#right now it's on my bookshelf looking gorgeous!!

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Dilf!Simon, your next door neighbor, reader’s around early 20s, Simon’s around late 30s~early 40s) pt.2

Just retired and move into a new flat, Simon doesn’t expect someone to knock on his door when he’s unpacking his belongings. With slight annoyance, he opens the door and try to dismiss whoever is out there.

His annoyance vanishes quickly when he lays eyes on you, young, gorgeous, gazing up at him with a baggy shirts barely cover the sweat-shorts. The simple apron on the outside looks incredible on you, the fabric of it rises and taut around your chest. Greeting him with a grin and hand him a plate of biscuits. A welcome gift for the new neighbor, you explain to him before leaving with a wave, hips swaying tantalizingly as you saunter back to your flat and close the door behind you.

He becomes closer to you each day, helping you without a word when one day he hears noises from the staircase outside, swings open the door of his flat and discovers you struggling with the heavy groceries bags. When you sheepishly knock on his door again, holding a screwdriver and fidgeting it, telling him you have some issues with assembling the new bookshelf you bought, he already starts his steps and walks into your flat, finish the work in minutes while you circling around cutely and trying to help like a desperate puppy.

To express your thankfulness to him, you invite him to have dinner with you, become a habit of yours when he shoots you a glance with a ‘Not bad.” but devours your home cooked meal like a man starved for days.

Sweet, beautiful girl, a year before graduating from college, expressing your insecurity about your future when he hinted that you can share your worries with him—a person who has much more experience than you— a while ago, he provides some insight and rational advice, swallowing back the words he’s been thought about for months now: Slide the silver ring on your ring finger with his name name engraved on it, makes you his missus and away from all shites the society is boiling everyday. A man alone for years and has low material desires, he has the money to take care of and spoil you without any hesitation.

He’s been fisting his cock whenever he hears your moans coming from the other aide of the wall. Hell, you don’t know how shitty and thin the walls are, the soundproof ability of them is imperceptible when it comes to louder sounds. Simon listens closely to the sounds, closing his eyes, head leans back on the armchair, trying to imagine how you must be right now. Hands in sync of the squelchy sounds of you pumping your fingers in and out of that soaked pussy. His cock’s so huge, even his own palms are just big enough wrapped around the girth, and an obscene growl left his lips as your whimpers and moans turn higher and sultrier, definitely look like a goddess when you’re weeping tears, stuffing your cunny full and craving for the release. But when you finally tumble over the edge, he snaps his eyes open and groans the second his name comes out of your mouth with such honeyed tone, crying his name in need and suppressed desire.

Simon jumps up from the armchair, heavy cock forming an obvious tent when he shoves open his door and knocks on yours impatiently. “Wait-Wait me a second…!” your voice hits his ears with trembles that can’t be left unnoticed.

“ 'S what you want, love? getting bent over by a man older than you and fucked stupid? Is that so, princess?” He squeezes himself through the crack of your door, kicking it close and pinning your upper body on the shoe cabinet beside the door, your legs dangling in the air as he drives the fat tip into your entrance ferociously, tight cunt still spasming from your orgasm and makes him grunts out a curse, “Fucking screaming my name when you touch yourself, hmm? you know you can come to me anytime you need something, like I told you before.”

He gets you cry out in pleasure without any concern of receiving complaints from other neighbors, wrapping your legs back and standing between your wide-spread thighs, leaning his weight on your back while his hips rocks unrelentingly. “No more, no more…Simon!” You clenching down on his shaft so nice and hot, milking him loads after loads, the angry tip of his cock abusing every spots inside you, and your legs are shaking uncontrollably when he finally comes one last time, satiated both your needs for now, and you the last thing you feel before succumbing to slumber is a gentle kiss pressing on your twitching, overstimulated clit as his seeds flood out of your swollen pussy.

The relationship between you and him deepens since that night,and he doesn’t stop you or protest when you wear the low-cut top and cute skirt, semi-transparent thigh high stockings keeps attracting his attention to stare at the bare skin of your thighs between them and the skirt, and wave goodbye at him with an apologetic expression before heading off to a party with your college friends. He knows the importance of these social activities between youngsters, so he didn’t get mad or upset, just kiss your temple, reminded you to stay safe and call him whenever you need, then he’d be there in no time.

You sure will turn heads wherever you go tonight, and though there might be some troublesome wankers trying their luck on you, but he knows you won’t even spare them anything beside a polite nod of rejection. You’re all his, you won’t feel the same bliss and love from those young blokes of your age. No one can make you feel as good as he does, they can’t make you squirt all over the floor when he eats you out at the countertop, no one knows how to lower and disperse all your concerns and thoughts like him, with his tongue lapping your perked buds and that long cock massaging your cervix, coaxing countless orgasms out of you before you fall asleep in his embrace contently.

So when you ring him just about 2 hours later, asking if he can come pick you up at the club, he immediately hops in to his truck, pulls up at the location you texted him. He doubts how your breasts haven’t spilled out your low cut tops, but he’s definitely enjoying the view, your cheeks burning from the alcohol, pawing at his shirt and whining about how you missed him, how boring the party was and you just wanted to go home and bounce on his dick through your tipsy state.

Good that Simon parked his truck at a secluded spot, so you don’t need to wait any longer, let him bend you over the hood and kneel down behind you, tongue shoving deep inside, occasionally pulls out and prodding at your pussy to calm you down from keep pleading him to just fuck you already and rubbing his bulge when he just wants to drive you home first. “Will give you the cock you’ve been thinking all night when we’re home, sweetheart.” He speaks against your slick pussy lips before diving back to lick every drop of your sugary juices again.

[wileys-russo]

we need a dj leah fic

i know nothing about dj-ing so this is all y'all get lmao hobbies II l.williamson

"lee? baby i'm home!" you called out, kicking off your shoes and shrugging off your jacket at the door. though when you received no response you frowned, walking further into your home.

"babe? leah?" you continued to call out, popping your head into the bedroom and the living room but finding no trace of the blonde. her car was in your driveway and unless you'd missed something you weren't aware of her having an event or plans tonight.

"oh here you are." you sighed in relief finally finding her in the kitchen. "baby?" you called out, dropping your bag on the counter. "lee?" you called again, the girl bopping her head focused on something else, headphones covering her ears.

you paused for a moment eyes falling to the sliver of her abs visible where her shirt had ridden up, waistband of her boxers poking out from her pants as her tanned and toned arms flexed while she messed about with whatever was in front of her.

"leah!" you yelled louder, smacking your hand on the counter a few times as your girlfriend finally glanced up, flinching a little in shock at the sight of you stood there. "hi gorgeous, didn't hear you come in." she pulled her headphones down to her ears with a smile.

"missed you." she attached to you right away with a soft smile, attacking your face with kisses before finally rewarding you with a real one, tugging you around the counter to where she previously stood.

"yeah no wonder you didn't hear me. what the hell is all this?" you frowned seeing her messing about with her laptop and some sort of board full of buttons. "dj pad." leah gave you a toothy grin, wrapping you in a hug, your head resting against her chest as you stared down at her latest hobby.

"oh leah." you sighed as she let you go, tenderly kissing the side of your head. "what?" she smiled, ducking down to kiss you properly, sending your head into a spin as her tongue swiped your bottom lip but you forced yourself to pull away.

"you always do this!" you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter beside her laptop. "do what!" leah frowned, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow sent your way.

"you invest in some sort of hobby, do it for a week or two and then it joins your graveyard of dead interests and you move onto something else. then the cycle repeats!" you shook your head knowingly.

"i do not!" leah scoffed in offence as you now raised an eyebrow at her, jumping down from the counter. "come with me my love, let's go on a little house tour." you smiled holding our your hand, leah pulling off her headphones with a roll of her eyes and leaving them by the dj pad as her slender fingers interlocked with yours.

"example one; the hoverboard." you gestured to the item sitting abandoned in the corner of the living room, untouched for years now. "babe everyone bought those during lock down!" leah defended as you hummed.

"example two; the indoor golf set." you kicked the box sat with her trainers. "i still use that." leah protested as you fixed her with a firm look. "you've used it like four times if you're lucky."

"example three; the knitting!" leah followed you into her study as you yanked open one of her desk drawers and pointed to the abandoned bundle of wool and needles. "excuse me? i made you a blanket and that blanket was made with love." leah scowled as you shut the drawer.

"a baby blanket maybe it was like four poorly finished squares lee it could cover my ankles if i'm lucky." you chuckled moving to the large wall to wall bookshelf as leah scoffed. "psychology!" you continued, waving to the five or six huge textbooks your girlfriend was yet to even touch let alone crack open.

"hey i could still read those, that doesn't count." "but will you? signs point to no." you sighed with a shake of your head, ignoring your girlfriends hand swatting at your bum with an unimpressed huff at your tone.

"the VR goggles?" "they gave me a headache!" "the drumming pads?" "okay those were an impulse buy." "gardening? the veggie patch?" "our garden is immaculate!" "yes it is, because i'm the one who looks after it and actually keeps it alive baby. the video camera?" "hey i made the cutest video with that last year, it isn't my fault i lost the charger."

"do i need to continue baby or are you seeing the pattern now?" you challenged with a smile, swinging leahs hand back and forth which was still linked with yours.

"okay maybe i can be a little bit impulsive. but life is too short not to enjoy simple pleasures babe, even just for a moment." using your interlocked hands she tugged your body into hers, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb pulled down your bottom lip before it snapped back up with a small pop.

"did you learn that in one of your self help books?" you grinned right as she leaned in to kiss you, head flicking back to the bookshelf. "shut up, but i'm getting pretty good! come." with that she lead you out of the office and back to the kitchen.

"leah!" you laughed as she effortlessly picked you up by the waist and sat you back on the counter. "listen." she carefully slid her headphones over your ears, pecking your lips a few times and focusing back on the dj pad.

your lips curled into a smile as you adjusted her headphones, wincing a little as a loud beat sounded in your ears, and you tried not to laugh at how your girlfriends eyebrows furrowed together as she pushed and prodded at the different buttons.

"see? not too bad eh!" leah stopped after a few minutes and you tugged the headphones down. "wait that was it?" you frowned, leahs mouth dropping into a small o at your words. "that was like someone beat boxing without a sense of rhythm. babe that was so bad!" you laughed honestly, covering your smile with your hand.

"baby!" leah whined, smacking your leg and crossing her arms. "what? do you want me to lie?" you grinned as she pulled her headphones off you with a huff. "don't quit your day job for the ibiza circuit just yet sweets, you're no fred again." you continued to tease as you patted her shoulder.

"hey it's really hard okay! these stupid programs i downloaded are no help either." leah pouted with another huff. you held up a finger for her to wait, lifting your hips to pull your phone out of your back pocket.

"here baby, one more for your bookshelf." "how to dj for idiots and dummies."

"cheeky girl." leah tutted, slotting herself in between your legs as her hands slid up and down your legs which wrapped around her waist. "have you figured out your dj name yet?" you grinned, getting your words out in between the lingeringly soft kisses the taller blonde was leaving on your lips.

"no, got any suggestions?" leah chuckled, closing her eyes as your mouth pulled away from hers and focused on her neck, her hands gripping your hips and pulling your body closer into hers as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of her favorite perfume.

"i think dj hold the mayo williamson will do numbers in ticket sales." "oh really? think i might need a tour manager love." "aren't you lucky, you've got the best in the business right in front of you." "mmm i haven't done any gigs yet gorgeous, afraid i can't pay you." "oh don't you worry williamson, i think we can work some sort of arrangement out."

[1d1195]

Toothpaste IV

Read Toothpaste here | ~1.8k words

From me: By popular demand 🦷

Warnings: some sexual tension, some oral fixation, and fairly sexy innuendos. Toothpaste anon, I know what you said but I wanted a really slow burn here. I know, I know. I'm sorry. But not quite yet..

Summary: “Did y’mean it?”

“Mean what?” There was hardly any air left in her lungs so the words she spoke were quiet.

“Y’were falling in love?” He questioned. Her cheeks felt hot. Embarrassed that she said that out loud on their first date.

Harry hurried around to the passenger side and opened the door for her to get out. Although she was already part way through opening it and Harry would have to remember that next time. But right now, he wanted her inside his house and would let it slide. “Let me,” he offered and took the bag of their to go order. She was so goddamn stunning it melted him. He put a hand on her lower back as he ushered her up the steps to his place.

Harry’s house wasn’t huge. It was just him, after all. A cute little porch was at the top of three little steps, a large window to the left of the door but she couldn’t see inside because of the curtains hiding behind the glass. A single chair and end table were in front of the window. A spot for reading and drinking coffee if she had to imagine.

In fact, she imagined Harry sitting there, completing a crossword puzzle first thing in the morning while the sun was still rising. If she lived in his house, she probably wouldn’t use the door to get to the porch. She loved the idea of a window that was large enough to open to the porch. It didn’t make sense. It was right next to the door. But it was adorable. To the right of the door was a large planter filled with colorful flowers and she imagined her extremely attractive dentist, boss, and date tending to a garden. The thought went straight to her heart.

Pulling the key back out of the lock, he opened the door and ushered her inside and closing, the door behind her. He put the bag of food on the entry table right next to the staircase. He reached for her shoulders, sliding his fingers below her hair and tugging the collar of her jacket down.

Her eyes adjusted to the semi-dark. Without any lights on, his place was cast in varying shades of white, gray, and black. But she could make out the room—a couch, a loveseat, and a coffee table. The TV hung above the mantle and fireplace. Paintings hung at regular intervals along the walls. Behind the couch was a bookshelf; each cubby filled with everything Harry enjoyed reading. She crouched immediately to read the titles. Harry brought the food to the kitchen. She didn’t take the books out but she pulled the ones she thought she would like down. “If you can part with these, I’d like borrow them.”

He smiled thoughtfully, leaning on the armrest of the loveseat. He crossed his feet at the ankles and his hands were in his pockets. “Y’can have whatever y’want.”

His kitchen was along the back wall, no dining room, but he had two seats around a small table—like an island in the middle. Everything was decorated so expertly. “Did you decorate yourself?” She asked.

“Gemma helped,” he shrugged. “We have similar taste,” he explained.

Gemma was Harry’s sister and not a reason for her to be jealous. But it seemed they would all get along swimmingly. “Can she help decorate my apartment?”

He chuckled. “M’sure she’d love that.”

She stood up and went to the fridge looking at the pictures and coupons that he had under magnets of places he visited? Maybe? Or maybe they were a souvenir from friends and family. Pictures of Gemma, a sweet little baby girl, and a woman that was most definitely where Harry got his gorgeous looks from adorned the door.

The place was so cozy and warm. She wanted to live there. Not to be dramatic, but whether Harry lived there or not. “I love your house,” she smiled. Harry stayed put at the armrest while he watched her inspect his place. He wanted to give her space and let her make the moves and make sure she was comfortable.

It took every bit of restraint for Harry to say thank you and not, it’s yours regarding her compliment of his home.

He was dead serious in saying she could have whatever she wanted. He was putty in her hands. Wrapped around her finger. Anything she wanted? He was going to give it to her. “Can I take my shoes off?”

He snorted. “Course, y’don’t have t’ask.”

“Well, I didn’t want to be rude.”

He shook his head with a smirk. He went over to the stove, turning on the soft light. It gave the room a romantic feel to it. Like how a couple would slow-dance to nothing but the music in their head. Then he went to her side and immediately dropped to his knees. Her heart skipped a beat. Then it took off rapidly, pounding so loudly she felt it in every inch of her body. She wondered if this was a dream because she would be lying if she hadn’t thought about it a lot in the time that she had known Harry.

His fingers danced at her ankle, skimming softly against her skin, and he coaxed her foot out of one shoe and then the other. He stood slowly, extremely close to her body. Only a breath of space between them. “Does your tooth hurt?” He asked. She shook her head. He smiled. “Good.” Then he kissed her. His hands on her hips and she knew his mouth was already perfect because he was a dentist, but she forgot that kissing would add a whole level to that perfection. He pulled away briefly, his eyes scanning her face for signs of regret. His smile was so pretty, and he sighed like this was the happiest moment of his life. She felt her chest aching something fierce. She slid one hand along the side of his face and the other went around through his soft hair at the back of his head and pulled him back in. He hummed in approval making her shiver involuntarily. “Are y’cold?” He asked against her lips.

“No,” she shook head refusing to talk when his mouth was there to kiss.

His hands reached down further, gripping the back of her thighs and he lifted her onto the counter. Bringing her toward the edge of it so he could settle his hips between her legs and wrap them around his hips. “Did y’mean it?” He asked, his lips peppering kisses along her mouth and face as he allowed her to breathe. Her breath came in quiet gasps. Unbelievably turned on and warm.

His lips followed the length of her jaw all the way to her ear before it took a turn and then descended down her neck. “Mean what?” There was hardly any air left in her lungs so the words she spoke were quiet.

“Y’were falling in love?” He questioned. Her cheeks felt hot. Embarrassed that she said that out loud on their first date. But him kissing her was a good sign, wasn’t it? She didn’t scare him off quite yet. “Don’t be shy now, kitten,” he murmured into her skin. “Told me y’would open wide the second day I met you.”

She huffed out a breath of laughter as his lips trailed across her collarbone to the other side to complete the loop of kisses he was placing along her skin. “I did not say that.”

“Would y’open wide?” He pulled his mouth from her skin. She couldn’t make out the pretty green color, even with the stove light, but she could make out he was gazing at her, his pupils huge and lovely as he eyed her. Her throat felt tight with desire, and she nodded silently. His eyes stayed locked with hers. “Open,” he ordered.

She dropped her jaw. Slowly he drew his hand up her body, making her eyelids flutter as she waited patiently. His hand held the side of her neck and keeping his slow pace he dragged his thumb across her lower lip, then the top one before finally pressing it on her tongue.

“Suck.”

His other hand was holding her thigh still so she knew he would feel the muscle contraction from between her legs and he grunted when her lips closed around his digit.

Then she sucked.

“Fuck,” he hissed. She could feel him hardening between her legs pressed close to her core. “Eyes,” he hummed. She didn’t even realize she had closed them. “Did y’mean it?” He repeated. She had no idea what he was talking about. Her tongue was lapping at his thumb and swirling around it like it was his dick and that made her tighten more as he ground his erection against her. Thank God she wore a dress. “Did y’mean it?” He asked again. “Hmm?” she hummed around his thumb making him inhale sharply at the insinuating vibration. She whimpered softly as he pressed harder onto her tongue. She hollowed her cheeks desperate for more. “Fuck,” he hissed pulling his hand away. “Did y’mean it when y’said y’were falling in love?”

Her shyness returned. Which was beautiful in its own right. The way her mouth closed around his thumb would be a visual that would never leave his mind for long. “Yes,” she whispered and looked down at her lap, right where they were closest to one another.

