#track lighting market

[iamidentical]

autostraddle... yikes

[logaenhowlett]

I ONLY WANT TO BE WITH YOU - L.H.

Summary: The small things are never just small things. For Logan, they're the constellations charting the story of him and you.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff (your heart may not be able to handle this), Established relationship, Domestic AF

A/N: I'll jump at any chance to write for Origins!Logan (he's my man fr). Here's another one for my A Weekend with Logan Howlett event! The prompt was ELATION. Title creds to Shelby Lynne.

MASTERLIST

“Honey, I’m home.”

“In the backyard!”

Keys follow a graceful arc as Logan tosses them into the tray by the door. And as always, they land with a soft clink, a quiet exhalation of metal on ceramic signalling the end of his workday.

The tray itself - a chipped, sun-faded thing you'd unearthed at an antique market one afternoon - bears the loving imprint of time. He remembers the way your eyes lit up immediately, declaring it "perfect" before playfully haggling with the vendor, your laughter ringing through the crowded stalls like a cascade of wind chimes.

Boots thud against the floor. As he toes them off, the memory of your gentle chiding surfaces; "Baby..." drawn out in an affectionate warning as you gestured to the offending muddy tracks.

Logan glances down, half-expecting the telltale streaks of dirt. Instead, the polished wood gleams back, pristine and devoid of smudges. And he knows, with a sweet certainty, that you'll be pleased.

His jacket sways the already-leaning coat rack, adding to the precarious balance of hats, scarves and dog leads you insisted on buying for the neighbour's German Shepherds. Those evenings - leash in hand as the dogs bound ahead, your face alight with a smile rivalling the setting sun - nestle warmly in the depths of his heart.

Couch cushions, dented from countless hours of cuddling and late-night reading, yield lightly beneath his touch as he ventures through the living room. On the coffee table, lit candles cast shadows across faint, nearly invisible rings of condensation, ghosts of beer bottles past.

The fireplace crackles merrily, chasing away the frosty air he'd braved last night to gather the wood piled neatly beside it. "Do you have to?" you'd murmured as he reluctantly unwound himself from your embrace. "I'll be quick, darlin'", the promise sealed with a kiss upon your nose.

Framed photographs adorn the mantlepiece above. One catches Logan's eye in particular: your first Christmas together. The ridiculously ugly sweater you'd crocheted with painstaking - and slightly misguided - enthusiasm encases him. He's tucked into your neck, seeking refuge from both the camera's flash and the itchy wool, but a small, happy smile betrays his discomfort.

Warm apple pie, its sweetness a siren's call, beckons him into the kitchen. A traitorous urge tempts him with visions of a generous sliver. But then he remembers your hand, light yet firm, swatting his greedy fingers away. "Dessert's after dinner, Lo," followed by his usual retort: "As long as you're on the menu, baby."

With a chuckle, he retrieves a bottle of ice-cold water from the fridge, briefly studying the disarray on its shiny surface. Sticky notes, some containing important reminders such as "Bring eggs please!" and "I love you" scrawled alongside silly doodles, compose a riot of colour and ink.

Just beyond the kitchen's threshold, a laundry basket rests patiently under the hallway light. Messy sheets from the morning spill over the rim, tangling with several orphaned socks and those boxers - the unbelievably soft ones you'd gifted him - that Logan swears he can't live without.

Familiar notes sound from the record player. Whistling along, he heads towards the bathroom, the basket bumping gently against his hip. And soon, the rhythmic whir of the washing machine falls in with the melody.

The chipped bathtub stands as evidence of an incident both clumsy and intimate from last week. Steam billowed in a thick cloud as warm water lapped at your shoulders. And in the heat of the moment, Logan's claws scraped a jagged scar across the smooth porcelain. The sudden snikt had been a jarring interruption, but the shared fit of giggles quickly dissolved any tension.

All these thoughts of you urge him straight towards the backyard. And happiness hits him square in the chest, because there you are - kneeling amidst flowerbeds, hands working the rich soil as you nurture your plants.

And then, the pieces fall into place.

