#representation matters even in fic

[nhl-stories]

To celebrate Pride Month I wanted to compiled a list of fics featuring queer characters. Because if this sport won't be as accepting as we want it to be we'll make it queerer ourselves

This is very much a non-exhaustive list and if you have a fic to add to the list please send my way!

• Serotonin - Cale Makar x Non-binary OC

• Them - Jakob Chychrun x Non-Binary OC

• Gotta Trust How You Feel Inside - Jeff Skinner x Non-Binary OC

• Hydrangeas Where Your Face Should Be - Dougie Hamilton x Trans OC

• You Stupid Bitch - Leon Draisaitl x Pansexual OC

• Fool's Holiday - Dougie Hamilton x Bisexual OC

• Until the Light Shines Through - Quinn Hughes x Bisexual OC

• Matthew Tkachuk x Bisexual Female Reader

• Think I Could Love You- Zach Aston-Reese x Asexual OC

Fics that feature queer side characters (because otherwise this list might be wayyy too short):

* Capricious- Brandon Tanev feat Drag queen gay couple

[tulassecondblog]

black reader discourse…

I am quite frankly, very tired of seeing posts complaining about ‘hood’ Y/Ns and all of you coming out of the woodwork to proclaim that you don’t act this way and it’s disgusting to act this way and you hate fics where the reader wears wigs or acrylics or says the N-word and how all of these are just an inaccurate representation of our community. this is just very coon like behavior and is giving pick me.

yall know very well that fics including black women didn’t even exist until very recently. i’m grateful for every fic written whether it’s bad or good. either way they are contributing to the growth of a very niche community and helping establishing our presence here on this app. i’ve been on this app for like 12 years and I remember in the very early days when fics first started including black mc’s. no matter how the black mc was represented there would still be people in the mentions/comments like ‘eww gross you n***** why did you write this?’ or ‘this fic is so good but why is she black?’. we were quite literally fighting for our right to exist on this app.

hood culture is, like it or not, a big part of the black community and it’s not all negative. it’s a cultural movement that spawned from us being barred from white spaces and seen as the ‘inferior’ race no matter how we presented ourselves. hood girls deserve to see themselves in fiction just like everyone else. they deserve love without the implication that they need to imitate others/change themselves to seem more ‘civilized’. they aren’t bad people just because you don’t share the same style, vocab, interests and hobbies as they do.

whenever you bring this up you are giving non black people a free pass to insert themselves and say ‘yes omg so ghetto’. there are enough people against us. i would never help facilitate a conversation which further criticizes our community. especially when it’s related to very real people whose experiences you are trying to devalue.

[pathologicalreid]

i like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it | s.r.

in which Spencer Reid is a mosaic of every person he's ever known, and you are the only one who has ever been able to bring him back to the present

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (flangst) content warnings: pregnant!reader, takes place following the believer storyline, abandonment issues, fear of being a parent, spencer reid is sooooo in love with his wife word count: 1.84k a/n: long ass fic title idk blame matty healy!!

His hand was growing sweaty in yours, but he couldn’t get himself to relax his grip. Slow breaths moved your chest while you slept peacefully next to him, the occasional whistle from your nostrils made the corner of his mouth quirk up. 

Adjusting his head on the pillow, Spencer winced slightly at the way the pillowcase felt on his new wounds. Cuts and bruises littered his face, but nothing hurt him the way the tear tracks on your face had when he finally made it back to the BAU. It had been the only thing on his mind when that blade had been pressed to his throat—what it meant to be leaving you behind. 

Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off of you, continuously studying your sleeping form to ensure you were undisturbed. He knew you hadn’t been sleeping well, a result of the wriggling baby that was growing in your womb, and yet, you’d still been up for the majority of the night, waiting for him to return to you and then making sure he was taken care of once he got home. You’d spent an hour trying to take care of the cut in his hairline while he tried to herd you to bed. The glorious symbiosis of marriage, he supposed, you being there to take care of him while he took care of you. You brought him to his knees. 

Though you were past viability, he still worried about you and the baby, knowing you hadn’t closed your eyes until four in the morning did nothing to quell the anxiety thrumming through his body. It seemed that the only thing that was helping was seeing you sleep, having the physical representation of his life on the other side of his mattress was all he could do to stay calm. 

His anxiety about becoming a father had manifested itself in stacks of parenting books littered throughout his life—piled up on his nightstand, the coffee table, and even his desk in the bullpen. Not only had he been collecting books on fatherhood, but motherhood as well, so he could help you adjust to your new role even better than he could adjust to his own. Though, none of that mattered if he never lived to see this dream come to fruition, and ever since he saw your positive pregnancy test, he found himself considering a life without the BAU. 

Everyone considered him still young, still the kid of the team, but his future faced him square in the eyes everytime he looked at you. He was eye to eye with a decision to make, to choose which mentor he truly wished to emulate. Did he want to be the one who took on everything until it became too much? Tearing him apart limb from limb until he had to take off in the middle of the night to put himself back together, only to have the ghosts of his past come back to haunt him. He could be the one who nearly lost everything, sticking it out even when everyone would’ve understood taking the other path. Remaining a leader to the team because he was a hero to his son—until he wasn’t. Then, there was the one who had chosen ambition over everything else in his life, collecting beginnings of stories only to never experience the middle, only finding answers when the story had reached a resolution. 

Maybe he placed too much stake in the men that he had once looked up to, previously too young to see the flaws in the way they forged their paths and too captivated to recognize the flaws in their process. 

Lost, he opened his eyes again to find you, taking up the arduous task of committing your every trait to memory. Naturally, your likeness was branded to the backs of his eyelids, making you the first person he saw when he woke up in the morning and the last person he saw when he went to bed every night—even when you were miles away. He’d never had the privilege of seeing you in this exact moment before, how your nostrils flared with each exhale and your lips had parted slightly against the pressure of your pillow. Once every few minutes, your fingers would twitch from their place intertwined with his, and he’d just watch. 

The way your hair fell across the champagne colored pillow case was nothing short of art, as if it had been precariously arranged on the sheets instead of mere happenstance. The way your sleep shirt had bunched up over your shoulder, pulling the side of the shirt up to expose the skin of your hip and, coincidentally, your bump, threatened to take his breath away. 

There were moments, blips in his timeline, where he nearly forced himself to acquiesce the concept of becoming a father. Having a kid of his own, moving on from being the friend who was the designated godfather and allowing himself to endure everything that a child had to offer. Only, he worried he didn’t have enough to offer his child, if he’d lost too much of his own childhood to have empathy for the baby you were carrying. Everyone told him that the concern would wear off eventually, but there was no light at the end of this tunnel. There was no end for terror when the catalyst was right around the corner. 

Shifting himself down the mattress, he held his arm over his head so your fingers could remain intertwined, shuffling until your belly was eye level. He sighed gently, silently admiring the work that your body was doing—changing, shifting—all to bring new life into this world. “I have to tell you something, Kit,” he murmured to the baby. 

The nickname had been chosen by you, deciding that no matter the gender of the baby, their nickname would be Kit. You didn’t yet know if they’d be Christopher or Kathleen, but they would be Kit. 

“When everyone asked, I told them I wasn’t scared of the Believers,” he explained to the fetus, who was just barely developed enough to hear what was going on outside of the womb. He’d spoken to them before, reading aloud from whatever book he happened to be reading at the time. Once, when you’d been upset, kept awake by a baby who was active at night, he’d even sung a lullaby to them, trying to console both of you at once. 

He glanced up at you, ensuring that his tender whispers weren’t prohibiting your sleep before continuing. “I wasn’t. I knew that the team would get to me, but at the same time… I was petrified. Scared,” he pointlessly simplified his phrasing as if he were speaking to a child sitting on his lap. 

There had only been one word cycling through his head while a knife was held to his throat—baby. “I was scared I wouldn’t be able to meet you.” 

If he committed himself to ignoring his work and the interpersonal relationships that he’d curated at work, Spencer would find that there was little else in his life that held significance—save for you and the baby. He had his mother, but even the simplest of memories were continuing to fall from her mind like the petals of a flower. The inner beauty of you was that this life was just beginning, a newly sowed garden of his own to share—to cultivate and protect. 

Every moment of his life had been forcibly seared on himself by his memory, even the terror that burned his chest earlier tonight would remain in a locked box for years to come, but sometimes, when he closed his eyes and searched for you, he discovered gratitude. There was a blessing beneath what he previously would’ve sworn was a curse, he could travel with the team and see memories of you and the family that the two of you created.

But would that ever be enough? 

What was the true value of a glimpse of his own child when he knew you’d be at home, facing all of the late nights and diaper changes alone? Would he feel content in being a part of his child’s life when what he truly craved was being a whole of their life? He’d never truly had that, his own father perpetually had one foot out the door for his entire childhood before he finally left. He’d experienced loss of that caliber time and time again until he met you, the one person who took his breath away. You had stayed, and he felt as though he belonged beneath you. On his knees before you while you took on responsibilities that couldn’t fit into his own schedule—menial tasks like laundry and grocery shopping and taxes. This wasn’t fair to you. This wasn’t fair to your baby, being mistreated by the world before they took their first sobbing breath. 

The night before your wedding, he’d confessed to you that he was scared he’d given up the best years of his life to the BAU, and you’d assured him that was impossible. That didn’t stop the doubt from creeping in at times like these, moments where the job got a little too scary, when there had to be a call home and a protective detail placed. Those were the moments when he looked to you and knew if you told him it was too much, he’d throw in the towel, but you never did. You’d never ask that of him, and part of him has always known that it needed to be a decision he made for himself. 

Next to him, you shifted slightly on the bed, your nose wrinkling in distaste as the sun rose, resulting in rays of light beaming in through the blinds. As always, you brought him back, returning his thoughts to the present tense because he was here now, in bed next to you. The sun was walking up his wife, the mother of his child, and after everything he had put her through the night before, he couldn’t tolerate the actions of the celestial being. 

Spencer got out of bed, precariously placing his feet on boards that wouldn’t creak while he made his way to the window, tugging the string of the blinds until light had been completely forbidden from the bedroom. When he turned around, he saw your hand reaching out, flexing your fingers like you were trying to grab something—trying to grab him. “Come back,” your sleep-muddled voice called out for him. 

The smile that bloomed on his face was unavoidable, everything that’s grown in his garden before him in plain view. He made his way back to bed, climbing under the covers with you and opening his arms for you to slide into. You rested your head gently on his chest, falling back to sleep to the beat of his heart, leaving him with nothing left to concern himself with but the gentle way your eyelashes curled over your cheeks.

[heechwe]

ANYTHING FOR YOU | 전원우

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ꒰ MY FIC FOR JUPITER'S SECRET CUPID COLLAB

⟢ PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 3K ⟢ GENRE: slight comedy, fluff, smut ⟢ TAGS: best friends to lovers au, drunk confession, dirty talk, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating ⟢ SYNOPSIS: Wonwoo has been your best friend forever. And maybe something more could be in the cards with a mature, sophisticated confession. Or a lot of alcohol. ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by LANY's song "anything 4 u"! Big thanks to my betas for this fic Tiya (@gyubakeries), Honey (@heesuncore), and Mitchie (@seokgyuu)! I love you all so much. And this fic is for my Secret Cupid Ally (@lovetaroandtaemin)!! I love you loads and you're an incredible friend. I'm so glad I got you so I could share a small token of appreciation for our friendship. I hope you love this story as much as I did writing it! ♥︎

Valentine’s Day weekend. The one weekend you have to suffer through everything being doused in red, pink, and white decorations. It’s everywhere: across your work office, all around the city you live in, and even plastered around the hole-in-the-wall bar that all of your friends are drinking in now. 

It’s not one of your least favorite holidays, per se. But the intensity of it can be incredibly draining. The constant declarations of affection, the emotionally gooey visual representations of one’s desire for another person, it’s too much even for some of your own friends who are coupled up. 

The reality of your loneliness pushes your mood down just enough that staring down your third bottle of beer makes you yearn for another, despite your alcohol tolerance being less than stellar. And to make matters worse, it sucks to be surrounded by others’ happiness when you’re so alone in love and in love with someone too enmeshed in your life as a friend, rather than a person of romantic interest.

Wonwoo sits with Vernon and Soonyoung at the high-top bar, nursing tequila shots and Coronas without bothering to look back at the rest of your table of friends. Yes, you were all celebrating Soonyoung’s new promotion and Vernon finally nabbing a girlfriend in time for Valentine’s this year, and they only stalked off a few minutes ago to share a few drinks on their own, but you wish Wonwoo was sitting next to you again. 

You always mocked him for telling you to slow down. To drink water to avoid dehydration or to eat something to offset your alcohol intake. With all of his parroted wisdom that drives some of his closest friends crazy, you love him for it. You love him for a lot of reasons, really.

“Maybe you should just tell him, you know?” Seokmin says across from you, looking over at you from the rim of his Whiskey Sunrise. It’s a sickly shade of red, grenadine mixed in with the other ingredients to commemorate the holiday season. You wonder if it tastes like cough syrup, because it sure looks like it.

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” You ask with a slur, licking the remaining beer on your lips. “It’s not that easy to destroy seven years of friendship.”

“Come on. You act like nobody else has noticed when it’s plain as day, babe,” Seungkwan pipes up next to you, elbowing you softly in the ribs with an accompanying waggle of his eyebrows.

