#i swapped to write email

[corviiids]

for the word prompt: hanahaki, with lawlight

The first petal emerges with so little ceremony that nobody notices it except L. On screen the Yagami boy says, "Quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if Kira sees right through this."

The pink petal unfurls quietly in his hand.

L says, "Your son is clever, isn't he?"

-

The flowers come out wet. It's an ungraceful affair, but at least they're small.

When they're whole, the petals coil around in neat spirals. Sometimes they're buds, but usually they're just individual petals. There's a strength of emotion in what L feels, but yearning feels as much the wrong description as unrequited.

The flowers don't hurt, and after a while, they stop altogether.

On screen, Light Yagami blinks. He looks tired.

"Ryuzaki," he says. "What's it going to take for you to believe that I'm not Kira?"

Without turning the microphone on, L coughs once and expels nothing but air. Light stares beseechingly up at the camera for another long moment before he slumps.

-

L's throat stays clear until Higuchi seizes and collapses in the Chief's arms. Then, it isn't a petal at all. Light's shoulders are still heaving when L starts to cough. By the time he's spat up the irritant--one single yellow stamen--into his palm, Light's eyes are fixed blankly on the middle distance.

"Ryuzaki," he says quietly. Calmly, coolly, like he wasn't screaming himself hoarse only a second ago. "I want to check this out."

L coughs again.

-

The last petal emerges later, but it disappears into Light's palm, and L doesn't know anything after that.

-

(send me a one word prompt)

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

How well are the 500 yr old grandpas w/ technology? I already know their asses write like founding fathers

Nightmare: Killer! how do you say "this meeting will be a waste of my fucking time, fuck you" in professional e-mail terms Killer: Thank you, Name. I appreciate the offer, but I would like to know what I contribute to the meeting before attending. Cheers, Nightmare Nightmare: <- uses text-to-speech and autocorrect

Ink: you spelled captcha wrong Ink: and how Ink: and frustrating Ink: adjectives go before the noun Ink: you used "fml" right though so good job Ink: oh, you're also texting. in case this was meant for a search engine Ink: <- being annoying on purpose

[adiodont]

salmon egg prototype

(the first lines are lines from catadromously‘s salmon comic)

[ogdoadfates]

I was tagged by the delightful @ravendruid 

rules: post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! tag as many people as you have WIPs!

I have a folder for my docs and a folder within that folder for one au itself lol, not many funny titles since I’m rather literal but here ya go! (Tumblr asks is just where I put all my little drabbles, like even ones that did not originate from a tumblr ask lol)

It was only a cough

Lord give us a break

Something in the water

The ghost that a legacy leaves

A songbirds call

The wolf

How do you see me?

Tumblr asks

I think about everyone I would tag has been tagged lol, but hey if I’m mutuals with you and you haven’t been tagged yet? I’m after you, take this as being tagged. (ya don’t have to if you don’t want to of course tho!)

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

A Cure

Summary: very cute and very horny firefighter Harry x author wife 🥹

Warnings: unprotected sex, very horny husband and wife, humiliation, all that jazz AND slight voyeurism if you squint!

Wc: 6.4k

The sound of knuckles rapping against her office door pulls Y/n out of her trance. She blinks her eyes after minutes of them sitting unfocused on her white laptop screen full of words she's not sure make any sense to her anymore, or maybe they didn't in the first place.

After another minute she hears the knocking again, rubbing her strained eyes. “Are you in there, baby? Or am I embarrassing myself.” Her husband's voice booms from the other side of the door, he really isn't that loud at all but it's probably because the only sound she has heard for the past couple hours are the sniffles and sobs as she reads her publishers emails she's been avoiding for at least five days.

Y/n clears her throat, standing up. “Yeah, Hi, sorry.” Her voice is barely above a whisper when her husband comes into view. He stands tall above her, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He looks down at her with a large smile carved into his face, pearly whites and dimples only an angel could make.

“How is writing going?” She lets out a puff of air before returning the smile

Y/n is currently working on her second novel after her debut was a big success, catching the attention of readers everywhere on social media; it soon became a number one best seller. Following the success, she's been pulled in every direction and spread too thin as her team pressures her to get this second novel out as soon as possible so she stays relevant and readers stay buzzing about her.

“It's going…” he gives her a soft frown, pressing a gentle kiss to her pouted mouth. “Well, I'm about to head out for work.” She nods, relaxing into his delicate touch as he runs his nose against her brow bone. “So soon?” He huffs a laugh, pulling his arm away from her to look at the watch on his wrist. “Well, considering I'm about to be late…” she grabs his wrist, looking at the time. 11:30, already?!

“Oh my god! I didn't even realize it, sorry I've just been knee deep in emails and I've got about twenty different documents going at a time and-” He cuts her off with a kiss, his big hands coming to cup at her cheeks. Y/n lets out a sigh of satisfaction, sinking into him deeper as her shaky hands come to clutch at his forearms, as if she's pulling him back to stay so they can spend the whole day like this.

He pulls away with reluctance, another laugh leaving his lips as her mouth follows his. “I've got to go fight fires, baby. Kinda my whole job.” She has what feels like a permanent frown on her face, but nods nonetheless. “I'll be back soon, my baby. I love you.” She smiles, watching him slowly back away while he squeezes her hand. “I love you too, H.”

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

Y/n sits at her desk, sipping on another random energy drink so she can keep her eyes open to write maybe one sentence that will actually make it into her book.

Her first book came easy. After over a decade of only dreaming of getting a book deal and becoming a huge author it finally came true at twenty six. She wrote the novel about her own life, swapping the names and dramatizing some situations for entertainment- but all in all it was exactly her and Harry's love story. A classic second chance romance, highschool sweethearts who break up during college because long distance is too hard, then once the male main character comes back to town they see each other after two years and instantly fall back in love. Happily ever after and all that.

It's true, for most of her life with Harry it has been a fairytale, and that's exactly why her book has been such a big success. Everyone fell in love with Brooks as she had with Harry. The cute, shy, overly kind, highschooler turned mushy, soft, sexy, firefighter husband was an easy drawn in as readers described it as the “love story of a century”.

She decided not to continue with Brooks and Summer’s love story because it had been told from start to finish, highschool to marriage. Now, she's focused on a new couple, struggling with names at first, now their story, family, their emotional backstories, everything. The only thing she was confidently writing was the cameos from Brooks and Summer since they were all friends in this series she was trying to create.

She's got the names, Ruby and Noah, but she has no clue what the fuck they are doing. She's looking forward to writing about their ski trip, where she's going to make Ruby and Noah hook up after summer's constant nagging that Ruby should give him a try. Enemies to lovers this time around.

She loves writing trips, she's not sure why. Maybe because as her characters have a get away it seems her mind does as well. She gets to pour everything into imagery while she describes the snowy trees and the beautiful big cabin they stay in for a week.

Maybe that's what she needs to crack this writer's block, a nice getaway. But unfortunately, that's not possible with Harry's job right now. They are short staffed on firefighters and even the teen volunteers aren't doing much to compensate for the lack of employment.

Y/n’s head falls back against her chair, groaning and slapping her hand on her keyboard. She looks over at her scribbled notes on the random legal pad she found in her desk drawer. As much as she had planned for this winter getaway, she couldn't find it in herself to write it. She's been painfully getting through writing the drive up to the cabin through the past couple days and she isn't even halfway done.

This particular scene is supposed to be big for Ruby and Noah, Ruby finds out more about Noah's childhood and she begins to feel differently about him. She finally makes sense of why he's so standoffish and reserved, all these years she thought he was just a selfish dick.

Y/n groans, crumbling up the paper and throwing it across the room because she can't bear to look at the plans she so excitedly wrote down a few nights ago when she's now in one of her worst blocks of her writing career. It's worse than when she forgot about a five thousand word essay in college and had to hurry up and write something two hours before due.

“Maybe I'll just take a walk.” She sighs out, lifting from her numb legs and finally exiting her dark office. She pads down the stairs, sliding on shoes and pulling a light coat over her clothes.

Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the sunshine after hours of staring at the artificial blue light her computer gives off. She breathes in the crisp early afternoon air. Hopefully this works.

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

The walk didn't help much, it definitely cleared her mind like walks usually do- but that worsened her case if anything because now she can't think of a single thing to write while they drive up to that stupid cabin.

Might as well get some chores out of the way, she thinks, as she fills up a water bottle after living off coffee and energy drinks. She walks out of the kitchen and back up the stairs where she opens the door to her and Harry's bedroom. She opens the closet door, looking at the mound of laundry they both have piled up, better get to it. She groans as she lifts their shared laundry basket, it's overflowing and has now piled onto the floor. Harry helps out as much as he can but with his crazy work schedule and y/n being locked in her office all day they don't get as much done as they would like.

She tosses clothes into the washer, pouring detergent in and closing the lid to start the load. In the meanwhile, she goes back to their room and pulls a big load of clean laundry onto her bed.

She begins folding them and tossing them into piles, one for pajamas, bras, boxers, and so on. She walks to the big closet to grab a stack of hangers, tossing shirts and dresses and pants over the hangers and placing them on the rod one by one.

She shoves her hand onto the dwindling pile of clothes, a lace material rubbing against her finger tips. She pulls at it, revealing the tiny babydoll she had worn for Harry one long night… almost two months ago. She sighs, hanging it up on one of the nicer hangers out of the random collection of mismatched ones they've collected over the years.

She bites her lips, staring at the pretty fabric. Her and Harry both have quite high sex drives, maybe because they are still in the early years of their marriage, maybe that's just how they are despite everyone saying they would get bored of each other especially because they were each other's first everything.

But between them being short staffed and Y/n getting swept up in the marketing and press of her book, they haven't had that much time for each other. She's lucky she has a touchy feely husband, because that's what comforts her. She needs to be in her husband's arms to feel better again. And since it's been so crazy, she hasn't gotten more than a lingering kiss for weeks and weeks.

She hangs the garment back up, ignoring the nagging feeling as she continues her chores.

Once the laundry pile is all folded she switches out the now clean laundry into the dryer and starts another load, plopping on the couch until Harry gets home.

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

“I'm home!” Y/n hears Harry shout through the house, perking up and dusting off the t-shirt she has over her little matching bra and panties set. She closes her laptop, she was sitting on the couch, trying to write as a distraction until her husband came home. “Hi,” Harry softly sings, a big cheesy smile on his face as he finally spots his wife after hours of working. She rises, stretching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He hums, giving her a squeeze and rubbing up and down her back.

“I missed my baby while I was away.” He mumbles, kissing the side of her head over and over. She smiles, inhaling his smoky smell that has grown to be comforting. It's him. A deeply sweet- almost fruity scent mixed with the ash and smoke of fires. “I missed you, H.” She whispers, pulling away and leaning in to kiss him. Her hand rests on his chest, opening her mouth slightly to slide her tongue against his.

She can feel his lips curling into a grin, his hands slide down, lifting her up and into his arms. “You missed me something special, Hm?” She nods then pushes her hands into his hair. “Take me upstairs, H.” He does as told, starting to slowly and carefully walk them toward the staircase.

A ring ruins the moment, making Harry sigh, sitting her down. Y/n sighs, wiping the side of her mouth. “Fuck,” He sighs, shaking his head as he looks down at his phone. “H?” He looks back up, his heart breaking as he looks at his wife. “Baby….” she frowns, trying to push back the urge to cry. “It's work. I'm sorry. I've got to go be a firefighter.” He softly smiles, attempting to lighten the mood.

It doesn't help though. She wraps her arms around herself, feeling stupid and childish that she's so emotional over her husband having to leave her to go fight a fire and potentially save lives. “I'm sorry, baby. I have to go.” His hand pulls away from her, waving before he walks out of the door.

She swallows the lump in her throat, walking up the stairs alone and straight into the bedroom. She pulls off the matching set she wore to surprise Harry, tossing it into the empty laundry basket. She pulls on normal pajamas, just a big shirt and a random pair of pajama shorts before washing her face and brushing her teeth.

She gets in bed, preparing to wait up and make sure Harry is alright before falling asleep.

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

Working from home is pretty lonely. Harry can be up and out of the door as early as four in the morning and sometimes gets calls all throughout the night. She got pretty used to being alone once Harry became a firefighter, and she even liked it. Being alone with her thoughts was great for her writing. She reminisced on the early days of her relationship, laughing at all the awkward stages and feeling emotional at how far they've come from the goofy teenagers they once were.

“I'm writing as fast as I can! It's not going to be good if it's not organic.” Y/n stresses over the phone, trying to push down the lump in her throat that strains her words. “Yes, Y/n, but we need to get a publish date on this book and get the ball rolling.” She groans, feeling tempted to throw her phone next to the discarded ball of paper from yesterday- but she knows that's a bit dramatic.

She hangs up, too frustrated to talk- or think about this goddamn book. She needs her husband, she needs his touch. A hug, a kiss, anything from him right now would ease her anxiety.

Time to start stress baking.

For as long as she can remember baking has been an outlet for Y/n- she's not sure why. Taking the horrible thoughts of the day and the physical anxiety and turning it into something yummy that puts a smile on everyone's face was fulfilling. She even put her own little recipes at the end of each chapter dependent on whatever Summer had made for Brooks- which was once again very much based on her and Harry.