Nights whiled away on the porch steps, dreaming about your lives together. The letter, a clerical error addressing you as Mr and Mrs Howlett, which you'd jokingly hung on the wall, echoing a quiet promise. Musings of tiny footprints padding across the floor of what's currently the spare bedroom.

This is it. This is his future.

Without warning, his arm curves beneath you, sweeping you off the ground. "Logan!" you exclaim, clutching his shoulders.

“Marry me. What do you say, sweetheart?"

[hopefullhearts]

Sickeningly Sweet [Scott Miller x Reader - Twisters]

summary: You are Tyler Owens' childhood best friend and member of his storm chasing crew. A storm outbreak means you and the gang cross paths with Storm Par on more than one occasion, and your sweet southern charm drives Scott crazy (in more than one way).

content warnings: somewhat heated kissing, no use of y/n, light name-calling/teasing, not proofread/bad writing (I have not written a fanfic in forever), bad taste in candy, & i think that is all!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: I have not written or posted on tumblr in SO long but I saw Twisters for the glenn powell craze and left with a scott/david corenswet obsession and these thoughts must come out of my head.

Shoutout to @hederasgarden and @sailor-aviator for leading the charge for the Scott girlies. All of their writings and drabbles inspired me to write this one, so check them out!

If people like this I might do a smutty part 2! I don't mind writing smut I just feel like it's not very good hahaha but let me know what you think!

--

You heavily resented the idea that guys and girls could not just be friends, because you'd be damned if Tyler Owens wasn't the best friend you ever had.

You met on the playground in Kindergarten. A boy pushed you off a swing, Tyler defended your honor, and the rest was history.

Tyler's overprotective streak made you view him like the brother you never had, and that's how your relationship remained. He was family, and that was that.

Tyler had always been interested in tornadoes, more specifically, how to track and predict them. You, on the other hand, hated science, including weather, but you loved the thrill of the chase.

In college, you studied marketing while Tyler studied meteorology. So, when Tyler had the idea to start streaming his storm chases, you were right there with him to help grow his brand.

Tyler knows he would be stupid not to credit you with all his success. You set up his streaming account, you edited all the clips and drone footage to post to his social media after the fact, and you even gave him the idea for the "Tornado Wrangler" nickname.

Now that everything was off the ground, you mostly put together streaming highlights and designed the merch, but you were right there in the backseat for every single chase, soaking up all the thrills.

This particular storm outbreak was expected to be a big one, so the whole crew strapped in for a week of bad weather, cheap motel rooms, and of course, a few run-ins with other chasers, including the guys from Storm Par.

"Storm Par's here." You said, gesturing to the fleet of white vans parked at the gas station you had just pulled up to.

"Of course they are." Tyler sighed. "There's probably going to be a lot of damage done by these storms for them to swoop in on. Just ignore them."

"No, we should be polite." You chastised him. "I'm gonna go say hi. Will you get me a cherry coke please?"

Tyler fought back an eye-roll, but nodded with a smile as you both got out of the car. "Of course."

Like everyone else in the crew, the Storm Par guys got on your last nerve. They were all a bunch of Ivy League grads who thought a more expensive degree made them better than everyone else.

However, being raised by your Mama, the epitome of Southern grace and charm, you always put a smile on your face and treated them with kindness. You even occasionally brought them food or coffee if you ran into them in the aftermath of a storm.

And even though you were blissfully unaware of the fact, this drove Scott absolutely mad.

"Hi Scott, Javi." You said cheerfully to the two boys in charge.

Scott replied with a grunt, but Javi was quick to greet you with genuine enthusiasm. "Hey! How are you?"

"I'm doing well." You nodded, smoothing your hands over your athleisure skirt. "Excited for a good chase today. How about you guys?"

"Us too." Javi nodded. "We're hoping to finally get some solid data collection today."

"Ah." You nodded, unsure what to say. You hated the idea of what they were collecting data for, but Javi seemed like a nice enough guy, and Tyler ripped on them enough for the both of you.

"Something on your mind there, princess?" Scott finally spoke, glancing away from his tablet to look down on you (literally and figuratively).