“And what is your best course of action, Dum and Dee?” You split your stare between both of your friends, your irritation peaking. “I just go over to that bar and confess everything to him. Then he’ll say he’s felt the same this entire time and we ride off into the sunset together?”

“One, you don’t need to be rude,” Seokmin responds. “Two, you don’t have to make it so dramatic. Get him alone tomorrow, maybe. Talk it out, see where it goes.”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan says. “It doesn’t need to be this big movie scene thing.”

“What movie?” Soonyoung asks, sitting back down next to Seungkwan and in front of his empty bowl of ramen. The other boys follow suit, Vernon alongside Seokmin and Wonwoo next to you once again.

It feels like torture and sanctuary in the same moment, so close but so far from what you wish the two of you could be.

“Nothing, just this documentary we all saw the other night,” you respond. You press your lips to your bottle again, pouting when the last droplets hit your tongue. “I’m gonna get another,” you say to nobody in particular. Wonwoo perks up once he notices you stumbling to get out of your chair.

“Not so fast,” Wonwoo says as you fall back into his arms. “I think I should get you home.”

“No, the night’s still young!” You whine into his jacket, your hair ruffling the skin on his neck. His chest rumbles with laughter, but nothing at the moment is funny to you. You don’t want to leave just yet, and he doesn’t need to treat you like a baby. “We still haven't even gone to karaoke.”

“Another night. Go sleep it off!” Vernon calls from behind you.

“You kids have fun!” Seokmin says with a conspiratory wink. You and Wonwoo walk towards the entrance of the bar, and you want to throw something at Seokmin to make your idiot best friend’s dumb smirk and even more ridiculous idea of confessing your feelings to your mutual friend blip out of existence.

Wonwoo has seen you at your lowest. He consoled you after you ran your car into a parked motorcycle when you were sixteen, your humiliation palpable the whole three hours you both waited for the police to show up. He’s held you in his arms after every failed romantic relationship, telling you it was always them and never you when it ended poorly. There’s nothing the two of you haven’t been there for each other for, no experience too vulnerable to share and overcome together.

But Wonwoo holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you throw up may just be the all-time low of your embarrassing moments. He whispers in your ear that you’re okay and rubs your back with a soft hand, and you feel all the worse for it. How could he ever love someone this prone to disaster, this cringeworthy?

“You should go home,” you cry into the toilet bowl. “I’m disgusting.”

Wonwoo says your name in a mocking tone, pretending to be serious but in no way critical of you or the situation. He takes off his plaid button up and throws it in some random corner of your bathroom, free to hold you as close as possible as you continue dry-heaving. “You’re not disgusting.”

“Of course you’d say that, you’re you.”

He laughs again, tucking what hair he can from your face so you can lift your head off of the toilet. “And what’s that?”

You look at him with puffy, half-open eyes. “Perfect.”

He helps you up from the tile floor and moves you to your bedroom on your weak legs. He sheds off your overshirt as you kick off your denim jeans. Your mind rumbles with a whirlpool of thoughts as his brain ruminates on the word you used when comparing himself to you.

“I’m in no way perfect, kid,” he whispers. The nickname he’s used on you forever feels like a backhand, a copious amount of salt in a wound you know will never heal. He’ll always see you at a distance from him, his feelings leagues away from yours.

“Don’t call me that,” you cry into your pillow, resting your cheek deep into the material to muffle the quiet sobs in your throat. He can’t be serious, talking to you so tenderly when you’re falling apart.

“Hey, can you look at me?” You shake your head and settle deeper into the pile of comforters and throw pillows. Wonwoo suddenly feels his gut turn into a dozen knots. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, how to fix it, or what to say to make things better, and it kills him. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you’re too perfect to love someone like me. But I love you so much, and it fucking sucks,” you hiccup, the darkness of your bed making you believe he’s not there, this isn’t real, and it’s okay to release all the words in your heart into the dark. “And every time I see those damn red and pink hearts all over the place, I think of you and I want to die.”

The force of your confession almost knocks Wonwoo on his ass. At the very least, he settles onto the desk chair near your bed and hears your whimpers give way to light snores.

He runs his hands through your hair again and tucks the covers up to your chin. He holds himself back from pressing a kiss to your forehead, the one thing he’s always done when you’ve passed out countless times before in his presence, but never recalled the next morning. This time, though, he prays you’ll remember your drunken admission.

“I hope you meant everything you said,” he whispers before retreating to your couch to fall asleep to the sounds of the cityscape below.

You wake up to low jazz playing from your living room TV and the smell of sizzling eggs. Each limb aches from the heavy sleep you fell under last night. You quietly pad out of your room to find Wonwoo cooking what looks to be the perfect mix of breakfast and hangover food. A makeshift Bloody Mary sits on the counter next to him, waiting for you.

Wonwoo turns when he senses you behind him, and he grins. “Hey, you’re awake. I was worried you’d be passed out until the afternoon. I wouldn’t blame you, though.”

You blush a shade deeper, still sporting your tank top and clad in a pair of boy shorts. You forgot you had taken your pants off before slipping into bed the night prior, but it isn’t the first time Wonwoo’s seen you half-clothed. You drink half of the concoction and set it down, your headache throbbing a little less. “How bad was I last night?”

He smirks. “Bad enough to throw up another three times.”

You groan into the back of your hand and hitch yourself up on the counter across from Wonwoo, his focus still on the over-medium eggs in the pan. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me again.”

“I wanted to,” he says without looking up at you. “I always want to be here when you need me.”

“I know, I know, it’s your job to say that,” you joke.

He drops the metal spatula next to him on the stove, and you jump up at the sound. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say a word for a moment, and you’re unsure if he’s even breathing when you ask him if he’s okay. “So, you don’t remember then?” His question comes out almost like a statement, but the wavered edge of it proves he is concerned with whatever has slipped your mind.

“Woo, you’re freaking me out.”

He turns the stove to a low, simmering heat before facing you. His eyes look sad but expectant, waiting for the inevitable to come to you. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, and in that instant, you recall that last hour before you fell asleep. Wonwoo helping you into bed. Crying in your bed. And all the words that followed.

The memories bring tears to your eyes and your hands to your face. “Oh my god—”

Wonwoo takes your palms away and holds them to his mouth. “Stop running from me.”

“Don’t make me say it again, Woo, please.” Your bottom lip trembles. You fight every instinct to run from the kitchen and out of the apartment altogether, wanting to accept the continuous pain of hiding your feelings than the truth that this could be the end of the both of you as you know it, for better or worse.

“Fine, you don’t have to.” Wonwoo’s lips curl into that grin you’ve adored for almost a decade. “I’ll say what I need to first, then.”

He takes a deep breath and sets his jaw. “I’ve been in love with you since the minute you threw your ice-cream at that biker who almost clipped me in the foot on the way to school. Remember? I may have loved you long before that, but that’s the moment I realized.

“And I don’t want to lose you. I want to be more than just the guy you call your best friend. I want to be the only friend that matters, the friend that kisses you goodnight and tells you how beautiful you are because there’s no other way to describe you. I love you, too, kid, whether you realized it or not.”

A breathy yelp leaves your mouth before you kiss Wonwoo on the mouth. It’s a hard one, a clash of teeth and a bit of tongue, but you didn’t expect less from such an unexpected and perfect confession. Maybe this was the way you rode off into the sunset together. Sure, there was the smell of burning eggs instead of the sounds of a white stallion gallivanting off to the unforeseeable future, but it’s perfect. It’s yours.

Wonwoo shuts the burner off entirely before he takes you by the hand into your bedroom. When your bed is in full view, he kisses you long and slow. It’s nothing like the first kisses you shared a second ago, but it’s earth-shattering all the same.

You moan into his mouth when he presses a free hand to your breast, teasing the skin above your shirt until your nipple pebbles.

“Is this too fast?” He asks in a gruff voice. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, I just—”

You press a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. “If you do not take my clothes off right now and fuck me, I will never speak to you again.”

Wonwoo smirks and kisses you once more, only stopping to pull your tank top over your head and rip your underwear off of your legs. His fingers delve between your folds, and you shudder in his hold but refuse to let him take his hand away.

“You like this,” he whispers, the statement thick with his lust.

“Yes, it feels so good,” you whimper. You gasp when two of his fingers curl inside of you, his thumb still nestled on top of your clit to swirl around with the pad. The amount of pleasure he’s already given you is indescribable, and he hasn’t even truly done much yet.

You whine when he takes his hand away, but it’s to discard his own clothes and sit at the edge of your bed. He beckons for you to sit on top of him, and he doesn’t think twice about swirling himself between your essence and lining the head of his dick with your entrance. His tip is so swollen and covered in pre-cum, there’s no problem sinking it inside of your heat.

You share a mutual curse of pleasure when he bottoms out, his pelvic bone meeting your skin. You stay like that for a moment. You’re so full and unable to move from the size of him filling every empty space inside of you, you think this has to be a dream. Last night has not given way to day yet, and now is just a conjuring of your cruel mind. 

You get lost in your thoughts for so long Wonwoo brings his hand to your face and traces his fingers over your cheek, staring at you lovingly. “Where’d you go?”

You smile shyly and kiss his nose. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you it’s real.”

He takes your ass between his hands and spreads you out before thrusting up inside of you, making you gasp hard. He moves long and slow underneath you, almost taking his cock out of your pussy completely before delving back into you.

“I want to give you everything,” he pants. “All that I have—will have—is for you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whisper, meeting his hips with yours as you try to set your own pace, sinking down onto him with every thrust where your skin meets with loud smacks.

“I love you so much,” he says into your neck before biting down on your soft skin. You moan loudly and press yourself deeper and harder against him. His cock hits you at the perfect angle as you straddle him, and you feel the start of your climax deep in your stomach.

Seven years of missed opportunities. More than too many chances for days and nights like this spent together so intimately gone to the wind. It’s easy to be regretful for all the time that you’ve wasted without each other, but you realize it’s not wasted at all.

Every step, every thread of fate that tied you two together, brought you here. Whatever comes of today is just an extension of what has already existed in your hearts. So what more is there to ask for?

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he growls in your ear. His balls smack against your skin as he continues to slam into you. Tears spring in your eyes as he moves even harder, trying to take you both to your peaks together. “Where can I come, baby?”

“Inside of me. I want all of it, all of you. Please,” you beg. You bounce harder on top of him, circling your clit with your fingers to fall off the precipice with Wonwoo by your side.

“You want to feel all of me, yeah? So full of my cum it’s all you’ll think about?” He smirks and replaces the fingers on your clit with his own. “Maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you with how much cum I give you. Would you like that?”

You see stars behind your eyelids as you listen to the beautiful, dirty words on his lips. You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in this way. It’s all you’ve thought about for years, truthfully.

“God, I’m coming,” you say into his neck, thighs quivering as the rest of your body goes slack from the pleasure. Wonwoo grunts into the shell of your ear as he orgasms himself, his seed spilling into you so deep you think there’s no way any remnant of him will slip out.

When he takes himself out of you, he swirls the mixture of both of your releases on his fingers before you take those fingers into your mouth, sucking them dry.

Wonwoo chuckles and kisses you deeply, the taste of the two of you on both of your tongues. “That’s one way to end Valentine’s weekend, don’t you think?”

You giggle and kiss him on both cheeks, too eager to see the rest of your future together. “You could say that.”

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @okiedokrie-main @brownbunnyb

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @/sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

[theonlymadmanonmars]

Hi hello hi. As an AroAce individual in a QPR who has no desire for a romantic or sexual relationship, I think shipping Alastor in QPRs is so so fun and people should do it more. I also think it works for a good amount if not all of the ships I've seen him in.

Alastor and Rosie: Hell yeah. They're already great friends and every interaction we've seen between them has been pure and adorable. Rosie Gently guiding Alastor through his identity because he isn't exactly up with the slang. Them going out for tea and human flesh Sunday afternoons. Them giving each other forehead kisses and holding hands platonically.

Alastor and Angle dust: Mhmm. Angle not really wanting Sex or romance after all he's been through. Angle respecting Alastor's identity and not pushing for anything more than friendship. Alastor not really liking Angle at first because of their differences, But tolerating him regardles. Alastor explaining to Angle that Romantic relationships don't have to involve Sex (I'm an Asexual Angle truther.) Angle offering Alastor a hug that Alastor reluctantly accepts. Them cuddling at night with a pinky Promise of nothing more.

Alastor and Vox: Go ahead. A fic about Alastor trying to Navigate exactly how he feels about Vox, Because when he died the term AroAce didn't exist, so he thinks it's romantic attraction, Maybe they kiss and Alastor is like "Ha! No!" Maybe that's why they had their falling out? Who knows.

Alastor and Lucifer: So So SO much Yes. (This is my personal favorite) The two of them hating each other, but putting up for each other for Charlie's sake. Slowly growing to actually tolerate and maybe even like being around the other. Exchanging snarky remarks in a more playful way. Alastor finding Lucifer sitting in a pile of ducks and despair and offering his hand to help him up and take him to the hotel. Never letting go of his hand. Fuck Enemies to Friends to Lovers I want an Enemies to Friends to Qpr arc goddamnit.

