#the song isn’t that hard to grasp but what do i know

[spatialwave]

➸ ask: "you're gonna get lipstick all over me" with Viktor while he and reader get ready for an event. I need some fluff right now, I’m grieving )):” — ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 605 ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, lipstick kisses, established relationship, drabble, s1 viktor, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: ok this was so cute to write. going to simply die with all this fluff content you’re sending me!! tysm for asking, love! 🤍 came from this prompt!

A speech and dinner. That’s all Viktor had told you about the event he’d been invited to, alongside Jayce. Enough to understand, but too little to not fully grasp what this mysterious event could be.

You weren’t a councilman, nor were you an academy student. No, you had just been a lucky bird who ran into Viktor one late night when he’d been returning home from the academy, and you were wandering around so you could get things off your mind. It was an off-chance meeting when you stumbled right into him, the song you’d been quietly whistling ripped from your lungs when you toppled backward.

It was fate, the red string, that finally pulled you together. Or that’s what you liked to think.

“So, is this an academy thing?” Your voice rang from your bedroom, perched upon the stool in front of your vanity as you touched up the pink lipstick you’d swiped along your lips, “you’re being awfully quiet about it. What if I dress too fancy and embarrass myself? Or worse, not fancy enough!”

Viktor stepped into the bedroom, hand on his cane as his eyes flickered around the room until they landed on you. Your eyes locked in the reflection, and you turned on your stool, facing up.

You were perfect, wearing a beautiful dress that reached just above your knees. A dress your mother handmade for this occasion, a well-known seamstress in Piltover.

“You look good,” he answered earnestly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “it’s an academy gala, I think. I…” he crinkled his nose, “I don’t really know exactly what it, eh… is. I wasn’t listening when Jayce reminded me.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?” You stood up after packing away your belongings, smoothing down your dress with fingers that had been delicately painted to match the colour of your clothing.

“It’s a fancy Piltover event, they’re all the same. It isn’t a big deal,” Viktor mumbled, looking down and noticing that he’d buttoned up his vest incorrectly, one side lower than the other.

With a sigh, you waltzed over to your lover, hands beating him to the button as you undid them. You were meticulous with your movements, adjusting the clothing along his slender frame once it was rightly fitted.

“Then why do you look so nervous?” Your eyes glanced up to meet his, a smirk pulling one side of your lips up.

“Not nervous,” Viktor rolled his eyes, attempting to pull away, but you were on him too quickly.

“You look good, too. I know you’re worried about it,” you grinned as your lips pressed to his chin, and you peppered a slurry of kisses against his smooth skin. It was enough to bring a smile to his lips, to let his nerves rest.

This was his first event, after all. He had simply withheld the information.

Viktor tried to pull away from your kisses that attacked his cheeks now, grinning like a fool in love, “You’re going to get lipstick all over me,” he groaned, hands grabbing at your jaw so he was able to tear your loving lips from his skin.

He stared down at you, still smiling as giggles erupted from you.

“It’s fine. The colour suits you,” you hummed, knowing very well that your freshly applied lipstick had completely smudged from your lips because there were streaks of pink over his skin.

“You are troublesome, you know that?” he mumbled, trying so hard to be annoyed, but how could he when you looked at him so lovingly.

“Just a little,” you smiled, closing the distance between your lips.

[literatureandshit]

white gays have been so annoying about olivia rodrigo’s song lacy. because they always go in with the same one dimensional ass perspective. as a POC listening to another POC, lacy is literally about her insecurities of being latina and watching as everyone always desires the white girl. being white is seen as beautiful and delicate and ideal. she’s describing lacy in vivid detail because that’s how she wants to look. but no. it has to be about coming the fuck out as if the whole album isn’t about her toxic relationship with a man and how he’s made her feel. it lowkey feels like white gays completely erased rodrigo’s race so it’ll fit their narrative. and that’s annoying

[bigfatbimbo]

Once again , please tell me if you're uncomfortable writing it, but Ford being so starved of touch, having so many places of stimulation touched on his body and being praised that he's accidentally cumming very quickly in his pants during a heavy make out session!

He says a little "Oh! :( " when it happens.

He feels very mortified and ashamed, tries to hide it first to make it unnoticeable (he failed big time at it). His girlfriend reassures him, tells him it's okay, it's hot and there's nothing to be ashamed of. ❤️😭

-🌌

Work Break

700 words,, Stanford x reader

a/n — Couldn’t think of a song title this time, I feel out of character. Also this isn’t proofread.

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, at what point in the series this takes place is unclear, gender neutral!reader, sub!ford

summary — Reader helps Ford take a break from work, he gets a little excited.

You kiss up his jawline and land on his check before he decides to protest, “I have mountains of work that I have to get back too—“

“Just wait, baby,” You make your way over to his mouth, feeling that he’s about to abject again, and so you roll your hips ever so slightly on his slap.

He was half-hard from the attention, and he sucked in breath when you did it. A paper was still in one hand, as he’d refused to give in yet. 

“Y/n—“ He warned, voice now shaky, but was cut off with a disgusting kiss on his lips. 

Your hands explored his body, caressing his chest, and tracing on his arms, before settling on his pecks. For a nerd, he had a wonderful body. You always thought that. 

You broke away from the kiss, drawing a sound of disappointment from Ford, which he tried to cover up by clearing his throat.

“You deserve this, you know,” You remind, tugging at his collar to flash a little bit of skin on his neck. You needed a place to sink your teeth into.

“Don’t be absurd, i’ve barely gotten anything done today. I deserve a slap on the wrist and an order to get back to work— ah— ah—“

You sank into his neck while he was talking, and licked the spot after you were done, “You know that’s not true, Ford.”

And you were being honest. Whenever a new project caught his attention, he acted like it was the end of the world all over again. 

“You’ve done so much already, it’s coming along good,” You pluck the papers out of his hands either mild protest from Ford, and take his hand afterwards.

“Your— doing— so— good—“ You plant a kiss on every one of his fingers inbetween words, Ford blushes and looks away, muttering something about how he’s ‘not necessarily doing good, barley done anything..’ 

To make the make out session a little more to Ford taste, you take his other hand and do the same thing. This time, rolling your hips ever-so-slightly against his, now fully hard, cock.

He whimpered, and you took the opportunity to interlock lips with him again. Pushing your mouths together—with excessive spit, if you’re being honest—you continued the slight roll of your hips he seemed taken with.

At some point, your hands let go of his, and went to his hair. You deepened the kiss once more. In between breaths, you commented things like, “So good, ford,” “You’re so beautiful,” “So smart, baby.”

The entire time Ford had been whimpering into your kiss, hands now placed on the side of your hips and grasping at the fabric on your shirt. His pants had tightened noticeably during this time, and he was hoping you wouldn’t notice the precum beginning to stain the top of his pants. 

You had a way of turning his brain to mush that, surprisingly, he didn’t just allow. He craved. Your attention was positively unmatched, especially when your moving like that, or how your tongue his doing that thing he likes, or how your saying such sweet things and— 

 Oh.

Ford whined uncharacteristically and buried himself in your kiss. His hands moved you down on his lap so you wouldn’t notice what happened. 

It didn’t work. You opened your eyes with a quizzical look and tapped the crotch of his pants, then breaking away fully to look down. 

He was still hard, but it was apparently he’s finished earlier by the embarrassing stain on his slacks.Poor thing. 

“I-i’m sorry, y/n. I got—“ he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically, “—carried away. I guess, uh, I should cleanup and… Oh god, i’m sorry—“

Your face looked sympathetic, as it guided his chin back to meet your gaze, “No, no, it’s fine, Ford really. It’s cute you got so excited.”

His looked lightened at this, but you continued before he could talk. 

“In fact, why don’t we do it right this time? If you’re up for round two.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Are your requests open? If not feel free to ignore this. If so you can also still ignore this but I wanted to ask, could you write how the batboys/batfam would react to a vigilante reader who left Gotham but came back a year or so later?

I don't know if you listen to Noah Kahan but maybe something along the lines of the song “Your Gonna Go Far”? It's just a good song that makes me think of them for some reason IDK 😂

Damian’s was a little angsty but eh. I held this ask off for long enough.

Dick would tease that the reason you came back was because you missed him too much, when in actuality it was more or less the opposite, he missed his fighting crime alongside his vigilante buddy.

‘Fuck off.’ You’d scoff and go to playfully push him, only for him to take it a step further and willingly fall from the rooftop you were hanging out on, and you immediately stood up. ‘Dick?’ You’d call as you peered over the ledge for him. ‘This isn’t funny!’ You shouted in attempt to hide the fact that you were incredibly fearful of the state you’d find him in.

However Dick reappears doing a handstand with a shit eating grin on his face as he used his hands to move towards you, much to your chagrin.

‘I’ll leave again.’ You threatened, crossing your arms over your chest.

‘No you won’t.’ Dick grunts as he got to his feet, still smiling as he got stepped close to you. ‘If you were hellbent on leaving Gotham forever then you wouldn’t have dared tempt the idea of coming back.’

As much as you hated to admit it but he was right, you wouldn’t leave again and even if you did originally want out of Gotham, there was too much work that had to be done here then anywhere else. You were more pretty much done with the whole leaving thing as that didn’t necessarily work out, considering just how fast you abandoned your original plan just to came back to Gotham.

‘I hate it when you’re right.’ You murmured under your breath as Dick chuckles, happy to have you back home, back to him and picking up where you both left off as though nothing had ever happened.

‘So that being all the time, right?’ He asks as he slings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side as you made a face. ‘You’d fucking like for that was the case don’t you.’ You scoffed as you looked at him, one to see him looking back at you with a soft look in his eyes, which was something new even for you seeing as yours and Dick’s relationship consisted of witty back and forth and making lightheartedly fun out of each other.

‘Only if you stay long enough to admit it.’ He says without an ounce of his usual teasing as a silence befell you both as you stared at one another, wondering where life was going to take you now you were back in Gotham.

Jason

‘I was rooting for you to stay away.’ He said upon seeing you kick one of Penguin’s goons in the head.

You shrugged. ‘Hate to disappoint but the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.’ You told him, kicking the goon’s switchblade over the rooftop and into the streets below when noticing his hand itching towards it.

‘It must’ve been at least somewhat greener considering how long you stayed there before coming home.’ Jason sassed, joining in by kicking the goon in the ribs for good measure and you groaned. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still pissed at me for leaving are you?’

Jason scoffs. ‘Noooo, why would I be possibly mad at the fact that you had done it. You managed to escape Gotham and instead of staying out of Gotham and building yourself a future where coming back wasn’t an option, you came back?! Why?! What made you think that was a smart idea?!’ He exclaims and you dropped low to perform a sweeping kick to his feet -taking advantage of his irritation- knocking him flat on his back, grabbing the lapels of his brown jacket.

‘For you DUMBASS! I came back to Gotham for you! I wasn’t about to let you rot in this shit hole without at least knowing someone gave a shit about you! Is that such a fucking hard concept to grasp?!’ You yelled at him but just before you let go of his jacket, Jason was quick to catch your wrists in one of his hands and managed to pin you to the floor as he hovered over you. ‘I don’t believe I ever once asked you to do anything for me, other than staying out of Gotham once you found an outing for yourself.’ He said in a low voice.

‘You didn’t need to.’ You told him, easily envisioning the look of frustration Jason must have on his face under the red helmet. ‘That’s was all my own doing and I don’t regret any of it.’ You grunted. ‘Not even a little. I couldn’t afford to build a future out there because there was no future for me to build when I knew I had a better chance of doing that here with you than anywhere else.’

Jason sighed, ‘you’re insufferable.’ He huffed before letting you of your wrists and standing up to his feet as he holds a hand out to you to take.

‘And you’re still a dickhead.’ You retorted smiling as you eagerly grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up to your feet before bringing you into his arms, holding you tightly where you melted into his body warmth.

‘Your dickhead you mean.’ He murmurs against your head.

‘yeah, my dickhead.’ You smile, knowing that evening was going to be okay from here on out.

Damian

‘I thought you skipped town.’ Damian said as he sheathed his sword.

‘You don’t sound surprised to see me.’ You replied, putting away your twin batons on your back.

Damian shrugs before looking over at you. ‘Why should I be surprised, I did say on the day you left that you’d come back home sooner or later.’ He reminds you as you both over looked the city you both once swore to protect. ‘No one leaves Gotham for long, this city has a way of pulling people back in whether they liked it or not.’

You clenched your fists at your side out of frustration because you knew that he was right, he was always right and you hated it because when you had gotten out of Gotham, it didn’t feel as though you were needed as much to protect the streets. It made you realised that being born and raised in Gotham and learning go hone the skills required to survive had became a vital part of you, a part of you that you couldn’t escape no matter has far away you go from the vile city and make a name for yourself elsewhere.

It ended up not working out and soon you found yourself going back to the place you swore you’d never go back to.

‘You didn’t miss me? Not once?’ You asked all of a sudden.

‘No. You were barely on my mind as I was busy clearing the streets you left behind.’ Damian said but even you could tell that he was lying to himself somewhat.

