#one thing to know about me is i always want things to be longer

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

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It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

Hiraya produced one energy sphere then another at ease. There is a smug written in her face. Janaya rolled his eyes towards Hiraya’s boasting attitude. Hiraya and Janaya are taught how to use energy magic by their father in the magic training room of their family home. Janaya is having trouble in making an energy ball.

“You’ll get it. You just need to try harder.” Said Kyle.

Janaya scowled and side eyes at Hiraya. “I am trying. I’m trying harder than anyone else. Do you know how humiliating it is to struggle with something everyone else can just do?”

“You are not, concentrate son.” Said Kyle, ignoring Janaya’s feelings. Janaya frowned. He saw how Nebula demonstrate herself in creating an energy ball (only because she has the power of the Royal Wand) and she did give tips to him. It is always concentration!

Janaya gritting his teeth out of anger. A burning rage inside in belly. He gather all the energy from his surrounding and the mana in his body as much he could. Especially his own anger, converting it into Noir Fuel Spirt. He finally made a energy ball. It is a blue colour that look exactly like a kill ball. Janaya lashes out, throwing it to the wall, sending it flying and disintegrating and splitting the target. Hiraya flinch, seeing another one of her brother’s angry outbursts. Next thing Hiraya and Kyle knew, they watch Janaya fall down to the floor. All Janaya know after he fell, are the the black dots form in his vision and soon he passed out.

“Janaya!” Said Kyle, letting out a gasp. He picks up his son and makes attempts to wake him up. He checks for concussion as well. Kyle realize that his son is not waking up as he check his pulse, still alive but slow due to exhaustion.

~~

Janaya lifts himself up from bed, he rubs his eyes in circle motions. He realizes he is in his room. Janaya see his mother, sitting on a chair, next to her son lying in bed.

“Mom?” Janaya asked. “What happened?” He said confused.

“Your dad says you have a hissy fit during magic practice again.” Janna explained. Janaya nodded.

“Did I unintentionally started a fire again?” He asked another question.

“No.” Janna replied with an answer, relieving Janaya of his anguished thoughts. He did not start fire, that means he is making good progress with his magic.

“After what happened, we can deny it no longer. Me and your father decided that he won’t be your instructor in energy magic. Since you are magically disable in this attribute.” Said Janna.

“But… I wants to be a master wizard likes dad…” he said, looking at his mom in pleading eyes and fear that he disappoints his dad.

Janna felt sympathetic towards her son. “You will be just like him Janaya, just not wielding energy magic.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

That was a back then when he was a child, Janaya watch from afar to see Second Summer Campers casting spells in The Arena of Camp Synonymous Island. In his time in Townsville, as a part of his magic journey, he had met many magic users. Some are super heroes. Some as civilians. Some as superheroes. He has seen some who have potential to be master wizards. A few who would become Sorcerer Supreme in Eugenia’s eyes.

“You okay Jan?”, Ethan asked.

“I confirm that I am fine with my emotions,” Janaya replied, maintaining his pace and volume and express openness and gratitude to not get caught up on something that bother him. “I appreciate you asking; thank you.”

Janaya out on a half smile, Ethan respond in silence, looking at Janaya’s half smile.

“Trying to get the cat to catch my tongue?” Said Ethan. “Nice try. I know that you are staring at the campers from afar. They won’t be catching up to us anytime soon. Our time right now is young. Don’t be so negative and hard on yourself.”

“……I don’t know what you are talking about.” Janaya lied.

Ethan Corduroy and Nebula Butterfly-Lucitor (mentioned) belong to @ej-cappy-universe

Eugenia Maximoff (mentioned), Hiraya B.C. Bloodworth-Thomason and Janaya A. Bloodworth-Thomason belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

"You'll get it. You just need to try harder."

"I am trying. I'm trying harder than anyone. Do you know how humiliating it is to struggle with something everyone else can just do?"

[luveline]

hi again!! i saw you mention wanting to write for prince!steve, and i also saw that you write with dialogue prompts so i present to you:

A: “I’ll take care of you.”

B: “It’s rotten work.”

A: “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

maybe the reader gets injured doing something for training, but it’s all up to you!! i’m sure we’ll love it regardless. kisses!!

thank you for requesting! —prince steve au. fem, 1.5k

Pain was familiar before you came to the palace. Small pains and big, all kinds of hurting, poverty-driven neglect leading to toothaches and back pain, twisted ankles walked on without choice, sore skin otherwise ignored. It didn’t matter if you got hurt as long as you lived. 

Not in a dramatic sense. It didn’t feel dramatic at the time, only miserable. You go to work with a migraine because you can’t afford not to. You walk home in the dark because the mag-trams are getting too expensive. You break your holo, so you make do without one. You pick your head up to keep looking both ways and you get everywhere you need to go because you need to work, to get paid, to eat, to work. 

That’s how it always was. So getting sick didn’t matter. An injury was temporary pain that your body would fix eventually, and if it didn’t, well, it’s cheaper to pull a tooth than pay to have it filled. 

You were used to your sorry life, and then you met Steve. Tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed Steve. Looking at him sometimes is enough to make your whole body a void for things you used to complain about; you wake up across from him in the big bed and forget you can feel pain at all, if only because he’s already awake, waiting for you to open your eyes before he rests his hand on your cheek. You met him and your soul-mark glowed with a lacy, almost feathered light, your wrist braceleted with white colour that soon faded to mellow blue. 

When you first meet your soulmate, the colours you make tend to shift. It takes time for your heart to decide if love is pink or orange or blue. It seems to have settled now —when Steve kisses you, your mark turns a Gaussian amber. When you kiss back, his mark turns light pink, like the lotus flowers he keeps in his private gardens. 

Right now, your mark hums an angry red. It’s typical in its colour, and it’s common. Most people’s marks turn red when they’re hurting. Yours is a crimson so dark it looks black in the dim lighting, and it throbs in time with your pain like a vexing metronome. You’ll never be able to put it from your mind if the mark continues to remind you. 

Steve is uncharacteristically quiet at your side. His own mark is lit in sympathy, mostly pink with his affection, but threaded in red like spider lily flowers blooming against his forearm. 

He shifts beside you. It’s been more than a month since your wedding, and yet he’s careful with you. Almost shy, though he can be brash and cocky. You know intimately how sweet Steve can be when he’s in love. 

It doesn’t make any sense. 

“How’s the pain now?” he asks, his eyebrows pulled together at their starts. 

“Not so bad.” 

“Could you rate it on a scale? If zero was no pain at all, and ten were enough to warrant another dose of white willow bark?” 

“What if I were at a five?” you ask. 

“A half dose and a good kiss?” 

You turn his way but flinch when it puts undue pressure on your leg, a stab of hot pain jumping from your fractured tibia to deep inside of your hips. Steve sees your wincing and presses your shoulder into the bed, leaning over you, a scolding he doesn’t give in the pinch of his eyebrows as he leans down to kiss you. It’s more caress than kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his lips barely touching yours before he rests his nose at your brow. “Can you stay still?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“Just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.” 

He lifts his head. Holds your cheek for longer than you can work out why, dotting another soft kiss to your nose before slinking out of bed to find you some white willow bark tincture. It’s a potent pain reliever. You shouldn’t have too much of it. If you were still living your past life, you’d be chewing on ginger skins trying to limp your way back into work. There’d be no time to stop. 

“Steve,” you say, watching him a small ways away at the table of your quarters. He turns to you. “I don’t really need anything else.” 

“You said it’s hurting?” Steve pipettes the tincture into a cup of water. “You said a five, and you lie. Knowing you, it’s closer to an eight, you just don’t want to tell me.” 

It might not be as extreme as an eight now, laying down and bandaged, but it hurts badly and a tincture would solve this. Still, you say, “It’s fine, I don’t need it.” 

He brings the glass regardless and puts it on the nightstand. Your bed is yards too big for one person, even two, but when Steve sits next to you he leaves no room between you. He looks down at you fondly. Brown hair like down feather falls against his forehead. 

“You’re going to be in pain for a long time.” He brings a hand to your cheek again. “It might sound tame, a plateau fracture, but that’s still a fracture. You know doctors say fracture when they mean broken, right? You broke your leg. It’s okay to want pain relief.” 

“I knew that. I didn’t know you knew it.” 

“Impolite.” He ducks down to look you in the eyes. You’re a little skewiff, straight to his sideways, but it gets a point across. He wants to kiss you while you’ve said something maddening. “I don’t see why you’re so insistent on pretending it hasn’t happened and that you’re fine. You got hurt, and you’ll stay hurt for a while. It might be weeks of bed and– and you need to be looked after. I don’t know why you’re so guilty about it.” 

“I’m not guilty,” you deny guilty, turning your face to lean into his hand, rather than continue to face his imploring gaze. “I just… I’m not used to this. Before, if something went wrong, I couldn’t just lay down and wait to get better, and I surely wouldn’t be laying here with doctors and servants and the ladies in waiting all trying to make sure– It’s like it’s not my fault, and that doesn’t make any sense. I don’t want to be a burden on everyone. More than I already am,” you add, a bitter mumble nearly lost to his palm. 

He makes a promise, then, turning your face to the light. “I’ll take care of you,” he says. 

“It’s rotten work.” 

Steve shakes his head gently. “Not to me. Not if it’s you.” 

You press your tongue to your teeth, worried you’ll say something you’ll regret. You don’t want him to go. You want him to mean exactly what he says, to stay here and take care of you, and to enjoy doing it. Wouldn’t it be nice to be loved for love's sake? 

Steve shuffles inward and encourages your head into his lap, thrusting pillows aside to take up station against your headboard. He frames your face, upside down, before both hands begin to run down your arms. A hug, in a way, as he twists his face to kiss the skin beside your eye. You squint at the proximity. 

“You’re not a burden,” he says, hands climbing upwards now, warm and steady where they travel, “you’re my wife. My cherished wife, remember?” 

His tone is silk. 

“You… haven’t proved to be a wretched husband,” you confess. 

“I did try. But loving you has been easy. It makes husbandry a gift.” He laughs at his grandiose and gives you a kiss that’s more familiar by your ear, his pleading, searching kisses, the kind he likes to press to all your softest junctures. “I wish you could understand that we’re marked for a reason. We were always meant to be together, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to stand with me. I’m happy you’re here. I want to take care of you.” 

Not if it’s you, he’d said. 

You wonder if it might be okay to cry. He’s massaging your arms, still bent in half over you trying to kiss some belief in him into your forehead. 

“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs between chaste, silent kisses, “really. You don’t have to pretend things don’t hurt you anymore.” 

You feel strange, then, shivery and weak as you turn your face into his thigh. His hand slips behind your back to hold you.

“Can I convince you to drink this tincture now?” he asks, just above your ear. 

“I love you,” you mumble. 

He pauses his trailing hands. You squeeze your eyes closed, but he doesn’t pause for long enough to scare you. “I love you,” he says. “Since the day we met, I’ve loved you. I’ll take care of you.” 

He is easy to believe. 

[kiwriteswords]

Something To Be Thankful For

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: With Thanksgiving in the US next week, I could not help myself! Started writing this one last week and debated on posting, but here we are. Enjoy! Grateful for this community! (Also needed to post this before I move onto writing some Christmas content, lol!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: Thanksgiving, fluff, domestic moments, holiday traditions, family dynamics, slow burn, new relationship, found family, mentions of grief, mentions of wine/alcohol, and food TW.

Sypnosis: When you accept an unexpected Thanksgiving invitation from Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, a simple holiday dinner becomes something more. Through shared laughter, heartfelt moments, and the warmth of a home-cooked meal, you discover the beauty of connection and the quiet joy of being exactly where you belong.

You were shuffling papers into your go-bag when you heard a knock on the edge of your desk. Glancing up, you were greeted by Hotch’s warm smile, softer than the one he wore in the field but still undeniably him. It was a smile you’d only recently gotten used to—the kind of smile that reminded you things between the two of you were no longer strictly professional.

The bullpen was quieter than usual. Most of the team had already left for the extended Thanksgiving break. Morgan had been the first to bolt, teasing everyone about having a “real” meal with family, while Garcia had dragged Reid out the door, insisting he couldn’t spend the holiday with nothing but his books for company. Rossi had a feast he was looking forward to slaving over, and you could still hear Emily groan at having to see her mother. JJ, however, was looking forward to the domestic Thanksgiving she was hosting. Now, it was just you and Hotch left, lingering in the familiar silence of the BAU.

“You’re not headed out yet?” Aaron’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful, drawing your attention away from your bag. He stood near your desk, hands in his pockets, his tie slightly loosened from the day.