“Do y’think m’not?” He asked, tilting her chin back up. Her heart fluttered and she felt breathless, stunned, unable to move. Harry was brilliant, had his own practice, and a house that was so goddamn cute she wanted to scream. Falling in love with her? No, she didn’t think she was that lucky. “M’falling very hard for you, kitten,” he assured her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, melting her like she was nothing but candle wax.

“Oh.”

“Yeah...” he glanced down between them, where her core was pressed against his dick aching to escape his pants. Her dress covered her so he couldn’t see but he could feel how warm she was pressed against him. “Do y’want t’go upstairs?” He asked.

She swallowed and nodded.

“We don’t have to,” he assured her. He would probably have to take a cold shower and think about her the whole time, but they didn’t have to do anything if she didn’t want to.

His kindness was sweet, more than adorable. But if his thumb was merely a precursor to what laid ahead? She didn’t want to prolong her pleasure any longer. “Harry,” she giggled quietly. “I have a cavity.”

He tilted his head at her. “Are y’in pain?” He asked, concern filling his voice. He ran his thumb along her jawline, ghosting softly in case it was sensitive and hurt too much with even a touch on the outside of her mouth. He didn’t even care how rapidly the eye-fucking and the dry-humping stopped and changed to talk of toothaches.

“It really needs to be filled,” she said knowingly.

His eyes darted back to hers as realization flooded him. “Oh, fuck yes, love,” he moaned and yanked her toward him, kissed her, and carried her upstairs.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[lucidlivi]

Fuck A Friendship

Warnings: Strong Language, Mature Theme (rough sex), Mentions of Alcohol

Requested: @suckitands33

Anything Jensen/Dean Tags: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester

this will switch point of views, it will be indicated with italics

Reader

“what the fuck is wrong with you Dean? I had that!” I seethed.

Once again Dean had got in the way.

“yeah okay, you’re lucky I was there to save your ass…again!” He huffed throwing his bag down.

“hate to break it to you Dean but acting like a dick won’t make yours any bigger.”

I could see his eyes cloud over in rage.

“at least I’m not acting like an ungrateful bitch.” He jabbed.

“a bitch wow really? well then in that case I guess that means you’re not the only dog in the room.” I said rolling my eyes.

“maybe with all that eye rolling you’ll actually find a brain in that pretty little head of yours.” He smirked his words laced with anger.

“awe Dean I think you’re pretty too… pretty damn annoying.”

It was no secret Dean and I butted heads. I was sick of him treating me like a child. It was bad enough he treated Sam that way but now he was constantly looming over me too. I walked in to the study but of course he followed me. He always had to get the last word in any argument.

“how about we just skip right to the makeup sex.” Dean sneered.

“I’d rather set myself on fire.”

“oh please I know you think about me naked.” Dean said.

“why can’t you just drop things Dean?” I asked pulling a book out to research some lore.

I always calmed down faster when my mind was distracted.

“you didn’t deny it.” He smirked.

“please Dean feed your own ego, I’m busy”

“Oh come on just admit it, you want to have sex with me.”

“please, if anyone is having wet dreams it’s you about me.” I huffed flipping a page.

Dean smirked before ripping his shirt off.

“so then this doesn’t bother you at all?” He asked looking at me.

I huffed closing the book. I turned to Dean, he had a shit eating grin on his face that made me want to punch him.

I couldn’t deny though, his toned chest was gorgeous, especially the way it glistened with sweat after our rough hunt. My eyes traveled down to his abs, god they looked good too and… wait what am I saying?

“nope doesn’t bother me at all.” I said maybe a little too quickly.

“really cause it took you a minute.”

I quickly pulled my shirt over my head leaving me in just my bra. Dean looked shocked by my action.

“so this doesn’t bother you at all then?” I smirked.

I watched Dean’s pupils dilate as his eyes raked over my chest. He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to meet mine again.

“nope doesn’t bother me at all.” He spoke.

“so it wouldn’t bother you if I did this?”

I quickly grabbed the waistband of my pants sliding them down my legs painfully slow. Dean watched me with a lustful stare. I could see his jeans getting tighter around the crotch area. I didn’t know what had gotten in to me. I just wanted Dean to see I wasn’t this helpless child he had to look after.

Dean looked at me before taking his own pants down. We were now both stood in the study in just our under garments. There was a pause of silence as our eyes devoured each others body.

Dean crossed the room in two quick strides, crashing his lips to mine. I immediately kissed him back my hands going to his toned chest starting to explore. His hands made their way to my ass, picking me up and forcing me to wrap my legs around him.

He backed us up so my back was pressed up against the bookshelf. His lips left mine and traveled to my neck and down my collarbone. I could feel him throbbing against my leg. In one swift action Dean unclasped my bra letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck.” He whispered mouth traveling further down to my uncovered breasts.

I let out a moan as Dean took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking gently. My hands ran across his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms.

“you want this?” Dean growled, his hands squeezing my ass.

Of course I thought about having sex with Dean. He was undeniably gorgeous, even after a hunt.

“Please Dean.”

His hands left my ass, pulling his boxers down. I gasped as his full length sprung out. I had seen Dean in his boxers once before but now he looked much bigger. Without warning he pulled my panties to the side slamming himself in to me. I choked back a loud moan as I stretched around him.

He started to thrust, pressing my back harder against the bookshelf. He brought his lips back to mine taking my bottom lip between his teeth. I whimpered as he bit down lightly, his thrusts getting more rough as he went.

“Fuck Dean.” I moaned.

I gripped the bookshelf trying to steady myself.

Dean growls thrusting harder. It was rough but tender at the same time.

“maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” He groans, thrusts becoming sloppy.

“not likely.” I pant.

Dean groaned as his legs started to shake. He was close, as was I.

“Dean I’m gonna.” I started but he cut me off.

“Fuck, let go for me sweetheart.” He groaned.

I came undone, his words mixed with the pleasure being too much to bare. As I clenched around him, it brought his release too. I could feel the bruising already forming as my back was slammed against the bookshelf repeatedly. Once we rode out our high, Dean gently placed me on my feet again.

I took me a second to get my footing, my legs feeling stiff.

“you’re fucking stubborn, you know that? He growled, cleaning himself off.

“and you’re an overprotective asshole so it kind of evens out.” I smirked.

I quickly grabbed my clothes throwing my shirt back on and pulling on my pants.

“I’m going to clean up .” I said walking out of the room.

“wait..” Dean said making me pause.

“this..” he pointed between me and him “we shouldn’t tell Sam.”

“there’s nothing to tell Dean, we fucked, that’s it.” I said walking out of the study.

Dean

I watched her walk away, quickly throwing on my clothes. I’ve had sex with a lot of women, but something about it this time felt different. I shook it off, hearing the door opening signifying Sam had made his way back to the bunker.

“why do you look all sweaty?” He asked giving me an awkward look.

“I uh was, I mean it was uh a rough hunt.”

What the fuck? Why was I fumbling over my words? I never do that?

“wow what happened to the bookshelf? Sam asked pushing past me.

The books from where I had her pushed up against the shelf were in complete disarray, falling out on to the floor.

“I was looking for something.” Her voice spoke up from the doorway.

“I’ll fix them.” She added walking over and picking a book off the floor.

“I’ll help.” I offered leaning down next to her.

I studied her face as she focused on putting some loose leaf pages back in a book.

Did she always have light freckles over her nose? Were her eyes always that color?

“Why are you staring at me?” She whisper yelled so Sam couldn’t hear.

I cleared my throat tearing my eyes away from her.

“I’m not.” I defended even though I totally was.

I picked up another book putting it in its place. I gulped as I stared at the bookshelf.

The sounds of her heavenly moans filled my head. I could still see her naked body pressed up against it. I could feel myself getting harder just thinking about it. I quickly walked out of the study not wanting to get caught by Sam.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Dean where are you going, I have more information about a case?” Sam asked annoyed.

“Uh I’m starving I’m getting us some dinner and then I’ll be back.” I said hurrying away from her.

I stopped by my room, trying to control my breathing. I ran in to my bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face.

“get it together Dean.” I said to my image in the mirror.

Normally when I had sex with a girl, it was forgotten after I came. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about it now? I decided I needed to go for a drive, get some food and then maybe I’d be able to face her again.

Reader

“what’s his problem?” Sam asked as we watched Dean hurry out of the room.

I bit my lip shrugging my shoulders.

“did something happen on the hunt?” He asked scratching his head.

something definitely happened, but it wasn’t on the hunt.

“nope, hunt went perfect.” I lied as I finished arranging the books back to their original positions.

“I’m confused Dean said it was rough?”

Fuck.

“oh yeah, just a little, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

It was amazing how easily I could lie to Sam.

“well are you okay?” Sam asked placing a hand on my back.

I flinched at the contact, my back sore from being slammed against the bookshelf by Dean. I bit my lip as the memory replayed in my head. I never realized how strong Dean truly was.

“I’m great.” I said giving him a thumbs up.

He looked like he didn’t believe me but thankfully he didn’t push any farther. I sat in the study looking over a book. My eyes were reading the words but my mind was too preoccupied.

Why did Dean leave so quickly? Why did I care?

It was around an hour later before Dean came strolling back in, food for all of us in his hand. He swallowed hard as he came closer to me handing me some food. He turned away from me quickly, taking the farthest seat away from me.

Sam started to tell us the information but I wasn’t really listening. My eyes traveled to Dean. His hands gripped the arms of the chair he sat on.

God have his hands always looked that nice? I imagined them wrapping around my throat making me bite back a moan.

Why am I thinking of Dean in this way?

I felt my cheeks flush as I tried to focus on what Sam was saying. I glanced at Dean as he spoke, I noticed the way his adams apple bobbed up and down with his deep voice. I could feel the heat pool between my legs. I needed to get away from Dean, I needed a drink.

“Is that all?” I asked, noticing both men had stopped talking.

“uh yeah I’m finished if that’s what you mean.” Sam said slightly offended by my outburst.

“Sorry Sammy rough day, I’m going to the bar for a drink.” I said standing up.

“I’ll go with you.” Dean spoke.

“NO” I spoke too quickly.

“I mean uh maybe I’m trying to meet someone.” I said mentally facepalming.

Why did I say that?

I could see Dean’s eyebrows lower as he stared me down. I quickly walked out of the room, throwing on my leather jacket. I couldn’t control my thoughts around Dean, I had to get away from him. I walked to the local bar having a seat and ordering a straight shot.

Why was Dean suddenly controlling my thoughts?

“excuse me, this seat taken?”

I turned around to see a handsome stranger staring down at me. He wasn’t Dean but, maybe a distraction would be nice.

“it is now.” I said pulling it out for him.

Dean

“I mean uh, maybe I’m trying to meet someone.” she spoke.

Meet someone?

I couldn’t help but feel the anger boiling up to the surface. It wasn’t even twenty four hours ago that she was wrapped around me and now she wants to meet someone?

Wait why did I even care if she met someone else. She said it herself, we fucked and that’s it.

“okay what the hell is up with you two?” Sam asked as she left the room.

“nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grumbled.

“you’re both being extra weird today, leaving in a haste, she’s flinching when I put my hand on her back..” he says but I cut him off.

“she flinched?” I asked in concern.

I knew I went rough, but I didn’t think I’d actually hurt her.

“did something happen to her?” Sam asked.

oh something definitely happened to her.

“nah, she’s tough.” I said standing up.

I don’t know why, but I needed to get to the bar. If she really was meeting someone, I had to make sure they weren’t some type of creature who was going to hurt her.

“come on Sammy, let’s go.” I said grabbing my jacket.

“where are we going?”

“to the bar.” I simply said.

“but she didn’t want you there.” He spoke crossing his arms across his chest and looking at me suspiciously.

“we’re going for you, you need to get laid, you’re way too uptight.” I said slapping a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged following me to baby. It was a quick drive to the bar. Once inside my eyes scanned the room for her. She sat at the far end of the bar, a man sitting beside her. I glared at him as she laughed at whatever bullshit joke he was telling. I could feel my blood boil as he placed a hand on her knee traveling up to her thigh.

“yeah we’re definitely here for me.” Sam joked.

I flicked my eyes to his but instead he was looking down at my hands. I didn’t notice but they were clenched into fists as I watched her flirt with him.

What am I feeling?

“it’s called jealousy.” Sam spoke beside me.

How did he read my mind?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I scowled ordering a beer.

I tried my best but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her at the end of the bar. I noticed she removed his hand from her leg instead holding it with her own. He leaned down whispering something in to her ear making her laugh again.

“what do you think he’s saying?” I asked looking over to where I thought Sam sat.

Sam was instead sat a few feet away from me, a cute brunette all over him.

“I’ll be damned Sammy.” I laughed watching her kiss over his neck.

I looked down at my beer chugging the rest of it down. I felt a hand slide across my shoulders, I flinched looking up to see a blonde in barely any clothing.

“what’s a handsome guy like you doing all by himself?” she asked, her fingers grazing my neck.

I pulled away gently.

“I guess I was waiting for someone like you.” I flirted.

This was the type of girl I usually picked up at the bar. She was more than willing to throw herself at me. She put her hands around my shoulders, wasting no time in kissing my jaw line.

I glanced back over to the end of the bar but I didn’t see her anymore. My eyes furiously looked around the room, finally catching a glimpse of (y/n) leading him out of the door by his hand. I quickly stood up causing the blonde to fall on the floor.

“what the hell is your problem.” she whined fixing her skirt.

“sorry I gotta go.” I said rushing out the door.

I didn’t want her to go home with him. She couldn’t.

I ran outside whipping my head around to see where she went. My heart sunk as she was nowhere in sight.

Fuck I was too late. She was gone.

“Fuck.” I growled running a hand through my hair.

“are you looking for me?”

Reader

I laughed at another joke he told. It wasn’t actually that funny but I didn’t want to bruise his ego. Too quickly his hand was placed on my knee traveling up to my thigh. I glanced up, my eyes catching sight of Sam first due to his height. Dean stood right beside him glaring in my direction.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

“did you hear me?”

James asked, or was his name Jake, I couldn’t remember now.

“sorry no I missed that.” I admitted.

James/Jake started to tell his story again but my eyes were on Dean who now took a seat at the bar. James/Jake’s hand was still rubbing my thigh making me slightly uncomfortable now. I grabbed it off, holding it in my own hand.

“so yeah I’m kind of a big deal now.” He whispered in my ear.

I laughed at him again. I didn’t know if it was an appropriate reaction to what he said but it usually worked for these types of situations. I glanced up at the other side of the bar, seeing a brunette ferociously attacking Sam’s neck with her lips. I laughed to myself. I noticed a blonde with minimal clothing making her way over to Dean. I felt the jealousy creeping up as she ran a hand across his shoulders.

“you’re not in to this are you?”

I flicked my eyes back to James/Jake. He was staring at me with a slight smile.

“i’m sorry Jake.” I said guessing on his name.

“it’s uh James.” He laughed.

“fuck right, sorry again.” I muttered.

“it’s that guy isn’t it?” James asked nodding his head towards Dean.

I didn’t know what it was about Dean though. It’s as if I was starting to see him in a whole new light.

“something about him yeah.” I replied biting my lip.

“I should go then, and you should talk to him.” James said offering me a smile.

I glanced back over seeing Dean giving his attention to the blonde girl all over him.

“I’ll walk you out.” I offered.

James smiled gratefully and walked with me out of the bar.

“uh I’m really sorry again.” I said dropping his hand finally.

“it’s okay, really. I hope you can sort out whatever it is.” he said offering me a small wave before getting in his car and driving off.

I sighed moving to lean against the side of the building. I sighed running a hand through my hair.

Why was I feeling this way?

Suddenly the door flew open, Dean came running out. He was furiously looking around, his eyes widening as he looked around the parking lot.

Was he looking for me?

“Fuck.” He growled running a hand through his hair.

“are you looking for me?” I hesitantly asked coming off the wall.

relief flooded Dean’s features as he spotted me.

“you didn’t go home with him?” he asked unsure if he was actually seeing me now.

“he’s not really my type, plus I don’t have sex twice with two different people in the same day.” I joked taking a step towards Dean.

“oh yeah, what about twice with the same person? Dean asked.

I could feel my cheeks heat up as he stood in front of me, cupping my cheek with his hand. He looked down at my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“It depends on the person.” I smirked.

“Me?”

“I think I could make an exception for you.”

At my consent Dean attached his lips to mine. I didn’t realize just how much I missed this sensation. Dean picked me up bridal style not breaking the kiss. He walked over to his car, depositing me in the back seat before climbing on top of me.

I reconnected our lips, tugging at his shirt. He pulled it over his head, dipping down to kiss my neck.

“Dean, wait.” I said pushing him off.

I could see the hurt flash in his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” I said biting my lip.

He gave me a confused look.

“I don’t know if I can have sex with you and still maintain a friendship afterwards.” I explained biting my lip.

“fuck a friendship.” Dean said.

It was my turn to give him a confused glance.

“I don’t want a friendship, I want so much more than that, I want to be the one you laugh at, I want to be the only guy who gets to touch you. I want so much more.” He confesses.

I felt my heart burst at his words. As a hunter, love and relationships weren’t a luxury we were afforded.

“if I’m being honest, it scares me to death and I tried to stop it, I tried my best, but I can’t stop thinking about you.” Dean added looking in my eyes.

He was saying everything I was thinking.

“fuck a friendship.” I said pulling him down for a kiss.

love and relationships were a luxury, but so was Dean, and this was one luxury I’d let myself afford.

Author Note:

Ooh I hope you liked it! I appreciate the request! Sorry it took me so long I wanted to make it perfect for you! If you have some crazy ideas send them my way! xoxo

[cuubism]

physical therapy, part 6.

--

Hob's been wavering on things like timeline with Dream because, well, he doesn't want to push, but he does obviously want more. There's a lot that he wants, and he thinks Dream wants it too. But Hob can be patient. Definitely. For sure. He's the epitome of patience.

In any case, after a few more dates which are oh so very patient, and in which Dream seems to be gradually coming more and more out of his shell, Hob finally takes the plunge and texts him:

If you want, come over to my place this weekend and I'll cook for you, and adds his address.

He paces nervously while waiting for a response. Dream coming over... he doesn't know how that would end. Well, it would hopefully at least end in Dream eating a proper meal, but other than that...

It's really not so long before he gets a response, though it feels like an eternity.

Okay, writes Dream, with a smile. 🙂 Should I bring anything?

Just yourself, writes Hob.

A shame, for I was planning to arrive incorporeally.

Hob smiles to himself at the comment. Dream is so much brighter once he decides he’s allowed to be.

On the agreed-upon date, Hob spends a truly excessive amount of time getting ready. He’s not even cooking anything elaborate, as he felt convinced he’d wind up fucking it up out of nerves if he did. But really, the quality of his food isn’t the wild card. What he’s nervous about is Dream’s response to being in his home. To being alone. Whether he’ll be okay with it. He doesn’t want to make Dream nervous.

But Dream arrives on time, and he’s smiling when Hob opens the door. He’s also carrying a huge canvas.

Oh!” Hob says, distracted from even kissing him hello. “What have you got there?”

