#i really need to write a fic for these two one of these days...

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

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Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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[joeyb1989]

running home to your sweet nothings* - joe burrow

summary: after a frustrating and hard loss to the chiefs, joe only wants you.

word count: 3.7k

pairing: joe burrow x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, smuttttt, sad/anxious/frustrated joe, pet names

a/n: another fic from me? what is this? LMAOO no but i’ve had an idea to write a fic based on sweet nothing for a while and a request came in and i knew it was the right time. if this fic sounds like total brain rot im sorry. i wrote this while i have covid and i haven’t really left my room in three days😭😭 anyways, hope you all enjoy.

*i didn’t really read over this, so if there’s mistakes (or if it’s just bad😭) please ignore them*

You were snapped out of your focused state by Joe placing a small object on the coffee table. “Look what I found in my pocket,” Joe added context to his action.

Your gaze left your notebook and found his outfit, seeing him clad in a gray t-shirt, which showed off his muscles nicely, and black cargos, which he loved wearing this past offseason. You look down at the small object to see the pebble you and Joe found in the off-season. “Do you think it ever misses Columbus sometimes?” Joe asked, joining you on the couch.

Flashback to this past off-season

“The sunset looks so pretty,” you smiled, taking a picture with your digital camera.

“You look so pretty,” Joe wrapped his arms around your waist from behind pressing a kiss to your cheek, earning a blush from you. “What’re you taking pictures of, sweetheart?”

You and Joe traveled to Columbus this weekend for his friend’s wedding a few days ago. You two decided to rent an Airbnb for the rest of the week to get in one last vacation before the season started.

“Those pebbles down there,” you said, pointing to two pebbles on the ground. One was an orangish-red color while the other was an almost-purple color – both Joe's and your favorite colors. “It’s like they represent us. They’re the only colorful ones.”

“How ‘bout we keep them?” Joe smiled as he picked the two up, putting the orange one in his cargo pants pocket, while handing you the other.

End of flashback

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “I thought we lost yours.”

“Yeah, me too. Yours is still in your memory box, right?” Joe asked.

“Mhm, we need to figure out what to do with them,” you sighed, “I don’t even remember why we took them home.”

“I don’t think there was a reason, baby,” Joe chuckled as you set your notebook on the coffee table, giving your full attention to him, “It just felt right.”

“I’ll put mine in your memory box before I leave,” Joe said, laying his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I wanna get my cuddles in right now.”

Even though Joe had this big male bravado out on the field, he was a total softie with you; which you loved. You loved how much comfort he found in cuddling with you, just like the comfort you found in cuddling with him.

“Nothing is bothering you, is there?” you asked. Joe would never say no to cuddling, but you knew that when he initiated it, something was going on in his head.

“Can I not just want to cuddle with my fiance?” Joe asked playfully.

“No, you can. But I just know that there’s probably something going on up there,” you said, running your thumb over his forehead.

“Just nerves, babe,” Joe sighed, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

Joe hated talking about his worries with anyone. The only exception was you, even if it did take a while for you to get it out of him. There were many times during his knee and wrist rehab when he would shut you out and keep all his fears trapped inside, but the two of you finally moved past that.

“Let me in,” you soothed, lightly scratching his scalp.

Joe sighed again before craning his neck to lock eyes with you. “The game tomorrow. I mean you were there last week, you saw how we all played like dog shit. I just… we can’t afford to play like that again. I can’t afford to play like that again. I know that we’ve improved this week at practice, but all of this outside noise doesn't help.”

“Joe,” you whispered while rubbing his back. It killed you to see him so worried about football. Football has been his life since he was a kid.

“I know I shouldn't worry about what people think… but I can’t take it sometimes. I know who I am. I know what the team is. I don’t get why we can’t put it together on the field. And those guys… it’s always hard to play them. I just… I’m tired of everyone’s opinions about me,” Joe expressed, undefeated.

The vulnerability and uncertainty in Joe’s words shock you to your core. Usually, Joe wouldn't care who was talking about him or what they were saying, but since the loss to the Patriots, he’s been very doubtful of himself.

“Baby,” you began, caressing his head, “I hate seeing you like this. You know why?”

“Why?” Joe whispered against your chest

“Because I know who you are and you know who you are. I hate when these middle-aged, couch potatoes of men get you down on yourself. You are Joe Burrow. You are a national champion, first draft pick, and one of the top quarterbacks in the league. But most importantly, you are Joe Burrow, the same guy that always gets back up when he’s down, the same guy that can do anything puts his mind to, and the same guy that always goes above and beyond everyone’s expectations.”

Joe sat up before bringing you into a hug, “Thank you, baby. It’s good to know that you’ll always be here even when the league gets tired of me.”

Ever since the two of you started dating Joe’s rookie year, you have always been there for him. You guys were just dating for a month when he injured his knee, but you made sure that you came over every day, even though you spent the night most of the time, to be there for him. You quickly fell in love with him after seeing how dedicated he is to everything in his life. He fell in love with you after seeing how caring and passionate you are about everything. You’re always there to hold him, comfort him, whisper sweet nothings to him, or give him endless pep talks after a hard loss or just a frustrating day of practice. He always found himself running home to you and your sweet nothings.

“What have you been working on today?” Joe asked, looking at your notebook on the coffee table.

“Just a little something,” you smiled, “you can read it if you want. I mean, it is about you.” One of your favorite hobbies was writing poems. It all started in college when you took a poem-writing class, and you just never stopped. Joe loved it about you. He’s read every poem that you have ever written. He always compliments you, it happens all the time. He loves them even more when he is your muse, though.

You watched as a smile curled on his face as he read your written words. “What a mind,” he said, kissing your forehead repeatedly, causing giggles to spill from your mouth. You eventually pulled his face down so that your lips would meet. The kiss quickly heated up as he moved you into his lap, his crotch under yours.

“Mmm, Joe,” you whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot behind your ear, lightly nipping at the skin. “Don’t mark me up too bad, baby.”

“No promises, sweetheart. Gotta let everyone in Kansas City know that you’re mine,” Joe growled.

Joe groaned as you started grinding your hips against his, feeling hardness below you. His hands went under your flimsy t-shirt as your lips found his again, Joe pulled away as he lifted it over your head. His eyes darted to your perky breasts – supported by an orange, lacy push-up bra. “Holy shit,” Joe said breathlessly, “I swear to God, you get more and more beautiful every day.” He unclasped your bra, watching it fall off your chest before attaching his mouth to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your hard nipple.

“Baby,” you moaned as his hand gave your other breast a hard squeeze before moving his mouth to it and his hand to the other. “Joe, I need you inside me. Right now.”

“You’re awfully needy, aren't you,” Joe smirked, but quickly whipped his shirt off before unbuttoning your jean shorts, pulling them and your panties down at the same time. You reached down and hooked your fingers in his waistband, prompting him to lift his hips to give you easier access to pull down his boxers and shorts. Joe caught a glance at the clock, knowing he had to leave soon to catch his flight to Kansas City. “Baby, we gotta be quick, ‘kay?”

You nodded, giving his cock a few slow pumps before lining it up with your slick entrance, both of you moaning at the fullness. You set a fast pace snapping your hips into Joe’s, making him groan in pleasure. Joe was never loud in bed, except for when you rode him. He loved watching you move on him, your boobs bouncing with every move while chasing your pleasure with his dick.

“Mm, Y/n,” Joe whimpered into your ear, making you feel hot all over, “Just like that baby. Making me feel so fucking good with that tight pussy.”

“Joe,” you whimpered a few minutes later, slowing your pace as your legs got tired. Joe immediately understood you by your body language and began helping you move on him.

“Shit, baby,” you moaned as he continued to move you, but started to buck his hips up into yours and take one of your nipples into his mouth.

Joe knew you were getting close to release as your walls squeezed around him. “Come on baby, make yourself feel good,” Joe panted.

That was all the motivation you needed to grab onto the back of the couch for leverage and start bouncing on his cock, chasing your own pleasure while making Joe feel good too.

“Shit, that’s it. That’s my fucking girl,” Joe moaned as his cock twitched inside you.

“Joe- I’m-” you began before he bucked his hips into yours, hitting your g-spot. “Oh my god-”

“You like that?” Joe teased as he did it again, this time harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Joe!” you screamed as your orgasm washed over you. 

A few more thrusts later, you felt Joe empty his load into you, your still-spasming walls milking every last drop of him. He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead. “You did so good, baby,” Joe panted, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “That was intense, though”

“I think I passed out for a minute,” Joe chuckled.

As you two caught your breaths while whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears, you almost didn’t notice Joe’s phone ringing.

“Shit,” Joe murmured as you handed it to him.

“Hey man, are you… going to the game?” a man teased on the other side of the line

“Yeah sorry, I… wanted to get one last workout in and lost track of time. I’ll be there soon, Tee.”

“Workout?” you teased as you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Well… many calories were burned,” Joe smirked, lifting you off his cock, both of you hissing at the sensation. Joe walked into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with paper towels to clean you up.

After cleaning you up, getting you dressed, cleaning himself up, and getting himself dressed, Joe grabbed his bags and loaded the car up with them.

“Be careful on your flight, okay?” Joe said, wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms went around his neck.

“I will, don’t worry about me,” you smiled, ruffling his hair before fixing it.

“I always worry about you, you know that,” Joe whispered against your lips.

“I know,” you stated, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? If you need anything, call me. I’m just a phone call away, baby.”

“I know,” Joe said, kissing your neck.

“Baby,” you giggled, “you gotta go.”

“Okay, okay. Didn’t realize I marked you up that much. My bad, babe,” Joe said, lightly tracing the purple marks from him on your neck.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now,” you smiled, secretly liking it that Joe always marked you up. It felt protective like he needed other people to know that you're already spoken for. “I love you so much, Joe. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m proud of you.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Joe said, wrapping you into a warm hug, “Call me when you land, okay?”

“I will,” you said as you pulled him in for one last kiss before he drove off to the stadium.

The next day - Arrowhead Stadium

As you sat in the stands with Joe’s parents, you started to grow more and more anxious as you waited for the game to start; especially after what Joe was going through last night.

Flashback to last night - Kansas City, Missouri

Joe: Baby, are you busy?

You: No, of course not. Are you okay?

Joe: I need you right now.

You: Okay, I'm here, Joey. Do you want to call or meet me somewhere?

You frowned as you saw that Joe left you on delivered for five minutes. He was usually a fast-responder, so you thought about calling him to check on him. Just when your finger was going to hit his contact name, there was a knock at your hotel door. You opened the door, revealing your fiance with red and puffy eyes. “Hey baby,” Joe sniffed but tried to smile.

“Aww, come here,” you whispered as you pulled him in for a hug after he closed the door. He immediately melted into your touch, his face burying into your neck as his sobs filled the room. “Shhh, I’m here. I’m always here, let it out,” you whispered into his ear, while you rubbed his back.

“I’m so scared, baby,” Joe sniffled, his arms holding you so tight like you were gonna disappear if he didn't.

“I’m here, you’re safe with me,” you soothed.

A few minutes later, Joe’s crying slowed down. “You wanna sit down?” you asked before he nodded. You led him over to your bed, and he pulled you into his lap once you two sat down.

“Just being here… it’s got me freaking out. I just need you.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked with soft eyes.

“Same stuff we talked about at home, there’s nothing else you could say to make me feel better than you already have. Can you just hold me?” Joe sniffled

“Of course,” you sadly smiled, laying down and pulling him onto your chest. As his crying picked up again, you had to fight your own tears, hating that he felt like this and there was nothing you could do to help.

End of flashback

Little did you know, just being there for him made all the difference. Joe woke up in his hotel room ready for the game, feeling confident in himself and his team. When you saw him before the game, it was like total whiplash but you were happy to see him ready for the game.

Your entire mood flipped once the game started. The entire team’s demeanor had flipped from what it was a week ago. A team that once played unsure and scared was now a major threat to the Super Bowl champs; even if it was a close game.

The 4th quarter had you fiddling with your engagement ring and chewing your nails out of nerves. Even though the Bengals were still winning, the Chiefs only needed one field goal to win. Tensions rose even more when Joe had to pull Ja’marr away from the ref.

You grabbed Robin’s hand as you saw the Chiefs kicker walk onto the field. You covered your eyes as he kicked. You heard Chiefs fans around you go wild, knowing what had just happened. When you opened your eyes, you saw Joe slamming his helmet on the ground knowing how frustrated he had to be.

——

The three of you met him down at the locker room. Your heart dropped when you saw the look on his face. He looked so upset. Usually after hard losses, Joe wouldn't hug anyone for long, including you; and that was no different today. He hugged his parents both at once before locking eyes with you. “Be safe on your way home. I love you,” Joe kissed your forehead before bringing you in for a brief hug.

“Yeah, this one definitely hurt him…” you thought to yourself.

Later that night - Cincinnati, Ohio

Your plane landed a lot earlier than Joe’s did, allowing you time to clean the messy house. You were also trying to mentally prepare yourself for him to shut you out like he usually did after a hard loss. You understood that he needed time to process his emotions by himself, but it always hurt you that he dealt with it by himself first.