White chocolate cranberry scones, chocolate cake, lavender lemon loaf, she is bound to be busy with all the different recipe cards laid out in front of her on their kitchen island.

She sifts the flour, bowls covering the table with a load of dishes already going in the dishwasher. The timer from the oven goes off, pulling her away from her distraction of yet another sweet treat. She pushes her hair out of her face, opening the oven and adding it to the collection of pastries that are making her house smell so good. Thank god she's got hungry firefighters to feed. She scribbles a note on the white board that's magnetized to the fridge to remind her to box up some of everything for Harry to bring in.

She's the fire chief's wife, she's has to keep them fed.

After what feels like days of baking, she's finally done. Two different cookies, two different loaves of bread, scones, and a cake.

Y/n flops down on the couch, turning on some trashy TV to keep her mind anywhere but that book she's supposed to be writing.

She gets about halfway through a forty five minute episode before she gets a glimpse of the time. She shoots up, starting on dinner knowing that her husband will arrive home anytime. He seems just as stressed out as she is about work, he just doesn't let it show as much, so she wants to make his life easier when she can.

Dinner didn't take long, she just whipped up something easy and quick for them. She flops back down on the couch, keeping the food on low so it will stay warm.

“Hi, baby.” Harry smiles, tossing his keys onto the table and coming to flop down next to her on the couch. He wraps his arms around her, cuddling into her. “What smells so good?” He sniffs at her neck as if she's covered in perfume, making her laugh and push away his touch even though she craves it more than anything right now. “Lots of random baked goods.” She softly laughs, pressing a kiss to his lips. He gives her an empathetic smile. “stressed, huh?” She shrugs, sitting up and he quickly follows.

“I made dinner too.” He thanks her. Kissing the back of her hand and trailing them up her arm. “How about after dinner we finish what we started the other night… maybe it will help you unwind?” She feels her stomach tighten. She wants to say no, take me right now before you're whisked away again, but she doesn't. She nods, closing her eyes and sinking into his touch before it's taken away.

He kisses her head, standing up and pulling her with him. “Let's get you fed and ready for me, huh? Can't have you losing energy half way through.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head with a smile on her face.

They eat dinner together, sitting at the island together instead of the proper dining table. They make small talk, catching each other up about their day, Harry telling her all about two kittens that were stuck in a tree that he had to rescue bright and early this morning. “So that's why you crawled out of bed at four in the morning?” Harry nods, standing up and pushing their bowls aside. “Yeah, but now we’re going to head back to bed.” He smiles, holding a hand out for her, which she takes.

Harry leans in, slotting his lips with his wife's. Another ring sounds through the silence of their kiss. Harry groans loudly into her mouth, obviously irritated. “I swear to god-” he yanks his phone from where it was sitting on the table. “What?!” He spits to the other person on the line, obviously frustrated. “Fuck.” He nods once more to the caller before hanging up. “I'm sorry, baby. A restaurant downtown is completely engulfed in flames, I have to go now.” She nods, trying to bite back her frown.

She loves that Harry is a firefighter, it's sexy and has made him build up the strong physique that holds her and protects her. She loves that he does so much for the city and has saved so many lives and homes, but as he's out saving others' homes it feels like he's abandoning theirs. He's home basically just to sleep, and nothing else. Their relationship is still strong, and their love will never fade, but not having quality time is taking a toll on both of them mentally.

“I promise, baby. I'll be home as soon as possible.” He rushes out of the house, running towards the door.

Y/n is once again left in the house all alone.

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

Y/n is woken up with a gentle shake, slowly blinking her blurry eyes open. “What time is it?” She slurs, sitting up when she knocks her open, timed out laptop off of her chest. Harry quickly catches it, softly laughing and placing it on the coffee table. “It's only been an hour since I left. You fell asleep while writing, baby.” He rubs her back, placing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Oh shit!” She shoots up, grabbing her laptop. “That is due at midnight, I need to send it to my editor!” Harry stops her from running up to her office, hooking an arm around her. “Hey, hey. Slow down, baby.” She huffs, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Are you still struggling to finish this chapter?” He kisses her head again, brushing her hair out of her face. She nods, feeling the anxiety build up in her body at the thought of not getting this chapter done in time. “Yes. It's so frustrating,I just feel defeated. Like I need… a cure?”

Harry taps on his bottom lip with his pointer finger while he's thinking. “A cure?”

Y/n nods, “a cure.”

“Well, go try to finish writing so your editor doesn't get mad at you. If you need any help or words of encouragement I'll be in our room.” She nods, rising up from the couch, collecting her laptop in her arms before kissing her husband. He smiles when she pulls away, giving her ass a small smack.

“Go get to it, baby.”

She walks up the steps, still sleepy as she sits back in her desk chair and cracks her screen back open. She gets to typing, putting any coherent thought down to try to make it make sense, she can always have her editor put it into better formed sentences that flow better with the rest of the story.

It's a little past 1:30 when she finally gets into bed, crawling in next to her shirtless husband.

Harry groans, wrapping both his arms around her while he keeps his eyes closed- too sleepy to actually open them. She cuddles into him, finally relaxing after what seems like days of tense muscles and mental gymnastics. “Did you find your cure?” She shakes her head, “no cure yet. But I got it done.”

He whispers a cheer, squeezing her. “Good job, baby. I knew you'd do it. Now go to sleep, we'll celebrate tomorrow.” She giggles into his neck, wrapping a leg around him.

“Celebrate?” He nods, basically snoring. “I'll finally fuck you, promise, baby.”

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

“Guess what the fire chief got called in for?” Harry asks, walking into the house surprisingly early. Y/n spins around in her chair, her eyebrows shooting up. “You're home, H!” He nods, walking over to her. “What did you get called in for?” He stays silent for a beat to dramatize and leave her in suspense.

“A fourteen year old kid got his head stuck in a fence. And they called me, the fire chief, to get him out.” Y/n laughs, almost choking on her water. “So,” Harry starts, grabbing her water from her hand and taking a sip of it. “I said don't call me, don't bother me, I'm taking the day off to spend with my wife.” She smiles, scanning him up and down.

He's still in his red suspenders, fire pants, and the navy blue shirt that hugs his pecs and biceps more than should be allowed for everyday firefighting. His hair is crazy, pushed back with a strand flopping in his eyes. His skin is covered in black ash and soot, and he smells of fire but it only heats her skin.

His pointer finger curls to lift her chin up, his thumb softly resting under her bottom lip. He slots his lips with hers, making her whimper with need. Her hand clutches at the short sleeve of his shirt, feeling his toned muscles under it. “Hop up” he lifts her into his strong arms, walking them up to their bedroom.

He slams open the door, throwing her on the bed. They both laugh loudly, her arms reaching out for him again. He knees the bed, on his hands and knees while he hovers over her. Neither of them care that he's covered in black ash on their light duvet.

His hand slides up her t-shirt, smiling at the feeling of her warm skin even though he knew she was braless. “Take this fuckin’ thing off.” He half-jokes, pulling at the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. Harry pulls his suspenders down, yanking off his tight shirt. Y/n hated to see the shirt go, but she loves saying goodbye. Her hands slide down his chest and onto his chiseled abs. “Keep the rest on.” Harry's eyebrow raises, his mouth slightly popped open.

“Keep it on?” She nods, then slides a suspender back up his arm.

Harry smiles, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard cock out. It slaps against his belly, making Y/n's mouth water. He yanks at her pants, making her shuffle down the bed. They both laugh as he pulls her pants down, giggles flying through the room as her pants fly through the air.

He takes in her naked body, his eyes dragging down her almost like she's his prey. Suddenly she feels shy under her husband's heavy gaze, pulling her arms in to cover herself. “Don't. You. Fucking. Dare.” He practically growls, yanking her arms away. He opens her legs, his hand sliding over cunt.

“I'm going to absolutely devour you. I'm not going to stop until you're shaking.” She smiles, wrapping her legs around him.

Harry grabs his cock, lining it up with her. “Are you wet enough, baby?” He asks, his hand slipping down for a moment to touch her pussy. “Oh,” an evil grin forms on his face. “You're dripping, huh?” Her face heats up, looking away because she knows she'll be too embarrassed to look him in his eye.

Harry softly but quickly pulls her face back toward him, opening her jaw with his thumb and spitting into her mouth.

She pulls him in with her legs, moaning. He lines himself up with her, finally pushing it. Y/n cries out at the feeling of him finally being inside of her after so long, it only eggs Harry on.

His constant thrusting shuffles her up and down the bed, and he loves every second of watching her tits bounce while his cock is stuffed deep inside of her. “Fuck, H” she gasps, reaching out for his arm to somewhat stabilize herself. “Feels good, baby?” He slips his thumb inside of her mouth, watching her perfect pouty lips wrap around him. She frantically nods, breathless and already shaking from the feeling of her husband's big, thick, bare cock inside of her.

“H, fuck, I don't know if I'm going t-” he cuts her off, smashing his mouth into her. She can hear how wet she is as the sound of wet squelching and heavy pants fill the room. It's enough to turn her cheeks red hot again, trying to ignore it. “Do you hear how fucking wet you are?” Harry says, biting at her neck. All chances of her not being humiliated are thrown out of the door the second Harry opens his dirty mouth. She almost forgot how embarrassingly filthy he can talk.

“Tell me, baby, do you hear how wet you are? Your pussy is dripping all over the sheets, you're making an absolute mess of me.”

She ignores his mouth, trying to keep some of her dignity.

“Tell me right now, or I'll stop fucking you.” She whines, gasping as he hits her special little spot. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her back arches as he sends electricity from her head to her toes. “I'll stop right now.” His hips come to a vault, and suddenly she's sobbing out her answer. “Yes, fuck, H. I'm so wet. I'm so fucking wet and it's all for you.” She falls into a chant of “it's all for you, all for you H” until he starts fucking her again now that he's gotten exactly what he wants.

“So wet, and tight, and warm for me, baby. I think your pussy was made just for me.” She nods, she's so cock drunk she thinks she might sign all her rights away if asked. “Cause my dick fits perfectly in you, it hits all those special little spots that puts that little pout on your lips.”

She gasps, gripping his arm tighter as she gets closer. “Yeah, you're going to cum? Cum on my cock, it's okay. You can cum baby, I know it's been so long.”

She moans a mantra of his name over and over again as she finally orgasms, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of her.

Harry cums shortly after her, moaning in her ear and telling her how good she makes him feel.

He flops down next to her after he carefully pulls out, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. “You okay? I didn't go too rough?” She shakes her head, resting it on his bicep. He presses a soft peck to her lips then gently rubs her cheek with his thumb. “No, H. It was perfect.” He smiles, glancing away like he didn't just say the dirtiest things she's ever said to her. “I'm sorry we haven't had a lot of time to be together. I hate being so busy.” She nods, “it's okay, H. I know you can't help it.” He bites at the inside of his bottom lip, sighing.

He moves his head closer to hers, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against hers. “I love you.” She smiles, sliding her hand down his arm and threading their fingers together. “I love you too, babe.”

He sits up, on his knees. “What are you doing?” He grabs her legs, tossing them onto his shoulders. He kisses her ankle, “I didn't forget about my promise. I want your legs shaking. I'll carry you around everywhere tomorrow.” She giggles as he stretches her legs out, bending to suck and lick at her nipples.

She pushes him away, making him laugh. “Not gonna let your husband get a little frisky?” She rolls her eyes with a smile, “I've been letting you get frisky since we were sixteen, I've had enough.” He scoffs, sliding inside of her again.

He presses kisses over her leg, using his over hand to press into her lower belly. She gasps, grabbing his wrist. “Am I too big?” She attempts to roll her eyes at his cockiness but is cut off with a moan when he presses into her again.

Harry starts thrusting in and out of her, painfully slow. All of his touches are amplified, she can feel every vein on him. “Fuck, babe,” she hardly manages to get a word out of her mouth as her hips wiggle. She's inconsolable as she lets out sobs, her back arching and hips rolling against his.

She clenches around him, sending a chill rolling down his back. “Fuck, baby. Do that again.” She clenched around him, spasming around him as he perfectly rolls his hips. Thank god he knows how to use all that.

She whimpers his name, begging for him to give her anything he can. A blissed out smile frames Harry's face, his pearly white teeth peaking out while he bites his lips to silence his grunts and groans. She pulls him in even closer with her legs and he bottoms out inside of her. He gasps her name, his hand clenching at her calf.

“Don't hide, H. I want to hear how good you feel.” His mouth falls open at her words, his hazy eyes falling closed in pleasure. He shudders, letting out a shaky breath. “F-fuck, baby.” She clenches around him once again, holding it as he pushes back inside of her.

“You f-feel like heaven, you're so fucking perfect. So perfect.” He moans, his mouth open while he thrusts in and out of her. He whines, making Y/n want to bite a pillow and scream into it from the noises her husband is making. “I fucking love this pussy, baby. Tell me whose it is.” Her back arches, letting out a pleasured sigh as she grips the sheets. “It's your pussy, H. You're the only one who gets to cum it in.” He smiles, nodding.

They both cum at the same time, their moans blending as they cry each other's names.

Harry finally lets his fire pants drop, kicking them off the bed once he's calmed down.