“It is for you,” Dream says, and turns the canvas around so Hob can see it.

It’s a large painting of a rather clever-looking cat, bright colors and bold swathes of paint. It reminds Hob of Dream’s finger paintings, actually, but far more precise in technique. It’s lovely. It’s so cute. And much more playful than Dream’s older art, the pieces he had shown Hob from before his injury.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,”  he says, and Dream smiles shyly. “I take it your grip’s been feeling steadier, then?”

“Somewhat,” Dream says, following Hob deeper into the flat, as Hob takes the painting and sets it on top of a low bookshelf, propped against the wall. Later he’ll have to hang it up properly. “I am. Enjoying painting again. I think.”

It’s so good to hear. Each time Hob sees Dream he seems incrementally better. Less frozen. More outgoing. And it always makes Hob realize that he’s only gotten to see a fraction of the life that truly exists inside of him.

“I’m so glad to hear that, darling,” he says.

It hurts to think of the version of Dream that might have been there before being hurt. But Hob likes the Dream that he gets to know now.

He leads Dream into the kitchen and bids him to sit down at the table while Hob serves their food, which is staying warm on the stove. Normally, when he invites someone over, he’d offer them wine, but he doesn’t want Dream to get the wrong idea. God, he’s probably massively overthinking things. He’s being totally paranoid, he knows it. But it feels so important that it be right. He’d never forgive himself if he made Dream feel unsafe around him, even if it was by accident.

“I am curious what you’ve prepared to attempt to persuade me to change my habits,” Dream says, after taking a sip of the water Hob’s handed him.

“Something with a lot of butter,” Hob says, and Dream laughs softly. Dream needs it, though. He needs something that’ll stick to his bones.

What he has is tarragon chicken—fried in, truly, an excessive amount of butter—served over rice with string beans. If this can’t encourage Dream to eat real meals, nothing can.

And, gratifyingly, he’s right. Dream devours it, and has seconds. As he eats his own serving more sedately Hob wonders when the last time was that somebody actually cooked for him.

They barely even talk, but Hob doesn’t mind. He just wants Dream to eat.

“You can cook,” Dream says, and Hob laughs.

“Was that in question?”

A light blush graces Dream’s cheeks. “When you first mentioned cooking for me, I had the thought that you were a catch. For that reason among others.”

Hob can’t help himself from smiling—and perhaps blushing a bit, too. “I’ll have to keep it up, and maybe you’ll keep me.”

Dream looks down at his food, but murmurs, “I would like to.”

So Hob takes his hand on the table and squeezes it.

Later in the evening, when they’ve been ensconced on the couch for a while watching mindless telly, Dream’s head on his shoulder, Hob says, “You can stay over if you want. No expectations. Just don’t want you walking home in the dark.”

He’ll walk Dream home if that’s what he really wants, but it’s already midnight and it really might be easier to just stay put.

“Am I allowed to stay over in your bed?” Dream asks, and Hob’s pulse jumps.

“That’s what you want?”

Dream nods.

So, heart still beating hard, Hob says, “Alright. Come on, then.”

And Dream takes his hand as Hob draws him up.

He gets Dream situated with some of his pajamas, which are far too large on him, and with a spare toothbrush and so on, and when they’re finally ready he tries not to be too awkward or nervous as he climbs into bed and gestures Dream to follow, saying, “Come on, love.”

He expects Dream might hesitate, but he doesn’t, just crawls into bed after him and presses himself all up against Hob’s body, laying his head on Hob’s chest. And— God. He’s really decided that he trusts Hob. It puts a lump in Hob’s throat.

He feels like a fucking teenager again, stomach all fluttery just at the feeling of Dream lying against him. In past relationships, Hob had mostly jumped in sex-first, questions-later. But maybe there are more benefits to taking things slow than he thought. It makes every tiny thing feel monumental.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and Dream nods, hair brushing Hob’s chin.

“Yes, thank you.”

Hob pulls the blankets up over them, pets his hair. Dream lets out a long, happy sigh, and snuggles closer.

I’m going to keep you, Hob thinks. “Goodnight, Dream,” he says.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 20 FINAL | S.R

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary - It’s eight months later and Spencer’s life has changed dramatically. Did he ever get his happy ending?

A/N - Final chapter folks! 'Bout time, right?

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - some light angst but overall long overdue fluff. WC - 5.3k

Chapter 20 - First Day of My Life

And I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been,

But I know where I want to go.

And so I thought I'd let you know,

Yeah, these things take forever, I especially am slow,

But I realised that I need you,

And I wondered if I could come home.

“How did you find me?” 

“I know a guy.”

“What do you want?” 

“It’s time we had a long overdue talk.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” 

“Spencer. We need to talk about Spencer.” 

***

Eight Months Later

Spencer Reid had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he slotted the last handful of books into their new home on the bookshelf in his new office. 

He ran his fingers over the spines and the smile started to take route, blossoming and growing until it reached all the way to his eyes. 

He surveyed the room, tucked away at the back of the second storey of his new home. His old trusty desk sat beneath the old bay windows with the most gorgeous lighting drifting in through the open curtains from the surprisingly glorious winter day outside. 

He slid into his leather chair and brushed his fingertips over the dark wood desk. 

He’d officially moved into the old gothic style house back in the fall and the rest of the home had come together nicely. But his office had been a slow process, a tiring process. 

This room more than any others in the new house had to be perfect. He would be spending a lot of time in this room and it had to be just right. And after weeks of shuffling furniture around, it finally fit his criteria. 

Eight months ago Spencer had made a decision about his future. He’d quit teaching, never returning to Georgetown after the summer break. Instead he struck a deal with BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. 

On the weeks Maeve had the girls he would work from Quantico or go away with the team on cases. When he had the girls he would work from his home office as a consultant. 

His FBI badge sat next to his computer along with his new credentials and every time he looked at them he couldn’t help but smile. 

The BAU was his home. In all the years since he’d left he’d felt like something was missing from his life. But now he had found his way back to his rightful place in the world. 

It allowed him to feel fulfilled in both his home and work life. He didn’t have to give up any of his precious time spent with his daughters and he was able to work a job he loved with every fibre of his being. 

Since the incident the night of the art show, Spencer had not had a single sip of alcohol. He was closing in on nine months sober and honestly he’d never felt better. 

He still took his antidepressants, but a much lower dose now and he’d quit seeing Doctor Sanchez months ago. 

His relationship was Maeve had slowly repaired itself over time to the point he would now call her one of his closest friends. 

Eight months ago he would never have believed he could be this happy again. But it just went to show what a little hard work and determination could do. 

He ran his fingers over the desk again as he got to his feet. He walked past the desk and across the room. 

In the doorway he turned back for one last glance around the room.

Yes, everything was falling into place. 

***

You fought with the zipper on the back of your dress, huffing and puffing through excretion. When you finally got the thing all the way up your arms fell back to your sides and you let out a large breath. 

You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, turning this way and that and scrutinising your appearance. You’d looked better, that was for sure. But given the circumstances you didn’t look half bad. 

The pile of papers on the dresser caught your gaze through the mirror and you rolled your eyes as they seemingly taunted you. 

Tomorrow was paperwork day. Today there were more pressing things at hand. 

You’d received your doctorate in August and since Doctor Spencer Reid’s sudden resignation from the university you had taken over teaching his classes. 

It wasn’t your end goal, but for now you couldn’t deny you loved teaching. Maybe one day you’d look elsewhere but as of right now you quite liked your place in the world. 

The past eight months had been a whirlwind to say the least, and where you’d found yourself was not at all where you imagined ending up. But you couldn’t pretend you weren’t happy where you were. 

You moved over to the bed, your stomach coiling a little as you sat down on the edge of it. You slipped your feet into your shoes as your mind wandered back some eight months. 

“How did you find me?” You scrutinised the woman on your doorstep, recognising her from one fleeting sighting of her some time ago. 

“I know a guy.” She shrugged simply. 

“What do you want?” You folded your arms across your chest. 

She was the last person you expected to see here and the last person you wanted to be face to face with. 

“It’s time we had a long overdue talk.” She mirrored your action and crossed her own arms. 

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” You scoffed. 

“Spencer.” She rolled her eyes. “We need to talk about Spencer.” 

Having the former Mrs Reid show up at your apartment had thrown you through a loop. You’d been so shell shocked you’d actually invited her inside. 

Maeve proceeded to tell you all the reasons you needed to give Spencer a second chance. She explained to you why he’d lied to you about not being in love with you, how he was simply trying to protect himself from getting hurt again. 

She went into great detail about how she knew you and Spencer belonged together and that you were the loves of each other's lives. 

You hadn’t spoken much, simply listened. And when she left she tried to put the whole thing behind you so you could move on. You still had no idea to this day how she knew where you lived and could only assume someone at the BAU had given her the intel. 

Two months later you’d gone back to work to find Spencer had quit the university. And for some reason the thought of never seeing him again undid all the hard work you’d put in over the summer to get over him. 

“Y/N?” He blinked at you as though he wasn’t sure he trusted his own eyes. “Uh, what are you doing here?” 

“Can I come in?” You hugged your arms around yourself. 

“Yeah, sure. The place is still a mess, I literally only moved in a few days ago.” He held open the door to his new home and let you inside. 

Boxes were piled up all over the place. A couch and a coffee table were the only visible furniture. 

“How did you know where I live?” He hovered between piles of boxes. 

“Maeve,” you croaked. “She came to me a few months ago and left me her number. I didn’t ever expect to use it but when I found out you’d quit I just…I wanted to know why. So I called her and she gave me your address, said she has the girls this week.” 

“Maeve came to you? Why?” He frowned, scratching at the back of his head. 

“She wanted to explain some things. About you. About why you lied to me.” 

“Right,” his frown deepened.

“So why did you quit?” 

“That’s why you came here? Really? You want to know why I quit Georgetown? I haven't seen or heard from you in months and that’s what you came here for?” He looked at you somewhat indignantly. 

“They offered me your job. I just want to know if you plan on coming back before I take it.” You shrugged. 

“You got your doctorate?” His lip quivered into something resembling a smile. 

“I did. So are you coming back or can I take your job?” 

“I rejoined the BAU.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Not a full caseload like I used to work, I can fit my hours around the girls now Maeve and I have joint custody. It’s where I belong.” 

“Fine.” You finally let your arms fall to your sides. “That’s all I came here for.” 

You turned away from him, back towards the old mahogany front door with the stained glass window in the centre but you didn’t get very far. 

“I shouldn’t have lied to you.” He spoke and when you turned back around he was a few steps closer to you. “I thought I was protecting us both but really I was only hurting us.”

“I didn’t come here for this.” You shook your head. 

“Well you certainly didn’t come all the way out here to ask if I was coming back to work.” He chuckled dryly. “I may always have complicated feelings towards my ex but my feelings for you are anything but. I love you Y/N. I love you more than words can describe and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don’t walk away. Please give me another chance.” 

Your eyes misted with tears but you were not going to let them fall. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of keeping them at bay. 

You straightened your back, clenched your jaw and spat a simple, “no.” 

You pushed yourself up, wobbling slightly as you did so. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes to try to ease the dizziness. 

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your dress which was a little tighter than you would have liked it to be, before shaking your head and pushing out of the door. 

***

“You really don’t have to do this.” Maeve rolled her eyes at him through the mirror. 

“Oh please, I’m great with kids.” Spencer scoffed, nudging the rocker a little and smiling down at the little dark haired bundle of joy. 

“Well yes I know that,” she huffed, toying with the strap of her dress. “But it seems weird to have you look after my son.” 

Little Elijah, Daisy and Lily’s half brother, was twelve weeks old and Spencer had almost forgotten how tiny babies were. 

“It’s really no big deal. He’s my daughter’s half brother, he’s basically family.” He shrugged. 

“And what a weird family we are.” Maeve laughed as she turned back to face Spencer. “So, how do I look?” 

Spencer glanced up from baby Elijah and onto her and tears immediately filled his eyes. He stood up and crossed the room towards her, gaze flicking up and down her frame. 

“Good gosh Maeve,” he breathed. “You look incredible.” 

“Don’t cry.” She shook her head. “Because if you start I’ll start.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his palms to try and dismiss the tears. “But seriously, you look amazing.”

She smiled at him, glancing down at her white, satin dress. She felt like a princess, and judging by Spencer’s reaction she looked like one too.

“Thank you,” she took hold of his hands and squeezed them. “And you’re sure you don’t mind watching over Elijah for the day?” 

“For the one hundredth time I do not mind at all. For the record, I hate weddings anyway so this kinda works out great for me. If he cries I have an excuse to leave early.” He smirked at her and she removed her hands from his so she could slap his bicep. 

“You’re such a cynic.” She rolled her eyes. 

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I heard eloping is all the rage.” 

She rolled her eyes yet again. 

“Can you believe we’re here? I never in a million years thought I’d ever get married again.” She sighed wistfully. 

“I always thought when I got married it would be forever.” He nodded. “And after all we’ve been through I never thought we’d end up here.” 

“Friends you mean?”’

“Is that what this is? Huh. Good to know.” He chuckled, yet again making Maeve roll her eyes. 

She turned her back on him again and toyed with her hair in the mirror. Spencer moved back over to where baby Elijah was dribbling down his chin, making little gurgling noises. 

He picked up the rocket and attached it to the frame of the stroller so he was ready to make a quick exit when needed. 

Just then the door to the bridal suite flew open and his two boisterous daughters barrelled in, wearing their matching purple bridesmaids dresses. 

“Mom!” Daisy gasped. “Oh my gosh you look amazing!” 

“Mom you’re so pretty!” Lily agreed excitedly. 

“Thank you sweethearts.” Maeve turned and held her arms open for the girls who quickly embraced their mother.

“I mean, I’m also here.” Spencer shrugged. “I thought I looked pretty good too.” 

“Shut up dad.” Daisy rolled her eyes at him. 

“Yeah dad, you’re not the one getting married.” Lily also rolled her eyes. 

Since turning eight a few months ago, Lily had started becoming more and more like her sister by the day. Spencer couldn’t remember the time she’d called him daddy or the last time she’d asked him to read to her. 

Life was moving way too fast for his liking. His little girls were growing up, soon enough they’d be leaving him. Now wasn’t the time to get down about it though, he still had exciting things in his future. 

“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I’m going to take Elijah and get a seat. Try not to upstage your mom, kiddos.” 

“He’s such a dork.” He heard Daisy say. 

“Yeah who says kiddos?” He heard Lily reply. 

He smiled to himself as he left the room, pushing Elijah’s stroller towards the large ballroom down the hall. 

Soft music played through small, indiscriminate speakers, as people started taking their seats either side of the grand aisle. 

Maeve had always dreamed of a big wedding, their own nuptials at city hall had left a lot for her imagination to desire. And Spencer was glad she was finally getting everything she’d always wanted. 

He came to a stop by the door where Bobby, beaming with pride, was waiting to greet people. He spotted Spencer and his son heading his way and waved at them. 

“Hey, how’s my little man doing?” 

“I’m not bad, thanks.” Spencer joked, now making Bobby roll his eyes. “Oh you mean Elijah? He’s good aren’t you buddy?” 

Bobby crouched down and cooed over his son for a moment or two, placing a kiss on his forehead before standing back to his full height. 

“Thanks for being here, man. It means a lot to Maeve that you approve of this.” Bobby smiled a gentle smile at him. 

“I just want her to be happy.” Spencer shrugged. “And I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you.” 

Bobby extended his hand and Spencer took it, shaking his ex-wife’s soon to be new husband's hand. 

It was probably extremely weird if he stopped to think about it, but that was a thought for another day. 

“Are you happy, Spencer?” Bobby surprised him when he asked. 

A smile toyed on Spencer’s lips as he closed his eyes briefly and gave thought to his life. When he opened his eyes again his smile grew. 

“You know what? I really am.” He nodded. 

Bobby patted him on the shoulder before Spencer took the stroller again and headed through the doors. 

He headed towards the bar in the corner, spotting JJ, Will and the boys already in their seats and offered them a wave as he passed. 

Towards the bar he saw Luke and Garcia, holding hands and giggling between themselves. Nearby Rossi sipped his scotch and tilted his glass at Spencer as he passed. 

Cameron was hovering on the other side of the room, looking much like a spare part. He didn’t know anyone here and was instructed to wait patiently for his girlfriend while she fulfilled her bridesmaids duties. 

The rest of the team were due to be here but the ceremony wasn’t due to start for another half hour so he had no doubt they’d be here soon. 

He pushed the stroller up to the bar and applied the brake, ordering himself a club soda and leaning on the bar top while he waited. 

Elijah started to stir, his gurgling noises starting to sound a little strained. Spencer stood back up and peered in his stroller. 

“Hey you,” he reached towards the tiny boy and unclipped him from the seat. “It’s ok.” 

He lifted Elijah from the stroller, his little face contorted as though he may start crying at any moment. Spencer held the back of soft head and brought him to his chest, cradling him in his arms. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” He bounced him gently. “Don’t cry, it’s your mommy and daddy’s big day. We don’t want tears.” 

He rocked him back and forth and thanked the bar tender when he placed his club soda on the bar. Elijah continued to gurgling, but the rocking motion seemed to calm him. 

“It’s ok.” He kissed the side of Elijah’s head. 

He’d missed this. He missed when his girls were this small and they didn’t talk back to him and one cuddle from their daddy solved all their problems. 

He missed sneaking into their rooms at night just to watch them sleep when the baby monitor wasn’t enough. He missed the way they would cling to his hand so tightly, the way they’d once thought their dad was a superhero. 

He loved his girls, more than humanly possible. He loved them as babies, as toddlers and he loved them now, one as a teenager and another who thought she was a teenager. 

But as time went on Spencer felt like his girls needed him less and less with every passing day. He sometimes felt redundant as a parent, like his job was done. 

Elijah was brand new. Maeve and Bobby would have all those things he’d taken for granted with Daisy and Lily. 

Sometimes he wished he could go back in time, really savour those moments. In the blink of an eye his girls would be going off to college, having families of their own and then they really wouldn’t need him anymore. 

He held Elijah a little longer than he needed to, momentarily pretending he was Daisy or Lily and he had a chance to do it all over again. 

“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you little man. And you got so lucky. You’re mom and dad love you so much and you have the two best sisters in the whole world. And this extended family of yours…” he trailed off, glancing around the room at his family, his BAU family. “You don’t know how lucky you’ve got it kid.”

He started getting a little misty eyed as he stroked Elijah’s head, still rocking him in his arms. Elijah made a happy little cooing sound and Spencer smiled to himself. He closed his eyes and breathed in that new baby scent, imagining one of his daughter’s in his arms when they were so small and vulnerable. 

“That’s a good look on you, daddy.”  

His eyes snapped back open and he couldn’t hold back the smile on his face. He cautiously laid Elijah back down in his stroller, buckling him back in. 

“Just remembering what it was like, it's been a while.” He chuckled, reaching out his hands. “You look like a goddamn dream.” 