‘Are you sure I didn’t come to mind? Not even when you’re standing in the locations we regularly rendezvous for missions?’ You asked again.

Damian remains silent this time. Of course he missed you, there wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t resent you for leaving Gotham, for leaving him behind when you both swore to keep Gotham safe together. Admittedly he hated you for a brief time after you left, he tried to burn every memory he had of you to prove that his hatred and resentment towards you was true, and not as an act of heartbreak and abandonment.

However Damian found himself unable to keep that facade up after three month anniversary of your departure, where found himself on the very rooftop he was now, and ironically it was the very same rooftop where you told him you were leaving Gotham indefinitely; looking up to the stars and wishing for your health and well-being whether you were.

‘No.’ Damian snipped, leaving you in a very similar to the way you had left him long ago, alone and conflicted with emotions.

[mahyuume]

THINKIN’ BOUT YOU

— synopsis. not missing you after splitting up would’ve been easier if it wasn’t for everything that reminded of you surrounding him.

pairing. various bllk boys x reader | genre. angst, post-breakup. | mlist

HE THINKS ABOUT YOU STILL, but in denial he does. whenever in public by passing a store you both used to go to as a date or just as a way to give gifts you liked to each other, he thinks of you guys together again. of course, it’s even obvious he misses you. even if he tries so hard to get over feelings he calls left overs, he just can’t. and everyone notices.

he suggests it’s normal to be this hung over a break up, which it is, but to this extent? he’s already bought you apology gifts for how he acted before in hopes of you at least forgiving him and returning to good terms. friends at least. but he doesn’t let anyone know about that, because who would he be if everyone was right about him still missing you?

MICHAEL KAISER, sae itoshi, REO MIKAGE, RIN ITOSHI.

WAS THIS TRULY THE BEST? he gets the whole deal of breaking up and supporting each other from the sidelines, a way of saying ‘oh i still like you but not that way!’ is nice, since your still in each other’s lives… but does it really have to be this way?

he knows that you know small words of praise and encouragement mean differently when it comes between you.

“congratulations on winning today’s game.” you say with a small smile. he returns one and runs off to his teammates, reluctantly avoiding you. though he might avoid you, in the back of his mind, the idea and past memories of the actual ways you’d congratulate him is different.

he thinks back on the winner kisses you’d give him with your big smile that could light up dark tunnels, kisses that could warm a cold face, and a hug that felt like a mother’s embrace.

he wishes you two could’ve ended differently.

ISAGI YOICHI, BACHIRA MEGURU, REO MIKAGE, chigiri hyoma, TABITO KARASU.

HE WANTS YOU BACK, HE CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT YOU. all his friends, teammates, hell even coaches overhear from time to time hear about how much he regrets ending things with you. even if it was for the best (worse in his opinion), he just can’t stand the feeling of letting someone like you go through his grasp.

everyone’s tired of it honestly; by how much he would talk about you during practices, breaks, morning, night, even while eating. his yearning for you is clear, everyone just wants you two back together to shut him up, but he knows better than to contact you after everything. I mean, who calls up their ex begging for another chance?

he does.

OLIVER AIKU, SHIDOU RYUSEI, otoya eita.

EVERYTHING’S OKAY AS IT IS, he thinks. it’s okay you two went your separate ways, because that’s how life goes. though the thought of you makes his head hurt and his heart ache, it’s okay.

he mentally agrees with himself that no matter what happens between you, all he wants is that you’re happy and perfect as you are. even if he isn’t by your side. even if he wants to be; holding your hand, playing games together, watching movies, and regular things couples did.

but it’s okay. everything is okay as it is, he thinks. even if you’re not in his life anymore, since you wanted to pursue the no contact move. he agreed with you that it’s for the best and that you guys should live your lives doing what you must.

even if it isn’t what he wants, even if he hates it. it’s okay, because you’re happy as it is.

NAGI SEISHIRO, HIORI YO, rin itoshi, kurona ranze, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, raichi jingo.

𝜗𝜚. hhehehe did u guys realize title was based off frank ocean’s song,,,, but anyways hi! first bllk fic since like last year or so, and this has been in drafts for a whole year omfg but anyways I hope u guys like this!! please like and reblog if you did hehehwheh…

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Hoodie | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Gif Credit to @billy-crudup

Synopsis: I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

Warnings: She’s angsty babe, Mentions of Murder, The Butcher Mentions, Mentions of Suicide, Cheating/Infidelity, SWAT, Guns, Reader 100% is down bad for Cooper even with what he did, It’s giving Stockholm Syndrome but the reader isn’t captured by him

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4.6K

Author’s Note: You know, you can thank my manic episode for this. Also I know the song has a totally different meaning but, my brain took over and who am I to stop her?

If you would like to be tagged, please fill this out

You'd probably think I was psychotic (if you knew) / What I still got in my closet (sad but true) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Something I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Loss; the fact or process of losing something or someone. No one knows how to properly process loss – though there are no guidelines on the correct way. It comes in various shapes and sizes – not always as transparent as it is expected to be. That’s what makes the human experience so different across vast networks, everyone processes emotions in ways not one human can comprehend. It’s the equivalent to time, there are so many seconds whirling by, impossible it is to grasp how many different processors truly run for one emotion. Some cry, some wither away to nothing, some lash out, some lose their sobriety. A slim majority does not react, because to them – why would anything good stick around? Why do they deserve it? Abandonment is a fickle bitch, and something you got too used to knowing.

Learning that people weren’t a permanent staple point in life was the worst thing for you, because then you started to expect everyone to leave, at one time or another. Maybe that was the countless times it has happened to you talking but, it’s a feeling that never leaves the back of your mind. It sits there, claws at parts of your brain you’re not supposed to use, sinking deeper and deeper into every soft part of flesh until it blackens. The rot taking over, making you feel helpless until pulling away is the only option. It’s a vicious cycle that you can never seem to break, no matter how hard you try. Which sucks, expecting the worst when you more than deserve the best. And the best came in the form of an amazing, well educated, humble man.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

You never anticipated falling in love with Cooper Adams, or Abbott as he is now known. But sometimes you cannot anticipate destiny, but only let her play out. All it took for you was a kitten stuck in the stone foundation of your home, coming to find out four different litters were calling it home. Cooper was the one to find them, rescue all fifteen of them, and even adopt one for the station. He stayed with you as he helped to clear out the deceased bodies, as you cried holding their little forms for feeding, and as you nursed them back to full health. He was never without you, only living two houses over. Never would he lie about where he was, his wife knew all too well – but refused to get in the way of Logan and Riley seeing the kittens. She suspected, but never could find reason.

All it took for you to realize Cooper was your person, was when you were ready to leave for work and found him under your car, jacked up and tire freshly replaced. You didn’t even realize you had a flat, Cooper saw it before he was about to leave for work. He knew that your car was your lifeline, working over forty minutes away. He wouldn’t let you suffer like that, out in the cold and all, freezing your ass off with cold fingers. No, he tossed on a hoodie and cap, put himself to work and was rewarded with the promise of dinner. He held you to that, to the kitchen table, to the kitchen island, to the couch, the stairs, and lastly the bedroom – all in one night. You both knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t lie to himself; What he and Rachel had was over the second Logan turned four. They were coexisting in the same house, playing their parts to a tee without any hesitation. They kept to themselves, saying goodbyes and I love yous in front of the kids – but they knew it was done. It was you who made Cooper feel alive again – made him feel loved. He had lost that so long ago he wondered if it was real for him anymore. You’d do anything for him; Lie, hide, and even believe.

It was obvious from your fourth month into this affair that Cooper was The Butcher – an accidental slip up of coming back to you smelling of cleaning product. It was only obvious from the slight chemical irritation on his forearms, the small hives a clear reaction. It wasn’t a firehouse cleaning product but more of a hospital type – meaning that he got his hands on heavy duty stuff, which he could’ve only gotten without being suspicious through your account. Working in the medical field was a blessing but, in that moment you thought for a second it was a curse. You could see the glimmer he had for you brighten with the inclusion of tears welling, heartbroken you’d have to be his next victim. But that all changed once you held Cooper’s face in your hands, rubbing back and forth on his cheeks as you smile proudly; “I accept you, my love. We can manage, I won’t tell a soul.” If he had been honest, Cooper didn’t trust you at first. But when days turned into weeks, and those turned into months with no one coming after him, he knew he hit the jackpot.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

Tonight, Cooper was supposed to come home to you after taking Riley to see Lady Raven, something she worked hard for over the course of six months to go. Cooper was so proud of her and the great report card she had gotten, you were proud of her as well. Lady Raven was her idol, someone she found solace in when her preteen angst was acting up. Cooper wanted to do something special for her; A night she would never forget for the rest of her life. You remember Cooper saying he visited the box office at the arena right before they closed, buying the last floor seats – the closest Riley could get to Lady Raven. It was everything he could’ve hoped for and more – though he wished he remembered to remove the receipt from his wallet, hiding it in case Riley found out. You knew he wouldn’t come over automatically, he still needed to keep the façade up, act like he was still a family man even though all he wanted to do once the kids fell asleep, was be with you.

With the concert starting early during the day, you knew Cooper wouldn’t come back to you until later tonight, around ten or eleven depending. But you missed him; The warmth of his body as he hugged you from behind, the weight of his arms against your chest, the soft feel of his stubble scraping along your cheek as he nuzzled your neck. You both were in a completely different world when you were together, at the door was his first life – with you was his second. Cooper was always adamant on the two lives not touching, which you could understand. But sometimes you wished they did, wished you could be involved in his first life without the repercussions, it was a fucked way of thinking but, nothing with Cooper made you feel rational. It made you want to be the only one – though that could never happen. At the end of the day he was coming home to you, not Rachel, and that would have to do.

The brisk October air flowed through the open living room window so quickly you didn’t hesitate to wrap Cooper’s hoodie around your torso, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and the firehouse. Cooper loved seeing you in his clothing, how happy it made you, how the gleam in your eye shone brighter with every second you wore it. When the first feel cold breeze of autumn rolled through your house a few weeks ago, Cooper quickly discarded the hoodie he had recently gotten from the firehouse, marking the eighteenth-year anniversary that he started. No effort was wasted when he came up behind you, sliding it up your arms and zipping it up neatly. For a few seconds he patted the shoulders down over your form, seeing how it hugged you beautifully. In that moment you saw it in his eyes; Love, he was in too deep too. From that day forward, you never stopped wearing it when he wasn’t home, needing to feel closer to him. To be one with him.

I used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on) / The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you're still gone) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Someone I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Grabbing at the shoulder of the hoodie, you brought it to your nose for a deep inhale – smiling softly as you smelled Cooper’s cologne, fresh from the other day. Bergamot and pine invaded your nose, causing your eyes to roll back. There was something so intoxicating about his scent, it drove you silently mad in the best way possible – you didn’t want to let that go for anything in the world. It was your way of feeling like he was with you, when he couldn’t be. Your way of grounding yourself in the moment, planning on what you two would do when he came over. Deep into the fantasy you were creating in the moment, you didn’t hear the racing sound of sirens coming down the street – see the bright flashes of red and blue lights flowing through your home, or hear the screaming until it was too late. “Logan, don’t forget to turn in your science project!”

Your ears perked up at the sound of Cooper’s voice, growing giddy at the fact you were going to see him so soon. Opening your eyes you were met with the flashes of police lights coming from the open curtains, your stomach dropping as you heard the garage door close a few houses away. Cooper. Running from the living room to the front door, you slid on your boots quicker than you could have ever guessed, slamming the door open against the wall. With Cooper’s hoodie still wrapped around your body, you walked quickly down the sidewalk where there was a small crowd gathering, seeing a limo, Rachel, Logan, Riley, and even Lady Raven standing outside of the Adams residence, SWAT officers with their guns drawn as they secured the perimeter of the house. You didn’t know what to believe or ask what was going on. But as soon as Riley and Logan ran past you to another woman’s car, you got your answer.

Rachel turned around in slow motion to see Logan and Riley off, in the midst of it all catching your eye in the crowd. Tears were welling in the corners for you, as hers were bloodshot from crying. Her arms wrapped around herself as she let her eyes roam over your torso, seeing the firehouse symbol with the big 18 in yellow font. Her slack face drew up in confusion, then to realization. Your heart was in your throat as you slowly backed away, trying to get a clear angle in the house to see what Cooper was up to. It was only then that everything caught up in your mind. They found out. They all found out Cooper is The Butcher. Your hands grew clammy, starting to shake at what this all meant. If I am ever found out sweetheart, the only way out of it is to kill myself.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this / I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

A sob trickled out of your mouth without you realizing, tears falling heavily as you spun around to face your house. No one was giving you any attention as you cried, all probably thinking someone had died. But to you, he was close to it. With shaky fingers you managed to grab your phone out of the hoodie pocket, unlocking it quickly with your passcode. The first number up in your latest calls was Cooper from earlier today; How excited he was to see Riley so happy, how he was going to make her year with this, how did things go so wrong? Clicking on his name, you brought the phone up to your ear, hearing the three rings before it went to voicemail. “Fuck,” you whimpered, sniffling back a sob you could feel at its crest. Swallowing as you clicked his name again, and again, and again, and again, all until your phone screen went black. “Fuck!” You yelled out as you started to make your way back towards your home, but not before someone caught your arm, spinning you around in place.