You rolled your eyes. While you would normally love to be called a princess, it always sounded like an insult coming from Scott, his voice always laced with a touch of venom.

"No, nothing at all." You smiled. "Just wondering if we'll see you guys in the aftermath if there's any damage done?"

"Why? Are you looking to increase your t-shirt sales?"

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold your composure and not let him get to you.

"Nope, just trying to figure out if we need to make some extra to-go boxes for you guys." You decided to focus your gaze on Javi instead, finding him less intimidating.

Javi opened his mouth to speak, but Scott beat him to the punch. "I think we can find food on our own, thanks."

You took a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. "Okay, well, the offer always stands if you change your mind."

Javi smiled and nodded. "As much as I want to see a good storm today, let's hope we don't have a ton of damage clean up."

You smiled. You knew he had a heart.

"That's something we both can agree on." You grinned. "Stay safe out there you guys!"

With that, you turned and walked away. Scott watched you go, your hair and skirt blowing side to side in the wind.

"Stay safe out there you guys." Scott mocked you under his breath.

"Yo, you don't always have to be a jerk to her, you know."

Scott gave him an unamused look. "She comes out here with her little boyfriend, selling his t-shirts and shit, and then skips over here like we're the best of friends with her thick southern accent. It's all fake."

"For one, I don't think Owens is her boyfriend." Javi corrected. "And two, I think she's just a genuinely nice person. She always says hello, even when everyone else in their crew ignores us like the plague."

"Whatever." Scott mumbled.

As you reached the truck, you took the ice-cold Coca-Cola bottle from Tyler's outstretched hand.

"Thank you!" You said excitedly, twisting the cap off to take a sip.

"How are dumb and dumber?" Tyler teased.

"Javi was nice." You informed him. "Scott was... there."

"Ah, yes." Tyler laughed. "Word on the street is he's a man of many words."

"Right." You agreed sarcastically. "But, when he does speak to me, he always calls me princess, and it drives me crazy."

"In what way?" Tyler said, failing to hold back a smirk.

It took you a moment to realize what he was implying, but when you did, you were mortified,

"Tyler Owens!" You gasped, your face flushing red with embarrassment.

""I'm just teasing you! You make it too easy." He laughed loudly. "In my defense, he looks like exactly like every boyfriend you've ever had."

Your face got even warmer, because he was exactly right. You had a weakness for tall, muscular, dark-haired men, and you especially loved a man who was a challenge.

"That is...irrelevant." You said, covering your face in your hands out of pure embarrassment.

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, as you rushed to talk about anything but Scott. "Let's just figure out what storm we're going after, you jerk." You insulted Tyler, but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

Scott watched the interaction from afar, and his chest twisted at your sickeningly sweet smile. Even if you weren't Owens' girlfriend, your closeness was evident. He ignored the burning feeling that was rising within him, not wanting to question why it was there in the first place.

Tornadoes were scary, but trying to understand how he felt about you? Terrifying.

"Alright, boss man, which storm are we chasing?" Javi pulled him out of his thoughts with a hand clapped on his shoulder, and he finally pulled his gaze away from your smile, the sound of your laughter fading into the background.

--

The storm was bad.

It hit a small town of about 3,000 people, and you estimated based on the initial damage scene that it was an EF3 at best, maybe even an EF4.

You were currently handing out anything that might be helpful to families who had been impacted by the tornado - blankets, water, heat lamps. pre-made sandwiches and cookies. You tried to offer them any comfort you could with a smile and hug, but you understood the devastation they felt all too well.

In the early days, you would try to help with the damage cleanup, but Tyler insisted that you stay back at the camper and talk to the families.

At first, you were insulted, and you thought that Tyler was insinuating you weren't strong enough to move heavy tree limbs or pieces of drywall. You finally asked him about it one day, and he laughed.

"Absolutely not!" He insisted. "You just have this energy around you that's calming, and these families need that. Your empathy and kindness are doing much more for them right now than cleaning up a bunch of rubble would."