I do think it's okay to ship Alastor even outside of QPR's, BUT. If you do, don't just ignore Alastor's identity. AroAce people get far less representation than the rest of the LGBTQ+ community. I can think of one other canon Character off the top of my head. So it's not okay to erase the little rep we do get. In the end I think it's important to listen to what AroAce people have to say on the matter, it is our representation after all.

[twobitsblade]

Hi!!! I saw your poll and I was wondering if you could write a 60s!Elvis X Reader fic, where Reader is having a hard time at work because they can't seem to keep up with everything and Elvis finds them crying outside their work place? Comforting them and asking why they can't just let him take care of them?

Take all the time you need!❤️

(hello, thank you so much for requesting this! it was slightly difficult to write since this is my first time writing smut, but i hope you all enjoy it. i’d love to see more requests featuring elvis in my inbox!)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ MY HEART BELONGS TO DADDY !

a work of fiction written by @twobitsblade and inspired by @atleastpleasetelephone, @jhoneybees, @wanderingelvis, @lustnhim, and @theelvisprincess !

contains: smut (obviously), reader and elvis are married, elvis is a cocky know-it-all with hints of the 1960s male mindset !

you and elvis had been together for a while now; around three years of loving, fighting, and arguing, but you knew that at the end of the day he’d always be there for you. and you knew that even when you took up a new job at your aunt’s boutique—something which elvis discouraged multiple times (“oh m’baby, you ain’t needuh do these stupid ol’ jobs, m’the one providin’”)—while you were very thankful for him, your aunt desperately needed your help, and who were you to turn her down?

but it turns out that perhaps elvis was right—this job began to be a lot more than you’d signed up for. originally, the deal was you’d wear a cute dress, get your hair done all nice (for free, mind you), and greet the customers, but then more and more duties started being asked of you.

“oh dear, can you go bring the boxes from the basement?” “can you go downtown and pick up some new hair dyes? we’re all out, and the shipment won’t be on time?” “can you give her a little trim? it’s not too complicated.”

while you don’t like to think of yourself as spoilt, you’re not very used to working these types of jobs. i mean, you and elvis have been together for years, and you’d gotten used to the comfy lifestyle he provided you.

one day, it just became too much—you were turning around like a dog, fulfilling one task after the other, and it didn’t help that you barely slept last night. it’s not like you could tell elvis about this because it’d prove him right, and you can’t handle that damn cocky smirk on his face as he tells you how he knows his little one wasn’t made for such hard work.

you sigh, placing your things down—the sound a bit louder than intended, causing you to flinch. you toss off your high heels, lazily running up the stairs of graceland and into the bedroom you and elvis shared—grand, beautiful, and decorated by both of you as a visual representation of your love for the other—but now all it felt was suffocating.

you plopped down on the bed, not bothering to change out of your outdoor clothes, and laid your head facing the ceiling when suddenly you heard rustling and groaning, causing you to turn your head as you saw the back of elvis’s head. he slowly turns around to face you, clearly still half asleep.

“mmm, hey m’baby, how’s work?” he says drowsily, grabbing you by the collar of your dress and pulling you close, wrapping his leg around your waist.

“it was fine, el—fine as usual,” you say, though he wasn’t stupid; even half asleep, he could tell. he groaned, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.

he looked you up and down before smirking—god damn it—“well, what’s the matter, huh, little ’un?” you rolled your eyes and weakly shoved him, the shove barely moving him.

“i said it was nothing, didn’t i?” you groaned, but he doesn’t care.

“ah, f’god’s sakes, just let me take care of my babygirl…” he groaned, grabbing you and laying you on top of him. you tried to pull away to no avail, causing you to let out a mewl which made him chuckle—everything about him was irritating you in that moment: his baby blue eyes, his tan skin, his perfectly, oh so disgustingly perfect smile, and the softness with which he looked at you, his girl. you sighed, resting your head on his chest and stifling a sob, and he noticed, tangling his fingers in your hair, “shh, m’girl, tell daddy what happened.” you did, and even though it all came out as incomprehensible high-pitched, whiny rambles, he nodded as though he understood you—not just your words, but the language of your soul.

you eventually felt content, done venting. you sighed, wiped your tears, and looked up at him, and suddenly you chuckled. it wasn’t quite wry but not quite from happiness; you felt good—elvis always had a way of making you feel good.

and in your exhausted state, you needed him, needed him badly, and he could see that; after all, he knew you inside and out. his hand went down to your back, then to your hip, then to your butt, then to your thigh, causing you to feel slight tingles coursing through you—you hated that, you hated how easily he could get you in such a vulnerable state.

“baby, come on, you need to open up for me. how else can i keep you safe, huh, lil ’un?”—ah, the typical elvis double entendre.

you nodded slowly, turning around on his lap so he could unzip your dress, the slight friction causing him to groan, “fuckin’ tease, you are…” he said, unzipping your dress slowly but surely, “ah, m’girls wearin’ somethin’ fancy, hmm?” he said, observing your baby pink bra with lace detailing. your face heated up at his words as you expected him to unbuckle your bra, but he didn’t.

he linked his fingers underneath the clasp and pulled you backwards so that your back rested on his chest, as his hands, in a painfully slow manner, slid down from your cleavage to your ribs, to your belly, down to your pelvic bone, and under your skirt—and you arched into him, causing a giggle to escape him. “hmm, needy, ain’t ya?” he said, his fingers rubbing circles on your clothed cunt as you squirmed into his touch. he slipped one finger underneath the fabric and then inside you, causing you to let out a loud, high-pitched moan—and god knows he wasn’t going to be the one to silence those sounds—then another finger, then a third and final one, as he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. you lost yourself in his touch; incomprehensible words mixed with moans left your mouth drowned by his groans—the sounds almost pornographic.

he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on your dress, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness you felt and at the vulgarity of the action.

he rolled around so that you were now under him, and a surge of excitement crossed you.

he removed his pants, then his boxers, his erect cock springing out from them. he grinned, “y’ready m’baby?” you nodded, preparing yourself as he aligned his tip with your entrance, your wetness working as the perfect lube, and slowly—painfully slowly—he entered you, moans leaving your mouth as your mind became dazed, hungry for the man you loved so much.

slowly, he began thrusting in and out repeatedly, causing you to let out a strange sound—a mix of a scream and a yowl—with his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips. “mm, take it for me like a good little girl.” you nodded, continuing, and as you felt your climax approaching, he nodded, a silent signal that you could release yourself, and so you did—all over him—and soon after, he followed.

you both plopped down onto the bed with a sigh. he looked at your tired frame with admiration, the sweat glistening off your body and making you look like an angel. he hugged you slowly, “m’girl, you gotta be honest with me; i’m always gonna be takin’ care of you, aight?” you nodded, letting out a gentle mix between a whimper and a sigh as his body embraced yours.

[danceyreagan]

Its so hard being a black women who likes fanfiction. Like there is just still so little representation. Even when things are “reader” they are coded for white people.

No one is running their fingers through my silky hair. Or brushing hair out of my eyes behind my ear. I have an afro and when I dont its in twists. Also, black women dont really let people touch or play in their hair.

I dont have pink nipples.

I dont blush. My skin will not turn red no matter how hard Im blushing.

Now I thought it was hard in the Peaky Fandom. But there are some amazing black fic writers here and likely more have emerged since I havent been active in the fandom for a few years.

Trying to read Kpop fan fiction, its even harder to find representation.

If you are in any of the fandoms below, please comment or reblog with your fave black fanfic writers.

Mine are

@btsqualityy

@kimnjss

@panjakes

@laketaj24

@xxdearlybeloved

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE | Sebastian Vettel

High School History Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is stressed because his students did pretty bad in their latest History exam, but he gets more stressed and grumpy when Y/N, the cutest Primary School teacher according to Seb, arrives to the teacher's lounge to "annoy" him, but the truth is that there's more than that ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE THE OTHER DAY!

WORD COUNT: 3099

WARNINGS: LOTS OF GRUMPY (Seb) X SUNSHINE (Reader), some bad words, cursing, nothing else but wait till the end because I assure you you're gonna love it!

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @vampsarereal @gracie23x @cutelittlefakejourneys @scopeiguess @hoziersfrancesca

VEE'S NOTES: I ABSOLUTELY adored writing this, and I hope you like it as much as I do! This goes all the way up to the top of my fave fics written by me. Also, a toast to you because you liked all this Teacher!Seb thing a lot 🥹 I'd love to read your opinions on this, so feel free to leave me a comment, an anon message or reblogging since it helps us creators a lot. Thank you so much for reading, and hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

You shrugged, offering no further explanation. Instead, you grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it until it was next to Sebastian. To his utter surprise, you sat down beside him, placing your absurdly thick stack of papers on top of the ungraded exams.

If you didn’t leave in the next few seconds, Seb swore he'd have a heart attack.

“My kids need all of this, Seb,” you said again, showing him those ridiculous drawings once more. “They’re learning about pollination, and what better way than by coloring little bees and then putting them all over the classroom to represent how they work?”

“I’m currently questioning whether I’m a complete failure as a teacher so, to be completely honest with you, the last thing I need right now is you showing me this... nonsense.”

You scoffed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He was just too stressed. His students failing with embarrassingly low grades didn’t mean his skills as a teacher were declining, but it did mean he’d have an army of parents breathing down his neck, demanding explanations for why their children’s performance was so poor.

“Stop saying things like that!” You smacked his shoulder, and his patience wore even thinner when he noticed a red pen mark on the exam he was grading. One that, knowing all too well his students and their thoughts, they’d probably say looked like a penis.

“You’re not a failure. Teenagers are just… idiots.”

“Is that your opinion as a professional in the education field?2

“Of course!” you shouted, waving your hands dramatically. “Why do you think I teach Primary school? Little kids are way cuter, and they think I’m a genius just because I can spell difficult words without getting any help.”

Seb tried not to, but a small smile started creeping onto his face. He quickly bit his lower lip and shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure even though sitting next to you made him more nervous and, especially, more entertained, than he would have liked to admit.

“Look at you! I made you smile!”

“If I admit that you're almost funny, will you leave me alone?”

“Let me think about it… No.”

Sebastian didn’t even get a chance to answer before you suddenly jumped out of your chair and rushed toward the printer again.

“I just remembered why I came here! Oh my god, why do I have to be sooooooo forgetful?”

“I suppose that’s to make my life more miserable,” the German replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s just a bonus, Seb,” you turned to him, still smiling. “So, yeah, this printer isn’t working because… Well, I don’t know why. But I really need to make these copies, so I guess I’ll have to go back to the Primary school teachers' lounge…”

Sebastian stared at you, unsure of what to say.

Was he misunderstanding things because of stress, or he understood that you had actually walked all the way to the High School section, which was not anywhere near the Primary one, just to make copies, despite having a perfectly good printer in your own area?

“Did you come all the way from the Primary section to the High School one just for… some photocopies?”

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

“You're perfectly aware that there's a much better printer over there, right?”

“Well, that’s debatable if you consider…”

“Y/N, cut the bullshit.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to tell him that your free period, and your desire to see him, was the real reason you had come all this way, even if it had earned you a few questioning looks and whispered comments from some of your colleagues in the upper grades.

“Well… Maybe I also decided to come here to see you,” you admitted.

Vettel had no idea how to reply to that. He tried to think of something friendly and lighthearted, but his stress seemed to take over before he could filter his words.

“I'm this close to kicking you out, Y/N.”

You only laughed, placing a dramatic hand over your chest and letting out a fake gasp. Seb loved when you acted like this, but right now, he hated it more than ever.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t dare. I’m your favorite person out of all the people in this school.”

“Funny, because right now you happen to be exactly the opposite,” he muttered.

“You didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t.”

Seb shook his head and buried himself back in grading exams. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. No one was perfect, but somehow, you came pretty damn close without even trying.

“Stop making that weird face, or you’re going to get wrinkles ahead of time,” you teased. By now, you had sat back down beside him and were carefully cutting out flower-shaped drawings with impressive precision.

“You are insufferable, Y/N, really,” Vettel shot back as he meticulously corrected a student's answer about the causes of World War II.

“And yet, you still haven’t told me to shut up.”

Seb frowned. He wanted to do it. He should do it. But he couldn’t. You were too kind to him for him to snap at you… just like what was happening now.

He cursed himself mentally and swore that, from now on, he would grade exams at home to avoid this kind of altercation. Though, deep down, he also knew he would do it because, maybe, it would give him a little more time to spend with you.

Suddenly, you moved closer to him, too close, and took his chin. Your eyes locked, and for a few seconds, neither of you could say anything, let alone voice everything running through your minds about each other.

“You need a break, Seb.”

Your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, caressing it with a kind of affection that neither of you expected. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but his heart only pounded faster and faster, and he couldn’t see it as anything other than a betrayal of his feelings for you.

“Why do you always have to be a threat to me, Y/N?”

You simply smiled before leaving a kiss on his cheek and standing up.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but you know you love it,” you said, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, though not before turning back to him.

Sebastian knew exactly what you meant by doing that. He let out a deep sigh and carefully gathered all the exams, placing them in his briefcase along with his pencil case and phone.

“If I go with you wherever you’re going, do you promise to shut up?”

“Nop, there’s no way I’m doing that,” you replied cheerfully, taking his arm the moment he was beside you and dragging him out of the teachers’ lounge with no real destination in mind.