You were putting some dishes in the cabinet from the dishwasher when you heard Joe come into the house from the garage. You turned your neck to give him a soft smile, fully expecting him to go up into his office for a couple of hours. Instead, he dropped his bags on the floor and rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I was an ass earlier,” Joe whispered, “Have you eaten anything?”

“You weren't an ass, you were frustrated… and that’s okay. And yeah, I ate at the stadium earlier,” you replied, “Have you?”

“No, but I’m not that hungry. Can we just go to bed?” Joe asked, his large hands rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you softly smiled, leading him up to your shared bedroom, watching him strip out of his clothes once you two got up there. You picked out a matching set of satin pajamas and crawled into bed, Joe immediately cuddling up to you.

A few minutes of silence went by before Joe spoke up. “I’m sorry you went so far for a total shit show,” he mumbled.

“It wasn't a shit show,” you soothed, running your hands through his frosted tips, “Some terrible calls, but all of you played your heart out on that field. I know that you're frustrated, though and I’m sorry.”

“I just… cannot take it anymore, Y/n,” Joe sighed, “All of these reporters I think are trying to deconstruct my soul. All they want to do is make money off of my awful playing. I’m trying so hard, and all anyone is saying is that I should be doing more. You’re the only one that I can tell this to… but I think I’m just too soft for all of it. I’m just a guy wanting to play football. I understand it’s their job to talk about me as much as it’s my job to win a game, but I’m just so tired of it.”

“You’re the only one who doesn't want more from me. All you’ve ever wanted from me was just… sweet nothings,” Joe smiled. Even if the world was ending, or if everyone was busy with something else, all he needed was you. You were his home, you were his peace, you were his heart. Even in the awful football world where everyone was pushing and shoving, he had you to keep him grounded; and that was perfect for him.

You felt Joe’s body slightly relax after he told you how he felt. “You already go above and beyond for me,” you smiled, “Those reporters will see exactly who you are now, though. I think that game awoke something in you.”

“I’m sick of us being the underdogs. That all changes next week, that's a promise, sweetheart,” Joe smirked.

“You need to get something else off your chest?” you asked, “You still feel pretty tense.”

“No, I’ve got it all out. I do know one way I can get the rest of it out,” Joe smirked.

“How’s that?” you teased, playing innocent.

“Let me show you,” Joe whispered into your ear before he unbuttoned your pajama shirt, and kissed your body.

“Joe, don’t you think I should show you?” you asked

“Mm mm. You already do enough for me,” Joe smirked, taking one of your boobs into his mouth while he teased the other with his agile fingers.

——

Several moments later, after you and Joe both got each other off with your mouths, you found yourself below Joe, anticipating his thick cock to fill you up. “Please, baby,” you whined as he teased your entrance with his tip.

“Please what?” Joe smirked

“Please fuck me,” you breathlessly said

“Okay,” Joe smirked nonchalantly, pushing into you, making you gasp.

Joe set a relentless pace, you were moving up the bed more and more with each rough thrust. “God, baby, you feel so good,” Joe moaned before he leaned down and kissed you.

“Joe,” you moaned, “harder. Fuck me harder.”

“You. are. so. fucking. hot.” Joe said, punctuating each word with a thrust that was rougher than the last.

“Joey, right there,” you moaned as one particular thrust grazed your g-spot.

“So tight baby,” Joe whimpered, burying his head into your neck, as he, somehow, picked up the pace.

“Babe- I’m not gonna last long,” you whimpered, your nails scratching his back.

“That’s okay, just let yourself feel good,” Joe hissed.

A few thrusts later, you felt the rubber band in your belly begging to snap, “I’m- gonna cum Joe” you moaned.

“Cum on my cock, I wanna feel you,” Joe grunted.

“Joe!” you screamed as your high washed over you.

“Baby- I’m-” Joe said as his high washed over him, leaving him grunting and moaning into your ear.

After a few minutes of catching your breaths, Joe pulled out and pulled you into his chest. “I love you, Y/n”

“I love you more,” you smiled.

“That’s not fucking possible, but okay,” Joe chuckled, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can't believe I’m marrying the love of my life in seven months,” you chuckled out of disbelief.

“I’ve been waiting for that moment since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Joe smiled. “Thank you for loving the parts of me that aren't easy to love,” he said with every drop of love in his eyes, “Like my smartass attitude and my nerves.”

“It’s a pleasure to love them,” you whispered before planting a kiss on his lips, “It’s a pleasure to get to love you.”

——

request:

[vivalas-vega]

late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

hiii - feels like a long time since I've actually posted anything. this fic idea came to me kind of randomly - I've been seeing a lot of fics lately centered around making/having babies and I thought it'd be nice to write something angsty and fluffy catered to those of us who are childless and want to remain that way lol - as always, lmk what you think!

late / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

word count: 3.5k

I do not have a taglist - if you'd like to be notified of future works please follow @vegaslibrary and turn on post notifications

warnings: mentions of periods, hints at termination (not said explicitly but it's there), talk of kids/pregnancy, angst and fluff !!

You shut the dishwasher before continuing to move about the kitchen as you cleaned up from dinner, one you would say was one of your best if you were going to toot your own horn, and your sights were set on the freezer for a little ice cream to go along with your movie before bed. You thought you should hold out, you’d left an invite open to your boyfriend to come here after his plans, but you decided against it. Ben and Jerry’s waits for no one.

You set it out to soften for a minute, pulling your planner from your bag to skim through your plans for the next day to make sure all your ducks were in a row and you were about to close it when you fixated on the date. “There’s no way,” you muttered to yourself, genuinely baffled by how far into the month you were. Your brow furrowed as you tried to comb through your memory but things had been so busy lately you were falling short so you switched to your phone and tapped on the pink app icon, eyes widening as you realized your first thought was true.

“No, no, no,” you sighed, walking to the bathroom with a quicker pace than normal and dropping down to look beneath your sink. “Don’t be expired,” you pleaded. To whom you were pleading you had no idea, but you breathed out a sigh of relief when the tiny text on the box confirmed you still had a while to use them. 

You checked the app again, scrolling back through the month and confirming what you’d hoped you’d misinterpreted the first time… but you hadn’t, you were in fact late. Ten days late. You had always considered yourself quite lucky, your period ran like a well oiled machine and your cycle was always twenty-nine days on the dot. Every so often you’d fluctuate, but only by a day, and for that you were grateful. You were always prepared, and you always knew if you ever fluctuated by more than a day it was cause for concern…

Ten days was more than cause for concern in your book, frankly as you stared at the test you thought you didn’t even really need to take it. You only kept them on hand because you were known for missing a pill here and there and you’d rather have to run to your bathroom in a panic than to your closest mini-mart, but you’d never truly had a scare before. You always assumed they’d expire before you got to use them. Oh, how wrong you were. 

Pregnancy was never on the docket for you. You knew from a young age you had no interest and frankly it scared you more than anything. You knew it was reckless not to switch to a more effective birth control, one that was foolproof and long-lasting but the pill you’d been on since high school hadn’t failed you yet so you’d put it off despite the fact that it had been on your to-do list. Right about now you were wishing you’d just booked the appointment and gotten it over with. 

You did the only thing you really knew to do at this moment and fired off a text to Natasha, your best friend for almost two decades. All it read was three simple numbers: 911. 

You heaved a sigh as you ran your fingers through your hair and chastised yourself for being so flippant. You knew you didn’t want this, and you knew the pill wasn’t perfect, especially not when you missed at least one per pack. Really, you’d just gotten lucky your whole adult life, and the fact that this hadn’t happened sooner was beginning to feel like a miracle as you really let the situation wash over you. You were broken from your thoughts by the sound of your phone vibrating harshly against the tile and you answered it before it even got through its first ring.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked in lieu of a hello. This was one of the many reasons you loved her and why she was still your best friend after all this time. Unless she was in the air or on the other side of the world, a 911 text was responded to in the form of a call in five minutes or less. You also decided to forgo a greeting and simply held up the box and her eyes widened, “no, are you serious?” 

“Unfortunately,” you sighed and she considered her next question carefully.

“Have you taken one yet?” You shook your head. “Okay, so it’s just a suspicion, maybe there’s not even anything to worry about.” 

“Ten days, Nat,” you replied.

“Oh shit,” was all she said for a moment. “Hey, you’ve been eerily regular your entire life, maybe your uterus taking a hard earned break,” she tried and you chuckled at the attempt to lighten the situation with humor. 

“Or maybe it’s growing a person,” you said and she rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t even taken it, you can’t get all doom and gloom yet. Have you talked to Jake?” 

“Should I?” you shot back and she just gave you a deadpan look through the screen.

“Should you talk to your boyfriend, the one who may or may not have impregnated you, about the fact that he may or may not have impregnated you?” she asked rhetorically. 

“I just… it’s not like it’s going to go anywhere if it’s positive,” you sighed. “We haven’t talked about it, Nat. He doesn’t know how I feel and I have a feeling it’s going to ruin everything.” 

“How could you know that if you haven’t talked about it?” she replied with that face that told you she knew she was right, because she always was, not that you’d tell her that. “If this was some random hookup I’d say absolutely don’t talk to them about it, but this is Jake… you guys are getting serious and I think you’ll feel better if you do.” 

“That’s the thing, we’re getting serious. This is still so new, what if I lose him as soon as I tell him ‘yeah if you stay with me you’ll never have a family’?” 

“First of all, I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this but definitely don’t say it like that. Second of all, if you lose him because your goals for the future don’t align then he was never really yours to begin with. It just means your person is still out there and so is his.” 

“I know that was meant to be comforting but the thought of him having a person out there that isn’t me is making me nauseous.” 

“Sure it’s not morning sickness?” she teased and you scowled at your phone screen. 

“I’m serious, Nat… I know it’s early and we’re just starting to settle into a groove but I feel like he’s it, you know?”

“No, I really don’t know how my beautiful and smart best friend winds up being it for Hangman, but you know I love and support you and all your choices… including whatever you decide to do if the test is positive. At the end of the day the final say is yours, but I think you should at least include him in the conversation.” 

“I know, I just… shit,” you were cut off by the sound of your front door and Jake’s voice letting you know it was him. “I completely forgot he was coming over.”

“Talk to him, even if it doesn’t go well it’s better to know now, it’ll only hurt worse later… and for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’ll be whatever worst case scenario you’ve concocted,” she said before you hung up and Jake was just walking into to bedroom as you exited the bathroom.

“Hey, there you are sweetheart,” he said with that famous smirk of his that was now only reserved for you. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips that you easily reciprocated, “you on the phone?” 

“I was, with Nat,” you answered and he chuckled.

“Swear you two can’t go four hours without checking in. I have no idea how you make it through deployments.” He’d tease but he loved how close you were, if you weren’t he’d never have met you. You would have never been dragged into the Hard Deck and he’d never have the opportunity to spend two long months trying to win you over. She’d swear until her dying breath it had been the opposite of her intentions, but Jake would always consider himself indebted to Natasha for bringing you into his life.

“Yeah well, she had to tell me all about your epic failure at the pool table,” you said and he laughed. It absolutely had not been the topic of your call, but you were glad she had been texting you about your boyfriend’s terrible game against Bradley as it was happening so you had something to say while you worked up the nerve to tell him what you were really talking about. 

“Okay, it was not an epic failure,” he said as he pulled his spare clothes from your dresser and began working on the buttons of his khakis, “but if it was, it was only because I didn’t have my good luck charm.” 

“She said you’d use some cop out like that,” you replied and he playfully rolled his eyes. He quickly pulled on his sweats and became acutely aware of how you hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, and the way you were picking at a hangnail on your thumb. Normally, you’d have already jumped into bed and launched into a rundown of everything that happened during the day but you were silent, unmoving, and about to hit bone on your thumb. 

“Everything okay?” he asked as he shrugged his shirt on and you nodded, suddenly realizing how off you were being as well. 

“Just a long day at work,” you answered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and you should have known he’d see right through you. He always did, even before you were officially together. Jake had learned you and all your cues in record time and nothing got under his skin more than when you tried to pretend he hadn’t… like you were right now. 

“Wanna try that again?” He sat beside you and put a reassuring hand on your thigh, and the simple action had you letting out a sigh. 

“I’m late,” you said and Jake just nodded. Most men would have asked late for what? but as you’d learned over the past several months, Jake wasn’t most men and he didn’t need to prod to realize what you meant, especially when you were this visibly anxious.

“Okay, have you taken a test yet? Do we need to go get one?” He kept his tone even and measured, not wanting to add any more stress onto your plate.

You shook your head, “there’s one in the bathroom,” you answered. He hated the way you were avoiding his eyes and the way you hadn’t stopped picking at your hands.

“Let’s take the test so we know exactly what we’re dealing with, and then regardless of the result we’ll sit right here and talk it all out… how does that sound?” he asked and you smiled softly but it didn’t reach your eyes. He was always proactive, any time something came up he immediately sought out a solution and you weren’t at all surprised this was his response.

