#it's right there!!! the world is right there in front of you!! all the time!!!

[vanesycho]

Summary:A little warning to your boyfriend who is insecure about his face.

warning:smut, face riding, pussy eating

a/n: @ldh0000 hope you like it luv😔🫶🏻 really obsessed with him🙏🏻

wc:0,9k

"Baby, aren't you ready yet?" Chan spoke as he entered the room and looked at you doing your makeup in front of the mirror, you looked at him in the mirror and spoke "No, I'm sorry this is taking so long." Chan walked over to you and leaned over the mirror, fixed his hair "Wow, today I'm declaring myself the ugliest man in the world." You put down your makeup without reacting to his 'joke' and turned to him, saw that he's smiling at you "How many times do we have to talk about not saying things like that?" He looked at your furrowed eyebrows and chuckled, kissed your cheek "Oh, don't take it seriously honey. It was just a joke. I mean… when I look at myself, well… I'm just exaggerating a bit."

You rolled your eyes and talked more to yourself as you did your makeup "It pisses me off that you don't realize how good you really look. I can't understand all your insecurities." he folded his arms and continued to listen to you as the smile on his face grew "I wonder how you dare to call yourself ugly when your handsome face and amazing body drive me crazy. I could even sit on your face and praise you for hours just to prove how beautiful you are, stupid." He raised his eyebrows questioningly and let out a chuckle, then you realized what you said and turned your head to him and made him laugh.

"Okay I didn't expect this much, to be honest. But I can't say I didn't like it." he leaned towards you and spoke against your lips "Should we cancel today's plans? So you can sit on my face and I won't joke about my looks again." You licked your dry lips, the thought of it making you clench your legs together. "Promise?" He smiled and held out his hand. "I promise." You took his hand and stood up, watching Chan take off his shirt and lie down on the bed. You now realized you were holding your breath and let out a deep breath. Chan, who was looking down at you, bit his lower lip excitedly and patted his lap. "Take off your clothes and come here," he didn't even have to repeat.

Your panties were on the floor in a short while and you were now on his lap, he gripped your hips tightly and let out a deep groan as he pressed you against him. "You look so beautiful." You smiled at the compliment you received. "You should see yourself. God...I have the most beautiful boyfriend." He gave a shy smile and pressed you back against him. "Let me taste you, I can tell how wet you are even through my clothes, fuck." You lifted your hips and moved forward a little more, stopping when you got to his face, Chan placed his hands on your legs and gave your clit a small lick first. When this unexpected move made your hips move away from his face, Chan tightened his grip and made you sit down completely.

His tongue started licking your hole, as you felt his big nose, made you let out a loud moan at the same time. "C-chris..Y-yes- you're so good.." The compliment he received excited Chan instantly and he continued his tongue strokes. Your moans showed that he was doing a good job, and with the confidence that came from it, he took care of your entire pussy. You ran a hand through his hair, begging for more. “Ride my face baby, I know you want it. Make your boyfriend happy by giving him what he wants.” You started to move your hips slowly, Chan’s face was almost completely covered with your juices, you moaned in pleasure as he sent a muffled moan into your pussy. “Please- you’re so good yes keep going- f-fuck I’m so close.” Chan didn’t care if he was out of breath at that moment, he didn’t stop or slow down his movements, what mattered right now was for you to cum on his beautiful face and he wanted it right now. Your moans were now like tears, your hips roamed over his face, Chan’s tongue was enough to destroy your hole. First he licked it all over and then he guided it to your hole and pushed it inside, while he helped you ride his nose where it was right next to your clit. Your hips were still moving to your face, you let your clenched body relax as you finally came. The cum that was dripping from Chan’s chin started to run down his neck. He didn't let you get up, he wanted to clean up every bit of liquid himself.

When he finally loosened his grip on your legs you shifted to the side and looked at him, swallowed as you looked at his face that was still full of your juices. “Fuck, you’re beautiful even when you’re this messed up.” He laughed at your hypnotic tone and looked away from you for a moment. “Thank you baby. Ah..if that’s what I’m going to have to go through every time I’m insecure, I’m okay with that.” You laughed and punched him lightly in the chest. “No, you promised.” He caught the spot you hit and a laugh echoed through the room. Chan leaned in and kissed your head. “I know, I’ll keep my promise…If you sat on my face every time I wanted?” You nodded, he smiled at that. “Good. Come back now, I’m not done with you.”

[luveline]

hi! i hope you’re doing well! could i please request a little something about hotch coming home from a case to non bau!reader and jack watching star wars, just bonding and being cute. he wants to hug you both so bad cause he missed you and loves you but he doesn’t want to interrupt your moment

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You drop your head back into the cushions to avoid getting whacked in the chin with Jack’s forehead. “Woah,” you say, laughing as a wave of buttery yellow popcorn kernels drop onto the floor. “Good thing we have hardwood.” 

“Why?”

You grab a handful of popcorn to eat from the bowl. “‘Cos all I’ve done today is make a huge mess.” 

Hotch smiles from the doorway. It’s dark in the house, and the music blaring from the television has occluded his arrival. You’ve no idea he’s watching you now, and you don’t act much differently than if his presence was announced. In fact, he’d say that sometimes you’re so focused on not overstepping your place in Jack's life that you restrain yourself. 

Butter and comfort alike has loosened the reins. You cuddle Jack to your side, the two of you laying across the long sofa with a faux rabbit fur throw wrapped around your two bodies, his head nestled under your chin. Your arm is around his tummy, belting him to you while blue light flashes over your faces. Lightsabers paint your eyes, their zinging and humming near painful in his bad ear. 

“Who’s side are we on again?” you tease. It’s subtle, but Hotch knows you’re joking. 

“Oh my gosh,” Jack says, “you forgot again? That one,” —he points at the screen— “that’s Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

“And we’re team Obi Wan?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Of course,” you echo, clearly finding him funny. “But the other one is more handsome, don’t you think?” 

“Am I handsome?” 

“Jack, you are the most handsome.” You stroke his hair back and encourage him to meet your eyes. “You’re so, so handsome, babe, you’re beautiful, and so smart, and so awesome. You’d wipe the floor with Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

Jack manages a reproach through his bashful smile, “I wouldn’t fight him, he’s the good guy. I would fight him.”

“Hmm.” You grab some popcorn from the bowl in front of Jack and eat a few pieces, then offer it to Jack. “I wouldn’t fight him. He’s too pretty.” 

“He’s evil.” 

“He doesn’t look evil.” 

Jack laughs and turns to you completely. “You’re funny. People don’t look evil, they just are sometimes.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just confused because all the good people in my life are beautiful.” You hug him behind his shoulders, looking at him with all the love in the world. “You’re a great example. You’re handsome, so how am I supposed to know you might be evil?” 

“You have to be careful,” Jack says sincerely. 

“Baby, I am. I promise I am.” Your eyes squint closed with your gentle smile, your noses almost touching. “I’m just kidding with you. I love having jokes with you.” 

“I love having jokes with you.” Jack gives you a quick hug, arms tight behind your head and his face nuzzling your collar. “Thanks.” 

“Thanks! Oh, you’re welcome, you don’t have to say thanks!”

“Well…” Jack pulls away, shrugging as you manoeuvre him bodily into a more comfortable position beside you. “I just think you should fight Anakin because he’s not kind, even if you think he’s handsome.” He says handsome with all the intonation of a boy discovering cooties for the first time. 

You shrug, eat another handful of popcorn, and seemingly see the light. “Alright, I’d fight him. I suppose I already have your dad, right? I don’t need any more handsome men in my life. Two is enough.” 

“Yeah,” Hotch says, flicking on the light, “I’d say so.” 

Jack jumps, upending another wave of popcorn onto the floor. You grab the bowl, and Jack has enough wits about him to hop over the spilled kernels rather than crush them as he presents himself to Hotch for hugging. 

“Hi!” Jack says. 

He’s getting longer. It takes Hotch more effort than it ever used to to pick him up and pat his back. “Hi, buddy. Nice jammies, those are new ones. Is Y/N giving you gifts again?” 

“She always gives me gifts.” 

“I’m buying your love,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glare of the big light. 

“I love it,” Jack says. 

Hotch puts him back down on the ground with a kiss. “You should. Did you have a good day? Sorry I was working, I missed our Saturday.” 

“Dad, it’s okay, you always work. We went to the store and we got candy, and now we’re watching Star Wars and you’re back, so it’s okay.” Jack beams and puts his hands behind his back. “Will you watch it too?” 

“Sure, buddy, I just have to wash up. Did you have dinner?” 

“Y/N made me lasagna from scratch, even the pasta,” Jack says. 

He sounds deeply, sincerely loved. His pride at having you put time and care into the meal is evident, and Hotch knows that he and Jack are incredibly lucky to have you and to have Jack be able to experience it. Something as nondescript as dinner can make all the difference. 

You sit on the couch still, a touch bashful. “It didn’t take long.” 

“Was it delicious?” Hotch asks Jack. 

Jack nods hard enough to hurt his neck, head bobbing up and down. “The best!” 

“Well, she deserves a good thank you, huh? For taking such good care of you today?” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “What should we do for her, in return? Did you have dessert?” 

“No,” Jack whispers back. 

Alright, then that’s what they’ll do. You treat Jack like he’s a found treasure, and you love Hotch as easily as breathing. Hotch takes Jack’s smaller hand in his and gives you a look that promises the world’s most squeezing hug after they’ve procured dessert. “Can you pause the movie, honey?” he asks you. “We’ll be right back.” 

You shake your head at him, but your smile isn’t easy to hide. “Your dinner’s under the grill,” you say. 

He adores you more, somehow. “Thank you.” 