The German was beyond exhausted. He felt his head throbbing more than usual, which he knew was a sign of an oncoming migraine. He felt drained, frustrated, and more plagued by imposter syndrome than ever. It wasn’t the first time he’d had bad results on an exam, but it was the first time they had been this awful.

He decided not to dwell on it and did his best to push his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing instead on the woman beside him.

You couldn’t stop talking. First, you told him about how your kids, as you called your second-grade students, had made Christmas cards for you and even brought you a gift after the holidays. Then, you talked about how, today, your favorite student (because, according to you, yes, teachers had favorites) had dropped a piece of her sandwich on the floor, and you had to give her your own breakfast but it was worth it since she was more than happy to be having Ms. Y/L/N handmade cheesecake.

Now, you had launched into an explanation of the biodiversity project you were preparing for your students, focusing specifically on the importance of bees in the ecosystem. You even showed him some pictures of what you had been working on at home because you wanted it to turn out so well that you couldn’t just work on it during school hours.

“So…” you said after finishing your explanation. “What do you think about my project so far?”

Sebastian kept walking, trying to process the flood of information you had just given him in such a short time. While some of the pictures looked like pure chaos, something completely opposite to him, the embodiment of perfection, he had to admit that it was good. Really good, actually.

“Well… it looked fun,” he admitted.

“Are you serious!?” you squealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

He gave you a shy smile.

“Yes, of course, I mean it.”

“Oh, look at him! Grumpy Seb handing out compliments so easily!” you shouted again, now bouncing on your feet, earning a few disapproving looks from the teachers passing by. “This calls for me to get you a coffee!”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like having coffee. I already had one this morning, and I don’t think it’s the best idea, considering how nervous I—”

“That’s nonsense!” you interrupted, marching toward the Primary school section. “You’re going to have coffee with me, no matter what, and you’re going to thank me because I’m convinced my coffee is way better than that vending machine garbage you drink daily.”

“I’ll thank you the day not a single one of my students fails one of my exams,” he told you.

The Primary school teachers' lounge was empty when you both walked in. You didn’t say much, just offered Seb a seat and told him to make himself at home while you headed to your locker. The German pulled out the stack of exams once again, ready to continue grading them, if you didn’t annoy him again. As he kept marking the papers, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Not only were you making him a cup of coffee, but you also seemed to be decorating it. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, you were writing something on a piece of paper.

When you returned, you placed the mug in front of him. It had “Bee positive” written on it, and it was decorated, of course, with a little bee making a heart with its tiny hands. As if that wasn’t enough, you had somehow managed to create an impressive amount of cream, topped with a smiley face that looked like it had been made with cinnamon.

Then, as you took a seat beside him, you slid a note his way, the one he assumed you had been writing earlier.

“Even if you’re having a gray day, remember that you can always make the sun shine! Sincerely, your very own little Miss Sunshine,” followed by a heart and, unsurprisingly, a bunch of smiley faces.

He didn’t know what to say. His eyes, however, when they met yours, seemed to say everything.

“You know, maybe all you need is just a new approach.”

Your sudden change of topic, spoken as you took another bite of your chocolate cupcake, threw him off a little. But he preferred it over the uncomfortable silence you both knew was bound to settle in.

“I’ve already tried, Y/N.”

“Have you tried bribing them?”

Seb narrowed his eyes, impressed and clearly not convinced by what you had just suggested.

“I’m not going to bribe my students, Y/N.”

“Not even by making them work in teams and offering extra credit?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “Have you considered bringing cookies and handing them out? That works incredibly great as a positive reinforcement, trust me”

“I’m not giving my students cookies or anything else,” Seb stated firmly. “I don’t know what to do with them, and that’s what worries me the most. What if I start acting like, no offense, a Primary school teacher, when they’re only two years away from university?”

You shook your head. It annoyed you that Sebastian was so… rigid, so unwilling to change. But what annoyed you even more was that you couldn’t seem to find the right way to help him.

“If you help me with the biodiversity project and actively participate in it, I promise I’ll find a way to make sure all your kids pass the remaining exams this year,” you proposed.

“And what exactly does a primary school teacher know about teenagers and History?”

“First of all, stop being so grumpy with me… I’m just trying to help you!” You huffed, crossing your arms. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and honestly, neither were you. Sebastian straightened in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Second, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not sharing them until you agree with helping me with the project.”

“Y/N…”

“What is it? What you don’t like: bees, seven-year-olds, or me?"

“I don’t like bees that much, I love being around little kids, and I’m completely captivated by you.”

That was what Sebastian wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent, absentmindedly playing with the coffee spoon while staring at the note you had written for him.

“You do realize how many exams I still have to grade, right?” was all he managed to reply.

“Seb, you need to relax. I’ve told you before, but I’ll keep saying it as many times as necessary until you actually listen to me.”

“I can’t relax,” Vettel muttered, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to read that…?”

You didn’t let him time to finish speaking. You approached him faster than you’d planned, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. At first, Seb was completely caught off guard, but then he placed his right hand on your neck, pulling you closer and making sure the contact between you didn’t break.

Sebastian wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner, while you were more than happy to finally have the courage to take the initiative, especially since it seemed like your work crush was responding with a lot of enthusiasm.

The lack of air forced you to pull away. You readjusted yourself in your seat and couldn’t help but laugh when you saw your lipstick smeared all over Seb’s mouth.

“Did you just…?” Seb tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again,” you kissed him once again, but this time it was shorter. “Sebastian Vettel, I need you to stop worrying about those fucking exams and take a break.”

Now, Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling, and that’s exactly when you knew you had won that battle.

“You’re so lucky you’re too cute and beautiful and you’re keeping me at my feet somehow, because I swear I wouldn’t stop talking and be annoying just for you to shut me up by kissing me.”

Your eyes lit up at his tease, and your mouth opened in surprise at what Seb had just confessed.

“Sorry, did you just call me cute and beautiful, and also say you want me to shut you up by kissing you?” you pressed him.

Seb didn’t know what to say. His cheeks started to turn red out of embarrassment.

“If I’d known this was going to happen between us, I should’ve asked you to work together waaaay sooner!” you shouted, jumping up in excitement and sitting on his lap. If he hadn’t grabbed you tightly around the waist and balanced the chair, you would’ve ended up on the floor. “Say it again, come on!”

“No way I’m repeating that, Y/N.”

“Please, Seb,” you pouted, then kissed him all over his face. “Just one more time, please…”

“No.”

“Please…”

“Y/N…”

“Seeeeeeebastian.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Seb started, “but, somehow, you’re also my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

You smiled brightly at his words, but you knew this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

“I’m not your Little Miss Sunshine yet. At least, not officially,” you teased.

“Oh, really?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll be when you finally have the courage to ask me on a date,” you replied cheerfully, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him once more. “I’ve taken the first step and kissed you not once, but twice, so now it’s your turn. We’ve got to work as a team, Seb. Haven’t you learned that all these years working as a teacher?”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Little Love Notes | Bang Chan 

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader  

Summary: Chan's girlfriend likes to leave him little notes.  

Warnings: It just fluffy. I have written a little drabble similar to this but wanted to switch it around so it's reader leaving him little love notes. This is a repost from my now deactivated blog. More of an explanation in my pinned post.

Word Count: 482 

Stray Kids Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

Chan's heart swelled with warmth as he read the little note once again. The words are written on a bright yellow post-it note which was stuck to his laptop lid. It was a simple sentence, but it meant so much to him.  

"Have a great day, my love. Don’t be too hard on yourself."   

The last couple day’s he’d been a little hard on himself because he couldn’t get a part of the latest song they’ve been working on right. No matter how he mixed it, with and without Changbin and Jisung’s help, he couldn’t seem to get it sounding like he envisioned in his mind.   

Taking a moment before he goes back to the song that’s becoming a headache, he remembers back to when Y/N left him the first note she ever left him. They had just moved in together when he found a post-it note stuck to the screen of his phone, with ‘I love you’ written on it. From that day on, Y/N made it her mission to leave him little love notes around their apartment. Some days they just said I love you and other days they’d be a small paragraph reminding him how loved he is, or how lucky she is to have him. Sometimes they would be sweet little reminders for him to take breaks, or to go easy on the guys and stuff like that. When he went away, whether it be in South Korea or overseas, the little notes would continue. He’d find them on in his bag, in the pocket of a random hoodie or pair of pants, and on his electronics. He even found one wrapped around his toothbrush, one time.   

The guys often tease him about the notes, but he doesn't care. He loves these notes more than anything because they are a physical representation of her love for him. It’s his and Y/N’s little thing they have that doesn’t involve anyone else. He loves it and would be sad if she ever stopped writing them.  

As he opens his laptop, he chuckles to himself when he finds another note in his girlfriend's handwriting. ‘Can we please have McDonald’s for dinner?’  

He puts the notes somewhere safe so he can add them to the growing collection, filling his desk drawer at him. Grabbing his phone, he pulls up his messages with Y/N, and types out his reply to her notes.  

‘You have a good day too. I’ll pick up McDonald’s on my way home tonight. I love you so much x.’  

He puts his phone to the side and boots up his laptop to get started working on the newest 3racha song.  

It doesn’t take long before his phone buzzes, notifying him that he has a new message. When he checks it, he smiles, seeing it’s from Y/N.   

‘I’ll message you my order later. I love you so much too, baby xxxxx.’ 

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated. 

©️ 2024 CRAZYFORMFICS. NO ONE HAS PERMISSION TO COPY, TRANSLATE AND/OR POST MY FICS ON HERE OR ANY OTHER SITE.

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups

[nhl-stories]

Pride Hockey Fic Recs

Hoping to make a list this June featuring some fics people have written featuring queer (preferably main) characters.

I haven't read a ton myself, but I've written a fair amount. So, for the list not to be just self-promotion please send me any recs you have read or written about

[changbunnies]

Mint (18+)

♡ Pairing: Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp

♡ Word Count: 2.7k

♡ Summary: It's the little things your boyfriend says and does that fills you with love for him; and you'll take any opportunity, no matter how small and mundane, to shower him with the love he deserves.

♡ Smut Warnings: light d/s dynamics (switch!bin and reader), vaguely plus size reader (because i am nothing if not self indulgent), light nipple play, oral (m rec), some begging from bin because i literally cannot stop myself from writing it lmfao

♡ Notes: this was supposed to just be a binnie drabble because it's been too long since i last wrote for him and i miss him, but i got a lil carried away as usual :') this is valentine's day fic in spirit only, there's really nothing thematically that makes it suit vday lol i truly just wanted to write something fluffy for bin even if it was small and plotless <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

It starts with a giggle; the bashful kind Changbin always fails to suppress when you start kissing him stupid. They’re simple, repeated little pecks, and you can feel him trying not to smile too hard, lest you end up kissing his teeth instead of his lips.

His lips are as sticky as they are plump and soft, the result of a combination of indulging in strawberries & cream hard candies, and his healing mint chapstick. The taste is pleasant, and your own lips tingle from the healing mint transferring to you, as well as growing sufficiently sticky from having a candy of your own before kissing him.

He doesn't know what brought the kiss attack on, but there's nothing he loves more than being doted on and feeling your affection, so he happily (and greedily) takes all the kisses you offer him.

Still, Changbin's curious– so when there's a small lapse in the kisses due to your need to take a breath, he asks; "Why are you attacking me, baby?"

The question is spoken with evident joy, the hints of his previous giggles still lingering in his voice. And there's no "reason" per se– all he'd done was sit there on the couch with you, in his cute cable-knit sweater with his tamed (but still ever so fluffy) hair and wire-frame glasses, eating candy.

It wasn't so much a particular action he took, or a special instance out of the norm that caused you to bombard him with love. There was no grand gesture of affection, no pre-planned romantic intent, no shameless display of affection. Changbin loves to do those things, certainly, but this wasn't that kind of moment.

You were simply in your shared apartment, cuddling under your couch's designated throw blanket as you watched a movie together post-dinner, snow falling peacefully on the cityscape outside your windows. When you were shopping for ingredients to make dinner tonight, he couldn't resist grabbing a bag of candy when he noticed it on sale– because who doesn't love a treat when it's discounted?

And it was all made better by knowing they were a favorite of yours too– so when he tore open the bag, full to the brim of small, individually wrapped candies, he took one for himself before eagerly tilting the bag in your direction to take one. Changbin watched you take it with a sweet smile, turning back to the tv before unwrapping another candy to pop into his mouth; and the simple domesticity of his affection was reason enough.

He turned to you when you called his name, a question lingering on his lips as he felt you inch closer; did you want another candy? Did he accidentally leave the bag too far out of your reach? But within seconds, you were surprising him with a kiss.

It took him off guard, you could easily tell by the squeak he let out, but the corners of his mouth curling into a smile before he returned the kiss told you he was more than happy with it.

"Because I love you," you answer his question earnestly; it was all you thought as you pulled yourself closer to him, the only words lingering in your mind as you hastily pressed your lips to his.

A tiny blush crawls over Changbin's features as he smiles, as full and radiant as it ever is when you dote on him. His eyes squint beneath his glasses, his adorably round nose scrunching, and you can't help but smile too; his joy is infectious, after all.

