have asked Kaz but he always declines. Well actually he doesn’t even decline he just doesn’t say anything or show up 

・Is a heavy sleeper when you’re in the house. But when she’s alone she can barely sleep

・Always kisses you when you walk through the door and before you leave. It’s become a ritual and if it isn’t done then it’s bad luck

・Learns your little quirks. Like if you like your sandwiches cut diagonally or straight 

・Nina is very romantic

・She loves going on little dates with you. And always makes sure you have time for a date. At least once a month. Even if it’s just going out to eat and then taking a walk underneath the night sky

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Morning Glory (Serena van der Woodsen x gn reader)

Summary: Serena admires your body in the morning after a night spent together

Warnings: implied sex/some suggestiveness, the reader is a bit insecure over their upper body (particularly the stomach and chest area) but it's not said why specifically

A/N: tbh I wrote this with a transmasc reader in mind but their gender/pronouns aren't specified so this can be read by pretty much anyone

Nights spent with Serena were wild, exhilerating, carefree- everything that you'd expect from Manhattan's number one party girl. The mornings after, however, were surprisingly quiet and peaceful, a stark contrast that somehow always managed to fit the mood perfectly.

That morning was certainly no exception. You woke before her, which was no surprise as she always tended to sleep in, no matter what was planned for her that day. You didn't mind though, because it gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her sleep.

Her golden blonde locks were spread out in a messy display on the pillow where she laid her head, her eyes shut and her mouth parted slightly as a little bit of drool escaped. Every breath she took blew a single strand of hair out of her face, landing back in its previous position seconds after.

Reaching out, you gently brushed the strand of hair back, tucking it behind her ear. She responded by scooting closer to you on the bed, burying her face into your chest as she wrapped her arms around you like a koala. Apparently she wasn't nearly as asleep as you'd thought.

"Good morning," you softly greeted, to which she simply grumbled something incoherent in response. You couldn't help but chuckle at that, your hand moving to rest on her head as you began to slowly stroke her hair. "Wow, you really need a hairbrush," you commented playfully.

She gave you a light smack on the arm at your teasing as she pulled away just enough to be able to look up at you. "Hey, my hair looks gorgeous," she insisted, though it was a bit hard for you to take her seriously when you could tell she'd just woken up.

"Your hair would look even better if you actually brushed it every now and then," you retorted, an amused grin tugging at your lips when she huffed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom presumably to brush her hair.

You rolled over onto your back, your eyes flickering around the room as you waited for her to return. There was a tranquil sort of feeling to the calmness of waking up together after such an eventful night.

Letting out a sigh, you realized you'd gone to bed without a shirt on. It wasn't that big of a deal as Serena had obviously seen you naked before, you just felt a little weird when you weren't wearing one. Even during the summer, you refused to go to the pool unless you had something to completely cover your upper body.

She was just coming out of the bathroom the moment you were grabbing your shirt from where it had previously been discarded at the end of the bed, doing a little twirl as she flipped her hair about, showing off how it looked now that it was brushed. "How do I look now?"

"Mm, beautiful. You look much better now that your hair isn't a tangled mess," you replied while pulling your shirt on over your head, something that caused her brow to furrow slightly in confusion.

"Why do you always do that?" She asked while getting back on the bed with you, slipping her legs under the covers as she sat down. "Why do you always rush to put a top on whenever you realize you're not wearing anything?"

Part of you wanted to lie, to tell her that you had no idea what she was talking about, but you knew she'd see right through that. "I don't really like how I look without something on," you admitted in a quieter and more serious manner, averting your gaze as you fidgeted with the blankets some.

"Hey," she spoke in a gentle voice while reaching her hand out to rest on top of yours. "Do you remember that one time I had to be up early to meet Blair for something, and I was rushing around trying to get ready?"

"Yeah, of course I remember. It was one of the only times you've ever been up before me, and that was only because Blair would've gotten pissed at you for being late," you stated bluntly, which caused her to let out a giggle.

"That's true, but I was thinking less about that and more when I first woke up. You were sleeping so peacefully next to me (without a top on mind you), and I thought you looked... incredible." Her thumb gently rubbed the back of your hand as she spoke, and you could tell that she was being sincere. "I was so caught up in staring at you, I didn't even know what time it was until Blair called."

You couldn't help but want to tease her a little, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Oh, so you're saying that it's my fault you were late, are you?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," she replied with a lighthearted eye roll, clearly amused. "What I'm saying is the way you looked in the morning light, with your chest bare as you slept... You looked almost- angelic, or something."

The smirk on your face softened into a genuine smile as you leaned over to press an affectionate kiss to her head. "I think the same thing about you whenever I get to see you sleep. You always look so gorgeous in the morning light, S. Even if you need a hairbrush," you couldn't help adding with a playful grin.

"You're as bad as Blair is, did you know that?" She muttered while moving over some so she could cuddle up next to you on the bed.