“Just tying up some loose ends,” you replied, zipping your bag shut and brushing a stray hair from your face. “You?”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting from your bag to you and then back again. His expression was softer than usual, but his shoulders still carried that ever-present weight. “Actually, I wanted to ask what your plans are for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, nothing special.” You shrugged, keeping your tone light and breezy. “My family’s out of state, so I’ll probably just stay in. Maybe I’ll cook something small and watch some cheesy holiday movies. You know, the usual.”

Aaron frowned slightly, the crease between his brows deepening, and you immediately regretted how casually you’d phrased it. His concern was unmistakable, and it made your stomach flip.

“You’re spending it alone?” he asked, his voice a touch lower, softer.

“Well, yeah,” you said lightly, trying to shrug it off. “I didn’t think traveling back for just a few days made sense. Plus, it’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

He didn’t respond right away, and his silence made you look up at him. There was something unreadable in his expression, a quiet thoughtfulness that always made you feel like he saw more than you ever intended to show. His lips pressed together briefly, and then his shoulders relaxed just a fraction. When he finally spoke, there was a quiet determination in his tone.

“Then join me and Jack.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Join us,” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice gentler this time. “It’ll just be the two of us. Jessica is with Haley’s family, and Sean… well, who knows where he is. There’s plenty of room at the table.”

“Oh, Aaron, I don’t want to intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He stepped closer still, and now his eyes held yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Jack would love to have you there. And so would I.”

Your throat tightened at his sincerity, and for a moment, you could only stare at him. This was Aaron Hotchner—stoic, composed, sometimes impossibly guarded. But now, he was standing in front of you, asking you to spend Thanksgiving with him and his son. It was more than an invitation—it felt like a gesture, an opening to something you hadn’t dared to hope for.

The two of you hadn’t discussed Thanksgiving before this. Your relationship was still new, so new that you’d intentionally avoided bringing up the holiday, not wanting to impose or create any kind of awkward expectation. But here he was, offering exactly what you hadn’t dared to ask for.

“You’re sure?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant.

“I’m very sure,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You shouldn’t spend the holiday alone. And honestly…” He paused, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “It wouldn’t feel right without you.”

Aaron could see the uncertainty flickering in your expression, but he also saw the moment it gave way to something warmer, something that made his chest tighten. He hadn’t planned to ask—not until he saw you standing there, zipping up your bag with a casual mention of spending the day alone. The thought of you sitting by yourself, piecing together a small meal, felt wrong in a way he couldn’t ignore.

You nodded, the weight of his sincerity breaking through your hesitation. “Okay. I’ll come.”

The relief that washed over his face was subtle but unmistakable, and his small smile made your chest feel impossibly light. “Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Sounds perfect.”

As the two of you walked to the elevator, silence filled the space, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You felt his presence next to you, steady and sure, and your mind raced with the implications of spending Thanksgiving with him and Jack. It was new territory, uncharted and a little daunting, but the thought of sitting at his table—laughing, sharing stories, carving turkey—filled you with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

Aaron glanced at you as you both stepped into the elevator, catching the faint trace of a smile on your lips. For him, the idea of having you there wasn’t just about avoiding loneliness; it was about inviting you into something that mattered to him. Jack needed to see that warmth, that joy again. And, quietly, so did he.

The morning of Thanksgiving arrived, and your kitchen looked like a crime scene—a deliciously fragrant, pumpkin-filled crime scene. Flour dusted the counter, a rolling pin was haphazardly balanced against a bowl, and the golden-brown crust of your homemade pumpkin pie was cooling on a rack, mocking you with its imperfect edges.

“This has to be perfect,” you muttered, frowning as you adjusted the spices in the filling for the third time. Despite your best efforts, doubt lingered like a stubborn stain. You didn’t want to bring just any dessert to Aaron and Jack’s Thanksgiving table; it had to be flawless.

But the pie wasn’t your only problem.

Your bedroom was a disaster zone. A few blouses were draped over the chair, rejected dresses lay in a heap on the bed, and a pair of black heels you’d pulled from the back of your closet sat mockingly on the floor. Every outfit you tried on felt wrong—too formal, too casual, or just not you.

After tossing yet another top onto the growing pile, you grabbed your phone and hit Aaron’s contact. The second you heard his warm, familiar voice on the other end, you started rambling.

“Hey, okay, so, uh, what’s the dress code for today? Like, should I wear a dress? Or maybe a nice top and jeans? Or should I do something fancier? I don’t want to overdo it, but I also don’t want to look like I didn’t try—oh God, what if I look like I’m trying too hard? Are we doing photos? Do I need to plan for that? Aaron—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, a soft laugh threading through his voice. “Take a breath.”

You paused, clutching the phone tightly as you exhaled. “Sorry. I’m just… overthinking.”

“I can tell,” he said, still chuckling. “But you don’t have to. Trust me.”

“How can I not overthink? It’s our first holiday together, and I don’t want to mess it up,” you admitted in a rush.

“You won’t,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “Honestly, you’re adorable when you get frazzled like this.”

Your cheeks heated at his words, and before you could protest, he added, “Jack’s still in his pajamas. And as for me… well, I’m not exactly pulling out a suit for dinner at home. Something comfortable is perfectly fine.”

“Wait—Jack’s still in his pajamas?” you asked, blinking in disbelief, looking at the clock on your nightstand.

“Yes,” Aaron said, clearly amused. “And he’ll probably stay in them until I convince him to change for dinner. So, whatever you’re comfortable in will be perfect. You don’t need to try for us.”

His words sank in, melting some of the tension in your chest. “Okay,” you said quietly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Now, how’s the pie coming along?”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon lingered in the air. “It’s… well, it’s not going to win any awards for presentation, but I think it’ll taste good.”

“That’s all that matters,” Aaron said. “We’re looking forward to it—and to seeing you.”

Your stomach fluttered at the warmth in his voice. “Me too,” you murmured, suddenly feeling a lot calmer.

“Good. I’ll be there soon to pick you up. Take your time finishing up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Aaron.”

After you hung up, you felt the lingering anxiety dissolve. You ditched the fancy outfit idea and settled on your favorite pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. Then, you went back to the pie, focusing on getting the filling just right while you waited for him to arrive.

When the familiar black SUV pulled into your driveway, you took a deep breath, balancing the still-warm pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag filled with carefully packed containers in the other. You barely had time to lock the door behind you before Jack jumped out of the car and bounded up to meet you, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi!” he chirped, his excitement palpable. He glanced at the pie in your hands. “Is that dessert?”

“It sure is,” you said, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. “And there’s more where that came from. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m always hungry,” Jack said with a dramatic sigh, making you laugh.

Aaron approached a moment later, his brows lifting in surprise as he took in the scene. You were balancing a picture-perfect pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag in the other, your face flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Pumpkin pie and—what’s in the bag?” he asked, his tone light with curiosity.

You straightened, holding the bag up with a sheepish smile. “Homemade stuffing. And a couple of bottles of wine.”

Aaron blinked, his lips curving into an amused smile. He had expected you to bring the pumpkin pie you raved about, knowing how thoughtful you were, but this was above and beyond. “You didn’t have to go all out.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” you replied, shrugging. “It felt weird to show up empty-handed.”

“And the wine?” he asked, his tone teasing as his gaze flicked to the bottles tucked in the side pocket of the bag.

“One red, one white,” you said, grinning. “You like red, I like white, and I’m not driving, so… why not?”

Aaron chuckled softly, shaking his head. You’d thought of everything. “Fair enough. Why not?”

Jack reached for the bag, eager to help, but Aaron gently intercepted it. “Let me carry that,” he said, taking the bag and pie from you. “You take it easy. We’ve got this.”

As he walked back to the car, his thoughts lingered on you. He’d always admired your attention to detail, but this? This was another level. It wasn’t just the food or the wine—it was the thoughtfulness behind it. You’d taken the time to think about what would make the day special, not just for him but for Jack, too. It tugged at something deep in him, quiet gratitude that he wasn’t facing this day alone anymore.

The drive back to Aaron and Jack’s apartment was quiet and peaceful, the kind of stillness that only came with holidays. The roads were nearly empty; the world seemingly paused for the day.

Jack filled the silence, animatedly telling you about how his dad had let him help with the turkey that morning.

“Well, I didn’t really touch the turkey,” Jack admitted, grinning. “But I got to pick the seasoning!”

From the driver’s seat, Aaron couldn’t help but smile. Jack was practically beaming, his excitement contagious. Aaron found himself glancing at you in the rearview mirror, the way your eyes lit up as you listened to Jack’s story.

“You’ve got a good sous chef there, Aaron,” you teased, glancing at him. He gave you one of those small, subtle smiles that you were quickly learning to adore.

The warmth of your voice settled something in him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading this day, how empty it had felt knowing Jessica was away and Sean was off doing who-knew-what. But now, with you in the car and Jack’s laughter filling the space, it felt… full. It felt right.

“Well,” Aaron said, his lips twitching into a faint smile, “he might be better at seasoning than I am.”

Jack let out a laugh, and you joined in, the sound weaving through the quiet hum of the car. Aaron’s chest tightened for a moment—not in discomfort, but in recognition. This was something he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for in a long time: the beginnings of a new kind of family, one that made the holidays feel like home again.

When you arrived at the apartment, Aaron carried your things while you shrugged off your coat. He set the bag down carefully and returned to you, his hands outstretched to take your coat. His gaze lingered a little longer, studying your face before trailing down to your outfit. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and warm. The sincerity behind it made your heart skip.

You glanced down at your outfit—a simple pair of jeans and a soft sweater—and flushed. “This? It’s nothing fancy.”

“I know,” he replied, his smile growing slightly. “That’s why I like it. You could be wearing sweats, and you’d still look great.”

Your chest fluttered at his words, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Aaron.”

He hung your coat with an easy familiarity, glancing back at you as if he wanted to say more but chose to keep it to himself. For a moment, the quiet in the room felt heavy with something unspoken, but then Jack broke the silence, bounding toward you with the same enthusiasm he’d shown when he first greeted you.

“Come on! We’re setting the table,” Jack said, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dining area.

“Lead the way,” you said with a laugh, letting him guide you.

Aaron stood by the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, watching the two of you go. Jack was chatting animatedly about napkin folding techniques he’d learned from his Aunt Jess, and you were smiling, nodding along with genuine interest. Aaron turned back to the kitchen, his chest tightening—not from stress, but from something softer, more hopeful.

The next half hour passed in a warm flurry of activity. While Aaron focused on the turkey, you and Jack worked together to set the table. Jack insisted on folding the napkins into what he called “turkey shapes,” even though they looked more like triangles, and you encouraged his efforts as if he were crafting masterpieces.

“You’re a natural,” you told him as he carefully adjusted a plate.

He grinned up at you, his pride clear. “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a playful wink, and Jack’s grin widened even more.

From the kitchen, Aaron glanced over at the two of you. His hands stilled on the turkey baster as he watched Jack eagerly showing you his handiwork, your laughter mixing with Jack’s excited chatter. The sight made something settle in him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time spreading through his chest.

He shifted his focus back to the turkey, his mind wandering to how easily you’d fit into their dynamic. It wasn’t forced, wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was natural, like you’d been part of their little family all along. He shook his head slightly, the faintest smile lingering on his lips as he resumed preparing dinner.

The apartment filled with the warm, savory aroma of roasting turkey, the clinking of plates as Jack adjusted the table settings, and the soft hum of conversation. Occasionally, you glanced toward the kitchen, where Aaron worked with quiet efficiency, a faint smile playing at the edges of his expression whenever he caught your eye.

Jack’s laughter echoed brightly, and Aaron chuckled softly in response, the sound grounding the space in warmth and comfort. It had been a long time since Thanksgiving had felt like more than just another day, but with you here, it felt different. It felt like something new, something he wanted to hold onto.

The table was set, the food was ready, and the apartment buzzed with a warmth that felt almost tangible. Jack had insisted on lighting the small candle centerpiece he’d picked out, proudly declaring it “fancy.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he adjusted the napkins for the third time, clearly taking his job very seriously.

Aaron carried the turkey to the table, the golden skin glistening perfectly, and Jack’s eyes widened in awe. “Whoa, Dad, it looks awesome!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Aaron said, his lips quirking into a small smile. His gaze flickered toward you for a moment, something softer lingering there before he gestured for everyone to take their seats.

As the three of you settled in, Jack’s excitement bubbled over. “Can we eat now? Please?”