“I'm hiring more people as soon as possible. There's no way I went so long without you.” She laughs as he kisses her, both of them laying together in their post-sex bliss. She fidgets with his wedding ring, her head on his chest. “Yeah, I miss having you around the house.” Harry nods, squeezing one of her fingers. “Me too.”

They both relax into the bed, staying silent and enjoying each other's company.

“Round three in the shower?”

📜⋆.ೃ🎞࿔*:･🕰-'♡'-

Y/n looks over at her office door which is now open, her sleepy husband stands in the doorway, the only thing he's wearing is low hanging pajama pants. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, his hair going in every different direction. “Why are you awake?” She softly laughs at his question, looking at the time on her laptop. “H, it's almost 11AM.” His sleepy eyes go wide for a split second before they return to their tired half-open state.

“Well, you should be in bed with me.” He creeps over to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders while she sits in her office chair. “I'm writing?” He dramatically gasps, pressing a kiss to her neck. “You're writing?” She nods, continuing to type even as he kisses her.

“Did inspiration strike?” She nods, smiling. “Last night kind of inspired me. I think it's exactly what I needed.” Harry raises one eyebrow, his fingertips coming to pull the laptop closer to him. “Can I read it?” She nods, letting him pull it into his arms, watching him scroll back up to the start of the chapter.

After last night she finally had the inspiration strike to write Ruby and Noah hooking up at the ski getaway. This will be the peak in her book, now that they are together the rest will be a breeze to write.

She watches as his pajama pants slowly grow, making her hands shake with anticipation. “Holy fuck. You wrote that based on last night?” She smiles, blushing and nodding.

“That was your cure, huh?”

She didn't think about it that way. “I finally got my cure.”

Harry sinks down onto his knees, sliding his hands up her thighs, under the shirt of his she was wearing to bed. He hooks his fingers into her panties, dragging them down. “Now I need my cure.” He whispers, sliding her panties down her legs and into the pocket of his pajama pants. “I've got a big problem,” he looks down, cupping his large bulge. “And you're the only cure for it.”

He parts her legs, smiling at the sight of her wet cunt.

“Oh god, baby. How long have you been like this?” He pouts up at her, touching her with delicate fingers. “So long, H. I've been thinking about you since I got up.” She whines, pushing her shirt back so it doesn't block his view.

He lets out a sympathetic whine for her, his eyebrows pinching together with a worried expression. “My poor girl, I've got to take care of you now. You woke up with a throbbing pussy thinking of me, Hm?” She nods, carefully watching his every move.

Her breath shudders as her eyes follow his head sinking down to between her legs. Her eyes go wide, feeling his tongue slide into her. She whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling of his warm tongue sliding up and down her cunt.

“No, no. Go ahead and write. It's the only thing that cures your writer's block.” She gulps, her hands shaking as she goes back to writing with her husband's head between her legs. She slowly types onto her document as he licks her up and down. She tries to keep her eyes open, typing whatever comes to her mind- which she's more than sure will be a jumbled mess for her to fix later. “H, please babe.” He shakes his head. “Your publisher will be mad if you don't write it.” He licks her clit, pulling it into his mouth to suck at it.

Her hand falls to the top of his head, threading her fingers through his hair. He shakes his head again, grabbing her hand and placing it back on her keys.

She moans, rolling her hips. She's fully given up on writing, her head fallen back as he continues to eat her pussy.

“Baby,” he laughs, kissing her thigh. “Well, I can't be mad. I guess you deserve it after working so hard.” He lifts up to kiss her, laughing at her failed attempt to write like he previously ordered her to.

He sinks back down between her legs, flicking his tongue against her clit. She groans, arching her back and whimpering. She throws a leg over his shoulder and he instantly wraps his arm around it. “You taste so good.” His mouth is loud against her, making lewd noises as he sucks, licks, and flicks his tongue against her skin.

“You always taste so good, baby.” He groans against her, losing himself in the smell, feeling, and taste of her. He moans against her over and over again, sliding his tongue deep in her to taste her wetness straight from the source. He loves how wet he can get her, how just the thought of him gets her so worked up she spends the whole morning with a wet, throbbing cunt until he takes matters into his own hands.

He often fantasizes about catching her touching herself- just because he knows her writing is always based on their experience and when she is writing a particularly spicy scene she tends to get worked up.

He can imagine silently creeping into her office to catch her with her legs open and her small hand down her panties trying to satisfy herself when they both know it's his hands she's craving.

She falls to pieces above him, her chest rapidly falling and rising while her mouth drops open to praise him and all the pleasure he's giving her. “You can cum, baby. It's okay.” He closes his eyes, enjoying the last few moments of her on his tongue. He loves the silky feeling of her, how warm and soft she is.

“H, I'm cumming!” She moans, gripping at his hair while she rolls her hips trying to get herself there. Seconds later she cums all over his mouth, leaving him to clean her up.

He wipes his mouth, sucking his fingers off before he yanks her down to give her a messy tongue kiss to let her taste herself.

She tries to catch her breath, giggling now that she's come back down. “Do you feel better now?” She nods, kissing him again.

“Just needed your husband to take care of you, huh?” She nods once again, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he wraps his big, strong arms around her. “Now go sit back there in case I need you again.” He agrees to it with a large smile on his face, walking back to the much bigger and comfier chair she normally uses for reading.

He’s always been the cure.

A/N: WOWOWOW!! beside a small 1k word blurb this is my return to writing after almost a year and a half! I thought about making an Author y/n one random day in the shower and with a little help from my beautiful, amazing, creative best friend @ziallslvr firefighter Harry and author Y/n was born 🥹!!!!

I feel so passionate about these two! They are my sweet babies❤️ This specific Y/n is straight from my heart, and might be a little self indulgent! I hope you all love her as much as I do ❤️

PLEASEEEEEE!!! IF YOU LIKED THIS REBLOG AND SHARE YOUR THOUGHT WITH ME :D

[luveline]

HI MLLLL! I absolutely loved your fainting fic with James! Can you write like a part a part 2 or like a follow up where reader starts realizing that James isn’t as bad as she thought and she falls for him as he takes care of her bc he’s really worried? I love them sm 🥹

James takes care of you when you faint

James is acting weirder than usual… sort of… nice? fem, 1.2k

The days after you faint are just as hot, but you come into work. You can’t afford to miss it, and it’s not as though you’ll make the same mistake twice. 

The memory of what happened is hazy at the start. James had just opened the window, the breeze that filtered in cooling your hot skin. You’d felt sick, you’d tried to stand, and your head had gone blank. 

You woke with your face in James’ hand. You can remember it if you think about it enough, his head tilted down toward you, the sunshine on his skin, his soft smile. He’d felt like a different person. 

You’d felt different. 

“Can you send me that information from the lab, please?” 

You glance away from your computer, eyes tired. “Sorry?” 

“For the, uh, Mr. Nguyen?” James asks. “You didn’t send them to me. I can’t do them if you don’t send them.” 

“Right.” You blink away the phantom of his hand on your cheek. “Okay.” 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

That’s all he asks. Every day since you passed out, at various times and in various ways. Are you okay? Are you alright? Is it too hot in here? Do you want to swap desks with me? That last one had been a little patronising. You’d told him to leave you alone. Your desk is right next to the radiator in winter, it’s prime real estate, and you’re not giving it up just because you got a bit hot. 

“I’m fine,” you murmur, turning back to your computer to open outlook. “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“About you not talking to me.” 

“Funny.” 

You drag and drop the paperwork for the tests he’d wanted. It’s easy to render an invoice but you hate doing it because it involves a lot of talking back and forth with clients. James, on the other hand, loves to talk. 

“There, sent it,” you say.

“Thank you.” 

Awkward. You pretend to be busier than you are for a few minutes, stealing company time without remorse. James types up an email beside you, the click of his keys quick and loud in your ears. 

Remus pops a pen lid across the way, scribbling onto a post it note that he sticks on his monitor. You know what time it is from the sounds alone. A half a minute later, Sirius slinks up from the front of the office to wrap his arm around Remus’ shoulders, sing-songing, “You’re coming with me, handsome.” 

“Are you coming?” Remus asks James. 

There’s a lapse of quiet. You stare at your computer, aware of a silent conversation, but not privy to its content. “I think I’ll stay,” James says eventually. 

“Okie dokie. Y/N, do you want to come, lovely?” Remus asks. “It’s not too hot.” 

“I’m fine,” you say, “thanks. Thank you.” 

You don’t feel like yourself since you fainted. You’d hoped it would go away once you had a better night’s sleep, flooded your system with cold water and good food, but you can’t kick it. You have no energy, no want to do more than turn up for work and go home again, and you know what it is that’s making you feel this way, but you can’t admit it to yourself. It crops up in your mind unbidden and you push it back down. 

“Sirius never used to act like that.” 

“What?” 

“Sirius. He was never like that when we were growing up. Love makes him pathetic.” 

Love is a tender touch. Sirius had laid his arm over Remus’ shoulder without any hug or kiss, but it was as loving as either. To touch someone like they need a kind hand. 

Like James had held your face. His arm behind your back as he led you to the break room. 

“Do you wanna come with me?” James asks. 

You hold in a second confused, What? He’s standing now, you hadn’t noticed him moving, his water bottle in hand as he pushes his chair back under the desk. 

“Don’t wanna leave you here and have you smash your head in when there’s no one around. Imagine the clean up.” 

You get up on impulse. You grab your drink, and the back of your chair, and you stand there wondering if you’re about to be dizzy again. Your chest feels tight, but that weight of unconsciousness doesn’t come. 

“Hey,” James says. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not like you today.” 

There’s a softness in his voice you can’t believe. “Can I eat lunch with you?” 

You wish that you said it to avoid the question. James wrinkles his nose, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, but then he says, “I just invited you first.” 

“I… have to get my stuff from the fridge.”

“Me too.”

You walk slowly, worried it’s a joke, another stupid joke, but James comes up behind you and his hand graces your shoulder with the barest pressure. You can smell something sweet and warm on him, like jojoba oil. Maybe argan. “Sure you’re okay? You look peaky. Is it the heat?” he murmurs.

“It’s supposed to rain tonight.” 

“You can’t answer anything, can you?” James laughs with a vocal fry that goes straight to your chest. “I could ask you how many fingers you’d have and you’d tell me you have two hands.” 

James walks with you to the kitchen, where you gather your food and warm it in the microwave. He leads you to the break room, and makes sure to choose a table with enough space for you, even while people he’s friendly with beckon him forward. They look at you with unashamed curiosity, but James pretends not to notice so you do too. 

You’re expecting a joke. Aw, look, we’re finally on a date. Or Wow, you know how to use a spoon, I had no idea you were so dexterous. 

“Did you see they’re making a new movie about those aliens? The ones who can hear you everywhere you go?” 

You squeeze your spoon. “Uh, no, I didn’t see it.” 

“It looks awesome. I’ll show you the trailer on my computer after lunch, it looks just as good as the first two. That actress, the one with the really nice eyes is in it.” 

You have no idea who he means. James talks to you like a friend. He offers you some of his papris and he passes you a napkin from his pocket when you get food on your hands. James Potter might actually be a really nice guy. All it took was for you to garner his pity for him to show it. How pathetic you must seem to need it. 

“How do you feel now?” he asks as you clip the lid back onto your Tupperware. “You look better. Do you feel better?” 

“I’m fine, James.” 

“You frown so much I can’t tell.” He butts his knee against yours. “Alright, batten the hatches, I’m gonna carry you back to your desk.” 

“Why?” you ask in a rush. 

“Can’t fall if you don’t walk.” 

“James, don’t try it. I’m serious.” 

“You don’t sound serious. You sound like you want me to carry you.” 

“I’ll report you to Human Resources.” 

“For what? Being helpful?” 

“Harassment.” 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna catch you this time.” 

[pascalispretty]

the feeling is mutual

Sonny Carisi x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags: pining, idiots in love, cowgirl sex, Sonny's praise kink, only one bed trope

Summary: You've had a crush on your colleague for years. You go to a work conference with him, and fate fucks with you by making sure you get a room with just the one bed.

A/N: Soooooooo I started working on this back in October 2022, at the request of the lovely @misscharlielulu. Life intervened, and I kinda got the writing yips, but when I saw that @storiesofsvu's bingo had an 'Only One Bed' square I was determined to finish it. Unbeta'd like whoa, so please be gentle! (ao3).

You should have been suspicious of Benson’s offer to send you to the conference from the beginning. It had been presented to you nicely enough - a long weekend in Boston, paid for by the department so you could attend the Conference on Crimes Against Women. It hadn’t taken much persuading to get you to agree to go, especially when you found out Carisi was also going. 

That was before the drive from hell. The two of you had left as soon as you finished work for the day, only to almost immediately hit nasty traffic. What should have been a four-hour journey had taken almost seven thanks to an accident just past the Connecticut state line. After swapping driver duties with Sonny somewhere outside of Hartford, you’d found your eyelids starting to get heavy, but had resolved to stay awake. It wasn’t fair to Carisi for you to sleep while he drove. 

You have no idea how long you’ve been dozing when a gentle nudge to your arm wakes you. 