[gguk-n]

Hello there! Love your work on the Max Verstappen x reader fiction. If it isn't too much, can I request an angst based on the song " All I wanted was a coffee" by Samantha Ebert? You can decide the ending but, a gut wrenching angst with kelly is appreciated. Thank you!

I hope you like this, I tried to use the song in the way that I saw fit. The reader has many insecurities and bit of mommy issues. Mention of cuts and bleeding.

I wish you loved me

{Reader’s POV}

Max and I started dating soon after he got out of a really long relationship with his ex. With Max being a Formula One driver; the details of his past were general knowledge, did I wish I didn’t know? Yes. Because in the pictures of Max and Kelly, you could see his eyes sparkled and he would smile so bright sometimes and I felt like I never got to know that Max. But every relationship is different; I couldn’t compare it, could I?

Max was loving, I mean every boyfriend is. He would sometimes forget important stuff but he was a busy man with an even busier job.

But it hurt when I saw Max with P or Kelly for that matter. His eyes would light up; I just felt like crap every time he met them, but Max never noticed. At the end of the day, Max was always around P while she was growing up, it was a given she missed him, right?

It got worse when Kelly started coming to races and meeting Max. The worst was yet to come; the other girlfriends started to side eye me whenever me and Max would interacted as if Max was Kelly’s boyfriend.

I was in the bathroom when I heard them; they were talking about how Max and Kelly looked cute together, they were the model family, that Max deserved better. Kelly even talked about all the gifts he got her and P recently. I just sat there in the cubical for a very long time.

I waited, I was dumb I know but no one’s loved me before and the fact that Max was willing to love me even for a moment felt like relief. I didn't want to let him go, I could not when there was a chance he would come back.

I waited like always, Max was always away having dinner with P since she missed him. She missed him a lot ever since we started dating. I never said anything since Max was like her father figure but it hurt.

One of those nights, I was sat drinking whiskey, it was in Max’s alcohol cabinet. The bottle was almost over. The snacks dried up soon after the third glass. I was sat on the floor, glass in hand when Max walked in. “World’s best dad everyone” I sang. “How much did you drink?” He laughed. He laughed at me. “You know my mother was right” I said, trying to get up. “She wasn’t really the best mom, now was she” Max commented. “Yeah but she was right about a lot of things and she was right about how difficult to love I was” I laughed. Max looked at me with sadness in his eyes, “don’t pity me Max.... How could Kelly steal you from me?” I cried. Max said nothing. “No no sorry sorry, how can something be stolen from me when it was never mine to begin with.” I laughed bitterly taking the last swig from my glass. “The alcohol’s gone Max, just like your feelings for me or did you ever have them to begin with?” I slurred.

“Y/N I” Max began. “No Max, you’re not at fault. It’s my fault for coming between 2 lovers. You should’ve told me that you loved her, I would’ve never dated you” I cried for the first time tonight in front of Max. As I steadied myself, the whiskey bottle fell and broke, and I tried to pick up the pieces but ended up cutting myself. “Hehe look Max I’m bleeding” I giggled holding up my hand. “Y/N let’s clean that up” Max said trying to hold my hand. “NO, Kelly won’t like it. I’m not a home wrecker...or maybe I am” I laughed bitterly. “Let me help you” Max pleaded. “You look at me with so much concern for the first time since we started dating” I pointed out. Max’s eyes bore into mine. I tried to walk away but ended up stepping on the glass. “Look I’m bleeding from my foot now too. At least now people can see that I’m hurting since I’ll have bandages all over me. My heart ache gets missed every time, you know. Maybe now, they might see my hurt, for once” I said with fresh tears forming.

“Mothers are always right. I’m unlovable, always been. If only I was pretty, if only I was a model, if only I was thinner, if only I was….Kelly Piquet, then you would’ve loved me. But I’m me, I’m plain old difficult to love, Y/N that’s why I’m unlovable” I chuckled. “Let’s go to the hospital” he pleaded again. “No, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t worry about me anymore. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it. Then you can have your happy ever after with Kelly” I laughed bitterly. “Did you ever love me?” I asked. Max was quiet. “I was just a rebound wasn’t I. Tell me you really loved me even for a second” I begged. “I’m sorry.” He said.

I grabbed my phone with my other hand while bleeding on to the floor; “don’t worry. I’ll clean your place before I leave” I said looking at the trail of blood I was leaving and dialled my phone calling the only person I knew in Monaco, the only person who didn’t hate me or talk badly about me, Lewis. “Lewis, Hi....I need to go to the hospital. I’m bleeding” I giggled. “Are you drunk? How did you hurt your self? Where are you?” He asked concerned. “Yes, yes, home no wait, Max’s home” I answered. I heard him sigh. “Where Max?” He asked. “He’s here” I said looking up at Max. “Ask him to take you now?” Lewis suggested. “NO, we broke up, and ex-boyfriend’s don’t take their ex-girlfriend’s to the doctor” I explained. “What?” He asked shocked. “Please Lewis, it hurts. Can you come soon?” I asked. “I’ll be there soon” Lewis said and cut the call. I sat there and looked at Max, “The whiskey tasted sweet as always and you sobered me up so fast” I sighed looking at the mess I had made.

Lewis came to take me to the hospital; he did not speak to Max. I guess even he knew what was going on. I didn’t see Max again after that either.

[itneverendshere]

I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3

loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖

i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.

You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.

Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.

You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.

It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?

You’re not so sure.

"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.

Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”

You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”

You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.

“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”

He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”

No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”

He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 

You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.

Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.

The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.

Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.

You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.

That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.

Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.

“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.

You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.

Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 

I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..

But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 

“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”

What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”

“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”

You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”

Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”

Oh.

You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”

“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."

His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”

You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.

 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.

“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”

That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

“Dirty pogues who think—”

"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."

“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"

Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."

“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”

That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.

He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."

You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 

He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.

Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.

Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”

Girl drama your ass.

He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.

He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”

Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.

“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”

Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”

Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

"She’s a psycho.”

Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"

"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”

“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”

You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.

But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.

“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.

You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”

You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”

He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”

You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”

Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”

You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”

He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”

You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”

He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.

“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.

Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”

You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 

He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.

“I like you horny.”

You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.

You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.

“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"

You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.

But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 

His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.

You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 

“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”

He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”

You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.

“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.

He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”

You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.

You need him, and you need him now.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.

You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.

You feel filthy.

You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”

He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”

You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.

She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.

But you? You feel smug.

You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.

Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.

“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."

And that’s what makes it even sweeter.

[alostwanderernotfound]

HIV and COVID

A major barrier to preventing the spread of HIV is accurate test results.

There is a high chance there are many people with HIV that have it and do not know. We do not know how long this undetected time period is (lentiviruses are often associated with long periods of time of virus activity that goes undetected- 5 to 10 years or more), but there is a chance many individuals with HIV go undiagnosed for many years. Individuals during this time before an HIV diagnosis complain of fatigue and many undiagnosed disabling symptoms during that time period. HIV is able to cause changes to immune cells that prevent HIV tests from finding the infection. Some people get negative HIV tests when they are HIV positive. This means you could be HIV negative, but still have HIV in your blood and can spread HIV to other individuals.

Getting a COVID vaccination (and sometimes other vaccinations like the flu vaccination) can help the body identify HIV hiding in the body. This allows earlier treatment and intervention. Once HIV has been identified, it also reduces the risk for all individuals in our population to be exposed to more severe infections.

Getting tested regularly for HIV used to be part of our federal public health recommendations.

This just further emphasizes why this information is so important to know and healthcare needs to start testing for more diseases in more people and do these tests more often.

People often assume their infection came from an unfaithful partner, but in reality HIV has been spreading unknowingly to many in the medical community and still in the public sphere no one is talking about it like the huge deal it is.

This potential means people could be raped as a child, never have sex again, never encounter drugs, and then be miserable & living with an active HIV infection into their early 20s and they would never know. Once they got a positive test result they would have no idea where the infection even came from.

Our entire understanding of these types of diseases has to change and the seriousness of this topic has to be addressed by the world. This was theorized as a mechanism of HIV spread due to how many people were getting diagnosed but had no identifiable cause of their HIV, but now it’s proven and right in front of us. This is disastrous.

To everyone that told the truth about how they didn’t know how they got these types of diseases & how they had no idea where they got it from then faced judgement from others and even the medical community- you aren’t crazy.

On behalf of everything these types of diseases did to destroy families, relationships, and your body, I’m going to apologize right now for all the individuals that I know won’t ever give you an apology for what they did and what they said.

I believe you. I always did.

Without you telling your truth , we never would have been able to figure this out about HIV.

HIV is spreading in “HIV negative” individuals to other individuals as some researchers theorized.

The mRNA vaccination technology developed is now the foundation for the next generation of HIV treatment and disease control. We must continue to push and advocate for improving the lives of all people with disease and we all just took a huge step forward.

You do not have to be sexually active to develop HIV. Your sexual trauma doesn’t have to define your life for the rest of your life- you are stronger than you know and braver than you feel.

Find a place to get tested for HIV here:

I still recommend getting a NAT or “viral load” test done as the first test to see if you have HIV.

I think considering what we know about HIV and in consideration of all the things we still don’t know that this is the safest option. Any other test for this condition available today has too high of a chance of producing a wrong result. I find it extremely uncomfortable we still use the other types of tests in the hospital and doctor office settings.

If you choose to order a test through an online service be aware some tests only tell you about either HIV-1 or HIV-2 and will not always provide you information related to type 1 and type 2.

For example, here:

This will provide you information related to ordering a test that looks for both types of HIV instead of just one strain of HIV.

Stay safe.