“You say that like you didn’t see me this morning.” You laughed, taking hold of his outstretched hands. 

“You somehow look more beautiful every single time I lay eyes on you.” He pulled you close by your hands and moved them to cup your face. 

“You’re not going to cry are you?” You teased him as he kissed you. 

“I can’t promise anything.” He laughed against your lips. 

“I may always have complicated feelings towards my ex but my feelings for you are anything but. I love you Y/N. I love you more than words can describe and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don’t walk away. Please give me another chance.” 

Your eyes misted with tears but you were not going to let them fall. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of keeping them at bay. 

You straightened your back, clenched your jaw and spat a simple, “no.” 

Turning away from him towards the door, you soon felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“That’s not good enough for me.” He turned you back to face him. “I cannot let you walk away again.”

Before you knew what was happening, Spencer caged you back against the door and kissed you. And despite everything, all the pain and hurt he’d caused you, you kissed him back. 

And the rest, as they say, was history. 

You didn’t walk away, couldn’t even if you tried. You hadn’t walked away in the six months since and you knew you never would. 

Four weeks later you moved into his new home with him and the girls. 

Daisy and Lily adored you and in return you loved them just as much. They enjoyed having another woman around and oftentimes the three of you would gang up on their dad, much to Spencer’s chagrin. 

Daisy talked to you about things she wasn’t always comfortable talking to her parents about. Lily liked it when you braided her hair. They both enjoyed the shopping trips you took them on. 

Spencer kissed you once more before letting go of your face and taking hold of one of your hands again. 

“This place is fancy.” You spoke as your eyes flitted around the grand room. 

“I did try to explain to her the benefits of eloping.” Spencer shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“It’s not for everyone.” You chuckled.

Spencer raised your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles, right next to your gold wedding band. 

“Do you regret it? Not having some big fancy event like this?” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pulled a face, glancing down at his matching band. “The only person I needed at our wedding was you, Doctor Reid.”

Some might say it was too soon, that the two of you had rushed into things but they would be wrong. 

When you know, you know and you both knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were meant to be together and didn’t want to waste a second not being married. Nothing had ever felt so right as standing up in that little Vegas chapel and promising each other forever. 

“I love you so much. Doctor Reid.” He squeezed your hand. 

The kiss lasted several minutes and by the time Spencer pulled back you were both panting. 

The look he was giving you was like no look anyone had ever given you before. And it told you all you needed to know. 

This man was incomparably in love with you, and would go to the ends of the earth for you. This man would do anything for you. 

He’d made some mistakes, but so had you. Life wasn’t always perfect, there would always be bumps in the road. But with any luck the hardest hurdles were now in your past. 

He loved you and you loved him and it was just as simple as that. 

“I don’t want the best days of my life to have passed me by. I want it all, Y/N. I want to get married, I want to have more kids. And I want it with you.”

“It really is a good job we don’t both work at Georgetown anymore, two Doctor Reid’s is just confusing.” You laughed.

“Well I think it could be done. There would just be the hot Doctor Reid and the other Doctor Reid.” He shrugged, his eyes sparkling playfully.

“Which one am I?” 

“You will never know, my love.” He chuckled, pulling you close again and kissing you slightly more fiercely than was appropriate for the current setting. 

Before things could get too hot and heavy, Elijah whined, tearing the two of you apart. You both moved to his stroller and looked down on him.

“Hey little man, what seems to be the problem?” You stroked his wrinkly forehead. 

He kicked his tiny legs, blowing little spit bubbles in his mouth. Spencer cooed at him while you continued stroking his head. 

Within a few seconds he calmed down again, perhaps he just wanted some attention. Baby’s and dogs weren’t all that dissimilar, Taco had a penchant for whining when he wanted attention. 

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if you wanted a drink.” Spencer stood back up and picked up his club soda. 

“Just water, please. I’ve been feeling a little queasy again this morning.” You rubbed your stomach. 

“Hopefully that’ll pass soon.” He kissed your cheek before getting the bartender's attention again and ordering you a glass of water. 

Soon after handing it to you, Daisy and Lily in their beautiful dresses, carrying bouquets, were heading your way. 

Spencer saw the coy smile Daisy sent in the direction of her boyfriend and it made his stomach tighten. How he wished he could slow down time so his daughter never got older. 

“You need to go sit, it’s starting in a minute.” Daisy demanded. 

“Sit please.” Lily echoed. 

Spencer looked between his girls and you and little Elijah who could now barely keep his eyes open. He was flooded by nostalgia, weddings always did have that effect on him. 

The girls turned to leave, to finish their rounds but Spencer stopped them. 

“Hey, pumpkins?” His voice cracked a little as he spoke. 

“Stop it.” Daisy frowned at him, hearing the way his voice broke.

“Stop what? Spencer frowned back. 

“I can see you getting sappy. Don’t do it. Please, dad?” She begged him.

“Yeah please, dad?” Lily repeated.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He looked over at Elijah again. “I just miss when you girls were that little. When you needed me.”

You slipped your hand in his, giving it a squeeze to try and tether him to the present before he went down a rabbit hole into the past. 

Daisy and Lily looked at each other, communicating subconsciously in the weird way sisters seemed to be able to do. 

“We’ll always need you, dad.” Lily spoke as they looked back at him. 

“You will?”

“Of course, you’re our dad.” Daisy shrugged.

“We love you.” Lily insisted. 

“I love you both so much.” His voice cracked again, eyes misting with tears.

“Oh god,” Daisy groaned. “Do not cry. Stop it.” 

“Make him stop, Y/N.” Lily looked at you pleadingly. 

“I wish I could.” You chuckled, giving his hand another firm squeeze. “But you know your dad, he’s an emotional kind of guy.”

“We can’t stay little kids forever, dad.” Daisy offered him a slightly sad smile.

“I know, I know.” He nodded, using his free hand to wipe his eyes before any tears fell.

“But hey, at least you get to do it all over again.” Daisy shrugged, nodding towards your belly. 

“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke to you from the bed of the Caesars Palace Honeymoon suite. 

“Yeah?” You called back from the bathroom. 

“Let’s make a baby.” 

You frowned to yourself and put down your toothbrush, padding back into the bedroom.

“Excuse me?” You leant against the doorframe, your new husband lying naked on top of the covers.

“Let’s make a baby.” He repeated.

You’d come off your pill a week or so ago after you’d discussed wanting to try for a baby at some point in the future. You were still using condoms though and Spencer still never finished inside of you. 

“Right now?” You questioned.

“Why not?” He shrugged. 

“We literally just got married like five hours ago.” You laughed, stepping further into the room. 

“I don’t want to wait.” He reached for you as soon as you were close enough, pulling you down to the bed. “Let’s make a baby.” 

Your hand involuntarily went to your growing stomach, the one that you could barely fit inside this dress. You were at fourteen weeks and only just starting to show, it wouldn’t be long now before none of your clothes fit you.

“That is true.” Spencer looked at you with a smile that lit up the entire room. 

He was now for three for three. Three times in his life he had unprotected sex, finishing inside of someone, and all three times he had gotten them pregnant. He often wondered if he had some kind of super sperm. 

He placed his free hand on top of yours on your stomach, on the future addition to his pumpkin patch, to his crazy, slightly unconventional family. 

He wouldn’t change his past, wouldn’t change Daisy and Lily or the way they were brought into the world. But this new baby growing inside of you, you at his side as his wife; this was the life he chose and the life you both chose to make.

“Anyway, you seriously need to go and sit down, mom will be pissed if you miss this.” Daisy snapped him out of his revere. 

“Please don’t use that word.” Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Whatever,” Daisy shrugged. “Come on Lil, let's get the others.” 

Lily happily followed her sister while the two of them rounded up all the guests and motioned them towards their seats. It wasn’t lost on him the way his youngest lit up when Michael LaMontagne smiled at her.

He swore one day he would be at their wedding. 

Spencer glanced around and spotted Matt and Kristy hand in hand, closely followed by Emily and Tara who were chatting between themselves as they found seats near JJ and Will. He looked back at you, tears now back in his eyes.

“Don’t.” You shook your head. “I am a hormonal mess as it is. If you start crying, I will too.” 

“Sorry,” he sighed wistfully. “I’m just so damn happy.” 

“Me too, Spence.” You agreed, leaning in and kissing him. “Me too.” 

The two you hung back with Elijah now asleep in his stroller while everyone else took their seats. Your own eyes took in the room, the girls, the BAU members and everyone in between. 

This family had found you and accepted you as one of their own with open arms. The Reid family, the BAU family, without really meaning to you’d become a part of something you never knew you’d always wanted. 

It may be slightly unorthodox, but it didn’t make what you had any less special. In fact in your eyes, the oddness of this family dynamic made it even more exceptional. And you wouldn’t change a single thing. 

Spencer let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, placing a soft kiss on your head while reaching for the stroller with his free hand.

“Looks like it’s just me and you, angel.” He held you close, he always held you so close. 

You glanced at Elijah before looking back around at all the faces in the room.

Daisy and Lily were waiting by the doors with their baskets of confetti, awaiting their cue to take to the aisle. Bobby stood proudly at the end, his best man at his side as they waited for the music to begin.

You looked over at JJ and Will, at Penelope and Luke; Matt and Kristy. You surveyed Tara, Emily and Rossi before you looked back to your husband. 

“Yeah,” you smiled as you leaned closer to him, closing your eyes and breathing him in as though it was the very first time. “Just me and you and everyone we know.” 

@foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @weridothatwrites

[keyotos]

i'm yours tonight

summary ⎯ late nights w/ dan heng. inspired by my sleepover hcs.

tana's words ⎯ having HELLA dan heng brainrot rn. also i'm getting through everyone's requests ASAP!! i just wrote this bc im having major writers block rn.

tags ⎯ fluff. unestablished relationship but the feels are there. oblivious idiot (you). reading together (real).

"psst. dan heng, are you awake?" you whispered. you were crouching down next to him on the floor, head circling his figure as you tried to find out if he was awake or not. it was the early hours of the morning and you felt slightly guilty for waking him up.

"now i am," dan heng shuffled around until he faced you. "what is it?"

"i can't sleep," you laughed dryly, "again. do you have a book i could borrow?" you stood up. dan heng wanted to pull you down by your hand so you could be back on his level. he reached out slightly and then shot his hand down.

dan heng stumbled out of his floor mattress. charming, he thought to himself. he moved towards his bookshelf as you followed him. you stood so close to dan heng that he started feeling goosebumps on his neck; the warmth of your breath making him shiver.

"what are you in the mood for today?" dan heng asked as he started browsing his shelf.

"anything, really," you sighed. "something boring? i've been having trouble sleeping for the past few days," you rubbed a hand over your temples.

"have you been alright?" dan heng swiftly turned to face you, all thoughts about the book forgotten.

"yeah," you rubbed your eyes, "i've been fine. you don't have to worry about me," you beamed through your drowsiness.

i always worry about you, he wanted to say.

"dictionary?" dan heng pulled out the book, emphasizing its thickness.

"words. perfect," you wiggled your eyebrows. you grabbed the book and flipped through a few pages. it's condition was pristine, as always.

"thanks, dan heng," you looked at the book and then looked back up to him, "hopefully i'll be able to sleep soon," you held onto the book tighter. for some reason, you wanted to stay in this room; stay with dan heng.

dan heng parted his lips, in awe of how you still look gorgeous even when you're exhausted, "no problem," he gulped, "if you need another way to sleep faster, i know a good herbal tea recipe."

"i might have to take you up on that offer one time," you smirked, "if you hear three knocks on your door, just know it's me."

dan heng laughed, "noted."

you waved goodbye and started walking out the door. you intentionally started walking slower than usual, in hopes dan heng would offer you tea right now. you didn't feel like going back to sleep, especially going back to sleep alone.

you stopped in your tracks. dan heng didn't move; he examined you, wondering if you forgot something or not.

"is it okay if i stay in here?" you turn back around, walking slightly closer to him, "i don't feel like falling asleep alone tonight."

dan heng raised his eyebrows in shock, facial expression slightly contorted, "i⎯uh. are you sure?"

hearing his reaction made you want to shrivel into your body. his confused tone made you worry, "um. yeah," you looked down at the floor, "unless you don't want me here. that's fine!" you looked back up at dan heng.

dan heng blushed at your disconcerted state, "no. you're welcome to stay if you'd like," you're welcome to stay all the time, "but my bed is uncomfortable. do you really want to stay in the archives?" he raised his eyebrows as a way to affirm your answer.

"oh!" your entire figure stood up, "i'll stay wherever you are, to be honest," you had no idea of the affect one sentence had on dan heng. while he was trying to hide his blush, you continued, "but if your bed is a problem, we'll just stay in my room."

"are you sure⎯" dan heng was cut off.

"yes," you vigorously nodded your head. "why else would i offer?" you wrapped your arm around his neck, "okay! let's move!"

dan heng keep rubbing his neck on the way to your room. when did it get so hot? luckily for him, he felt his warmth drain when he reached your room. it was freezing: definitely below (at least) 67 degrees. and then he noticed the heap of blankets lying on your bed, which explained so much.

"make yourself at home!" you waved your arms around, as if you were showing a grand prize. you flopped onto the bed and proceeded to wrap yourself in the blankets.

dan heng, on the other hand, chose to lay on top of the covers for two reasons. the first reason being, if he had gotten under the covers with you, he feared that he'd be too flustered to even face you. the second reason was he may burn up.

"are you gonna get under here?" you asked, shuffling around your mountain of blankets, "it gets really cold at night."

"i'll be fine. don't worry about me," he shrugged. as he tried to light the lamp on your nightstand, you grabbed his hand before he could turn it on.

"quoting me now?" you teased.

"i⎯" he paused. "i assure you, yn. i'll be fine," trying to hide his gaze from your eyes. your hand on his feels so blissful. your grip, so light and calming.

"and i assure you," you hold on tighter, "you're gonna be cold tonight. like, freezing. i saw your body react to when we came in here. you were about to shiver," you recognized his body language? "don't be stubborn. c'mon."

hesitantly, dan heng made his way under the covers. he could feel you next to him, your body radiating heat the blankets could not. unknowingly, he gravitated towards you, so much so that the two of you were touching knees.

"feel better now?"

"slightly, yes."

"you do," you dragged on the syllables in a sing-song way. you opened up the dictionary and began to read inside your head. well, struggling to read. it was dark and you insisted to not turn on the lights (it disrupts REM sleep, you said).

"give me that," dan heng grabbed the book out of your hands. though you try to protest, he holds the book out of your grasp.

while you try to reach for it, you end up sprawling yourself all over dan heng's body. at some point, you went from simply pressing your chest up against his to practically straddling him.

dan heng tried to take his mind off of your position; he focused on keeping the dictionary out of your hands. it was fun, teasing you. if his arm was standing in one place it would've been easier to reach, however, dan heng possessed a sense of agility you knew nothing of until tonight.

when you exhausted yourself in your efforts, you crashed down on top of dan heng. for someone who was (apparently) adept on dan heng's body language, you didn't notice how his chest was rising unevenly, how is breaths were more shallow and hitched. you concluded that his warmth occured from how many blankets were on top of him, and not the fact that you were practically centimeters away from his lips.

"how else am i supposed to sleep if i can't read," you mumbled in his ear, too worn out to talk at a normal volume.

dan heng tilted his face away from yours, scared that something would happen if he had gotten too close, "i'll read for you."

this time, you hauled yourself off of dan heng's body, now opting for leaning into his side, "how? you can't read in the dark either?" you leaned your head on your hand so you could look at dan heng. dan heng was grateful for the dark, otherwise, if not for the dark, you'd be able to see how red he was in the moment.

"i actually can," he opened the book, flipping through the pages to find the most boring words. you shook your head in disbelief; there was no way he could actually read in the dark (he could).

you shuffled through the blankets once more, trying to find the cold spot on the bed. the cold spot was nice, but it wasn't satisfactory, for you could not hear the sounds of dan heng's voice. so you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder yet again.

"quintessence: the most perfect or typical example of a quality or class," dan heng read out. you found that his voice started lulling you to sleep already.

"do you think people just make these words up and they just appear in the dictionary?" you slur out, consciousness slowly fading away.

dan heng softly chuckled, "maybe," he flipped through more pages, "tintinnabulation: a ringing or tinkling sound."

you laughed into his bicep, "are you sure you're not the person making these words up?"

dan heng wanted to sear your laughter into his skin, "i'm not. are you about to sleep yet?"

"i'm sleeping now," you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, "mimimimi⎯"

dan heng delicately smacked the dictionary on your face, "sleep," he stressed. when you moved yourself closer to dan heng, he couldn't help but pull you slightly closer. maybe it was the facade of exhaustion donning on him, or maybe it was because he wanted you closer.

as he felt your breathing slow and listened to you get less chatty, he knew you fell asleep. he set the dictionary aside and tilted his head down to look at you. how could one look so enchanting while sleeping? he carefully stroked your eyebrow, an endearment he used only for you, and pulled you closer into him.

when you two woke up in the morning, none of you dared to discuss how you were practically entangled and intertwined together.

bonus:

"i think that was the best sleep i've ever gotten," you laid on dan heng's shoulder. "your voice put me to sleep."

dan heng, trying to avoid even closer contact, "so are you saying my voice bores you?" he teases.

"what!?" you take your head off of his shoulder. though dan heng avoided the encounter, he wished for your head to come back down; he missed how his heart began to race with you near.

"no! your voice is just⎯ really peaceful. and calming. and nice," you try to explain yourself. when you see a slight smirk threatening to show on his face, you scowled. "it's too early for this," you playfully shoved him away from you, missing his smile on the way.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Sphinxmumps Linkdump

On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

Welcome to my 20th Linkdump, in which I declare link bankruptcy and discharge my link-debts by telling you about all the open tabs I didn't get a chance to cover in this week's newsletters. Here's the previous 19 installments:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Starting off this week with a gorgeous book that is also one of my favorite books: Beehive's special slipcased edition of Dante's Inferno, as translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, with new illustrations by UK linocut artist Sophy Hollington:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/beehivebooks/the-inferno

I've loved Inferno since middle-school, when I read the John Ciardi translation, principally because I'd just read Niven and Pournelle's weird (and politically odious) (but cracking) sf novel of the same name:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inferno_(Niven_and_Pournelle_novel)

But also because Ciardi wrote "About Crows," one of my all-time favorite bits of doggerel, a poem that pierced my soul when I was 12 and continues to do so now that I'm 52, for completely opposite reasons (now there's a poem with staying power!):

https://spirituallythinking.blogspot.com/2011/10/about-crows-by-john-ciardi.html

Beehive has a well-deserved rep for making absolutely beautiful new editions of great public domain books, each with new illustrations and intros, all in matching livery to make a bookshelf look classy af. I have several of them and I've just ordered my copy of Inferno. How could I not? So looking forward to this, along with its intro by Ukrainian poet Ilya Kaminsky and essay by Dante scholar Kristina Olson.