Aaron shook his head, chuckling. “Not quite yet, Jack.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze warm as he looked between you and his son. “Before we start, I think it’s only right that we share what we’re grateful for.”

Jack groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “Dad…”

“Come on,” Aaron said with a faint smirk. “It’s tradition.”

Jack sighed dramatically, but you could tell he didn’t mind as much as he pretended. Aaron turned to you, a slight tilt of his head. “Would you like to go first?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but quickly smiled. “Sure.” You looked at Jack, then at Aaron, and for a moment, your words caught in your throat. “I guess… I’m grateful for this,” you said softly. “For being here, for both of you. This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of—a warm meal, good company, and moments that feel like home.”

Aaron’s expression softened, his gaze steady as he nodded. Jack beamed at you, clearly pleased by your answer.

“My turn!” Jack piped up. “I’m grateful for… um… pie!” He grinned mischievously before quickly adding, “And Dad. And you,” he said, looking at you shyly. “And for not having to eat Brussels sprouts this year.”

That earned a laugh from both you and Aaron, and Jack grinned, proud of himself. Aaron’s smile lingered as he turned his attention to Jack.

“Well, I’m grateful for you, Jack,” he said, his tone soft but steady. “And for this… for today. It’s been a while since Thanksgiving felt like Thanksgiving.”

His gaze shifted to you, and there was something unspoken in his eyes, a depth that made your breath catch. “I’m grateful for you,” he said simply. “For being here.”

The words were gentle but carried a weight that settled over the table like a warm blanket. Jack didn’t notice the brief pause that followed, busy trying to decide what part of the turkey to claim first, but you felt it—the quiet sincerity of what Aaron had said.

As the meal began, the conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the clinking of plates and utensils. The food was incredible, each dish perfectly cooked and seasoned. You found yourself marveling at Aaron’s skill in the kitchen.

“This is amazing,” you said between bites of turkey. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this together.”

“Dad’s a really good cook,” Jack said proudly. “He always lets me help.”

Aaron glanced at you, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks at the praise. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said quietly, his tone tinged with modesty.

The meal stretched on, each bite more delicious than the last, but it wasn’t just the food—it was the atmosphere. The apartment felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years. For Aaron, this was the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t spent alone with Jack since Haley passed. The ones before that—when he and Haley were divorced—had been different, fractured in a way he tried not to dwell on.

But tonight? Tonight was different. It wasn’t just the food or the laughter; it was the way you fit so effortlessly into this moment. It was the way Jack’s eyes lit up when you praised his napkin folding, the way your laugh softened the edges of his own grief, the way you leaned into this space like it was where you belonged.

Aaron leaned back slightly, watching you and Jack talk animatedly about the pie, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful but full. It had been years—years—since he’d felt this kind of warmth during a holiday. Not since Jack was a baby, not since he and Haley had been on the same page. This wasn’t just a good Thanksgiving. This was a piece of something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

For you, this moment was everything you’d dreamed of when you thought about falling in love someday. Not the grand gestures or big declarations, but this—the little moments. The laughter shared over a meal, the warmth of a family gathering, the simple joy of being wanted somewhere.

As the evening wore on, Jack began to nod off at the table, and Aaron scooped him up, promising him a slice of pie tomorrow. You helped clear the dishes, and the quiet rhythm of the task ground you both in the moment. Aaron glanced at you as you set the last plate in the sink, his expression soft.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“For being here,” he said simply, the weight of his gratitude clear in his voice.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you replied, “Thank you for having me.” And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like Thanksgiving was exactly what it was meant to be.

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[woozisguitar]

happy fuckin' birthday

pairing: jihoon x reader (afab)

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive towards the end so MDNI, bad bad ideas

word count: 1.2k

a/n: happy birthday to my girlfriend, husband, princess, the real love of my life, lee jihoon. idk what id do without you, my loverboy. everyday im so grateful you and me exist in the same timeline. please always be happier than me <3 (lowercase intended and not beta)

the fast bustling and the faint smell of coffee, which once felt intimidating, now feels like home. it’s been 8 months since you were last here, and god, you missed this. the overseas project took longer than anticipated, but none of that matters now that you’re back with the one you love. you slowly make your way to the floor where his studio is, trying to be as lowkey as possible. see, the thing is, you were supposed to arrive a week later, but the project wrapped up early, and there was no reason for you to stay away from your lover on his birthday. cue a last-minute birthday surprise which only you and his manager knew about.

when the elevator opened on his studio floor, you came face to face with none other than kwon soonyoung. soonyoung is a close friend, but you knew his hyperactivity would give away your plans in a second.

“yn, what are you—”

“shhhhhhhhhhh!” you shushed soonyoung, pulling him into the elevator and pressing the button to the top floor.

“dude, what the hell are you doing back so early?”

“jihoon’s birthday. the project wrapped up, and there was no reason for me to miss it,” you explained and saw a smile creeping up on your friend’s face.

“so, i’m guessing he doesn’t know?”

“nope. i planned this so last minute i’m not even sure if he’s free today.”

“he’s free. working as usual,” soonyoung rolled his eyes, “but i think i have an idea.”

“uh-oh.”

“so your great idea was to tell everyone except jihoon that i’m here? way to keep things lowkey, soonie,” you rolled your eyes, trying to figure out which idea would involve all 12 of jihoon’s members and his manager.

“nooo,” he dragged out the 'o', “the great idea is that we will distract him and sneak you into the studio where you can hide. then, once we leave, you can surprise him!”

“or give him a heart attack and an early death, which would be one hell of a birthday gift,” seungkwan commented, side-eyeing soonyoung.

“well, do you have a better idea?” seungkwan slowly shook his head no. “that’s what i thought. anyways, yn, trust me—he will like this.”

you gave his idea a second thought. well, it’s not like you had something better in mind anyway.

“god, this better work, soonyoung, or i’ll have your head.”

so the idea was indeed stupid.

the plan was that jihoon’s manager would first enter the studio to discuss next week’s schedule, and once he gave you a thumbs-up, the members would all file in and ‘discuss the latest album.’ 12 men filing in to talk at the same time about the same thing? totally not suspicious.

but somehow, this was the best bet you had. so now you were outside the universe factory with the members, waiting for jihoon’s manager to give a thumbs-up. after what felt like an eternity (it was 5 minutes), his manager emerged and gave a subtle thumbs-up.

this was truly starting to feel more and more stupid as the plan progressed.

“everyone ready?” whispered mingyu, and the others nodded in confirmation. slowly, they all started to file in, and you heard them greet jihoon. once all of them were inside, you slowly peeped in to see them form a subtle wall between jihoon and the back of the couch where you were planning to hide.

slowly, you crept in, crouching low and making your way toward the back of the couch. you heard the boys discuss concepts and styles they wanted to try out for the new album. from this angle, it looked like jihoon was undergoing an intervention, and you stifled a small giggle at the mental image. after making sure you were hidden properly behind the couch, you slowly peeked out from the side to see jihoon between jun’s and dino’s legs.

god, he looks so pretty, were your first thoughts. it had been 8 months since you last saw him in person, felt his touch, and kissed his lips. you wanted nothing more than for this plan to be over so you could kiss your boyfriend. you slid back into your hiding spot and texted soonyoung that you were in place. you heard his phone buzz and received a thumbs-up in response.

the members slowly started to wrap up their ‘discussion’ and leave the studio after making some kind of excuse. if jihoon noticed their weird behavior, he sure as hell didn’t comment on it. once all the members left, you slowly peeked out again to see jihoon turned to his computer with his headphones in place. you could hear the loud bass from his headphones and made a mental note to reprimand him about it later.

you crawled from your hiding spot toward jihoon’s chair. from your position, you saw seokmin, soonyoung, and seungkwan hiding behind a partially obstructive door, phones already recording. you quietly rose to your feet, making sure not to touch anything that could alert him to your presence. you leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

“happy birthday, baby.”

jihoon jumped from his chair, arms raised to fight whoever broke in. his sudden movement shook you off balance, and you grabbed his now discarded chair to stabilize yourself.

“calm down—it’s me!” you exclaimed, giggling at his confused face.

“y/n,” jihoon blinked, lowering his hands, “what..? i don’t...?”

you heard booseoksoon giggling outside and yelled at them to leave you two alone. once you heard the door click shut, you got closer to jihoon, pressing another kiss to his nose.

“yes, y/n, you dork.”

“you’re here.”

“mhm.”

“you’re actually here? i’m not, like, hallucinating or anything, right?” jihoon blinked, trying to figure out what was happening, making you giggle.

“yes, yes, i’m actually here.”

upon hearing this, jihoon grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, nuzzling his face into your neck. “what are you doing here? you’re supposed to be back next week.”

“well, you see,” you hugged him tighter, “i finished the project early and had a lovely guy waiting for me on the other side of the world. and i wanted to celebrate his birthday with him.”

“you did this all for me?” he breathed out.

“of course. who else would i do this for?”

jihoon shook his head, falling back into his chair and dragging you to straddle him.

“god, i fucking missed you,” he said, pulling you in for a heated kiss.

all the months of missing, yearning, and longing manifested in desperate kisses shared between the two of you. you slid your fingers into his hair while his found home in the curve of your waist, pulling you into him. jihoon slid his tongue into your mouth while you started to slowly grind yourself against him. he let out a moan, prompting you to keep grinding, feeling yourself heat at the core. jihoon’s moans grew louder as you felt him harden below you.

“wait,” you pulled back breathless, “not yet.”

“mhmm..?” jihoon made a confused sound at the lack of contact. his eyes were blown with desire, and his fingers held you close, almost as if he were worried you’d disappear.

“i want to give you your first birthday present,” you smirked mischievously, getting off his lap and kneeling in front of him.

“what are you...oh.”

jihoon leaned back, a sigh escaping his lips. “well, happy fucking birthday to me.”

and after a series of birthday ‘gifts,’ it was indeed a happy birthday.

a/n: heh sorry for teasing but I really do wish 100000/10 that jihoon gets the best birthday head he deserves one so bad (I volunteer as tribute-)

[whokilledsamara]

I love your Homicipher hc, they are so good! Would you be willing to do some N/ SFW for Mr. Chopped too? Like you did for some of the others? I understand if you don't want to or if it makes you uncomfortable, thank you anyway!

MR. CHOPPED N/SFW HCS

a hc list of Mr. Chopped x reader {an: SORRY GUYS IM POSTING MAINLY HCS RN,,, fics for me take a lot longer than usual so im just posting hcs to atleast get some reach.}

warnings! : smut, cunnilingus/blowjob, idk,,, cuckhold

{an: freaky shit,,,, like hes just a head so its kinda hard to fuck. did give him a section for IF he had a body.. MAINLY HIM GIVING HEAD,, i didnt rly know how to write this im sorry!! def will write more tho,,, im into him ngl}

SFW

what it would be like to be in a relationship with Mr. Chopped.

it would be relatively hard to be in a relationship with him for obvious reasons, though not impossible!

the thought of you makes him happy, and especially when you hold him.

he would have Mr. Silvair help most of the time. usually for the romantic aspects of things though.

while Mr. Silvair doesnt quite understand the relationship, he is glad to help.

being a talking head will obviously raise a few insecurities, so just reassure him that you indeed do love him! he gets his feelings hurt easily.

he absolutely loves when you play with his hair. if you put bows in it or decorate it, that will make it all the more special for him.

the first time he bit you when he was sleeping, had him crying for hours. he felt so bad that he harmed you in any way, and it took a while for him to "recover"

he loves kisses! he always shouts things like "Up, Up" or "Desire, Carry!" just so he can kiss you.

if you manage to get a hold of make up or something, he would absolutely love for you to do his makeup. {he likes to feel pretty}

he is a very sensitive boy, also a crybaby. how cuuuttteee...

if Mr. Silvair gives him a body, {ignore that one ending... we dont talk about it} then he wpuld be even more excited to see you.

the moment he gets a body would mean so many hugs and affection as a thank you for saving him.

he gets picked on a lot by the others so he usually tries his best to come to you.