[yestrnight]

DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE WE GO ! nite's kinktober 2024 m.list

ladies and gentlemen im about to match your freak this october

╰ may include. blue lock, genshin, honkai star rail, zzz, jjk, obey me, whb, twst

MESSAGE: warning i have not written anything yet lmao we're about to go in this bitch blind but lust is blind and baby imma read this like braille. this will be updated throughout the month also ignore my incoherent horny ramblings along the way. also i made this list myself. i made sure to choose all the freaky ones

day one | magical healing cock

PURI☆PURI HEALING CUM GO! magical girl! childe / reader ╰ oh no! while fighting the big bad monster, pure☆aqua accidentally let you, a civillian, get caught in the crossfire! before you transform into one of the baddie's goons, pure☆aqua needs to give you a magical girl's cum before it's too late!

day two | lactation

MY TITS ARE DOWN HERE! gallagher / gn! reader ╰ he's tired of slutting it out everyday for you and never catching your eye. after ingesting a vial out of sheer desperation, his heavy chest is now leaking milk and— oh dear, you wouldn't mind relieving his poor, swollen tits, right?

day three | audience

CLIP THAT, CHAT! streamers! venti, xiao, scara, heizou, kazuha / f! reader ╰ in a sex-positive world, showing off your nethers isn't going to earn you a ban on twitch.com. you, however, are a prude, and your streamer roommates are about to break you in front of the entire world just to change that.

day four | pegging

BY MY COCK YOU SHALL REPENT! oliver aiku / gn! reader ╰ playboys are the scum of the earth! you've watched all your friends cry one after the other because of some stupid washed-up soccer player. the last straw is oliver making your older sister cry! luckily, you've got just the right utensils to make him taste his own medicine...

day five | sex toys

THE MAGICAL POCKET PUSSY! ace trappola / afab! reader / deuce spade ╰ there's always something happening in night raven college, but even adeuce didn't expect a pocket pussy arriving on their front door step. there's really no harm in trying it out but huh... it feels so warm and wet... and huh! why are you blushing and squirming like that!?

day six | size difference

I'M JUST A GIRL :( true form! ryomen sukuna / f! reader ╰ after witnessing japan's newest oppressor in person, him and his 10 feet, four-armed, mouth-belly glory is all you can think about. so you accidentally stumble near his territory... just in time for sukuna to start wanting some fresh meat to make a snack of.

day seven | oviposition

TO EGG OR NOT TO EGG. naga! jamil viper / afab! reader ╰ you've been hearing rumors about a mythical naga residing in the forests. as an avid... researcher, you venture into the deep in search for the truth. you meet him, and quickly find yourself as his breeding ground this mating season.

day eight | monsterfucking

💉stay tuned for this day's lucky bastard!

we're not done yet !

[jo-speaks]

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

~

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 

Oh

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 

You didn’t need him. 

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

[redroomreflections]

Guide Me

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Gentle Hands One Shot

Summary: Natasha is going away on a mission and she wants R to think of her while she's away.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI

note: I wrote this entirely for myself. There's fluff in here too.

w/c: 3.6k

Natasha sat quietly on the couch, her eyes drawn to the scene unfolding in front of her. You were kneeling in front of her, your arms stretched out, your eyes and face reflecting the huge smile you had as you encouraged Brynn to walk.

"Come on, Bubs, come to me," You said. "Come to Mommy."

Brynn was clinging tightly to Natasha's knees, her own tiny, chubby legs wobbling. She gave a little squeal of excitement, almost as if to say "I'm nervous", her determination both endearing and fierce.

"Go to your Mommy," Natasha coaxed, "you can do it, kotik."

Brynn seemed to be encouraged by Natasha's voice, patting her leg before reaching out a hand towards you. Your excitement was palpable, Natasha could feel it radiating off of you, and she was sure Brynn could sense it, too.

"Yeah, that's it, Brynnie," You continued. "I'm right here. I'll catch you."

And then Brynn took her first, tiny, tentative step, the biggest smile on her face.

"Nat," You whispered, looking up at her. "She's walking."

Natasha laughed, her heart filling with happiness, the moment seemingly frozen in time. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, as Brynn navigated the cool hardwood floors. You were only a few feet away from her.

And then Brynn wobbled and fell forward into your arms. There was a moment of quiet cheering as you hugged her to you.

"Good job, baby," You praised. "Kaia, guess what? Your sister just walked to me." You informed your almost three-year-old of her baby sister's milestone.

Kaia giggled, clapping her hands together in delight. "Yay, Brynnie."

Natasha chuckled. Kaia was so like you in many ways. Almost a mini clone. Even down to the dance you two performed in celebration of Brynn's first steps. The baby giggled loudly as you twirled her, blowing raspberries on whatever body part of hers you could reach, as you danced around the living room.

"My turn," Natasha said. "I want to dance with my baby." She stood, holding out her arms in anticipation.

You carefully passed Brynn over, who clung to Natasha.

"Mama," She said.

"Hi, my love." Natasha smiled widely. "I'm so proud of you."

Brynn grinned, reaching for Natasha's hair, and tugging on it gently.

"Ouch, kotik, " Natasha laughed. "That hurts."

Brynn looked concerned, pulling back to look at Natasha.

"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart." Natasha smiled softly, bouncing the baby on her hip. "Just a little tug. But never mind that, you walked." She leaned in, giving Brynn a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

Brynn giggled, squirming in Natasha's arms, before laying her head on her shoulder.

"I think she's tired," You said as you scooped Kaia into your arms to twirl her around. "It is almost bedtime." Natasha's heart warmed at the sight. She couldn't believe you were the woman she had once only wanted to protect—a woman who had been through so much, who had needed space to heal. Back then, Natasha hadn't imagined your friendship could turn into anything more. She hadn't let herself imagine it. Sure, she'd found you beautiful—who wouldn't? There had always been a quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, even on the days when your world felt like it was crumbling around you.

But this? A life with you, with Brynn and Kaia? That had seemed like a dream she didn’t know she was allowed to have. And now, Natasha had it. She had all of you.

"You should get them ready for bed, Nat," You said, as Kaia wrapped her arms around your neck, clinging like she always did when bedtime rolled around.

"But, Mama, I want to play with Brynn," Kaia whined, her voice laced with the beginnings of a pout.

"I'm sorry, Solnyshko, but you need to sleep. Come on, kiss Mama goodnight," Natasha said, and Kaia sighed but pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek. "We'll play tomorrow. You have school, remember?"

"I hate school," Kaia grumbled.

"No, you don't," Natasha chuckled.

"Do so."

"Kaia," You warned, and Kaia stuck out her bottom lip.

"Fine," she grumbled, though there was a softness in her voice now. "But you have to promise two songs before bed." Her eyes gleamed as she stared over at Natasha, knowing exactly how to tug at her heartstrings.

Natasha feigned reluctance, though the smile on her face betrayed her. She held out her pinkie finger to Kaia. "I promise," she said, locking their pinkies together with a gentle squeeze.

"And you have to sing them, not play the music."

"Kaia," You sighed.

"Okay, fine." Natasha laughed.

"You're the best, Mama," Kaia cheered, stretching in your arms to kiss Natasha's cheek and then leaning over to give Brynn one, too.

"How sweet," You murmured, watching them with a smile. Kaia’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced with a satisfied grin as she slipped out of your arms and shuffled toward the bedroom. "I'll catch up on dishes while you handle these two." You offered.

"You've done enough already," Natasha insisted. "I can wash the dishes."

"It's alright, I'll get them," You replied, brushing off her protest. "Besides, I want us to have tonight together before bed."

"I'll put Brynn to bed, and then I'll meet you in the bedroom," Natasha decided, and you nodded, making your way into the kitchen. Natasha watched you go, unable to help the smile that came to her lips. God, she loved you.

By the time Natasha stepped out of Brynn’s nursery, the house was quiet—save for the soft clinking of dishes being washed in the kitchen. She had promised herself she would come to bed after putting the kids down, but when she saw you moving around the house, still tidying up, she paused in the hallway. You had already done so much—cleaning up the toys in the living room, starting another load of laundry, and now finishing up the dishes that she had insisted on taking care of herself.

Natasha leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment. There was something peaceful about the way you moved, even in the mundane tasks. She loved how you always wanted to keep the home you had together running smoothly, even when you were tired. But it also made her heart ache a little. You did so much, often more than you needed to, always giving, always caring.

Quietly, Natasha made her way over to you, her footsteps soft on the kitchen floor. You didn’t hear her at first, too focused on rinsing the last of the plates, but the warmth of her presence behind you made you pause.

"You’ve done enough for tonight," Natasha murmured, slipping her arms around your waist from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. "I thought we agreed we'd have time together."

"I was just cleaning up." You shrugged, letting the water from the faucet run over your hands for a moment. "You were busy with the kids. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Natasha said gently. "You do so much, and I appreciate everything, but I want you to relax."

"I'm used to taking care of things, Nat."

"I know," Natasha replied. "And I love that you are."

"I don't mind," You said, turning off the water and leaning back against her.

"But I do," Natasha replied. "Let me take care of you for once."

"Natasha," You sighed, but Natasha was already tugging you away from the sink. You turned into her arms, closing your eyes in pure delight when she kissed your lips. Her kiss was soft and slow, making your heart race. When you pulled away, your smile was wide, your cheeks a bit flushed, and Natasha thought you looked absolutely beautiful.

"I love you," She whispered, pulling you closer and brushing her nose against yours. "You mean so much to me. I wish I could show you how much."

"You do, Nat. More than you know." You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her again, a little harder this time, your teeth grazing her bottom lip. "Though I do love how affectionate you're being, why do I get the sense you're about to tell me bad news?"

"I don't think it's bad, necessarily." Natasha shrugged even as her hands continued to roam your waist. Lovingly, of course, no ulterior motives there. "It's just, I got an assignment."