The Beehive editions show us how a rich public domain can be the soil from which new and inspiring creative works sprout. Any honest assessment of a creator's work must include the fact that creativity is a collective act, both inspired by and inspiring to other creators, past, present and future.

One of the distressing aspects of the debate over the exploitative grift of AI is that it's provoked a wave of copyright maximalism among otherwise thoughtful artists, despite the fact that a new copyright that lets you control model training will do nothing to prevent your boss from forcing you to sign over that right in your contracts, training an AI on your work, and then using the model as a pretext to erode your wages or fire your ass:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

Same goes for some privacy advocates, whose imaginations were cramped by the fact that the only regulation we enforce on the internet is copyright, causing them to forget that privacy rights can exist separate from the nonsensical prospect of "owning" facts about your life:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/the-internets-original-sin/

We should address AI's labor questions with labor rights, and we should address AI's privacy questions with privacy rights. You can tell that these are the approaches that would actually work for the public because our bosses hate these approaches and instead insist that the answer is just giving us more virtual property that we can sell to them, because they know they'll have a buyer's market that will let them scoop up all these rights at bargain prices and use the resulting hoards to torment, immiserate and pauperize us.

Take Clearview AI, a facial recognition tool created by eugenicists and white nationalists in order to help giant corporations and militarized, unaccountable cops hunt us by our faces:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/20/steal-your-face/#hoan-ton-that

Clearview scraped billions of images of our faces and shoveled them into their model. This led to a class action suit in Illinois, which boasts America's best biometric privacy law, under which Clearview owes tens of billions of dollars in statutory damages. Now, Clearview has offered a settlement that illustrates neatly the problem with making privacy into property that you can sell instead of a right that can't be violated: they're going to offer Illinoisians a small share of the company's stock:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/06/14/clearview_ai_reaches_creative_settlement/

To call this perverse is to go a grave injustice to good, hardworking perverts. The sums involved will be infinitesimal, and the only way to make those sums really count is for everyone in Illinois to root for Clearview to commit more grotesque privacy invasions of the rest of us to make its creepy, terrible product more valuable.

Worse still: by crafting a bespoke, one-off, forgiveness-oriented regulation specifically for Clearview, we ensure that it will continue, but that it will also never be disciplined by competitors. That is, rather than banning this kind of facial recognition tech, we grant them a monopoly over it, allowing them to charge all the traffic will bear.

We're in an extraordinary moment for both labor and privacy rights. Two of Biden's most powerful agency heads, Lina Khan and Rohit Chopra have made unprecedented use of their powers to create new national privacy regulations:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

In so doing, they're bypassing Congressional deadlock. Congress has not passed a new consumer privacy law since 1988, when they banned video-store clerks from leaking your VHS rental history to newspaper reporters:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

Congress hasn't given us a single law protecting American consumers from the digital era's all-out assault on our privacy. But between the agencies, state legislatures, and a growing coalition of groups demanding action on privacy, a new federal privacy law seems all but assured:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

When that happens, we're going to have to decide what to do about products created through mass-scale privacy violations, like Clearview AI – but also all of OpenAI's products, Google's AI, Facebook's AI, Microsoft's AI, and so on. Do we offer them a deal like the one Clearview's angling for in Illinois, fining them an affordable sum and grandfathering in the products they built by violating our rights?

Doing so would give these companies a permanent advantage, and the ongoing use of their products would continue to violate billions of peoples' privacy, billions of times per day. It would ensure that there was no market for privacy-preserving competitors thus enshrining privacy invasion as a permanent aspect of our technology and lives.

There's an alternative: "model disgorgement." "Disgorgement" is the legal term for forcing someone to cough up something they've stolen (for example, forcing an embezzler to give back the money). "Model disgorgement" can be a legal requirement to destroy models created illegally:

https://iapp.org/news/a/explaining-model-disgorgement

It's grounded in the idea that there's no known way to unscramble the AI eggs: once you train a model on data that shouldn't be in it, you can't untrain the model to get the private data out of it again. Model disgorgement doesn't insist that offending models be destroyed, but it shifts the burden of figuring out how to unscramble the AI omelet to the AI companies. If they can't figure out how to get the ill-gotten data out of the model, then they have to start over.

This framework aligns everyone's incentives. Unlike the Clearview approach – move fast, break things, attain an unassailable, permanent monopoly thanks to a grandfather exception – model disgorgement makes AI companies act with extreme care, because getting it wrong means going back to square one.

This is the kind of hard-nosed, public-interest-oriented rulemaking we're seeing from Biden's best anti-corporate enforcers. After decades kid-glove treatment that allowed companies like Microsoft, Equifax, Wells Fargo and Exxon commit ghastly crimes and then crime again another day, Biden's corporate cops are no longer treating the survival of massive, structurally important corporate criminals as a necessity.

It's been so long since anyone in the US government treated the corporate death penalty as a serious proposition that it can be hard to believe it's even happening, but boy is it happening. The DOJ Antitrust Division is seeking to break up Google, the largest tech company in the history of the world, and they are tipped to win:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

And that's one of the major suits against Google that Big G is losing. Another suit, jointly brought by the feds and dozens of state AGs, is just about to start, despite Google's failed attempt to get the suit dismissed:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/google-loses-bid-end-us-antitrust-case-over-digital-advertising-2024-06-14/

I'm a huge fan of the Biden antitrust enforcers, but that doesn't make me a huge fan of Biden. Even before Biden's disgraceful collaboration in genocide, I had plenty of reasons – old and new – to distrust him and deplore his politics. I'm not the only leftist who's struggling with the dilemma posed by the worst part of Biden's record in light of the coming election.

You've doubtless read the arguments (or rather, "arguments," since they all generate a lot more heat than light and I doubt whether any of them will convince anyone). But this week, Anand Giridharadas republished his 2020 interview with Noam Chomsky about Biden and electoral politics, and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind:

https://the.ink/p/free-noam-chomsky-life-voting-biden-the-left

Chomsky contrasts the left position on politics with the liberal position. For leftists, Chomsky says, "real politics" are a matter of "constant activism." It's not a "laser-like focus on the quadrennial extravaganza" of national elections, after which you "go home and let your superiors take over."

For leftists, politics means working all the time, "and every once in a while there's an event called an election." This should command "10 or 15 minutes" of your attention before you get back to the real work.

This makes the voting decision more obvious and less fraught for Chomsky. There's "never been a greater difference" between the candidates, so leftists should go take 15 minutes, "push the lever, and go back to work."

Chomsky attributed the good parts of Biden's 2020 platform to being "hammered on by activists coming out of the Sanders movement and other." That's the real work, that hammering. That's "real politics."

For Chomsky, voting for Biden isn't support for Biden. It's "support for the activists who have been at work constantly, creating the background within the party in which the shifts took place, and who have followed Sanders in actually entering the campaign and influencing it. Support for them. Support for real politics."

Chomsky tells us that the self-described "masters of the universe" understand that something has changed: "the peasants are coming with their pitchforks." They have all kinds of euphemisms for this ("reputational risks") but the core here is a winner-take-all battle for the future of the planet and the species. That's why the even the "sensible" ultra-rich threw in for Trump in 2016 and 2020, and why they're backing him even harder in 2024:

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ckvvlv3lewxo

Chomsky tells us not to bother trying to figure out Biden's personality. Instead, we should focus on "how things get done." Biden won't do what's necessary to end genocide and preserve our habitable planet out of conviction, but he may do so out of necessity. Indeed, it doesn't matter how he feels about anything – what matters is what we can make him do.

Chomksy himself is in his 90s and his health is reportedly in terminal decline, so this is probably the only word we'll get from him on this issue:

https://www.reddit.com/r/chomsky/comments/1aj56hj/updates_on_noams_health_from_his_longtime_mit/

The link between concentrated wealth, concentrated power, and the existential risks to our species and civilization is obvious – to me, at least. Any time a tiny minority holds unaccountable power, they will end up using it to harm everyone except themselves. I'm not the first one to take note of this – it used to be a commonplace in American politics.

Back in 1936, FDR gave a speech at the DNC, accepting their nomination for president. Unlike FDR's election night speech ("I welcome their hatred"), this speech has been largely forgotten, but it's a banger:

https://teachingamericanhistory.org/document/acceptance-speech-at-the-democratic-national-convention-1936/

In that speech, Roosevelt brought a new term into our political parlance: "economic royalists." He described the American plutocracy as the spiritual descendants of the hereditary nobility that Americans had overthrown in 1776. The English aristocracy "governed without the consent of the governed" and “put the average man’s property and the average man’s life in pawn to the mercenaries of dynastic power":

Roosevelt said that these new royalists conquered the nation's economy and then set out to seize its politics, backing candidates that would create "a new despotism wrapped in the robes of legal sanction…an industrial dictatorship."

As David Dayen writes in The American Prospect, this has strong parallels to today's world, where "Silicon Valley, Big Oil, and Wall Street come together to back a transactional presidential candidate who promises them specific favors, after reducing their corporate taxes by 40 percent the last time he was president":

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-06-14-speech-fdr-would-give/

Roosevelt, of course, went on to win by a landslide, wiping out the Republicans despite the endless financial support of the ruling class.

The thing is, FDR's policies didn't originate with him. He came from the uppermost of the American upper crust, after all, and famously refused to define the "New Deal" even as he campaigned on it. The "New Deal" became whatever activists in the Democratic Party's left could force him to do, and while it was bold and transformative, it wasn't nearly enough.

The compromise FDR brokered within the Democratic Party froze out Black Americans to a terrible degree. Writing for the Institute for Local Self Reliance, Ron Knox and Susan Holmberg reveal the long shadow cast by that unforgivable compromise:

https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/045dcde7333243df9b7f4ed8147979cd

They describe how redlining – the formalization of anti-Black racism in New Deal housing policy – led to the ruin of Toledo's once-thriving Dorr Street neighborhood, a "Black Wall Street" where a Black middle class lived and thrived. New Deal policies starved the neighborhood of funds, then ripped it in two with a freeway, sacrificing it and the people who lived in it.

But the story of Dorr Street isn't over. As Knox and Holmberg write, the people of Dorr Street never gave up on their community, and today, there's an awful lot of Chomsky's "constant activism" that is painstakingly bringing the community back, inch by aching inch. The community is locked in a guerrilla war against the same forces that the Biden antitrust enforcers are fighting on the open field of battle. The work that activists do to drag Democratic Party policies to the left is critical to making reparations for the sins of the New Deal – and for realizing its promise for everybody.

In my lifetime, there's never been a Democratic Party that represented my values. The first Democratic President of my life, Carter, kicked off Reaganomics by beginning the dismantling of America's antitrust enforcement, in the mistaken belief that acting like a Republican would get Democrats to vote for him again. He failed and delivered Reagan, whose Reaganomics were the official policy of every Democrat since, from Clinton ("end welfare as we know it") to Obama ("foam the runways for the banks").

In other words, I don't give a damn about Biden, but I am entirely consumed with what we can force his administration to do, and there are lots of areas where I like our chances.

For example: getting Biden's IRS to go after the super-rich, ending the impunity for elite tax evasion that Spencer Woodman pitilessly dissects in this week's superb investigation for the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists:

https://www.icij.org/inside-icij/2024/06/how-the-irs-went-soft-on-billionaires-and-corporate-tax-cheats/

Ending elite tax cheating will make them poorer, and that will make them weaker, because their power comes from money alone (they don't wield power because their want to make us all better off!).

Or getting Biden's enforcers to continue their fight against the monopolists who've spiked the prices of our groceries even as they transformed shopping into a panopticon, so that their business is increasingly about selling our data to other giant corporations, with selling food to us as an afterthought:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-06-12-war-in-the-aisles/

For forty years, since the Carter administration, we've been told that our only power comes from our role as "consumers." That's a word that always conjures up one of my favorite William Gibson quotes, from 2003's Idoru:

Something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It's covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth, no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.

The normie, corporate wing of the Democratic Party sees us that way. They decry any action against concentrated corporate power as "anti-consumer" and insist that using the law to fight against corporate power is a waste of our time:

https://www.thesling.org/sorry-matt-yglesias-hipster-antitrust-does-not-mean-the-abandonment-of-consumers-but-it-does-mean-new-ways-to-protect-workers-2/

But after giving it some careful thought, I'm with Chomsky on this, not Yglesias. The election is something we have to pay some attention to as activists, but only "10 or 15 minutes." Yeah, "push the lever," but then "go back to work." I don't care what Biden wants to do. I care what we can make him do.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/15/disarrangement/#credo-in-un-dio-crudel

Image: Jim's Photo World (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/jimsphotoworld/5360343644/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[anna-hawk]

Distraction

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank can be incredibly distracting without realizing it.

Warnings/Tags: pretty much silly PWP, vaginal sex, bearded Frank

WC 2,2k // Explicit 🔞

This was meant to be part of the Beardthal Bash, but I didn't have the time to finish it until now. It's inspired, once again, by the look Jon has in the GIF by @darlingshane just below. He makes me absolutely weak looking like this, and this little fic shows it 😅. Check out the full gifset for more drool worthy Jon.

Catching yourself staring again, you pressed your lips into a thin line in annoyance at yourself and dropped your eyes to the documents you were supposed to be going over on the coffee table. 

“He’s only fixing a freaking shelf, get a grip,” you mumbled under your breath, while you tried picking up where you’d left off and adjusted your position on the couch. 

You jotted down a few notes before you stopped to think, and your gaze automatically moved upwards to land on Frank. Again. Rubbing a palm over your forehead, you pursed your lips at your boyfriend, who was completely unaware of your predicament since he had his back to you. He had the day off and after running some errands earlier that morning, he’d decided to take up repairing that one bookshelf that always looked crooked for whatever reason. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, you were unable to not stare at him. The issue actually lay in how he looked. He’d let his hair grow out again, the soft strands falling to the sides or into his face, and he was sporting a nicely groomed beard instead of his usual thicker one. You loved the fuller beard, but the trimmed version definitely did something for his jawline. If that wasn’t enough, he’d gone for a pair of jeans that hugged his long legs and ass, while a red tee shirt spread over his back and chest. He looked completely at ease, since those clothes were comfortable and simple. There wasn’t anything fancy or specific about them, but the look as a whole was turning you on wildly and driving you to complete distraction. Something you really didn’t have the time for. You wanted to be done with that boring paperwork and move on. You had considered going into the bedroom, but you didn’t have enough space and the printer was in the living room and…

As Frank raked his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face, which caused the shirt to ride up and reveal a large part of his lower back, you threw your hands in the air with an explosive sigh. 

“Frank?”

“Hm?” he replied distractedly, as he checked the level of the shelf. 

“Would you mind finishing with the shelf a little bit later?”

Frank turned around and gave you a surprised look. 

“Uh, sure? Am I makin’ too much noise?”

“What? No, no, you’re not. You’re just really distracting,” you said, before you could stop yourself. 

“Distractin’?” He cocked an eyebrow and put the screwdriver on the shelf. 

Your mouth worked silently and you ended only nodding. There was no way you were admitting to why he was so distracting. 

Frank approached you with a partly curious and partly amused smile, his lips pulling up to one side. 

“But I ain’t bein’ noisy,” he asked for confirmation. 

“You’re not,” you replied with a faint nod as you glanced at the documents before you and not the gorgeous man coming closer. 

How did your request of him to stop the repairs backfire on you like this? Now you didn’t only have him right in front of you, but you also had his full attention. Chancing a brief look up at him, you saw him watching you attentively, obviously waiting for you to elaborate. 

“Your… shirt’s distracting me,” you blurted out stupidly. 

“My shirt,” he deadpanned. 

“Yeah, just…” You made a shooing motion as you got up to head for the printer sitting on a small desk behind the couch, trying for nonchalant, but not succeeding in the least. 

Frank snorted from behind you at your behavior, and you soon felt his presence at your back. Of course the man wouldn’t listen to you. 

“So it’s just the shirt? What if I take it off?” 

“No!” You whirled around with wide eyes, knowing that a topless Frank would only make things worse, especially when his scent was already doing things to you. 

Frank smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. 

“I meant that I could change into another one.” 

You blinked at him and cleared your throat. “Oh… uhm… that’s…”

“Wanna tell me what exactly is distractin’ you, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, his voice lowering. 

You were standing so close now and Frank’s eyes were boring into yours with an intensity only he knew how to use. 

Briefly looking away with a huff of a laugh, you slightly pursed your lips and shrugged. 

“You,” you muttered with a small wave to indicate his whole form. 

“And how exactly? I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.” He tilted his head to one side, eyeing you curiously from under his lashes. 

“Just don’t, Frank,” you groaned and closed your eyes for a second. 

“Don’t what?” he chuckled. 

He was the worst. 

“Come on, I need to get this done,” you whined, lifting your hands to push at his chest as he moved in closer. Well, push really wasn’t the word, since you didn’t put a lot of force into it. At all.

“Tell me,” he coaxed with a rough voice, while he was leaning in to graze his lips over yours, his hands going to your hips. 

“Frank, I need to finish this,” you whispered desperately, but Frank only kept going. “You just look fucking hot,” you finally admitted when his mouth trailed towards your jaw. 

Frank lifted his face a bit to look at you. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you huffed through heavy breaths. “The hair, the beard, the shirt, the jeans… just… I need to finish filling those in, and you’re being so …ugh… Can you go do something else now?” you practically pleaded. 

Frank laughed lightly under his breath, but instead of pulling away, he leaned in again. His tongue moved into action now, the tip gently stroking over your upper lip and making you whimper. 

“Frank”, you tried, as your eyes closed on their own accord while Frank maneuvered you until you were standing with your back to the couch again. “Need to…”

“Yeah, I know, baby, but I don’ think you’d be able to concentrate now. How ‘bout you lemme take responsibility for distractin’ you?” 

As he cupped one side of your face, his tongue licked over your bottom lip now. He hadn’t really kissed you yet, but you felt as winded as if he’d kissed you breathless. Your legs shook and it didn’t take any effort on his part to get you to sit down and lean back until you were lying flat on the couch with Frank slipping between your thighs. 

“You’re leaving the apartment once we’re done,” you pouted while simultaneously wrapping your legs over the back of his thighs. 

Frank’s loud bark of a laugh had your stomach jumping happily, right before your heart accelerated when Frank finally sealed your lips with his after he gave you a nod of agreement. His beard scraped over your mouth, and you loved the contrast of his soft lips and the coarser hairs of the short beard. You lifted your hands to his head and stroked your fingers through his hair, getting a low grunt from him whenever you pulled at it lightly. Frank made quick work taking off both of your tops, before his mouth was at your jaw once again and trailing a row of kisses all over it and down your throat. While he was busy driving you crazy with his mouth, his hands went to your pants to open them, before he leaned up far enough for him to pull them down along with your underwear. You were now fully naked under him, while he was still half clothed. The sight of him, with his flushed chest and large bulge in his jeans, had you squeezing his thighs with yours and reaching down for his fly. Frank grinned as he looked at your eager hands before he leaned down on top of you for another deep kiss. About to complain that he was stopping you from opening his jeans further, you could only gasp when one of his hands slipped between your legs and two large fingers stroked through your folds. Frank groaned into your mouth at your long moan of pleasure when his fingers slowly slid inside you one after the other. 