NSFW

sex...?

sex is definitely a hard concept with him.

while yes, it is possible, just not in the way intended.

you could see him more as a pure object for your pleasure honestly, and he wants that.

whether you are amab or afab, he is perfect for the situation.

ive seen this referenced by another writer, but he would be like a "rose toy" or a "fleshlight" as people call it.

its a secret pleasure to watch you go at it with someone else. {ex: Mr. Silvair or someone.}

if he is gifted a body though, he definitely will pay you back for saving him in the first place.

personally he would be a soft and sensual lover with his new body, rarely going rough unless specifically asked to.

he is more of a giving top. definitely not dominant but is a top. he cares more about your pleasure than his. though, he does get all giddy when you wish to go down on his or something.

he is open to literally anything you want, he would have very few limitations on what he would do, but everything is open for discussion.

again, definitely either wants to watch you have sex with someone else, OR wants someone else to watch you and him go at it. {he would prefer Silvair.}

he definitely likes when you pull his hair or use him. will be submissive sometimes.

he is the type to cry during sex...

omfmg i love him sm

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[dreamscapeee222]

Jinx Headcannons

Jinx x reader

Masterlist

A/n: This doesn't spoil season 2 of Arcane but I could write something that will involve its act ^^

Jinx keeps you on your toes, never quite knowing what to expect, but always in the best way. One second, you’re caught up in her chaos, and the next, she’s throwing you a surprise adventure. She’ll grin, grab your hand, and tug you along, brushing her lips against your cheek as she says, “Let’s go cause some trouble.”

She’s the type to wrap you in a hug while she’s mid-explosion, laughing manically and pulling you closer, even if she’s covered in dirt or sparks. Her way of showing affection is loud, messy, and completely full of life, always with that “I’m so glad you’re mine” vibe underneath it all. Sometimes, she’ll press a quick, playful kiss on your forehead, leaving you laughing and breathless.

Beneath all the madness, Jinx is always there to make sure you’re okay, even if she doesn’t show it in the most conventional way. When you’re having a rough day, she’ll sneak up behind you, wrap her arms around your waist, and rest her chin on your shoulder, mumbling softly, “Stop worrying. I’ve got you.”

Jinx loves to tease you—playfully getting under your skin in the sweetest ways. She’ll smirk and tease, “What’s wrong, shy? Did I steal your heart or just make you blush?” before pulling you into a quick kiss that lingers for a moment longer than you'd expect, her fingers grazing your cheek as she pulls away.

Jinx is never one to sit still, and when it’s just the two of you, expect random, chaotic adventures—like late-night escapades or explosions just for fun. You can’t help but laugh as she pulls you into it, her arms circling your waist to keep you close, whispering, “You’re in this mess with me now.”

After a day of causing mayhem, Jinx will crawl up beside you, resting her head on your lap, her hair a bit wild but her eyes soft and tired. She’ll take your hand, bringing it to her cheek as she looks up at you, saying quietly, “You’re the only thing that keeps me from blowing everything up. Thanks for sticking around,” her voice tender in a way that makes your heart flutter.

Every once in a while, Jinx surprises you with the most random little things—a handmade necklace, a goofy drawing of the two of you, or even just a sudden kiss and an “I love you.” She’ll hand it over with a grin and, before you can react, pull you into a quick, warm hug, her arms lingering just a little longer than you expect.

Jinx doesn’t show her concern in the usual way. When you’re hurt or feeling low, she’ll be right there, pulling you close, her hands a little shakier than usual, trying to hold it together for you. If you’re feeling down, she might cup your face gently in her hands, her eyes serious as she says, “You mean everything to me.”

The way Jinx loves you isn’t always conventional. One minute, she’s blowing things up and laughing, and the next, she’s holding your hand, staring at you with a soft, rare smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone else to put up with my crazy,” she’ll say, pulling you close by the waist and giving you a quick, affectionate kiss on the lips.

Even after all the chaos, Jinx can’t help but flirt with you. She’ll walk up to you, throw her arms around your neck and whisper, “You know, you make chaos look way too cute,” before stealing a kiss, her hands lingering on the back of your neck as she pulls you even closer.

Jinx’s past is a heavy burden she often hides behind her chaos and manic energy, but she’s learned to lean on you for comfort. When the pain gets too overwhelming, she’ll find herself reaching out for you, desperate for the kind of stability you offer. She’ll bury her face in your chest, her voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know how to do this without you. You’re the only one who makes me feel like... maybe I can be more than this.” You’re the one who listens when she talks about her fears, the one who helps her work through her anger, and the one she trusts with the broken pieces of her heart.

Requests may be sent. Only SFW.

[webslingingslasher]

ohhhh j new fear unlocked for everyone

yk how being on your period and leaking in someone’s bed isn’t ideal? esp if they aren’t ur bf? screw the bed - it got on HIM and he’s not my bf. he’s a cuddler in his sleep and pulled me in and I just saw🤠🤠🤠 nightmare. I’m building up the courage to wake him up rn lol. it’s not that deep but this is pretty horrific bc it’s only my second time staying over and we are very much Not Dating

*cleaning out my drafts - this is an old one!

there have been several times in your life when you've said 'this is the worst thing to ever happen to me.' today takes the cake and you'll never have the urge to say those words again.

period blood? a nuisance to deal with.

period blood on your partner? humbling.

period blood on your hookup? downright mortifying and coma inducing.

it'll only get worse the longer you wait. counting to ten, you take a deep breath and gently shake peter awake. he whines and swats you away, you feel terrible that you're about to ruin his sleep.

'peter, i got my period and i leaked.'

peter sucks in air, the words are registering and he's blinking awake while looking you over. 'in my bed?' you nod timidly, feeling awful about it.

'and on you.' it's a defeated whisper, you turn to the side so you don't see his reaction. you feel the blankets lift up, a two second pause before peter settles back into bed.

'i don't have anything to plug you up so you gotta figure it out.' you stare down at his face, he's going back to sleep?

'did you hear me? i leaked.'

peter sighs, he's more upset that you woke him up than being doused in your monthly. 'yeah, like a quarter's worth. it's a dot, trouble. wrap it up and come back to bed.'

'but i got it on you.'

peter huffs before picking his head up and opening an eye to look at you. 'what do you want me to say? do you want me to be mad? you're the only girl in my bed so if you wanna stain the sheets that's on you.'

you stop a smile from forming, 'are you suggesting i did this to mark my territory?'

'it wouldn't surprise me. it also explains the leg.' he tugs his comforter up to his chin while letting sleep coat over him. 'are you cauterized yet?'

'yeah, i stashed some stuff here.' peter searches around for your hand under the blanket by little taps. 'good, cuddle with me.' you almost squeak when he drags you into his side, always impressed by his casual strength.

'are you sure -' you're halfway through your question when peter takes initiative and hitches your knee over his hips. 'i refuse to answer stupid questions before eight am.'

'i'm sorry i stained your sheets.'

peter's dimple pops out when he smiles. 'bloody nice reminder you were here.' you poke it, he peeks an eye open and acts like he's about to bite your finger. 'you're proud of that one?'

'o-h i'm positive.' you gag before hiding in his side and groaning. 'you're not allowed to make dad jokes before eight am.'

'oh yeah? well you're not allowed to bleed... just kidding, trouble. you can expel your moon cycle anywhere you want, what's mine is yours.'

'wow. you're so romantic.'

'only for you.'

he says it like a joke but you think peter would be a whole lot less cool if it was with anyone else. 'thank you for not making me feel bad. you're kind of the best.'

'i know.' you narrow your eyes at him, as if he can sense it, peter nudges his hand under your shirt to splay his hand across your lower back. his warm palm eases tension you weren't aware of yet. 'i was about to say don't get a big head, but your hand feels very nice so i'll refrain.'

'want me to rub your tummy?' you lean forward to press your nose against his cheek. 'say tummy again. it's cute.'

'no.' 

you whine at his refusal, 'i'm shedding my uterus, be nice to me.' peter smiles at your pout. 'tummy.' hiding your face in his neck you let out a quiet squeal. 'i like when you're cringy with me, it makes me feel like you like me.'

you can see how fast his mind is working, he's hesitating on what he's about to say. peter decides to throw you a bone, you're still embarrassed from giving him a wake up call.

'my baby is feeling so icky, isn't she? her tummy and back hurts and she is being so brave.' you nod softly, he's spot on.

'so icky.'

'so brave.'

'say tummy again.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'you're on thin ice, trouble.'

'just one more time. please?' you plead with him and follow it up with a yawn, his hold and heat is making you drowsy. 'if you tell anyone that i asked to rub your tummy or that i said tummy this many times, you'll never hear me say tummy again, deal?'

your eyes seal shut, his warmth is going nowhere. 'deal.' 

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Chapter 5

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5355 (Sorry! 🙈)

Warnings: 18+ only!!! arranged marriage, some tension, angst, perilous situation, smut

A/N: This is a long one, guys. But I didn't want to split it up again. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Running down the stairs Y/N saw Millie standing at the bottom who called after her, but she could not stop. She told her that she needed a minute and kept running out of the castle. She did not care about the looks from the others as she ran towards the staples. But she did not stop there.

Benny called after her, Sam too who stood next to him, but Y/N gave them no reaction. After she left the stable behind her, she just kept running. Up the next hill as far as her feet would take her and until the castle was no longer visible. Y/N first stopped again at a small group of trees where she could hide inside. She needed time to think and just wanted to be alone. At least for a little while.

Here, her tears could fall freely and her heart could break. Another crack breaking the smooth red surface. She just didn't know what to do anymore. Dean wasn't on her side. No, he preferred another woman. And of course she understood his anger, but it had been over two months now. He should slowly get used to it or at least try to understand her side. It wasn't easy for Y/N either.

The fact that she loved Dean didn't make it any easier. His distance and that cold shoulder hit her hard. It could be so easy, if only he saw her as more than the woman who had robbed him of his happiness. He didn't mention Helena anymore, but sometimes she had the feeling that he looked at her and saw her sister's face.

Maybe she should just walk away, pack her things and disappear. Unfortunately it wasn't that easy. She had no money of her own and there was no question of her taking Dean's money. And she couldn't and didn't want to go back to her father. She missed her clan and the life she was used to for so long, but she actually wanted to start over here with Dean. She loved him and that was the problem. Deep down, she just couldn't leave him. She was hopelessly lost.

A cool wind rushed through the branches and leaves, swirling the fabric of her dress. If only she had grabbed a coat. She found a moss-covered spot near the roots of a large tree, where she sat down and leaned her back against the trunk. She wasn't ready to go back yet.

Dean had just stared after Y/N before the anger caused him to sweep his desk empty with his arm and knock any objects onto the floor. He took a few deep breaths before took to his heels and ran after her. At the bottom of the stairs, Millie was standing exactly as he had left her before.

"Where is she?" he asked and Millie pointed a finger to the door.

"She went out."

So Dean made his way towards the entrance of his castle, but Millie hold him back.

"Dean, wait!" she lightly grabbed his arm to stop him. "Don't go after her. At least not right now."

"What?" his brows furrowed. "But I need to talk to her."

"I know her, Dean, believe me. She was so upset... give her some time to calm down. No matter what you said to her now, she would take it the wrong way."

"I... I don't like that. I should talk to her right now. There was a misunderstanding that needs to be cleared up."

And by that he meant the last sentence that slipped out of his mouth. He shouldn't have said that and he had to clarify that. But he also had to clarify other things. Y/N's words had made him think and he had realized that his behavior towards her simply wasn't fair. However, he had been staying away from her for different reasons than she probably assumed.

"What happened up there?" MIllie asked.

Just as Dean was about to tell him about the package, the door opened and Benny and Sam walked in. So the two men were also brought up to date and then Dean expressed Y/N's suspicion that it was Cassie. Sam and Benny exchanged a look that didn't go unnoticed by Dean and Millie looked down so as not to reveal that she knew about this assumption.

"What? You already knew about it?" he asked incredulously.

"Dean..." Sam started. "Cassie always wanted to marry you."

"So what? That's her motive? She knew that I was going to marry someone else."

"Yeah, but she was not happy when she heared that Y/N is not the right woman." Benny said.

"I mean... you only need to look how she behaves infront of you." Sam pointed out.

"And how she behaves towards Y/N. She makes it pretty clear that she is not happy that Y/N is here."

Well, that were news to Dean. But on the other hand, he had been gone for a while. He had never noticed that Cassie avoided Y/N like that. No matter who he saw Y/N with, they all seemed to like her now and she seemed to get along with everyone. She fit the bill really well.

"Okay. This is not happening. Not under my watch." Dean said and made his way back up the stairs. "Call everyone into the dining hall!" He had to do something.

Fifteen minutes later all the clan members were gathered around the large table, at the head of which Dean stood, the package in his hand. A murmur went through the crowd as no one could really explain what the problem was. Dean looked around and saw Jo and Alex standing with Cassie. Benny was standing near the door and Sam was across the room from him. Millie had fought her way to Jo without Cassie or Alex noticing her.