You could feel how warm your face was from crying, how the salty tears dried against your cheek uncomfortably. You were shivering but not from the cold, from fear of losing Cooper. Blinking the unshed tears from your eyes, you let your pupils focus on who spun you around, being met with the dull eyes of Rachel Adams, her face stoic, yet scared. “How long?” She whispered, afraid to speak up louder. There was only one right answer, yet you couldn’t muster it out of you. Your mouth fell open to respond but, nothing came out. “Please,” Rachel sighed, her lip in a small pout for a moment as she tried to regulate her emotions. A sad smile came across your lips as you reached forth with your empty hand, holding her hand softly. “I think you know, Rachel.” It was better than giving an exact timeline, and enough to where nosy neighbors didn’t have to know either. Rachel let out the breath she was holding, a fresh wave of tears coating her eyes as she tightened her grasp on your hand. It wasn’t out of malice or anger, but closure. Giving you a smile that matched your own, Rachel rubbed your hand in both of hers, nodding before she walked off to the house.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

It was time for you to do the same; Needing to charge your phone in case Cooper called. You were hoping he didn’t do anything stupid; you were hoping he was okay. “There’s a tunnel to the neighbors yard, he’s not here!” That was the last you heard before stepping back inside.

-----

Nightfall was upon you, the darkened sky matching your mood as you laid on the couch, phone on the coffee table as the news silently drones on in the background. Your eyes were fixated on the TV, fresh tears you had not been aware of were falling, covering the pillow under your head. It had been over two hours since Cooper was found out to be The Butcher. Every new channel was running the story, posting the clips from the venue of Cooper with Riley and Lady Raven. Reporters were outside of the Adams residence, covering every new detail that came up. You were sure that was highly illegal since it was active scene by the FBI, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. Not when your whole life had just been turned upside down. Your boyfriend found out to be a murderer, his wife knowing he was having an affair, everything was a mess.

Any little sound you heard coming from your window you jumped at, hoping it was Cooper. But alas, it was just another reporter staking themselves out on your lawn, wanting a hit of the newest story from this scene. You needed to see the house, everything. You needed to know if this was all real or a bad dream. Laying around on the couch was only going to get you so far – this would give you closure if he was captured, or if something else had happened. Standing up from your position on the couch, you felt yourself getting lightheaded for a moment, shaking off the imbalance for a moment before moving. As you stretched upwards to cracked everything in you, a visceral scream could be heard around the neighborhood – one full of rage and fear, one that made your hairs stand on end. You didn’t think before your feet took off, tripping over your coffee table as you scrambled out of the back door, not caring that it was left wide open. You were taking off quickly down a few houses to where a bigger crowd was starting to form, everyone in their bathrobes and jackets, trying to get in on a piece of the action.

From your angle at Cooper’s house, you couldn’t see what was happening inside but could see multiple SWAT officers going in and out. One of them had long chained handcuffs in their hand, the ones that were attached to the waist and ankles of the prisoner. The clanking of the chains was muted now by the chatter over the radios, quiet enough so not everyone could hear but, if you focused hard enough you could make it out. “The Butcher has been captured. He’s being cuffed now.” In a way you were happy to hear Cooper was just captured, and not dead. You knew how good he was on his word of suicide, not thinking twice about it but, you didn’t want to live without him. The whole life you two wanted to build together, it may not come true now but – that was okay. There was nothing stopping you from visiting him in prison, having conjugal visits – you’d do anything for him.

If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back / If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back

The large presence of officers coming out of the house caused you to focus back on the front door, pushing your way to the front of the crowd to see what was going on. Wearing a blue and red flannel, was your Cooper. Not the clean-cut Cooper the forehouse saw, that his family saw – the one always put together and smiling. No, this was your Cooper; Disheveled hair, manic look in his eyes, a smirk that could light the whole world on fire. He was in his true form, not the fake mask he put on for his family. Seeing that gleam of rage in his eyes made you smile softly, knowing exactly what he was capable of. As Cooper walked out of his home and down the front steps, he stopped halfway down the path, turning to face where you were standing. The SWAT officers had AK’s trained on him, threatening to shoot if he tried anything, but you knew they wouldn’t.

Cooper’s gaze fell to Riley’s bike on the lawn, tipped over from all the commotion. Needing to right this wrong, Cooper knelt to pick it back up, running his thick, calloused fingers over the tires, knowing he may never see Riley grow up. It killed him to think about it; He wanted to take this moment in for as long as he could. You saw the trepidation in his eyes as he stared at the bike, running his fingers over the spokes. It’s when his gaze shifted up to you, that you saw the darkness layered – the glimmer of sinister intentions, one that made your lower stomach ignite. “I love you,” Cooper silently said, mouthing to you as your eyes caught his. All you could do was smile, biting your lower lip as the tears sprang free again; Your arms wrapping around your shoulders as you hugged his hoodie tighter to your body. “I love you so fucking much, Cooper,” you whispered back, causing his own eyes to glisten with tears.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

Behind you a car pulled up quickly to the scene. Quickly jetting out of the van was a curly, blonde-haired girl – who you knew was Riley. “Daddy!” She sobbed out, running out of the woman’s arms into straight into Cooper’s, his hands chained in front of him. Riley didn’t waste a second to hug Cooper tightly, pressing her tear-stained face into his chest. It was a bittersweet moment; From what Cooper always told you, Riley was his little girl, always valuing his opinion on topics and learning the ways of the world from him. He was wrapped around her finger, and silently it was killing him that this may be the last time he was ever going to see her. Cooper leaned his chin against Riley’s head, kissing the top softly, savoring the moment before it was ripped away. “Riley, come here sweetie,” Rachel called out, causing Riley to pull away as she ran. The SWAT officers hands tightened against Cooper’s arm, he spun around to stare at his family one more time before being loaded into the paddy wagon.

Before that door shut, Cooper held your gaze with a primal glare, causing your heart to quicken. A smirk lined his lips as the door shut, only able to see him through the small window of the wagon. You didn’t feel upset or scared that Cooper was going away, because you knew it was bullshit. That look told you everything you needed to know, and it made you excited. Throwing the hood of Cooper’s jacket over your head, you made your way back to your home, locking the back and front door – closing and locking the windows, heading straight for bed.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

-----

Time ticked away as the lights started to die out; The warmth of your salt lamp omitting off cozy energy. Snuggled beneath the comforter, you watched as the last of the police officers and journalists left. The neighborhood had enough craziness for one day, to hear utter silence put you at peace. Everything felt good again; No animosity lingered in the air. But things still felt off, not having Cooper by your side. Watching him get taken away by the police made you sad – but seeing how he said he loved you, made everything so much better. You would wait for him, no matter how long it was going to be. If you had to wait eternity for him, you’d wait two. Cooper was everything to you, and you knew you’d never find love like him again. Even with abandonment heavy on your mind, this time felt different. It wasn’t a slow pullback like everyone else does. No, this was so much less. The look in Cooper’s eyes was a guarantee that he would be with you soon enough, and you’d wait forever to have that.

You felt yourself drifting off to sleep at the thoughts of him, how the previous night he held you close to his chest, playing with your hair as he hummed softly to you. It put you at great ease, feeling so domestic for the first time. The way his right hand boxed you into him, laying right against your stomach. His left was tucked under his head, his chin perched on your shoulder. It was almost as if you could feel the warmth of him now, holding you tightly, peppering kisses along your hairline. His hand snaking its way under your shirt to touch you, rubbing little hearts into your flesh as you sink deeper into him. His broad chest your safe haven, his lips your solace in this dark world, as they move their way down your cheek, to your bare shoulder. “You’re never getting rid of me that easily, princess.” Cooper whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to fling open.

Cooper could feel you tense at the realization he was here, with you, instead of locked up. The excitement vibrating off of you as he helped you turn around. Even with the low light of the lamp next to your bed, you could make out every single feature of Cooper’s face. The lines around his eyes as he smiled at you, the creases of his mouth as his grin grows wider, the softness in his irises as they track a path over your facial features. “I will never leave you, sweet girl. I am with you forever.” Cooper’s voice cracked with emotion as his tears started to fall, the sob slipping from your lips evident enough. Perching against Cooper, you let your lips collide with his in a heated manner, feeling the ever-growing love between the two of you blossomed. The world was gone, silent compared to the beating of two hearts. The autumn light turning into tendrils of golds, browns, and silver cascading through the air, glittering with every touch Cooper laid upon your body. He was your home, he is your safety. He is your world, and nothing could take him from you. “I’m here to stay.” You knew he meant it too. Cooper Adams was a thing of the past, a monster that the media wanted to portray. Cooper Abbott on the other hand was a family man, who was desperately in love with his girl. Philadelphia is where you two made your home, but your true adventure starts with the move to Minnesota. Your future now getting started.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your hoodie

Tagging Taglist: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica @minedofmoria @hibiskooks @fore45fore @lustskitty69

Cooper Adams: @lunaluvsu @rplver @kissofdawn666 @rottenangel

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  FAKE OUT

SUMMARY : being undercover as a married couple isn’t hard, what’s hard is dean having to keep his hands to himself for a stupid chastity promise. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, oral sex (f. receiving), dean smoking cigarettes, thigh riding, suit kink, religious criticism, religious exaggerations 

WORD COUNT : 3.4k 

A/N : fall out boy song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — thigh riding. Yeah, yeah, dean’s hot, basically. I actually accidentally wrote this. XXXXXX

“This is the stupidest shit ever.”

Y/n pursed her lips and to stop her smile, then turned to look up at Dean with a frown, sympathy softening her features. He yanked the green and silver tie until it was loose and started to shoulder off his coat aggressively.

She took a few moments to appreciate how he looks with his jaw clenched and his brows pinched together in anger. She licked her lips as the white dress shirt stretched across his chest, the buttons straining to stay together. She tugged her lip into her mouth and sucked on it slowly, a blush suffusing across her face as he plopped down on the bed.

“Um,” she started, walking towards her boyfriend—now pretending to be her husband. “It’s just a week,” she tried comforting him, stepping between his legs, she buried her fingers in the short hair behind his head.

“A week of no sex,” he clarified, closing his eyes. He leaned into her touch and she bit her lip, smiling.

“We’ve gone longer without sex, Dean,” she reminded him, brows furrowing. His eyes fluttered open and he wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling her hand out of his hair to admire the fake wedding ring on her finger. He kissed her pulse on her wrist and gazed at her through his lashes.

“But you’re my wife,” he argued playfully, brushing his lips up her forearm, watching her shiver with a smirk on his face. “We should be, uh, consummating our marriage, or whatever.” 

She bit her lip, inhaling slowly as she stared down at him, feeling ticklish when he nibbled on her inner arm. He let her arm fall and grabbed her waist, pulling her pink summer dress up, clenching it in his hands as he moved her into his lap.

“Dean,” she moaned, squirming as he began attacking her neck and cleavage with wet, biting kisses. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours,” she laughed, pressing her hands weakly against his chest. 

Dean hummed softly, ignoring her words as he planted kisses along her jaw. He lifted his hands from her waist to squeeze her breasts, rolling his hips up into her panty-clad pussy, his cock already hard.

“We’re not actually married,” she gasped, sliding her hands into his hair, tugging so he’d pull away from her neck. Dean growled softly before sucking a mark on her pulse, and lifted his head to kiss her. 

“Why aren’t we married already?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around her, smoothing his hands down her sides to squeeze and smack her ass. She moaned softly into his mouth and managed to scramble out of his lap. 

“Don’t ask dumb questions, dork,” she teased, smoothing down her dress, stepping backwards when he tried reaching for her again. He managed to grip her dress and got up slightly to pull her back into him. “Dean, please…” she whined, laughing when he flipped her over onto her back and she began bouncing slightly. 

She moaned softly when Dean buried his face between her legs, mouthing at her clit over the cotton of her underwear. He wrapped his arms around the top of her thighs, spreading her legs open, and stretched his thumb beneath her underwear. 

“If we do this…” she panted, grasping the hair at the top of his head when he managed to slip his tongue through her wet folds, flicking her clit teasingly a few times.

“What?” he mumbled, giving her pussy a lewd kiss that made her moan once more.

“We don’t know what might go wrong.” With one last loud, wet kiss to her cunt, he pulled away from her, and untangled his arms from around her soft thighs. 

“That’s a great point, sweetheart,” he conceded, licking his lips of her arousal with a smug grin showing all his cute teeth, finishing off with a click of his tongue. 

She snickered, slapping his shoulder gently with the back of her hand. He huffed out a breath and laid on his back with his eyes closed, crossing his arms over his chest. She smiled lovingly and turned onto her stomach, scooting over to gaze down at him.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked playfully, wrapping her hand around his loose tie. He peeked an eye open and smiled at her before shutting it again. 