“Frank, please,” you breathed through the kiss, as you gripped at his shoulders while he was gently fucking you with his fingers. “Please, don’t tease me.” 

Frank made a soft humming sound before he lifted his head to slowly caress his lips over yours with the faintest of touches. For a second, you thought that he wouldn’t listen to you and tease you some more, something you usually did enjoy and Frank knew it, but he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he knelt up. Your hands instantly shot down again, finishing what they’d started as they opened the jeans all the way and then pushed them down as far as possible to free his length. As you leaned up to try to get the pants lower, Frank grasped your wrists and gathered them in one palm before he was pushing you down on the couch again, your hands held over your head on the armrest. 

You could feel his breath hitting your skin as you both panted, your faces only a few inches away from each other, while Frank’s eyes bored into yours. Taking his weight on the hand holding yours captive, Frank used his other hand to guide himself inside you. You were unable to look away from his intense gaze as you gasped loudly when he slowly entered you, never stopping until his hips were flush with yours. Frank stayed like this for a few long seconds, until you keened and moved your hips instead, wordlessly begging him to move. Move he did, but he didn’t thrust. He gyrated his hips, grinding them into yours and making you feel his whole length as it moved inside you. It was the sweetest of torture, since it wasn’t enough to actually get you anywhere, but the pressure of his thick cock rubbing along your inner walls felt incredible all the same. 

“Frank, please,” you repeated, while your legs wrapped around his hips, and you tried to use the leverage to move up and down a bit, but Frank forced your hips down. 

You whined and looked into his eyes. You needed him to move so badly, it was driving you crazy. 

“Frank,” you gasped, eyes wide. “Please. Need you to make me come. Need you so much.” 

You knew that begging and asking for what you wanted would always get you exactly that, and you sometimes teased him with that knowledge, but you weren’t playing now. You truly needed him. 

As expected, Frank instantly complied. 

“Anythin’ you need, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, right before he pulled almost all the way out, only to snap his hips forward again. 

You cried out in bliss as your legs trembled over the back of his thighs, while Frank thrust inside you over and over again. 

“You gonna come for me like that?” he asked in a low voice, as he shifted his hips just so when he adjusted his grip on you. 

You could only nod, wide-eyed, as you hurtled towards your release. The orgasm took your breath away completely, leaving you with your mouth parted, but with no sound coming out of it for the first few seconds. Your next inhale was a shuddering gasp and a long moan, your whole body trembling with the force of your pleasure. Through the intensity of it all, you barely had the time to see Frank’s eyebrows coming together as his eyes closed as he came as well, his warm release shooting far inside you. You caught his mouth with yours as he leaned down to share a long and uncoordinated kiss, before he pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your hands after another beat, letting you stretch your arms out before you wrapped them under his arms and around his back to hold him to you. 

“Think you can focus on those documents now?” Frank smiled, as he pressed a small kiss to your lips. 

You groaned and shut your eyes at the reminder, which had Frank chuckling under his breath. 

“Promise I’ll behave,” he added with a grin, as he rose but remained kneeling between your legs. 

“Go put on a hoodie, yeah?” you grumbled half-heartedly, accepting the hand Frank was extending to help you up. 

Frank nodded and vanished into the bedroom, while you headed into the bathroom to clean up. 

As you walked back out a few minutes later, fully dressed and presentable again, ready to deal with the paperwork, you skidded to a halt at the sight of Frank. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” you yelled, pointing at his chest. “You’re supposed to zip up the hoodie or put on a shirt and not…” you flailed your hands around. “Show off your chest, for crying out loud. Okay, out.” You pushed at Frank now, intending to have him leave like planned, but Frank laughed and caught your hands before kissing you on one corner of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he amended, making a show of zipping the hoodie up over the top of his chest when it had been open far under it at first, showing far too much skin for you to handle. 

“Thank you,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes and returned to the coffee table, sitting down in front of it. 

Now, where did you stop again?

[iamthecomet]

Dear Comet, if you are still accepting prompts - Please - thrusts into your hands my fav rarepair - Cowbell/Aeon #20.

Ok, so like, I have barely written Cowbell, so I was worried about doing him justice, but the second I put these two together it all just...happened. I get it. They are just SO good together. YOU ARE SO RIGHT. Here's 700+ words of Aeon being so sweet to Cowbell (AS HE DESERVES).

Aeon spent his first few months topside unsure of Cowbell. Watching the older ghoul from afar. Fascinated by his outright refusal to even pretend to be human. Movements too fast, too sudden. They’ve gotten to know each other slowly. Aeon slipping into his orbit when he can. Walking next to him on their way to the gardens. Sitting next to each other at Mass. 

Aeon gathers bits and pieces. Finds Cowbell strangely secretive. Speaking in a rasping whisper most of the time. But Aeon loves his stories. Stories of his time on the road. Of his small moments on stage. Of the pit. Aeon hangs on every gravely word as Cowbell recounts. 

Aeon finds him easier to talk to than some of the other ghouls. The band ghouls especially. He knows he’s one of them now but that still doesn’t feel right. They feel like they’re on a pedestal above everyone else whether they want to be or not, and Aeon doesn’t know how to climb up to stand next to them–he doesn’t know if he wants to. 

“You never take your mask off,” Aeon observes, one warm spring day. They’re sitting in the center of Primo’s hedge maze. The fountain in the middle of the clearing bubbling away. The air smelling like lilacs and fresh tilled dirt. Cowbell sighs, slides his  finger over the sharp jaw of his mask. 

He has an older one–there are quite a�� few ghouls around who still wear them. Mist, Omega, most of the working ghouls who were summoned during that era. Aeon knows Dew has one–has seen it on his bookshelf. He suspects Dew puts his old uniform on sometimes in an attempt to disappear. 

“Not a pretty sight, kid,” Cowbell huffs out, dropping his hand to lean back on it. To tilt his head up toward the sun like he can feel it on his face through all that metal. 

“I showed you mine,” Aeon offers, pointing to his own maskless face, his damaged left eye and the scars surrounding it. Cowbell turns his head to look at him. Aeon can see his eyes narrowing behind the mask, thought, maybe. Or he’s about to tell Aeon he doesn’t know what he’s talking about–that he can’t possibly understand. 

Instead, Cowbell sits up, he sighs, and takes his mask in both hands, lifts it. He settles it down on the grass between his knees and takes his time before he looks over at Aeon. It gives Aeon time to study his profile. The wild dark hair. A jawline, sharp like the one on the mask. Crooked noise, pale gray skin. One thin horn curving back over his skull, deadly sharp at the point. The other broken off near the base, rough and jagged. 

When Cowbell turns, Aeon gasps. He’s gorgeous. Scarred yes, but most ghouls are somewhere. His face made of sharp angles, cut glass. Eyes, lined with dark make-up, looking almost owlish, one glittering violet, the other vibrant amber. 

Aeon can’t help but touch him. Can’t stop himself from reaching out and cupping that razor sharp jaw in his palm to see if it will hurt him. But instead, what he gets is Cowbell leaning into that touch. Eyes fluttering closed, breath heaving out in a sigh. 

Aeon isn’t stupid. He knows what privilege he’s been given. Knows that Cowbell doesn’t let anyone touch him like this, see him like this. That he has been given a gift that almost no one else here has–to really see this ghoul for who he is. 

Aeon inches closer. Caresses Cowbell’s scarred cheek. Holds him. Studies him. He may never get this chance again–he wants to remember this. To commit every angle, every line, every scar to memory so he never forgets. 

“So pretty,” Aeon mumbles and Cowbell scoffs. Eyes cracking open. 

“Liar.” 

Aeon shakes his head. “Shut up and let me look at you.” 

Cowbell does, eyes still slitted open, watching Aeon’s face intently. 

“Can I?” Aeon asks–doesn’t really know what he’s asking for until Cowbell nods and he does it.  Leaning in to press gentle lips over the scar that bisects a dark eyebrow. And then another over a silverly line cutting across the bridge of his noses. And then his lips are grazing over the scars on Cowbell’s cheek. 

The older ghoul chuckles. “What are you going to do, kiss them all?”

“Maybe.” Aeon mutters, lips dragging over Cowbell’s temple. 

“We’ll be here all day.” 

Aeon hums, unbothered not pulling away. Tasting salt and metal on Cowbell’s skin. “Good.” 

[gallawitchxx]

weekly tag wednesday 🤘🏼

i was tagged by @mybrainismelted @energievie @deedala @crossmydna @blue-disco-lights

@gardenerian @sgtmickeyslaughter @heymrspatel @wehangout to play! look at all of these chickens!!! i have the most gorgeous pals 🖤🖤 thank you pals 🥺

name: bee 🐝

location: cali ☀️

did you collect anything as a child? movie tickets! i kept every movie ticket from childhood until college (or whenever it all became digital). i kept them in a little orange tupperware thing on my bookshelf & i'm sure that's now in a box in my parent's garage. there were hundreds, i was such a big movie-goer 🎫

do you collect anything now? after i moved to new york, i started saving every playbill of show i would see. i kept them in a box that i moved around from apartment to apartment. the last place before we moved had building construction that led to a mouse infestation & i literally opened the box to find mice had made a home of it. over a decade of deeply important memories, performances & shows, just gone. anyway, i also have a lot of tarot decks, crystals & books. what is a library, if not a collection? 🙃

what random piece of office equipment do you have a weird attachment to? i really don't know... my computer? i should get more office equipment! 🗑

stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. right arm - dog 🐾 left arm - pillow, phone, book 🛋

do you drive? if so, have you ever crashed? i do & sort of. when i was 17 or 18 i ran my dad's car into a gate in a college parking lot lmaoooo. he was so pissed 😤

you’ve been given $1000 but you can only spend it at one store. which store do you choose? bookshop.org 📚

what is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? i make the first move & then act like it's already been decided. we're friends 💫

whats your go-to flavor for cough drops? original ricola! gimme! 🏔

what does your latest text message from someone else say? "same - one day of fasting won't clear me, but it shows genuine effort" - my wife to our friends about yom kippur hahahAHAHAHA 🥯

what are your preferred pizza toppings? pepperoni & black olives 🍕

tagging @catgrassplantdad @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @howlinchickhowl @iansfreckles

@jrooc @badassfetish @thisdivorce @geonbaeeee & @creepkinginc if you wanna play! if not, this is me lighting a fall candle & putting on the kettle for us 🍁 ☕️ 🕯

[tafferling]

Book Release: Aphelion, The City of a Billion Stolen Souls

Aphelion is a love letter. In incomplete one at that, which is still being written as I make my way through the series. But as each of its seasons is finished, a book gets released! And here we are! My first official 'omg I published something' novel: Aphelion, The City of a Billion Stolen Souls

If you like science-fantasy with soul-harnessing magic and tech, a cyberpunk (or aetherpunk, those two are having fisticuffs) flair, and a slow burn simmering away in the middle of a (mysterious) zombie apocalypse, then Aphelion may just be right for your bookshelf. Literally, because you can buy all of book one's 531 pages in gorgeous print!

What's in it?

In a world where tech runs off the concept of one's soul and where dragons steady cosmic scales, heroes are shaped in the shadow of an ancient grudge. Horizon's Crown was an Earther triumph; a stage at the frontier of the settled systems, a city of hope and dreams and infinite potential. Now, under the watchful eye of its orbital island, it straddles the line between dead and dying; a city of nightmares and endless sorrow. Varrett Vild Vickers belongs into a pilot's chair. He's meant to dodge asteroids, to race dragons, not chase credits so he can pay rent while HC's major demographic clicks its teeth at him and tries to eat his face off. But it's fine. Really. He copes. Or that's what he tells himself, all the way until a woman falls from the sky and turns his already upside-down life very sharply sideways. Armed with nothing but her worst-kept secret and a ledger of lies, Sophya Soulwright tricks her way into Horizon's Crown, looking for not only her sister, but for redemption and a meaning to a life she’s never held dear.  What she finds instead is a city trying its hardest to live, and a man who courts death every step of the way. He's infuriating, tireless, and after a glitch binds their souls together, he is now stuck with her. 

Don't want this chunky darling on your shelf and prefer to read it digitally? Dontchu worry, Taff has you covered. I release Aphelion as a free-to-read web serial, both on Campfire (where you can tip me if you like to get world building extras) and Archive of Our Own. 'cause like I said; Aphelion is a love letter. I just want to write it and share it.

But that doesn't mean I don't want to hear from you if you choose to give it a chance.

Where to find Aphelion:

On Amazon (531 pages, paperback).

On Goodreads (oh gosh I have an author profile there now).

On Campfire Explore (where, if you choose to tip, you may feel the sudden sensation of an ethereal cat slinking around your ankles in appreciation).

And on Archive Of Our Own (where it all started).

BIG BIG BIG thanks to @hermit-writes for her amazing typesetting skills (and book photography) and of course @drawinglinestoconstellations for the cover and interior art.

[mysticficti0n]

All my attention Part 8

warnings- SMUT!!- MDI you have been warned- dom/sub!switch kinda, swearing, smutty to fluffy

words- 2.8k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this one is shorter than I'd like for it to be but I didn't want to go straight into the next storyline for the next part ♡

(hey guys I'm finally back! I'm so so sorry this has taken so fucking long but I've been beyond busy these past few days with school etc and I've had no time to even go on enjoy part 8 guys)

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

Tom's eyes became stern, even from below me he still had all the control, his hands bunched my skirt up around my waist as he pulled me down to his lips "don't be cocky with me alright?" he spoke to my skin "especially if you want to walk tomorrow Y/n" my heart jumped in my chest, I started to grind myself over his hardening in his jeans, his eyes fluttering shut when I hit the right spots, I pulled away from his grasp standing from the bed and sliding my skirt off leaving myself in just my thong, Tom watched me like a hawk his eyes not leaving any part of my body for a second. I turned back to him, his one arm bent under his head as his free hand lay over his bare stomach, I stood over him, my hands running against his thighs stopping at the top of he jeans

"can I?" he looked taken back at me asking, I waited until he nodded his head and I unbuttoned the denim pulling them down his legs revealing his hard on pressing against his boxers, I threw his jeans somewhere in my room and climbed back onto of him, his arm moved to toy with my thong strap

"you forgot to take off these" he grinned letting the material snap to my skin, with that I pushed myself up standing on my knees and looking to him

"I'm waiting" Tom moved quickly, his hands going to my side and ripped the material in two "thank you" I grinned as I kissed his forehead

"your gorgeous" I smirked letting myself lean back onto his clothed cock, the tent looking bigger than before, I let my hand run over him seeing him quiver under it "Y/n- take them off.." my eyes darted to him "please" I nodded, coming of his lap and going between his legs, I pulled the material down his dick sprung free hitting below his bellybutton, my eyes widen at his size, I walked away to my bookshelf, a small noise leaving him as he realised I wasn't near him, I could feel him watching me as I reached into a small pot and opened the lid

"so extra-small?" I teased pulling out a condom from my stash

"hell yeah" he answered, eyes watching my tits as I came back to him, I straddled his hips but faced away from him, his fingers drew shapes along my spine making me shake involuntary, I looked down to his dick, it was god-like, I grabbed it away from his stomach and let my hand swipe down until it reached his base, a noise left Tom as I did it again "f-v..fuck" he hummed. I ripped open the packet and pulled the condom free, I held it against his tip feeling his body tense I began rolling it down his length until my hand hit his skin again. I turned around to face him again, his chest falling slowly "I had a great view" he smiled holding my face

"aren't these better?" I asked as I pressed a kiss to his hand that he placed to my jaw, he nodded, using his hand he hooked it around my neck pulling me to him pressing kisses in a line from my lips to my ear

"now let's put your pretty little pussy to work hm?" he cooed

I bit my lip nodding excitedly siting back so his cock was between my thighs, I rose up onto my knees lining my self up with him, I held him in my hand, his tip grazing my heat. Tom held me gently as I began to sit back down, he fully pushed in and I couldn't stop the words leaving my mouth "holy- fuck Tom" I groaned until I met with his base "ah shit" I breathed, head rolling back

"you're okay Y/n- you can take it can't you?" I nodded, relaxing to his new shape "good girl, talk to me"

"mmh, just-so big" I spoke finally looking back at Tom who's face was softer than before

"just tell me the your ready" I took a deep breath and finally rose on my knees once more, slowly falling again "thats it" he smiled, I found a small pace, rising and falling quicker than before Tom each time threatening to push deeper, his hands clasped to me helping my movement

"Ah! feels so good" I called as his tip brushed my g-spot making my body shudder "Tom right there" I felt him hold me in place tightly as his hips slammed to mine destroying the pace we had before, every time he hit my spot he made my voice turn to pieces "Yes yes yes! God Tom yes!"