“I think that sounds good,” you said as you stood, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here,” he replied and you knew from the look in his eyes he meant that in more ways than one. Seeing you stressed or overwhelmed wasn’t new for him, but this was something else entirely… normally you’d be frazzled over something work related and you’d vent to him and snap back to normal but you were completely withdrawn. He knew you were scared, frankly he was a little scared too, but he was suddenly worried he hadn’t made his feelings clear enough. There really wasn’t anything you could do at this point to send him running, and especially not this; he desperately wanted to know what was nagging at you so he could reassure it away.

You returned from the bathroom and took up your previous spot beside him, stick in hand, “two minutes.” you said softly and he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, whatever it is we’ll figure it out. Everything will be okay,” he said and you nodded but he could tell his words just rolled right off you, not sticking in the slightest. He thought it’d be best to stay silent while you waited, he’d be able to get to the root of it once you both knew exactly what was going on.

The timer on your phone startled you and you silenced it as you took a deep breath. Jake slid his hand through your free one and intertwined your fingers, squeezing reassuringly as you flipped the test over. Negative. You exhaled in relief and dropped your head against his shoulder and he quickly lifted his arm to pull you into his chest. Emotion tugged at you despite how you tried to keep it at arm's length, and eventually you succumbed to the tears trying to break free.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay,” Jake whispered, kissing the top of your head and drawing soothing patterns along your back. He continued to talk, low reassurances that weren’t quite registering but the tenor of his voice eventually calmed you down and when the emotions finally ran their course he hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. “Talk to me, what had you so worried?” he asked gently, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

You considered your options: you could say you were just terrified by an unplanned pregnancy and push past it, or you could do what you knew you needed to and be honest despite the fact you were somehow convinced it’d bring the end of your relationship. “I don’t want kids,” you blurted out and he was nearly as surprised by the sudden confession as you were.

“I- I never have, I… never envisioned that life for myself and I’ve never felt that thing people feel that makes them want kids. I know I’m like… broken or something, I know it literally goes against my biological nature to not want kids, I just don’t and I know that can be a deal breaker so I understand if you don’t want to stay-"

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he interrupted, his tone still gentle but not as soft as it had been earlier. “You are not broken. It’s perfectly normal to not want kids and you don’t need to justify that, to me or anyone else. This isn’t a deal breaker, sweetheart, I’m pretty convinced nothing is at this point,” he said and this reassured you slightly, loosened the knot in your stomach slightly.

“You don’t want kids?” you asked, your voice still timid and small. You didn’t want to ask but you needed to know, this was your one shot to get everything out in the open and make sure you were on the same page.

He thought carefully for a moment before answering. “I honestly haven’t given it a lot of thought. My life is so up in the air, literally and figuratively, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to picture slowing down enough to factor kids in. That’s not to say I’ve never wanted them, but I’ve never been attached to the idea.”

“Is it disappointing to know that if you stay with me you’ll never have that option? I don’t want you to have regrets or end up resenting me because I never gave you a family.” Jake’s heart cracked at the look on your face and the emotion thinly veiled in your eyes. In the back of his mind he knew this was coming from somewhere specific… At some point someone had made you feel like you were broken, had either said or made you feel like a life with you wouldn’t be enough without kids and he hated that. He hated that right now it seemed like you were just waiting for him to echo the sentiment and leave you stranded. 

“Sweetheart, if that test had been positive and you wanted to keep it I’d be thrilled to start a family with you, just as thrilled as I am to build a life just the two of us. I don’t love you because of your ability to provide me with a hypothetical family… I love you because you’re you, that’s always going to be enough for me.” Your breathing hitched as you processed his words, you literally felt the weight lift off your chest at the reassurance he really wasn’t going anywhere and it gave your heart the room to thud wildly against your rib cage.

“You love me?” you asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips and his eyes widened. In the heat of the moment he hadn’t realized what he’d confessed and he felt himself flush.

“Yeah, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it just now, or so soon- I do love you but this night has been emotionally overwhelming enough, please don’t feel like you have-“ he was rambling, and you were having a hard time keeping your enjoyment in check. 

Jake was a confident and assured man, it’s part of what drew you to him at first, but now he was a stumbling mess with crimson cheeks because he’d just confessed he loved you and you were sure he’d never been more attractive to you. Not when he sidled up beside you and bought every drink you ordered every time you were in the Hard Deck with that cocky smirk and those sparkling eyes, not when he boldly flirted with you every time he saw you despite Natasha threatening to have him shot out of the sky, and not when he threw an arm around your shoulder and called you his girlfriend with no real confirmation, he just knew you were his and he was yours. None of those moments of the smooth and charismatic Jake you knew compared to this sweet and bashful one in front of you.

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his in a searing kiss, knowing he wouldn’t stop unless you did it for him. He responded instantly and you couldn’t help but giggle as you pulled back. “I love you, too.” you said and in the blink of an eye he regained his confidence, pulling you back into him and kissing you like a man starved. 

“You just made me the happiest man on earth, darlin’,” he said, pecking your lips once more. “A life with you is everything I ever dreamed of. We don’t have to talk about this ever again unless you want to… I just need you to know that I’ll remain the happiest man on earth so long as I’ve got you, no hypothetical children could ever make me regret or resent you.” 

You felt the need to be closer to him and crawled into his lap to wrap around him like a koala, squeezing so tight he let out a strained laugh. “I love you,” you said again as he held you close.

“I love you too, sweetheart… Now what do you say we get some snacks and ice cream and decompress with a movie night?” he asked and your eyes widened as you pulled back, suddenly remembering what you’d left on the counter. 

“My ice cream!” you yelled, disentangling yourself from him and sprinting down the hallway to assess the damage and he trailed behind you chuckling the whole way… he watched you frown as you looked at what had turned into soup and you pulled out your phone, mumbling something about getting it delivered because there was no way you’d go without a sweet treat tonight. He was paying attention, because of course he was, but as he stood leaning against the doorframe looking at you with a lovesick expression on his face he was thinking about the future. 

He saw nights at the bar, you heckling his friends better than he ever could and getting away with it in a way he never did. He saw travel at every opportunity and nights-in just like you were about to have. He saw romantic dinners and fights and nights of endless passion — and maybe he saw a dog down the line. He saw himself putting a big rock on your finger and buying you a house with a porch swing out back because he knew that’s all you really wanted, and it’s there on that swing you’d watch the sun rise and set over the ocean and truly start to grow old together. He saw it all, the good and the bad, in a split second while watching you lean over the kitchen counter, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through your options, and he couldn’t help but beam. ‘As if I could ever regret a life with you,’ he thought.

[frankenkyle19]

“Amaze-Balls”

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader (smut)

word count: 4.1k

we’re so back baby!!! Official kinktober list coming out soon with the actual fic ideas as well for you guys to look forward to. Enjoy. I have to admit my smut writing skills are a little rusty :/

warnings/description: reader is a nurse who is also a mutant with healing powers. She resides at the school and helps patch up any kids that end up hurting themselves. Except it’s usually Peter that’s coming through her door to get fixed up. But today he’s a bit down and reader wasn’t to find out why. Leads to.. Well I’m sure you know. smut, porn with plot, handjob, teasing, slightly sub!Peter, crappy writing oh and a tw for mentions of blood from a minor scrape Peter has.

When Charles Xavier reached out to you, asking if you’d be interested in taking a position at his school, you weren’t sure what to make of it.

Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters

It sounded promising enough. A stable job, a place to live and a place you’d be protected? You were a mutant as well, though you didn’t consider your powers to be as cool as any of the X-men’s. Healing. But not any of the cool, important healing, the most you’d ever been able to heal was a small cut or a broken finger or toe. Ease a bit of pain in the body at times. Still, Charles saw promise and potential in you. He drove you a bit mad at times. The man was odd but my god he was a genius. Sometimes having a conversation with him could actually hurt your brain because you just couldn’t keep up.

You’d also been introduced to the rest of the X-men. Most of which intimidated you. Minus Peter of course.

Peter Maximoff. Closer to your age then the rest of them, Peter was a silver haired kleptomaniac with a Hostess snack cake obsession and super speed. He’d been the only person who’d made you truly laugh since you arrived and it immediately eased you. He hadn’t been there long either so the two of you were sort of in the same boat with feeling a little like outsiders.

Unfortunately you didn’t have a lot of time to speak to him. He was busy with students and missions and you were busy making sure that no one died on the premises. It was a full time job. Literally. A school full of young mutants was a recipe for disaster. Barely held together.

You’d see him at dinners and meetings for the X-men that Charles sometimes allowed you to attend. According to him you’d be one of them one day. When you were stronger. You were sure he meant it to be a kind, hopeful sentiment but really it just made you feel like shit. Useless. Only good enough to be a school nurse.

Peter found any excuse in his free time to come to your office. You were torn between believing he’d truly done it because he wanted to speak with you, and the fact that you always had a little tray of treats for the students after they’d been patched up and treated. You presumed the latter. 

Today was just like any other day at the school really. It had been a quiet morning which turned into a quiet afternoon and it was a much needed break from the chaos. The kids seemed to be behaving themselves today. Knock on wood. 

You were sitting in your chair, feet propped up against your desk as you read from whatever book Charles had recommended you. Surely something you didn’t find any enjoyment in because he read the most boring books on earth. You’d taken one of the cookies from your tray of treats, holding it in one hand while the book was in another.

Just as you brought the cookie to your lips, there was a knock on the door and it caused you to jump, dropping the book onto the floor and losing your place. You cursed under your breath before turning your attention towards the door. Of course just as you’d started to relax someone had ended up hurting themselves.

“Come in!” You set the cookie down on your desk, surely to be forgotten while you waited to see which kid had gotten into trouble this time.

Except when the door opened, a familiar head of silver hair popped into view and it definitely was not attached to the head of a child. Maybe in spirit perhaps, but no, it was Peter.

“Peter?” You asked, brows furrowing as he made his way into your office before closing the door behind him, looking all sheepish and shy. That’s when you noticed he was bleeding from his chin. It looked to be just a scrape but still, you didn’t like the sight of blood on him. Someone you cared about.

“What happened?” You stood up, making your way around the desk to examine him closer.

Peter scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, an embarrassed blush splotched over his cheeks. 

“Oh.. pffff, totally wasn’t running with my eyes closed to try and impress the kids and I definitely didn’t trip on a rock and fall chin first onto the concrete. That’s definitely not what happened.”

Your immediate reaction was to roll your eyes. Leave it to Peter to get the most ridiculous wounds from doing the dumbest things. It just made sense.

“How did you even manage- you know what, I’m not even going to ask. You know the drill, up on the table, let me grab some antibacterial wipes.”

 You made your way over to the cabinets on the opposite wall of your office as Peter hopped up onto the table, eyes never leaving you. He hadn’t hurt himself on purpose but he knew if he had really wanted to he could have put his arms out in time to stop himself from falling. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to see you.

Coming back with the supplies you set it on the side of the table next to him, first getting a wipe to wipe off the blood. It revealed a fresh, raw scrape underneath where more blood began to bubble up slowly from the now open flesh. It wasn’t bad but he’d have a scab for at least a few days before the skin healed itself. 

“You always get yourself into the most ridiculous situations.” You scoffed as you tossed the now bloodied wipe into the small trash can. 

Peter nodded in agreement, unusually quiet which had you wondering if something else was up. You didn’t want to pry though.

You continued on in silence, cleaning the scrape before applying ointment and covering it with a bandage. You pulled away and tossed the rest of the trash away before reaching for the tray to offer Peter a treat, his favorite part of coming to see you.

Except he just shook his head and looked at you solemnly. “No thank you,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he looked away

Okay. Now you knew something had to be wrong. The Peter you knew would never turn down a little treat, it’s what kept him going! You’d never really seen him without one. You were determined to figure out what exactly had bummed him out so badly he didn’t even want a cookie. 

“Peter…” you started, looking at him seriously. “What’s wrong? Something happen?” You hoped that he trusted you enough to tell but then again you weren’t sure.

“What? No.. no it’s nothing.” He flushed red now, picking at his fingers as he avoided your gaze. He hated lying to you. It felt wrong and he knew that you knew he was lying too.

“Peter Maximoff. You’re going to tell me what’s wrong right now or I’m going to have the professor read your mind. Spill.” You urged, kicking his foot with your own, gently. You just wanted to know what had happened to make your usual happy go lucky speedster so upset. 

He finally made eye contact with you then, eyes wide at your threat. “Okay okay! Okay… Jesus.”

He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before he started. “It’s just, I had a date… It went great, she seemed super into me but then she asked me why I’d decided to dye my hair silver and when I explained to her I didn’t do anything to my hair and told her about my powers she totally flipped. She left. Called me a freak and told me to never contact her again.” He rushed out, trying to just get the explanation over with. He didn’t want to talk about it any longer than he had to. It was as embarrassing as it was upsetting. 

There was a silence that fell between the two of you then as you tried to find the words to comfort him. He was obviously torn up about it. Could only imagine how it had felt. You’d never experienced anything like it because your powers were quite easy to hide and play off. Peter’s on the other hand- not so much.