"When I came back from my business trip today, I actually had the impression that everything was fine. But then Y/N found this in our bedroom." and with a thud he dropped the package onto the table after removing the lid.

The severed cat's head almost fell out of the box, causing shocked exclamations among those present.

"This is a threat that should go to Y/N. But this threat also goes to me and I cannot and will not accept that. Y/N is now my wife and I had the impression that you all received her well But apparently I was wrong."

An incomprehensible murmur now went through the crowd, accompanied by the underlying question of who could do such a thing. Dean observed the reactions of the different people, but couldn't notice anything unusual, not even with Cassie.

"So that's how it's going to go here now." Dean raised his voice a little so that everyone would really listen to him. "Whoever did it has the opportunity to own up to it and admit it now. However, if that person doesn't speak up and I find out who it was...then God have mercy on him."

It was slowly getting dark and the temperature had dropped noticeably, but Y/N still couldn't go back. She had seen Sam and Dean riding horses across the countryside, calling out to her. She could also hear Benny, who was probably looking for her somewhere near the stables. Still, she couldn't reveal herself.

If Dean confronted her now, she would probably pour her heart out to him. She had noticed one thing in the last few hours. Her nerves were pretty thin and she wouldn't be able to handle any further rejection of her confession. She still hadn't completely calmed down. So she would now wait until the men gave up their search for the day and then sneak into Arrow's stable.

It took a few hours until Y/N felt safe enough to head back. By now it was pitch black and the cold was now creeping into her bones. Even though she was probably no longer visible, she walked slowly and deliberately. Always keeping an eye on the castle and its surroundings while she ducked again and again.

A lantern was burning in the stable and the candle wouldn't last much longer. However, it still provided enough light for Y/N to find the right box. As soon as Arrow recognized her, he whinnied happily and raised and lowered his head. She immediately tried to calm him down so that he wouldn't give her position away. However, that took a few moments.

"Oh Arrow. What am I supposed to do?"

The horse pushed Y/N's head closer to him as soon as the young woman stood in the box with him. As if he understood her words and recognized that she was struggling inside. She hugged him back, enjoying the feeling of safety and familiarity in that moment.

"That came from the stable! I think it was Arrow!"

Suddenly she heard Benny's voice, which seemed to come from the castle. But he wasn't alone.

"I'll take a look!" Alex called back, seemingly closer.

Oh no, she didn't want to be discovered yet. But after looking around and not really finding a place to hide, Y/N went to the end of the box, sat on the floor and piled the hay up above her. She tried to hide under it as best she could and just hoped she wouldn't be noticed.

Then she heard footsteps coming towards her. She could still see a little through the pile of hay above her head and at some point she saw Alex's legs and how he was walking through the stable. He stopped briefly at Arrow, spoke a few words to him and then went out again.

"She is not here. Everything looks normal." Alex stated as he seemed to walk back to the castle.

Relief flooded through Y/N ​​and she was able to release the breath she had previously been holding. Quietly and carefully, she dug herself out of the hay again. The candle in the lantern barely gave off any light now. Arrow came over and sat down next to her, resting his head on her lap. Y/N also leaned into him a little.

"Just a little longer." She whispered while petting Arrow. "I'll just stay with you a little longer and then I'll go back."

Dean paced around the bedroom. It was already the middle of the night and Y/N still hadn't returned. A bad feeling slowly began to spread within him. After all, it was his fault that it had gotten this far. He had scared her away and made her feel like running away was the only solution. His absence and the silence with which he had punished her had been too much.

And yes, he now knew that he had unconsciously punished Y/N with his behavior. He hadn't married the woman he wanted and in a way Y/N was to blame. But that wasn't really why he had acted like that. Because now he also knew that there was an even more confusing reason for him. He stopped in front of the window and looked out into the cold, dark night.

Back then he had already imagined everything in his head. What the wedding with Helena would be like, their life afterwards here in his castle. What the next five years could have been like. The first child, then the second. For a long time these had just been fantasies for him, but after he got to know Helena, he could easily imagine that the fantasies could be true. He had really had feelings for the young woman.

But then the wedding night was over and in the next morning came disillusionment. He hadn't married Helena, but Y/N. That really threw him off track. And yet there were parallels between him and his wife. That's why he took her with him. And actually he had planned to just see how it goes. It was just the way it was now.

But the journey back to the castle alone had been a challenge. As soon as Y/N sat in front of him, his penis began to stir again. Her soft, round ass against his hips, the scent that wafted from her hair into his nose, had inevitably brought back the images of their night together.

And from then on, every night had been difficult for him. Every minute he had been alone with Y/N ​​he had had to pull himself together. So often his fingers had itched to hold her in his arms or even kiss her. But he wasn't sure if she would have wanted that. After all, she had married him out of necessity and not because she wanted to.

So he went on business trips. But the distance didn't make things any better. When he lay in bed at night and let his thoughts wander, he always saw Y/N in front of him. He thought of her, of the things she had told him and of their night together. She had really caught him off guard and made him long for her. How crazy was all that?

He couldn't stay in the room any longer. With his coat in hand, he made his way back downstairs. The castle lay still and quiet, peaceful, as if nothing had happened. He opened the door and stood on the stairs, his gaze turned back to the dark landscape. His wife was out there somewhere and he was just hoping she would come back so he could talk to her and explain himself. So he could finally do it right.

"Dean?"

Slightly startled, Dean turned to the voice and recognized Ellen, who was standing in front of the kitchen with a candle in her hand and looking at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked and came over to him.

"Y/N is still out there somewhere. She still hasn't come back." his gaze turned back.

"But she will come back eventually. She probably just needed time. After what you told me, Dean... you really made a mistake."

"I know!" he exclaimed angry at himself. "But I'm hoping it's not to late now."

Ellen didn't say anything else, but her heart ached a little for Dean. She was also worried about Y/N and hoped that she would show up again soon. She placed a warm hand on Dean's shoulder, showing him her silent support. After a few minutes, however, she broke the silence again.

"Has anyone come forward about the allegations yet?"

"No. And it looks like noone will either."

"She was really on edge last week. Whoever followed her had made her feel really uneasy."

"You also knew about it?" Dean asked surprised.

"Yes. She told me about it."

"Did she also tell you that she that she suspected Cassie?"

"No. But that does not surprise me." Dean looked at Ellen questioningly and she smiled a little. "Have you ever seen how she looks at you? She's jealous. And she's ignoring Y/N since the moment she came here. It would make sense."

With that Ellen was right, but he could hear a 'but' in her sentence. So he asked he to explain.

"when you called the meeting this afternoon and showed us what it was about, Jo overheard Cassie talking to Alex."

"And?" Dean now was eager to know.

"She wasn't as shocked as everyone else about the contents of the box, but she was probably still surprised. And then she said to Alex that she thought the act was good and that it was a shame that she hadn't thought of it herself."

"So she indirectly admitted that it wasn't her... And Jo believes her?"

"Yes. And I believe that too, by the way." now Dean looked surprised and Ellen explained her statement. "She once helped me in the kitchen and was supposed to pluck a chicken. She almost vomited. And the animal was already dead."

"So she couldn't have killed the cat." Dean mused.

"No. Not her. Unless she had an accomplice. But I believe Jo that it wasn't Cassie. My daughter has known her longer than I have."

That made sense in Dean's eyes. "But who was it then?"

"That's exactly the question, Dean. Who did it?"

Early the next morning Benny made his way to the stable. He hadn't been able to find any real peace either. So he wanted to check on Arrow. The sky slowly became brighter, making last night's frost glitter like stars. It had been the coldest night yet. He lit the lanterns and then ran the boxes. Everything seemed quiet, but when he glanced into Arrow's box, he had to do a double take.

There, right next to Arrow in the hay, lay Y/N and she was pretty pale. Benny walked straight towards her, which startled the horse, but it remained calm on the ground. Upon closer inspection, Benny saw that Y/N had sweat on her forehead and her lips were blue.

He didn't have to think about it for long. Benny lifted her out of the hay into his arms and made his way to the castle. She urgently needed to get somewhere warm and Dean needed to know about it too. He hadn't left the stable when Alex stood in front of him, looking quite frightened.

"Go call Dean. Tell him I found Y/N and that she needs help." Benny ordered, but Alex didn't seem to be able to move. "GO!"

Suddenly the young man came back to life and turned around to run back into the castle. Benny also hurried to get there while speaking quietly to the woman in his arms. He noticed how she was shaking and the cold radiating from her body worried him deeply.

He was just walking in the door when Dean appeared in front of him and took Y/N into his arms. But the two were not alone. Apparently Alex had woken up half the castle.

"Benny, ride off and bring the doctor here immediately! Don't take any detours and if he refuses, then tell him that money doesn't matter!" Dean called over his shoulder as he hurried up the stairs with Y/N.

Millie followed Dean straight up the stairs and opened the bedroom door for him when they reached the top. After they entered, Millie pulled back the covers so Dean could lay Y/N there and tuck her right back in.

"Millie, can you please get a few more blankets from the guest rooms? I'll light the fire in the meantime so that it gets warm in here."

"Of course." Milllie said and set off straight away.

After Millie disappeared from the room, Dean looked down at Y/N. Her face was so pale that her blue lips formed a shocking contrast. God, this was all his fault. Just because he once again spoke first before he could think about his words. So he did something useful and started the fire in the fireplace.

Still, it took over an hour for Benny to get back. Only he didn't have the doctor with him, but someone else. A thin man with dark skin sat on another horse. Not as dark as Cassie's skin, but different nonetheless. He wore a turban on his head.

“Doctor MacGregor wasn’t home. He was called to an emergency in Dundreggan last night. But his guest from India is also a doctor." Benny pointed to the man next to him and introduced him. "This is Mr. Gupta. He's an... ajurwedish doctor. Correct?"

"Yes." the man said with an strong accent. "And I'm here to help. If you're willing to let me."

For a moment Dean was skeptical, but then he remembered that every second counted. And so he gave the man his hand and explained the situation to him as they made their way up to Y/N. He saw the concerned and puzzled looks from some of the others they passed, but he ignored them.

Mr. Gupta examined Y/N thoroughly, explaining every step and his findings to Dean. They had already done the right thing by wrapping her up warm and heating the room well, but that wouldn't be enough.

"She is hypothermic. Her body temperature is already in the critical range. Under no circumstances should the room lose heat. At some point she will try to free herself from the blankets, but that must not happen either."

Meanwhile, Millie was back in the room and she and Dean took in all the information and agreed on care for Y/N in the next few days.

"In addition, I will prepare a decoction and a warming paste for her. If used regularly, her condition should improve in the next week. But it will take time."

But Dean didn't care. The main thing is that Y/N would feel better soon. He wouldn't lose her like this. That was out of the question.

Y/N felt weird. She felt hot and cold at the same time, her head was pounding and she was shaking. She noticed noises but couldn't identify them. In general, she didn't know whether she was dreaming or awake.

Whenever she tried to free herself from the sea of ​​blankets under which she felt buried and was sweating from the heat, Dean's face appeared above her, encouraging her to stay under the blankets.

Other times, when the cold made her shiver and she felt the blankets being pulled away, she tried to bury herself under them again. But even then Dean's face appeared, reassuring her that it wouldn't take long as he caressed her. But when he stopped, these parts of his body became really warm and drove away the cold.

And sometimes she had a terrible spicy taste in her mouth that made her thirsty. Then Millie was with her to help her drink. Or were those just dreams too? She simply couldn't tell the difference and so she always hoped that her consciousness would just slip back into the silent nothingness where she could no longer feel anything.

The next time Y/N woke up she felt different. More awake with a clearer mind. She was still cold, but she finally felt like herself again. And she realized that this wasn't a dream. She was really awake. With tired limbs, she moved slowly and moaned slightly.

"Y/N? Y/N!" She heard Dean's excited voice and searched for him with her eyes once she got used to the brightness.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" suddenly he was at her side, holding her hand.

"No, I... I'm fine. I'm just... a little tired and I'm still a little cold." She said quietly, wondering what even happened.

But it didn't take long for the memories to catch up with her again. She didn't go back the night after she escaped. She had fallen asleep at Arrow's side and had lain in the freezing stable all night. It had been her own fault.

She saw Dean take a deep breath and close his eyes briefly before speaking again. "Stay there. I'll call Millie and the doctor." and then he disappeared through the door.

Half an hour later, Dean made his way outside and walked over to Sam, who was chopping firewood. With a firm step he ran towards his brother, who looked at him worriedly after noticing him. Sam put down the axe.

"Dean? Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Yes, everything is fine." answered the older man, took the ax in his hand and began to boldly chop wood.