"Oh," You said, your expression falling.

"I leave in two days," She explained.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Three weeks."

"And you won't tell me where?" You guessed.

"I can't," Natasha said. "It's a matter of national security."

"I understand." You nodded.

"But," Natasha added, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "When I get back, I'm not leaving the country for a long time."

"Is that a promise?" You teased, even though your chest was heavy with worry.

"That's a promise," Natasha replied, leaning in to kiss you again.

"How are you going to break it to the girls?" You asked. "You know Kaia has hard drop-offs at school whenever you leave."

"I have some ideas," Natasha said, "I'll have Wanda and Pepper take turns visiting. They can keep Kaia and Brynn distracted."

"Okay," You replied.

"Hey," Natasha whispered, her eyes searching yours with that intensity she always had when she needed you to feel her presence, her sincerity. Her thumb gently stroked your cheek as she leaned in closer. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I hate leaving you and the girls. But I'll come back. Always."

You swallowed, your heart feeling heavier despite her soft reassurances. It wasn’t just about her leaving for the mission—it was the way Kaia would cry at drop-offs, the way Brynn would ask for “Mama” with big, confused eyes, not understanding why Natasha wasn’t there. And as much as you tried to be strong for them, there was always a part of you that felt empty when she was gone.

"I know you will," you whispered, forcing a small smile. "It's just... three weeks is a long time."

Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, before her lips brush your temple. "I’ll make it up to you," she murmured, her voice low, comforting. "To all of you. When I get back, it’s just us. I’ll take a break—no missions, no assignments. We'll do whatever you want. I’ll even take Kaia to her soccer shots classes every week."

You laughed softly at the last part, shaking your head. "She loves those."

"I know," Natasha smirked. "But she's getting a little better at kicking the ball, and I'd like to see it."

You could hear the truth in her voice, feel it in the way she held you like she never wanted to let go. But the reality of her job was always there, lurking in the background, pulling her away when you needed her most. Still, you nodded, trying to push the worry aside, even if only for tonight.

"Okay," you said softly, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. "But you’re the one telling Kaia in the morning. I’m not dealing with that meltdown alone."

Natasha chuckled, holding you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Deal."

You held her tightly, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory, knowing that no matter how much she assured you that she'd be back, there would always be a part of you that was worried she wouldn't.

"I'm going to miss you," Natasha began, her voice soft and laced with sincerity. She kissed your lips again. An apology.

"I'm going to miss you too," you replied, your heart aching at the thought of her being away. "More than you know."

"I'll call every day," she promised, her hands tracking your back under your shirt. "Or as much as I can."

"I'd like that," you replied, kissing her once more.

"It'll go by fast," Natasha said. "Before you know it, I'll be back home with you, and we'll finally have a few weeks to ourselves."

"It's hard for me when you leave," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your side of the bed gets cold. I don't have anyone there to hold me. To kiss me." You're laying it on thick. "It's hard not having someone there to—"

"Stop it," Natasha said, and you smirked, pulling back slightly to look at her.

"Stop what?" You asked, playing innocent.

"You're not being very subtle. If you're trying to make me change my mind about leaving, it won't work. But the other part..." Natasha grinned. "You have ways to care for yourself while I'm gone."

"I know," you said, your tone softening, a smile creeping onto your lips. "but..."

"But what?" Natasha inquired. "Hmm?"

"I've never actually done that,"

"Wait. Really? You've never touched yourself before?"

You shook your head. "Never needed to."

"So you're telling me you're a virgin in that department." Natasha smiled. "This is news to me."

"Nat, don't tease." You pushed her away gently.

"Come here." Natasha pulled you back in. "I'll show you what to do," She promised. "I'll make sure you feel good. Better than good. Amazing. The best orgasm of your life."

"You make big promises," You raised a brow.

"You've had better?" She scoffed.

"No," You shook your head. "I've just never felt the need or the desire to do it."

"So you have no idea what to do?" Natasha questioned, and you nodded, a little shyly. "What is it, baby?" She asked, tipping your chin up gently, so you were looking into her eyes. "Don't be shy."

"I just—I've always been a little repressed with sex," You explained, avoiding her gaze. "I mean we've talked about it before. I'm a woman with two kids. I'm no virgin Mary. There's still so much I haven't explored and I can't help but think how inexperienced I am."

"Hey, look at me," Natasha said softly, cupping your cheek. "There's no rush to explore everything at once, but I'll be more than happy to guide you. In fact, I'm honored."

"You're sweet," You whispered, and Natasha smiled.

"Come on," She said, pulling you towards the bedroom. She closed the door behind th both of you and got to work setting up pillows and a small area in front of the six-foot mirror you'd insisted on having in here.

"Now, I'm not saying it's going to happen right away," Natasha began, pulling you into her arms and peppering kisses on your neck. "But if you'd like me to teach you the ropes, I'd be more than happy to."

"I'd say yes to anything you offer," You whispered to her as you sat in front of her. She instructed you to take your pants off while she did the busy work of unbuttoning your blouse.

"Are you comfortable?" She asked and you nodded, pulling her closer, craving her body heat and the comfort her touch offered.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Natasha began. She gently coaxed your legs open, admiring the wet spot already forming, as she leaned her head against yours. "You don't know how sexy you are like this."

"In a nursing bra and Wednesday panties even though it's Friday?" You joked.

"Especially in that," Natasha murmured. "You always look so good to me, baby." Natasha kissed your neck.

"Touch me," You whispered.

"We're getting there, beautiful," She promised, her hand sliding up and down your thigh. You sighed, closing your eyes. You knew Natasha would make you feel good, and would make this experience pleasurable and enjoyable. "But tonight you're doing all the work. Just follow my voice." She instructed as she trailed her hands along your body.

"Take off your panties," Natasha whispered, and you obeyed. Your hand hovered over the waistband of your panties, hesitating. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," You admitted, taking a deep breath.

"You're gorgeous, Y/n."

"You make me feel that way."

"Good. Because it's true." She replied, pulling her hands away. "Take your time."

You slowly slid the underwear down your legs, biting your lip nervously.

"I'll start, and then you can take over," Natasha said.

"What are you going to do?" You asked.

"You'll see." She replied. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," You said, nodding, feeling a rush of anticipation run through your body.

She began by stroking your belly, moving to cup your breasts and toy with your nipples.

"Do you like that?"

"Yeah," You nodded.

"How about this?" She murmured, her hands running over your hips. You moaned, arching into her touch.

"Mhmm," You cursed, feeling yourself get wetter.

"What else would you like me to do?"

"Just talk to me, please."

"Talk to you about what, baby?" She whispered, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice," You whimpered.

"I can do that."

Natasha's hands trailed along your inner thighs, her fingertips teasing your folds."I want you to use your fingers, just one," She began. "Feel around for that spot that feels good."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling shy.

"It's okay," Natasha whispered. "I'm right here. Do whatever feels good, baby."

You slid your fingers down between your legs, tentatively over your slit, before you pressed it between your lips. You were familiar with your own anatomy enough to find your clit. Your eyes widened slightly at the pleasure, the intensity, as you rubbed it gently.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes at the immediate pleasure, as you leaned your head back against her shoulder. Having her there as a source of support felt even better.

"Open your eyes, baby," Natasha instructed. "Look in the mirror."

You obeyed, your eyes meeting her's in the reflection.

"That's it, Y/n," Natasha murmured. "See how beautiful you look like this? With your legs spread open for me, your pussy soaking wet and waiting for me. You're perfect, Y/n."

"I want to go inside," You whispered. "Can I?"

"Of course," Natasha whispered. "Put one finger in."

You slowly eased a finger into yourself, whimpering at the sensation.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," You gasped. "But I don't know if it's enough."

"Try adding another," She instructed, and you obliged.

"Ah, fuck," You moaned, arching up into your hand.

"That's it, baby. Feel yourself, feel what you do to yourself," She whispered, her hands still stroking your inner thighs.

"Feels so good," You panted. Natasha used her hand to slow you down.

"Not yet," She kissed the side of your head. "I want you to enjoy this. I want you to think about me. How good I make you feel. Imagine your fingers are mine. Fucking you."

You groaned, the pleasure overwhelming, as you moved slower, taking your fingers in and out.

"Natasha," You whispered.

"Shh," She kissed the side of your head.

"I'm close," You whined.

"I know," She smiled. "But you have to wait."

"But why," You whimpered.

"Because it's better when I say so," She explained. She raised her hand, gently rubbing your breasts, careful not to be too rough. Though you do think about how much you would like it. "You're such a good girl for me."

"Nat," You whined, thrusting faster, as she held you closer.

"You're close, baby," She whispered, her fingers finding your nipples, gently tugging them.

"Please, Natasha, I'm so close."

"Tell me what you want," She demanded.

"Bite me," You tilted your neck for easier access. "Mark me. Please."

Natasha growled as she sunk her teeth into your neck, the pain and pleasure mingling together and making you moan. She sucked on the mark she had made, her hands roaming your body. You could feel your pussy clench around your fingertips.

"Fuck," You cried, your back arching.

"Cum, baby. Come for me," She commanded, and you obeyed, moaning loudly, as your orgasm crashed through your body, your muscles contracting.

"That's it," She soothed, holding you tightly, her hands caressing your sides. "Such a good girl for me."

You collapsed back into her embrace, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin.

"I don't know how you do that to me." You panted, your voice low and sated.

"Because I love you." She replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," You sighed, leaning back into her arms, as she stroked your hair. "Thank you."

"Of course, baby," She whispered, smiling at the sleepy expression on your face. "I want you to feel good when I'm not home. I want you to make yourself feel good."

"Thank you," You mumbled.

"You haven't taken your fingers out," Natasha pointed out.