“Thinking of a loophole,” he snorted. Her brows flew up, her interest piqued. “Does mutual masturbation count?” He wondered aloud, opening his eyes to gauge her reaction. She tilted her head and averted her gaze thoughtfully. “I don’t think it counts. I’m not inside you for that,” he added, puckering his lips as he looked up, pondering.

“Well, I’m gonna go and chat with some of the ladies…” she told him, pressing a loving kiss to his cheekbone. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” she murmured against his cheek, trailing her lips over to his.

It was getting close to dinner on their first night of the retreat and Y/n had talked to a few ladies. Some of them didn’t have a single problem with keeping their hands to themselves and actually joined because their husbands were arrogant, porn-addicted dicks that thought it was up to the women to keep them entertained long enough to be faithful and chaste.

She had to bite her tongue the entire time, sending the women around her tight smiles as they behaved like it was the best thing in the world to have a manchild for a husband. 

Thank the stars, Dean was nothing like that.

If anything, hearing their horrible relationships made her yearn for Dean even more. He was so perfect, both as a person, and as a boyfriend slash husband. Very much a turn on.

She didn’t find him in their room, so he asked a few of the guys that he talked to, trying to figure out where he’d gone off to or at least when he’d be back. 

She found Dean eventually. He was standing outside the building in the cold, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips, his other hand shoved into the pocket of his slacks. He held the cigarette between two fingers, took a few puffs with a deep inhale, and slowly exhaled the smelly air.

She opened the glass door quietly, slipping between the small space rather than opening it all the way, holding it so it would shut just as silently. She leaned against the wall and held back a laugh.

“This distracting you from sex?” She asked, turning quickly to watch him when he jumped and cursed. He turned to face her, too, shaking his head, pressing his tongue into his cheek.

She stole the cigarette from him with a cute smile while he was distracted and eyed it curiously. Then lifted it up to her nose and scrunched her nose in distaste. She placed it between her lips, but he stopped her before she could inhale the tobacco.

“Sweetheart,” he laughed, “you’ve never smoked before.” He tried taking it away, but she jumped away from him playfully and held it behind her, away from his very sexy hands. 

“I can try it now,” she offered. He tilted his head, smiling down at her knowingly. “Your mouth was on it,” she purred, biting her lip, and fluttering her lashes at him endearingly. He licked his plump bottom lip as he smiled and shook his head at her.

“You won’t like it,” he told her, reaching out quickly in attempts to snag it, but it didn’t work. She backed away once more and he sighed out a laugh, dropping his arms to his sides. 

“Do you?” She inquired, licking the yellow part suggestively. His lips parted, enchanted instantly with her pink lips and her pinker, wet tongue swirling around.

“Not really,” he murmured. She pouted, brows furrowed. 

“Then why do it?”

“It turns you on?” He tried, but she shook her head with a rueful smile. “It irritates you?” She nodded, smiling sweetly and closing her eyes. 

He took the cigarette from her, lifting it up to his lips with a smug, sexy smile to inhale deeply. The end of it lit up red with fire and then he exhaled in her face, a puff of smoke making her cringe. 

“Isn’t smoking against their stupid little rules?” She asked, waving her hand in front of her for the intoxicating air to fade away. He wrapped his arm around her waist and looked at her down his nose, keeping his other arm straight, far away so he wouldn’t accidentally burn her. “And when did you start up again?” She stretched her lips cutely into a straight line.

“Found the pack in the mens’ counsellor's, uh, office desk,” he shrugged, micking her mouth to enhance his charming little dimples. “George or somethin’? Kind of a creep. Stay away from him and his redneck moustache.” 

She laughed and shook her head, leaning into him, holding his body close to hers for warmth. He read into her actions incorrectly, slid his hand down from the small of her back to squeeze her ass, and leaned in as well to kiss her.

She returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, their lips moving heatedly against each other. He walked her back with him, pressing her against the wall, trapping her between his body as the kiss became wet and loud. 

They pulled away from each other’s lips when the lights outside switched off. Both of them laughed for a few moments, wiping tears from their eyes until they both relaxed in each other’s arms once more without kissing.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” he mumbled into her hair, where he ear was. She bit her lip and swayed with him, leaning into him when he kissed her temple, his lips remaining momentarily before he tucked her head under his chin comfortably. 

“Did you learn anything?” She asked, locking her fingers behind his back under his warm coat. 

“They’re literally so stupid,” Dean laughed breathily, throwing the cigarette onto the floor, grinding his heel into it. She hummed in agreement, entertained by the similarity in their conclusions. “They trusted me enough to give me ideas on how to get off without actually nuttin’ in you.” 

She pulled away slightly, looking up at him curiously with a cute tilt of her head and the lift of a brow. “As long as there’s no polyamory…” she trailed off coyly, twisting her fingers before slowly looking at him in the darkness, now illuminated only by waning moonlight.

“No,” he chuckled, kissing her forehead. “I ain’t sharin’ you with any of these sheltered assholes. Or anyone else, for that matter,” he muttered, then raised his hand to brush hair away from her face loving, fingertips caressing her cold cheek. She nuzzled into his hand until he cupped her cheek and gazed up at him through her lashes, a most adoring glimmer in her eyes making his knees weak.

“Well, I’m not into anyone who isn’t you so… Dinner?” 

He nodded, tilting her head up to kiss the tip of her nose. “I might as well feast on some food,” he murmured, then kissed each of her eyebrows, “since I can’t feast on you.” 

She snickered, unhooking her fingers to smack his ass with her hands, then she squeezed each cheek with a mischievous little moan. 

She pulled away from him begrudgingly and held out her hand as she started walking away towards the entrance of the beige building. He quickly picked up the cigarette from the concrete, jogging to catch up with her to hook his pinkie with hers, before tossing the squashed cigarette into the bin nearby.

“Sorry about the smoking…” he murmured, opening the door, allowing her in before him. Dean trailed his fingers up her forearm before circling his arm around her waist once they were inside. “I don’t do it behind your back.” He promised, pressing her into his side once more.

“Hey,” she smiled, leaning her head on his bicep, holding his tie gently. A million words hung in the air during the palpable silence. Dean already knew everything she didn’t say, reading it in her loving eyes. “Y’ain’t gotta say sorry.”

“Y’ain’t?” He furrowed his brows, smirking. She nodded matter-of-factly, her face entirely serious, her eyes glittering spiritedly.

“My space-cowboy-robot boyfriend said that,” she smiled endearingly, earnestly, looking almost too innocent in the glow of old incandescent light bulbs.

“Cayde,” Dean muttered, feigning sadness while shaking his head. He sucked in a breath, cute dimples deepening above his lips. “I can’t compete with him.”

“The pie was good,” Y/n offered as Dean sat on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

“Yeah… I’ll hand it to those housewives…” Dean trailed off, then, he peeked at her as she lifted the dress up her alluring body, leaving her standing only in some heels and underwear. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having you as a housewife, especially if you only wear an apron, full access to your sweet pussy as you bake me a pie,” he described dreamily, pursing his lips, waiting for her reaction. 

She glanced at him sideways, then rolled her eyes.

“I think having you as a housewife is hotter,” she started, slipping her heels off, before walking towards him, “you, walking around naked with only an apron, free access to your pretty cock while you wash the dishes and iron my clothes.” She placed her arms over his shoulders, loosely hooking her fingers together.

He puckered his lips thoughtfully, eyes flickering upwards as he considered her vision. 

“Well, anything for you, darlin’,” he smirked, sneakily trailing his fingertips up the inside of her warm thigh. “Before I really ask you to marry me, wanna try one of the loopholes?” He slowly tugged her underwear down with his fingers hooked underneath, ‘accidentally’ brushing across her wetness.

“Shouldn't you ask me first?” 

Dean made a tiny ‘o’ with his lips, leaving her underwear around her knees when he clutched his thighs. Her underwear pooled around her feet, falling on its own now that he was distracted.

“Right,” he agreed, tilting his head away, then back towards her again, “the problem is,” he inhaled sharply, then gazed up at her earnestly, “ring’s back at the Bunker…”

She stared at him blankly, narrowed her eyes, then she slapped his shoulder when she gasped. He murmured a little ‘ow’ with an adorable pout, but really, he was just getting shy.

“Are you serious?” She asked, taking his face in both hands. He laughed shyly and glanced at her momentarily.

“Shit,” he groaned, looking down. “I didn’t mean to let it slip…” 

She dismissed what he said, what’s done is done. She was practically teeming with excitement to discover it was an accident that it slipped from his kissable mouth.

“You know the answer’s yes, right? In half a heartbeat, always ‘yes’,” she promised steadfastly, her thumbs brushing lovingly over his freckled cheekbones.

Dean blushed, turning pink and hot under her loving, excited gaze. 

“To… the l-loophole?” He tried changing the subject, taking her hips to bring her forward. She let him, sitting on his thigh. 

“Shut up,” she whispered with an equally quiet laugh, kissing him passionately. 

Dean was quick to trace her bottom lip with his tongue and spread his thighs farther apart, making his trousers tighter around his crotch. 

“Humping? That’s the loophole?” She mumbled against his mouth, biting down gently on his lip. He moaned softly, pulling away from her tempting lips. 

“Riding my thigh,” he corrected her, a hint of a whine in his tone making her smirk. She lifted a brow.

“What kind of men have you been talking to?” She laughed, lifting her hips slightly to experimentally grind against the hard muscle. She moaned softly, digging her nails in his chest. 

“The type that think they’re gonna get away with doing shit like this rather than having good old-fashioned sex.” Dean reached down to part her folds and guided her to begin rocking her hips continuously. “Just keep doing that, baby,” Dean encouraged her, tensing his thigh to increase her pleasure. 

“Oh,” she whispered, raking her fingers through his hair again as she ground against his thigh. “How’s this, um…” she paused,tugging his tie to bring him close for a quick kiss. “How’s this a loophole if you aren’t getting off?” 

He trailed his lips down to her neck, sliding his hands up her sides slowly. 

“It’s just to try something new,” he murmured, kissing along her collarbone. “‘Sides, don’t you like my thighs?” He teased, sliding her closer to him with his arms lovingly wrapping around her. She hummed softly, smiling.

“I guess…” 

“No,” he argued playfully, relaxing his arms to arch her back and bring her chest close to his face, “what did you say when you saw me wearing those tiny shorts when I washed Baby?” 

She pretended to think and he narrowed his eyes at her, then pushed her gently off his lap and got up from the bed. She giggled, melting into him when he held her close again and started walking her back until her back hit the wall. 

“You’re the one who mentioned riding my thigh,” he reminded her, pulling her hips away from the wall to shove his thigh between her parted legs once more. “But you never finish on my thigh,” he whispered, rocking his leg back and forth. 

She moaned softly, clutching his belt as she rolled her hips over his covered thigh. 

“I’m sorry if I want your dick more than your thigh,” she mumbled sarcastically, staring up at him through hooded eyes. 

“Well,” he chuckled, cupping her breast, “I’m not letting you go until you come on my thigh.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, and kneaded the warm flesh roughly as she panted, and leaned her head back against the wall.

“Good girl,” he purred seductively. 

He leaned over her, close enough so their noses barely touched, and smirked when she gasped, and screwed her eyes shut. She panted against his lips, breathing the same air as him, getting hotter, wetter, hornier, needier, and grinding faster. 

“You are so… hot,” she whispered, her brows knitting together in concentration as she clamped her small hands around his arms. Her hips began to falter, moving erratically the closer she came to reaching her release. 

Dean just watched, entirely enraptured by her. From the pleasure washing over her face, to her small body moving hedonistically over his thigh simply because he suggested it, to the sounds that ghosted over his parted lips. 

His heart was beating erratically just admiring her. He could feel her warmth, her wetness seeping through the thin, soft material of his black dress pants. His cock begged for friction, but he was devoted to seeing her fall apart just from grinding on his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her chin, squeezing her thighs, her hips, her ass, whatever he could reach. Until finally, she gasped and cursed, moaning softly against Dean’s parted mouth. Desperately, she buried her fingers in his short, soft hair, tugging as she squirmed in his arms. Then, she brought his face into her neck, keeping him close when she orgasmed, holding onto him nearly as tightly as he was holding her. 

She slowed down to a stop, panting and laughing breathlessly, now slumping against the wall and away from his taut thigh. Dean placed a kiss on her sternum, hardly giving her enough time to catch her breath when he pulled her away from the wall.

“That was hot,” he murmured, manhandling her goodnaturedly across the room, placing firm kisses  on her lip which she occasionally returned as she attempted to rid the haze of the golden afterglow of her orgasm. “Ready for a second?” He whispered, nudging her cheek with his nose to kiss her temple before throwing her onto the bed. 

“And a third, maybe a fourth…” She laughed, gazing at him as he impatiently unbuttoned his shirt and shoved it off his arms. 

Dean smirked at her, licking his lips when she crawled her way to him, unbuckling his belt while he removed the white t-shirt underneath. He pulled his pants down after she finished unzipping them, climbing up on the bed with her beneath him, staring into her eyes like an enchanted idiot. 