“Hey, I think we’re finally here,” Sonny says as you rub your eyes. So much for not sleeping. You’re relieved to see that he’s pulling into the parking garage below the hotel, but it's short-lived.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You roll your neck, wincing at the crick that’s developed from resting your head on the window. 

“It’s fine, I figured you could use it. The Spellman case has us all working late.” He’s right; the case was drawing plenty of media attention, and you’d all been racking up plenty of OT trying to solve it. The two of you had spent part of the drive debating it, and whether there was a way to get the stupid, invasive podcast taken down. 

You both grab your bags and make your way to the elevator. Pressing the button for the lobby, you try and fail to suppress a yawn. 

“Sorry,” you apologise again. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night’s sleep.” 

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up and actually felt rested,” Carisi says lightly, giving you a soft, understanding smile. You try not to think too deeply about the way it makes your stomach twist - or, for that matter, how good he looks in his new camel coat.  

“Tell me about it,” you groan. The elevator spills the two of you out into a deserted lobby, and you do a double-take when you look out of the enormous windows at the front of the building. 

“Oh, yeah. It started snowing about an hour ago,” Sonny says, cutting himself off with a yawn.  Outside, the snow is coming down thick and fast, already sticking to the ground. You can just about see the glow of a few headlights, but beyond that, the world has turned to a soft dove grey. 

There’s a harried-looking woman behind the concierge desk; the Conference attracts cops from all over the country, you wouldn’t be surprised if the hotel was booked out by the various agencies and precincts. 

“Hi, we have two rooms booked for us. Should be under the name Benson?” Sonny asks the concierge, searching on his phone for the confirmation email Liv had forwarded to you both. The concierge types something on the computer sitting on her desk and frowns. 

“I got one room under that name. Any other name you might have used?” 

“No, Liv definitely said she booked them under her name,” you tell her, glancing at Sonny as he turns his phone to show the woman behind the desk. 

“Our Lieutenant definitely booked us two rooms, look,” Sonny tries, and the two of you exchange a frown. The concierge scans the email, then her own screen again. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. The system only has one booking under Benson. It’s the only room left in the hotel; we’re booked solid because of this conference.” You and Sonny exchange another look. 

“I mean - I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” You tug your lower lip between your teeth, trying to think of another solution that doesn’t involve sharing a bedroom with the colleague you have a very inappropriate crush on. Sonny taps his fingers on the desk and looks again at the concierge as though he’s hoping she’ll be able to conjure another room out of nowhere. 

“I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He sounds so earnest, and you want to pinch his cheeks and tell him he could never, but instead you shrug. 

“It’s fine, you won’t. Unless you snore, or sleepwalk or something,” you tease, and he grins. 

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he says, turning back to the concierge. Is it your imagination, or is he blushing slightly? “Can we get the keys, please?” The woman looks relieved that the two of you have resolved the situation between yourselves, and seemingly can’t press the keycards into your hands fast enough. 

“You’re in 2342; take the elevator to the fourth floor and turn right.” The two of you thank her and pick your bags up again. 

“Should we say something to the Lieutenant?” You offer as the two of you make your way upstairs. “She might be getting charged for both rooms or something.” 

“Yeah, probably. Maybe the hotel thought she meant two beds, not two rooms?” Sonny runs a hand through his hair; the product’s grip on his greying locks has relaxed, leaving it looking soft and touchable. 

“Maybe,” you say distractedly, stopping in front of door 2342. “I think this is us.” You try the keycard and are relieved when the light on the lock turns green. 

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get some sleep.” Carisi takes your bag as you push open the door, and you smile quickly at him over your shoulder. 

“Oh no, the feeling is definitely mutual. I feel like I could sleep for a week-” You abruptly cut yourself off when you turn the light on and get a glimpse of the room. It’s a perfectly nice room–if anything slightly nicer than what you had been expecting on the department’s dime. It’s decently sized, with large windows and a flatscreen on the wall. There’s even a comfy-looking overstuffed armchair by one of the windows. 

The only problem is that there’s only one bed. 

Your cheeks burn as you realise your mistake. You had assumed that the hotel had accidentally put you in one room with two beds, instead of two rooms with one bed each. 

“Oh shit, Carisi, I’m sorry-” You start, walking deeper into the room so he has space to enter behind you and see what the problem is. The door clicks closed behind him, and you swallow thickly. 

“Oh. Uh-” he rakes his hand through his hair again. “You take the room. I’ll find somewhere else.” He offers, but you’re already shaking your head. 

“Where? The concierge said they were full, and there’s no way you can get a decent room on this short notice.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth again, trying to walk the fine line between sounding considerate and desperate. As much as the thought of sharing a bed with Carisi makes you panic, you don’t want to kick him out into the cold. 

“No, it’s fine. I can sleep in the car if I can’t find anywhere; I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” It’s so characteristically sweet that you roll your eyes. Crossing over to the window, you pull the drapes aside just enough to see the snow still falling thick and fast outside. 

“You are not sleeping in your car in a blizzard, Carisi. It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the armchair.” You grab a pillow from the bed before he can argue and throw it towards the chair. “Crank the thermostat up and lend me a blanket from the bed, and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not letting you sleep in a chair,” he says, though he does move over to the thermostat to change it. “I’ll take the chair.”

“You’re like seven feet tall, there’s no way you’re sleeping in the chair.” 

“I’m six foot even, and a night sleeping there won’t kill me. In the morning, I’ll look for a room in a different hotel or something.” You open your mouth to argue with him again, but he cuts you off. “You’re not changing my mind. I have three sisters, I know how to be stubborn.” 

“Fine. Better than you trying to drive around in this storm, as tired as you are.” You throw your hands up in exaggerated defeat, before starting to tug one of the sheets off the bed. Carisi moves to the other side of the bed to help you, stripping the top sheet off and tossing it onto the armchair. 

“You wanna use the bathroom first?” Your bags are still sitting by the door, and you pick up your overnight bag and set it on the bed. For a brief moment you panic as you start to unzip it; what pyjamas did you pack in your hurry this morning? You can’t remember if they’re relatively normal looking, or the grotty but oh-so-cosy ones you usually reserve for being ill or on your period. 

“Nah, you go ahead.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him shaking the sheet out to drape it over the armchair. Your hands finally close on your pyjamas, and you take them and your toiletry bag into the bathroom. The bathroom is, just like the room, nicer than you had expected it to be. The little soaps and shampoos are brands you actually recognise, and you’re delighted to see that your room has a shower and a tub. Maybe tomorrow you can have a nice, long soak and pretend this mortifying night never happened. 

It doesn’t take you long to throw your hair up in a messy bun and wash the remains of your makeup off your face. You strip quickly out of your work clothes, hesitating a moment before deciding to keep your bra on. Slipping on the grey tank top you’d brought as a pyjama top, you’re a little relieved that the pyjamas you’d grabbed at random from the drawer were plain and not embarrassingly old or cutesy. 

Your relief is short-lived. When you go to shake out the folded-up black leggings, you realise with dawning horror that they’re not your leggings at all. In your hurry to pack this morning, you’d grabbed a pair of pyjama shorts, black jersey with a little lacy trim. Your face burns flaming hot again as you stare at them. You have no other choice - your only other bottoms are work clothes, and a pair of jeans - but they show off more of your leg than you’re really comfortable with your colleague seeing. 

Cursing yourself for leaving packing until this morning you reluctantly slide the shorts on, trying to tug them down to cover a little more of your thighs. Clutching your clothes to your chest, you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. 

Carisi has been busy while you’ve been gone. He’s made a makeshift bed for himself on the armchair, and moved the bags away from the door. Your purse is sitting beside your weekend bag, and his own bag is open on the desk. He’s currently searching through it, and you can't help staring a little. His coat, jacket and tie are gone and he’s rolled his shirt sleeves up, exposing his forearms. You swallow thickly and drag your eyes away with difficulty. You need to grow up. 

The bathroom door closes behind you, catching Sonny’s attention. He looks up from whatever he’s searching for in his bag and does a double-take when he sees you. 

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” He teases, unable to help the laugh that escapes him. “Did you leave packing til the last minute again?” Your cheeks are probably hot enough to counter whatever cold you might feel from the weather, and you glare at him. 

“Shut up. They were folded, I thought they were leggings.” You dump the clothes in your arms into your open bag and dig around for your phone charger. Sonny chuckles again and shakes his head. 

“You sure you’re gonna be warm enough? You can borrow my hoodie if you want.” You’re sorely tempted to take him up on the offer. The burgundy hoodie he’s holding out to you looks cosy, and it undoubtedly smells amazing, but you can’t. You need to get over this, whatever this is. 

“I’ll be okay.” With your phone charger in hand, you move your bags onto the floor by the bed and set about plugging your phone in to charge overnight. Sonny quietly excuses himself to the bathroom, and you take advantage of having the room to yourself to clamber into bed without showing any more of your legs. You almost groan once you settle down under the blankets; this bed is comfortable. It’s almost enough to make you glad that Sonny insisted on sleeping on the armchair instead of you. Almost. Once you’re suitably snuggled in, you unlock your phone and type out a quick message to Benson explaining the room situation. 

It doesn’t take Carisi long to return from the bathroom, and you let out an inelegant snort when you see him. 

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” You parrot teasingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Sonny’s wearing a Fordham tee and a pair of cotton boxer shorts. He has the good grace to flush, and he shrugs. 

“It’s what I usually sleep in. I run warm.” 

“You can turn the thermostat down if it’s gonna be too warm?” You offer. “I feel like a dick taking the bed and making you too hot.” He flashes you that soft smile again. 

“You’re still just in shorts. Sure you don’t want my hoodie?” Carisi sets his folded clothes on the desk by his bag and waits for your answer. 

“No, I’ll be fine. Turn the thermostat down a few degrees.” The room isn’t even that cold at the moment, and you’re sure you won’t feel it if the temperature drops a little while you sleep. Sonny obliges, fiddling with the thermostat again before settling down onto his armchair bed. 

“Is it okay with you if I set an alarm for half nine?” The conference kicks off at eleven; an hour and a half should be plenty of time to shower and find some breakfast before you have to go downstairs. 

“Yeah sure,” Carisi says, his reply trailing off into a yawn. “G’night.” You flip the switch by the bed, plunging the room into darkness. 

“Night, Carisi.” 

You really try to fall asleep. The bed is so comfortable, and you’re so tired. You had fallen asleep in the car, sitting up with the radio blaring. You’re not sure why it evades you now. The minutes tick by, and you can hear Sonny moving around in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Perhaps it's guilt keeping you awake, you reason. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you break the silence. 

“Carisi?” You half-whisper, not wanting to wake him if he’s asleep. 

“Yeah?” He sounds tired, and the guilt overrides any embarrassment you might feel. 

“Will you just come and sleep here?” The question hangs in the air, and there’s a long pause while you wait for Sonny’s answer. “I don’t have cooties, Carisi, you can sleep next to me.” 

“No, I know, but-” He pauses, and you hear him shift again. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

“Positive.” It’s so stupid of you. You’ve had a crush on Carisi since you first laid eyes on him; inviting him to sleep beside you is an unnecessary form of self-torture. But you know you’ll feel even worse tomorrow having to look at the deep shadows under his eyes from a sleepless and uncomfortable night in the chair. 

You hear him sigh softly. A moment later, the mattress dips as he settles into the bed. Sonny’s keeping his distance, but you’re still painfully aware of his body in bed beside you. It’s unbearably intimate, and if it wouldn’t make you look like a lunatic after telling him how fine you were with him getting in, you’d take a pillow and go and sleep in the tub. 

Annoyed with yourself, you roll over onto your side, facing away from him. As idiotic as you might be, at least you won’t have to deal with the guilt of depriving him of a good night’s sleep. Beside you, his breathing is evening out. Maybe at least one of you will sleep well. 

******

You wake up feeling confused. You have no idea how you managed to fall asleep, or how long you’ve slept for. You’re also very preoccupied with the fact that you and Carisi appear to be spooning. 

Sonny’s arm is slung over your waist and his body is curled around yours from behind, holding you close. His nose is pressed against the hinge of your jaw, his breath warm on your neck.  Your bare legs are tangled together, and you’re so overwhelmed by the feel of so much of his skin against yours that it takes you a moment to realise what woke you. 

Carisi is hard. 

The line of his erection is pressing against the curve of your ass, and you nearly choke on your own tongue at the feeling. You take a deep breath and try to make sense of what’s happening. The two of you must have rolled together at some point in the night, and Sonny’s reaction must just be morning wood. 

Not that being in Sonny’s arms is unpleasant. He’s warm and solid against you, and he smells good; something clean and masculine and him. Closing your eyes again, you try to figure out what to do. Before you can settle on an idea, Sonny’s arm briefly tightens around your waist, only to suddenly slide off. 

“Oh fuck-” Carisi practically throws himself backwards, away from you. Sitting up in bed, you turn to look at him as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets and scramble out of bed. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” You follow him, managing to grab his hand before he can move away from the side of the bed. 

“Carisi, it’s okay. It’s okay, you were asleep-” You start, kneeling on the bed in front of him and holding his hand tightly within your own. He’s shaking his head before you even get the first few words out, those beautiful blue eyes of his wide and distraught. 