You had never thought of it like that, but once Tyler pointed it out, it became your mission to be the solace that these families in crisis needed.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Smith?" You asked, rubbing the arms of a middle-aged woman who you had been speaking to for a few minutes now.

"No, thank you." She sniffled. "I really appreciate you guys being here. God bless you."

You smiled, giving her another hug. "Please let us know if there's anything more we can do to help."

She nodded, walking away to join her family, who were staring at the remains of their house.

You pushed back tears, feeling silly that this never got any easier for you, but also focused on being the anchor that these folks needed.

Scott saw you before you saw him. He watched you from afar as you did your work. He watched you force a smile and hold these people as they cried. He also watched you look up to blink back the tears before taking a deep breath and moving on to the next.

And damn if it didn't drive him nuts.

This job is easier when he doesn't get involved with the people impacted. It's easier to pretend not to care. But watching you pour your heart out to strangers, just because it's the right thing to do? It made his heart jump, and that scared him.

Ignoring the people involved and ignoring his feelings for you had become increasingly more difficult with every chase.

"Scott!" You called, approaching him with a styrofoam container in your hand.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself as you literally bounced over to him.

How the hell does someone look this good after taking on a tornado?

"Here." You offered him the container. "It's just a ham and cheese sandwich and a cookie."

"I'm really not hungry." He responded.

"Seriously?" You asked, not buying it. "We've all been chasing since 10 AM and it's nearly 8, you have to be hungry."

Scott shrugged, trying to hold back the things he really wanted to say.

"Fine." You sighed. "We're right over here if you change your mind."

"Yeah, I know princess. It's hard to miss you being the town's savior over there."

Scott watched you visibly retract and he internally screamed as his heart dropped. You probably hated him, but it didn't matter anyway. You were far too sweet for him, so putting a wedge between the two of you seemed to be the smartest way to outrun his feelings.

"Wow." You spoke, your voice much smaller and shakier than usual. "I knew you were sarcastic and maybe even a little mean, but I never thought you were actually cruel. So, thanks, for enlightening me."

And with that, you turned and strutted off. This time, you failed to fight back the tears as you returned to the camper.

And to your horror, Tyler was there, taking a break from clean up for some water.

When Tyler sees you cry, his overprotective streak comes out instantly, and right now you didn't want to be protected, because you were so embarrassed that he finally got to you. You were even more embarrassed that you thought that just maybe, he might be a good person under that scowl and hard facade.

"Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" Tyler rushed up to meet you.

You nodded, trying to stop sniffling. "I'm fine."

Tyler looked behind you to see Scott watching you closely, with a look that almost mimicked longing, and he quickly put two and two together.

"Let me handle this." He insisted.

You shook your head in protest. "No, Tyler, please, he thinks I'm a waste of time anyways, it's not worth it."

"Trust me, he doesn't," Tyler reassured you. "Let me handle this, and if it goes badly, I'll edit all the stream highlights for the next two weeks, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded.

You truly did trust him more than anyone in your life, so you opted to go inside the camper and dry up your tears while he went to speak to Scott. You would let Tyler handle it, but no way were you going to stand there and watch, looking like a puppy who just got kicked.

"Coming to defend your girlfriend's honor?" Scott said sarcastically, trying to mask any emotion he was feeling.

"Dude, seriously." Tyler glared at him. "If you want her attention being a complete and total asshole is not the way you get it."

"Is that what you think? That I want her 'attention'?" He said, framing the last word in air quotes.

"Yeah, I do." Tyler nodded. "I saw the look you gave her as she walked away."

"Okay, so what?" Scott shrugged. "You might be surprised to know I am human and I didn't mean to make her cry."

"Sure." Tyler nodded. "So, what about all the other times I've caught you staring at her, hm?"

Scott stayed silent, stunned speechless.

"Ah, you thought you were better at hiding it, didn't you?" Tyler said with a smug grin. "Every time we end up at the same gas station, restaurant, bar, or motel, your eyes follow her nearly the whole time. And don't even get me started on the holes you burn into my head when I'm talking to her."

"Alright, fine." Scott snapped angrily. "Here to rub it in my face then?"