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[wingzie]

Jikook and the Importance of Photos

Photographs are special. They map out our lives through precious memories. They leave a footprint in time that can forever be part of our history. These glimpses of our past, make us who we are and show what or who is important to us. They are full of so much love and emotions, even more so when they are shared with those most trusted to us. This goes for every photo shared by the members.

 I personally think it’s amazing that we can tell when a photo of Jimin is taken by Jungkook, there’s a certain style to it and it comes across even at a glance. One of my favourite photos of Jimin by Jungkook is this one:

This photo was taken from the behinds of Life Goes On. Each MV was beautifully directed by Jungkook, and it’s hard to miss the references made from within their old dorm. I know Jungkook isn’t keen on photos but, just like during GCFT, Jimin is looking at Jungkook and not the camera here with that smile. With that one look, that we are so familiar with, we can trace every single moment within their history which has that same shining expression. It tells a story over time, but also that one photo itself is so telling in the way that it was captured. One of my favourite photos of Jungkook by Jimin is this one:

There’s something raw and delicate in this photo.You can see it in Jungkook’s eyes. Each item in the photo tells its own little story, from the Birthday cake to the polaroid photos on the table that we never saw. This photo is all we saw from the night of Jungkook’s Birthday in 2019 and sometimes I am reminded that with these glimpses into their lives, there are still so many moments of theirs that we are unaware of. For example, Jungkook had a hickey on his neck during MOTS:Online and none of us had any idea until the DVD Behinds came out. 

For every selca or video that Jikook has shared with us, it shows a part of them that we are so lucky to witness. To be able to watch their growth over the years is magical and something I will always cherish. Why am I going on about photos and memories though?  Because they give so much of themselves to us and I will never take it for granted, nor expect them to give more to us than they want to. Some of their memories are for them only, but we can still hold dear what we know already…

Some of you know this already, but I have been caring for my Mother lately. Over the last few months, her memory has worsened. In an attempt to help, we play memory games and repeat simple tasks together. However, her memory is something that cannot be simply fixed with such methods. I had the idea to get out family photos, until I realised that we had stopped taking them when my parents divorced. It’s made me more proactive in archiving things that I do each day. Every little thing I see or hear, I note it down or save the song. In a way, it’s also how I associate with BTS or Jikook. When the BTS World soundtrack came out, I was having a really bad day and it gave me a lot of comfort. I smile whenever I hear Pied Piper because it’s one of my friends favourite songs. Any time I hear “Jungkookie” or “Jimin-ssi”, a barrage of memories come to the front of my mind and I grasp onto all of them whilst I still can. 

I'm sure it's not just me who does this either, Jimin and Jungkook probably do this themselves. You could see that when Jungkook was watching Jimin’s compilation with us. He was recollecting the same memories as us, but he also has access to an entirely different set of memories that we don’t know of. We also saw that with the way Jimin and Jungkook both explained the Rainy Day Fight. During the Festa video, Jungkook mentioned “rainy day” and expected Jimin to understand what he meant. Later on, Jimin and Jungkook gave their own versions of what happened in their separate lives. They both more or less experienced the same thing, but blamed themselves for their actions and not the other. 

They love adding to their own collections of memories. Every single time that Jimin watched Jungkook rehearse and the other way around, enough so that they could probably be a backup dancer. All the clips they have but haven’t shared. The moments we don’t find out until later, the inside jokes they have without context. We don’t understand, but that doesn’t matter. Only they have to and we just watch and smile. Their memories are a huge part of them, it’s what makes their bond so special.  

[guksfairy]

JEALOUSY | JJK

wc: 1.6k

inspo song: Jealousy - Rocky

notes: mentions of a toxic relationship, jealous jk, violence, Choi Minho mentioned <3

Hailey Notes: why wasn’t I informed of Minho’s existence?? It wasn’t until I watched Romance in the House on Netflix (watch it! it’s so good!) and even then I solely watched it for Yoon Sanha but then I saw Minho and I was like 🤭

enjoy !

You don’t expect Jungkook to remain calm from across the room as you’re dancing quite sensual with Minho but you also don’t expect him to act like this.

“Jungkook get off of him man!” Namjoon is the first to grab Jungkook who’s holding Minho by his shirt after giving him a couple punches so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if Minho doesn’t remember his own name.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? That’s my girlfriend!”

“Ex-girlfriend!” Perhaps now isn’t the best time to be correcting Jungkook on your title for him but still. You had to stand your ground. It didn’t last long though.

“You stay out of this!” Jungkook only glanced at you for a quick moment and went back to Minho who seemed completely out of it.

Jungkook was going to seriously hurt Minho if you didn’t stop this.

“Man get off!” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s arms in attempt to get him away from Minho but fails in which Namjoon goes back to help, this time successfully getting him off.

Jungkook struggles to get out of their grasp yet doesn’t succeed until they’re leading him out of the club with you following close behind.

“You need to calm the fuck down,” Namjoon speaks once Jungkook is free of their grasp with his chest heaving.

“Tell that fucker to get his dirty hands off my girlfriend!” He’s pointing inside the club completely oblivious to the fact you’re standing there until you speak.

“You and I aren’t together! We haven’t been for the past month you need to get over it!” It’s not like you wanted to end the relationship really. It was simply because it was getting toxic. Jungkook was a very jealous man and he wasn’t afraid to show it. Going as far as not allowing you to visit your parents and brother back in Jinju-si. It was getting ridiculous and you simply couldn’t do it anymore.

“No I never agreed to a break up sweetheart,” even when he was mad he’d still use your favorite term of endearment.

“That’s not how it works!” You whine because as much as you loved him you needed him to realize that holding onto a relationship that no longer exists wasn’t healthy.

He releases a sigh through his nose in the cold night air out of frustration. How could you act like that? Pretending like you weren’t going through a break up from a 4 year long relationship! He didn’t know you were suffering and wanted a distraction from crying just for one night.

The one night your friends finally convince you to go out is the same night Jungkook’s friend tell him if he doesn’t go willingly to the club they’ll force him. Had you known Jungkook would be in attendance you obviously wouldn’t have shown up at all.

“Jungkook please don’t act like this,” you were now stood in front of him with your hand laying against his cheek. He leaned into it for comfort as he closed his eyes trying to regain some form of calmness.

Namjoon and Taehyung watch as this happens before they decide to go back inside and check on Minho to assure he’s not near death.

Jungkook raises his tattooed hand to place above yours. His eyes still closed as you look over his familiar tattoos noticing a new one. It’s slightly more pigmented than the rest and realize he must have gotten it when you two broke up. Or - when you broke up with him.

It was your name. Your name was written across his hand with stars and a moon around it before you chuckle bringing Jungkook back to reality as he opens his eyes.

“What baby?” He asks in a hushed tone.

“Your tattoo,”

“You like it?”

You nod grabbing his hand and looking at it closely.

“I got it as a reminder of our first date,”

On your very first date with Jungkook you two stayed up so late, you both laid on the hood of his car and looked at the starry sky. Coincidentally that was the same night Jungkook made a wish to a shooting star that he’d be able to live a full life with you. Marry you and have kids.

“It’s cute,” your hand grazes his fresh ink completely forgetting the chaos he started not even 10 minutes ago.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry I can’t help the way I feel tonight - I mean seeing that fucker touching you like he fucking had a chance pissed me off,”

“I know,” you wanted to be angry at him. He wasn’t allowing you to heal and if you go back to him it’ll be the same song and dance all over again. You wanted to yell until you looked up at him, he stared back with the most innocent eyes and furrowed brows in worry, you decided against it.

Jungkook was somone that hated seeing you alone with any guy. Let it be a family member or stranger he simply couldn’t stand it. You began to get frustrated with him and he always got defensive when he replied, “Do you want them or something?” and yet…he was still your Jungkook.

Your Jungkook that stuck by your side through your best and worst moments. He held your hair when you threw up from too much liquor, he bought you flowers on random days, he had a list of your favorite things in his notes app, and he took care of you whether it was mentally, physically, or emotionally. How could you just let that go?

Jungkook suddenly allows himself to fall into you, his head now resting on your shoulder as he feels his eyes start to burn. He doesn’t want to cry but he’s simply frustrated.

You hold him as your arms are now placed around his neck and you feel his heartbeat.

The doors to the club open in a sudden motion and out comes three guys holding a man in the middle. He seems drunk until you realize it’s Minho and he’s bleeding from somewhere on his face. Jungkook doesn’t bother to look up or move from his position, to content with where he is. But you do. You look at Minho who looks like he’s in the worst pain he’s ever felt as you hug and comfort Jungkook, the guy that gave him the pain.

You realized you didn’t even bother checking on him before leaving the club with Jungkook being held on tight by Namjoon and Taehyung. You simply followed Jungkook without hesitation.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you say as you run your fingers through his hair and he simply nods pulling away from you as Minho is placed into a car before being driven off by some guys.

Not bothering to notify your friends of your departure you intertwine your hands in his and drag him to his car you recognized from afar as you were walking out before.

Knowing Jungkook must have his keys in his pocket, and deeming his not in the right state of mind to drive, you open the passenger door for him and allow him to settle in before you walk to the drivers seat and turn on the car.

The whole ride to your shared apartment Jungkook didn’t remove his hand away from your thigh once. He didn’t want you to leave in the first place a month ago and he doesn’t want you to leave now. Frankly he was confused as to why you thought it was the end of your relationship. It’s him and you. You should know that.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” is the first thing he says after you put his car in park in your assigned parking spot. “Let’s go,” you quickly say as you both get out of the car and walk inside the apartment complex.

Jungkook didn’t end up getting sick but he was feeling weak from the alcohol catching up to him. Before was pure adrenaline and now…he felt exhausted.

He fell into his respected side of the bed he’s had since you started dating four years ago and closed his eyes upon impact. He simply closed them rather than actually trying to fall asleep.

“Koo please change you know I hate outside clothes on the bed,” you say removing your shoes and going to your closet to look for something comfortable for the night.

“Give me a minute,” he slurs and you know he’s not getting back up. You sigh and change yourself before heading back out to, this time, find him asleep and snoring. Deciding to only remove his shoes and jacket for the night you pull on the blanket under him and cover the both of you.

As you lay comfortably next to Jungkook he turns to you and lays his arm around your waist before sliding his other hand under it holding you snuggly and close to his heart.

Tonight seems like any other night. You fell into routine without even realizing it as you turn to him and hug him back.

Jungkook falls asleep with a huge smile on his face and you sleep without a second thought. The problems in this relationship seem to be for another day. Too tired from tonight’s event you fall into dreamland next to Jungkook who dreams of your family he hopes to start with you one day.

[justmystyles]

All or Nothing

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: you find a new way to tease Harry during a tour visit, and stumble upon a new way to drive him crazy.

warnings: smut, NSFW, if you're under 18 just don't.

a/n: @manrocket-mo sent me this video and asked me to write what he could possibly be reacting to. this is what I came up with. i don't know if it's really what you were looking for, and it kind of snowballed into something else, but i hope you enjoy it! thank you for thinking of me to write this, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get it finished.

i kind of envision this as part of the NYIML universe, so i guess you could say this is a one shot off of that series.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“I’m going to go change, wanna go pick some music? My laptop should still be connected to the speakers.” You tell Harry as you hang your coat up and slide off your shoes.

Harry looks at you in shock. “You’re actually giving me unsupervised access to your music collection?” 

You had always been protective over your music collection, claiming you had a long list of guilty pleasures. Harry wanted desperately to know everything about you, including all of the music you enjoyed. He had gotten bits and pieces out of you, but he knew you were still holding back, so allowing him to go through your music library was a huge step in your relationship. 

You looked at him and shrugged with a soft smile. “I trust you, and I know you’re not going to judge me.” 

Harry stepped up to you, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss. “I would never. I know that this is a big step for you, and it means the world to me that you trust me.” He kisses you once more. “I love you.” 

You giggle against his lips. “I love you too, weirdo.” You moved into the bedroom to put on some sweats, and Harry picked up your laptop from the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch.

“A whole playlist of boy band music?!” You hear Harry exclaim from the other room. “I knew you were holding out on me!” You giggled to yourself, waiting for the inevitable reaction. “What the fuck?!” 

You saunter out to the living room and take a seat beside Harry, tucking your legs underneath you. “Something wrong, babe?” You kiss him on the cheek, knowing exactly what was wrong. 

“You have an entire playlist of boy band music, like several hours of music, and there isn’t even a single One Direction song.” 

“H, I told you, I never followed your band.” You try to wrap your arm around him but he dodges out of your grasp. You chuckle at his dramatic display. 

“But you’ve heard the songs now, you didn’t think a single one of them was worthy of your playlist?” You shrug in response as he scrolls through the songs. “O-TOWN? O-Town is on here but not One Direction?” 

At the mention of the early 2000’s group, you get a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh yeah, O-Town is great! Best boy band to ever be assembled on a television show!” 

He arched a brow in your direction, knowing exactly what you were doing. “Excuse me?” 