“Oh Peter… I’m sorry that’s-“ you didn’t have the words. Why were people still so cruel to mutants? Would it ever change? You’d heard Charles’s speeches countless times about change, how some day they’d be united but the more time that passed, the less you believed him. Was it even a possibility at this point? 

“That’s horrible. You didn’t deserve that and she didn’t deserve you.” You hoped your words at least brought him a bit of comfort until he opened his mouth and spoke once more, the words he spoke next breaking your heart into pieces.

“Do you think I’m a freak? Like- I get it. The speed, the… The hair.” He’d never really had an issue with his hair but sometimes he wished that he didn’t have it. He’d kill to have a normal color. One that would make him less easy to identify as anything other than normal. But the fact of the matter was he wasn’t normal. Wouldn’t ever be normal as much as he tried to pretend. 

Your brows were furrowed deeply as you reached a hand out to rest on Peter’s shoulder as he sat on the exam table, looking more solemn than you’d ever seen him. It didn’t suit him. You wanted the happy, goofy Peter back.

“You are not a freak, you’re a mutant. There’s a difference. You are you and you shouldn’t have to be scared of showing who you really are, Peter. There are always going to be people who will try and tell you who you should be but you need to listen to your heart.” You rested your palm over his chest, right above his heart as you met his sad, brown doe eyes. 

He seemed to consider your words, picking them apart for a moment before he nodded. You were right after all. He hated how sensitive he could be. Wished he had tougher skin. Perhaps it would come in time, the older he got. He hoped he wouldn’t always have this sort of reaction. 

You gave him a small, warm smile. When you smiled at Peter it wasn’t just with your lips. It was your eyes and the way they lit up. Your nose with the way it scrunched up, and your cheeks with the way they reddened just slightly.  

Peter felt a fluttering in his stomach as he looked at you. You who’d been here all along. He’d always sort of had a thing for you but never believed that he would have a chance. Fuck… He’d been rejected once already, what was one more? 

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

Fuck it. 

“Would you kiss me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper but you heard it clear as day. Why had he asked such a question? You weren’t sure but you were certainly going to give him an answer. 

Without much consideration at all you leaned forward and closed the gap between your lips, closing your eyes as Peter’s warm mouth came in contact with your own. 

It was absolutely electric. The spark that seemed to pass between your bodies as you kissed. It started out slow, calculated and nervous before it began to become more free. Heated. You reached to cup Peter’s cheek in your palm as you leaned closer to him to kiss him deeper. It felt so different then any kiss you’d shared with anyone in the past. This one just felt right. Almost familiar as if the two of you had done it a thousand times before. Maybe in another timeline..

Eventually, much to Peter’s disappointment, you had to pull away to take a breath. Peter let out a quiet whine as his now swollen lips chased your own in desperate attempts to get you back on him again. Like he couldn’t live without it. His lifeline. 

“Slow down,” you laughed softly, cheeks flushed. It was sort of ironic, telling the speedster to slow down because you were sure he probably didn’t know how. 

“Telling me to slow down is like telling a cow not to eat grass,” Peter said with a straight face. Why was he so strange? 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not an actual saying-“

“I’m pretty sure I don’t care- Come back here-��� he grinned as he pulled you into another kiss, his large hands coming to rest on your hips, keeping you close. He didn’t want to ever let you go. Slowly you felt yourself leaning into him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders, feeling the material of his stupid silver jacket under your palms. 

Peter was in heaven. Maybe that woman calling him a freak was the best thing that ever happened to him if it led up to this. Kissing you. He pulled you impossibly closer, feeling a familiar stir in his groin. He let out a little groan against your lips, his hips moving of their own accord trying to seek out much needed friction on his rapidly hardening length. He needed something, anything.

“Please…” He found himself whispering against your lips, already desperate. If he didn’t feel so needy he’d be embarrassed but there was simply just no time for that now.

You were fighting your own losing battle with your body, trying not to feed into the needs you felt when you laid your eyes on Peter, still sat on the table, brown eyes blown wide and lips swollen and red from kissing. He looked like something out of a wet dream.

“Peter we can’t- not here- not right now- what if someone sees?” You tried to be the voice of reason but Peter wasn’t having it. He zoomed over to the door, locked it and then zoomed back to you again, this time coming up behind you, pressing himself against you as he chuckled hotly against your ear. “Door’s locked now. We can do whatever we want.” He pressed warm, open mouthed kisses across the delicate skin of your neck, his hands beginning to creep under the bottom of your shirt.

“Plus I think I need a full body check-up. Just to make sure everything’s alright. That I didn’t hurt myself anywhere else.” 

He was an absolute dork but that’s what you loved about him. With a little laugh you shoved him back against the table before your hands went to his pants, undoing his belt before trying to get the fabric down his legs which proved harder than you originally thought. Why were they so damn tight? Eventually though you did manage to pull them down, leaving him in a pair of black boxers, tented in the front with a rather prominent bulge.

He let out a shaky breath as he watched your every move, waiting to see what you’d do next because right now he was convinced he’d let you do whatever you wanted. Okay… Maybe not whatever. Definitely not like… anything super crazy but- UGH! His brain needed to stop moving so fast and just stay in the moment because he was sure it was about to become really memorable.

Your fingers curled under the waistband of his boxers before you were peeling them down as you got on your knees in front of him.

Poor Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched you, trying to stay still when you pulled his boxers down leaving his lower half completely exposed to you. His length twitched and a shiver ran up his spine as he was exposed to the chill air of the room.

The chill didn’t last though because soon your warm hand was wrapped around him, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to have him gripping the table with his hands, head tilted back as he let out a sigh of pleasure.

You looked up at him, a smirk on your lips as you stroked over him a few times before spitting in your hand and continuing your actions.

A moan bubbled up from Peter’s throat, filling the room before he bit down on his bottom lip to try and stifle the noise. The last thing the two of you needed was for anyone to hear because you’d never live it down.

“Feel good?” You asked, as if Peter’s actions and movements weren’t telling enough.

“Course it does, baby- feels so fucking good I- can you use your mouth?” He asked shyly, glancing down at you.

“Why else would I be on my knees, Peter?” Your words seemed to momentarily make his brain short circuit because the next thing he knew, your beautiful lips were wrapped around the tip of his throbbing cock and he felt his knees nearly buckle at the feeling.

“Holy shit- mmmm, that feels absolutely amazing- like you’ve got no idea-“ 

You liked the way he vocalized his pleasure. It had you wet as you continued to swallow him down as best as you could without gagging. 

Peter’s hips stuttered a bit, trying not to thrust into your mouth. He didn’t want to hurt you but it just felt so good and plus he’d never been great at staying still. It was truly impossible for the speedster.

You didn’t mind, breathing hard through your nose. You took him as deep as you could before pulling off of him to suck in a breath, a string of spit connecting your cherry red lips to the tip of his dick. Now that was hot, Peter thought. Hell, who was he kidding? It was all hot.

“You want to keep going like this or you want to do this properly?” You asked, brow raised at the silver haired man who took a moment to respond. You watched the gears turn in his head until it seemed to click.

“I- Holy hell baby, fuck yeah I want to do this properly let’s get this party started!” He shouted excitedly before you shushed him with a reprimanding look.

You stood up, pulling your shirt over your head before stepping out of your pants as well, leaving you in only your underwear and bra.

Peter whistled low under his breath, shaking his head. You were absolutely smokin’! He mentally kicked himself for not initiating all of this sooner.

“You look- I mean- you’re absolutely beautiful.” He whispered.

“I appreciate it Peter, but I’m not sure how much time we have and I’d like you to take off the rest of your clothes and get this show on the road, yeah? Think you can do that?” Your slight teasing voice had him twitching once more and he quickly threw off his jacket and shirt and kicked his pants the rest of the way off of his legs.

The two of you were urgent with your movements, wanting to get to it before a child inevitably ended up hurting themselves and rushing to your office. Your time was limited but lucky for you, Peter was just about the best person for a quickie. Hell, it was practically in his name.

Your lips collided again, teeth narrowly avoiding clashing against each other as you kissed fiercely.

Peter watched in awe as you unhooked your bra and slid off your panties, letting them join the ever growing pile of fabric on the floor by your feet. 

“Do you have a condom?” You asked Peter. Before you had a chance to blink he rushed out of the room and not even a second later came back with one firmly gripped between his fingers.

“Did you just- Peter you’re naked! What if someone saw you?” You shouted, smacking his shoulder before snatching the condom from him, tearing the foil at the perforated edges before pulling the condom out.

“I’m fast as hell baby, no one was gonna see m-oh-“ He moaned as you rolled the condom onto his length, giving him a few firm strokes for good measure before you hopped up onto the table, spreading your legs to give him a good view of just how much you needed him.

He wasted absolutely no time in grabbing you by your hips and pulling you towards the edge of the table, stepping between your legs as he positioned his rock hard cock at your entrance. He was throbbing and practically shaking with anticipation as he looked up at you once more to make sure this was okay.

You gave him a little nod, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him closer. His tip slid into you with ease thanks to how wet he’d made you and the both of you simultaneously let out a little shaky moan at the feeling.

Peter’s palms rested on either side of you on the metal table. He felt the cold beneath his palms rapidly heating from his body temperature as he glanced down at you. He was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

Slowly he began to press himself farther into you, watching as you just seemed to suck him in. More more more until he was fully seated inside of you, filling you up in such a delicious way that had you practically squirming for him to move.

“Peter- Please-“ You begged, looking up at him, a desperate and pleading look on your face. Peter didn’t waste a second, pulling back just to slam back into you, making your body scoot forward on the table before he was grabbing you and pulling you back.

You let your head fall back against the metal, hands reaching for Peter’s as he began fucking into you at a brutal pace, eyes clenched shut and lip bitten between his teeth.

“Oh Jesus-“ he breathed out. “This is so good- fucking hell you’re so tight- and warm- squeezin’ me like crazy- I’m not gonna last-“ Peter warned, gripping onto your hips so tightly you were sure he was going to leave bruises. But to you they were welcomed bruises. They’d serve as a reminder of the fun you’d had.

“Peter- do me a favor?” You asked, to which he looked down at you immediately, ready to comply with everything you said. “Don’t hold back.” You whispered between the two of you.

Something in Peter snapped and he began to fuck into you at a brutal pace now, the table squeaking with each of his powerful thrusts. He began to vibrate, something you’d soon learn he did when he was close and had a hard time controlling his powers. Something you’d learn to absolutely love. 

He brought one of his hands down to your core, beginning to rub over your clit with his thumb. Just that felt amazing already but then he began to vibrate his thumb, the buzz setting your body alight as you arched into the touch, gasps and moans leaving your lips without thought.

“Peter! I didn’t- I didn’t know you could do that-“

“There's a lot about me you didn’t know. I’m sure you’ll learn soon,” he said in his stupid, flirtatious tone, never stopping his thrusts.

He began to lose his rhythm a bit, brows furrowed, silver hair sticking to his forehead as he tried to hold on. He wanted you to come first.

“Please- please come for me-“ he whispered breathlessly, applying even more pressure to your clit.

You didn’t need much more after that. His words and the buzzing sensation were more than enough to have you flying over the edge, gripping onto the sides of the table as hard as you could as you came, clenching down tightly on his dick, practically trapping him inside your warm, wet walls.

Peter thrust into you a few more times before stilling, filling the condom up so full it might burst. He leaned over your body, panting as the two of you tried to catch your breath.

“That was…” You panted, trying to find the words to even describe how absolutely magical that had been. 

“Amaze-balls?” Peter finished for you, sending you into a fit of laughter as he pulled out of you, tying the condom off and throwing it into the trash.

“That’s not the word I would use, but sure. Yes Peter, it was Amaze-balls.” You scoffed, shaking your head.

Peter grinned lopsidedly at you before gathering up the clothes on the floor, handing yours off to you before he himself put his back on.

“I should get back to teaching the kids. I’ll see you later at dinner?” He asked excitedly.

Your eyes met his, absolutely beaming at you. He was adorable. Irresistible if you will.

“I’ll see you at dinner. Bye Peter.” And just like that, he left in a flash of silver, leaving you alone in your office to change and go back to reading your boring book and eating your cookie.

Amaze-balls.

[avelera]

So my silly little fanfic trope-y Hob amnesia fic (where Hob gets cursed to lose 100 years of memories each night not long after he and Dream start dating officially, so Dream gets a walk down memory lane with all the past Hobs) is becoming a lot more in-depth as I write (it's at 45k words now and I suspect it'll be at least 65k total).

But one of the things I hope readers will realize coming into it is that this is basically a novel. The characters are going to have arcs. And really the main arc is going to be around how Hob and Dream maybe got together in the 21st century before they actually resolved the communication issues that have dogged their relationship since literally the day they met.

And I admit, it's a little weird to be trying to write "Dreamling, but they actually kind of suck at dating" lol like... so much of fanfiction in general kinda runs on the assumption of "once the main couple officially get together, it's going to be great!"