Tyler sighed in frustration. "No."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to give you a piece of advice."

"Why?" Scott scoffed. "It's no secret that we aren't friends."

"I know her better than anyone else, do you want my help or not?" Tyler asked, his patience nearing its limit.

Scott didn't protest this time.

"Look, no matter what I think about you, you're pretty much exactly her type," Tyler said, much to Scott's surprise. "So if you want her, apologize and tell her how you feel."

"She's not going to feel the same, and she deserves much better than me." Scott retorted. "C'mon Owens, you know what we do. When she comes floating into these broken towns like a heaven-sent angel, I'm collecting data for the devil."

"That doesn't have to be a permanent problem." Tyler pointed out. "Plus, she likes a challenge, and she's definitely brave enough to think she can fix you."

That cracked a smile from both of them, followed by a moment of silence.

"218." Tyler said.

"What?"

"That's the room she's staying in tonight." Tyler said, starting to walk away. "Apologize."

Scott nodded, beginning to formulate a plan on how the hell he was going to get you to forgive him.

--

You were snug under your blanket in the motel room watching reruns of Modern Family when the knock came.

You sighed and got up, not bothering to check the peephole as you assumed it was just Tyler coming to talk about the day's events.

So when you opened the door to see Scott standing there, you couldn't be more surprised.

"What are you doing here?" You said quietly, nearly breathless at the sight of him.

It wasn't the first time you had seen him outside of that stupid Storm Par white jumpsuit, but it was the first time you had seen him in gray sweatpants and a tight black long-sleeve shirt that clung to his muscles in a way that you could only describe as sinful.

He towered over you, leaning against the frame of the doorway, and you nearly shuddered when you looked up to meet the intense gaze in his eyes.

"I brought you something. As an apology for being an ass earlier today."

"Oh, and what did you bring for all the other times?" You spat back, no longer in the mood to play nice with him.

"I deserve that." He sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Depends." You responded, and he raised an eyebrow. "What did you bring me?"

He handed you a plastic bag, and you opened it to find a Cherry Coke, Sour Patch Kids, and a Honey Bun.

All of your favorites.

"How did you know what I like?" You asked, curious to know if Tyler was behind this.

"You always get some combination of the three at any local gas station." He shrugged.

He remembered because the first time he saw you buy all three he physically rolled his eyes, because, of course, you would buy snacks just as sickeningly sweet as you.

"I didn't know you paid this much attention to me." You said softly.

"Yeah." Scott inhaled a sharp breath. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I please come in?"

You opened the door, inviting him in with the gesture. The door shut behind you, and there was a brief moment of silence between you two.

"I'm sorry, for being a jerk today and every other time I'm around you." Scott started, visibly nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. "I wish I had a better explanation for why I've been such an ass."

"Yeah, so let's hear it." You said, hands on your hips. "Because I have been nothing but nice to you, even though I don't like who you work for and what they stand for."

"I know." He nodded. "At first, I thought you were being fake or sarcastic because it was unfathomable to me that you would be nice to us when you have absolutely no reason to be."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But once I learned more about you, and I realized you were being genuinely nice," Scott took a deep breath, building up all his courage. "It knocked me off my feet."

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused at what he was getting at

"I spend most of my time pretending that I don't care about the people that are devastated by all of this, because it's easier that way. But watching you bear your heart and soul to all of these people, just because you can?" Scott scoffed. "It makes it hard to pretend like I don't care about them, or more importantly, about you."

"You care about me?"

"I do." He nodded. "And I was a jerk to you because I thought it would be easier to make you hate me than it would be to admit that I have feelings for you, when you're far too good for me."

His admission stunned you. You can feel your heart thumping out of your chest as you look into his eyes, which look painstakingly vulnerable.

"I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but I couldn't outrun these feelings anymore, and I wanted to at least let you know that I'm sorry."

The room fell silent as you processed everything he just told you. Scott was panicking inside, waiting for what felt like years for you to say something, anything.

"Do you know why I was always nice to you?" You asked him. "Because I was hoping that somewhere in there you had a good side. I needed to know that you had a heart before I could admit to myself that I felt drawn to you."