"shit- good girl, like that Y/n...so fucking tight" Tom's voice was deep, I watched his lip tuck between his teeth as he pushed me closer and closer to my fall "fuck this" before I knew it he pulled out switching our positions, he towered over me, his arms caging my head in, my legs tangled around his hips as he pushed in again "ugh, fuck you feel so perfect Y/n" I hummed as the knot in my stomach threatened to snap

"deep-deeper please" I squealed, hearing a low chuckle leave the boys lips as he bottomed out, my ass hitting his thighs "FUCK!" I yelled, Tom moved his hand hands to push my legs over his shoulders, pulling me to the edge of my bed, his pace never stopped even when he came off the bed

"you close baby?" I nodded shutting my eyes tightly "no-no I need to see you pretty girl, let me fucking see you" I forced my eyes back open to meet his dark ones "you gonna cum? hum gonna cum Y/n- come on doll cum for me" with his few words I felt a feeling I'd never felt before, legs shaking, heart pounding and my fingers dug into my sheets

"HOLY FUCK TOM" I screamed in pure ecstasy, my world turning blank and every sense in my body heightened all I could think about was the feeling of Tom inside my heat. I fell from my high seeing Tom pulling out and spread my thighs so he could reach my face

"you did so well baby- breathe you're okay alright" I breathed out agreeing with his words, his hand reach to my jaw and he pulled me softly toward him and he pressed kissed to every inch of my face

"that..that was the most I think I've ever came- fucking hell" I panted Tom's face turned proud as he pushed his forehead against mine "did you?" I motioned to his still hard cock and I already knew my answer- "sit on the bed" I demanded standing myself up trying to ignore that I could barley feel my legs

"Y/n it's fine you don't need to-" I pushed Tom down, his arms propping himself up

"shut up alright- you wanna cum?" I asked seeing his smirk turn to a 'O' shape "words Tom"

"yes Y/n" I smiled going to my knees, I was just tall enough to reach his cock, my fingers stroked lines down from the tip to the base curling under the rubber and pulling It off "slowly" he breathed pulling back from the sensitivity, I took the condom and threw it the bin near me and turned my attention back to the burning red tip on Tom. I leaned up more between his thighs and let my face fall inches away from his member, my breath hitting his tip "please- I need you Y/n" he begged making my heart flutter, I came forward pressing a kiss to the red, gently I took his tip into my mouth being careful not to suck yet "ughh" he grumbled, my head got lower and lower until my nose pressed against his abdomen and I came back up letting it go with a 'pop'

"taste so good Tommy" it came out more as a moan and his already hooded eyes narrowed more and without any more thoughts I took him back in my mouth finding an quick pace, his tip pressing the back of my throat making me croak around him, my tongue swirling around his length, Tom's hands dug into the blanket below and I could tell he was holding back so in a smooth movement I grabbed his right hand and placed it to knot into my hair which he didn't hesitate to do, his fingers scrunching my hair into a mess on the top of my head

"god Y/n I'm so close already" his voice was a high pitched whine making a tingle roll down my spine "so good to me- so perfect- fuck I love you so much... shit" I nodded while letting his hand make the pace he wanted, he pushed me down roughly but I couldn't care less, his noises were music to my ears "good girl- fuck princess.... shit you make me feel so good- don't fucking sto-" his hips jerked up meeting with my pumps making him go deeper than before "Y/n I'm gonna cum- Y/n fuck Y/n Y/n Y/n" he chanted in a hoarse tone until "Y/n!" my name fell from his lips as strings of his cum shot into my mouth, I gave him one last lick before pulling off and standing over him as he finally came down form his high, his eyes reopened watching me, teary and lighter, I leaned closer to him, our faces close and I swallowed his load, circling my lips with my finger to get any remaining drops and I sucked them off myself "you are the hottest thing I've ever seen"

"thank you" I pressed my lips to his knowing he'd taste the reminiscence of himself on my tongue "I could say the same" his hands pulled me onto his body, sheen of sweat coating his muscles

"I'm telling you now-" his mouth pressed roughly against my ear, the coldness of his lip ring sending a wave of cool across my skin "your mine understand? nobody will ever fuck you as good as me- and nobody will touch you alright because your mine" I nodded hungrily diving back for his lips

"I'm yours"

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

me and Tom lay in bed still, our bodies intertwined underneath the sheets, his small snores filled the room but I couldn't sleep after that, I was still full of adrenaline. slowly I pealed myself from his grasp and walked still naked to the bathroom turning on the shower and waiting for the water to warm, I looked into the mirror seeing my body for the first time, small bruises pressed into my hips and a hicky under my ear, my hair was still messed from his grip before but I did look hot. I climbed into the shower and let the water run over my body, closing my eyes breathing out

"Y/n?" I groggy voice called

"shower" I called back and Tom walked back with his boxers hung loosely around his hips "wanna join?" I asked seeing his face light up, he pulled his remaining clothing off and hopped in next to me, my ass pressed against his legs, his hands went to my hip dips but a gasp left his lips "what?!"

"did I do these?" he asked rubbing the bruises

"yeah- it's okay, I like them" I grinned turning to face him "have you seen your neck?" I asked running my finger across the rather large purple spot

"its beautiful" I smirked pressing a wet kiss to his lips under the water "you know- nobody has ever made me talk to them or asked to take my stuff off before and I think that genuinely turned me on more " a small laugh escaped our mouths

"I'll be sure to ask again" he nodded pressing his lips to my wet hair, I wrapped my arms around his wet waist and just held him until he hummed into my skin

"aftercare then?" I furrowed my eyebrows to him "don't say you don't know what it is" I shook my head "wait you're not joking?"

"no what is it?" Toms face turned into a look of anger then relaxed again

"well... its when you look after the whom ever you just fucked after the fucking" I nodded listening to him explain all the different things about aftercare until he finally took a breather "so what happened after you a Brian... you know did it?"

"oh well usually he'd kiss me and say be back later, get changed and leave there was only once he actually did come back though..." I looked away from the boy and just grabbed my soap trying to ignore the memories of Brian that tried to push through

"pass me that" his voice was low but sweet "I'm not going to be like him Y/n- now pass me the bottle, let me show you what aftercare really is"

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

we finished in the shower and I never felt safer than with Tom, he was so gentle and caring, asked me if I'd been hurt and if I was sore- he was so different to Brian and so different than the boy I imagined him being.

I was sat at my desk brushing through my now dry hair as Tom watched from a far, towel wrapped around his dreads and waist "how long does it take for your hair to dry?" I asked and he went into thought

"Ermmm like an hour or two but with a hairdryer 20 minuets and I'm done" I nodded standing from the seat and patting it for him to walk over and sit on "you don't have too"

"I'd rather all my pillows don't get damp to be honest Tom-" a cheerly smile appeared on his face, before he sat he pressed a kiss to my lips, not anything hungry or rough it was small and sweet "thank you" I grinned

"I like being able to kiss you- and tell you I love you without feeling like I'm going to get friend zoned" he laughed getting comfy as I pulled the towel from around his head. I watched his face in the mirror as I slowly parted the locks and dried them in bunches, never for one second did he not have a smile along his lips, he was looking at himself, watching me do his hair and he just looked so relaxed

"so are you okay with staying round tonight?" I spoke through the blasting of the hair dryer and Tom only hummed at me so I switched of the dryer and bent to his level "do you want to stay around tonight? I don't want you to feel like I'm holding you hostage" I joked

"well if were being honest here- if you kept me hostage I wouldn't complain, but anyways if you don't mind letting me stay but what if your mom and dad come home and see you in bed with me?" he seemed a slight bit worried so I rest my hand on his shoulder from behind giving him a reassuring squeeze

"they won't be back till 3pm tomorrow so I don't think there will me any issues with that" Tom breathed "so? staying?"

"of course" before I started to dry the last section of hair I quickly pecked a kiss to his cheek which a small blush painted his cheeks. His hair was done and we were both changed into new clothes, Tom had spares which my mom kept In the spare bedroom for some unknown reason, he came out in grey joggers and the shirt folded in hand "I'm to warm to wear this"

"I'm not complaining don't worry" Tom came over to me, looking down and wrapping his arms carefully around my hips, his eyes locked with mine and then his lips, the kiss was slow and romantic in the dull light of my room, my hands found themselves holding his waist and tugging him closer to me until we both fell back onto the bed, him over me but not in a scary way he gently ended the kiss pulling away and smiling to me below "I Love you Tom" are the only words I managed to say and his face turned to one of happiness

"I love you too" we shared one last kiss before climbing beneath the covers with each other, immediately his strong arms curled around me pulling himself closer until he was virtually on top, his head rested delicately in the crook of my neck where he kept pressing little kisses to making me giggle as his lips tickled my skin "today has been one of the craziest but best days I think I've ever lived" I agreed snuggling into his warmth "think I could take you on more dates?"

"I should think so" my free hand massaged his shoulder as I tried to keep my eyes from shutting, Tom looked up a smiling at my weakness to stay awake and pressed one last tender kiss to my lips then my world turned black but I knew I was okay wrapped up with Tom.

[ponyosmom35]

welcome home - Simon Ghost Riley x reader

pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter twenty four

Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She was ecstatic to lead Simon inside, to show him around. Unsure where to begin. She turns to something out and notices him carrying the massive package into the house without the slightest hint of struggle. “Where do you want this love?”

“Oh my god just set it here, thank you” she points to the wall “you didn’t have to do that” she responds, rubbing her hands together nervously. 

“No problem” he shrugs, “what have you got that’s so big?”

“Oh uh thats my bookshelf, I’m turning my office into a library” she smiles 

“How were you planning on gettin that to the office?” he teases 

“I hadn’t gotten that far” 

“Noted” he smirks, placing a band on her lower back “I’d love a tour”

“Right!” she squeaks, her face blushing madly at the feeling of his hand.

She shows Simon the kitchen and all the organizing she’d done in her spare time. As she continues throughout the house explaining everything in what to most would be far too much detail, Simon’s heart swelled. He loved to listen to her talk, it was clear she put a lot of thought into making her space feel warm and welcome. Everything he saw, every decoration, wall print, even the paint color all made sense. It was so beautifully her. He’d never felt so instantly comfortable in an unfamiliar space before. 

She shows him her office where the bookshelf would be and explains her vision, clearly unhappy with the current state of the room. She shows him her bedroom and he takes note of her shift in body language and red cheeks. It was reassuring to him that he had such an effect on her. She leads him down to the steps once more and brings him through downstairs and out to the backdoor. She opens it and they step out onto her deck. 

“So this is the backyard, its a work in progress, my parents and I have been working on it. It looks weird now but trust me there’s a vision” she reassures 

“This is beautiful” he notes

The thoughtful placement of the flowers and the nearly completed stone path leading to the gorgeous willow tree. He could see freshly dug holes where her flowers would bloom in the coming weeks. 

“Thank you! I’m really happy with it, after the path my plan is to redo my entire deck, I want to have an area out here where I can sit out here and read” she says 

“That sounds nice” 

“I think so too” she nods before looking up at him “do you wanna go inside and sit, you must be exhausted” 

“Sure” he smiles 

“Can I get you anything? Water, tea, I don’t have beer but I can Instacart some” 

“Water would be nice” 

“Coming right up!” she grabs him a glass of water while he walks into the living room and sits on the couch, taking note of the TV, playing her music on shuffle. After a minute or so she returns with a bowl of oreos. 

“My favorite, thank you love” 

“I know” she muses as she sits on the other side of the couch, sitting with her legs crossed as she leans her head on her hands. 

“How are you?” she asks 

“I should be asking you that question”

“I’m doing good” she admits softly, rubbing her hands together. 

“I’m glad to hear that” his eyes searched hers for any sign that she might not be telling the full truth. 

“Yeah me too, it’s been hard. Nights are the worst but I’m okay, really” she breathes, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. He reaches over and grabs her hand, holding it gently in his own. She smiles softly and moves his hand to her cheek, leaning into his warm skin. 

“I missed you” she murmurs 

“You have no idea how hard it was to watch you leave, I wish I could’ve been here sooner” he says 

“I don’t blame you” 

“I should’ve been there, should’ve seen it comin’” he admits, referring to Las Almas.

“Don’t say that Simon, there’s absolutely no way you would’ve known Graves and Shepard were dirty” 

“It’s my job to protect you, and I - I didn’t”

“But you did! You saved my life, as soon as I heard your voice a part of me knew I was gonna be okay, that you weren’t going to let anything happen. I was so fucking scared but I still knew that I was gonna be okay. Nobody in this world makes me feel the way that you do” she replies, her words holding so much more meaning than just that day. Recalling back to every moment she spent with him. “Even now, it’s like all of the nightmares and memories, they’re nothing. Sitting here with you makes me feel protected, I feel more secure than I have in months”

“I feel the same” he admits “This place feels familiar to me, like I’ve been here before”

“That’s because it’s been waiting for you” she nearly whispers, looking at him with all the love in the world “I’ve been waiting for you, for so long” 

“I’m here now” he murmurs as he gently pulls her closer to him, moving the pillow that separated them to the ground. “Don’t plan on leaving anytime soon”

“Really?” she asks hopefully as he places a hand on her face, trialing his thumb from her lips to her jaw. “As long as you’ll have me” he responds 

Simon closes the distance between their lips and kisses her gently. Her hands move to his chest as he pulls her closer. She swings a leg around him and moves to place herself in his lap, with her hands guiding her. As she settles he smirks at the little gasp she lets out at the feeling of him beneath her. His hands fall to her waist, groaning as she involuntarily rocks her body against him. He pulls back and looks at her, smiling softly.

“What?” she asks breathlessly 

“Fucking gorgeous” he says kissing her once more. However this one was much shorter, as he didn’t want things to get too carried away. He pulls her into his chest and holds her there, wrapping his arms around her body as she curls into him. 

“Welcome home Si” she whispers in his ear

Both understood that this was their home. The beginning of their new life together. 

Tag list:@vivi123abc

[readyforthegarden]

Season of the Witch - Part Three

Masterlist

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader, Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Synopsis: Danny always told you, you shouldn't play with things you don't fully understand. When trying your hand at magic, you accidentally summon something more than you bargained for. Now stuck, you try to find a way to rid yourself of him, but what if the only way of ridding yourself of him is dying?

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of witchcraft, angst, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!

WC: 3417

The afternoon and evening had been interesting to say the least. Once you’d arrived back to your apartment, Samuel took it upon himself to roam around the small layout. He seemed particularly keen to study your bookshelf, gingerly touching the spines of the books there as he glanced at them. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you plopped onto your couch, watching him as he moved about. 

The way he moved was interesting. Sam didn’t walk, his limbs moved too fluidly to count it as walking. Instead he glided, damn near floated as he made his way through your belongings. Had you had the same body height and wingspan he did, you’d have been a bull in a china shop, constantly knocking things over, tripping over your own feet. Yet Sam maneuvered himself with an otherworldly grace, something that couldn’t be taught or learned. 

“Who is this?” snapping you out of your thoughts, Sam tapped the glass on a picture frame that rested on your bookshelf. He recognized a slightly younger version of yourself, though the wide, happy grin on your face was unfamiliar to him at this point in your…whatever this was. 

You stood up, moving over to where he stood and lifting the photo. Next to you, arm slung around your shoulders, was your mother. Her smile was just as big, if not more captivating. You recalled the memory of the day, and suddenly the words were spilling from your mouth. 

“That’s my mom,” you smiled softly, though you felt your stomach twist slightly. “This was a few years ago, we took a trip to this gorgeous little cabin, it was surrounded by lilacs, and we had booked just at the right time. They were all blooming. We kept the windows open all day and night just inhaling the scent. It was so beautiful.”  you felt your smile fall as you remembered what followed that trip, and set the photo back on the shelf. 

“Is it not a happy memory?” Sam’s dark eyes were locked on you, studying you. 

“It is,” you avoided his gaze best you could, shoving your hands into the front pockets of your pants. “One of my favorites.” 

“Then why-“

“She’s gone.” you cut him off. Ripping the bandaid off the wound, still raw and irritated from your own refusal to deal with it. “She passed away a year ago.” Sam stiffened, straightening up as he glanced over at the photo.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. You assumed it would be a half assed condolence, and in a way it was, though it didn’t feel as empty as you thought it would. “She was very beautiful…you look a lot like her.” You didn’t reply, just gazed at the light reflecting off the red satin that adorned his legs. 

“We should get you some clothes, since you’ll be hanging around for a while.” you turned, glad you kept your shoes on for the few minutes you were home. Grabbing your bag from your spot on the couch, you slung the strap over your shoulder. Sam stayed in place at the bookshelf, and you turned, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Are you coming with, or are you trusting me to pick out your clothes?”

“I’m coming,” he moved to follow you, once again taking up residence in your passenger seat. The air was heavy in the car, more so than it had been earlier when you’d been on your way to find a way to get rid of him. 

“How did she die?” Sam broke the tension. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes, heat prickling your neck at his audacity. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” you shook your head, flicking up the turn signal and checking traffic to pull onto another street. 

“Where’s your dad?” Sam, instead of dropping the subject, decided to change the question. 

“Sam,” a soft warning.

“Do you have any brothers? Sisters?”

“Sam!” You nearly slammed the brakes at a red light, the force tossing both your bodies forward as much as it could with your seatbelts, anything to stop his prying. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” Sam stared at you. 

“Death is a natural part of life. You shouldn’t shy away from it.” Sam sniffed. You rolled your eyes so hard you swore you got a headache from it. 

“I live with it every hour of every day.” you replied lowly. “Now drop it.” 

“Fine,” it was as if the conversation was nothing to him, simply asking about a change in the weather pattern as opposed to your family history. 

“Good…will?” Sam stared at the sign above the store as you parked, one of few cars in the shopping plaza mid-day.

“Yes,” was all you replied, turning your ignition off. You didn’t wait for him as you exited the car and began walking to the store. You knew already in the few short hours he’d been around, he would never let you get too far without him. 

The fluorescent lights of the store almost immediately stung your eyes, the slightly musty smell invading your nostrils. You found yourself drawn to a small display of old holiday decor, Halloween mixed in with Valentine’s Day and Christmas. 

“You expect me to find suitable clothing here?” Sam’s voice was full of distaste as you turned to entertain his complaint. His brows were knit together as he glanced at the racks of clothing behind him. 

“Yes,” you replied flatly, lowering your voice to a near-hiss. “I wasn’t exactly rich before you showed up, but I especially don’t have money to go buy you any fancy clothes. This is what I can afford, got it?” Sam locked eyes with you momentarily before sighing, muttering to himself as he moved toward a rack. 

Surprisingly, Sam kept his mouth shut as he thumbed through the clothing, though his face couldn’t hold back from expressing his innermost thoughts. Only a few items piqued his interest, draping them over his arm while you browsed around the books and movies, debating if you could spare the three dollars on the dvd of a movie you hadn’t seen in a long time, but weren’t sure you wanted to purchase fully. 

“These are satisfactory.” he cleared his throat. You nodded, setting the movie on the rack before  heading over to the checkout, watching the young girl ogle Sam, who was more intrigued by the bright feathery novelty pen sitting in her pen cup. Once the transaction was complete, she practically shoved the bag into your arms as she stared at him, Sam finally noticing and grinning.

“Have a good day,” he pressed a hand to your back as he bid the swooning girl goodbye, the only other acknowledgement he gave her as he ushered you out of the store. Sam took the bag from your arms, holding it lazily in one hand, keeping his palm flat against your spine. Down the shopping plaza there was a dollar store, and guided him into it, gesturing to the toiletries. Sam picked apart every soap scent and every toothpaste, particularly having an internal struggle on if he was going to prefer mint or cinnamon toothpaste. 

He tossed the latter in with the rest of his things, perusing the deodorants and body sprays, scrunching his nose at the pungent scents. 

“Don’t get that one,” you stopped him from reaching for a can with a buck on it. “It smells rancid.” Sam took note of your advice, moving down the row a bit. He reached out again, and you spoke up. “That one will make you smell like you drowned in a vat of sandalwood after one spritz.”

“A connoisseur of gentlemen’s cologones?” Sam asked, only slightly mocking. 

“I’d rather not have my home smell like a teenage boy trying to cover his BO, thank you.” you replied back. This seemed to put a dent in the sarcastic armor he wore, his attitude towards the sprays less than enthusiastic now. The two of you continued shopping for a short while longer before he took the basket from your arm and hooked it on his own, heading toward the register. 

His demeanor stayed sour from your jab all the way home, where he took the bags from the dollar store and breezed past you, entering the bathroom and proceeding to lock himself in. The bag of clothes from the charity shop was in your hands, and you decided to start a load of laundry, tossing them in along with your clothes. The shower was running in the bathroom as you passed it with your basket, and you could feel the humid air from the hot water start to seep from the cracks around the door, prickling your skin. 