So I hope that people don't get turned off because this fic doesn't open with them getting together and then everything is fine. It actually opens up with they get together and come very close to fumbling the ball! And I worry some Dreamling shippers might not like to read like... "Hey the fairytale ending is just the beginning here, these two aren't perfect and there's a lot left for them to figure out."

Like there's very much a thesis going in of, "Actually, even if they did jump into bed together, Hob and Dream still have a lot of shit to work out between them and might come very close to Not Making It as a couple because they never actually fixed the communication thing before they started fucking. They're going to need to fix that before they actually have a shot and yeah, it could just as easily have been Hob who fucks it up because he has, on numerous occasions over the centuries of knowing Dream, completely missed the mark when he tried to guess what Dream wants and he is perilously close to doing the same goddamn thing again now that they're dating." Fortunately, Hob then gets cursed by an angry witch in true nonsense fanfic-y fashion and Dream gets a reminder of all the different sorts of people Hob has been over the years and there's your plot right there so I'm not going to spoil it too much, but... it's been interesting to decide to actually write how they initially got together in the 21st century for this fic, early drafts just skipped over it and told the audience what had happened, because it's really pulling into focus kinda what this fic is about and why it's not just a silly amnesia story, it really is about Dream pulling back the layers of Hob and who Hob is to him and who he has been to Hob over the years as the real start of their relationship, if it's going to survive.

[thesirencove]

ᨒ ོ ☼ YOU'VE BECOME MY CEILING -- SAM WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

another angst fic !! i love writing angst so this is nothing new from me ofc :) once again , this is a fic i posted on a previous blog , which i since removed from said blog as i decided to focus on another topic . so i'm here to once again share my works :) i've also since edited this fic a bit , as i wrote it a bit ago !! let me know your thoughts on this one and enjoy <3

my requests are open and let me know if anyone would like a part two to this !

tissues are once again needed and there is no use of y/n in this fic

sam winchester x fem!reader (romantic)

summary: when sam pulls away, and reader just can't keep going. loosely based on the song "the gold" , specifically phoebe bridgers version

warnings: break ups (sorta ?) , minor descriptions + mentions of suffocation (if you blink you'll probably miss it) , abandonment , loss of love (to some degree) , unrequited love but not really (???) , sad sam (again </3)

word count: 1.8k

love was difficult. it was consuming. beautiful. costly. the best feeling in the world, and the worst one. it was all of these things at the same time. 

sometimes it was the most freeing thing in the world. other times it was suffocating. it could be a good suffocating, at times. the love so overwhelming that she burst with joy at the feeling. a love she held so closely that she couldn’t find ways to express it any further even as she drowned in the feeling.

other times it made her want to cry everything out. it made her want to collapse on the floor, heart and lungs heavy. it made her dread the silence during fights, or the sleepless nights waiting for a phone call back. it made her dread the days spent waiting for him to come home. the tears welling up in her eyes when she could only imagine the worst as minutes became hours, which would become days and eventually weeks. it was dreadful.

but the good parts made up for it. the nights spent curled up in each others’ arms. hearing each others’ shallow breaths as they slept. the warmth of being near one another. the way the light shone in a different way, because things were good. things were calm. he was home and so was she. the smiles rarely ever left either of their faces. being in close proximity was all they needed. they’d talk, but the silence was just as peaceful. it wasn’t deafening or painful. it didn’t make her heart wrench. both of them were safe and in love and happy. 

that’s not the way it was now. right now the silence was heavy. so was her heart. her lungs felt like they were constricting. like there wasn’t enough air left for her to breathe. it felt like their love was dying out. like the flame they’d so carefully spent time fostering was dying out, providing barely any light. she didn’t want it to. she was grabbing at it, pulling it back towards her, like a child trying to save their most prized possesion that’s about to be thrown out. she tried to save it. so, so hard. she would spend nights awake, thinking how to fix things. how to make it better, for both of them. how to make sure they were both safe and in love and happy again. 

but he wasn’t making that effort. he had shut down. she didn’t know what it was. he came home one day after weeks of no contact on a long hunt, and since then it’s been like this. she had to tiptoe around him on eggshells. the feeling of acid burning her throat never left. she tried to get him to talk. to say something. to open up to her, so she could help him. but he had snapped. she wouldn’t give up, though. she tried, again and again. it always ended the same, with sam angry and her silent tears soaking the pillow. after months of trying she decided it wasn’t worth pushing any further. 

he would open up in time, right? he just needed to find the initiative to come to her himself, to not be forced into opening up, right? things would get fixed in time and it would be all okay again. but it didn’t happen. the time didn’t come. and yet again, hours would become days, which would be come weeks and slowly those weeks would become months. except this time he wasn’t away. he was home. he was with her. and yet the distance between them was further than ever before.

i love you, she thought.

i love you with all my heart and soul. i love you unconditionally. i love you even through the heaviness in my heart and the tears that stain my cheeks every day. 

but it’s just not enough, she realized. her one-sided love wasn’t enough. she couldn’t be the only person with love in this relationship. it was slowly breaking her, tearing her apart. she was a shell of herself now, just as sam has been these past few months.

so she packed a bag. just one. only what she needed. not everything. she left the rest. she would be coming back. she knew she would. a love like this doesn’t just end. there’s bumps in the road. there always are. but this bump needed a little extra time and care. and that had to come in the form of being away. she needed to be able to breathe. perhaps he, too, needed space. 

distance makes the heart grow fonder, no?

and with that one bag in hand, she left the room she shared with him. with her sam. the love of her life. the man who now sat at the kitchen table, absolutely unrecognizable. she watched him from afar. sitting there, motionless. a bottle of beer stood in front of him. 

she placed her bag down where she was, positioning it so he wouldn’t see. and she entered the kitchen.

one last time, she thought to herself. she wouldn’t be saying goodbye. that’s not what this was. she was going to be back. but she couldn’t leave without seeing him one more time. giving him one last kiss before she was gone. 

“sam,” she croaked out. her voice was barely louder than a whisper. he didn’t respond.

“sam,” she said once again, louder this time. it caught his attention. he looked up at her.

“i love you,” she said to him. her eyes were glossy. she was breathing as evenly as she could, her lungs constricting as her heart beat so fast that she practically felt it in her throat. she didn’t want him to see her cry, even though he had so many times in the past. 

“mhm,” was his only response. he looked away from her soon after, his motions so slow they were almost robotic. it was as though he were on autopilot, picking up his beer and taking a swig of it. she took that as her sign. her final push. to do this. to take some time away from him, let him figure things out. he wasn’t going to do that with her around. these past few months have proven that. even through every time she tried to help him, to figure out why he’d shut down, he would just push her further away. she bent down and placed a kiss to his forehead.

i’m sorry, she thought to herself.

and so she took one last look at him. she turned towards the door. and she walked out. moving her legs was a chore. it was difficult and every bone in her body screamed at her to turn back around. to get down on the floor, to her knees, and beg him to talk to her, to tell her what was wrong. but it wouldn’t work. she knew that, because she already tried it. 

so against every instinct in her body, against every thought in her head but one, she grabbed the bag she had hidden behind the wall outside the kitchen, and left. 

sam heard the door close. he didn’t think much of it. a day later, when the house was quieter than he was used to, he glazed over the thought that she wasn’t back yet. but that one day had yet again become days, which had eventually become a week. something changed in him. he called her. he rung her phone non-stop. he left message after message. he had sat in that same spot in the kitchen, phone in hand, waiting for her to pick the phone back up. but she hadn’t.

he had finally woken up from his daze. he finally realized that he had lost her. it took her leaving for him to realize that things weren’t okay. that he wasn’t okay. none of it was. 

he wished he had told her, that he opened up to her about what happened on that hunt. about how he tried to save a child, and couldn’t. how he saw himself in this young boy, so frightened and yet trying to show strength. a child that he then saw buried by his family a week later. the monsters in town were gone thanks to him, but a child had died. and he couldn’t forgive himself for that, he couldn’t bring himself to function properly. this child, so closely mirroring his younger self was gone because of him. and so he shut down.

she tried to help him, to get him to open up, but goddamnit he just wouldn’t listen. and now he’d lost her, too. she was gone, not answering the phone. he wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back, though he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. 

and one lonely night in november, sam was laying in her room. he’d been curled up in a ball on her bed, her scent having nearly faded completely, when he saw the leather poking out from inside her closet. and he got up. pulled out what it was that caught his eye. 

her journal. the one thing she refused to go anywhere without, she had left behind. so he opened it. and he read, and read, and read. he couldn’t stop reading. and he hated himself more and more with each entry. he knew he shouldn’t have read it, but he couldn’t help himself. he wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back, and this was the closest thing to her that he now had.

he watched their love crumple in front of his eyes, the memories burnt into the pages. but their love wasn’t enough for it to stay. 

it’s my fault, he’d repeat in his head. over and over and over again. non-stop, like a mantra. and when he got to the last page, he had felt his heart shatter. he had become physically ill at what he read. 

it’s like he’s become my ceiling, the page read. 

a blank wall i stare at, unmoving and not in love with me, no matter how much i may love him, it finished.

and just like that, sam winchester had broken himself more than he had already been broken. but he would wait. he’d wait for her to return. he’d look for her. he’d hope that she’d come back. and in the meantime he’d work on himself. fix himself. he’d pull himself out of the rut he was in, so that when she came back, he could give her all the love in the world again. so she could look at him with all the light in the world once more. 

he would become her the sun again and brighten her world. he realized that he needs to open up to her, that he can rely on her. he doesn’t have to be scared of her love anymore. she wouldn’t run away if he told her what happened. she’d only love him unconditionally. and oh, how sam wished she were still here.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds - William Nylander

The Sweden Chapter - Part Two Link to Part One is here

A/N - So, I know I've mentioned a baker's dozen times that my tendency is to write longer fics, even than what I initially intend to. So I'm introducing Part Two now...with the understanding that a third part is required to hopefully tie up all the loose ends between William and Loren. Nevertheless, @misshoneyimhome, we're getting there! Again, thank you for always being so open AND encouraging to talk it out whenever a Loren/Willy thought comes up that I need to work through. Notes and Warnings - goes without saying - profanity, smut (basic p in v, oral - m receiving). Any references to past "goings on" between players and an ex, or current girlfriends, friends etc. in this piece is strictly fiction.

Word count - 5.9k 18+ only please.

Recap - Round One for the Leafs seemed to be plagued with a string of unfortunate events right from the very beginning. After the “Where’s Willy” fiasco began to dissipate, more unusual circumstances took hold which further casted a shadow over the Maple Leafs. As the games in the round progressed, the Leafs lost their grip in Games 3 and 4, finding themselves in a precarious position by Game 5. To add to matters, star player Auston Matthews fell ill, and even more speculation swirled about the almost 70 goal scorer’s dedication to winning. The situation reached a boiling point when cameras caught the 3 star forwards arguing on the bench which quickly went viral. As some headlines alluded to, it really seemed like the team was a total dumpster fire. The team had reached new heights of pressure and scrutiny within Leafs Land.

However, just when all seemed lost, the Leafs mounted a remarkable comeback. After Game 5, William, with an extraordinary performance, single-handedly scored all goals in both Games 6 and 7. Given the tight defense known in playoff hockey, scoring those goals, 3 in total, was an impressive feat. As if the Leafs got a shock from a defibrillator, the team and the city suddenly had renewed hope in mounting a surge to take Game 7.

Joe Woll stood tall, delivering an almost flawless performance in Game 6. He came excruciatingly close to securing a shutout, showcasing his outstanding ability under pressure.

Unfortunately, Woll's sustained an injury late in Game 6, leaving the team without their hot starter for the crucial Game 7.

With Woll sidelined, the responsibility fell to Ilya Samsonov, affectionately known as "Sammy" by his teammates and fans. Samsonov fought hard in the crease in Game 7, making several crucial saves to keep the Leafs' hopes alive. Despite his best efforts and the team's perseverance, fate had other plans. In a heartbreaking turn of events, the Bruins managed to clinch the series victory in overtime, sending the Leafs to yet another first-round exit. The tortured fans, players, and franchise were once again dejected—while others were spurned and filled with outrage.

In the aftermath of the disappointing playoff run, Loren and William maintained sporadic communication. Their interactions were affectionate but brief. Loren was back working several overnight shifts at the group home while scheduling and making lesson plans for her French students. She also wanted to give William the time and space that she felt he needed in the days after Game 7.

William had taken the loss hard, and as much as he wanted to feel Loren's presence, he also wanted to steer clear of feeling the void once she left him again. Instead, he navigated through exit meetings, locker clean-out day, and catching up with friends. He began to feel a sense of excitement as offseason travel plans were confirmed, as well as family get-togethers at their lake house in Sweden.

The day William was scheduled to leave for Stockholm hit Loren harder than she anticipated. She wasn't sure of the time of his flight, but it didn't matter anyway. She already had a pit in her stomach just with the knowledge. She told herself that perhaps by the time William returned for the 2024 season, something between them would be solidified, whether it would break her heart or not. A lot could change for both of them in the coming months.