“It’s not okay,” he says, refusing to look down at you. “I was practically molesting you in your sleep-”

“Stop, you weren’t molesting me,” you try to argue, but Carisi ignores you. 

“I’ll call the Lieutenant on my way back to Manhattan, let her know. God, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out. But you never have to see me again, I promise,” he rambles, trying to free his hand from your grasp. You don’t let go, giving it a squeeze instead. 

“Calm down, take a breath. How you wanted me to find out what?” You adjust your position on your knees, barely able to breathe yourself. Sonny’s palm is hot and damp against yours, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. 

“Find out that I liked you.” Carisi manages eventually, still steadfastly refusing to look down at you. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage, and your blood roars so loudly in your ears that you’re not sure you heard him right. You know he likes you, you’ve been friends for years. But he’s saying it in a way that conveys so much more than that, and you suck in a breath. 

“You like me?” 

“I- yeah. And now I’ve ruined it, and made you uncomfortable-” he starts again, and you roll your eyes. You bring your free hand up to his cheek, and the gentle touch is what finally makes him meet your eyes. 

“Dominick. You haven’t made me uncomfortable. Really, you haven’t.” That finally silences him, your use of his real name catching his attention, though it doesn’t stop his eyes from searching for any hint to the contrary in your face. You take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “And…and you haven’t ruined anything either.” 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up to kiss him. 

It’s not much more than a peck, a soft brush of your lips against his own ones. You pull back just a little, your noses almost brushing. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed waking up in your arms.” There’s a silence so deep that you’d swear you should be able to hear the snow falling outside. Those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, sending your heart hammering even harder. After a long pause, his free hand comes up to cup your jaw with deliberate slowness, giving you time to move away. 

Sonny’s thumb sweeps gently over your cheek as he lowers his head and kisses you. His lips are soft and full against yours, testing at first and deepening the kiss when you slide your free arm around him to pull him closer. A quiet sound of contentment escapes your throat as Sonny dips his tongue into your mouth, finally letting go of your hand so he can grasp your waist. 

You can’t seem to get close enough to him, even with your chests pressed flush against one another. The kiss turns from careful to desperate as years of pent-up attraction are finally given an outlet.

It’s impossible to tell who moves first to lie down on the bed, whether you pull him down or he pushes, but you end up lying parallel to the headboard with Sonny on top of you. Your mind can barely reconcile that your longtime crush reciprocates your feelings, much less the warm weight of his body pressed against you. 

Wanting to feel more of him, you slip one of your hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt and run your fingertips over his back. He shivers at the delicate touch, a sensitivity you mentally file away for later. Your legs fall open, and you choke back a whine when you feel the hard line of his cock press against you once more. 

It’s so much. You want to feel him everywhere, to keep exploring him with your hands and mouth. 

“Can I?” You ask, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling gently. He follows your lead, letting you pull the shirt over his head and discard it onto the floor. He was telling the truth earlier; he does run warm, his bare skin hot to the touch as your hands roam his back and sides. 

One of Sonny’s hands drops down to hitch your leg over his hip, his large hand squeezing your thigh. 

“I love your legs,” he murmurs. The kisses have left you breathless, but you still whine when he stops. Your hands sink into his soft hair as he shifts to press kisses down the column of your throat. You don’t mean to pull his hair when he kisses a particularly sensitive spot, but when he groans against the delicate skin you take it as your cue to do it again. 

“Want you, Dominick,” you sigh against his forehead, rocking your hips to grind against him. You feel his breath catch in his throat, his own hips stutter against yours. There are too many layers of clothes between the two of you, and you do your best to wriggle out of your t-shirt without displacing Carisi. 

Like the gentleman that he is, he helps you out. His hands cover yours to take over, pulling the soft cotton over your head. Your hands sink back into his hair almost immediately.

“Why’d you wear a bra to sleep in?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips. It’s so infuriatingly handsome that you want to drag him back down for more kisses, but you know that won’t get you out of your clothes any faster.

“Didn’t want to risk you seeing my nipples through my shirt,” you explain breathily as he ducks down to kiss over the tops of your breasts while his hands work at the clasp. 

“Think I’m about to see a lot more than that, doll,” he mumbles against your skin. It makes you giggle, in spite of yourself. The two of you shed your clothes as quickly as you can while still staying as close as possible, too focused on removing the remaining barriers between you to care too much about the undignified scramble to strip. 

“I wanna ride you,” you manage between kisses, and Sonny nearly falls off the bed in his eagerness to oblige you. He settles with his back against the headboard, watching you with hazy eyes as you grab a condom out of your purse. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, holding his hands out to help you get comfortable in his lap. He hisses when you roll the condom down over his cock, the hand he’s resting on your hip squeezing reflexively. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” you tell him, slowly pumping your hand down, then back up. He does look gorgeous out of his clothes, all lean and long-limbed. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.” 

Sonny’s other arm loops around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met,” he admits, his voice breathless with arousal. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you line him up with your entrance and slowly start to sink down. It pulls a loud moan out of both of you, the sound echoing around the room, so much louder than the whispers and gasps that had come before. 

“Oh God, so have I, Sonny-” you manage, screwing your eyes closed. It’s been a while, and the lack of foreplay probably wasn’t wise given the fact that Carisi was bigger than you’d imagined. Not that you’d made a habit of imagining this, in trying to deal with your crush. Instead of sliding down smoothly the rest of the way onto him, you roll your hips, taking a little more of his length on each pass. 

Sonny’s a mess under you. His hands clutch tight at your hips, and when you manage to open your eyes again, you see he has his head flung back against the headboard.

“You feel so good, Doll. Christ, you’re so fucking wet and we haven’t even done anything-” he cuts himself off with a shuddering groan as he finally bottoms out inside you. The tip of him is pressing up against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl, and it sends a swell of bliss coursing through you. 

“You have such a perfect dick,” you tell him, enjoying the flush that intensifies on his face as he registers what you said. You lift yourself up just a little, an inch at best, and sink slowly back down, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

You’re not sure if it’s the best adjective, but you need to tell him just how good he feels. 

In fact, the two of you can’t seem to shut up. Even when you start riding him in earnest, the headboard bumping against the wall with every stroke, neither of you can stop talking. It’s like every time you’ve wanted to tell him how hot he is over the last three years is spilling out, along with endless praise for how good he feels. He gives it right back, telling you how perfect and sexy and hot you are in between telling you how much he wants to eat you out. 

“I’d be so good at it, please doll, I just wanna show you how bad I want it,” he babbles, his hair damp with sweat at the temples. 

You’re panting with every breath. Sonny leans forward to nuzzle into your neck, kissing and licking and sucking at the delicate skin there. Your nails dig into his shoulders when he drags his teeth over a particularly sensitive spot, and the groan he makes vibrates through your skin and straight down to your core. 

“God, Dominick, yes,” you nearly sob. “So good with your mouth already, want you to kiss me everywhere…” You can’t finish the thought, but it wrenches another groan out of Sonny. You haven’t thought about a next time, whether this is a one-off or if cooler heads will prevail back in New York. 

Later, the two of you can talk for real. You’ll wake up feeling better rested than you have in years, naked in Sonny’s arms, and talk about what happened, you promise yourself. 

Right now, there’s just the two of you discovering how much you enjoy each other, how badly you’ve both wanted each other. The two of you just fit together, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. And all the pleasure you feel is magnified a thousandfold by the fact that your crush wasn’t unrequited at all, that Sonny wants you just as much as you want him. 

You sink your hand back into his soft hair and ride him faster, utterly drunk on the noises he’s making. Dominick’s mouth wanders, kissing lines up your neck and licking messily at your nipples and nipping gently at your earlobe. In between, he murmurs about how 

A real conversation can wait; right now, you want to see what it’ll take for you to leave him speechless. 

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @irishavengersassemble

[badsexbingo]

Bad Sex Bingo Info

Request a board here to participate! A board will be sent to your email in pdf form. The sending email will be “saltyfandomevents” at gmail.

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FAQ (below the cut)

What is a bingo event?

You can check out the fanlore article here, but the gist of it is that you get a bingo board with 24 random prompts (we’ve got like, 51 in our list total, but we might add more) and make a fanwork for any prompt you want to cross off to try and create a line of crossed-off squares across your bingo board. The middle is a “free space” so you can do whatever you want for the overarching theme there!

Which board is which?

X-ray is the one with the x-ray of a bulb in the ass on a black background [left]. Fruity is the one with all the rotting fruit on a pink and white background [right].

Can I do one fanwork that hits multiple prompts?

I’m not a cop and there’s no points and no prize, so you can do whatever you want. If you just like rules, and want some though, how about:

Written fanworks may count for multiple prompts, but must be at least 250 words per prompt you’re crossing off.

Drawn fanworks may count for up to two prompts per sketch, three prompts per lined, and four prompts per fully rendered piece with background, but frankly I think an artist would need to be pretty creative to manage it.

Do I need to be 18 plus to participate?

I mean I’d prefer it but I’m not going to be checking your IDs. That’s going to be between you and whatever platform that you upload your work to.

Will you reblog my work related to this bingo?

Maybe! Make sure it meets all of tumblrs TOS though. Use community labels. It’s going to depend on how much work it is :) do @ us, or we definitely won’t see it.

Is there an ao3 collection I can post to?

Sure is! It’s badsexbingo

My bingo board hasn’t arrived and it’s been a whole day!

Did you put your email in correctly? If you’re not sure, try again and pay close attention. Also check your spam folder! Send us an ask or an email if you’ve double checked everything.

I don’t like one of the prompts on my board.

Oh wow, that’s rough, maybe you can work around it. OR you can request another randomly generated board and see if you like that one better.

I don’t want a new board I just want this prompt off my board.

Ugh okay, fine. Reply to the email you received your board in and explain what you want taken off and we’ll swap it with something. This may take a while because the rest of this is all automated and doesn’t require me to look at it. I haven’t even put the email on my phone.

If you have a ton of squicks around suboptimal sex though, this might not be the event for you!

What does this prompt mean?

You can interpret the prompts however you want! I’m not a cop!

I did write the prompts to be funny rather than clear, so have a look here to see what I was thinking, if you want, though. Totally optional. You can do whatever you want forever.

[iprefervillains]

book club hangster?! please share more

Book club Hangster entered my mind at the start of the new year and hasn't left it yet.

Basically they both like to read and somehow this escalates from them swapping books on a carrier once to sending all kinds of random books they pick up on employment halfway across the world for the other to read.

They leave annotations and reviews for the other and sometimes spent hours skyping or emailing about the books. They read, discuss and banter. It's their thing, their way of bonding and falling in love even though they don't like each other (lie!) and aren't even in the same part of the world most of the time.

It's mostly vibes right now but some ideas for this include:

Bradley hating thrillers and Jake picking up some weird Scandinavian psycho thriller when it is his turn some time before the mission just to be an ass. It's the real reason for the "early grave" comment, the book scared Bradley shitless.

Jake having a concussion after his air-to-air kill and Bradley calling him up to read him a new book over the phone. It helps with the boredom and the nightmares.

Bradley has a special bookshelf where he keeps all the books Jake send to him. They are scribbled full (Bradley adds his own comments even though Jake won't see them) to the point where he awkwardly purchases a second copy of a book he already owns because he doesn't want to lend Phoenix his copy.

They spent one Christmas when they are both temporarily stationed in San Diego quietly sitting on the couch in the Bradshaw bungalow, each in their own corner, silently reading a book and making notes and then swapping books the next day to do it again, before loudly discussing them on the second Christmas day.

They have soo many inside jokes, most importantly: "this could be us but you playing" noted to either the most hilariously bad romance scenes or totally unhinged conversations between characters or people killing their enemies.

Sometimes they challenge each other to only speak in quotes without anyone else noticing

Bradley ends up confessing his love for Jake by putting one of those romance novels that has a life shattering confession scenes and ends with either one or both characters dying on Jake's bed before he leaves for the mission with the confession highlighted and the words "I wish I would have been brave enough to tell you too instead of being a coward. I'm so sorry, Jake ♥". Needless to say Jake ends up totally pissed when he gets to the point in the book on the way back to shore because this is such a dick move and storms the medbay in the middle of the night to rip Bradley a new one.

Honestly I just love the idea of them having a share passion to bond over. A soft kind of love, you wouldn't expect at first, especially when you hear them loudly arguing about the right flight style.

There is more if you want @intrepidjourneys, it might take me some time to write though.

[itsjustrosee]

Stranded (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

pt. 1, Pt. 2

ok so this is my first time writing any sort of fanfic but I thought I would give it a shot!

Warnings: contains spice and mild cursing

Context: high school au with everyone from the glade plus people from the other mazes like Sonya, Aris, and also Brenda. Minho's on the track team (obviously) and reader is on the debate team. Enemies to lovers

Word count: 4.4k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

You were in your junior year in high school, and you had already gotten a couple months into the school year. It was early October and the weather began to change, becoming slightly colder and colder each day. You could feel a cold gust of wind hit your face as you walked out of your school's double doors. You walked over and lent on one of the pillars your school had built in front of the main entrance as you began to slip your phone out of your pocket.

You only had one new notification from Brenda which read,

'sorry girl I won't be able to pick u up tdy. I got an email a couple of hours ago from my mom saying that I needed to pick her up from work because her car broke down, so I wont be able to work on our social studies project. Sry!'