"I haven't," You nodded.

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

"Are you ready to go again?"

"Not right now," You shook your head, closing your eyes. "I like being filled."

"Alright," Natasha chuckled.

"Can we just cuddle?"

"We can do whatever you want," Natasha replied. "Though we need to talk about the comment you just made."

"About being filled?" You questioned.

"Yeah," Natasha replied.

"Well, I like the feeling. And I'd like to feel more."

"Oh really," Natasha smirked. "How much more?"

"However much more you're willing to give." You kissed the part of her chin you could reach. "I do not doubt that if possible, I'd be pregnant by now."

"I'd love that," Natasha murmured. "Filling you with my cum and watching it leak out of you. Stretching you."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" You smiled.

"Very much so," Natasha kissed the top of your head.

"Would you want to be on top or should I?" You asked, opening your eyes.

"You can." Natasha offered.

"But I don't know what I'm doing," You protested.

"Trust me. I'll walk you through it."

"You always do," You sighed. "I'm so glad I met you. The way you love me."

"Me too, baby," Natasha said. "You make me so happy."

"And you make me happy."

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

------------------------------------------------------

Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him. 

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible. 

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say. 

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva. 

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction. 

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs. 

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.” 

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips. 

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts. 

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages. 

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought. 

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?” 

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time. 

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality. 

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close. 

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs. 

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”

[austinswife]

there’s a video where Tom Holland and Zendaya are at a premier and Zendayas dress strap slips or something similar happens, and Tom instinctively steps in front of her to block photos. I though this would be a nice thing to see from Austin and reader in a confirmed relationship

OOPS WARDROBE MALFUNTION — Austin Butler

SYNOPSIS — In the glittering world of Hollywood, walking the red carpet is nothing new. But tonight’s premiere is different—this time, you're not just stepping out as an actress promoting her movie; you're stepping out alongside Austin Butler as an official couple. As the night unfolds and the cameras flash, a minor wardrobe malfunction turns into a moment that solidifies your bond in the public eye, with Austin stepping in to protect you both physically and emotionally. The world may see two stars, but what you and Austin share goes deeper than the glamour.

WARNING(S) — Fluff , public attention, slight wardrobe malfunction, protective boyfriend behavior, slow burn, a little anxiety.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

The car’s engine hummed softly beneath your feet as the black town car cruised through the LA streets, its tinted windows offering you and Austin a brief moment of privacy before stepping into the storm of flashing cameras and prying eyes. The street outside the theater was packed with eager fans, reporters, and photographers. You knew the routine well, but there was no shaking the nerves fluttering in your chest.

Austin’s fingers were warm as they interlaced with yours. He could feel your tension before you even said a word. Glancing over, his piercing blue eyes met yours. His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, grounding you.

"You look like you're a million miles away," Austin’s voice was soft, yet it easily cut through the hum of the car’s engine and the bustling energy outside.

You smiled, the curve of your lips not fully hiding the anxious knot twisting in your stomach.

“Just thinking about everything,” you admitted quietly, shifting slightly in your seat as you glanced down at your dress. It was a breathtaking creation—black lace, bold, and daring, yet elegant. The way the fabric hugged your curves and the intricately sheer panels gave it an edge, but there was always that little voice of self-doubt that crept in during these moments.

Austin’s gaze followed yours, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he admired the gown. “You’re going to blow them away tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet certainty. His hand left yours for a brief moment, only to gently lift your chin with his fingertips, coaxing your eyes to meet his again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there with you.”

There was something about the way he said it, the way he always managed to quiet your inner storm with just a few words. Austin had always been that way with you—steady, reassuring, a constant in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of control. It was one of the reasons you’d fallen for him so deeply.

“I know,” you whispered, a genuine smile tugging at your lips this time. His calm confidence worked like magic, settling your nerves, at least for the moment.

The car rolled to a slow stop as you reached the red carpet entrance. The crowd outside surged forward, camera flashes beginning even before the car door opened. The sound of excited fans calling out your names filled the air. Despite your usual composure, the reality of being in the public eye as a couple for the first time hit you like a wave.

The door opened, and Austin was the first to step out. His tall frame emerged from the car, instantly commanding attention. Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo with a hint of daring beneath—a sheer black shirt that revealed just enough of his skin to make headlines—he looked like every bit the Hollywood heartthrob he was.

And yet, to you, he was still just Austin—your Austin. The one who left sweet notes on your pillow before he left for early morning shoots, the one who made coffee for you every morning just the way you liked it, the one who always knew when you needed a quiet night in instead of a glamorous evening out.

He extended his hand to you, his fingers gently grasping yours as you stepped out of the car and into the frenzy of the red carpet. The moment your feet hit the ground, the energy of the crowd surged, a cacophony of shouts and camera clicks echoing around you. You straightened your gown with a subtle motion, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on your shoulders.

Austin’s hand remained steadfast in yours as you began your walk down the carpet together. The two of you moved like you were made for this—he with his effortless grace, and you with your practiced elegance. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you, the cameras capturing each shared glance, each soft smile. The world had been waiting for this moment—your first official appearance as a couple—and they were devouring it.

The lights from the cameras were blinding, but you had grown used to that over the years. What you weren’t used to, however, was the pressure of being in the spotlight *together* with Austin. The public had speculated about your relationship for months, but this was the moment that confirmed everything. This was the moment where you both acknowledged the world was watching.

And while the thought made you anxious, it also made you feel a surge of pride. Pride that you were with Austin, that you had someone so supportive by your side on one of the biggest nights of your career.

As you posed together, turning slightly for the cameras, your arm slipped naturally around Austin’s waist. The photographers shouted your names, urging you to turn in different directions, their voices blending into a chaotic hum. You followed their instructions, the two of you moving in perfect sync, your connection palpable even in the midst of the madness.

But then, just as you turned to face the cameras head-on, you felt it—a shift in the fabric at your shoulder. In an instant, you knew something was wrong. The delicate strap of your gown had loosened, the intricate lace slipping off your shoulder and threatening to expose more than it should.

Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest. In front of you, the cameras continued to flash, oblivious to your distress. Time seemed to slow as you hesitated, unsure of what to do without drawing attention to the malfunction.

Before you could even move, Austin was already there, his body instinctively moving to shield you. With a smooth, effortless motion, he stepped directly in front of you, his tall frame blocking you from the view of the cameras. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you close as if the two of you were simply sharing an intimate moment in front of the cameras.

But you knew better. You could feel the tension in his body, the protective instinct that kicked in the moment he saw your discomfort. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

His voice was low, calm, and full of reassurance. The panic that had gripped your chest began to loosen its hold as you took a deep breath, grateful for Austin’s quick thinking. You managed to subtly adjust the strap of your gown, fixing it before the situation could escalate.

To the outside world, it looked like nothing more than a tender moment between two people deeply in love. The cameras continued to click, capturing Austin’s protective stance, the way his arm wrapped securely around you, the soft smile on his lips as he whispered something in your ear.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” you breathed, the words barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Austin smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Always,” he said, the single word carrying a weight of promises.

Once you were sure your dress was secure, Austin slowly stepped back, his hand still resting lightly on your lower back as you both turned to face the cameras again. The moment had passed, but the intimacy of it lingered between you. You could feel the curious eyes of the reporters and photographers, their attention now more focused than ever on the two of you. They sensed that something had happened, but they didn’t know exactly what. And that was the beauty of it—the moment belonged to just you and Austin.

As you continued down the red carpet, posing for more photos, you couldn’t help but glance over at Austin, the love you felt for him nearly overwhelming. He had always been your protector, your rock in a world that often felt chaotic and unpredictable. Tonight had been no different.

As the two of you reached the end of the carpet, you paused just before entering the theater. The lights from the cameras still flashed behind you, but in that moment, it was just you and him.

Austin turned to you, his eyes searching yours. “You alright?” he asked softly, concern flickering in his gaze.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I am now.”

He chuckled, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You handled that like a pro,” he said, pride evident in his voice.

“Well, I had you looking out for me,” you replied, your voice soft with affection.

Austin’s smile widened, and for a brief moment, the world outside faded away. It didn’t matter that the cameras had captured every second of the night, that the headlines tomorrow would be filled with your pictures and stories speculating about your relationship. What mattered was the bond you shared—the trust, the love, the quiet moments in between the chaos.

Leaning down, Austin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go steal the show, shall we?”

You grinned up at him, your heart full. “Together,” you said softly, the word carrying a promise of its own.

And with that, the two of you stepped inside, hand in hand, ready to face the night—and whatever came next—side by side.

[overtake]

Trying to do something resembling coping after Singapore. Have some Max/Daniel hurt/comfort (1.3k). Also on ao3 if you prefer.

The press of a button freezes Max’s watery blue eyes, the space between them bifurcated by the crease in his forehead.

“Is now really a moment to remember?” Max asks in a raspy voice. His throat isn’t clogged by tears, but there’s almost a decades worth of race starts together sitting uncomfortably in there and congesting each word.

His hand hasn’t strayed from Daniel since he found him after the race. It’s somewhere on some part of him every time he’s close enough to touch.

Normally he’s halfway home by this point, Air Max somewhere over the circuit skies and headed back toward home.

He’s stayed, this time, in case this is it. In case this is his last chance to neatly fold Daniel’s clothes into his bag, even though his own are always wrinkled under pairs of stained shoes and dirty briefs. In case this is the last time they both exit the paddock as drivers. In case this is the final chance Max has to trace the shape of Daniel’s jawline and tell him, “Good race.”

Daniel’s mum is giving them a last minute alone. She’s standing guarding outside the door and leaving them be for now. Daniel knows, though, that when they stand, she’ll hug Daniel close, wishing he was little enough to hide in the crook of her neck while she covers all his gaping wounds with plasters and a kiss on each one to ease the ache. 