And perhaps in some ways it's silly, but it's always the small actions he takes that remind you of how in love you are with him. It's always moments like now, when you're relaxing together, at peace and comfortable in his presence in a way you are with no other, that your heart swells with love for your boyfriend the most.

Slow moments, where you can really appreciate the man beside you, when the full weight of your affection for him can settle over you like a warm, fuzzy blanket. Moments where any problem you have melts away, fading to the background because Changbin is with you, and that's all you need to be okay. 

And for Changbin, it doesn’t matter if it’s the 1st, 100th, or 1000th time you’re kissing him– it always sparks something in him. He isn’t greedy about many things, but when it comes to you– that’s a different story entirely; he’ll hold you tight and endlessly drink in all you're willing to give him. 

Your lips taste similar to his– a more muted, subtle version of strawberries, cream, and mint; he indulges in it, his hands finding their way to you and leaving the bag of candies forgotten to the side. He hums pleasantly when you crawl your way onto his lap, obediently parting his lips when he feels your tongue slide against them.

It doesn’t take long for him to start chubbing up beneath his cream-colored pants– and how could he not? You’re in his lap, kissing him deep and slow, with your fingers in his hair. They glide easily through his soft, straightened hair, and while you can’t help but miss his natural curls, you do appreciate your fingers not tangling in them and pulling. 

Changbin would like it, you know– he’s strong enough to manhandle you without breaking a sweat, can flip you and hold you into any position and make you take it with ease; but in the same breath, he’s pliable, ready and eager to be molded into whatever you need him to be. He loves his body, and his strength, and the squeals he can draw out of you by using it– but what he loves even more is being good to you. 

But this moment isn’t about that– you aren’t looking to take control, nor to make your lover meek and pliant; it’s about showing him the depth of your love for him in the only way you can when words fail you. What else can you do when saying “I love you” doesn’t feel like enough? When the heat that’s building in your chest will burst if you don’t kiss him and kiss him and kiss him?

He isn’t hard enough for his erection to quite be “obvious” in his loose pants yet, but you’ve been with Changbin long enough to see when he’s getting worked up. His breaths come out harsher, and the pink tint to his cheeks spreading to his ears paired with the quickened beating of his heart you can feel just beneath your fingertips tell you all you need to know.

He has a dazed, lovesick look in his eyes when you pull away from him, paired with a goofy, beaming smile. “I’m so lucky,” he breathes as he hugs you, the squeeze so tight it almost feels like it could crush you– but Changbin knows the limit. “I’m crazy about you– you know that right? I love you so much.” 

You’re effectively trapped in his arms, but that’s no problem for you– you return his hug, giggling as he returns your affections. Your soft laugh delights him, and he shows it by peppering your cheeks in chaste kisses before moving on to your neck. 

“Bin, that tickles,” you whine between your laughter, his hands squeezing you as you squirm in his grasp. He laughs too, lifting his head to meet your eyes with the downturned smirk that tells you he’s amused.

He thinks to tease you; playfully peck you over and over whilst saying you attacked him first, so it’s only fair– but it melts away when you tenderly reach to his face, cupping it in your hands. Your thumbs resting on his full cheeks, you kiss him again, soft and sweet. It effectively turns him to putty, a content sound rising from his throat as his squeeze on you loosens. 

You take the opportunity to slip a hand into his sweater, caressing his plush stomach for just a moment before bringing it to his chest. You love the way he feels– bulking muscles under soft skin, pecs strong and well-defined but so easy to squeeze in your palms. He shivers under your diligent touch, your fingers always so soft and motions so purposeful.

He keens when you tweak his nipple just the way you know he likes, and he has to make a conscious effort to stop himself from unconsciously bucking his hips up. You can feel him, fully hard beneath you now and pressing into the fat of your ass.

On another day, you might tease him about it; coo over how sensitive he is, watch him squirm as his face burns deep red. But the way Changbin looks at you, so reverent and adoring with a haze of lust, never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.

It's obvious with just a look that he's becoming needy; he’s expectant, wordlessly pleading, skin tingling with anticipation for what you’ll do next– and you’ve decided from the very start that you’ll give him anything he wants. 

“Ah–” his brain lags when you ask what he wants, if there's anything at all he'd like you to do, the air suddenly feeling heavy and thick around him. And it’s not because he’s shy, necessarily– it’s just that the loving gaze you hold for him while waiting for him to answer is making his mind feel fuzzy.

He swallows, and in the end his words are less than eloquent, but they're enough. “Your mouth– please?”

You smile at him sweetly, a shudder traveling the length of his spine when you dip your hand between your bodies to palm his cock over his pants. He sucks in a breath, shivering as you make quick work of freeing his erection from the fabric. The inside of his underwear is sticky-wet, the result of pre-cum steadily leaking from his sensitive tip.

His fists are clenched, breaths labored as he watches and waits for you to deliver on his request. You shift carefully off his lap, letting the blanket covering you both fall to the floor– along with the plastic bag of strawberries & cream candies that you entirely forgot were still there next to you. 

The clatter of them falling to the hardwood almost makes you jump, and you watch as some of the candies roll out of the bag, scattering in all directions. You stare for a moment, blink before you turn to Changbin and laugh. “I forgot,” is all you say, and he giggles with you, leaning over the couch to assess the damage. 

“We can clean it later,” he assures, grabbing your hand so you focus on him instead of on the mess. If there’s one saving grace, it’s that the candies are all individually wrapped– and you’re certain that getting your boyfriend's dick in your mouth is of much higher priority than picking up some spilled, but otherwise perfectly fine, candy. 

“Wait,” Changbin says after you sink to your knees, grabbing a cushion to place under them, “don’t want you to get hurt.” You smile and thank him warmly, getting yourself comfortable on the cushion– and he’s quick to reach to the floor where the blanket fell, wrapping it around your shoulders snuggly. 

“Changbin,” you giggle as he secures the blanket around you.

“What? I don’t want you to get cold either,” he says, and it’s so endearing you can think of nothing else to do but kiss him, just as before.

“What about you?” you ask, and he simply smiles while assuring you he’ll be perfectly fine. And you’re sure it’s true enough; Changbin tends to run hot, after all. Still, you get as much of his legs in the blanket as you can as you inch closer and settle in between his muscular thighs. 

You take his cock into your hand once more, the length short but impossibly thick in your comparably small fingers. The sight of it, leaking and throbbing as it silently pleads for stimulation, is always mouth-watering to you, and the change in your eyes is enough to make him squirm in his seat. 

You take your time planting slow, lingering kisses to his steadily leaking tip, coat your lips in his arousal and trail it down his length before slowly licking back up. You repeat– enough times to have him biting his lip and tensing his thighs, desperate pleas for something more just a breath away from being uttered. 

It’s a little cruel to tease him this way considering you said you’d give him anything he wants, but how could you resist? Still, a promise is a promise; so just before you think the thread keeping his restraint together is about to snap, and he’s ready to string together a babble of begs and pleads, you engulf his tip in your mouth. 

The relief is instant– a loud, shuddering whine leaving his lips as you lower your head, sliding the entirety of his length into your mouth. It’s always a stretch, even just for your mouth, but you’ve grown used to ignoring the ache in your jaw. He’s heavy on your tongue, but you’ve always liked that– and the moans you’re met with as you bob your head make any tenderness you’ll feel later entirely worth it. 

You can feel him tremble, the sound of your saliva pooling and dripping down his cock enough to make his head spin. Needing something to hold and ground himself, he desperately searches for one of your hands; you offer one to him quickly, let him squeeze as much as he needs once your fingers are intertwined. 

Your other hand caresses and squeezes over the meat of Changbin’s inner thigh, and his head falls back against the couch cushion, eyes closing as he releases another high pitched whine. Suddenly he feels much too hot, sweat threatening to drip from where it builds on his brow. You swirl your tongue around his cock to the best of your ability as you take it to the base, and it nearly makes him sob.

“S-So close, please–” he manages to choke out through a whimper, shivering when you hum and quicken your efforts. It’s utterly dizzying– how good your mouth feels, the salacious sounds that pour from it, the heady cry of his desperate, pleasured voice; overwhelming and baffling, almost, how a man as big and strong as him can be a weak puddle in your hands.

“Gonna cum– ‘m cumming, c-cumming for you,” he manages to stutter out just moments before his thighs and stomach clench and his eyes roll back. His back arches off the cushion as he writhes, his cum spilling down your throat, thick and pleasantly salty. The overstimulation as you continue to lick over his now softening length makes him gasp and squirm until you inevitably release his cock from your mouth with a pop, satisfied with your efforts cleaning him up.

Changbin is utterly breathless, but still quick to help you back to the couch when you move to rise; your knees ache from being stuck in the same position for so long, but it’s certainly not as bad as it would’ve been if he hadn’t offered you the cushion to rest them on. He smiles at you as you wipe the accumulated sweat from his brow, a sweet thing full of awe and adoration. 

“I love you,” he reminds you with a sappy, downturned smile and you giggle before offering him another kiss. “And,” he quickly adds, effortlessly scooping you up into his arms now that his strength has returned and his body no longer feels like jello, “we’re not done yet.” 

“Binnie!” you can’t help but squeal, clinging to him tightly as he rises from the couch with you in his arms, as if you're light as a feather. He kicks the bag of fallen candy as he walks, and you giggle as you hear more pieces rattle and roll around on the floor and out of his path; you almost want to playfully scold him for worsening the mess. 

“We can clean it later,” he repeats, as he enters your shared bedroom. He carefully lays you down on the bed, crawls over you and kisses you with all the passion and ardor he can muster. His hand traveling slowly, purposefully down your body, until it finds its home between your thighs.

There’s a whispered promise then; that you’re not leaving the bed until he makes you cum again and again.

[itsasilentreader]

♬⋆.˚ 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 — 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: bff!Jisung x fem!reader, friends to lovers

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut, fluff — 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄 ⚠︎

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 5.8K — 39 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 (whoops)

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap if before you tap it), creampie, Jisung calling reader princess, pretty and baby a lot, bad grammar and spelling as English is not my first language.

𝘼/𝙉: While I normally don't write smut, I had this idea in my head for a while now. I cringed when I wrote this and actually got the ick when I reread my work so I'm just gonna upload it without editing it. This one is for the people who als struggle with what I depicted in this fic. Hopefully, this gives y’all the representation that’s been lacking a bit in the fanfic community. Last note: i’m not accepting requests regarding smut right now. Might do it in the future, might write some fics with smut or I might not. We’ll see.

⤷ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘶𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘶𝘵.

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

It was a typical Friday night. You were spending the night at your best friend’s house again, explaining a date gone wrong… again. Hey! It’s not your fault that those men can’t make a woman come or hold out longer than three minutes.

After your failed date on Thursday, you texted Jisung immediately after your date left your house. First, he responded, “Are you stupid?”, before explaining how dangerous it is to invite someone over after the first date, especially as a woman in these times.

I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but can you blame yourself? You just wanted to be satisfied by the hands - and other parts - of someone else for once. As much as your vibrators and other toys could please you, they didn’t always leave you satisfied.

And there lies your next problem: no matter how hard you try, you can’t come more than once per session. And you need time after a session, so for you to be busy for so long, it didn’t always give you the mind-blowing orgasms you’ve heard your girlfriends talk about.

It did make you feel a bit insecure, and you started to question if something was wrong with you.

How could it be that you always hear and read about other women having so many intense and mind-blowing orgasms, and you’re lucky if you even get one, one!

And now you’ve ended up on your best friend’s couch, sipping wine and gossiping about your bad date. And maybe you have bad taste in men in general. By now, this was a tradition for the two of you.

Almost every Friday evening, and sometimes night, was spent together. Most of the time, it was just the two of you, but sometimes some friends joined your wine night.

Decompressing after dates, good and bad, was something you’d always done with Jisung since you’d met.

You met Jisung in college. He walked into the classroom you were in, waiting for the lecture to start. Cute was the first thing that came to mind when you saw him with his messy hair and black glasses.

As the room didn’t have a lot of free seats left, Jisung decided to sit next to you. Smiling shyly, he introduced himself before getting his laptop out of his bag.

You introduced yourself as well, and that’s when the conversation slowly started. You learned that this was the first class he had without his other friends who followed the same course.

When the professor walked in and began his lesson, you heard Jisung curse under his breath. “Is everything okay?” You had asked, and concern was clearly shown on your face. He gulped before slowly closing his laptop.

“Eh, well—,” he started, his boba eyes looking at you. “This is not the professor I’m supposed to have for this class right now. So I’m thinking, just a wild guess, that I’m not in the right class.”

You clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles while shaking your head. “This is an intro to visual art and film,” you said as your giggles escaped. He let out a sigh and pursed his lips. “I’m supposed to be in the intro to musical arts…” Jisung trailed off as he tried to quietly pack his bag.

You watched him try to gather his things as quietly as he could before standing up. His whole body froze when he stood up, and the chair he sat in scraped against the floor like nails on a chalkboard.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the shy brunette boy with the black-framed glasses. From your seat, you saw a pink blush creeping up his neck and face.

“Is there a reason you’re interrupting my class?”, you heard your professor ask Jisung. He didn’t know what to do and remained frozen in his place.