"Are you sure? Is something wrong with Y/N?" Sam probed.

"No." he swung the axe. "She woke up and was lucid again." again the ax thundered downwards. "She's doing much better than she has in the last few days." with the third blow the log was split.

But then Sam realized what was really going on with his brother. He had seen how the guilt had eaten away at Dean over the last few days. He had made huge accusations against himself, even if he hadn't admitted it. So Sam left him alone with the firewood, knowing that Dean would have to use it to release his pent-up emotions. But still the hope spread within him that this was finally the turning point.

An hour later, most of the firewood had been cut down and Dean was sweaty and exhausted. But he felt better. Now it was time to start all over again.

He made his way back into the castle when Mr. Gupta came out. Dean thanked him for his help and said goodbye to him with kind words. The doctor had made another decoction and prescribed Y/N two more days of bed rest in addition to a hot bath, but he was sure that she would recover completely. She just had to take it slowly and Dean would make sure of that.

When Dean came into the bedroom, it wasn't as warm as before and Y/N was still sitting in the hot tub. She was slightly startled when she saw Dean come in, but didn't say anything. That hit Dean a little, but he could also understand her behavior. After all, he was guilty of it himself and it was entirely up to him to change that.

He undressed and walked towards the tub. Y/N scooted forward to make room for him and once he was in the tub, she wanted to get out. But Dean stopped her and made her sit back down. He picked up the bar of soap that was lying on a small stool next to the tub and immediately recognized the scent. That's why Y/N always smelled so seductive.

By now the bar of soap was pretty thin and he made a mental note that he needed to bring her some again. After Dean had cleaned himself up, he leaned back in the tub and gently pulled Y/N along by the shoulders. She reacted a little stiffly at first, but quickly relaxed again and secretly enjoyed the feeling of finally being able to be so close to Dean again.

When the water slowly got cold, they got out of the tub again. Dean first so he could grab a towel for Y/N. He held it out to her openly after Y/N also had both feet on dry land and wrapped it around his shoulders. Suddenly they were so close. Body to body, face to face that Dean cleared his throat and had to take a few steps back so he didn't do anything rash.

"Dry yourself off and then go back to bed. I'll get you some real food." Dean said as he quickly got dressed and then disappeared from the room.

Later that evening, when Y/N was slowly making her way to dreamland again, Dean sat by the fire and looked over at the bed. Y/N lay there with her eyes closed, cheeks rosy, hair down and a relaxed expression on her face. And for the first time in days, Dean was able to breathe deeply.

After he had brought his wife and himself something to eat upstairs and they were sitting together, he remembered a situation that had happened in his childhood. On one of their trips when he and Sam were younger, his brother once fell into a frozen lake. Her father noticed immediately and didn't hesitate for a second to pull him out and Sam was quickly fine again.

Nevertheless, he had told Y/N about it and she seemed to just absorb his words. So he didn't stop talking. He told her about many things and she literally hung on his every word. Why hadn't he done this before? It was so easy to confide in her and even though he didn't like talking about himself in general, he felt comfortable with Y/N in doing so.

The tiredness slowly overcame him and so it didn't take long until Dean settled down in bed. Moving close to Y/N, he quickly fell asleep too.

But just a few hours later, Dean woke up with a start. He didn't know why, but his hand immediately searched the side of the bed next to him, expecting to feel Y/N. But her side was empty and already cold.

“Y/N?” he exclaimed, sitting up at the same time.

"I am here. I couldn't stay lying down anymore." She replied quietly with a smile and his eyes found her directly.

She was sitting by the fire, her hair falling over her shoulders and she had a book in her hand. But Dean couldn't take his eyes off of her. The orange glow of the flames painted her face and made her appear almost angelic. Dean's breath caught in his throat and he sank back onto the bed.

'God, she is so beautiful. Why didn't I notice this before?' he thought to himself.

After a moment he straightened up slightly and looked over at Y/N again.

“Will you please come back to bed?”

Y/N looked at him a little surprised, but then nodded. "Okay."

She put her book aside and came back to the bed. Dean had already lifted the blankets, implicitly inviting her to slide closer to him. Y/N was very happy to accept this offer. Once she was at his side, her head on his chest, he covered them both again.

"You really scared me." Dean said shortly afterwards into the comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Y/N replied quietly.

Dean looked down at Y/N. "Please don't just run away again. Not until I can talk to you."

Upon those words Y/N looked up at Dean. "I won't. I promise." and she meant it, because she wouldn't be able to go through this again.

They looked deeply into each other's eyes and suddenly it was as if time stood still. Dean couldn't hold back anymore. With a hand on her cheek, he leaned down to Y/N until his lips were on hers. He kissed her carefully at first, but Y/N didn't seem to mind the kiss. And as soon as Dean felt her tongue on his lower lip, he was done for.

He deepened the kiss and turned a little more towards Y/N, who was able to put her leg on his hip. His hand moved up her thigh until it came to rest on her ass.

She buried her hands in his hair and began to slowly rub herself against him. She moaned slightly into his mouth while his hand, which was on her butt, went back to wandering. The nightdress that Y/N was wearing had slipped onto her own hips. With his thigh he opened her legs a little more so that his already stiff cock could nestle against her warm center.

Dean could already feel how wet she was and he had to hold himself together not to just push into her. But when Y/N's hand landed on his ass shortly afterwards and she pushed him closer to her, he literally slid into her. So he turned her so that she was lying on her back and sank his last few inches into her.

They both groaned and Dean wasted no time. He moved slowly but forcefully inside her. He carried out each of his thrusts with passion as he uncovered Y/N's breasts and caressed them there with his mouth. He licked her nipples and bit them tenderly, making her moans grow louder.

At some point he picked up the pace a little and licked from her breasts over her collarbone to her neck. That bittersweet pressure built up inside Y/N again and she searched with her lips for Dean's, who was only too happy to kiss her back.

He felt Y/N start to throb around his cock and began to chase his own orgasm. Y/N moved with him, holding onto his shoulders and as she jumped over the edge, he followed her just seconds later. He poured himself deep and hard into her while Y/N enjoyed the aftershocks.

They both looked deeply into each other's eyes as their pulses slowly calmed down. But neither really wanted to let go of the other. So they lay there entangled in each other and fell asleep together again.

A/N: I told you that everything would get better again. Let's just hope it stays that way. 😶 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

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[ilyrafe]

𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕 ✧ 𝒅. 𝒔.

pairing: drew starkey x f!reader

warnings: miscarriage but its so fluffy yall :((

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this is so shitty y’all i’m sorry djfjdk

pls he looks so cute here

when you said you wanted him to enjoy the moment with his family, he thought it was strange, but he didn’t argue. you’ve always understood how close he is to his family, and this moment in his career is important, you want him to celebrate with his parents, siblings, and closest friends.

you’ve only been together for a short time, and you’re not close enough to his family to be at family gatherings, you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

“we can celebrate later, just you and me.” you said, sealing your promise with a kiss, before you left his apartment, three days ago.

drew found it strange, but he thought you were just giving him space, which he appreciated. after a lot of family celebration, he went to your place, ready to spend at least a whole weekend, which you loved. there’s so much to talk about.

when you think about it, you didn’t think this thing with drew would go as far as it has been, because his schedule is chaotic and so is yours. when you first met, he was about to go to morocco to shoot outer banks, but he kept texting, calling.

“i know this is kinda all over the place right now, but i wanna see where this is going. do you?”

“i do.”

and that was it. you knew then and there, with only three weeks of dating (online dating for the most part), that you were in love. he’s so sweet, and so silly, too. somehow, you trust him. after being let down so many times, he’s made you feel safe from day one.

you’re not scared to tell him.

you’re on your bed, just waiting for him to get out of the shower. you’re barely paying attention to the tv, you’re just mindlessly scrolling through reels on your instagram, just waiting.

he comes out, shirtless, with damp hair and wearing the sluttiest thing a man can wear - black boxers that fit him just right. he’s such a beautiful man.

“d’you wanna take a picture?” he jokes when he catches you staring.

“you do it on purpose, don’t you?”

“of course i do.”

he gets under the covers and immediately latches onto you, resting his head on your chest. all he really wants is to feel you near him. it turns out, he wanted you with his family. he wanted you there, he wanted to properly introduce you to his loved ones, but maybe you’re not ready and he’ll give you all the time you need.

“i’ve missed you so much,” he says, his voice muffled by your skin.

you smell like french vanilla, and he loves that scent on you. he delights himself in your touch, when your nails lightly scratch his scalp and the nape of his neck.

“i’ve missed you, too. very much.”

he smiles against your skin and takes a long, deep breath, finally allowing his body to relax.

“um… so, i was kind of wanting to talk to you.” you say, trying to sound calm. well, you are calm, but you are also just a tad nervous.

he sits up, no longer relaxed.

“what is it?”

you sigh, look down and extend your hands, as a silent request for his. drew understands and places his hands on yours. your face is serene, but he can tell something is wrong.

“babe, tell me. i knew something was wrong, you were too distant these last couple of weeks.”

you chuckle - you can’t hide anything from this man.

“i’m gonna preface it by saying that i am okay, i am fine, but something did happen, and i’ve debated whether or not i should tell you, and i thought that you deserve to know.”

“you’re scaring me.”

“no, please, it’s… it’s okay. just let me say it all first and then you can speak, okay?” drew doesn’t respond, but you take his silence as a nod. “so, a few weeks ago, i was taking a shower and felt a weird abdominal pain, and then there was blood. i wasn’t on my period, so i got a bit scared and went to the hospital. i had a few tests done and found out… um…” you trail off, because this is surprisingly hard to talk about. he lightly squeezes your hands, encouraging you to keep going. “i had a miscarriage.”

oh.

wait.

what?

“a miscarriage?”

“i didn’t know. the doctor explained that it was common for women to have a miscarriage before even knowing they were pregnant.”

drew is quiet, absorbing the whole information. you were pregnant, and didn’t even know it. you had a miscarriage and he wasn’t there for you.

“why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve taken the first flight back to be here with you.”

“i know you would, that’s why i didn’t.” you explain, kissing the back of his hand right after. “also, i needed to figure it out by myself first. i was shocked to learn through a miscarriage that i was pregnant. it was a lot to process.”

“i can’t even imagine. but… how are you now?”

“i’m okay, i promise. i have one last appointment next week.”

“i’ll go with you.”

“okay. that’d be great, actually.”

he sighs, a bit relieved. at least you’re okay.

“i thought you should know because, well, i was pregnant. and if nothing had happened, i would still be pregnant, and i know it’s early, we haven’t talked about these things and i’m not pressuring you to do or say anything, but i still wanted you to know. felt really wrong to keep this from you.”

“no, you did the right thing.” he says, kissing the back of your hand. “i’m just sorry you went through all of this alone.”

“it’s okay, though. i wanted you to be the first person to know. and maybe the only one. i don’t think we should tell anyone else about this. like, it’d be just… pointless.”

“right. but, uh, if you do want to talk about kids, we can.”

“oh?”

“i mean… i’ve thought about it.” he admits. “i’m the eldest of the family, my mom has already started asking me for grandbabies, she says liliana needs a cousin.” you giggle. “but at the same time, the life i live today wouldn’t be possible with a kid, if i’m honest. i barely have time to sleep, let alone raise a child, and if i’m meant to have kids, i want to be there.”

“when i would think about children, i thought about pregnancy and how i needed to avoid it like the plague during my teenage years,” you laugh. “even when some of my friends got pregnant, i never really saw myself in their position, you know? i guess it wasn’t a priority for me, and still isn’t, but… i’m not ruling it out.”

“i’m not either.”

“so… there’s that.” you shrug, relieved that it all went well. “thank you for listening, i was a bit nervous.”

he nods, completely enchanted by you. he wishes he could navigate difficult topics the way you do. so natural, so easy. you seem to have your shit together and he’s so jealous of that.

“you can always tell me anything.”

“i know.”

“if something like this happens again, tell me. i don’t want you to go through anything bad alone ever again, okay?”

you nod, letting him hug you. oh, you love him.

“we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it and other stuff, too.”

i love feedback! let me know what you think!