Despite his complaints about the camera, Max still moves from where he’s crouched in front of Daniel to collapse into his side and observe the photo. He wraps one arm around Daniel’s back to tug him impossibly closer and rests his mouth on the top of Daniel’s shoulder in an exhausted kind of kiss.

“I look like shit,” he says, statement muffled by the fabric of Daniel’s shirt. He sounds like he wants to poke fun at himself until he makes Daniel laugh, but they’re both too hollowed out to muster up the energy. Instead, Max reaches out and turns off the display.

For a second, their fingers linger together on the camera’s body, until Daniel lets the camera drop back against his chest so he can entangle their hands instead.

“It’s not a nice memory,” Daniel agrees. Unlike Max, his voice right now can all be attributed to tears. “But in December, no matter what happens after today, I’ll get a retake on the farm. I’ll be happy, and we’ll be together, and life will go on from now.”

Daniel feels the dampness on his shoulder when a single tear breaks containment, then another, and a shuddering breath, until Max rights himself and pointedly looks away from the tiny patch soaked in cotton.

“It’s not fair,” he says tightly. For a second, he sounds every bit the bullish teenager with a black and white view on the way the world ought to work and bitter frustration that sometimes reality dapples in nuance. It’s the first thing to get Daniel anywhere within city limits of smiling since he set the lap record and gave himself a final moment in the car to reflect on everything this sport had given him, and that he had given this sport.

“Yeah,” he agrees hoarsely. “It’s not fucking fair.”

He’s done with excuses and niceties and dancing on the Red Bull puppet strings in hopes that playing their game might finally net him a seat he’d killed himself to earn. It’s not fair. It’s callous and cruel, the way they’ve strung him and everyone who loves him along for a race they aren’t even brave enough to tell him is his last.

They’re silent for another moment. Daniel closes his eyes and soaks it in: the tendrils of freshly washed hair still trailing water down his spine. The din of dog-tired employees breaking down the paddock, to be quickly vanished away as if it was never here. The ragged in-and-out of Max’s lungs as he tries to coax both of their breaths into something resembling normal.

“Thank you, by the way,” Max says softly. “And congratulations on your lap record.”

“You owe me a really nice Christmas present.”

Max presses a whisper of a kiss over Daniel’s drying curls. “You always deserve the nicest presents.”

Daniel’s mum slips in then, gently shutting the door behind her. Unlike Max, she’s made no secret of her tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she musters up enough of a smile when Daniel heaves himself up into her arms.

“Come here, Max,” he hears his mum scold. A second later, Max is in an awkward three-person hug. Grace’s short arms struggle to embrace them both, but smelling her vanilla perfume and knowing she’s there is enough to surround him in all the ways that matter.

She whispers in turn to each of them, but they’re all so tightly wound, they can all hear every word.

“Thank you for being here every time I couldn’t be,” she tells Max. He murmurs something back, but he manages to keep it quiet enough that Daniel can’t make out all his words. It’s something about thanking her for trusting him with Daniel, but the rest is lost. All he knows is that his mum’s tears start flowing again.

When it’s his turn, she can barely choke out the words. “I’m so proud of you. For your career, of course, but for who you’ve grown into. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

“I love you,” is all Daniel manages. He buries the nose shaped like hers into the brown curls that his genes copy-pasted and soaks in gratitude that he has both her face and her endless capacity to love.

Daniel walks into humid night air with his head held high and a career most drivers would kill for, surrounded by people who love him for more than that list of achievements, and knows that he’ll survive whatever comes next.

“That’s a terrible photo,” Max complains three months later. His eyes are scrunched up all cute in it, framed by long lashes and sun-soaked freckles that are almost hidden by the streaks of dirt on his face. He’s smiling, both in the picture and right now, so Daniel knows he doesn’t actually mind.

Two weeks of busy Australian summer have left Max various shades of pink and tan. He'd somewhat learned how to use the grill that Daniel was too scared to touch and now had matching grill aprons with Daniel's dad. He christened the new baby cow the wholly uncreative name ‘Lilly’, because god forbid any animal in his vicinity not be named after Monaco nightlife. He’d also 100% taken to the dirt bikes as easily as everyone would assume and had absolutely, definitely not sworn Daniel to secrecy about where he got that giant bruise on his side after their first go.

When Daniel transfers the photos to his computer later, his finger pauses on the photo captured in a melancholic driver’s room. In it, Max’s eyes are dull and weary, but they’re looking at Daniel with the same unblinking love from today’s picture.

It’s proof, memorialized in expensive pixels, that Daniel’s life did not end on the streets of Singapore; that his worth to the world never depended on his points or podiums.

He closes the lid of his laptop and joins the gathering in the living room. Max is pouring fake tea for Isabella’s dolls. Isaac is politely sipping an empty teacup, one pinky in the air. Isabella is nowhere to be found, probably busy dragging Daniel’s poor parents to see Lilly the cow for the fifth time today.

“Daniel!” Max says, in the sweet, distinct way his mouth always forms the name. His face brightens when Daniel walks in. When Max smiles like that, it’s as if the sun has come through the roof and taken human form in broad shoulders and rumpled t-shirts.

“Max!” Daniel says back, matching his enthusiastic tone. He sits cross-legged in Isabella’s empty spot and slides his fingers between Max’s.

The tea party continues, and life moves forward.

[thelonelyshore-if]

Beck Drabble

Or, Beck wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Beck wakes up to the feeling of a warm body tucked snugly in the curve of his arms. Consciousness creeps, slow as frost on a window, as he tries to make sense of this. Shouldn't he be alone?

No–wait. 

A memory comes, springing to the front of his mind. Last night. It was late, and he hadn't wanted it to end, and he…he asked you to stay. 

He asked you to stay and you said yes. That one simple word–yes–dripping from your lips like honey. It terrified him. Excited him. He likes you, but this is a whole new level. You're in his bed. Your body fits against his like a puzzle piece, and his lungs are so tight they feel like they're going to pop. 

Air. Beck needs air. This is too much, too fast.

He untangles himself, attempting to gently pry his lithe form away from yours. He doesn’t want to wake you, regardless of the way panic stampedes through his chest. You look so serene. Beck slips his arm out from under you, tries to replace it with a pillow. Slowly pulls away, rolling over and dropping off the bed onto his feet.

The noise of his soles hitting the hardwood makes him flinch. Dark eyes shoot up and settle on where you lay, curled up with your back to him. No reaction. He exhales, relief not quite making up for the instant pang of loss in his chest. The AC unit in the window blows hard enough to leave a chill in the air, even though it’s October.

Usually, he likes it cold when he sleeps…but now the chill reminds him of how good you felt in his arms, warm and snug.

Beck turns his back on you. Closes his eyes. What was he thinking, asking you to stay? Had he lost his mind? He doesn’t know what to do with you here, in his bed, in his apartment. Sleeping the morning away, sure to wake up soon enough.

For a second he imagines himself in bed beside you when you do. Feeling you stir in his arms, turn around and look at him with sleepy eyes. Maybe you’d reach up, catch his lips with your own. Start the day with a kiss, bodies pressed flush together. 

He swallows hard, shaking his head. He can’t fall into that trap. He bounces in place, nervous energy coursing through him. He refuses to turn back and look at you–instead he pitches forward, taking a few stumbling steps towards his bedroom door.

The problem is, he thinks as he flees, that he likes you. Too much. More than he’s maybe liked anyone before. And he has absolutely no idea what the fuck he’s supposed to do about it. He’s not...not the type. He never has been. Relationships are tricky. Hard to pin down.

Beck isn’t really the type to be pinned down.

He reaches the doorframe, his heart in his ears. He grabs the knob, palms slick with sweat, and pulls it open. The creak sounds like a gunshot. He pauses, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. Hardly daring to breathe. Does he look back? 

What the hell is he supposed to do if he does and you’ve woken? How could he even begin to face you, if you looked up and saw him running away?

“I’m sorry,” he envisions himself saying. Hands shaking as he looks away, “I’m scared.”

Yeah, right. Like he’d ever.

Anyway, he isn’t scared. Beck doesn’t get scared. He’s just…

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have the words. All he knows is that he has to get out, to get some air. To think this over. 

You haven’t spoken, so he assumes he’s good. He finishes opening the door, stepping out into the hallway. Each step is tiny. Like his body is manifesting the hesitation he’s pretending doesn’t exist. His thoughts race, doubt chewing away at him.

Isn’t it silly, running away from his own bed? Especially considering he wanted you with him? And the way he felt with you in his arms, like everything in the world was right? 

Beck comes to a stop, excruciatingly slow. The fear still rages inside–fear of commitment, fear of letting you down, fear of fucking this up–but fear’s an old friend. One he’s used to ignoring. He looks over his shoulder at his door, propped half-open. 

It’s freezing in the hallway. You’re warm.

That’s what sells it. He’s cold, and you’re warm, and he misses you, besides. Slotting himself beside you in bed for a little bit longer isn’t a lifelong commitment. It’s just giving you the morning. Giving himself the morning. And what’s wrong with that?

Beck shoves down the fear and the doubt. He decisively turns heel, marches back into the room. Climbs back into bed quickly, not even trying to avoid waking you. He leans over you, long black hair framing your face.

Your eyelids flutter open, and you’re none the wiser. Beck smiles, bends down. He kisses you, hard and fast, cupping your cheek in one hand. You’re barely awake but you kiss back, and the feeling of it sparks something hot and smoldering deep in his chest. He lets the fire burn for a long moment before pulling away.

“Good morning?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep

Beck grins. He kisses you again, just a peck.

“Morning,” he says, before rolling to the side and flopping onto his back.