Your hand covered your mouth again before giggling. Quickly, you whispered to him, “You need to walk out of the classroom now, or you need to sit down.” With his eyes locked on yours, he’d hung his head and sat back down, too embarrassed to move his legs and walk out of the room with all eyes on him.

Shaking your head with a smile, you turned your attention back to the professor. His eyes stayed on your neighbour for a few seconds longer before he continued his lesson. You’d decided to write little notes to Jisung in an attempt to get his mind off of the embarrassing position he was in earlier, and it worked.

During the lecture, you kept passing notes back and forth. Eventually, you wrote down your number, quite bashfully, with the words ‘in case you need a study buddy’.

Jisung took you up on that offer and your little study dates (though you wanted them to be real dates) turned into hang-out sessions, which turned into a beautiful friendship with your best friend.

Yes, you’ve wondered about Jisung. A lot. But you couldn’t blame yourself, he was gorgeous and one of the best people in your life. He was funny, and his personality lit up the whole room. He’d make you feel safe and loved, even if it was just platonic.

But, oh, how you wished it could be more. Hiding your feelings deep inside, locked away in your heart with the key thrown out, you’d continued to build this friendship with him. Having him in your life as your platonic best friend was better than not having him in your life at all.

That led you to this moment. Now, sitting on his couch, you tuck your feet under you. You take another sip — or rather, gulp — of your wine.

“I’m telling you, Ji, it was awful,” you let out as you took another sip. Setting your glass back down on the coffee table in front of you, you take out your phone to search for the message your date had left you.

“He finished in a few minutes and didn’t even bother to help me get off,” you said to Jisung. The latter one rolls his eyes at your statement before adding, “Men.” Giving him a knowing look, you continued.

“He luckily went home soon after, because I just couldn’t stand to be around him any longer,” you said again, frustration clear in your voice. You reach for your wine glass again and take another gulp.

“He messaged me later to say it wasn’t going to work out,” you add, rolling your eyes.

“I had a fun time, but I think it was just a one-time thing for us. We just weren’t vibing on the same level, and your sexual performance was not at the standard I am used to from my bed partners. I wish you all the best.”

At these words, Jisung’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?!” He exclaimed, almost spilling his wine out of surprise and, most of all, shock. “He actually said that?”

You nod vigorously before adding, “I know! As if it were my fault, he couldn’t get me off and lasted only a staggering four minutes.” At that, Jisung let out a snort before shaking his head.

“Maybe you just need to use some toys during sex; it does wonders,” Jisung speaks up after a minute. Your head snaps to his with a questioning look. “What? I do it often with my dates,” he shrugs at you before refilling his glass of wine and topping off yours as well.

“I mean, you don’t have to, of course, if you’re not comfortable with it. But in my personal experience, it feels really good.” Again, the questionable look is back on your face as you stare at him. Not trying to let your thoughts run wild about Jisung using sex toys on his partners or himself.

“Like, there is this magic wand, right? You know what that is, right?” He begins to ramble, you giggle softly and nod. Jisung continued, “Okay, so I know a lot of girls like to use that during masturbating, but also during sex. Maybe you should try that out.”

He wasn’t wrong. You have never tried it out during sex because either your partners didn’t want to try it with you, or you had a one-night stand, so you didn’t have your own toys at hand.

Maybe you should try it out sometime. Hopefully, your next bed partner will be open and willing to try with you.

“Okay, so since we’re already spilling the beans here, I mean, I’ve tried a magic wand on myself before,” Jisung spoke up, still sipping on his wine in between words, letting them sink into your mind. “Really?”

“Yeah, I bought one for myself after the first time trying it. Still use it sometimes,” his eyes back on yours, as if he was telling you the most normal thing in the world while your mind ran wild with the thoughts of Jisung pleasuring himself with a sex toy, as he gave you more information from these images in your head.

“Do you also feel it when you’re inside?” You couldn’t help but ask him, intrigued by the way he’s so casual about this. You feel yourself get a little bit aroused, thinking about using sex toys and your best friend telling you how you could use them.

He nods excitedly and says, “I do, I can’t speak for other men, but I love it. It’s a little bit of extra pleasure on top of the pleasure I’m already feeling.” You nod at his words, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the images of Jisung kept popping up in your head.

“So yes, I definitely recommend that. Maybe it’ll work for you, though.” He is gulping his wine now as he finishes his train of thought about using a magic wand on yourself. Because even though you think he’s so casual about it, Jisung is actually losing his mind.

Yes, you two are best friends, but still. He feels vulnerable with the information he had laid bare, not that you would make fun of him for it. Of course, you wouldn’t do that, ever. But it was a piece of information about himself he’d rather keep to himself.

Why does he have to have a big mouth that speaks before he thinks?

You giggle at the antics of your friend before sipping on your wine again. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the Spotify playlist softly playing in the background. The silence makes you fall back into the train of thought you had before coming over to Jisung’s place.

Maybe it was you that was the problem. You can’t come during sex, and even if you masturbate, you often fail to come more than once. It shouldn’t be that hard to do. Even with a sex toy, right?

Maybe you were broken after all.

Just like your ex had said. And the one before him too. Maybe it was your fault that you couldn’t do something so… so natural? Maybe-

“Hey, where did you go?” You feel Jisung nudge you with his hand. His movement made you snap out of your thoughts. “It’s just-,” you started, looking down at the almost empty glass in your hands.

“Maybe it is me that is the problem y’know. Almost nobody has ever made me cum, let alone cum during sex. Maybe it is me,” you whispered out to Jisung.

The words he heard he could not quite believe, hearing you blame yourself. He wants to let you know it’s okay, and that it works differently for everyone else, as all bodies are different.

Perhaps it is a bit more difficult for you to get that relief after building up pleasure, but it seems like you need someone who would be happy to help you with this journey of discovery. Someone like Jisung.

Jisung would be more than willing to help you, his beautiful best friend. From the moment you’d met, he harboured a small crush on you. It might have started as a small crush, but it grew into so much more. Even though he has all these feelings, it seemed like a romance wasn’t in the cards for you two the last few years.

So like the gentleman and good friend he is, he’d bottled up his feelings and continued to love you as a best friend up close and love you as an admirer from afar.

“It’s valid what you’re feeling about how your body works, but don’t think something is wrong with you,” he reassures you, his voice soft. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just the opening Jisung was waiting for. His words stumble out before his brain can catch on to what is happening.

“I can help you, y’know,” Jisung offers you, his words make you almost choke on the sip of wine you just took. Spluttering your wine out in a not-so-charming way, you try to come up with an answer.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he continued, setting down his own glass. He subtly scoots closer to you, his hands carefully reaching out to yours. His mind is working in overdrive while his heartbeat speeds up. This newfound adrenaline pushes him to act on the feelings he’s been keeping in for too long.

“Jisung, do you hear yourself? Why— why would you—", you stutter out. Your eyes are finding his, questioning him. His boba eyes just stared back at you and shrugged.

“You’ve been complaining about how no guy can ever satisfy you for so long. I’m just saying, I can help you out.”

Bewildered, you keep staring at your friend, questioning his motives. “And you think you can help me? Really?” You question him out loud. He tuts at your response, shaking his head lightly.

“I’m not trying to stroke my own ego here, really, but most of my bed partners have expressed that I know how to make a girl cum, hard.”

Again, you have thought about it before. Quite a few times, actually, your best friend was gorgeous. Despite the fact that you might not want it because he is still your best friend, it occasionally happens just like that.

Often it was already too late to stop your thoughts and your best friend was starring in your fantasy what helped you come, if it would happen.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do. I just want to help you out. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Y/N. You’re a catch, and everyone is lucky if only you give some of your attention to them. I want to make you realise that you are much more than a hook-up or a few dates.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and charged, but with a hint of excitement. You couldn’t deny the tension that was built up with just a simple statement from Jisung.

I can help you.

He sees your eyes glaze over with lust and his pulse quickens. The words are still swirling through your mind, but your eyes already tell him everything he needs to know. Still, he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Do you want that too, princess?”

The pet name was rolling off his tongue so easily, that it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. It also made you wonder what else he could do with his mouth.

Your head already spinning at the thought of what he could possibly do to you, you nod shyly. “Yes, please.”

Scooting closer to you, The side of his body pressed against yours. Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His hand comes up to your face, holding it carefully while searching your eyes for any doubts or signs of distress. “Please, Ji,” you plead. “Please kiss me.”

The sound of your sultry voice asking — begging him — to kiss you went straight to his dick. Lust clouds his mind, and if he wasn’t out of his mind before, he certainly is now.

With his hand still holding your face tenderly, he pulls you in for a soaring kiss. Feeling his lips on yours makes you dizzy, and lustful.

Your hands wander from his neck to his chest, and you feel the muscles under his black shirt that you love so much on him. His hands start to wander, too. First, you feel his hands skim over your breasts, grabbing the flesh as if his life depended on it. His hands wander further down towards your sweatpants.

With his fingers toying with the waistband of your sweatpants, you feel him move past it. With his hand in your sweatpants, he cups your heat over your panties. You let out a gasp against his mouth, before kissing him deeper than before.

Lightly pressing a finger against your clothed core, your body immediately reacts to his featherlight touch. “So responsive,” he purrs against your mouth, before giving you another soaring, open-mouthed kiss that makes you feel butterflies.

“Jisung, please,” you pleaded with him. “I love it when you beg for me, even though I haven’t really done anything to you yet.” In response to his words, you let out another gasp as he finally pulled your panties aside and dipped his fingers between your folds.

“Hm, so wet already, pretty girl?” He teases you with his words, and with his fingertips.

“I haven’t done anything besides kissing you, and you’re already this wet?” He teases you further. You huff out in frustration and wiggle in his embrace. Your hips bucked up to his hands, just to feel his fingers inside of you, or something — anything.

Capturing your lips in another hot kiss, his fingers finally slip fully into your pussy. He immediately gets to work, and he watches as you let out an erotic gasp. The urge to have his way with you became stronger as he felt you clench around his fingers and your eyes roll back. You clung to him as he pumped his fingers in and out, your slick spreading and making obscene noises along with your moans.

You feel your arousal dripping down as Jisung keeps his fingers working you open. “Fuck, Ji,” you cry out in pleasure. As you hold onto him, your back arches from the couch. Jisung pulls your mouth to his again, swallowing all those pretty, erotic noises coming from you.

“I can’t wait to be inside you, pretty girl,” he says, nipping at your mouth, and down to your neck. It felt like your skin was on fire, everywhere his mouth touched it. Blissed out, you look at him with half-lidded eyes. If him fingering you on his couch feels this amazing already, you couldn’t wait for how it would feel if he finally buries himself in your pussy.

“I really want to use a toy on you and your pretty pussy, show you how it can feel. Make you cum with it.” His vulgar words went straight to your wet core. Taking your bottom lip into your mouth, you bit on it, hard. Nodding your head in response to his words.

Jisung occasionally slips out his fingers to rub your clit. The alternation of feeling his fingers stretch you open and putting pressure on your clit made you whine out in arousal. The pleasure keeps building in your lower belly.

Up, up, up...

But still, not enough to have you see stars and give you that orgasm you’ve been thinking about since Jisung started talking about using sex toys.

Jisung sensing your frustration, slows down the pace of his fingers but still gives enough pressure to feel the pleasure of it. “It’s okay, princess. I’m gonna get you there, don’t worry about it, pretty.”

He slips out his fingers, and the loss of contact makes you whine. His eyes remain on yours as he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them in. His eyes close as he feels the intoxicating, sweet, and tangy taste of your arousal on his tongue. Watching him, you moan at the erotic scene in front of you.

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth with a ‘pop’, he pulls you onto his lap. His eyes were on yours, filled with lust, but also something else you couldn’t decipher yet. His hands wander up your body, and he pulls you to his mouth. His lips capture you in a sweet and heavy kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

Making out with him, still aroused, you start to grind your hips down onto his. His hands quickly grab your hips to help you set the pace, as your already wet and sticky panties become even wetter than before.

With your hands gliding through his hair, you grip it as if your life depended on it. And maybe it does feel that way at that moment because being so close and intimate with Jisung makes you feel tingly all over. It felt like you were floating, and even the slightest friction between your heat and his groin let pleasure ripple through your body.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head. Letting him help you out of your shirt, he throws it somewhere in the living room, not caring where it landed at this moment.

He’d ridden himself off his shirt, too, as his mouth was back on yours again. As you try to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, he parts from your mouth. Heavy breathing is heard, and he softly pushes you off of him.

Feeling the need to hold you and touch your skin, he did so as he stood up from the couch. With his eyes on yours, he pulls down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers, the last a layer restraining his cock.

The outline of his cock already has you drooling. Knowing he’s skilled with his fingers makes you very excited to find out what he could do with his cock. And you will find out soon enough.

Lunging forward again to kiss you and hold you, he’d let you back to his bedroom. His hands pull down your sweatpants as you clumsily step out of them, holding onto his muscular shoulders.

Reaching his bedroom, he pushes the door open. Not wasting time, he gets you onto his bed seconds after stepping into the room. Lustful eyes bore into yours as his fingers teasingly pulled your panties down.

Disregarding your panties over his shoulders, he stares in awe at your body. Spreading your legs with his hands, he looks at your body as if you hung the moon and the stars. Getting flustered, you try to hide yourself from him, even though you have nothing to be ashamed or flustered about.