[finniestoncrane]

OH BOY! How about Office Eddie nsfw headcanons? I love that dweeb at the office with a dark streak and honestly just want anything about him 💚

Dano!Riddler x Fem!Reader Headcanons oooooooooh yeah!! i've started writing a little outline for something like this but longer!! this is a good excuse to test some things out and see what works >:3c 🐀💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: voyeurism, pervert eddie, peeping tom, spying, non-consensual stuff, masturbation, unintentional cum swallowing

listen, employment in a nice office isn't all that common in gotham, and you're lucky you're not behind a bar serving sleazy wannabe rogues or hustling for what little money you can get, so you're willing to put up with your shy and quiet and kinda dweeby co-worker

but that's only because you have no idea about all the weird stuff he's up to...

eddie is smitten immediately by you, but he doesn't speak to you at all for the first two weeks you're sharing an office with him

it makes you a little uncomfortable, but he slowly warms up and offers you a hello and a goodbye

when he starts talking to you a bit more, it's about quite dark and deep subjects

it's almost like he's trying to guage your response to decide if you're a good person

or one of the people he goes on about, the undeserving masses

he's nice enough though, and you find that he's very helpful and willing to guide you with the tasks

and you quickly notice that he's far smarter than you, and is willing to hold himself accountable for your training

this seemingly kind gesture isn't selfless, however, it's actually his way of getting closer to you

and to have you depending on him for your job

it's not something you notice at first, if at all, but edward always offers to look your work over before passing it on to the bosses

he's changing it without you knowing though, making sure there are little mistakes that have you reprimanded

eddie delivers that bad news of course, and offers to show you how to fix your errors

you're so grateful that you hug him, or compliment him, and so he can hardly stop doing it

besides, the stupider you feel, the more you'll have to rely on him, and the more you'll view him as smart and wonderful

and in order to keep you thinking that, he'll criticise you sometimes

nothing too mean, not too obvious

but enough that he can see your pupils widening and your skin flushing when he does compliment you

"don't worry, i won't tell the bosses"

gosh, you owe him so much... maybe he'll cash in the favours someday

eddie has the keys to the office and he unlocks it every morning, since he's always there a lot earlier than you

you never question why, but it's so he can set things up

you wouldn't believe how many cameras are hidden in the little space you share

under the desk, in the toilet, in the stationary cupboard

and the work laptop he offered to set up for you?

the webcam is hacked, so he can watch you at home

because at a certain point, he can't stand not to be around you or to know what you're up to when you clock out for the day

and that includes when you leave the room to go to the toilet

he had to drill a hole in the wall of the cupboard between the office and the bathroom, just so he can keep an eye on you

and he finds his behaviour escalating, like an experiment to see how far he can go

it starts with him touching himself under his desk, rubbing his hands over his erection and trying to keep quiet

rubbing against you in the elevator, placing his hands on your shoulders as he stands behind you, staring down your blouse

asking you to reach up high or down low to watch the way your clothes move to expose you

messing with the ac, watching you sweat when it's too hot, watching your nipples harden when it's too cold

then he starts messing with the cables under his desk a lot, something with the wiring you don't understand

but it's an excuse to stare at your legs, trying to get a peek up your skirt

and then before you know it, your sweet coworker is masturbating into your coffee creamer

waiting to see if you can taste the difference, to see if you recognise him on your tongue

[sturnina]

Rule number one

Dealer!Chris x Fem!reader

— tags;; drug use, a lot of curse words, no use of y/n, arguments, angst

— wc;; 1.7k

— author‘s note;; my take on dealer!chris since I find it concerning that people think it‘s a good idea for him to be a druggie, hope you enjoy <3

Rule number one is clear. You are aware of it, Chris is aware of it, everyone knows. The dealer does not take their own stuff. Because what happens then? It goes down way too fast. It is too dangerous.

Everyone knows. With an almost infinite supply of more, always more, it is a risk you cannot take.

And yet, you’re here. Standing in front of Chris, with a deep and dark pit in your stomach. Fuck. His eyes are clearly dilated, and his heart is racing—you can feel it through his shirt when you press your hand against his chest. He mutters something incoherent, a smile dripping from his lips.

“What was it?” you mumble, more to yourself. At least you’re alone with him, away from his brothers or customers. “What did you take?” you ask again, louder this time while gripping his chin and forcing him to look at you.

No. Wrong approach. Violence doesn’t help. But fuck, you need to know what it was.

“Was it K? Ketamine? Chris, did you take Ketamine?” you ask, slowly rubbing his shoulders. Oh, please let it be Ketamine.

He laughs and launches forward, embracing you tightly. “Shush Ma, you’re making me all worried,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “It’s alright. It will be alright, trust me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens while the machinery in your mind runs at full speed. Racing heartbeat. Emotional closeness. Dizziness maybe? From the way he is swaying, you can tell he is more than a little lightheaded. **

“What do you feel?” you ask him, pulling away a little to look at him. “How are you feeling? Are you disoriented? Drowsy?”

Chris shakes his head, sighing deeply. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters, his voice getting a slight slurred edge.

“Do you have a headache? Or an increased appetite?”

“No?” His voice is disinterested—he clearly could not care less. Unfortunately, this is all you care about at the moment. Increased body temperature, sweating, slurred speech…

“Chris, did you take MDMA?”

“Mmh…” he says, pulling you close again and peppering kisses to your head. “No, it was a longer name…”

“Ecstasy, Chris.” A slight undertone of desperation lies in your voice. How does he not remember the simplest things? “MDMA is Ecstasy. Did you take it or not?”

“Why does it matter?” he asks, pulling away to look at you. His movements are unpredictable and confused—clearly, he does not see the way you do right now. Even if just through his energy. “Come on, let’s go back inside and have fun. Dance with me, pretty girl, yeah?”

He grabs your hands, but you refuse. “You can’t go back in there,” you say sternly.

“But the party isn’t over,” he complains. “I still gotta dance… and deal.”

“You can’t. Deal, I mean.” A lump forms in your throat at the confused look he shoots at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What? Sure I can! Look, I still have-” The second he pulls out a small bottle of pills, you snatch it out of his hand. And you were right—it’s X, MDMA, clarity, whatever you want to call it.

“Chris you have to stop dealing.”

“I know you’re always worried about me, Ma,” he says with a sloppy grin. “But you know I have everything under control. No one’s going to get too dangerous.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you sigh, stepping closer. “Chris, you have to stop dealing. You broke rule number one. You have a practically infinite supply of drugs, and you just started taking them. What do you think is happening now?”

He frowns, clearly having difficulties concentrating. Fuck, how long does Ecstasy last? You go through your memory, trying to find anything about it. From one up to… was it five? Six hours? Fuck.

“We’re going,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room you searched for shelter from the party.

The second you step outside, into the main area, the music clogs up your ears. Smoke burns in your lungs, mixed with the smells of alcohol and sweat. You’ve never been a fan of parties like this, but you came with Chris more and more often, wanting to look out for him—even though you wouldn’t be able to do anything in an extreme case.

But today, you’re infinitely grateful for having come with him. Who else would force him to go home and not take another pill? His brothers don’t even know what’s going on behind the scenes, he’s taken care of that.

Back at your car, you force him into the passenger seat. Now looking at him, restlessly playing with the decoration on your glovebox, you’re almost relieved he did it. Just because it means he has to stop dealing. As soon as he’s sober, he’ll realise that too.

After getting into the driver’s seat, you lock the doors and reach out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” he asks, pulling out his iPhone.

“Not that one. The burner one.”

Frowning deeply, he crosses his arms. “No.”

“Yes. Chris, do it.”

“No way. That’s the only contact I have with customers and the supplier,” he protests.

“Exactly. Hand it over, I’m not asking you again.” Your fingers move twice in your direction, a sign everyone knows. Come on, you think, don’t make this more complicated.

“A’ight,” he mutters, pulling it out of his back pocket and going back to fiddling with something he found in your car. You couldn’t care less what it is.

“Good,” you mutter, quickly chucking the phone into the backseat from where you’ll pick it up later. For now, you need to get Chris home.

The drive back is silent, except for when he occasionally starts humming a melody and then abruptly stops, grinding his teeth.

“Don’t do that,” you mutter, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he replies, staring ahead like a pouty kid. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, a wave of anger bubbling up in your chest.

How could he be so careless? How could he possibly have thought that taking drugs as a goddamn drug dealer is okay? That it works? He knows the dangers of every drug. He’s seen people get completely wasted, slowly destroying their lives and the ones of the people around them.

Why would he do this to you? To his brothers? His friends and family?

Tears are burning in your eyes and you blink rapidly to focus your gaze on the street.

“Ma? ‘re you crying?” Chris asks. His voice is softer but clearly slurred now. The drug seems to be kicking in.

You open your mouth to say something, but not a single sound escapes your lips.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers.

“Why would you do that?” you finally ask. “You know drugs. You know what they do. You know they destroy lives. Fuck, Chris, what’s going on? Why did you take it?”

The car is silent, and nervosity settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Chris…?” you ask again. “Why did you take it?”

“I js wanted to try,” he mumbles. It’s clearly not the only answer, but now is not the time to figure out what exactly led him to be so stupid.

After stopping the car in front of your house—you won’t let Nick and Matt see him in this state—, you force Chris outside, into the cool air. He doesn’t react, even as you start shivering. You quickly fetch the burner phone from the backseat and lead Chris inside, pushing him through the front door and to the couch. He seems restless and refuses to sit down, so you let him wander around.

While he’s still in his drug-induced haze, you sit down at the kitchen island and open the flip phone. The first number is his suppliers’, you know that, saved simply as G. It rings only once before he picks it up.

“You run out this quickly?” he asks. No greeting, no nothing.

“No,” you reply. The tension is palpable, even through the phone.

“Who are you?” G asks cautiously.

“You will not supply C anymore,” you say, careful not to use Chris’s name. “Do you understand me?”

“Tell me who you are and I’ll consider,” he repeats.

“That’s none of your business. If you sell to Chris-” Fuck, fuck fuck. “If you sell to him again, I will find out and send the police after you.”

The guy chuckles. “Easy. I’m sure we can talk about this. You his girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand over your face.

“You worried about him or something?”

“Obviously,” you scoff. “I don’t want him to become an addict. That’s normal, I fear.”

“He wouldn’t. I’ve been supplying to him for a while, he does it for the money, not the drugs,” G says, apparently unimpressed. “Just stay out of his business, yeah? This is no place for little girls.”

“You listen to me, you little fuck,” you hiss, jumping up from the chair. “I know who you are and from where you supply. I know the faces of all the little dealers around here, and they’re all connected to you. I know what parties you go to, and what people you know. I’ve seen you. And I will get you if you deal with my boyfriend again. He took Ecstasy today. And trust me, I know what happens next. I’ve seen it happen. So if one of us ever hears from you again, you will be caught, I promise.”

A stunned silence fills the phone. The only sounds you hear is the clock on the kitchen wall ticking… and heavy breathing behind you.

You whip your head around. Chris stares at you with confused eyes. He reaches out for the phone, but his movements are too uncoordinated, and you dodge his hand.

“Is that G?” he asks, slurring his words more than before. “Why would you- what are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t go down that path,” you say sternly.

Since you have no more to say to G, and you don’t care to hear his answer, you hang up the phone and guide Chris upstairs, leaving the burner phone on the kitchen counter.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But ‘m not tired,” he protests, still energised from the Ecstasy.

This is going to be a long night.

masterlist

[megismyname]

I've been curious why you haven't been doing your 'lives' lately, and really kinda wanting them. The few that you had, brought me a sense of comfort. But tonight, I ventured onto another person's live, and saw that they were having to constantly dodge comments from trolls.

I don't know if everyone feels this way, but I feel we are in a good place right now. We have been given beautiful, chess playing, crumbs recently from Nicola and her 'Team'. Even with the minor setbacks, everything is still good.

So just want to say that I get why you haven't been doing your lives, is because you don't want to let the negative spoil the positive message we've been given.

Hi there!

Short answer: I've been having a phase of being "over" Tiktok.

Longer answer: I am not a person who holds their tongue very well. I speak my mind and I tell people what I think about them when they are in the wrong. There are quite a few "larger" creators in this fandom who were taking it upon themselves to "educate" the fandom and become the moral police. Now to be fair, I am now blocked by most of them so my life is pretty blissful but it doesn't mean their toxic ramifications do not trickle down.

I find it very important to let you know that I am not afraid of trolls or toxic people and I will not cower to them. These are insecure people on the internet who are typically hiding behind the face of a celebrity - around here that's usually Nic - and that empowers them to speak the way they do. I guarantee if you met them on the street, they wouldn't say 75% of the stuff to your face.