Outside his building, William loaded his SUV with some additional hockey gear when a message from Loren appeared on his cell. It was a heartfelt note—humorous, nostalgic, and positive. He'd planned to make last-minute stops for Toronto souvenirs for the younger kids in his family, but suddenly, seeing Loren seemed far more important.

Truth be told, he was only planning on video-calling her once he was at the airport. He had a lot of emotions swirling around, especially for Loren. He didn’t want do that Hollywood scene of him driving away, leaving the woman he cared for behind.

However thoughts lingered in his head that it was a shitty thing to do given all the support she gave him, and well - just her being her.

William, who rarely made impulsive decisions, changed his mind. He decided to surprise her and to say goodbye in person before his departure.

The 40-minute drive north felt oddly therapeutic, trading the shadows of the city's high-rises with the shade of mature trees. William thought to himself how much he enjoyed escaping to Loren's here and there after they met. Pablo and Banksy had a yard to run around in, while William and Loren snuggled in a lounge chair on the deck, mouths red from making out.

William had checked that Loren was home before he departed, thanks to her location settings still enabled on her phone. It was weeks ago that William asked her to turn the share location settings on, just to see who would arrive at his condo first - him from the airport and her from the suburbs. He won the race - but she got the reward of him, impatiently waiting and hungry for her to get there.

He pulled along the curb to her house, finding her outside, engrossed in yard work with her earbuds in. She had her long mane pulled through the back of a baseball cap, and the rest of her exposed skin was streaked with dirt and covered in sweat.

William couldn't help but be impressed by the sight of Loren working in her yard. Not to mention that he found her absolutely stunning this way. He surveyed her house, she had accomplished a lot since he was there last. Her porch was adorned with flower containers that had started to blossom with vibrant colors, and had large hanging ferns which added an almost tropical flair. This house represented more than just a roof over Loren's head, and the way she cared for it spoke volumes about how much she effort she put in her surroundings. For a moment, William found himself imagining what it would be like to come home to her, knowing how calm and peaceful she made his space feel too.

Loren turned and spotted William walking up the path. Her eyes lit up and she flashed him a bright smile as as he approached her.

He started to pull her in for a hug her when she stopped him, shaking her head. “I’m filthy, sweaty and probably smell like…hmm….well, never mind - just not good…” she laughed.

William brought her into him and hugged her tightly anyway.

He told her she looked like she could use a break and commented that her yard looked phenomenal. The two walked into the house together, making the typical small talk - Loren asking questions, William answering and then a little bit of teasing each other.

Loren offered William a drink, which he accepted. They sat under the pergola of the back deck, which also boasted lush green plants that provided additional privacy.

Although the conversation remained easy, there was a weight to the overall mood and tone. Loren mentioned how strange it was not to see the dogs trotting through the house after him. Once she said it, her throat tightened with emotions that she had been fighting to subdue. Knowing Pablo and Banksy were already in Stockholm underscored the finality of William's departure.

William could see Loren's efforts to remain composed and positive, knowing that there was a cyclone of feelings that churned inside each of them. She continued to show interest in how the first weeks back in Stockholm would look for him. He wanted to ask her more, but she'd always turn the subject back onto him, almost as though she assumed her plans wouldn't interest him.

It's not how he felt. Not by a mile, but he had a flight to catch, so his questions were left unanswered.

Loren glanced at her watch and knew that William needed to leave. She reached for his empty glass as he stood, following her back into the house.

She set the glasses down on the counter and they began to walk to the front door. Loren was beginning to say her goodbyes, her voice not yet breaking but on its way.

He took a chance and pulled her tightly against him, telling her how deeply he appreciated everything she did for him. He had thought of a million ways to thank her but, knowing how stubborn she'd be in accepting any gratitude, he set his thoughts aside. Yet, he wanted to make sure she heard him now.

Loren's throat tightened as she fought to maintain composure. She endured the firm embrace, yearning for it to never end. William’s kiss followed, a moment so intense it seemed to lift her off her feet. And once again, he was gone.

As William drove away, he grappled with conflicting emotions. He felt he shouldn't be leaving her—she should be coming with him. He understood Loren's past necessity to "live to work," but he admired her tireless efforts to shift towards "working to live."

All the same, it frustrated him that she'd probably never accept anything from him costlier than a meal in an expensive restaurant. Even if he offered to take her on a trip, she'd likely decline, unable to afford "her half” of the cost. Shaking his head at the thought of her stubbornness, he continued his drive back to the city.

Meanwhile, Loren began to undress and have a long, hot shower. The tears that had welled up in her eyes after William had left had fallen, been swiped away, and now had vanished. As she stood in the steady stream of warm water, she contemplated that she had the same thought as the last time he left. She would miss him. She felt he was inherently good and kind, and would always cherish her moments with him.

At the same time, Loren knew the months ahead for each of them would be totally different.

William's days would be filled with seeing friends and family, attending get-togethers, celebrations, and just catching up with loved ones.

He would travel, eat, and drink, while meeting the most beautiful women, whom one, or even a few, might be blessed by his touch throughout the night.

Loren's imminent future, albeit not nearly as glamorous as William's, still excited her. From her staunchly frugal ways in the past, she had learned to save money, which she squirreled away for something unusual—special. She was considering a much-needed break. Two weeks in the Caribbean sounded heavenly, and she almost had the funds to make the trip happen, plus cover whatever time away from work that her vacation pay wouldn't cover.

The additional funds she had begun to make with her tutoring were making other dreams she had more of a reality as well. Loren felt like she was getting control of her life, and it felt good.

—

The remainder of May, and throughout June was spent in William’s traditional manner, a much-deserved period of decompression after a rollercoaster of a season. The 2023/2024 season was one to remember for William. He began the season breaking personal and franchise records, dominated the headlines on and off the ice at the Global Series in Stockholm, and was a fan-voted addition to the All-Stars. He broke his season point total, and scored 40 goals for the second season in a row.

He earned every bit of rest, relaxation and time spent doing whatever he wanted.

William's calendar quickly filled up with an array of engagements. His phone buzzed constantly with invitations from friends eager to catch up. There were tennis matches to watch, exotic vacations to take, golf games to win, and family to visit. With a constant jammed-packed itinerary, moments when he was alone were rare. Nevertheless, William happily immersed himself in the vibrant social life that accompanied his stardom.

However, in those moments he found himself alone, he would occasionally scroll through pictures during his times with Loren. Some were posed shots but some were candid moments. Either way, her beauty and her sweetness was captured in each one. He thought about messaging her, but with hundreds of message notifications every time he accessed his phone, he continually put it off. He considered for a brief moment to call, but he was stuck in a suspended state in his mind - wanting to talk to her but inevitably talking himself out of it.

In late June, William was out to dinner with friends before he departed for the annual Nylander family vacation. It was a fun and casual dinner with one of his closest friends and former teammate, Rasmus Sandin (aka Sandy), as well as few hockey players from Modo, his former hockey club in Sweden.

William’s phone buzzed as it did continuously throughout the day, but this time, the sender caught his attention. It was Max Domi, William’s teammate. Max and William were friends, but at that moment, William found it odd that Max would message him outside of their customary group chat.

Sandy saw the perplexed look on William’s face and leaned in to glance at his phone. The two shared no secrets so William angled his phone for Sandy to see.

Max’s note to go with the accompanying picture was fairly simple.

M - Look who came to visit Estelle today…

A picture of Loren appeared. Estelle, Max’s girlfriend who is a professional make-up artist, took a candid shot of her new model, as Loren touched up her lipstick.

Loren’s image jolted William. He felt an ache deep within him as he absorbed every detail of the photo. Her hair was loosely pinned on either side, her long, sandy blonde curls fell across her back. The little simple satin little black dress that adorned her curves perfectly.

Sandy’s brows lifted on his face as he turned to his long-time buddy. “Who’s that? Wait…that’s - is that Loren?”

“Yeah, that’s her. Fucking Max, man - I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

“What- so he sent you the picture? What is she doing with him?” Sandy shook his head. “Does he know you two were sort of dating or whatever it was?” Sandy’s expression was a mix of confusion and wariness on William’s behalf.

William exited the picture and re-read Max’s tex. “Hold on - he said she was visiting Max’s girlfriend. Ok, yeah….they’ve met, I knew they had been talking here and there, but I don’t get why she’s all dressed up, like hair and make-up sort of thing.”

Sandy rolled his eyes a little, feeling the answer was pretty obvious. “Probably club-hopping…”

It was William’s turn to roll his eyes. “At 2 in the afternoon? C’mon man.” William chuckled.

Sandy shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn’t been taken at a different time….fuck’d if I know….just guessing.”

William’s stomach was turning, which turned him off the rest of his burger. He texted Max back, and the two quickly caught up with their whereabouts and other goings on.

He was glad the boys just wanted to head home after dinner - William was in no mood for going out to a bar. All he could think about is going home and calling Loren. And that’s exactly what he did.

William messaged Loren first to find out if she was busy. It didn’t take her long to respond, first with a buoyant greeting, followed by she’s at work but she can talk for awhile.

Loren was outside at the group home taking a break on the patio when William video called her. She still had whatever make-up hadn’t evaporated or rubbed off from her visit with Estelle. William was completely mesmerized for a moment when he saw her on the screen.

The pair chatted enthusiastically as Loren asked a million questions, while William willingly answered them all.

In reality though, he was the one with the burning questions and he patiently waited for the right moment.

It came when Loren apologized for bombarding him, and asked if everything was ok.

“Oh, yeah - everything’s good….I just - Max sent me a pic of you today and —”

Loren interrupted with an apologetic groan. “Fuck, I’m so sorry - I told him not to bug you with that.” Loren continued with a slight laugh. “I don’t know if you have to use reverse psychology to get Max to listen - I just didn’t want him to bother you on vacation.”

“Loren - it’s no bother - it’s a beautiful picture…I’m glad he sent it but I didn’t really understand…I mean, are you and his girlfriend hanging out or….like three of you or….?” William’s voice trailed off.

“No, I - not really. Estelle and I sort of kept in touch after we met that first time you brought me out at that lounge. I needed some advice from her and I reached out. Ended up taking some pictures at her little studio.”

William's nerves began to settle. He realized that he had a certain possessiveness towards Loren, especially a) when he was thousands of kilometers away from where she was and b) she was in close proximity to Max, his current teammate. Max had a "shared" experience with a girl that later dated William, which added to his overall unease.

Loren explained that an unsolicited and unexpected opportunity arose which just happened to be right up her alley. The catch, however, was that it involved Loren teaching French dialogue to mature students, which would be recorded and posted across a number of social media platforms. Loren was never one to post much online, and William saw the humor in Loren landing a job that would shove her completely out of her comfort zone.

Loren heard William laughing as she rhymed off every self-deprecating thought she had about being in front of a camera. She jokingly scoffed at William not to make fun of her as she laughed along with him.

Despite her own misgivings, the company that hired her was thrilled with what they saw, but they wanted Loren a little more "glammed up," so she reached out to Estelle to help balance her makeup with the ring lights used for recording content.

William asked how the company discovered her in the first place.

Loren sighed. "Oh god—it was Chelsea, my friend's daughter, who roped me into doing this thing for her new position at her work. She's the one who lent me all of those clothes—you know, that red dress and—"

William fucking loved that dress on her. "I remember it well—you surprised me in it one night… that was a fucking good night…"

"Mmmm… it was," Loren said affectionately. She remembered it well. too. William had invited her to stay after returning from a road trip to Buffalo back in late March. The minute William walked in and saw her in that dress, he bent her over the arm of his couch. It was the first time he had been more dominant with her, and she couldn't get enough of him that night.

Loren had to veer off the memory lane of past sex-capades with William and get back on the subject.

"I just—I have never really gotten into the whole influencer, content creation stuff… I didn't really realize how it all worked. I've known Chelsea for a long time—she's always asking to style me. When I agreed, she kind of interviewed me about the tutoring thing after I was all dolled up. She presented it to her company, they loved it and she got the green light to post it. One thing led to another and all of a sudden, I get hired doing this. It's unreal how quickly it's all happened."

William had a sinking feeling. Loren truly was a rare diamond, and he knew how lucky he was to know her. But with her beauty, both inside and out, she was going to garner a lot of attention online. William knew how unfair it was to feel this way, but he didn't want others to know how amazing and special she is—like she was this exquisite secret that only he knew about.

"So would I be considered a mature student? Could you give me a French lesson for free? Heading to Saint-Tropez in a few days so I could use some help," William smiled as he spoke.

"Mature might be a stretch—," Loren laughed.

"Hey now—be nice…," William teasingly warned.

"Hmmmm….knowing the things you’ll get up to, one phrase should suffice. I’m surprised it's not in your normal Saint Tropez repertoire. Ready? Okay - here it is. 'Voulez-vous… coucher…"

"Oh my fucking —come on…," William laughed.

Loren drew out every single syllable. "Avec moi… ce soir."

William could feel the heat rising in his face. She assumed he would be on some sort of fuck fest while on vacation. Maybe that was accurate once upon a time but not as much nowadays, and certainly not while he was with family.

"That hurts that you think that… I'm not with a different girl every day…," William played it off as a joke but it did hurt his feelings a little.