“Don’t hide pretty,” his voice dripping with sweetness and his mouth watering at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him. “Just one taste,” he murmurs before kissing your clit. He sticks his tongue out and flattened it against your wet hole, rolling back his eyes in pleasure.

Seeing Jisung lose himself and feeling his wet muscle against your aching pussy, pleasure shudders through your body. Your hands are gripping his hair, making him groan against your core. The vibration of his groan, together with him licking up all your arousal and eating you out like a starved man, makes your toes curl and your head dizzy.

The familiar pleasure of your orgasm creeps up again, but it still feels so far out of reach. Jisung kept licking and slurping at your aching pussy, and the feeling intensified, but it never seemed to finally snap.

Bucking your hips out of frustration up to his face, almost riding it, Jisung lets you take the lead. Honestly, he was just happy to be here. With his face between your legs, get used by the prettiest girl who has his whole heart, even if you don’t know it, yet.

Seemingly getting more frustrated by the second, as the tension was fading away and the pressure of your orgasm seemed to lessen, Jisung gave you one more lick before parting. He needs to help you get to your high, and show you that you can do it. And he also couldn’t wait any longer to be inside of you.

Wiping his mouth, he speaks up, “On your knees princess, let me take care of you.” He nods his head to turn around. With heavy eyelids and a lust-filled body, you get up and turn around. Jisung quickly turns to his dresser to get the toy he wants to try on you — the magic wand.

Before you can get on your hands and knees, Jisung’s hands softly push you forward. Your elbows catch your upper body as you feel the mattress dip behind you.

You feel his hands run up and down your body, while he leaves hot kisses all over your spine. He grabs at everything he can, your soft skin feels heavenly in his hands.

Then Jisung grabs his cock at the base and slides it between your wet folds. With his thumb, he spreads out the wetness around the head of his cock, before pumping himself a few times.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess, make you see stars,” he says huskily, as he lines up his cock with your anticipating entrance.

As he eases his cock into you, a twinge of pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure. With your eyes rolling back and your mouth agape, he begins to thrust his hips forward softly before bottoming out. “You good baby?”, he asks while his hands hold you softly. You nod and reply with a muffled hmm before Jisung picks up his pace and starts to pound into you.

The sound of skin slapping on skin mixed with your moans, and his groans fill up his room.

His hands roam over your body, from your ass to your shoulders. The touch of his fingertips makes you feel tingles and adds to the pleasure you already feel. You feel his hands push your shoulders down, so now you lay on the bed with your upper body. Your face is in his pillow, catching all your moans.

Pleasure shudders through your whole body as you feel Jisung filling you even deeper than before. His pace doesn’t falter once. With his hands back at your lower back, he pulls you back on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans out. You turn your head so you can look over your shoulder, just enough to see Jisung throw his head back while biting his lip. His grip on your sides grows stronger as his thrusts become harder and harder. “You’re so fucking tight, princess.”

“Ji, please, please,” you moan out, your hands trying to grab anything they can to hold you steady. Twisting your upper body just enough so you could see him, you see him smirk. Leaning down to kiss his way up your shoulder blades, his right-hand grabs your hair. He pulls just hard enough to lift your head up from his pillow.

“I wanna hear those pretty moans when you come around my cock, princess,” he says, leaving another burning kiss on the back of your neck. “Turn your toy on and press it against your clit baby,” he says — or rather demanded.

Scrambling up on your elbows, his hips still meet yours with sharp thrusts. He doesn’t stop his brutal pace, instead, he keeps going. You gasp out at his thrusts, and you can barely grab the toy. Fiddling with it, you try to find the button to turn it on while pleasure is still soaring through your body.

Finally finding the button to turn it on, you press it and the toy comes to life. The vibrations are already making you feel jittery. You lean forward on his bed again, getting comfortable on your upper body. Your head to the side, while you took your lower lip between your teeth. With shaky hands, you carefully press the toy to your clit.

The feeling of the vibration mixed with Jisung’s cock filling you up just right made your eyes roll back, and your mouth hang open. Jisung never heard a more pornographic moan and couldn’t believe he was the one making you feel this way—with the help of the beloved magic wand.

It might be the alcohol, or maybe the love you’ve always felt for Jisung, but this is the best feeling you’ve ever felt. When he said he’d take care of you — he meant it.

His hands grip your ass as he keeps thrusting into you at a brutal pace. With furrowed eyebrows, you try to listen to your body. Yes, you feel immense pleasure from both being filled up and the vibrations on your clitoris, but you wonder if the feeling of your orgasm will build up anytime soon.

Jisung feels your body stiffen, just a tiny bit. But it was enough for him to notice you aren’t fully letting yourself go and enjoy the pleasure you feel. Slowing his pace down, it changed to sharper and deeper thrusts instead of just pounding.

“Let go, baby, just enjoy the feeling,” he gritted out. And you try, you let the bliss feeling overcome you. The dragging of his cock against your walls feels heavenly, as you focus on the vibrations the toy gave you.

Hearing his groans and feeling his soft hands gripping you so tight it might bruise the next day, you finally feel that familiar feeling building up.

“What do I need to do for you? Hm?” he huffs out, dragging your body back onto his cock. You moan out in satisfaction of the feeling. “How can I make my princess feel good, hm?” He grunts out, grabbing your hair at the back of your head and lifting your head again so he could bite and suck on your neck.

Your flushed face with your mouth hanging open, letting out little gasps of pleasure, imprints on his retina so that he will never forget this sight of you.

Jisung flooded all your senses. His touch, his mouth on your skin, and his hot breath in your ear grunt out your name over and over again, leaving you with goosebumps.

Grabbing the sheets with your free hand, so hard that your knuckles turned white, you moan out, “Just like that, baby.”

Rolling back your eyes and burying your face into his pillow, you feel yourself drool onto his pillowcase. The tension in your lower tummy is becoming stronger and stronger, and you feel your legs beginning to shake. “Jisung, oh god, please— right there.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt so close to the edge, and your orgasm was creeping up on you.

“Let go, pretty girl, come all over my cock. Make you feel so good.” keeping his brutal pace, your orgasm suddenly plummets through you. Shaking and mouth-agape, you moan out Jisung’s name like a mantra in a high-pitched moan.

The feeling of being so full with his cock and the vibrations of your toy intensified your orgasm, creating black spots in your vision.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the intense pleasure you feel throughout your whole body, as if ecstasy is running through your veins.

And all because Jisung suggested using a toy to stimulate your clit as he’d fuck you.

You feel like your prayers had been answered, and you finally had someone making you feel so fucking good, and that being Jisung made this experience even better.

Shit, you think. You might be in love with him.

Jisung fucks you through your intense orgasm. Feeling your walls convulse around his cock while he fucks you through your high, the vibrations bring him closer to his release, too. You’d let him use your body to chase after his own release, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, where do you want me to cum, baby?” He grits out as he keeps his pace. He had rather seen your beautiful face contort in pleasure when you were brought over the edge, but that would happen another time. After feeling you so tight around him, his body begged him for a release.

“Inside Ji, please come inside of me,” you slur out, still dazed from your orgasm. Fully relaxing your body, you feel Jisung thrust roughly into you a few times more, before groaning loudly in your ear. “Fuck-”, his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as he comes down from his high.

You feel his hot mouth on your back again, leaving soft and gentle kisses while whispering how good you’ve been for him. He caresses your back as he softens and slips out of you. Falling on the mattress, he pulls you close to him, laying on your side. Draping your arm around his chest, you feel your erratic heartbeat calm down.

His release still dripping out of you between your legs, but he doesn’t care if his sheets get stained with it.

“How was that?” Jisung asks you as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. He is running his hands through your hair, and getting some of the lost, sticky strands of hair out of your face.

You let out a deep breath and look at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “So good, so, so good, Ji.” At your words, a cocky smile appears on his lips. “I knew I could make you feel good pretty,” he answered as he gave you another kiss on your head.

“Thank you… For doing this,” you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Always, baby, for you always.”

“If you want to try more things, I’m your guy! But preferably, I would be the only one you’d try them with?” Jisung whispers out the last part, causing your heartbeat, which had just finally become a normal pace after this intense high, to speed up again out of anticipation.

“I’d like that idea, only with you. If you would do those things only with me,” you reply softly, as you gaze up at him. His eyes are staring back at you, full of warmth, and this time you can see the love he holds for you in his eyes as well.

Nodding excitingly, Jisung leans forward to capture your lips once again in a sweet but tender kiss. Pulling away, he lets go of you and climbs out of his bed. Whining at the loss of contact, you pout at him. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can cuddle all night long.”

Snuggling back into his bed, you still need some time to process everything that had happened tonight. Who knew that ranting to your best friend about not being able to come during sex turned into the best sex of your life?

You finally feel satisfied. Not only did you finally come during sex, but you also finally have Jisung in more ways than you could ever imagine.

. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁. ܁₊ ⊹ . ܁˖ . ܁

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

[reiderwriter]

reiderwriter 5k writing challenge

hello, my lovelies, and thank you so much for 5k followers~♡ it's been just under a year since I started writing on here, and it's been so fun interacting with everyone and writing for Spencer and the other members of the BAU team! I was a bit unprepared for some of my other milestones and threw some stuff together last minute for them, but I've been thinking about a writing challenge for a while and I finally decided to do it!

Please note: This is a writing challenge! All the prompts below are meant to inspire you to write your own fics and not as prompt requests for me. I hope you can use them as a starting point to write~♡

The theme for the challenge is:

daydreams and shooting stars`☆

There are two sets of prompts to choose from! The daydreams' prompts are based on classic fanfiction tropes that we know and live, and the shooting stars prompts are based on the zodiac signs. There are 12 prompts in each list, and you're welcome to mix and match prompts as you like! Maybe you'd like to combine your star sign with your favourite trope, or two particularly match well, or if you like a single prompt, you can just write for that. I don't mind if the fic is only very loosely based on the prompt, too, do whatever you'd like!

The writing challenge will run up until my 1 year writing anniversary, July 27th, so you have plenty of time to get your fics in! I'll be reblogging all the entries, and at the end, I'll add them to a recommendation list! Be sure to tag @reiderwriter in your fic, or use the hashtag #reidersdaydreams or #reidersshootingstars in your tags! I'll be tracking both~♡ You can submit as many entries as you like!

Rules for submissions will be at the end. Please read them before submitting~♡

without further ado, here are the prompt lists~☆

DAYDREAMS

ONLY ONE BED - a true classic in the sense that I will be reading only one bed fics down to the second I take my last breath. Feel free to invert this to "too many beds," or even "no beds at all, but somehow we're still cuddling," either way, I will read it and likely enjoy it greatly.

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE - which character is grumpy, which character is sunshine? my favourite grumpy x sunshine dynamics are the gloomy character trying their best to become more sunny after a tough life 🫡

FAKE DATING - we, in the criminal minds fandom, have written possibly every undercover mission possible to make our characters make out, but I'm coming in as a simple woman to ask - please do it again 🫶

OH. OH. - the plot revelations! Give me them! The sudden moments of clarity! I'm a fan, goddammit.

IDIOTS IN LOVE - there is nothing better than two huge dumbasses falling head over heels in love with each other in an "aw shucks" kind of way. Also, I'm an idiot, representation matters.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - coffee shop AU? Soulmate AU? HANAHAKI AU? If someone could please un- or re- traumatise my favourite characters I will be eternally grateful

SECRET IDENTITY - give the character their Emily Prentiss Lauren Reynolds moment, or just make them dress like a clown for like 30 minutes. Both count.

MUTUAL PINING - This harkens back to idiots in love, but it's about the LONGING, it's about the PITIFUL STARES, it's about the BURNING PASSION.

SECRET RELATIONSHIP - my love of gossip makes me a sucker for secret relationship stories because I truly want to be in everyone's business. Character A and B are dating? Brilliant. It's a secret? BRILLIANT.

SICK FIC - your poor little meow meow has a cold. Or your poor little meow meow has been poisoned with anthrax. Or your poor little meow meow is dealing with possible symptoms of schizophrenia. Or your poor little meow meow has been shot-

PSYCHO X PSYCHO - reidams fans, this one's for you 🥰

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - half of my requests are enemies to lovers requests! Feel free to include rivals to lovers, lovers to enemies, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, or any such dynamic that your heart desires.

SHOOTING STARS:

Aries - "I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is."

Taurus - "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

Gemini - "There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

Cancer - "I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

Leo - "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."

Virgo - "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

Libra - "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."

Scorpio - "She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived."

Sagittarius - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

Capricorn - "There's a low-level, specific pain and having to accept that putting up with you requires a certain generosity of spirit in your loved ones."

Aquarius - "An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs, and then you had the urge to pass it on."

Pisces - "I think it's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional."

Rules:

I'm accepting reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fics for this challenge. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character from any fandom you write for. I assume a lot of people will stick with CM, but feel free to write for whoever you choose!

Please tag me in your entries or send the link to me in a DM. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge. Again, the tags I'm tracking are #reidersdaydreams and #reidersshootingstars ♡

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I will not endorse, nor do I want to read smut written by minors. I will check the ages of accounts posting smut.

For smut or angst fics that could include triggers, please include a content warning above the fic so we can be aware before reading!!

Enjoy!!