Now I also need to say that I needed a break from TT lives because the fandom was exhausting me. This is not aimed at you Anon as I don't even know who you are. I am not a spiral-er because frankly there is nothing to spiral about. In the end, none of this affects my life personally. And as for those background characters, I don't give two craps about them. But there are a lot of you out there who just can't stop yourselves and my inbox was OVERFLOWING with people who needed their hands held and reassurance. After multiple N&J sightings in October, I just couldn't do it anymore. It is not my job to hold everyone's hand through this or tell you what to think and feel and I'm sorry if that offends anyone. We are all adults and we all need to find a way to manage our emotions and if you're going to break down over every little thing then you might need to step back and take a break.

That being said, I do plan on doing a live again one day soon as I know there are alot people who just want to be on there and laugh at silly shit and I'm always down for that. I just needed the fandom to break through a lot of this bullshit first.

[clumsybriar]

Simon “Ghost” Riley X GN! Reader — I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN! Reader — I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Notes: if you see any error please feel free to let me know! I made another Gender Neutral for Christmas! (If you see any mistakes with gender for the reader please let me know, I want to make sure I fix it so everyone can enjoy!)

Word count: 1340

Warnings: None!

————————————————————————————

Christmas season was upon you. The wait was no longer needed and the holiday season was in full throttle for many people. But for you it felt like the holidays just weren’t here yet, not without Simon.

It had been months since you last saw Simon. The countdown had been brutal — each day dragging on like a century, filled with empty space and a gnawing ache in your chest. The last words he’d said to you were promises, hollow at the time. But now, somehow, a beacon of hope. Especially for you.

“I’ll be back for Christmas, I swear on it.”

You hadn’t expected it to be easy. Life with Simon Riley had always been an unpredictable blend of intensity and distance, but there was something about it this time that just felt…different.

It could have stemmed from many different things, truly. Like there was something about the way he’d held you the night before he left, the unspoken words in his eyes as he kissed you goodbye at the airport.

Maybe it was just the fact that the holidays made everything feel more…amplified.

Like the empty chair at your dinner table, or the lonely flicker of Christmas lights on the tree.

But today just felt different. Like something magical was truly going to happen like some sort of Christmas miracle. Which is kinda cheesy to think about. But you couldn’t help it, you just felt a flicker of hope. Who would blame you for holding onto that flicker of hope.

People always said miracles happen on Christmas and you hoped just this once, it would happen. Even if it was on Christmas Eve.

You found yourself standing in front of your front door, staring at the snow falling softly outside. The world felt quiet, calm, and still. In your opinion it was too still. You glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last hour and you could just tell the hands in the clock seemed to mock you, ticking by at a pace that made the seconds feel like years.

Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when suddenly a car door slammed. It was then followed by the unmistakable sound of boots crunching through the snow. Something you had heard often when Simon was coming home in the winter. Though he wasn’t grumbling or complaining like he usually did.

You knew he hated winter, the cold wasn’t his favorite. He hated how it set deep into his bones, sometimes making him feel like he couldn’t warm up. He dealt with it though because deep down you knew he liked to have a white Christmas.

The crunching of snow got closer. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t help it but to step closer toward the door, breath catching in your throat. Your hand reached forward for the doorknob and when you opened it, there he was…

Simon.

His face was partially obscured by the shadow of his balaclava, but you’d recognize that broad frame and those piercing brown eyes anywhere. His tactical gear was gone, replaced by a simple black hoodie and faded jeans. His duffel bag hung over one shoulder, snowflakes settling on his mask and on his shoulders decorating him for the vast winter wonderland.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. He just stood there, looking at you like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to believe you were real. If you were being honest you felt the same and maybe wondered if you had too much eggnog in your system.

You were the first to move, closing the distance between you in an instant. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His scent, that familiar mix of sweat, leather, and something uniquely him, filled your senses.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Simon’s arms tightened around you, his usual stoicism giving way to something raw. “Had to make sure I did,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. “Couldn’t miss this… couldn’t miss you. Plus I’m pretty sure I promised you I’d be home.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand coming to rest against his jaw. His eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your gaze, something soft and vulnerable lingering there — a look you’d rarely seen from him.

“Been waiting for you,” you said, your thumb brushing over the area where his scar was located on his cheek, the mark you’d kissed so many times in the past. Now it was still covered in that balaclava he loved so much. “I thought I’d go crazy without you.”

He let out a breath, his hand coming up to cup your face gently. “I know. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, smiling despite the ache in your chest. “Don’t apologize, Simon. Just… just be here. Be with me.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world outside might have been freezing, but here, in this moment, it felt like time had stopped entirely — just the two of you, finally reunited after what felt like an eternity apart.

“You got the tree up,” Simon said, glancing over your shoulder at the twinkling lights and the ornaments hanging from the branches.

You smiled sheepishly. “I tried. Thought I’d have someone to help me decorate it, but…” you trailed off, your voice thick with unspoken words.

Simon’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Yeah, I get it.” He gently lifted his balaclava above his nose as you could see his red lips which were surely chapped due to the weather and his mask.

He leaned forward, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your lips. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else in the world fade away, leaving nothing but the feeling of him — your Simon — finally home. His lips were warm against yours, his touch grounding you in ways words could never explain.

When he pulled back, he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

You laughed softly, pulling him inside. “Merry Christmas, big guy. You almost missed it,” you teased, “but I guess you made it just in the nick of time.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He raised an eyebrow, a rare glimmer of mischief flashing in his eyes. “That’s all that matters.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him, then turned back to him, finally feeling like the holiday season had begun. Christmas had never meant much to you before — not without him. But now, with Simon standing here, his presence filling the room with something warmer than the heat from the fireplace, everything felt right.

You let go of his hand only for a moment to grab something from the kitchen. “I made dinner,” you said, glancing back over your shoulder. “You hungry? If I know you the answer is yes.”

Simon chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Maybe…yes.” He gave you a teasing look, one that made your heart flutter. “I am starving.”

“Figured as much, they don’t feed you enough do they?” you shot back with a grin. “They’re starving you, all my hard work of feeding you well has gone down the drain.”

Simon’s expression softened, and for a long moment, you both stood there, the weight of everything that had happened — the long deployments, the fears, the missed moments — evaporating in the warmth of the room. He was home with you.

“Yeah, look at me,” he teased, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite place, but it was good. “Skin and bone, not fluffy and cuddly.”

And as the night carried on, you and Simon settled together on the couch, the tree lights casting a soft glow over the room. The world outside seemed so far away, and for the first time in a long time, there was peace.

This Christmas, you had everything you needed. Simon, home where he belonged.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Reference Post - "It's complicated."

Transcript + Bonus below the cut:

Megan: You really didn’t want a wedding?

Asher: C’mon, mom, you know that’s never been important to me. Our plan was always to elope. Megan: You don’t feel like you rushed it? Asher: [laughs] No, are you kidding me? We’ve been together for seven years; I’d hardly call that rushing. Megan: I just mean it was all so spontaneous. You didn’t want to enjoy being engaged for a while first?

Asher: Why? So you could spend the whole time trying to convince us not to elope? Megan: Hmpf. Asher: Mhm. Megan: Well, we should at least have a reception so you can celebrate with everyone.

Asher: You really can’t help yourself, can you? Megan: What’s wrong with wanting to celebrate with you? Asher: Nothing, but we can do that now, just us. The last thing Atlas wants is some big party where he’s the center of attention. I’m not going to do that to him. Megan: Alright, fine, I’ll drop it. Asher: Thank you.

Megan: You did pick a good one, though. Asher: [smiles] I did, didn’t I? Megan: Have you talked about having kids of your own? Asher: [sighs] A little bit, a few years ago. I don’t think it’s going to happen. Megan: Why not?

Asher: It’s complicated. Megan: Well, a lot can happen in a few years. Maybe it’s worth discussing again. You don’t have much longer to change your mind before it’s too late. Asher: I know. I just don’t want to pressure him, yknow. And I don’t want to go through that process unless it’s something we both really want.

Megan: Is it what you want? Asher: I mean, I’m okay without. Megan: That’s not what I asked. Asher: … Megan: I’ll support whatever you two decide, but I think it’d be worth a conversation. And sooner than later. Asher: [nods] Yeah. Okay.

Just wouldn't be a family gathering without Phoenix randomly smoking indoors... It still takes me by surprise every time lol I could fix it, but this is more fun

[laswells-ashtray]

Your writings are so good that I’m entrusting you with this simple prompt: Dragon Hybrid Price and (Any Hybrid) Nikolai.

Do what you will dear wizard writer.

For the sheer sake of you never implied how silly I could get with this, I'm sillying it up:

Bear hybrid Nikolai [because it's too fucking good] and dragon hybrid Price standing about one day, the two sergeants and the lieutenant are training together while the older two men watch. They're on someone else's base, a hybrid-less base but they're making do with what the have.

John's leaning back against the wall, wings pressed up against the brick in a way that has to be uncomfortable or at least that's what everyone assumes. He's rubbing at the base of one of his horns as if trying to soothe a headache and he looks quite frankly exhausted when another Captain appraoches.

John decides that in comparison to this man, he looks like Marilyn fucking Monroe.

"Captain Givens, you look about as good as I feel." John is at least trying to keep a good relationship with the other team even if they have a habit of pissing off each of them.

"Too fuckin' right. Just got off the phone with the Missus and had to help her convince my little boy not to shove his Batman figure up his nose. It's exhausting." The man complains, running a hand over his face tiredly.

John makes a sympathetic noise but doesn't hide his amused look. "Oh, I'm all too familiar with that feeling." The other day he'd had to convince a group of rookies that Soap is indeed a liar and that oil paint is in fact not edible just because it has oil in the name.

"You have kids?"

"Yes." John should've been smarter than to think that Nikolai's silence was a good thing, he doesn't get a chance to correct the bear hybrid before the other Captain asks:

"How many?"

"Three." Nikolai tells him while watching the boys train in the distance.

For a brief moment, John wants to tug on one of his fluffy ears and tell him to quit it. On the other hand, fuck it, why not?

"Yeah, three over there are mine. Different mums but I was a bit of a tart back in the day." He's reliant on the fact the human knows nothing about hybrids, specifically dragon hybrids for it to work. It's no secret that dragon hybrids can live a lot longer than the average human if they're careful about it but to those types of hybrids, John is still a toddler, horns still in one piece with wings that are still vibrant and healthy.

He can see the amusement in Nik's big brown eyes, he likes it when John sinks down to his level of teasing humans. The only one exempt was Kate, they respected her too much and she wasn't an idiot, she'd never believe half of the stupid shit they've all told people throughout the years. Besides, Kate is family. She has five hybrids protecting her back and the average CIA agent is still more scared of her.

"Riley, MacTavish and Garrick? They're yours?" The human asks in disbelief. Simon was going to kill him for this later, Kyle and Johnny would inevitably laugh themselves hoarse.

"Aye. Didn't find out about Riley until he was a teenager and his Mum got in contact. Looks fuck all like me but he's certainly mine. Lad certainly wasn't a chipper wee thing but I managed to win him over, SAS was his choice, I just put him on the task force because I owed it to his Mum to keep an eye out." He's talking out of his arse now and he knows it but the captain seems to be hanging on his every word. Nikolai is making the conscious decision to look away from him but he can see the faint shaking of the bastard's shoulders, he's laughing.

"MacTavish was from an eventful night up in Glasgow one evening, we didn't know if he was mine or Nik's until we saw the little blighter's eyes."

Good on Nik for how quickly he sorts himself, turning around and nodding approvingly. "Ah, but young MacTavish has always favoured me. Would've been a good bear cub, very grizzly."

The captain looks over to the three men training with wide eyes, tilting his head as he stares at them all, surveying them before he looks back to John.

"And Garrick is yours too?"

Kyle had been ripping on him for being old earlier so maybe he plays it up just that little bit more.

He nods, looking over at Gaz with the most proud look he can muster, it's real but he can pretend it isn't just for the bit. "He was an angel when he was a tot, good sleeper and learned to talk quick. Was always a little grumpy that he didn't have horns too but he got over it eventually. Got him a blanket with a dragon on it when he was two and he didn't get rid of the thing until he was fifteen. Big Mumma's boy though, spitting image of his mother and more than proud of it."

It almost saddens him that the interaction ends when a sergeant whose name he can't remember calls over the captain about something but the sound of Nik's deep, gruff laughter is anything to soothe his short-lived annoyance.

Truthfully, he forgets about the entire interaction within a few hours until Soap barges into his temporary room on the base with a positively gleeful look.

"Price, I don't know what the fuck you did but Gaz is due to kick yer heed in."

"Excuse me?"

"Givens won't stop asking him about his dragon blankie."

Shit.

"And what's this about you and Nik playing who's the daddy when I was born?"

Shit.