When you came back from the communal laundry room, you stood in the center of your apartment. You weren’t sure exactly what to do with yourself again. It felt callous to turn on the TV and start watching something. But, what else was there for you to do? You plopped down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on the television. The picture was crystal clear, almost better in fact, like it had never laid shattered on the floor of your living room. You flipped through the channels, settling on an old slapstick comedy to keep your attention. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been watching the screen, not really taking in the film but letting your mind wander, wondering if Danny or his contacts could figure out a way out of your situation. You were startled by Sam, clearing his throat as he stood at the arm of the couch. He looked…positively normal. A pair of deep, navy blue pajama pants adorned his legs, a gray t-shirt covered his torso. His long hair was damp, and you decided to ignore the whiff you caught of your leave-in conditioner floating from it. 

“Your shower has very good water pressure.” he complimented. You nodded in agreement. 

“That’s why I pay more than the place is worth every month.” you half-heartedly joked. The corner of Sam’s lip twitched, though there was no smile. Instead he took himself over to your kitchen, opening the fridge and bending in half at the waist to peer in. You watched him rummage the meager contents until he pulled out a half-full container of cherry tomatoes that had been on the brink of wrinkling, and the jar of minced garlic you always had on hand. 

Getting up, you moved towards the kitchen, watching him as he helped himself to your cupboards, finding your pots and pans and cutting board. He opened the drawer you had stashed the large kitchen knife in, a soft smirk flickering at the corner of his mouth as he gripped the handle. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cooking us a meal,” Sam replied nonchalantly, dumping out the tub of tomatoes and setting to work on slicing them in half. “I forgot how fast human bodies burn through energy.”

“Is-is this your first human body?” your voice was quiet, a nervous tremble on your lips as you asked. Sam’s lips spread into a sly smile as he glanced up at you from his task. 

“Yes, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been human in it.” you could almost feel the laugh he held back as your confusion. “This is the form I enter your realm in. It always has been.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Only when I’m summoned,”

“How often is that?”

“You have a lot of questions, you know that?”

“You have a lot of vague un-answers.” your reply made him snort, setting down the knife before scooping up the halved tomatoes in his large hands, letting them fall into the saucepan with some olive oil. 

“I have answered a call or two in my lifetime.” he replied, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Were you bound to those people too?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “Those people used the right ritual.” A cherry tomato half soared the small space between the two of you, thumping onto his shoulder and leaving a dark mark on his shirt. “Hey!”

He continued to move about the kitchen, adding salt and pepper to the cooking down tomatoes, a sauce beginning to simmer. The garlic and onion he added filled the apartment with a fragrance that made your stomach rumble. Wordlessly, you grabbed the pot from the stove and moved to the sink, filling it with water. Moving back to the stove in the small space, you reached for the knob to turn the burner on, when Sam’s hand stopped you. 

“What?”

“Light it,” Sam nodded to the burner. You gave him an incredulous look. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” your tone was snotty, but Sam ignored it. 

“Not like that, with your power.” 

“What power?” you huffed, trying to reach for the knob again. Sam stopped you again. 

“You lit something on fire this morning, you can do it again,” he urged. 

“Sam, I told you, it was a trick of the light.” you insisted, pulling back your hand. He stared at you, almost blankly until his eyes scanned you, and with a nod he turned back to the stove, stirring around the thin sauce, adding seasonings he’d taken from the small spice rack on your counter.

“My little fawn, you may be able to lie to yourself but I know what I saw.” Sam gave you a look from the corner of his eyes before briefly gesturing to the stove, flames rising under the pot. You let the silence settle between you both for a moment, the only sound was the wooden spoon scraping gently against the bottom of the pan, sauce simmering around it. 

You had moved to grab a package of noodles from a cupboard, opening it as the water in the pot began to boil. Sam was turned, the spoon he was stirring with raised, one of his hands underneath to catch any spilled droplets. He said nothing, merely gestured towards you with the utensil. Against your better judgment, you leaned forward, letting your lips meet the edge of the spoon. The sauce was delicious, for how few ingredients you had available. It was rich, the basil and oregano he had added warming your tongue. 

“It’s good,” was all you said, licking your lips as Sam smirked knowingly. You finished the task you had started, dropping the noodles into the large pot, grabbing another large spoon and stirring them a bit, before adding a healthy pinch of salt to the water. Sam continued to stir the sauce gently, turning down the heat as you tested a few noodles before confirming their doneness. He stood back as you took the pot back to the sink, pouring out the noodles into a strainer before bringing it back. Sam shooed you away as he lifted the saucepan and poured it on top of the noodles. 

Again he helped himself to your cupboards, fishing out two plates, and scooping the pasta onto them, before finding two forks, placing them on the plates. He picked them up, gliding into the living room and setting them down on your small coffee table. Unlike Danny, you’d never gotten around to having a kitchen table of any sort, finding most of your meals were alone on the couch or over the sink. 

“I should go get your clothes from the wash,” you said quietly. You left the apartment, going to the laundry room and fishing Sam’s clothes from the washing machine and into the dryer. Once you were back, Sam stood up from the couch, almost startling you. 

“You okay?” Sam nodded, gesturing to the pasta, still steaming on the plates. 

“I waited for you,” you gave him a half-smile, coming around the coffee table and taking a seat on the edge of the couch. Sam followed your suit, clearing his throat as he reached forward. He had taken it upon himself to grab napkins, which in your home were just flimsy pieces of cheap paper towel, and spread one over his knee, before staring at you. 

“Oh,” you leaned forward, grabbing your own “napkin” and spreading it over your leg too. He seemed satisfied and took his plate in his large hands, picking up the fork and beginning to swirl the tines in the noodles. Following suit, you gathered the pasta onto your fork and blew on it gently before taking the bite. You let out a small hum of approval not realizing that Sam was once again watching you, before digging back into his meal. 

The two of you ate in silence for a bit before he cleared his throat. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” you shot him a look, wary in the small space between your bodies on the couch. “What made you try to cast a spell like that?” 

Heat flamed in your cheeks. In the moment, the idea had been brilliant. However, facing the consequences had you nearly squirming in embarrassment. 

“I was trying to curse my ex.” you mumbled, hastily shoving more food in your mouth. Sam regarded you carefully before proceeding. 

“What did they do to make you so angry?”

“Cheated.” was all you replied, your appetite leaving you. The quiet between you was heavy and you cleared your throat. “I’ll be right back,” you placed your plate and napkin on the table, and stood up, going to your room. Shutting the door, you slipped your phone out of your pocket and dialed Danny’s number. 

“I don’t have any answers yet,” was all he said when he picked up the call, disappointment in his voice. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed. “I just wanted…I just wanted to apologize again. For lying to you and for dragging you into this mess.”

“I can’t say it’s not the worst one you’ve dragged me into,” Danny chuckled under his breath. “but one day we’ll laugh about it.” 

“I hope so,” you bit the tip of your thumbnail, pacing a bit. 

“Are you okay?” Danny asked softly. 

“Yeah…just a little overwhelmed I think.” 

“We’ll get you out of this, if it’s the last thing I do.” Danny assured you. “Get some rest, okay?” 

“Rest, yeah.” you nodded, slightly distracted by the sound of dishes softly clattering out in your apartment. “I’ll talk to you later…and thanks, Danny.” hanging up with him, you went back out to the main room, seeing Sam in the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, rinsing off your plates and staring out the window boredly as he washed them. Since he was busy, you went back to your room, rifling through your closet and pulling out some old sheets and blankets. Grabbing a spare pillow from your bed, you headed back to the living room, and began setting up a bed on the couch. 

“It’s not much, but,” you gestured to the set up once you were done, Sam entering the living room. “It’s better than nothing. At least tonight you have a pillow and blanket.”

“Thank you,” Sam quietly made his way over to the couch, pinching the blanket you’d laid out between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Your clothes should be done in the dryer, I’ll go get them.” you moved towards the door but Sam stopped you.

“I’ll go,” he beat you to the door, his hand already turning the knob. 

“The laundry room is on the left!” you called after him, watching the door shut. Leaving him to his laundry, you went to the bathroom, beginning to brush your teeth and wash your face before bed. You took your time between each step of your routine, letting it soothe your jangled nerves. Once finished, you left the bathroom, and only made it a step towards your bedroom before you heard Sam call out.

“Fawn?” Peeking around the corner, you saw Sam already under the blanket on the couch, his new clothes folded neatly in a pile on the coffee table.

“Yes, Sam?” you quirked an eyebrow. “Need a bedtime story?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I only wanted to say, your ex must’ve been incredibly asinine to have cheated.” heat rose to your cheeks again. “I hope you know that the real curse is for them not being with you now.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, not sure how to feel about how Sam was speaking to you. “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, little fawn.”

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

@joshsindigostreak @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @myownparadise96 @demonrat444 @dannyandthekiszkas @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet@gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @infinisonicosm @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @hearts-hunger @fwzco @dharma-divine33 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @ascendingtothestarsasone @klarxtr @ofthecaravel @musicspeaks @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dammm1256 @jordie-gvf @demonrat444 @misshunnybee @valleydollgvf @brookes-so-done @age0fwagner @starcatcherxstevie @amethystars @jakesguitarsolo @lolidontknowwhat @lyndz2names @godly-sinsx @dannythedog @anthemheatwave @samomf

[soulsforsales]

Professor Steven Grant x Reader

Warning: This is my first fic (Idk if that should be a warning but I am scared lol), fluff, age gap, no use of Y/N, sorry for any grammatical mistakes

Summary: You always had a weak spot for nerds but Steven Grant might just be the man of your dreams.

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader (yes, we do have Marc and Jake in the next chapters!)

Thankyou @ivystoryweaver for your ideas and support <3

Chapter 1

It is a warm Tuesday afternoon in October. You are browsing the books in the "classics" section at the bookstore. Usually, you come to the bookstore on weekends but you've decided to meet a friend this week, so here you are.

Your eyes roam the bookshelf along with your hand in a straight line until you hit something. Someone. You step back, an apology already on your lips until you turn and see the man beside you and suddenly you are at a loss for words. You stare at him.

Normally, if you run into someone at the bookstore you would just turn away and apologize, which happened a lot since you were always lost searching for your book but it wasn't a rom-com movie where anyone you accidentally stumble upon turns out to be your soulmate - but, god, right now you wish it were.

Honestly, you have seen your fair share of good-looking men, but this guy was, you dare say it, gorgeous.

He had a defined, sharp jawline with dark brown eyes, and his hair was a mess of curls. He was wearing baggy clothes but it suited him just fine and a messenger bag slung on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry,' you hear him say and he gives an apologetic smile. O.K. If you thought he was good-looking a moment ago, his smile was absolutely beaming - and it wasn't even a real smile. 'You okay?' He asks, his fingers grazing your forearm for the slightest second, bringing you back to life. He is looking down at you, confused. Really? Could he not see what he was doing to you or did he not know how good-looking he was?

You nod, saying, 'I am fine. Sorry about that.' He waves his hand in front of his face, 'No worries,' he replies with a smile. He looks a bit older than you, thirteen years or some.

You are staring at him again. You can feel yourself getting red. So embarrassing.

'That's a nice book you've got there,' he says, pointing to the book in your hands that was now wrapped around your chest. The blush on your cheeks deepens, he doesn't notice.

"Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte" you trace your fingers over the cover of the book.

'Yeah,' you say, pushing the book closer to yourself, 'you too.' Alright, you do not know why you said that, but he was holding a book and it only felt right to return the compliment.

Or maybe you are just really bad when it comes to conversations with someone who's got you fawning.

He shows the book to you, "The Ennead" it reads. Suddenly, you are intrigued. Yes, you work for a textile company but History, especially Egyptian, has always been interesting to you. And before you know it, you are both somehow in a long, elaborated conversation about the Ennead, Egyptian history, and the pyramids.

He knew so much that it left you speechless. You could only admire him as he kept spitting engrossing Egyptian facts as if it were the weather report. He talked animatedly, with his hands moving and his eyes gleaming. His hands, wow, his perfect, sleek hands were totally distracting you from his stories.

He stopped abruptly when his phone rang. He was telling you something about Ammit, the sinister goddess of the Underworld but he had to stop and pick up the call.

He held the phone close to his chest, saying, 'Looks like I'll have to leave.' He looked like he was in a hurry but he glanced at you once more before walking out the place, as if he wanted to say more.

He disappeared soon as if he'd never even been here.

Your heart is beating fast and it feels almost as if, you have never had a conversation like this one before. Maybe it was the person more than the conversation itself.

You didn't even ask for his name, you wince at the realization. You should've totally asked for his name.

Maybe you'll see him again.

For some reason, you are sure you'll see him again.

•------🌙

You are a few feet away from the coffee shop's door when you notice your friend. She's sitting at the table with someone, you can't really see who, and is typing aggressively into her laptop.

Your friend is in the last year of her University, she's a year younger than you. You always knew that University was not your thing but you'd attended it anyway because your parents wanted you to and being exceedingly wealthy, they had proposed to pay your study loans for you.

So now you have a full-time job, a good paycheck, and an apartment of your own without any piles of loans above your head. While your friend, still in Uni was drowning in projects and assignments and you knew she needed to loosen up a bit, hence, the reason you two were meeting today.

You enter the shop with a smile, but it drops the moment you notice who your friend is with. You freeze a few feet away from the table. You couldn't be sure if it was him but the resemblance was there.

Your friend looks up from her laptop, noticing you. She waves at you, grinning, which makes, whoever it is, sitting in front of her turn to you.

You almost trip. He looks even better than the last time you'd seen him. He was still wearing baggy clothes, his hair tousled and curly but it looked purposely done. And he was wearing glasses, red colored glasses perched on the top of his nose. Adorable.

You always had a weak spot for nerds but he might just be the man of your dreams.

Your friend asks you to come over and have a seat and you do. You can tell that he remembers you. He's been staring at you ever since you walked in and you can't breathe. What's happening to you?

Your friend, however, is oblivious, she introduces you to the man, telling him your name and he introduces himself, 'Steven Grant,' he says, shaking your hand clumsily. You nod. His hand, oh god, the handshake sent tingles all over your skin.

'He was just helping me with a few assignments, thank you so much for this,' your friend adds and after telling her that it's no big deal Steven leaves the table to get his order.

You watch him go. Steven Grant. You had met him at the bookstore almost a week ago and yet, you couldn't stop thinking about him. It felt foolish but you'd never, in your life, daydreamed about a guy the way you'd daydreamed about Steven Grant.

'Stop drooling,' your friend says interrupting your rail of thoughts. A blush spreads on your cheeks. You aren't drooling... are you?

'How do you know him?' You ask her

Your friend grins, 'he's my history professor.'

Your jaw drops, 'he's a professor?' You repeat, placing your hands on your chest dramatically, 'he's like everything I've ever wanted.'

She chuckles, 'You should ask him out. He's exactly your type and I am sure he's single.'

Your eyes turn to Steven who's now getting his coffee, 'how's he still single?'

'Because he's the most awkward person you'll ever meet and the only friend he has is a goldfish named 'Gus', it is one-finned or something. He loves talking about it,' your friend tells

You smile to yourself but your heart's hammering against your chest and you know you'd never have the courage to ask him out.

'I could never,' you say, biting your lower lip. Before your friend can reply Steven comes back with a flask that the barista had filled for him.

Your friend smirks as she closes her laptop and leaves the table the next moment. You silently beg her to stay but it's too late.

Steven looks at you and you can't stop blushing. You are praying that your complexion doesn't give it away. 'Correct me if I'm wrong,' he speaks sweetly, 'but... have we met before?'

Your cheeks redden, 'yeah,' you say, 'Yes actually, at the bookstore... that day, I - I had no idea that you were, would be - what a coincidence, right?' You give yourself an imaginary facepalm. Someone must remind you how to form a coherent sentence again.

'You're at University too?' He asks

You shake your head, 'Oh no, not anymore.'

Steven smiles in reply and you two fall into an awkward silence. You want to say something - you know you should say something but he hasn't stopped smiling since you arrived and you can't think straight when he's looking at you with those deep, soft, brown eyes.

Maybe you should ask him something about his job - anything would be better than staring at him like an idiot.

You open your mouth to speak but Steven cuts you off, 'that day when we met,' he says, taking his glasses off, 'I wanted to ask you something, actually...' he pauses to take a good look at your face, you can swear you are as red as a tomato by now. 'I was wondering if - if you would want to - maybe - uh, have dinner with me sometime? I was just thinking if...' You don't hear the rest of the sentence. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he asking you out? Was Steven Grant, the man you had been reeling after - asking you out on a date? This felt unreal.

'I'm sorry,' his voice reaches your ear, interrupting your thoughts, 'I think I might be reading too much into it. I understand if you're not interested.'

Your eyes visibly widen at his words. It wasn't that at all.

'No.' You almost yell, 'I - I am interested. I want to, I mean. I would love to go on a date with you.' You are smiling hard and you can feel the butterflies rummaging in your stomach. 'If - if that's what you are implying.' You add.

This is bad.

Steven lets out a small laugh, his cheeks turning pink, 'Yes. Yes, th - that's what I meant.'

You grin, not because you want to but because you can't help it. He's so nice and so absolutely beautiful.

Steven fiddles with his sleeves nervously, saying, 'Well, there's this really nice restaurant down the street. They have all kinds of food options. I - I was thinking maybe we could, you know, check it out.'

You nod, still smiling. Still feeling the butterflies in your stomach. He looked ten times better when he smiled.

'Yeah,' you say, 'yeah, sounds great.'

'I'll see you tomorrow then? If - if that's okay with you. I get off work at 5'

'Tomorrow's good.'

'Yeah?' He's smiling with his eyes now, crinkles appearing around them and oh, you could just die.

Steven's expression softens as he starts to get up, 'I am terribly sorry, love,' he says, with a weak smile, 'I would really like to stay but I have to leave now - I have a meeting at work. I could, uh, text you the details, though?'

You tell him that it's alright and exchange phone numbers.

'See you tomorrow, then?' He asks, sliding his messenger bag down his shoulder, his curls toss as he fixes the strap and you fight the urge to push your fingers through them. You really wanted to.

'It's a date then,' you say, biting your lower lip. It was hard to contain your giddiness.

'I'll call you.' He says, passing you a little smile before finally walking out the shop.

Oh my god. It happened! You are going out on a date with Steven Grant. You are acting like a teenager getting asked out for the first time but you're too happy to care. You are happy - excited even - for a date, you haven't felt this like this in a long time.

Your friend finally comes back to the table, holding a sandwich in one hand and a coffee cup in another.

'You were ages.' You say, adding Steven's phone number into your contacts

'Was I?' Your friend replies, slurping her drink, 'well, the barista was super cute - not really my fault, besides, what were you chatting with Mr. Grant about?'

You smile. Your cheeks hurt from smiling now but you can't help it, 'I am going on a date.' You tell her, 'With your professor.'

Tagging: @wittyjasontodd (I didn't know if you'd wanted to be tagged since this is not DC related but here it is!), @fandxmslxt69 (bcs I was inspired by your math professor lol >.<)

Anyone who wants to be tagged, just lmk!