You honestly didn't bother to read anything after the 'won't be able to pick u up tdy' part. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't have that many other friends you could just text and get them to pick you up. It's not like you were unpopular or didn't have many friends, you actually were quite known around school. It would be relatively hard for someone to hear your name and not know who you were. After all you were head of the student council, captain of the debate team and on your way to being valedictorian next year. So needless to say, you were far from being unpopular. Although you always preferred having a small group of really close friends, though you were friends or friendly, with many other people in your grade.

Unfortunately, you weren't quite close enough with any of your other friends to just text them and ask them for a ride out of the blue.

And almost as if being stranded at school couldn't get any worse, you look at your battery percent and see, oh great, 1 percent. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a second to curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it last night while you were sleeping.

But you calm yourself, thinking that it'll be fine. You'll get a ride home someway or another, right?

Well you thought wrong.

Right when you look back at your phone screen, its black. You stare at your phone, jaw dropped, continuously clicking at the power button, but to no avail the screen stays pitch black, leaving you to stare at your reflection wondering, 'how the actual fuck did I manage to be this unlucky.'

You tuck your phone back into your bag and you realize you really only have one way of getting home. Walking.

Wow this is just so amazing because of course this happens the day you get out at 5:30 because of a debate competition. Meaning you had to wear black heals and tights, paired with a tight pencil skirt that only went up to your mid-thigh, and a black blazer with a white undershirt that revealed more of your chest than you wanted it to.

Majority of the outfit was borrowed from Brenda, and you had changed into it at the end of school. Giving the clothes you were wearing the whole day to her because you didn't want to carry them around. The plan was for her to bring the bag of your clothes with her as she came to pick you up after your debate comp and drive you both back to your place to work on your project, where you would swap the clothes back.

Was it a semi overcomplicated plan? Yes. It definitely was, and you were now cursing at yourself once again because of it.

However, right as you come to terms painstakingly long and difficult journey you're going to have ahead of you, someone behind you speaks up.

"Hey (Y/N). What are you still doing here?" A familiar voice says, sending shivers down your spine. You could recognize that voice anywhere and you didn't have to turn around knowing that the person behind you was Minho. Godamint of course it was him, the dude who had been picking on you since kindergarten, the dude who you hated, and also the dude who got surprisingly hot over the summer. He was by far the last person you wanted to run into after your day was already totally trashed.

You turn around slowly so you can face him and as you do, you see him towering over you. He looks like he'd recently stepped out of the shower with his wet and slightly towel dried hair. Minho was on the track team and you were aware that on Friday's and during most days of the week, he would stay at school late because of practice. And based off of his hair, you could assume that he showered in the locker room before heading home. You gave yourself another moment before responding, as you look at the grey sweatpants he's wearing as they lay low around his hips, and at the black compression shirt he had on which complimented his physic quite well by it's ability of defining his muscles.

God what were you thinking? You couldn't help but think he was hot. Even though he had made it his mission to annoy you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

"My debate competition just ended." You say dryly while snapping back into reality, shaking off what you were thinking of moments before.

He checks his watch before responding, "Oh right. But didn't that end like ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah.. it did." You confess, realizing that you had stayed here sulking for ten minutes when you could've just accepted your fate and given yourself a head start on walking home. And maybe then, you wouldn't have had to run into this guy.

"why are you still here then?" He asked in a confused tone that lacked little to no concern.

You glare at him for a second but before you can give your embarrassing answer, he speaks again.

"Hey I'm just wondering, no need to get all mad. I just thought that you would've had a ride by now, princess." He says with a grin forming on his face while he puts both of hands up as if he's surrendering. He's clearly trying to do anything he can to get some sort of reaction out of you, and he knew that by using his little nickname he'd made for you at the start of the year, he'd get just that.

"Well actually if you could just shut up for a second then I would've been able to answer you." You snapped at him before continuing, your voice much softer now out of embarrassment, "I um, I don't actually have a ride. Both my parents are out of town for the weekend and Brenda bailed on me so I'm probably just going to walk."

"Really? Dressed like that?" He questions with a chuckle while teasing you and gesturing to your outfit. However he can't help but blush when he see's you dressed the way that you are. Most of the time you tend to wear sweatshirts and baggy clothing, but seeing you in clothing that complimented you curves- wow- It didn't fail to catch Minho off guard.

"Well, what other choice do I have?" You say as your words come out slightly more desperate then intended.

"I could give you a ride if you want." Minho responded, and Minho shocked himself just as much as he had shocked you by saying this.

You and Minho I have seen each other a lot this year because you both actually shared a decent amount of classes together. Although everybody knew him as being super athletic and really popular, he was a lot smarter than people, (a.k.a, you), gave him credit for. And even since you both had known each other since forever, the sudden offer was still odd. Considering how hostile you were to each other obviously.

"I'm not sure. I bet I can just walk home."

"Seriously? You'd probably give up walking home in those heels a mile in." He said with a chuckle, slightly mocking you but you choose to ignore it.

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine." you say with a huff while you both begin walking into the parking lot. "where's your car?"

"Who said I'd be driving you home in a car?" He responds as he tries to fish something out from his sweatpants' pocket, and when he finally pulled out what he was looking for, you see him hold up a key.

You look at him confused until you keep walking with him and see that you're headed towards a black motorcycle.

"Oh absolutely not." You say as you immediately stop in your tracks and Minho walks over a couple more steps and unlocks it.

"Come on it's just a motorcycle."

"Dude are you serious. Do you know how many people die on those things yearly?"

"No, how many?" he asks while looking at you with a smirk, already able to sense your bluff.

"I don't know- but probably a lot!" You answered because of course you don't actually knowing how many deaths motorcycles cause, but you thought it was safe to assume that they caused many.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I should just start walking home now if I want to make it before it gets dark out." you say while walking past Minho and his stupid motorcycle. But Minho grabs your wrist before you can walk away any further. Feeling his skin on yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You turn around to face him and he keeps his hand on your wrist but his grip softens.

"Do you even know the forecast for today? It's supposed to start storming around six, and I don't think you want to get caught walking home in the rain right?" After he says that you look up at the sky and see that it's already being filled up by dark and angry clouds that could start raining down on you and Minho at any second, then you look back at his motorcycle.

Minho takes in your silence and speaks again, "Look, if you don't make your decision in the next five seconds then I'm leaving with or without you alright? I really can't be driving while it storms so I'll need to drop you off as soon as I can if I want to be able to make it home too."

"Alright fine." You say as you sigh, clearly defeated.

Minho leads you back to his motorcycle and sits down, his bag slung over his shoulders and onto his chest rather than on his back so that you can sit behind him. You tell him how to get to your house and you mutter a silent prayer as you sit down behind him, hoping he doesn't notice how far your skirt is riding up your thighs.

You aren't quite sure where to place your hands so you opt to cross them at your chest. Minho adjusts himself and turns his head slightly so you can here him better, "You know, you might want to hold onto me while I drive."

"I think I'll be fine." you snap at him.

"Suit yourself then." He shrugs as he faces forwards and presses on the gas, much faster than you expected.

You let out a yelp and immediately you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer into his back, and you basically cling on to him as if your life depends on it. You dig the side of your head into his back and shut your eyes.

You can already tell he has a wolfish grin spread across his face as he says, "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, ok whatever I-I get it I should've listened." you blurt out quickly, not trying very hard to disguise the fear in your voice. Minho slows down as he leaves the parking lot of your school and he realizes that he can feel you trembling.

"Hey, hey, its okay. I'll be more careful alright?" He says in a caring tone while he places one of his hands on your knee.

"Just... please go slow Minho." You reply as you hug onto him even tighter.

"I will princess don't worry. I promise I'll get you home safe." He says while thanking god that you can't see how red he's getting. Something about the way you had said his name altered something in his brain chemistry and he would do anything to hear you say it again. And you on the other hand felt that he was being genuine when he said that he'd keep you safe, and it really did sound like he cared. It only took seconds for your face to get as red as a tomato and though you were glad he couldn't see you, you were praying he couldn't feel how hot your cheek was getting on his back.

Your grip on his stayed just as tight and if not tighter for the remainder of the ride home. Although, during every stop you would loosen your grip slightly and Minho would place his hand down by your knee or lower thigh again, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin which never failed to give you butterflies in your stomach each time he did so.

The silence between the both of you hadn't been awkward at all, if anything, it was quite comforting. Being in each others presence was enough for the both of you. And if anything, the quietness allowed you to think about Minho and how you felt about him now.

Though you didn't really want to admit it, something about the way he was acting towards you now, made you see a very different side of him, and it gave you a reason to like him. But then again this is Minho your talking about. He could have any girl he wanted, practically the entire female population at your school flocked to him. But you are thinking about this as if you don't have boys coming up to you, trying to talk to you at your locker every day. Or like Gally in particular hasn't been begging for you to tutor him since freshman year.

Regardless of the amount of times boys came up to you, you always rejected them, because you had never really felt that way for anyone. Except right now. Because you could practically feel yourself falling harder and harder for Minho every second.

Little did you know that Minho was thinking the exact same way about you, and though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, he's liked you for the longest time.

Do you guys ever remember getting bullied by a guy back in elementary school, and when you told your parents about it they were just like 'oh its just because he has a crush on you!' well that was Minho. Minho was that little boy tormenting you all those years ago because he had the fattest crush on you and just didn't know how to express it. And he never grew out of that habit either. Sure when you guys grew up he would still pick and tease on you but he'd kept getting bolder and bolder, hoping you'd pick up on it one day.

A sudden drop of water on your heads knocked you and Minho out of your thoughts and snapped you back to reality.

"Shit." Minho mumbled under his breath. You finally peaked for head up a bit and opened your eyes to see that he was driving into your neighborhood but it was too late. The light sprinkles of rain soon turned into a downpour after mere seconds. Minho quickly pulled into your drive way and you unbuttoned your blazer and put it over your head to try and keep you at least a little dry until you reached the front door. You got up from your seat and only made it a couple steps forward towards your house until you realized Minho wasn't following you.

"What are you waiting for? Do you want to stay out in the rain and get drenched?" I asked him.

"You don't want me to leave?" He questioned, a bit of hope surged through him, making him think that maybe you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

"Leave? You can't leave now, do you see how hard it's raining? Never mind that, you said that it was going to storm and I can't let you drive home knowing you could just get struck by lightning or some shit." You explain, trying to make it seem as if you didn't care about him, but you definitely did care and you sucked at not making it obvious.

Minho couldn't even respond, he just stared at you, a grin forming at the edge of his lips.

"Can you- stop looking at me like that! Just come inside before I change my mind." You say, turning away and heading straight to the door because you can already feel your cheeks getting red and you don't need to hear Minho's snarky remarks over it.

Minho wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit flustered too because he hadn't expected you to say what you just said- I mean, inviting him into your house? Minho was absolutely over the fucking moon.

He dashed into the house and got in right after you did, shutting the door behind him. You set down your bag and began taking off your heels before facing Minho. He also dropped his bag and took off his shoes. He looked at you as you cleared your throat.

"Thank you, for um, driving me. Sorry I got kinda freaked out." you say, the redness in your cheeks this time weren't because you were flustered but rather because you were embarrassed. As you looked down, expecting Minho to make fun of you over the way you clung onto him, he takes your chin in his hand and moves it up slightly so that you're now looking at him.

"There's no need to apologize princess."

you just stared at him, too shocked to move because of the contact he'd made with you. Even though you both could've stayed in that position forever, you moved your head to the side, severing the eye contact you and Minho were making, and making him take his hand from your chin.

Immediately Minho began cursing at himself for being so bold. I mean it was amazing enough that you invited him into your house but he totally just ruined it. He just couldn't wait any longer for you, but he got impatient. At least that's what his overthinking ass assumed.

"Minho, I-" you started. You were taken aback by the action but it's not like you didn't like it. In all the years of teasing he had never been that bold or genuine. You couldn't tell if he was still just messing with you for fun.

"No, that was- look I dunno why I did that. I didn't.." He scoffed while looking away.

"Minho look at me." you said while turning your face to look at him again.

He just silently took his hand away from his face and looked at you.

"What's been up with you this year? It's like, you keep teasing me, but then you call me princess and do things like this- It's just- what's your deal? I can't tell if you still hate me, or if you like me or something." You blurt out, way more intensely then you had expected. You couldn't tell if this was just a whole joke or not, like if he really just found pleasure by getting some sort of reaction out of you. Whether that be you getting flustered, or annoyed at him.

"No I don't- I don't hate you at all (Y/N)." He paused while sighing. "This is going to sound stupid but I've liked you since before I can even remember. I just never knew how to tell you, so I just tried to get more bold, and hope that maybe you would catch on, I guess."

You just stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, not quite too sure if you were hearing him correctly. But he seemed so sincere, you really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

"God okay I never should've said anything. I'm sorry, that was all so stupid. I'll leave right when the rain lets up-" Minho barely finished what he was saying as you leaned in and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips merged with his.

After a moment of him not reciprocating you pulled away, "I'm sorry I thought-" But before you could say anything else Minho began kissing you again.