"You still love me anyways," you said while giving her head a gentle kiss, thinking about how she looked when the sun hit her sleeping form early in the morning, her blonde hair shimmering like gold in the light. You counted yourself extremely lucky you got to see Serena van der Woodsen in all her glory first thing in the morning, before she threw on her mismatched outfits made up of designer clothes and covered her lips in the sweetest tasting gloss.

She let out a sigh of feigned exasperation while leaning further into your touch as your arm wrapped around her, tugging her in closer. "You're right, I do," she murmured affectionately before capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "And I also happen to love the way you look without a shirt on, even if you don't always agree with me."

"You're so good to me," you spoke into her soft lips as she kissed you again, your heart warming at her words. "Sometimes I feel as though I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that," she lightly scolded, getting offended on your behalf just like she always did whenever you put yourself down. "You absolutely deserve me, and I deserve you. We belong together."

Her words were gentle and loving despite the way she was currently trying to move herself to sit into your lap as she kissed you a bit more, clearly having something a little less innocent on her mind. You instinctively tensed up when her hands moved to slip underneath your shirt, having to remind yourself that you were in a safe place and that she'd never do anything to hurt you.

"I love you so much, and that includes what you look like," she spoke while her hands tentatively roamed along your torso, her touch as light as a feather. "And nothing's ever going to change that."

It felt like something so stupid to cry over, but you couldn't help the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes as you took in what she said. "I love you, too."

She placed another soft kiss on your lips before laying down on top of you, pulling her hands out from under your shirt as she got settled. The two of you laid there like that for who knows how long after, her hands rubbing your chest and stomach in an affectionate manner while she murmured out the occasional reassuring words.

You really did love her, and you were beyond grateful to have a girlfriend that was so unbelievably understanding. With the way she comforted you so easily, it almost made you forget why you were ever insecure over your body in the first place.

End notes: this is just a cute little comfort thing I wrote for myself that I decided to share <3

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[ryleektv]

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcannons

Part 3

warnings: language, mean enzo (per usual tbh), some NSFW (i'll put a divider before it), manipulation to the max

can you tell he's my favorite yet?? 😭

WC: 660

• runs. gets up ungodly early on completely random days to go running in the mornings and brag about how healthy and fit he is all day

• like there is no schedule to it, he just gets that 3am urge to get his shit together and decides to go running the next morning

• actually good at it though (i run and trust it is not easy 💪😔) and takes long as showers afterwards because bud cannot stand the feeling of being sweaty 

• if he is dating you and actually likes you, like straight up in love with you (i fear this is next to impossible but we going with it) you will get the best treatment of your life, you will not ever be in a better relationship

• you're getting genuine royalty treatment, gifts, constant love and affection, the whole nine yards

• but if bro doesnt actually completely like you, you're getting love bombed to another astronomical level

• down bad - taylor swift. its him.

• will embed himself in every single part of your life simply to know that when he eventually breaks up with you (or becomes bad enough to force you into breaking up with him.. that way you take the blame) you will not be able to do anything without thinking of him

• i've seen a few people talk about that and i fully stand by it

• walking to hogsmeade? lorenzo's bought you your favorite things from every one of these stores. 

• eating dinner?? lorenzo personally molded your food taste to match his so now you cannot eat your new favorite foods without it being all about that first time he made you try a bite of his. 

• trying to sleep in your own bed in your own room?? dont you dare forget all those times lorenzo snuck in just to lie next to you until you fell asleep, talking about the bullshit future he convinced you would happen.

• you dare have sex with another man?? lorenzo did it- you- better and you both know it. 

• watching your favorite movie? he claimed it was his favorite too after you two watched it together and then proceeded to watch it specifically with you about a million times after

• simply trying to hang out with your own pet?? too bad it liked lorenzo better (bro even has the poor cat love bombed) 

• "you used a fork once... turns out forks are fucking everywhere" type shit

• in conclusion, you will barely survive the breakup and he's planned it all out 

• also knows damn well you'll probably come running back because he made all these moments with your favorite things good memories, so now you're constantly associated with these good memories of him that he made to wash out the bad moments that way you'd be more likely to forgive, forget, and come crawling back after a few weeks (at the most) 

18+, MDNI

• firm believer in the fact that he's a switch but you wont know that unless you're in a committed relationship with him (or you get him drunk enough tbh because as i've said before, buddy gets drunk and overshares like crazy) 

• otherwise everyone just thinks he's dom because no way in hell is he subbing for some one night stand 

• you get him all wrapped around your finger and actually manage to fix him up enough to date him for real though, bro is a MESS

• sex drive is through the ROOF

• it's almost abnormal. none of his friends are getting busy THAT often 

• does not give half a shit though

• king of foreplay that ends up borderline better than the actual sex 

• man is a master with his fingers but also the biggest munch known to man?? heavenly combination. 

• not an asshole when it comes down to this type of thing though and will make sure his partner is satisfied. 

• wont sit there rubbing the inside of your thigh for a half hour thinking he's doing something!!!!! what a relief!!!! 

pls feel free to send in any requests because i need some ideas and i really feel like writing something