He wraps an arm around you, drawing you in close. The warmth of you is addictive, compared to the cold of the room, and he wants to lose himself in it. You burrow yourself deeper into his side. He thinks you’re still mostly asleep.

All the better. This is how the day started. Beck lets go of his hesitation, overwrites it with this moment. No need to dwell on uncertainty. He’s certain of you now, in this moment, and that’s all that matters.

[i-starcreamed]

Hi I heard you make transformers one oneshot umm I hope you won't mind, this actually a D-16 oneshot " what if his s/o get shoted instead of Orion" or " D - 16 meeting s/o for the first time"

D-16 / MEGATRON X READER

I combined both requests :3

cybertronian!reader SPOILERS FOR TF ONE Puree angst, character death, sadness :(

You were also a miner, like Orion and D-16. You met in a similar way they did.

You grunted, your limbs aching from pushing around the minecart around all day. It was filled with raw energon rock at this point, so it was a lot heavier. Last night, you hadn’t recharged well, and now you felt like you were running on your last drop of consciousness... Your optics widened when you unexpectedly bumped into something in front of you, sending your minecart toppling over and spilling its contents.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—“ You hissed, watching all the progress of the day come crashing down onto the floor. You pursed your mouth in frustration; this really sucked.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let me help you out, here.” A calm voice came from in front of you, prompting you to avert your optics toward the bot you had bumped into. You paused--hmmm, he was a handsome bot. You eyed his armor for a moment before realizing you were staring.

“Sorry! Uh, I’d appreciate that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You muttered, kneeling down to pick up your rocks, him beside you. He let out a small spurt of a gruff chuckle.

“No worries. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here. I’m D-16.” He introduced himself, you still remember the way he smiled at you. You nervously smiled back

“I’m Y/N. I was actually uh...promoted just recently. I’ve never mined energon before. It’s harder than I thought.”

“Oh, well, it gets easier. You get better at it too.” He said, tossing the last bit of rock back into your cart and helping you turn it upright.

“So where were you headed off to?” He asked, walking beside you now.

You took a deep breath. “To the trains? I was told to report to Elita-1 afterward.”

“Psh, really? That’s a coincidence, so am I.” He said lightly, grinning at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

It started as a friendship—you, Orion and D-16. You were a little trio. Despite this, Orion always noticed the particular… attention you paid specifically to D. When the three of you joked around, you would always look toward him to watch his reaction—or rather, his smile. You became bashful when he helped you with something, he, in turn, softened up around you. It didn’t take long for Orion to see right through you—meanwhile, D remained completely oblivious!! History says you were just friends

Eventually, you two started dating! You made a sweet couple, with Orion constantly third-wheeling. You can imagine everything you went through after kind of illegally participating in the race, getting thrown to Level 50 as a punishment, and uncovering the location of the Primes.

You watched as your lover changed, and it pained you. You saw his anger slowly shift and shift, first towards his best friend, then at everyone else. You watched as he became feverishly focused on killing Sentinel.

“D, don’t!”

Your yell went silent as you ran in front of sentinel, the blast from D’s cannon hitting you instead of him. The impact blasted through your chest, ripping through armor, your casing, and your wiring—until it struck your spark. This was the turning point when D-16 became.. Megatron. His optics widened, he stopped seeing red for a split second.

He watch as your body fell, the whole world seemed to come to a halt.

“Y/N!” He yelled and dived after your body, momentarily forgetting about his anger. Before you could fall into the depths of Iacon, he caught your arm. He didn’t waste a second as he desperately tried to pull you up. You had no strength left to help yourself--your body hung limp.

“Why! Why did you do that!?” He yelled at you, his voice shaking. As you slipped between consciousness, you realized you’d never heard your lover so emotional. Not like this.

“You can’t go, you can’t, you can’t you can’t—“

“D…”

Your arm started slipping from his digits. “I’m so sorry…you have to.. stop this. Please,” you whispered out, the light in your optics flickering.

Megatron stared at you, partly in disbelief at you and himself. “I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this, I-I promise,” He hissed, his servo desperately holding on. You knew you didn’t have much time left.

“D, please don’t this. I love you. I always will. No matter what I’ll always remember you as my D-16.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, roaring in anguish as your body slipped from his grip. He watched as you descended into the depths of your planet. You were going to become a part of Cybertron again, just as they all started out as. He’s so sorry.

He’s sorry he’s not the D-16 you knew.

Despite this loss, he still became Megatron. Afterall, he had nothing to lose now.

[hugejk]

2 years

pablo gavi x singer!yn

cw: mentions of drug usage, smoking, drinking, addiction.

quick a/n: sorry i’ve been VERY inactive lately, i do want to write more so i’ll accept any footballer reqs!!! :-)

||_________________________||

“it’s been 2 years since we’ve seen or heard from y/n, where could she be? Most people assume she decided to quit making music, some assume she gained too much weight and is too ashamed to step out in public. But i guess we won’t know for a long time now, leave a comment below on what you think about this.”

you sigh and put down your phone. It’s been 2 years since you’ve even been in the studio at all. A 2 year hiatus from the world. Flashbacks start to play in your head on how you even ended up here.

. . .

sitting out on the edge of balcony watching all the glowing stars surrounded by the darkness of the night. You life was a mess. Parties every other night, surrounded by people who didn’t care if they ruined their life. Taking random drugs whenever you could. Drinking most of the day. The joint inbetween your fingers burning into ash. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You were just tired of everything, and the comments on every little thing you did made everything more worse.

“maybe y/n should take a break from all the parties..”

“look at her eyes, they look dead.”

“she’s just a drug addicted psychopath. Hope she stops soon and gets some treatment.”

you were tired of all eyes on you. Biting the inside of your bottom lip, the tears started to accumulate in your eyes. Taking a big hit of the joint, feeling the burn but not feeling anything anymore. You knew there was only one way to stop getting so much attention.

Putting out the joint and heading into your apartment and opening up your laptop. You log into the device and search for flights to Barcelona. Little did you know, this small decision would change your life forever.

you didn’t tell anyone about this. You packed your bags, reset your phone, and went to bed. The next morning you had ordered and uber. Covering your face with a hat, mask, and sunglasses. You didn’t want the spotlight anymore. It took a good 30 minutes to get to the nearest airport. You wonder if anyone will even care if you disappeared, stopped making music, stopped replying to texts, stopped calling, stopped everything.

you didn’t want to live the life you had anymore. what you once thought was a blessed now had transformed into a curse right in front of your eyes. Becoming something far more evil than you thought. You remember a little y/n looking up to famous singers, wanting what they wanted. Wanting the light, wanting the eyes, wanting what they had.

but now that you had finally grasped it after years of putting everything into it, it felt like a living hell. You look up from your lap, and you were at the airport. The driver looking back at you to let you know that you had arrived, taking out your wallet fast and tipping him 15 bucks, you scurried out the black SUV, grabbing your bags from the back and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

A new start. You walked into the front doors of the airport, not ready to start the tedious process just to get checked in. You sighed and headed straight for check in. You just wanted to get it done and over with, but unfortunately you were in america and going to another country. They needed to identify who you were.

“trip to barcelona? can i see a passport please?”

the blonde headed lady behind the counter asked, you handed her the passport and leaned in to whisper into her ear,

“you didn’t see me here.”

as you lifted the glasses and took down the mask, a serious look on your face. You could see her eyes light up as she saw the world’s most known singer standing in front of her. But she obliged to your words and wished you a good flight as she handed the passport back.

after the whole process was over, you sat in those uncomfortable waiting seats in your terminal. Tapping your finger on your already shaking leg. You didn’t have a plan for barcelona. Fuck. Do you go seek professional help like all the comments had said? Do you stop making music? Do you take the time to heal and finally find yourself? Your mind running at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You took a deep breath.

After a few hours of waiting they finally started calling for your flight. You couldn’t even feel nervous or excited, you were just so numb on the inside, dissociated from the world you stand on. time was flying by, one second you were waiting to be called, the next second you were in your seat, and in the blink of an eye…you were in barcelona.

Stepping off the plane, going through another tedious journey just to hit the streets of barcelona—and cry. You didn’t know what the fuck you were doing in that city. You had no house, barely enough money to hold you over for a few nights, because when you packed you thought it would be smart to only pack a little bit of your funds. Fuck. You had nothing and nobody.

Walking around the streets like a lost child, luckily for you, you knew spanish, most of it. Your mom’s side was hispanic. So from a young age she made it her duty to teach you. Thanks mom.

you manage to find a hotel, you walk in puffy eyed. Thank god for those glasses.

“do you have any available rooms?..”

you said silently, the poor lady who was working that night nodded. it looked like she needed a break more than you did. she asked for how many nights,

“uhm…just like…just a few nights.”

“im gonna need an exact number honey this hotel is going to be booked by fc barcelona soon. we need all the rooms we can take.”

you knew some stuff about football, when you were younger you would watch matches with your dad. You were even on your towns small team, hoping one day you could make it big. Other things got in the way of that.

“uhm..just 3 nights is good..”

“that’s better, that’ll be about 400. do you want room service?”

“no thank you.”

she nodded, as you handed her your card, she charged it and slid you your key. Now you were on your own. you had taken your sim card out your phone so nobody could contact you. But now you were staring to regret it. You sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You knew you had to take some time to reset, it started now.

||______________________||

a/n: plsplsplspls let me know if i should make a part 2, this was kinda just like a starting point, also inbox is very very VERY open for ideas ;-) also this is a little bit darker than what i usually write, but for what i have in mind it does get fluffier the more it goes on.