Giving Harry a hard time is one of your favorite things to do. You know he’s just being dramatic for fun, if you were genuinely hurting his feelings, you would stop and add the entire One Direction discography to that playlist. But teasing was one of your shared love languages, it’s why your relationship worked so well. 

“Yeah, they’re awesome. And lyrical geniuses too!” You continue. 

“Did they even write their own songs?” He asked incredulously. 

“No,” Harry’s eyes went wide, throwing his hands in the air. “But they sang the shit out of those songs. It’s like a time capsule for late nineties early two thousands slang. Not to mention the boner references, and a whole ass song about wet dreams.” 

Harry throws his head back, sinking further into the couch. “Ugh… maybe you were right to keep your music to yourself.” He teases. 

You chuckle as you shift on the couch, moving to straddle his lap. “They have this one song,” you begin as you trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “It’s about a girl and she’s beautiful, like they think she’s soooo beautiful, but she’s shy. She has no idea how beautiful she is. She keeps blushing, and looking down, and they just want to tell her how beautiful she is. It’s quite lovely.” 

You feel Harry’s chest shake in laughter, causing you to smirk against his skin. “Now you’re just making shit up.” 

“Nope, I’m dead ass.” You assure him. “Want me to play it?” You lean back, looking in his eyes with a mischievous glint. “We could make out while we listen.” 

“No to the song,” He states firmly. “But I will take you up on making out.” He runs his hands up your thighs as he leans forward, capturing your lips. 

A few weeks later, you’re back on the road with Harry. You hadn’t brought up O-Town again, but that didn’t mean you’d forgotten about that night, and you had a special surprise planned for him. As usual, throughout the show Harry’s eyes would travel to you in the VIP area, in those moments, the thousands of fans would seemingly disappear and it was just Harry, pouring his heart out to you. 

You had been so lost in his performance that you had almost forgotten about the little surprise you had planned for him. As he starts hitting the final notes of Sign of the Times, you catch his eye winking suggestively to maintain his attention. He gives you a curious look as you grab the hem of your sweatshirt and begin to pull it over your head. 

Once you were able to see him again, you noticed the smirk on his face as he studied the t-shirt you had been hiding all day. It was a black shirt with five young men doing their best blue steel to the camera ‘O-Town’ scrawled above their heads. He chuckled some more, as he completed the song. 

When it was over, he was saying his goodbyes and waving to the crowd, locking eyes with you once again as you ran your hands through your hair, lifting it over your shoulders and turning around to display the back of the shirt, which had two more pictures of the group, as well as a list of cities listed at the bottom. You turned to look over your shoulder, immediately catching his cheeky smirk. 

He wagged his finger at you playfully. “You bad girl,” he spoke into the microphone as his finger continued to shake in your direction. You felt an exciting chill run through you at his words, looking forward to what the rest of your evening held.

You knocked gently on Harry’s dressing room door, he quickly called for you to enter. He greeted you with his arms crossed over his chest and his brow arched. 

“Great show babe!” You said cheerfully, skipping up to him and pecking his pursed lips. “Cheer up, grumpy Gus!” 

He continued to stare, and you could tell he was willing himself not to grin at you. “You,” he paused, taking a deep breath. You weren’t sure if it was for dramatic effect, or to stop himself from laughing. “Dared to come to my show wearing another band’s merch?” 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. “Such a drama queen,” you bump your shoulder against his. “Come on, go change so we can go back to the hotel.” 

“Are you going to change too?” He deadpanned. 

You couldn’t help the smirk that took over, knowing what you had in store for him. “As soon as we get back. Promise.” He narrowed his eyes at you and moved into the bathroom to change.  

Despite his feigned annoyance, you spent the entire ride back to the hotel in Harry’s arms as he planted sporadic kisses on the top of your head. You held on to his free hand, playing with the rings that still adorned his fingers. Not much was said, your rides to the hotel were typically quiet. Harry liked to use that time to unwind from the chaos of being on stage. 

When you arrived back at the hotel, Harry dropped his bag at the door and plopped himself onto the couch. You followed him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m going to go change into something a little more comfortable.” 

“Good,” he grunted, making you chuckle. 

“Meet me in bed?” He nodded and you moved into the bathroom. 

Once you had done your nightly skincare routine, and changed your clothes, you opened the bathroom door, leaning against the frame waiting for Harry to look up from his phone. He didn’t seem in any hurry to do so, so you cleared your throat to get his attention. 

He looked up, his eyes going wide and phone dropping to his lap when he saw you. You had changed into another tour shirt, one of his. It was a gray t-shirt, just barely covering your panties. His name, and a photo of him onstage across your chest.

“Better?” You asked with an arched brow. 

He didn’t say a word as he stood from the bed and stalked toward you, his eyes darkening. A knot began to form in your stomach the closer he got. When he reached you, his lips dropped to yours in a dizzying kiss. You moaned into his mouth, and his hands moved to your hips, grabbing you gruffly and turning you to lead you toward the bed. 

Your knees hit the mattress and Harry shoved you back, immediately coming over you and trailing his lips across your jaw, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging, causing you to moan.

“Harry,” you gasped. 

He growled in your ear, his hands traveling down your body. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked sexier.” His hands reached your panties and tore them off of your body. “I don’t know why you bothered with those though.” 

You giggled at his desperation, but were quickly silenced when he ran a finger through your folds. Your breath hitched, and your back arched. 

“Already dripping for me, such a good girl.” 

“Harry, please.” You begged. 

Harry looked at you with mischief in his eyes. “You show up to my show wearing that shirt, and you think you should be rewarded?” 

“But… but… I…” You stutter as he continues to tease you with his fingers. “I have this one now.” 

“Mmm… that you do,” he hummed, slowly inserting a finger. “And you’re going to keep it on.” 

You were momentarily taken out of your lust fueled daze by his words. “Keep it on?” You looked at him curiously. 

Harry nodded before kissing you again. “Mmhmm,” he confirmed. “I want to see my name plastered across those perfect tits while I fuck you.” 

You let out a soft whimper, if you had known wearing his merch would set him off like this, you would have done it a long time ago. He adds a second finger, and moves his thumb to circle your clit. His lips latched onto your neck, marking you with biting kisses. 

“I’m… I’m close.” You moaned, grinding your hips against his hand. 

“Let go angel, want it all over my fingers.” He spoke against your skin. 

With one final pump of his hand, your back arched and Harry’s name fell from your lips in a high pitched whine. He worked you through your first release, finally slowing to a stop. He removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth, keeping eye contact with you as he licked them clean. He hummed in satisfaction as he removed them, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

“Are you ready to take all of me?” He asked, his voice low and raspy as he lowered his underwear, his hard length springing free. 

“Yes Harry, I need you.” You pleaded, lifting your hips in an attempt for some friction. 

He chuckled at your desperation, lining himself up with your entrance and pumping his hard cock a few times before driving into you in one swift motion. Pausing for a moment, allowing you to adjust as he intertwined your fingers and brought your joined hands over your head. 

You rolled your hips, signaling that you were ready and Harry pulled out to the tip, and slamming back into you. He set a rough and relentless pace, hitting that spot with each thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of your grunts, and skin slapping against skin.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, he unlinked your hands, using one of his to hold himself over you as the other cupped your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

“Only yours, Harry. Always.” You said, your voice wavering slightly. 

You watched as his eyes flitted from your face, to the shirt that still covered your upper body. He felt your walls begin to flutter around him and he knew you were close. “That’s it baby, come all over my cock. I need it.” His thrusts became erratic as he approached his own release. 

Your hands gripped Harry’s biceps, your nails digging into the skin as you fell over the edge, Harry’s name falling off your lips in a series of moans as you coated his cock. 

“That’s it, such a good gi… fuck.” He groaned as he reached his climax. 

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as you came down from your high. Eventually, he removed himself from you and rolled onto his back, pulling you to his side. 

“So,” you broke the silence in the room. “What I got from that is that I don’t need to buy fancy lingerie, just need shirts with your face on them.”

You felt his chest shake with laughter. “Don’t kink shame me.” 

“No shame,” you said defensively. “Just observing.” You placed a series of light kisses on his chest. 

***

A few weeks later, Harry was still on the road and you had returned home. You were sitting in your living room watching television when there was a knock at the door. You answered it to find a delivery man with a large package. You accepted it happily and tore it open as soon as the door was shut. 

There was a note, your name written on the front. You smiled, instantly knowing who it was from. You opened it and read the hand-written message. 

One of everything. It’s good to have options.

-H

P.S. Send pictures of them all. ;)

You ripped open the tissue paper and started removing the contents. Laughing to yourself when you realized that he had sent you every piece of merch he currently had. You laid them out on the living room floor, taking a picture that included each piece and texting it to Harry with the caption, ‘just like you asked’. The response came within seconds. 

That’s not what I meant, and you know it. 

You did know it, but you couldn’t help but tease him a little. You brought everything into the bedroom, and put them on one by one, taking pictures of yourself posing in various positions. Once you had taken all the photos, you created a new shared album in your phone, naming it ‘Spank Bank’ and inviting Harry to it. Another, nearly immediate response. 

That’s more like it. 

[inkpot909]

The Stardust Crusaders’ Picks for a First-Dance Wedding Song Headcanons

↳ Gender Neutral Reader. Joseph Joestar is excluded.

A/n: A chill list of headcanons that came to me at 6 in the morning. Jokes aside, I loved putting this together. Although I admit I am a bit biased since I’ve always loved retro music. I did my best to pick music that coincided with the music the characters each canonically listen to (at least, as far as we’re told).

Warning(s): None.

Jotaro Kujo

-> As the World Falls Down

David Bowie

“As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn’t too much fun at all

But I’ll be there for you

As the world falls down”

Canonically speaking, Jotaro’s favorite musician is Toshinobu Kubota. It’s admittedly a rather interesting choice for a man who was a dedicated delinquent in high school.

But music tends to touch people in a special, often times sensitive, manner. And despite looking and acting the way he does, Jotaro’s music preferences are no different.

Yeah, sure, he’s definitely a “whatever’s on the radio” kind of guy, but he has taste.

Separated from others, when he’s in control of the music he’s listening to, his choices give the impression of a casual listener that somehow always has the best picks seemingly with no effort put in at all. Perfectly on brand for Jotaro.

Therefore, he’s likely going to have an unexpected pick.

Therefore, he picks a sappy ballad from an under-appreciated 80s movie. Not because he’s even seen The Labyrinth by any stretch of the imagination, but because he just… likes how it sounds.

He likely heard it one way or another, completely detached from the movie itself, and decided he enjoyed it. Something about the slightly cheesy yet instrumentally enchanting tune gets stuck in his head in a really good way.

There is a reason past “oh, it just sounds nice” as to why he picked it but let’s be honest… he’s going to get a little embarrassed annoyed if he has to explain to you in full detail.

The title pretty much speaks for itself, in his opinion.

Noriaki Kakyoin

-> Every Breath You Take

The Police

“Every move you make

And every vow you break

Every smile you fake

Every claim you stake

I’ll be watching you”

Good god, he’s certainly the Sting fan.

Whether or not you actually like Sting it’s hard to argue against the fact that Kakyoin likely has an overall shit taste in music. Why is this the case? Because he’s been alone the majority of his life and didn’t have any friends to bully him over it.

Not having anyone around him to say “what the hell is this” or just a simple “no” will and has effected him.

He’s the type of guy who claim’s “this album will change your life” before putting on some of the worst pieces of music you’ve ever heard.

Not that he isn’t trying, keep in mind.

This man will stress about what to suggest for days on end. He’s going to take the longest compared to the others in how how much time it takes him to pick. It’ll eat away at his brain, threatening to take every bit of his sanity unless he can think of what he deems as the perfect song he can choose.

And still he manages to not only choose an extremely predictable wedding song, but an insanely creepy one as well.

It’s weirdly charming, in his own odd Noriaki way.

He likely didn’t know what he was doing at the beginning of the relationship due to inexperience, and it’s probably heartwarming to know some things never change.

And it’s completely possible the stalker-ish lyrics of the song didn’t click inside his brain. Not because he doesn’t understand the lyrics per se… but because the poor guy hardly had a grasp on what was actually considered romantic when you first met.

Please, for your own sanity, don’t let the song played at your wedding be one that he picked (with hindsight he’ll probably thank you for it too).

Jean Pierre Polnareff

-> The Air That I Breathe

The Hollies

“Peace came upon me and it

leaves me weak

so sleep, silent angel, go to

sleep

Sometimes

All I need is the air that I breathe

And to love you”

Polnareff’s favorite musician isn’t ever canonically specified, but it’s made pretty clear he’s likely a fan of The Beatles. And considering he went through puberty during the 70s, he’s likely going to lean into that era of music.

Generally speaking, he’s got decent taste. Sure, he’s got the music taste of a white suburban father, but his picks are usually pretty agreeable.

That said, he’s definitely a little high and mighty about it.