You melted into his touch as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into him closer. His grip around you was firm as he held onto you as if you could just slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. You flung your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss between the both of you. It had started out gentle and soft but it only got more and more desperate and passionate as time went on.

"I like you too." You mumbled against his lips between kisses, and at this Minho only became more and more hungry for you. You allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, and he grew desperate for your taste.

All while holding the kiss he lifted you up by your hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you into a nearby wall in your house.

He kept one of his arms on your waist while the other slid down your shirt and up your back, his cold fingers traced around your spine which only made you arch your back further into him. A slight moan escaped you which only made Minho tighten around his pants. You could feel him harden between your legs, and considering your skirt was far up your thighs by now, and your tights and panties only provided a thin layer of clothing between the both of you. You could feeling yourself throbbing down there as well.

Minho could tell by the way you were fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were trying to take it off him. Minho pulled away and removed his hands from you and tossed off his shirt, leaving you to stare at his amazing physic.

I mean come on, the guy looked like he had been carved out of stone.

You both took no time at all to crash your lips onto each others again as your hands began to roam all over his chest. He took both of his hands and placed them on your ass in order to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to pepper your lips with kisses.

He bit against your bottom lip causing you to moan again, but a phones ringtone of the song 'Eye of the Tiger' interrupted you and Minho from continuing.

He murmured a curse to himself and you giggled as he took his phone out of his pocket and answering the call and putting it on speaker. He used one hand to hold his phone as he kept the other on your ass.

You took this as an opportunity to start kissing down Minho's neck, moving down to his collar bone and sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark. This caused Minho to make a soft groan but since the call was still connecting, the other person wasn't able to hear it.

"Dude where the fuck are you? You were supposed to come over after your practice to help me with our Latin assignment." The very clearly annoyed boy with a British accent questioned. You could tell it was Newt immediately, I mean, not many people have who go to schools in America have British accents.

"I'm sorry I got kind of caught up with something." Minho huffed out. Clearly trying to hide his moans as you continues to leave a trail of kisses and marks along his chest and neck.

"Holy shit you sound like you've just ran a marathon. Wait are you even at home right now?" He asks, this time much more confused then he was before.

"Uh no- I'm not at home right now."

"Then were the fuck are you?"

"At a- friends house."

"Which friends house?" Newt was interrogating Minho as if they were a married couple and Newt caught Minho coming home at 3am smelling of liquor and another women's perfume.

"I'm at (Y/N)'s house.." He said softly, hoping his friend would maybe keep his cool after he said this.

"Hi Newt!" You chime in after leaving several knew hickeys on Minho's neck.

"Jesus Christ I knew it. You've liked her for years! Good job Minho, you finally had the balls to tell her." You hear Newt laugh along with several other people in the background.

"Godamit Newt who else is with you?" Minho says, his face growing redder every second.

"Oh you know, Thomas, Gally, Fry, Alby." He says while trailing off.

Just then you can hear someone grab Newts phone on the other line, "Just letting you know (Y/N) you could do so much better." He says while everyone else with him chuckles, and you can tell it was Gally who said it.

"Oh shut it Gally. Your just mad because she chose me over you. And maybe this way you'll finally get the hint and stop asking her to tutor your dumbass." Minho snaps at him, his protective and jealous tone turning you on way more then you thought.

After Minho says that you can hear everyone on the other line burst out laughing, and even you let out a bit of a laugh afterwards as well.

You can hear Newt take back the phone and say, "Alright we'll leave you to it." as he hangs up the phone.

You look back at Minho as he puts his phone away. "What if I do want to start tutoring Gally?" You say with a smirk as you tilt your head to the side, teasing Minho.

"Oh please. Your mine now princess and I'm not letting Gally, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near you." He says, and even though he's ginning while he says it, you can tell that he's being completely serious. "Now where were we?"

ok guys this is it!! plz lemme know if u liked it or if theres anything you guys think I should work on/ do better whenever I write these in the future. Also if u guys want to give me any other prompts for me to write, or if yall want a pt. 2 with yk smth a lil more spicy then tell me

[daymemebeliever]

Hey Fanguins! Want to Help Real Life Penguins? :D

Why Now?

5 out of the 18 penguin species are listed as endangered

That’s approximately 28% that are endangered, not including those under the “vulnerable” or “near threatened” statuses.

These endangered species include:

The Yellow-eyed Penguin

Northern Rockhopper Penguin

Galapagos Penguin

Erect-Crested Penguin

African Penguin

Cute little guys like these African penguins are predicted to go EXTINCT by 2035.

Biggest Threats to Penguins:

Overfishing

Plastic Pollution

Oil Spills

Habitat Disruption

Invasive Species

Climate Change

So… What can We Do?

I know sometimes it seems hopeless when there are major corporations having extensive negative impacts on the environment.

But there are small, everyday changes you may be able to make to contribute for the better (at least a little).

Small actions can add up over time.

Shop Consciously

Overfishing and unregulated fishing are big contributors to penguin populations decreasing.

Less available prey means penguins have to spend longer time at sea to feed their chicks and themselves. This could force them to abandon their chicks, reach the point of exhaustion and pass away as a result, or return to emaciated chicks.

Seafood Watch is a wonderful resource to ensure the seafood you’re buying has been caught sustainably. https://www.seafoodwatch.org/recommendations/download-consumer-guides

Swap for More Sustainable Options

Aside from seafood, you might be able to make many swaps to reusable products.

Reusable grocery bags/tote bags can actually make transporting groceries easier while reducing plastic usage.

If you have access to clean water, a water filter pitcher or a reusable water bottle are also great options when available! 😊

Swapping plastic containers for aluminum cans or cartons (these are easier to recycle)

Swap balloons for other party favors (many released balloons end up in our oceans). Penguins and other sea animals can choke on or get tangled in these while swimming.

Conscious Pet Ownership

Choose pets responsibly and never abandon a pet if you can no longer take care of it. This could lead to the rise of invasive species.

Keep pets on a leash when outside even when you do not see local wildlife.

Penguins, especially those whose habits are around human populations, are regularly attacked and lethally injured by unattended dogs or cats. These include feral or stray animals that have become invasive.

Learn More Directly from Non-Profits:

SANCCOB is an internationally renowned rehabilitation center for South African seabirds (including African penguins) leading conservation efforts for this species. https://sanccob.co.za/about-sanccob/

The Yellow-Eyed Penguin Trust is another great non-profit located in New Zealand that tracks behavior and nesting patterns of the Yellow-eyed penguins. They also remove invasive predators to ensure Yellow-eyed penguins have a chance at repopulating to sustainable levels. https://www.yellow-eyedpenguin.org.nz/yellow-eyed-penguin-trust/about-the-trust/

Penguins International is a nonprofit that educates about penguins and penguin conservation efforts. https://www.penguinsinternational.org/about-us/

Any AZA-accredited zoos and aquariums that support conservation efforts

Advocate:

Sign petitions encouraging legislation change that aims to reduce climate change or regulate fishing

Write to/email legislators when penguin species are at risk

Donate (if you can/would like):

Both Penguins International and SANCCOB do symbolic penguin adoptions to support penguin conservation.

On SANCCOB’s website, you can choose an egg, hatchling, rehabilitated penguin, or long-term penguin resident to symbolically adopt/sponsor. You even get to give your adopted penguin a name!

The Yellow-Eyed Penguin Trust also accepts donations of various amounts.

I figured since if you follow this blog, penguins have inspired media and art that means a lot to you or that has at least brightened your day. If you’re as amazed as I am about the real life species, please consider taking steps to help or learn more about real penguins. I figured sharing this information, while trying to make these changes myself, are the least I could do to honor these amazing creatures!

Thank you for reading! 😁

(Lol I’ll get off my soapbox now 😉)

Maybe Tom McGrath can explain it better 😉 (skip to 3:16 to hear him talk about how amazing penguins are! 😊)

[twinkboimler]

June Fic Recs

It's been a while since I put one of these together! Under the cut are a selection of great spirk, mckirk, spones, and mcspirk fics I've read in the past few months with a brief description of what I liked about them. Enjoy!

SPIRK

Tomorrow’s Circus by Borealisblue. TOS. Explicit, 56,084 words (as of 6/20/24). Work in progress. Circus au, 1930s, everyone’s human. The friends-to-lovers and pining in this is SO GOOD and I really think that everyone needs to be reading this fic. I haven’t been this invested in a fic in a long time; getting that subscription email letting me know this fic has updated can literally fix me when I’m having a bad day. Cannot rec this fic enough if you’re in the mood for a slowburn, plus the art in it is phenomenal.

A Perfect Fit by ThereBeWhalesHere. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences, 7,097 words. Role swap: Captain Spock and First Officer Kirk. Spock’s POV, admittance of feelings, first kiss. This fic is so lovely, I love a fic where I get to just watch these two get to know each other and fall in love.

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin). SNW and Disco. Explicit, 138,921 words. I loved this fic. The pining and sexual tension is so good, and this fic has a good balance of humorous fluffy scenes and angst and incredibly hot smut. It’s a spirk fic, yes, but it really dives into sibling dynamics as it explores the Kirk brothers’ relationship as Spock continues to process the Michael-shaped hole in his life. I love this take on this era’s Spock, there’s so much he doesn’t know about himself yet. I also really adore how this fic writes all the characters—you really get a sense of everyone’s personalities in this fic, the entire crew feels so ALIVE. Just fantastic characterizations of everyone!

Big Me (But It's You I Fell Into) by waketosleep. AOS. Mature, 38,728 words. This is the fic that got me to care about golf. I wish I was kidding—now I join my in-laws when they’re watching it on the TV. This fic has a scene between McCoy and Kirk during Kirk’s first tournament with him that had me laughing my ass off. Never not thinking about this fic; the dangerous part about reading a sports au is suddenly you care about that sport. Don’t think it can happen to you? Give this fic a try. 

Consume by the_moonmoth. AOS. Explicit, 1,139 words. Must be logged in to read. Very hot smut. Dirty talk, mind melds, Bottom!Kirk and Top!Spock. This fic just hits.

You Could Call It Love by lurikko. TOS. Mature, 45,791 words. Fake marriage, slowburn, getting together. This fic is SO good, just a whole bunch of tropes that I adore.

SPONES

That Which Lingers by stanzas. TOS Movies. Teen and Up Audiences, 1,008 words. Takes place after The Search for Spock. Established relationship with some very sweet moments as they deal with the lingering side effects of the fal-tor-pan. This fic is just everything to me, it absolutely melted my heart.

So Hold Me Close and Say Three Words by Rusoe. TOS. Mature, 1,103 words. Omegaverse. Nesting, Omega!McCoy and Alpha!Spock. I absolutely wasn’t expecting this fic to dive into insecurities about aging when I clicked on it. Loved this!

Stop Making Sense by therev. TOS. General Audiences, 13,775 words. Spock is severely injured as a result of a decision McCoy had to make in order to save the lives of others. McCoy carries a lot of guilt over his actions, even as Spock recovers from his injuries. Very good.

it’s all downhill from here by strangenewwords. AOS. Teen and Up Audiences, 2,082 words. McCoy takes Joanna sledding. Joanna gets overtired, and McCoy gets overwhelmed and panicky. Love this fic’s take on Dad!McCoy, and the spones in this is so damn sweet.

MCKIRK

and i can lend you broken parts that might fit (like this) by jeyhawk. AOS. Explicit, 17,461 words. Academy era, first they hookup, then get to know each other, and then their relationship grows from there. I’m a sucker for fics with this setup. 

Resistless is your charm by fangirlandiknowit. AOS. Explicit, 6,031 words. After hearing about Uhura’s awful first date with Kirk, McCoy decides to text him. Includes some mini-golfing and a very good car hookup scene. Loved this.

MCSPIRK

Tex-Mex Eggrolls and Spinach Dip by Ncc1701ohno. TOS. Explicit, 3,746 words. Smut, light bondage. The setup for this fic is that Spock, McCoy, and Kirk find themselves stuck in the 21st century and work at the Cheesecake Factory in order to make ends meet. I desperately want this fic to become a multi-part series, because the concept is endlessly amusing to me (which is pretty obvious since I partially inspired the idea). A very funny and very hot fic.

Everything That Disappears by sagesiren. AOS. Mature, 19,748 words. Academy era, kid fic, Trans!McCoy, fluff and emotional hurt/comfort. Absolutely loved this, McCoy being a single dad is everything to me. A very entertaining get-together fic for the three of them while exploring parenthood and being trans.

Approximation by liadan14. AOS. Explicit, 15,167 words. Mutual pining, hot smut, and a really interesting plot told non-chronologically. I especially enjoyed Spock’s characterization in this fic, but I love how all three of them are written!

[preet-01]

That was not how I had hoped the game would go. I feel so so so sad and depressed. And as always, whenever I'm sad, I write

Here is a dosh fic that I started last year about a potential COTA special helmet and just finished today. It was headed in a much sadder, angstier route, but I needed something to make me feel good after that game so it ends on a happy note now

They had designed it together. 

In the middle of the night, as the post-sex haze wore off and sleepiness seemed like a far-off thing, they had spent hours designing the perfect helmet. Bits and pieces of both of them create one perfect item for Daniel to wear during one of his favorite races – the race that felt like a home race despite being so far from Perth. 