Loren thought about uttering one more jab, but he did sound a little miffed. "Sorry, just jealous I suppose… I admit it." William could hear her smiling as she conceded.

After ending the call with Loren, William felt the same unsettling sensation growing in his core. once again. He threw a few more items in his suitcase, closed it up and wheeled it aside while he tried to calm how aggravated he felt.

He sent a text to female friend from his Stockholm roster. A beneficial friend that he felt might help take the edge off.

He received a quick response. She’d be over in an hour.

—

The pairing between the Nylanders and Saint-Tropez is like discovering the perfect wine to pair with a gorgeous meal. Life is so good when they're together.

This year's trip to the south of France expanded beyond the immediate family and significant others. William and Alex invited friends to join them at various points during their stay at the villa. Alex had rekindled his relationship with his former flame, Isla, whose closest friends also arrived as part of the group.

Their place of sunny refuge was usually buzzing with people, either staying back to enjoy some peace by the pool or venturing into town for some shopping.

When "the boys" were there, they worked out together on the pool deck, every muscle group being worked—their darkening skin glistened with sweat in the sun.

When "the girls" were there, they lay in the sun by the pool, their perfectly formed ass cheeks tanned golden brown.

William generally kept his distance while harmlessly admiring Isla's friends from afar. Margot, one of Isla's closest friends, admired William too, but she made her intentions far more obvious than he did on a few occasions.

Isla was thrilled with the thought of Margot getting with William. One of her best friends with Alex's brother who was also his closest friend—it would be a dream. As they got older, they'd get married, children may come, their summers spent together.

Isla could picture it all.

Alex, on the other hand, tried to temper Isla's expectations. He was aware that William, who remained stoically single, might not have any long-term interests in Margot. After hearing how Loren stayed with William during his episodes, and noticing the way William looked when he talked about her, it was clear to Alex that his brother's interests remained tied to Loren.

Meanwhile, William was thoroughly enjoying his time with family and friends, but the inkling he had back in Stockholm—a feeling he couldn't pinpoint or define—would materialize every now and again.

When it was there, it nagged him… like the feeling of walking into a room and forgetting why he was there. There was no pattern or explanation that William could think of for why he sometimes felt a yearning for something that seemed to elude him.

Other times, he knew he was envious while watching Alex and Isla kiss and hold hands as they walked in town.

These unresolved feelings were what motivated him to put his guard down with Margot, allowing her to make a move late one evening in the pool.

Her advances were initially playful as she toyed with him under the water's surface. Soon, her hands moved more explicitly over William's swim shorts, charming his cock with the palm of her hand.

Mouths were soon attached to skin, breasts were exposed, and one need pressed firmly against another.

William followed Margot as they quietly made their way to William's bedroom. She had a towel wrapped around her lean, naked body while William had her string bikini wadded up in his hand.

Margot was young, pretty and slender—a description which seemed totally interchangeable with the females in Isla's friend group.

William lay on his back, naked—his erection levitated his cock slightly. Margot slid her body between his legs as she ran her fingers up his chest.

"I saw the pictures from your first vacation," Margot purred. "Loved your bare chest."

Given that William's chest hair was starting to grow back, he was confused if she was complimenting him or not.

Margot soon had William's cock in her mouth. She felt good, but the sound of her slurping seemed to increase and echoed throughout the room. William really didn't want anyone to overhear, so he gently asked Margot if she could go more slowly, to which she obliged.

William tried all of his usual moves to get the mood going within him. He smoothed back her hair as her eyes fixed on his while she sucked his cock. As he watched her, suddenly a flash of Loren's face exploded in his mind. William laid back, remembering how Loren's gaze was so hypnotic, it always rendered William defenseless as she took her time feasting on him.

William's mind snapped back to Margot as she rapidly stroked his shaft. He thought he heard her call him "Daddy," but he wasn't sure. He had nothing against being called that as a rule, but he was not in the mood for it right then.

Enthusiastically, she climbed on top of him, lowered herself down onto his cock in a slow squat using his outstretched arms for leverage. William's body bounced against the mattress as Margot whimpered, gliding up and down his cock. William cupped under her ass cheeks to help alleviate the muscle strain in her legs of each squat as her pussy slid up and down his shaft. Margot's long blonde hair looked like hand-spun gold silk as she threw her head back and continued to bounce on top of him.

Much like the slurping, the sound of skin slapping against skin seemed to reverberate rather loudly.

William propped himself up, allowing Margot to hold onto his shoulders and slide down his shaft while he began driving himself upward. The sex was quieter until Margot began to slap her own ass and moan.

William politely told her they had to be a little quieter. His parents and sisters were just down the hall.

Margot nodded as she switched from squatting to straddling his cock.

As she laid him back, another image of Loren appeared in William's mind. The memory of their last time together where Loren took complete care of him in every way. How she took her time, wanting him to feel the very heights of pleasure. And he did, with the two orgasms she skillfully coaxed out of him.

William's fingers tweaked Margot's nipples as she rode him rhythmically.

Margot began grinding furiously on his cock. She gripped William's wrist with one hand while stroking her clit with the other. She tried to stifle her cries as she clenched and quivered with the intensity of her release.

There was nothing William could do about the loud creaks from the bed or the panting from Margot after she climaxed.

If anyone does hear, maybe they'll assume it was Alex and Isla, William hoped.

After Margot's orgasm, she focused on William. She sucked, licked, and stroked his cock but frustratingly, his orgasm was just out of reach.

Taking a breather, she lay on her back stroking herself as William took the reins and began lightly and rapidly stroking near his tip. As he kneeled beside her, Margot smiled up at William, biting her lip as she played with her pussy.

The room was quiet, minus the sound of wetness from between Margot's legs and the distinct jerking motion of William's hand. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth as the pressure of arousal began to build.

He heard Loren's soft voice playing inside of his head. He would hear her say that she wanted so badly to taste him. She would moan his name, telling him how incredible he felt. She would breathlessly say how amazing he was to her.

He felt his orgasm taking hold. "Can you touch my balls—just touch them gently," William quietly instructed Margot.

That's what Loren would do. She had a natural sense of what would provide William the most intense pleasure, despite her limited sexual experience.

Margot began to fondle his balls and lick the tip of his cock as he continued to pump himself faster.

William's muscles around his torso began to clench as his orgasm hit and spurts of cum landed on Margot's cheek and lips.

She promptly wiped herself off with the bunched-up sheets that felt moist to the touch from their bodies' bliss. She stood up on the mattress, kissed William, and sauntered into the washroom to freshen up.

William sat at the edge of the bed, his cock softening as he focused on the light from the washroom.

This was the second time he had trouble finishing. He had faced the same frustration with the tryst he had in Stockholm before he left for Saint-Tropez.

He felt a deep-seated frustration now. This was not a Margot issue or his friend-with-benefits issue.

This was a William issue.

He pulled on his shorts and waited for Margot to exit the bathroom. He wasn't keen on having her sleep there—it would be awkward enough if they had been heard through the thick walls of their villa. Seeing them exit his bedroom together would add to the quiet and questioning looks he might receive from his parents.

Margot meandered back towards the bed with a fresh towel wrapped around her. "I probably should go back to my room. I don't know what everyone will think if they find me in bed with you tomorrow morning."

"Oh, yeah?" William made it sound like the same thought hadn't occurred to him. "Maybe, yeah… don't need to take the risk right now. Good idea." He smiled as she approached him, giving him a light kiss on the mouth.

"Thanks, Willy—that was fun… maybe we can figure out another time when no one's around before I leave?" Margot was hopeful she'd have another chance with him, but she wasn't going to hold her breath.

William nodded. "For sure we can." It was somewhere between a fib and the truth.

After Margot closed the door, William grabbed his phone.

Loren was all he had on his mind now.

He opened up YouTube and searched "Chelsea" plus "Loren Girard". He immediately got a hit.

William's eyes were glued to the screen watching as Chelsea, whose personality was as spicy as her wardrobe choices, interviewed Loren while her hair and makeup were done, adding an intimate behind-the-scenes feel to the segment. Loren was simply charming with her humble yet vibrant disposition, while articulating genuine and thoughtful responses.

William had expected to see Loren nervous about being in front of a camera, based on her own admissions. If she was nervous, it never showed—only her grace and poise were apparent.

At the end of the interview, they showed Loren in five outfit ensembles, all from budget-friendly sources. Loren made her little plug, encouraging everyone to keep the art of verbal communication alive in any language, and mentioned her tutoring venture as her last point.

The segment was exactly as it should be: informative, entertaining, and uplifting.

William rested against the headboard of his bed and looked back down at his phone.

It dawned on him what the feeling was that had been plaguing his mind—his insides.

He had to try and fix it and do something about it.

He swiped open his message app, found Loren's name and their last text exchange.

William typed in a simple statement.

W - I miss you so much.

—

Loren sat at her new-to-her desk that she had salvaged, repaired, and repainted with relative ease. Part of her new third job, which took up a minimal number of hours per week, was learning to edit the videos that she records.

While she replayed, layered, and snipped each recording, she snacked on her dinner, which was a small meal of avocado toast. It was far too hot to cook.

Her phone chimed right at the point where she was about to add animations to the reel. Whoever texted her would have to wait.

Loren sighed deeply as she turned her focus back to the screen. Replaying her segment, she tested some filters and made other enhancements until she was satisfied with the end result.

Once she clicked save on the final edit, she rubbed her eyes under the reading glasses she finally accepted that she needed. She stretched while padding to the kitchen and grabbed herself a vodka cooler from the fridge. She headed outside with her phone to enjoy the waning hours of the day with a cold drink.

She sat on the front step of her porch in the balmy evening air and took a long swig from the can. The carbonation made her hiccup loudly — she hoped her neighbors weren't outside to hear it.

Loren tapped the screen, and upon seeing William's name, her pulse jumped and her face flushed.

"I miss you so much." Such a simple statement, but the weight it carried was enormous. The words felt laden with sadness and regret. Words that Loren never anticipated William would ever feel for her, much less say.

Loren missed him too, but she had kept this knowledge as a safely guarded secret.

Letting him in on that secret made her vulnerable to more heartache in the future — she was almost certain of it.

Opposing thoughts clashed in Loren's mind, and she could not decipher if her worries were fear-based or just simple logic.

But this is William. William, who gave her a spark. Made her laugh until her sides hurt. Made her want to remain forever in his kiss.

Loren exhaled deeply and decided that when in doubt, stick with the facts.

Apprehensively, she responded.

L - I miss you too, William.

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag angel baby @guiltyasdave <3 • 18+ under the cut! MDNI!

wip #1 • far too familiar a stranger…feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

a long time ago, logan howlett knew a woman with your face…

i couldn’t not write a ‘worst!logan coming face to face with his tragically dead love interest but from wade’s universe after wade forced her to help them stop the TVA and hating her for bringing up that time in his life until he doesn’t anymore’ fic.

it's crimson because i felt that making whole new mutant reader would be sort of confusing so this fic is in the to the bone universe but it's not the same timeline...if that makes sense lmao

Wade Wilson is the worst neighbor in the entire fucking world. It’s really something you should have known sooner, like ‘the very first day in your new place ending with him breaking in through your window fully suited up after counting the floors wrong and bleeding all over your brand new pottery barn throw rug because he was still a little too concussed to walk’ sooner. Even after that whole fiasco left you with a broken window latch and a beyond fucked non-refundable $80 carpet, you still let yourself entertain his crazy. Just like everyone else whose life Wade crashed into, both physically or metaphorically. And once he's in, you can never really get him back out again. So yeah, maybe this whole thing is your fault. Maybe getting thrown into a barren, dusty void with two somewhat failed X-Men is just all your bad karma manifesting in one huge finger from the universe.

wip #2 • red and yellow kill a fellow! feat. logan howlett & wade wilson

logan doesn’t appreciate you letting wade get one up on him…

finally finally finally getting off my ass and writing logan x reader x wade! i was inspired by this one episode of satc (which is like my favorite show ever bee tee dubs) where charlotte goes out with two guys at the same time and she has sex with one but not the other until one of them catches her with the other guy and they all break it off.

my vision is a little different cause instead of getting mad and leaving when logan finds out reader fucked wade and not him, he figures it's his turn to get even. aka wade in the cuck chair and loving it.