He won’t go off on the subject too hard whenever you’re around, but he thinks very highly of his preferences. Polnareff’s a huge victim of nostalgia, and a part of him feels a little elitist for having grown up in the time period that he did.

He has had the song for his first dance picked out in the back of his mind for years, swearing that it would be played at his wedding at some point or another.

Hell, he’s probably got a full roster of music in mind for the reception.

For such a monumental occasion, he’s sure to pick a ballad that starts off slow but crescendos into the chorus- easily the type of romantic tune he’d prefer.

And unlike the others, you may get pushback from him if you don’t want that as your first dance. He’s quite stubborn, generally speaking, and this is no exception to that.

Ultimately though, he would eventually cave and do just about anything you want.

But as stated before, he’s had his mind set on this one for literal years. So certainly expect this to be a somewhat tough conversation to have with him if you prefer something different.

Muhammad Avdol

-> I Love How You Love Me

Claudine Longet

“I love how your eyes close

whenever you kiss me

And when I’m away from you I

love how you miss me

I love the way you always treat

me tenderly

But, darling, most of all I love

how you love me”

Avdol’s music taste is left as a complete mystery in canon.

However, because he runs his own shop, he’s fairly attached to the calming instrumentals he often keeps on at the store. Avdol understands atmosphere well and takes it very seriously.

When he’s not working, it’s not very often that he finds himself listening to music.

But when he does, it’s usually music with soft or ethereal overtones (you cannot tell me he doesn’t listen to Enya). Throw in some charming oldies from the 50s and 60s, and Avdol’s in his element.

To put it simply, easy-listening tunes are his freaking jam.

He also enjoys listening to music from all across the world. Avdol is likely well-traveled, and is undoubtedly knowledgeable on other places and cultures. So the preference comes naturally to him.

He’s going to pick something very romantic and slow. A song that, even if you maybe haven’t heard it before, upon the first time listening you just know it’s meant to be played at a wedding.

And, unlike the others, it would take him less than 24 hours to have made his choice. It’s not that he doesn’t put care into the decision, he just doesn’t like making you wait. He’s quite efficient when it’s something this important.

Regardless, he’s the most flexible of the group when it comes to your tastes, so anything you want is perfectly fine with him.

That said, it has to be a ballad. That’s his main request. Avdol’s eager for your input, sure, but he’s going to want to slow dance with you more than anything else.

[nynyhaha]

Thinking about the way Chrollo represents apathy and passion.

When I first saw him,he gave the impression of someone who is both very serious about his occupation and on some kind of mission,and someone who just lets things happen.

The reason he seemed so enigmatic compared to other troupe members is because we couldn’t grasp what he actually values, besides obviously the spider.This whole line of his about not caring for money,glory or fame.The fact that he sells the loot soon after stealing it.

It doesn’t make sense for a thief to be this indifferent towards the treasures he steals.And while the troupe risked their lives trying to steal from the auction,when things went wrong the loot was the last thing they considered.I always wondered what happened to all the boxes at their hideout.I hope they didn’t just leave it there??But it was never the main focus,

I think he occasionally finds something that fascinates him,just to discard it afterwards.It’s almost like he tries very hard to,excuse me, “fill the emptiness inside him”,with material possessions but is painfully aware that it’s not possible.The troupe are primarily known as thieves but it seems obtaining stuff can’t be that satisfying,at least not to Chrollo. Even if he tells everyone to “just steal” in his character song.

The scarlet eyes might’ve caught his attention at some point but again,he’s very dismissive of the whole kurta theme even when Kurapika demands some response.

So I don’t believe it’s greed that drives him.In fact,he doesn’t know what drives him.

And the reason he’s able to commit all those horrible deeds is because of his disconnection with PEOPLE. Being the leader,he’s somewhat set apart from the rest of the spiders.And there are rules that put the good of the organisation before the well-being of the members.That’s supposed to prevent members from caring as much for one another.Which is tragic.

It all only started because they all cared.

How are characters humanised in hunter x hunter? Trough forming bonds with other characters.

Killua and meruem are excellent examples.Both of them grew to care more about humans in general trough meeting a particular person.

Chrollo lost someone important and that very personal grief lead him to stop caring about human lives.Not just his own,but the ones of his fellow troupe members.

Obviously it didn’t work and they still feel very strongly for each other.The whole yorknew arc focuses on those repressed feelings of camaraderie that aren’t allowed to be experienced fully as that would interfere with the Spider.Pakunoda has to break the rules if she wants to save the life of her friend.

Chrollo can’t do that because the Spider with its rules is all he has.He’s very good at “severing ties” with things like living a save life,the authorities,possibly religion,connections with other people,seeing dead bodies as something to be respected and not as objects.He’s willing to give up everything that made him who he was,but what does he have in turn? Nothing.

The Spider needs to have a purpose but it seems that purpose is lost.Chrollo is lost,all his sacrifices lead to nothing.

He doesn’t even feel hate or anger at the world.He rarely takes things personally.

I think there was some revenge based reason for murdering the kurta clan.The troupe seem like they’d have some reason,even tho it could never be good enough.

But my thesis is that Chrollo’s biggest sin isn’t greed,pride,anger or whatever.It’s apathy.

Nothing prevents him from hurting people who have nothing to do with him,therefore he does.

He’s afraid that things will start mattering again,but at the same time we see him constantly searching for that something.He is scared of it,but he really strives to strive for something so that he can break out of this indifference he feels for everything.

So maybe Hisoka will awake some of this rage buried inside and with it make Chrollo once again seem like a very distressed human.

[wilbursprincess]

literally any bursona you would like x reader.

smutshot based off dress by taylor swift?:o

“Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off”

Superstarbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure smut omg, Dom!Superstarbur, Sub!Reader, praising, degrading, begging (if you squint), riding, choking (but not really), unprotected sex, this is just so unholy and I’m not sorry

EXCELLENT TASTE IN MUSIC, ☁️ ANON. EXCELLENT. (saw the other ask lmao ik it’s you). This song is insanely queer coded to me lol. Reputation will always be my top album (in case anyone’s curious, my top three are Reputation, 1989, and Fearless) and Dress is just. Mwah. Chef’s kiss.

Fic below cut!

Wilbur’s eyes lock with mine from across the crowded room, making heat rush between my thighs.

“You two have the sweetest friendship,” sighs my friend, sipping wistfully on her cup. “I’d never be able to stay just friends with someone like him.”

I give her what I hope is a cheerful smile. “It’s easy. He’s just my best friend. I’ve never thought of him as anything more.”

Liar.

My friend keeps talking, but my gaze keeps drifting back across the room, admiring Wilbur for the nth time that night. He glances up, making sure nobody’s watching us before giving me a wink, pulling out his phone.

Wilbur: i need you.

Wilbur: make an excuse.

Wilbur: i’ve been dreaming about what i want to do to you all night.

I give my friend an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but I’ve got work in the morning. Wilbur’s about to take me home.”

At least the second part of that isn’t a lie.

Right on cue, Wilbur walks up, making my stomach tighten, placing a protective hand on my lower back.

“Sorry to steal her away,” he jokes, face cheerful, but his hand sliding down and cupping my ass tells me everything I need to know.

The second we make it outside, Wilbur’s got me roughly shoved against the wall, kissing me so hard I gasp. His hand slips up my thigh, rubbing circles in my drenched panties.

“Do you have any idea,” he pants. “What you do to me?”

“I think I have a general idea,” I reply. “It’s pressing into my leg.”

“I’m going to take you home and do the unholiest of things to that gorgeous, gorgeous body of yours, ok, princess?” Wilbur coos, and I frantically nod. “Good girl.”

We barely make it into his bedroom before he tosses me into the middle of the bed, running his hands over my body through the thigh fabric of my dress.

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off,” I murmur against his parted lips as I unbutton his shirt.

“Knowing how wet I make you from across a room when everyone thinks we’re just friends is almost pathetic,” Wilbur replies silkily, fumbling with his belt buckle. “You love that, don’t you, you little slut?”

I groan at the sight of his bare chest. “God, yes.”

He tugs my dress off over my head with one hand and yanks my thong off with the other. “I’ll never get enough of seeing you all naked and spread out in the sheets for me.”

Wilbur leans down, burying his face between my thighs and licking up the wetness pooling between them. “Oh my goodness,” he murmurs into the soft skin. “I could drown in this pretty pussy.”

“Please,” I whine, tugging on his curls. “Please, Wilbur.”

He snickers. “Please what, baby? You know I can’t do what you want if you don’t use your words for me.”

“Please…” I gasp. “Please fuck me.”

Wilbur smiles, pulling back to tug his pants and boxers off. “There you go, sweetheart. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

God, he’ll be the death of me.

“Saddle up, love.”

We groan in unison as I sink down onto his cock, Wilbur’s hands grasping my hips and pulling me down. We start to move together and my head goes fuzzy from pleasure, swirling my hips as I take every inch he gives me.

“Bounce for me,” he groans, letting out a long, low, moan as I do exactly as he asks. “Good girl.”

This angle is hitting exactly where I need it too, and when Wilbur reaches around to rub my clit in time with my movements, I know I’m an absolute goner.

“I’m so close,” I cry out, legs shaking as the waves of pleasure washes over me. “Fuck, right there.”

Laughing, Wilbur grabs one of my nipples, twisting it between his fingers until I cry out. “So close already, huh?” He says teasingly. “Pathetic little thing, falling apart on my cock.”

I scream out his name as I tip over the edge, shuddering from overstimulation as he keeps thrusting into me.

“You can give me one more?” Wilbur says, and I nod. “That’s my girl. Lay down for me.”

Shakily, I climb off him, whining as he tosses my legs over his shoulders and dives back in.

He’s pounding into me fast and hard, every whine and groan music to my ears. One hand is snuggly around my throat, the other playing with my tits and only adding to the pleasure.

“You’re absolutely soaked, love,” teases Wilbur, nibbling and sucking at a spot on my neck I know will be visible tomorrow. “Does it really feel that good?”

I frantically nod. “Feels so good,” I manage to whine out, sinking my teeth into his lower lip. “Fuck.”

“Gonna cum with me, baby?” Wilbur asks, thrusts growing sloppy as he wills himself to keep going for me.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Oh, God, yes,”

My second climax hits me like a train, lasting so long I practically see stars floating in my vision. Just as I start to come down from the high, Wilbur cries out my name, pulling out and releasing all over my stomach.

“Hang on,” he whispers gently, kissing my forehead before reaching into his nightstand and grabbing a towel. “Thought I should be prepared this time.”

I laugh wearily, letting him clean both of us up a little.

“So much for you being my best friend,” I murmur sleepily. “God, you’re so good in bed.”

Wilbur leans down and softly plants a kiss on my lips. “I’ve never slept with someone who makes me feel like you do.” He tugs me against his chest, curled as the little spoon, gently kissing the deep purple mark he left just minutes earlier. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Always.”

[onedappercat]

Why Does the Ortolan Sing?

A human AU Good Omens fanfic

(View uncensored art on AO3)

Chapter 20: So Much For Stardust

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Following his mother’s death, Azira sets out to prepare his family’s bookshop for reopening. While appreciating the shop’s new sign, he hears the beckon of a siren’s song sounding from the coffee shop over the road. He succumbs to temptation to find the source of the hypnotic voice is an auburn-haired songbird. Intrigued by the singer’s beauty and haunted by his apparent loneliness, Azira is determined to introduce himself. There’s only one problem: the musician’s menacing, jealous, and possessive partner.

CW: Domestic abuse, loss of a loved one, adultery, toxic relationship, murder, blood, organized crime

Excerpt from chapter 20:

“Space is incredible, you know?” Crowley’s smile broadened as he stared up at God’s canvas. “It’s true eternity. So vast and limitless, we’re constantly finding something new. Even when Earth is long gone, the space we used to occupy will receive the light from star systems we’ve never known, never named, and the light from Earth will do the same. We’re fleeting, but space isn’t.”

“That’s beautiful…” Azira sighed. “And slightly tragic. Nothing lasts forever, I suppose.”

“Some things do.” Crowley took a deep breath of the fresh, country air. “Humans give names and stories to the stars, and I wonder who else out there, seeing the same stars from a different angle, have done the same. Like over there,” Crowley motioned to a cluster of stars Azira couldn’t differentiate from any others. “Coma Berenices. Humans looked at those stars and saw the hair of an Egyptian queen, sacrificed to Aphrodite to ensure her husband’s return from battle. Something so human. Or the Andromeda Galaxy… one of our neighbors. Named for a beauty whose parents angered the Gods, causing her to be sacrificed to a monster. The stories we assign them won’t last for eternity, but their light always reaches somewhere, even once they’re gone. And there’s an infinite number of them to do just that.”

“When you put it like that, eternity is… a hard concept to grasp.” Azira pondered for a moment. He’d had philosophical conversations with his parents, but eternity was never a topic they touched on. “I admit, my mind usually stays grounded in the stories in books; I don’t tend to consider just how insignificant that all is.”

Crowley eyed Azira at askance, then rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and smiling. “Eternity is a mountain made of diamonds.”

“A what?” Azira grinned.