[bishiglomper]

I have been reading a lot of QPR/acespec/arospec Alastor fics and lemme tell you

I am so immensely greatful y'all are truly exploring his asexuality. I've never seen fics do that. I, an ace, haven't even really done that past the foundational "Yeah that's not (for) me" speculation.

Some fics really delved into his thought process and his place in the situation and its been very enlightening. Just seeing through another's take on asexuality/aromanticism has been eye-opening. I know others have confessed to finding out some things about themselves because of Alastor fanfiction.

It's true, representation does matter

Don't get me wrong, I live for the smut and seeing all the different dynamics the different ships bring. Those are fun. But there do be some big feels from some of these seemingly innocuous self-indulgent drabbles.

LET ME TELL YOU

THE YEARNING I feel after some of these characters just. Accept Alastor? For who he is and what he wants/doesn't want. Who are willing to metaphorically hold his his hand and walk him through the conficting ideas he has about himself and what he wants? I have no words for how special that is. It's so damn special, y'all are truly out there doin' the lord's work. (ノ_＜。) I luff you all so much

[softpascalito]

Comfort I Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It is summer in Austin and you long for an uneventful day with Joel. Your diabetes has other plans.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Non-Explicit / MDNI Word count: 2.6k Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort , Fluff, Diabetes, Health Issues, Diabetic Reader, (reader wears a dexcom and uses insulin pens), Guilt, Soft Joel Miller, Hypoglycemia, Forehead Kisses, Comfort

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: a huge, huge thank you to the wonderful @Rainybee17 for allowing me to learn more about diabetes and patiently answering all my questions. i have tried my best to make this oneshot a good representation and even though everyone's experience is different, i hope that someone can find themselves between these lines. smooches and happy sunday! ♡

this fic is not medical advice. if you or someone else is struggling with diabetes or if you'd like to learn more please visit the international diabetes federation or speak to your doctor.

Comfort

True to the weather forecast that you watched on TV with Joel last night, the temperatures in Austin have shot up overnight. The sun has barely risen, only a few thin streaks of light falling through the blinds that cover the window of your bedroom. Which is Joel's bedroom, really. But during the summer, it has evolved into something that feels more like yours rather than his.

You blink groggily, feeling the mattress dip beside you as Joel reaches over to shut his alarm clock off, the beeping noise that woke you dying down the moment his hand touches the button. A small noise leaves your throat in protest, your left leg still tangled between his and Joel turns back to face you. “Not today, darlin’. I gotta start goin’.”

Some days, your pouting works, keeping him in bed for a few minutes longer. But he takes his jobs seriously and you don’t blame him for wanting the heavy lifting done before the temperatures peak around lunchtime.

Joel’s beard scratches against your skin as he leans over to press a kiss to your face before he begins to carefully disentangle himself from you. His arm slides out from below you, his embrace that you were so peacefully resting in until a moment ago gone. He makes sure not to brush over the dexcom that is currently attached to your upper left arm, the white device peeking out from below the sheets. You can see him pause at the sight, his gears already turning. “Why don’t you get up too? Think I’ve got enough time to have a coffee.”

“Fine,” you groan, only reluctantly agreeing to his peace offer. It's not as good as staying in bed with him but you can always take a nap later and enjoy his presence while you have it. You peel the sheets off your body, padding over to the bathroom while you listen to Joel pull on jeans and a shirt that already has so many holes in it you don't bother to count them anymore.

You’ve settled into a comfortable routine during the summer months, even with him leaving early and coming home late. With Sarah at football camp, you have the house all to yourself, a luxury you enjoy more than you’d like to admit. You’ve spent countless days lounging in the backyard or swimming a few laps around the pool, occasionally preparing a fancy dinner for Joel or making yourself useful in any other way. He drinks coffee by his kitchen window every morning, unless he’s running late. Today, you join him, hopping up onto the counter as the sun steadily rises and the first cars are started up outside, bringing people to work.

You remind him to give you a kiss every day, despite knowing that he’d never forget. No matter if you’re in the kitchen with him or still in bed or already nose-deep in a book. Without fail, Joel Miller finds you before he leaves.

“We’re finally getting that delivery today,” Joel hums, swirling the last sips of his coffee around in his mug. “If the load ‘s good, I could get off early.”

“That would be nice,” you agree softly, rubbing the last bit of sleep out of the corners of your eyes. “Think I’ll take a dip in the pool later.”

“Then I better be home to see that,” Joel teases as he turns his back to you, washing his mug out in the sink. Then, he leans over to kiss you again and it only makes you long for him more. You’re certain he feels the same.

“You check your levels?” He hums into your neck and oh, he’s gotten smart, asking when he knows you won’t push him away.

“All good,” you reassure him. Some days, you think he is more occupied with your condition than you are, fussing over you and reminding you to track your sugar and insulin constantly. It’s gotten annoying occasionally, but you know he only does it because he cares. And if you’re being honest with yourself, that is a big part of why he has become your favorite person rather quickly.

You watch as Joel grabs his tool belt and heads out the door, giving you one little last wave. Then, you listen to the truck start up outside and the sound of the engine that slowly fades away into the distance.

“Fine,” you mutter to yourself, jumping off the kitchen counter to reach for your phone. You prefer tracking with the dexcom sensor, the device making it so easy to check your levels at all times. Today, you’re in the clear. The number inside the small circle in the app reads 110.

The blue insulin pen is waiting for you beside the fridge, placed on a small wooden tray that conveniently showed up there the first time you slept over. It holds a few small juice boxes, glucose tablets and your trusted pen.

You stare at it for a few moments, weighing it in your hands as you calculate how much you’ll need for your breakfast. Then, with practiced ease, you poke yourself with the needle, allowing the chosen amount of liquid to flow into your body.

“Ten minute warning…” You hum, putting the pen back into its place and reaching for the kitchen shelf instead. You’ve gotten much better at timing your breakfast properly, making sure that the insulin doesn’t act too fast nor too slow.

Once you’re done eating, you check the number again. 160. All fine, just like you promised Joel. Good.

It’s still early but you don’t feel like going back to bed. Thursday means the farmer’s market is happening at the local community center and for once you may be early enough to have the first pick. The fresh fruits and vegetables have a tendency to bring mouth-watering recipe ideas for dinner to your mind so you lock the front door behind you and head out.

Indeed, the stands are not yet picked over and you take your time, enjoying the nice weather and chatting with a few familiar faces. The short trip turns into a few hours and it’s only when the heat starts to press down on you below the plastic tents that you make your way back. The groceries are unloaded rather quickly and you fetch your current read, a book about a spontaneous summer love in Italy, from upstairs.

It’s been exactly the kind of uneventful day you enjoy in the summer, the one that leaves you feeling warm and tanned and thankful for pools and cool drinks. The way it should be. You have no idea that this is about to change.

The deck at the back of the Miller’s house is shaded so that you don’t feel like you’ll immediately burn up in the sun. A soft groan of relief escapes you as you stretch out on the lounge chair, opening your book to where you left off. You read about cicadas and pine trees and steady waves rolling ashore and slowly but surely, your eyes begin to droop.

***

Something is wrong. The sun is much lower than it was a few minutes ago. The front door opens and closes. Joel can’t be back yet. It’s still lunchtime.

For a moment, you think you are just too sleepy, that you are still in some kind of dream. Then, you think you’ve spent too much time in the sun. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the way you’re feeling, a bit hazy, a bit like you’re floating– it’s low sugar.

You blindly reach to your right, onto the wooden table beside you but your phone isn’t in reach. When you turn your head, you realize why. You never brought it outside. It’s still on the kitchen counter, where you left it after unloading the groceries.

Slowly, you stand, looking down to see that your legs are trembling slightly. You force them to take one step after another, coaxing your body in an attempt to stay upright. You can already hear the soft beeping noise from inside the house that alerts you to a number outside the safe range. You push past the screen door– but before you can reach the kitchen, and with it your phone, Joel reaches you.

His eyes are wide, the panic clear on his face as he holds your phone in his right hand, the alert on the display blinking in a steady rhythm, displaying a too low 63. “Did you eat?” He presses out, his free hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, steadying you. The worry in his voice is palpable and you shake your head at his question.

“Okay, okay–” The gears are turning in his head and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Okay. We need– Do you need me to get the emergency pen?”

“No,” you quickly decline. “No, it’s okay, it’s not that bad.”

You can see him weighing his options, his eyes raking over your face and your body for a moment, no doubt trying to assess your state. You know you’re shaking and that your face likely looks drained, a thin sheen of sweat covering it. His gaze turns to the kitchen next and you can see him fight with himself. Ultimately, Joel steps forward, wrapping an arm around you and leading you into the living room, his grasp not leaving you until you’re securely seated on the couch. “Can’t have you passing out now. Don’t try and stand, alright? Just … sit tight.”

He puts your phone down and rushes to the kitchen, leaving you alone with the low number on the display that almost seems to laugh at you. What were you thinking, dozing off like that?

Joel is back after mere seconds, holding up a juice box in one hand and the package of glucose tablets in the other, silently letting you choose. You point at the juice and he nods, kneeling in front of you and sticking the thin plastic straw into the pre-punched hole. “One apple juice, coming right up.” You can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than a weak smile in return.

He nudges the box into your hands and then sits patiently as you begin to drink, one of his hands coming to rest on your thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles into your skin. “15 – 15 rule, right?” Joel asks and at the look of surprise on your face, he adds; “15 grams of carbs, wait for 15 minutes. Then see if it helped?”

“Yeah,” you agree in between small sips. “Yeah, how do you know about 15 – 15?” You watch as a faint blush spreads over his cheeks but he shakes his head, dismissing the question.

“Just do. It doesn’t matter.” His motions on your leg pause as you finish your juice, allowing him to take the empty carton from you and place it on the floor behind him. “You feelin’ any better, darlin’?” You can tell by his voice that he is still anxious, his entire attention zoned in on you. You lean back into the cushions, taking a deep breath, slowly calming down. You’ve been there before, you’ve gone into low numbers. But it never gets less scary.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him because you can still feel his gaze on you. “Not like this hasn’t happened before.” The dry comment is aimed to brush him off but it seems to do the opposite.

“No. I mean, yes, but it shouldn't be happening at all,” Joel shakes his head and ow. You know you messed up but hearing it from him stings more than you thought it would.

“You try tracking every meal every day and living with this– this–” You can feel you working yourself up, anger bubbling inside you, anger more than happy to find an outlet. But then your eyes fall onto Joel's face. And you see the moment his eyes widen in sheer panic.

“No, no, god no, that is not what I meant–” He stumbles over his words in an attempt to get them out. “I wasn't blaming you, I was saying that– that it's not fair. I just hate to see you suffer, that's all.” His brown eyes remind you so much of a kicked puppy that you almost want to cry.

A soft hoot from your phone makes you both turn your heads, the number 107 popping up. Back in range. Joel sighs in relief.

“Good. This is good.” He stretches slightly, one hand pressed against his lower back. “You want a nap?”

“Just had one,” you say quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“Right,” he hums, pinching the bridge of his nose for a few moments and you know he’s thinking again, trying to figure out what to do with you. Because of course you have to make a lovely summer’s day so difficult.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t mean to ruin your evening, I know you had work–”

He cuts you off by squeezing your thigh once, shaking his head as he maneuvers himself onto the couch beside you. “Look at me, baby,” he coaxes you to shift towards him, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I never ever want to hear you apologizing for this again. It ain’t your fault, darlin’. Never was and never will be. And I’ve told you before, we’re in this together. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb, tutting quietly. His arms find their way around you and he pulls you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into the otherwise silent room.

“How ‘bout we watch one of them movies you like so much?” Joel offers when he pulls back after a few minutes, his hand still intertwined with yours. You have movie night more often than not, but usually, he doesn’t let you pick. Nor you him. It's a middle ground, one that is found after quite a bit of discussion.

“You hate them,” you argue weakly, a small laughter slipping out. You’ve tried introducing Joel to Rom-Coms, the classics, the modern ones, those that he may not at first glance recognize as such. But so far, you haven’t hit his taste.

“Not today,” he hums with a small smile. “Today I promise I’ll love them.” You both chuckle quietly and he does let you pick, not once complaining as he kneels in front of the TV to start the movie. He keeps a watchful eye on you throughout the next roughly 90 minutes, getting you a glass of water and another snack when you need it, his arm comfortably wrapped around your shoulder like he’s not quite willing to let go.

“How did you know?” You ask into the near-silence when the credits are flickering over the screen, some love song quietly playing over them. “About the rule I mean.”

“Uh, let’s see–” Joel makes a face. “Might’ve read a book or two.”

You squeeze him a bit tighter at that. Because you know that people who see Joel in his truck or at the construction site may think he’s gruff and cold. You had similar worries when your eyes first landed on him. But you know how much he cares. About Sarah and about you, about being there in whatever way he can. No matter if it’s stocking up on juice or kissing you every morning or secretly reading books so he can understand you better. He’s here for it all. And so are you. Together.

Notes: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment or a follow ♡

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE My current work in progress High School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader

Hi guys! It's already late for me but I thought about showing you a bit of the first fic of my newest project, Classroom Gossips! I'll try my best to finish writing + translating this fic so you can have it in a few hours since more people than I thought were interested in this :) Hope you like how this is going!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”