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐀

SFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : Y/N walks downstairs to see Chris in the kitchen filming his part for the upcoming video. Y/N notices how he was eating his favorite mini pizzas that he loved so much. She decides to join him and keep him company.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐈 𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. As I entered the kitchen, the sight of Chris filming his part for the upcoming video caught my attention. I couldn't help but notice that he was indulging in his favorite tiny pizzas, the ones he always seemed to enjoy so much.

“Hey,” I said as I approached Chris, my voice still a bit groggy, “Mind if I join you?”

Chris looked up with a grin, his mouth full of pizza. He nodded, signalling me to grab a seat beside him. I took a moment to observe him as I settled down next to him. His focus was still on filming, but there was a sense of relaxation on his face as he enjoyed his miniature pizzas.

“I see you're enjoying your mini pizzas,” I teased, picking up a tiny pizza myself.

“Yup!” he replied, his voice slightly muffled between bites. “Can't pass up on these when they're in front of me.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of us munching on the tiny pizzas. I glanced over at his phone. Curious, I asked, “How's the filming going?”

“Pretty good,” Chris answered, his expression turning a bit wistful. “I'm just really missing Matt and Nick right now, you know? It's not the same recording stuff without them.”

I nodded understandingly. “I get it,” I replied, “But hey, you know sooner or later, you guys will be back together. Just a few more days.”

With a smile, I reached up and gently ran my fingers through his messy hair. “You know I'm here with you through this, right? You're not alone,” I reassured him. “I may not be Matt or Nick, but hopefully, I can still keep you company a little bit.”

Chris's tense expression softened as he looked up at me. “I know,” he said quietly, “And I'm glad you're here with me.” With a small, grateful smile, he leaned back a bit, letting my hand continue its soothing motion through his hair.

I smiled warmly, my hand lightly massaging his head. “I'm glad I'm here with you, too. It's nice to spend some time together, just the two of us,” I said softly.

Chris closed his eyes, leaning into my touch and sighing contentedly. “Yeah,” he murmured, “It is nice.”

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the only sounds the occasional crunch of a pizza and the soft shuffling of my fingers through his hair.

Chris opened his eyes and looked at me, a soft, grateful smile on his face. “Thank you, baby,” he said, his voice gentle and sincere. “Really. I appreciate you being here for me.”

My hand paused in his hair as I met his gaze warmly. “Of course,” I replied, my voice filled with tenderness. “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world right now except here with you.”

As my hand trailed down his face, I let it settle back into my lap, my gaze meeting his once more. With surprising gentleness, Chris's own hand found its way to my face, his fingers lightly tracing my features.

He pulled me in for a kiss, his lips meeting mine in a tender moment filled with silent affection.

The kiss was gentle, his mouth moving against mine a slow, tender dance. I melted into the moment, my own fingers intertwining with his and holding his hand against my face.

Pulling away slightly, Chris rested his forehead against mine, his eyes still locked on mine.

We broke apart, my breath slightly ragged, and I managed a small laugh. “You taste like a mini pizza,” I teased, my voice a little breathless.

Chris chuckled, a coy grin appearing on his face. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his hand still tracing lazy circles on my cheek.

“Not at all,” I answered, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips. Pulling away, I stood up, making my way over to the counter and grabbing a napkin.

I couldn't help bursting into quiet giggles as I heard Chris speak. Turning around, I found him talking into his camera with a lighthearted grin on his face.

“Feeling bad, mini pizza; feeling happy, mini pizza... can't sleep, mini pizza; slept fine, mini pizza... going over to a friend's, mini pizza; friends come over here, mini pizza...” he repeated, his voice affectionate. “And most importantly,” he continued, “When I'm hungry, mini pizza.”

I chuckle as I heard Chris’s little mini pizza monologue to the camera. I walked towards him, the napkin in hand and a smile on my face.

“You really do love your mini pizzas, huh?” I teased, handing him the napkin.

Chris chuckled sheepishly, taking the napkin from me. “What can I say?” he replied with a shrug. “They're just so damn good.”

He used the napkin to wipe away some of the pizza crumbs from his face and hands. “I eat, breathe, and live this shit”

Chris took another bite, talking through a mouth full of pizza. “I know if Matt was here, he'd be like,” he began in an exaggerated mimicking of Matt's voice, “‘You chew so loud,’”

He then switched to a mock version of Nick's voice. “And then Nick would be like, ‘Let me have a bite!’” He threw his head back and let out a laugh, clearly amused by his own impressions.

I chuckled and shook my head, walking behind him and gently ruffling his hair. “Finish up your food,” I said, “And meet me upstairs in your room when you're done.”

“I will,” he replied, looking up at me with a small smile. Before I could step away, he grabbed my hip, pulling me closer. I stumbled a bit, letting out a laugh as he brought me down to his level for a quick peck on the lips.

I broke away reluctantly, shooting him a smirk before straightening up. “Don't take too long,” I teased, walking towards the stairway.

Chris chuckled lightly, watching as I ascended the stairs. “I won't,” he promised, his tone teasing.

He turned back to his food with a grin, eagerly resuming his mini pizza eating.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Ok. So Dani and Damian are around 23-26. You can decide. Fair warning this one’s pretty long

So while Dani was traveling the world, she meet Talia Al Ghul.

They became friends(?) and regularly meet up for coffee and tea and such (Dani is not part of the LOA) (Talia wanted to adopt her but she said no) (Dani knows of the LOA but not of Damian. In my mind a demon heir would be confidential information)

Damian leads the Wayne foundations (as well as the Martha and Thomas Wayne foundations) which involves lot of international travel. With his vigilantism and his job, Bruce forces him to put out applications for a secretary. He’s been moonlighting as the Vulture for a couple of years.

Dani, with her years of traveling in now fluent in multiple languages (one of her obsessions) and decided to attend collage in Star City, moving to Gotham after a degree in international business relations.

She applies at Wayne Enterprises for a job, and gets invited for coffee with Talia via coffee message.

Barbara Gordon intercepted the message and sends Damian and Tim to watch her meeting with a mystery person.

They are slightly confused as to Talia is meeting with a seemingly normal civilian. And thinks this that she must be working with the Leauge (no matter how pretty her laugh was)

Talia, who realizes that if Dani won’t allow her to become her daughter, then daughter-in-law is the next best thing.

He realizes how royally he fucked up when Bruce introduces him to his new secretary, Danielle Jane Masters-Fenton.

So now he’s working with a (presumed) LOA assassin, one who’s (probably) infiltrating the company to get to his family. And Talia is try to set them up for some reason.

However, no one believes him when he tells them of his theory. Not even Bruce, who did the actual interview. (He also thought that she would make a good match for Damian, and bonus points if the rest of the family thinks so as well)

Part of Dani’s jobs description is to accompany her boss on international trips, which can take anywhere from 3 days to a week. And it’s pretty difficult when your boss hates you for some reason but can’t fire you because of his dad. Even harder when you’re forced to become a antihero (Vapor) to clean gothams curses and ghost cults and have an odd relationship with the Vulture

There are so many shenanigans that can happen

- Dani and Damian going on a routine business trip and having it run late, plus with the time zones, they are exhausted and forget to book the hotel room. The take the last available room, which happens to have only one bed. Neither one cares.

- mass Arkham breakout, and Dani retunes to work with a fractured left wrist. She says she got injured in the breakout and when Damian goes to her because he’s concerned suspicious he asks her more about it. Dani panics and tells him it was alright because Vapor was there and saved her (she actually got into a brawl with sulker)

~Vulture immediately seeks out Vapor to find out which rouge Dani her and Dani figures out his identity because Damian was the only one she mentioned anything about Vapor to she panicked okay??

- another trip but Damian doesn’t speak the local language (Dani knows more) and the company’s daughter insults Damian to their face because she assumed neither of them spoke the Language. Dani ripped her a new one, and because of her outright hostility (which has never happen before) Damian doesn’t renew the contracts with the company and instead spends the rest of the trip trying to cheer up Dani’s mood.

- Danny. Sam and Tucker all visit her in Gotham and the everlasting trio all go to an animal rights protest that ends up with them in a brawl. Damian also ends up brawling on their side and the four of them get thrown in the same jail cell while they wait for someone to bail them out. Tim arrives for Damian at the same time Dani arrives for the trio. To spite them, Dani and Tim have a long conversation in front of their cell instead of letting them out. (The group approves of Damian)

- a ghost attacks Dani and Damian on their way to the airport, Dani whips out her ghost busting moves. Damian finally decides to admit to himself that he’s in love after watching her tackle a ghost to the ground and make him beg for mercy (technus should’ve known better that to pick a fighter against her. in Gotham. With her crush boss watching)

- Dani kills the Joker, and a member of Black Masks crew saw her, so Vulture was assigned to be her bodyguard of sorts

- Dani is planning an international gala for the Waynes and is very stressed out. So stressed out, that a week before the gala she realized she didn’t think to accommodate for any rouge attacks and spends the next 3 days in her office. Damian eventually drops her sleep deprived butt home.

- Dan visits Dani in her office

- wingman Jon

- International business meeting hosted at WE. Rouge attakd the meeting and Dani gets injured. Damian sees red

- Waynes go to a masked gala in Wisconsin, hosted by Vlad Masters. Dani and Damian share a dance (while wearing masks) and a ghost ruins the party

- M A K I N G O U T W H I L E D R U N K

- Damian figures out Dani’s identity simply because he realizes they laugh and smile the same

- “Danielle.”

“Yeah?”

“Your birthday is coming up, correct?”

“It is, what about it?”

“What would you like?”

“Damian, you don’t have to get me anything.”

“Tt. Ridiculous. What would you like?”

“Get me a (super rare sword from medieval times)” (she was joking)

“Consider it done.” (He was not)

Eventually Ra’s finds out about Dani and her connection to his grandsons and daughter and decides to kidnap her as blackmail.