“There’s a mountain made of diamonds, a hundred miles wide and a hundred miles high, and every thousand years a bird comes and sharpens its beak on the mountain.”

“The same bird?”

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. “We’re talking diamond mountains; you want to harp on the age of the bird?”

“Right,” Azira chuckled. “Carry on.”

“So this bird sharpens its beak on the mountain, scraping away a tiny piece every time. Once that mountain has completely worn away, one second of eternity has passed.”

Azira stared up at Crowley, his face framed in the falling stars and glittering diamonds of eternity, sending their light to Earth. His lips parted, a soft gasp leaving him as he took in the eternal beauty, incomparable in his mind to the fleeting beauty that was Crowley. Crowley’s soft smile and gentle eyes were gazing at him with the kind of love actors attempt to portray in movies. It was so believable, as he watched the old black-and-whites with his mother, until he witnessed it himself.

“Make love to me under the stars,” Azira whispered. “Eternally.”

Continue from chapter 20 here.

Thank you so much to everyone at @goodomensafterdark for your help and putting up with my millions of questions! 🥰

[aftgficrec]

Some fic with andreil kids, i need that to survive

Our most recent ask for this has all of our previous recs. Enjoy! -A

latest ask:

Andreil & kids here

Kevin and his dads by Monsterputt03 [Not Rated, 646 Words, Complete, 2023]

Kevin's life with Andreil as his parents. 

Want by TheBreadWinner [Rated G, 19938 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2024]

Andrew and Neil are finally in a position without worries. They have a nice home, money, and dream jobs. What more could they want? Their closest friends and family are raising kids and experiencing something Andrew never pictured wanting. Now, in his thirties, he sees families everywhere: in the stands during games, at the park during his runs with Neil, and in the lobby of New York Presbyterian. Andrew knows what he wants, and he wants it with Neil.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse and neglect, tw: implied/referenced torture

you got the heart without the ache. by PatientIsTheNight [Rated G, 2483 Words, Complete, 2024]

[Andrew] cannot kill every abuser in the world, though it would be nice. More importantly, he knows that he cannot allow himself to be visibly angry, or upset - it would give the wrong idea. He isn’t angry at Kylie, after all, and refuses to give her even half of an inkling of that idea. But he is still angry, in the way a wounded animal is. It takes more than he thought it would to keep himself from hiding in corners and lashing out. - Andrew and Neil foster their first kid, and face how hard it is. It’s a kidfic, you know what you’re getting.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Whose Your Daddy Series by chaoticas_hell [Not Rated, Collection, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

Part 1: Whose Your Daddy [47865 Words, Complete] Andrew Joseph Minyard didn't do regrets. But letting Neil in, allowing himself to want, for letting Neil slip through his fingertips- it was the closest he would get to feeling regret. It had been fourteen years since he last saw Neil, since Neil was taken right from under his grasp by his psycho-killer father and lost forever and Andrew had to make peace with that, had to stop expecting Neil to walk through his front door like he had never left. Except, one day, it all but happened. One day, a small kid with horribly cut short platinum blonde hair, striking blue eyes that plagued Andrew's dreams and nightmares, freckles and an achingly familiar horrible fashion sense showed up at his office door with the strangest question. "Are you Andrew Joseph Minyard, yes or no?" The kid asked in a British accent. Andrew could only nod. "Oh good." The kid said, suddenly unsure of themself. "Cause I think you're my dad." What the fuck?

tw: assumed major character death, tw: implied/referenced torture

Part 2: The Before [11385 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024] basically a sequel to my fic Whose Your Daddy taking a look at how Neil dealt with single parenthood, how Andrew faired after Neil's faked death, Jo's abysmal childhood, and judgmental family members

tw: assumed major character death, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: choking, tw: unplanned pregnancy, tw: transphobia, tw: gender dysphoria 

Fragments of Light series by DarkD [Rated G/T, Collection, 2 complete works, Updated Jan 2023]

Part 1: Baby mine [T, 18609 Words, Complete, 2022] Andrew could practically see the image of Neil sleeping on his chest, one of the pairs of shoes he'd bought still lying there in bed with them. Neil looked so peaceful, Andrew couldn't stop looking at him. His hand was right on Neil's belly, he could almost imagine what the girls' heartbeats were like there. Neil had sung a song that night, and Andrew memorized every note because, someday, he would also sing that same song for Neil and his daughters. (They couldn't) be more wanted, they've probably never wanted anything more in their life. “You won't touch any of them again.” Andrew said. His voice was low and his throat hurt. “You're not getting anywhere near my fucking family.”

tw: gun violence, tw: attempted murder, tw: major character injury, tw: blood, tw: unplanned pregnancy, tw: transphobia, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: destructive thoughts, tw: vomit

Part 2: My dear Nebula [G, 10086 Words, Complete, 2023] “Andrew, Andrew.” Neil whispered in his ear, the warm air against his skin making him shiver. “It's time for our nebula.” ... Neil then asked what a nebula was and he replied: Nebulae were nurseries for stars. Birth of stars. Birth… “Fuck”

tw: unplanned pregnancy, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced murder

Retired by IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos [Rated G, 1855 Words, Complete, AFTG Summer Exchange 2022]

Neil turned 35 two months ago and was finally ready to retire. A vacay will be just the right thing for his restless mind.

Neil Loves Dinosaurs series by infernalstars [Rated G/T, 32616 words, 17 Complete Works, Updated 2020]

Part 1 recced here

Part 4: Asking For Help [1501 Words] In which Kevin Day has to shift his perspective on things and he seeks out Neil for help.

tw: ableism, tw: implied/referenced abuse

Part 5: Babysitting and the Conditions of Love [1492 Words] Neil and Andrew babysit for Matt and Dan

tw: transphobia, tw: self harm

Part 6: To Live in Peace [908 Words] Meet Henry!

tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Part 7: Nightmare [2149 Words] Andrew bonds with his foster kid. 

tw: graphic nightmares, tw: implied/referenced murder

Part 8: Family [1491 Words] Henry comes home to Neil having a breakdown.

tw: homophobia, tw: ableism

Part 9: Again (Family pt. 2) [2034 Words] in which Neil has a chance to bond with his kid

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nonconsensual kissing

Part 10: Again (Family pt. 3) [1604 Words] The Resolution

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual drug use

Part 11: Ruby Red [1910 Words] Adopting one kid was always apart of the plan, but another kid...? Unplanned.

Part 12: Second Chances [3329 Words] in which Neil tells Ruby how him and Andrew met

Part 13: Roses and Thorns [1943 Words] Andrew is happy ft. some twinyards, catching up with Kevin and his daughter and a lil snippet of Liam!!

tw: implied/referenced self harm

Part 14: Something Real [3140 Words] How Andrew finds out Neil's Autistic. 

tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Part 15: Conditions of Love [2104 Words] A mini series that explores Liam Wilds (Matt and Dans kid), his life and his relationship with Henry Josten-Minyard.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: transphobia

Part 16: Anniversary [1180 Words]  The anniversary of the death of Neil's mom brings up some unpleasant memories and Andrew bring him to the museum to comfort him.

The Josten-Twinyards hc by @detectivebambam [Tumblr, 2024]

Andreil daughter and the word “please” by @starrycassi [Tumblr fic, 2024]

the monsters having kids with cool uncles andreil hc by @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm [Tumblr, 2024]

Miles Minyard-Josten age 7 fandom fun post by @andrews-jort-loving-pipe-dream [Tumblr, 2020]

Art

Minyard-Josten siblings also here art by @allfortheslay25

Nicky meeting Asher Minyard-Josten comic by @riceballannie

Andreil with Michael art by @dshr-art, hc here

fanart by @bluetheking for ‘Noah Minyard-Josten,’ fic recced here

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Dancing in the Kitchen

Life Lessons Track 1

*italicized lines are lyrics from the song (or just slightly altered)*

July 2023

Yourusername

Yourusername LL: Dancing in the kitchen

Stream now

Ynsbiggestfan holy shit holy shit!

Fan172 bestie is this because of your tweet?! Ahhh

Teddysphotos proud of you!

Bellababe Here we freaking go!!

fan47 how many tracks?

yourusername 🤷‍♀️ you'll have to wait and see......

May 2020

6 more minutes. The drive from the airport seems to be taking forever, but you know thats just because of where you’re headed. The bright lights of Monaco shimmer as the road curves and you’re home. The taxi pulls up in front of the building and you hop out, heading inside.

“Ms y/n! I didnt know you were coming today, would you like me to call up?” Henri the doorman exclaims as you give him a wave. “No thanks Henri, I’m hoping to surprise him. But here, this is for you.” You pass him one of the bottles you’re holding, “Tell the mrs I say hello and we’ll have to catch up when im back for a bit longer!” The elevator doors open and you bid him goodbye before grabbing the lift.

Knocking on the door, you wait. Joris said he was home, but that was half an hour ago so you’re hoping that hasn’t changed, when you hear music playing and someone singing along. It brings a smile to your face, and you knock again. Of course you have a key, but you think this will be more fun.

“Un moment!” He calls and the lock clicks. The door opens and Arthur’s standing in front of you.

“Damn it. Shh” you whisper.

“Uh, I should leave shouldn’t I?” The younger Leclerc responds.

A smirk graces your lips, “probably”. He rolls his eyes and heads back to the kitchen, telling his brother that somethings come up and he has to head out. As he passes you waiting in the living room he sticks his tongue out. Very mature, you mouth, before heading to the kitchen door to watch.

Charles is so into whatever he’s cooking that he doesn’t look up until you clear your throat. “Arthur, I though you left” he says as he turns. When his eyes lock with yours, he freezes and drops the tray he’s holding.

“Hey champ,” falls from your lips as his brain starts working again and he jumps over the mess on the floor to pull you into his arms and spins you around.

“What, wha….” You giggle as he can’t seem to complete his thoughts.

“We didnt get a chance to properly celebrate your win” you hold up the bottle of champagne in your hand. His hands rise to grasp the side of your face and bring you in for a kiss. You pour all your love into that kiss, all the hours of missing him while you’re on tour and he’s off to the races, all the missed phone calls and uncelebrated moments.

All of a sudden, the fire alarms going off. The two of you break apart and you giggle as Charles starts panicking

“Oh no, the chicken” and waves a tea towel in front of the oven to clear the smoke. He looks back at you and shrugs.

“Pizza?”

“Pizza” nodding, you pull up the number for your favourite place that delivers.

The music changes in the background to something slower, and you grin as you hear the first few notes. He bows and offers you a hand, pulling you in for a dance. Resting your head on his chest, you listen to the sound of his heart.

“I miss you” you whisper, “all the time. I didn’t think it would be this hard”

A single tear rolls down your cheek before Charles is gently lifting you chin so your eyes meet his. “Hey, I miss you too. All the damn time. It feels like my heart isn’t whole unless you’re next to me. But we’re both shooting for the stars, achieving the things we only dreamt of as kids. Doing what we were meant to do. Okay? Je t’aime tellment et mon coeur t’appartient” (I love you so much and my heart is yours)

Nodding, you whisper the sentiment back, before pulling away and pointing to the bottle of Dom you brought. “I’m so proud of you. You finally did it.”

Last weekend, he’d won the Monaco GP in front of all your family and friends. It hurt that you couldn’t be there to celebrate with him, so you made it your mission to find a way home as soon as possible, even if it’s just for the night.

The corners of his mouth turn up, “that for me amour?” Biting your lower lip, you smile “yeah, but….”

His eyebrow quirks like he knows what youre about to ask. “Can I spray it?” You ask sheepishly

He nods, laughing at your request, knowing that you’ve always enjoyed watching that part of the podium celebration and wanted to try it yourself. Grinning, you grab the bottle and pop the cork, dousing him lightly in champagne.

Charles grabs the bottle off you and returns the favour, soaking with you and the kitchen floor before taking a swig from the bottle. You pass the bottle back and forth as he pulls you back in to dance, both of you gradually getting tipsier. Champagne drips onto the floor as you sway to the sweet sounds of La Vie en Rose.

“You’re supposed to be in New York” he whispers, like saying it any louder will make you disappear.

“I’d rather be right here where you are. I took the long way from Singapore since we had a 3 day break. Its just for the night but I had to see you.”

“You know, we always seem to end up here.”

You’re confused, “at home?”

He shakes his head, looking a bit ridiculous “no, we both fly around the world, all over for work, but we always end up back here, dancing in the kitchen.”

Foreheads pressed together, you press a sweet kiss to his lips “I could spend a thousand nights right here. Dancing in the kitchen with you for the rest of my life.”

“As long as I’ve got you, everything will be okay” he mutters against your lips

“I’m forever yours”

Lost in your own world, dancing slowly around his kitchen, you both jump when a knock sounds.

“The pizza” you burst out in laughter as Charles goes to open the door, dripping Champagne all over the living room like a wet dog.

The rest of the night is spent curled up on the couch, talking about everything and nothing before you fall asleep tangled together. The next morning bring a teary goodbye as you head to the airport, unsure when the next time you’ll be together in person will be.

xx