“Are you sure about this?” Josh had asked, no louder than a whisper, unwilling to ruin their good mood with second guesses and insecurities. “There’s no putting the cat back in the bag,” he adds, but it only causes Daniel’s brows to furrow as he mouths ‘cat in a bag.’ “No turning back,” he clarifies. 

“I’m sure,” Daniel says, “I don’t want to turn back… or put cats back into bags. I’m done hiding and pretending I’m not dating a man I love.” 

“I love you too,” Josh replies instantly. 

“Are you sure? The US isn’t like some other countries, but it hasn’t exactly been the most welcoming of gay athletes, especially not in sports that are considered macho,” Daniel inquires, somehow nuzzling further into Josh’s side. 

“I want everybody to know that I’m the only man for Daniel Ricciardo and he loves me almost as much as I love him,” Josh answers, certainly not thinking of certain European Formula One drivers and Australian motocross riders and who knows how many other athletes in sports that Josh only cares about when the Olympics are on. All of them had tried to get Daniel, but Josh had been the lucky bastard to succeed in doing so. 

“Almost? I think you’re wrong, I love you more,” Daniel retorts. 

“Impossible,” Josh states, placing the helmet design on the nightstand and getting on top of Daniel. 

“Very possible,” Daniel replies, arms instantly wrapping around Josh’s shoulders as he pulls Josh down closer to him.

The next day, after some delay in the shower and then on the kitchen counter, they’d emailed the design to Daniel’s helmet designer and confirmed that it should be sent to Josh’s home in Buffalo where Daniel intended to stay before COTA. 

That had been during Formula One’s summer shutdown when Daniel had spent a few days in Josh’s home – just shortly after the summer swap had been called off but signing for 2025 was still on the horizon. 

Weeks later, when the helmet was delivered, Josh had put it in a guest bedroom closet – waiting to open it until Daniel was there with him. It was their helmet and it didn’t feel right seeing it without Daniel by his side, or rather in his lap as he tended to prefer. 

But the helmet, like many things, had been forgotten in the wake of Singapore. 

“Come to Buffalo,” Josh had whispered on the phone with Daniel. Daniel had gone to Perth like he’d always planned to after Singapore, but now Josh worried that Daniel would prefer to stay there and hide away from the world in the comfort of the home he’d left as a teenager. “People are good here, don’t bother anyone. Come home to me.” 

Days later, many of those spent reassuring Grace, Michelle, and Joe that he’d keep Daniel’s mind off of all things Red Bull and Formula One, Daniel was finally back in his arms. “Missed you,” Josh mumbles into Daniel’s neck. 

“Missed you too,” Daniel replies, his accent stronger than usual – a common occurrence whenever Daniel returns from Australia. 

They spend the day in bed. Daniel cuddled up against Josh’s side as they watched some trashy movie that’d popped up on Josh’s recommended list. 

It’s nice and Josh wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life there. Just the two of them and the bubble they’d made – keeping out all outside noise. But Josh is in the middle of his season so they can’t do that, no matter how nice it would be. And Daniel, despite no longer driving, does have commitments. 

So he has to leave Daniel at home while he goes to practice. In the back of his mind throughout it all is Daniel. He had left Daniel in bed, wearing only Josh’s shirt with marks that Josh had left behind the night prior. 

He expects to find Daniel either in the middle of meetings or maybe watching TV when he gets home. He doesn’t expect to find Daniel in the guest bedroom with the helmet they’d designed together. Hell, he’d even forgotten all about it until this moment. 

“Daniel…” 

“I… I had forgotten that we’d…” Daniel trails off, eyes never leaving the helmet in his lap. The helmet is just as they’d designed it. It’s the perfect helmet to show their love for one another. 

“I should have put it somewhere out of si-” Josh begins to say. 

“No, they do not get to ruin this,” Daniel cuts him off, “we need a sticker.” 

“A sticker?” Josh questions. 

“Yeah,” Daniel answers as he gets up. Setting the helmet on the bed, Daniel starts rummaging through the closet until he finds a sticker. A ‘17 Allen’ sticker is carefully placed on top of the VCARB logo on the front of the helmet. “Can’t do much about the bulls on the sides, but we can cover this,” Daniel says. 

“What should we do with it?” Josh asks, stepping closer to Daniel so he can wrap his arms around him. 

“I would still like to come out with it if that’s okay with you,” Daniel says. 

“We could come out by kissing on the field and that’d be perfect with me. All I care about is showing the world how much I love you and how happy being with you makes me,” Josh replies, pressing a kiss onto the side of Daniel’s head. 

“Oh, we are most certainly kissing on the field,” Daniel states as Josh imagines the scene. The Bills would have just won a game and Daniel would come onto the field for celebrations – he’d be wearing Josh’s jersey – and neither of them would have been able to stop themselves from kissing. For once not caring how the world will perceive their actions, but instead just wanting to kiss in celebration. “But I was thinking I could take a picture of you wearing it and post it.”  

They end up making a joint post on Instagram. The first picture is of Josh wearing the helmet (17 Allen sticker front and center ) and the gray FEA sweater. The second picture is of Daniel wearing Josh’s jersey and a Bills beanie. The third picture is from just after the 2023 Miami Grand Prix when they’d been in LA together. They’re kissing in the picture. Any eagle-eyed fan would be able to note that they’re wearing the same clothes as they had been in the now infamous cheek kiss picture Daniel had posted in his June 2023 photo dump.

The caption simply says ‘Love.’ 

It’s not on a racetrack or a football field, but it gets the message across. Josh Allen and Daniel Ricciardo are happily dating and nothing will ruin that. 

[percyspinkpoodle]

can you do a chris x reader where the reader is having a hard time speaking in a car video and becomes frustrated with herself and chris helpe her and calm her down?? sorry if this is confusing

cat got my tongue - c.sturniolo

pairings- chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing?? but this is EXTREMELY short and rushed..

a/n: hopefully this is what you were thinking!❤️ please keep the requests going im literally willing to write nearly ANYTHING so don’t be afraid to request :)

☆彡𐬾𐬺𐬿𐬻𐮙𐬾𐬺𐬿𐮚𐬾𐬺𐬿𐮙𐬾𐬺𐬿𐮚𐬾𐬺𐬿𐮙𐬾𐬺𐬿𐮚𐬾𐬺ミ☆

“One time i threw a basketball at my brother’s nose and made him bleed but then i gave him a bit of salad to cheer him up.” Chris reads from the seat infront of me, his voice softer than usual.

I had been situated in Matt’s car, next to Nick in the back seat. Chris, my boyfriend knew my day had not been the greatest today.

For starters, i woke up on my period. Then, everything was just going wrong. I had to rewrite a whole email i had accidently deleted, my hair wasn’t going the way it was supposed to, my makeup clung to all my dry areas, i burned the last slice of bread, and I was just so angry about everything!

throughout the day, Chris made sure not to leave my side in case i needed anything, and was way calmer than he usually is.

I snapped out of my daydream about everything wrong that happened today by Nick’s voice asking me a question. “What about you, y/n? Do you think they are naughty or nice?”

“Uh, i think- like, it kind of, like depends, on what they- what on they, on what they what they’re for-“ I cut myself off with an irritated yelp, my hands grabbing my hair, a habit that i should probably work on growing out of.

My knees tucked in to touch my chest, my chin resting on the top of my knees as i pulled my hair out of frustration.

Chris was quick to act, frantically removing my hands from my head. His hand falls to my knee as he gently strokes it will his thumb. “It’s alright, take your time.” He says gently, before facing Nick.

“Move.” He orders. “What?” Nick replies, confused. “Move, swap seats with me.” Chris replies, already getting out the car.

Nick opens his car door without a word and hops into chris’ seat.

Chris climbs in the seat next to me, immediately putting an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest as his free hand falls to my thigh.

“Do you wanna try again, baby?” He asks gently and quietly.

He doesn’t wait for an answer and gently pushes my thighs to my legs in a normal position again. “C’mon. What do you think? you think they’re naughty? or nice?” He asks, rubbing shapes into my shoulder.

“I think, it depends” I say slowly, before he nods proudly. “yeah? on what?” he whispers.

“Well, what did- what did the brother do to get..hit.” I reply quietly. “I think you have a point! well done ma.” He says encouragingly.

“okay well i think it’s an absolute sin that a bit of salad improves someones mood.” Nick says quickly, ruining the moment.

[nastyaromatherapy]

"I don't get it"

Y/n's been through so many tutors for econ, and all of them have bailed on her. Today was her first day with Ethan Landry.

pairing - Non-ghostface!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

short, 567 word blurb

Y/n strutted her way down campus to a fountain to meet up with her new econ tutor, Ethan Landry. She's always noticed the boy, focused in class while she goofed off with her friends.

She wasn't popular per se, she just had a lot of friends to distract her. So, she's always needed a tutor. She'd show so much promise during sessions, but always failed to pass classes. The tutors always left her, and the only one willing to give her a chance was Ethan.

She sat at the fountain, shrugging her bag off of her shoulder to start unpacking. She was a little worried, worried someone would give up on her again. But she had the slightest bit of hope. Once, she and Ethan actually swapped each other's papers to grade. He was flabbergasted to see that she barely even got half of the quiz right and offered to tutor her. However she turned it down.

"Finally decided to take up my offer, huh?" Ethan said, joining her at the fountain. "Whatever," she sighed. "You're literally my last hope, please, don't leave me." He nodded at her. "So, what are you struggling with?"

"Inflation," she responded. "Just don't inflate it, it's that simple." Ethan chuckled to himself at her unawareness. "Well it's a lot more complicated then that," he said, taking out a pen to write with. "I think I slept through that lecture," she said as she scratched her neck.

"Economies change and prices have to go up or down to meet demands. The economy is like dominoes, one thing changes then another, and another. Do you have your textbook?" She huffs in response and takes the heavy brick out of the bag.

--

"I don't get it!" She exclaims, getting frustrated. The sun was getting close to setting and the session proved to be a waste, she learned nothing. She couldn't blame Ethan, he was a good teacher and good at explaining. Economics was just something she couldn't wrap her head around.

Ethan was patient and was not getting frustrated with her, which was different than all of her other tutors. "And that's okay for now. This wasn't completely a waste, we've learned that this way isn't beneficial for you. I'll try something else next time, okay?"

She nodded at him, and when she looked up at him she caught on to what he said. "Next time?" she asked, confused. "Yeah, if you want that is." He responds. "You're not gonna like, abandon me?" He laughs, "Why would you I do that?" She shrugs. "I don't know, that's just what everyone's ever done." He shakes his head. "Economics' just aren't your strong suit, but you'll learn. I believe in you." He assures, smiling at her.

She smiles back, surprised that he didn't want to quit. "Thank you, you're the first person to ever do that."

"Of course. Anytime you need help, just email me." She shakes her head. "Why not text you? I'll give you my number." She takes his already opened phone and adds herself as a contact. "Thanks, Ethan," she says again. "I'll text you, okay? Make it home safely for me." She waves Ethan goodbye before walking back towards her room, his words making her more confident for next session.

Ethan let's out a blush when she leaves, staining his cheeks fuchsia. He's never been more eager to tutor someone again.

[soul-controller]

Commissions Now Available!

Hey everyone!

I've recently moved into a new apartment and the increased costs of rent and utilities has caused me to run dangerously low to having no money in my bank account. Given the fact that I can't get more hours at my job right now despite my best attempts, I thought I'd open up commissions again to see if I can help get some extra money for these upcoming bills.

Cost

In terms of the cost, it's $25 per 1k words and payment would be required upfront due to the aforementioned pressing issue of bills.

With this cost / pricing breakdown, please be realistic with the idea you'd like to see written in tandem with the cost you'd like to pay. I can admit that my writing is relatively lengthy and descriptive, so if you would like a fully detailed transformation, it would most likely be something that is 3k words minimum.

Despite my longer writing style though, I can certainly do a shorter vignette-style transformation that range from 1-2k words. If you'd like examples of these, my most recent posts on Tumblr would best fit that description!

Writing Themes

Things I Can Do

Possessions

Body Swaps

Muscle Growth

Age Progression

Weight Gain

Gender Swaps (Male to Female or Female to Male)

Twink TFs

Animal TFs

Celebrity / Character TFs

Things I Won't Do

Underage (everything must be 18+)

Hypnosis

Hyper Muscle

Anything Violent (especially in a sexual manner like rape)

Bathroom Stuff (water sports or anything like that)

Wait Time & Delivery

In order to not disappoint anyone by overpromising and underdelivering, my quoted wait time from finalizing the outline to completing the story is usually a month long. If a story is longer than 3k words or much more intricate, that time will most certainly be increased a bit.

Once the story is completed though, you will receive a link to a Google Doc that will remain open and accessible for a month to allow the commissioner to have ample time to download the story for themselves. If desired, a copy can also be emailed additionally!

If you're interested in potentially commissioning a story, please feel free to reach out via DMs here (no asks). Although I'm in need of money, I must state that I reserve the right to refuse any idea proposed. Whether it's simply the fact that I believe I'm not the right person for the idea or I'm just not meshing with the concept, this decision is final. Even if one idea is rejected though, you can still offer up other ideas!

Thanks for reading and I look forward to working with some of y'all in the future!

-- Soul-Controller