The three of you pass a BMW sitting in a no parking zone, all four windows rolled down as Madonna blasts through the speakers. "So," Wade says, voice breaking the silence for the first time in five minutes. "Who white-washed your guts better?" You nearly trip over your own feet, whipping your head to gape at Wade. "Fucking excuse me?" "You know," Wade shrugs, like it's a perfectly normal thing to ask. The leisurely pace of his stroll not slowing, his hands still stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Who carved the lyrical railway better?" He just keeps going as you stare at him with a repulsed look on your face. "The number one stud that's stuffin' your muffin? That's takin the ol' bald-headed gnome for a satisfying stroll in the misty forest. Pick one hot stuff, they all mean the same thing." Before you can even answer there's a rough, questioning grunt from your right and your stomach flips. Oh. Logan, he was still here too. Still here and right next to you, listening. Oh yeah. "You fucked?" You still haven't slept with Logan yet. You turn to him face slowly, eyes a hair wide as you take in the sharp raise of his brow. "Um..." "Whoops," Wade snorts from somewhere behind your shoulder. "Cat's out the bag."

wip #3 • it's the easiest thing (just love me and eat me) feat. logan howlett

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

the same requested sub!logan fic from last wednesday just with a new name and weirder energy! like this has really gotten away from me and turned into something that i can't really explain well enough to make it sound like chill...

lots of religious imagery and symbolism...and some metaphors of cannibalism...idk i'm just a girl with religious trauma and a weird blood fetish sue me.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church. The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of it like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship. Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion. The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. The sound of your name pulled from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered. You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

kisses!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing @superhoeva

[manonblaqkbeak]

Libraries and Chocolate Cake

i can't believe i've managed to post two stories in one day--i feel like im back in 2021 with the first rowaelin month where i managed to write a fic for pretty much every day lol

Day 16-Opening of the Royal Library/Theater. @rowaelinscourt

i miss writing fluff and i hope you enjoy it too!! xx

cw: none words: 900+

Aelin was woken up by Rowan shaking her shoulder. Frowning, Aelin looked at the time on her little clock on her nightstand. Dawn was still a little while away. Almost always, Rowan woke up first, and sometimes he would wake her up by nuzzling her neck with kisses, or with gentle touches.

Usually, he left her to wake up naturally, as Aelin often needed the rest more than Rowan did (according to him, despite the fact that he was still rebuilding Orynth and beyond, was always training with the guards and their ever-growing army and navy forces).

“What's wrong?” Aelin asked, her voice groggy. She rubbed heavily at her eyes. She didn't hear anything amiss, just Fleetfoot's light snores at the end of the bed and some birds chirping through the open balcony doors.

“Nothing,” her husband answered. “But you need to get out of bed, I want to show you something.”

Aelin's frown deepened. “Can't it wait until the sun has fully risen?”

“No.” Rowan got out of bed, the movement causing Fleetfoot's snore to pause, just for a moment, before her hound kept on sleeping.

Aelin really wished she was still sleeping.

Rowan came over to her side of the bed, her silk slippers and red silk robe in his hands.

It must be important, then, if it involved getting out of bed. Her nice, warm, comfortable bed.

Stretching, Aelin shuffled on her new slippers and robe—gifts from her mate that he had purchased during their trip to Antica—and left comfort behind as she took Rowan's hand in hers and let him lead her to wherever he wanted them to be so urgently.

On the way, Aelin heard the beginning motions of the cooks and morning guards leaving their barracks to begin a new day. The people they passed greeted them cheerily, and Aelin wished that she could have said that she responded as brightly as they did and she knew that they questioned the slight frown still gracing her face as she and Rowan walked without end.

Well, seemingly without end, but eventually, the queen and king-consort stopped in front of double wooden doors, the scent of lacquer still lingering in the air.

“Buzzard, did you really bring me hear to admire these freshly lacquered doors? Because if you did, you're sleeping on the floor for a week.”

Rowan smiled at her, his eyes sparkling, her curiosity growing at the joy in his eyes. “No, I didn't bring you here to see these doors, but I brought you here to see what's beyond them.”

“And what is behind these doors?” Aelin asked, although deep down, she already knew.

Rowan's smile grew. “My mating present to you—your royal library.” With his wind, Rowan opened the doors, the wood gliding smoothly against the stone floor.

Aelin wondered inside, her eyes darting from place to place. It looked just like the Great Library of Orynth before it burned down—but instead of simple windows (although there were plenty of them), Aelin spied stained glass instead. Some depicted flora and fauna, some books and swords, ancient art from around the world. But the most glorious one of all was the one that Aelin was staring at right now; the Lord of the North, his eternal flames bright even in glass, surrounded by kingsflame.

“This is what I wanted you to see, the dawn lighting up the new era of knowledge. I managed to find some of the old librarians that worked in the Great Library and they're more than willing to come back here again.”

Aelin spun around, her eyes filling with tears as she took in her mate. When she had first met him, she never thought that he could be capable of doing such things, but here he was, standing with her in her new library in his night clothes and slippers.

Tears fell from her eyes as she hugged him tightly, breathing him in as he wrapped his arms around her just as tight.

“Rowan...” she breathed, not able to find the words right then and there, but he knew—he knew what she wanted to say without her being able to say it. He kissed her on the cheek, forehead, anywhere that his lips could reach in their tight embrace.

They stayed like that for eternity, until eventually Rowan pulled away and turned her around to the window of the Stag, his arms wrapping around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he told her to watch as the sun rose up the horizon, lighting up her library—sending rainbows to scatter throughout the space.

More tears fell at the beauty of the world. A reminder, that while she may still face her nightmares of her time with Maeve and Cairn, she was alive and living an eternity with her mate and husband. Her best friend.

They stayed in that exact spot until the sun rose high and while she could have spent years in the library, her stomach had other ideas.

She and Rowan walked to the kitchens, not caring about still being in their night clothes as they came across their hard working cooks and in the middle of the table full of food ready to go out, was a chocolate hazelnut cake.

Aelin kissed her mate again and all but dragged him and that cake back into their bed chamber to finish off the most beautiful day she had in weeks.

[daydreaming-ace]

Source: Pastra (Pastra Stream)

[mamawasatesttube]

i wish it wasn't so normal for people to complain about unfinished wips or fics that take a long time to update. because sometimes i think i have a really fun idea for a fic but it'd take a while for me to write, and i like talking about my work as i do it and i don't like writing entire fics over like 20k without sharing, because i lose steam. so if i were to write and post that cool fic idea, it'd be as a wip. and then i think about all the people who just refuse to engage with wips, or all the other people who would just go "update pls" all the time, and of how people only really comment in the first 24 hours something is posted and then it's lost to obscurity, and then i just go "actually whats the point in going through the effort writing this out? i'll just daydream about it now and then and be done with it." and then i don't write it. alas!

[dont-offend-the-bees]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @justafandomfollower - cheers, m'dears!

Posting a lil sneak peek of my fic for day one of Painland Week! It's gonna undergo some re-writing/editing before the whole thing's ready to post but this is 600 rough words of a uhhhhh 4k-ish fic. No idea if I'm gonna manage fics for every day since I'm having a big pain flare-up right now but I can at least polish up the three drafts I have so far! So here you go, some sweet nonsexual dom/sub therapy for Charles for day one, love languages💛

I'm gonna tag @kieren-fucking-walker, @firstaudrina, @coloursflyaway and @theflirtmeister, plus anyone else who feels like sharing some WIP sneak peeks, consider yourself tagged!

~~

“Charles,” said Edwin again, softer this time. It was important not to go on the offensive; in his current condition, Charles was liable to take any careless word as keenly as a knife in the back. “Please tell me what’s on your mind.” After a moment’s consideration, he added: “I promise I won’t be angry.”

It felt like utter nonsense to say out loud, a patronising placation as one might give to a child. But Charles, in Edwin’s experience, responded well to directness. His panic thrived in the mires of ambiguity. 

Releasing a ragged breath, Charles rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Just… dunno what to do sometimes. When you two go off at each other.” He peered at Edwin with his uncovered eye, and tried for a smirk. It fell decidedly short of the carefree, playful expression it was aiming for. “Dunno what side to pick, do I?”

He voiced it like a joke, but Edwin was listening carefully and he knew an incomplete sentence when he heard it. He stepped closer and, slowly, giving him time to step back, took Charles’ free hand and squeezed the fingers. 

Charles closed his eyes, dragging his hand down his face. “Can’t keep you both happy,” he admitted on a low mumble, like it was a shameful secret. 

Guilt sank sour and heavy in Edwin’s stomach, but he carefully kept it from his face. Any indication that Charles had made him feel bad was liable to make him shut down further. “It should not be your duty to keep the peace,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I will speak to Crystal later, clear the air.”

Charles nodded, but he still stood propped against the desk and hunched unhappily in on himself. Edwin could see his brain turning itself over and over in miserable little spirals — wondering if he should have stepped in earlier, said something else, wondering what he could have done differently to make everything better. To make everyone happy. 

Edwin swallowed tightly, and placed his hand upon Charles’ shoulder. “Charles. Look at me, please.”

He did so, without question or hesitation. Responding as easily to the polite command as if it had come from his own consciousness. 

Edwin, with great care, hooked a finger through the gold chain aroudn Charles' neck, and tugged.

The effect was instantaneous. Charles’ wide, hunted eyes softened, slackened, his lined eyelids drooping. His lips parted around a quiet sigh, smoother than his last ragged exhalation, and his shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been dropped from them.

Charles was an ever-unfolding and expanding area of study; but to Edwin’s expert eye, on occasion, his needs were remarkably simple to interpret.

Meeting his now somewhat unfocused gaze, Edwin leaned in. “Put Crystal out of your mind for now,” he said, quietly commanding. “In fact, put everything out of your mind.”

“She’s upset,” Charles mumbled in protest.

“Yes — and she will continue to be so for a while longer, regardless of what you or I could say.” Edwin smoothed the collar of Charles’ polo. “When the dust has settled I will find her and smooth things over. I promise. For the time being, you’ll do none of us any good with your overthinking.”

Charles snorted. “Overthinking? Me?” he joked.

With another gentle, recriminating tug of the chain, Charles gasped and quieted.

Edwin sighed and leaned close, ‘til his nose grazed across Charles’ cheekbone. “Granted, your tendency to underthink before making dangerous choices borders on the pathological,” he teased. “But I strongly suspect you're thinking a lot of very unkind thoughts about yourself right now, and I'd like for you to stop. Please.”

Breath shuddering, Charles’ hands lifted, fisting in the front of Edwin's shirt. 

“That what you want?” He asked, his voice a small and broken thing. For all his strength of body and character, he felt as vulnerable in Edwin's hands as a baby bird.

“How about I tell you exactly what I want for a while,” Edwin offered, breathing it across the shell of Charles’ ear. “And then all you have to do is listen." He delivered a swift, dry kiss to Charles' cheekbone. "No detective work required."

~~

Full fic coming to a blog near you on August 5th! Go check out the Painland Week blog and also lmk if you wanna collab on anything, assuming I get pain flareups under control I'm hoping to write lots and lots! Already got a little collab lined up for day 2 which I'm soooo excited about 💛

[some-pers0n]

Every once in a while I think about the ship I've been obsessed over for close to two years now and feel like I'm ascending to another plane of reality. Like sometimes you just encounter a ship that hits every single mark and is perfect in every regard and you're left stunned how something like that can even exist

[fbfh]

The ending to chapter 11 of LUTD reminded me of this, ngl...

Nico: Y/N, you're going to have to stop screwing around if you want to be Leo's girlfriend.

Goth Shawty: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Girlfriend? I don't want to be Leo's "girlfriend".

Nico: Well... what do you want then?

Goth Shawty: I don't know. I just wanna be with him all the time. I wanna hear about his day, tell him about mine. I wanna hold his hand and smell his hair. But I don't want to be his stupid girlfriend.

Nico: Y/N, what you just described is a relationship between a boyfriend and a girlfriend.

Nico, under his breath: And a pretty clingy one at that.

JLKGJSLKJSSLKSDJD LITERALLY. anon you just described Leo and goth shawty perfectly. reader really said "I don't want to be his girlfriend ew no I just want him to be completly devoted to me and not touch anyone else or be attracted to anyone but me."

nico: "...so you want to be his girlfriend."

seriously though once Leo gets goth shawty to really open up she's going to be the clingiest motherfucker on earth but like same bc it's Leo. who wouldn't be clingy as hell with him.

[broomsticks]

Day 25: A fic rated T

Hopeless

@kellychambliss on tumblr | kelly_chambliss on AO3 • 10k, T • Millicent Bulstrode

Millicent Bulstrode is hopeless. And that's not always a bad thing.

Rec: oh this was a tough prompt to rec for. i won’t go into all the fics i considered and all the reasons i decided meh or nah or doesn’t fit because this fic!!! this one was PERFECT. millicent is so earnest and such a precious bean, and the author carries her voice just beautifully through her growing-up years, finding and defining herself through dance lessons and teas with her muggle gran, to entering hogwarts and getting to know a bunch of other delightful misfits. neville! colin! prof sprout! what a wonderfully humanizing fic.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632635

p.s. bespoke, postwar millicent gets a suit and also a butch lesbian mentor, is one of my fave fics and this one reads so well as a prequel to that!

--

@hprecfest | hprecs on dreamwidth | my #hprecfest picks

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Okay, here we go, niche 5Ds poll time:

How much of Yusei and Z-ONE's conversations during their duel did the entire city actually hear?

The simplest answer is "every single word" but if that's the case, there would have been no reason for Unnamed Announcer to go back and narrate the duel so everyone would keep evacuating instead of watching. If they could hear everything then they would hear Z-ONE and Yusei calling their own plays. On the other hand, there are times where it's clear that everyone can hear them and it's being broadcast. (There's a moment where Z-ONE literally addresses everyone, even, iirc.)