"Do you still? Feel drawn to me?"

You nodded. Stepping closer to him so that you were nearly face to face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please." You nodded desperately, your words barely above a whisper.

His lips were on yours in a flash, and the pure intensity of the kiss nearly knocked you off your feet. It was heated and rough, but somehow gentle and passionate at the same time. His thumb grazed your cheek as he pulled you closer, and every spot his fingers touched made your skin feel like it was on fire. You couldn't get enough of him.

Once he knew you were comfortable, he took the liberty of exploring you more. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently and his teeth caught your bottom lip, causing a small whimper to come from the back of your throat.

Scott groaned at the sound, letting his mind imagine (not for the first time) all of the sounds he could pull from you.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, he kept you close, his hands ghosting under your chin around your neck, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"You taste just as sweet as I thought you would," Scott said with a smirk.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

[tasteracha]

a/n: minho puts a vibrator in you and makes you ride his thigh idk there is no plot here. i wrote this in 20 mins. smut - MINORS DNI.

this might have been the most stressful car ride of your entire life. every single bump, turn, and stop of the vehicle sent pangs of want pulsing through your core, and the worst part is that the toy wasn’t even on the highest setting yet. 

minho had handed the thing to you as you were walking out of the door and watched with hungry eyes as you slipped it under the hem of your sundress, past the lining of your underwear and into your hole with a slight shudder. it was the kind that settled right against your spot, curving perfectly, with a piece jutting out that nestled against your clit. it came with a remote control that minho tucked into his pocket with a smirk and a wicked glint in his eyes. 

he had kept you at a low buzz as he drove down roads, speeding through yellow lights and jerking at stop signs just to see your reaction. he was a good driver usually, so you knew he was doing this on purpose, the fucker. 

he turns it off when he parks at your destination, a busy market street that the two of you liked to frequent to window shop. he was kind to you when you were walking in public, only slipping his hand into his pocket when you got too comfortable with the sensation of the toy inside of you. you nearly forgot about it several times until he’d hit you with a series of quick buzzes that makes you stop in your tracks and press your legs together. you could feel wetness building in your core, dripping onto your underwear and you prayed that it wouldn’t start dripping down your thighs. as much as he would enjoy it, the thought of the sensation made you cringe in disgust. 

it’s only when you both return to the car in a secluded parking garage that he takes out the small remote and runs his fingers against the buttons. every time his nail catches on the button that raises the vibrations you tense up, but he repeats the motions again and again until you relax into the carseat. the click of a button echoes through the entire car when he finally presses it, and you’re embarrassingly close to coming from how on edge you’ve been for the past hour. 

he knows - of course he does. he knows you better than he knows himself, can read your body like it’s a worn out novel on his bedside table. he turns off the vibrator when you’re reaching the crest of your peak, and you’re left clenching around the toy as your high escapes you. you try to chase it but it runs faster than you can move your hips, and you collapse against the seat with a groan. 

“come here,” he pats his leg and pops back his seat as far as it can go, making room for you to fit between him and the steering wheel. the angry retort on your lips dies as you meet his eyes and see the possessiveness in them; he looks close to feral. you take a glance outside the windows to make sure that no one was outside before climbing over the central console, trying to climb into his lap. 

you want to be wrapped around him, you want to feel his comforting touch against every inch of your hypersensitive body, but he pulls you away when you try to press close. he pushes you to the side until you’re straddling just his thigh, and the hard muscle there pushes the toy closer to your clit and deeper inside of you. your dress falls to the sides, leaving your thighs touching the material of his jeans and your soaked underwear definitely staining them.

he turns on the vibrator again, pushing it to a higher setting than you’d been before, and the moan you let out was borderline pornographic. you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it because he throws the remote into the cupholder and wraps his fingers around your hips in a tight grip. he pushes you back a bit before pulling you back into him, over and over until it clicks - he wants you to ride his thigh. in a public parking garage, where anyone could walk in and see your desperation and helplessness. the thought makes your entire body burn and you can’t help the way your hips jerk along with his movements. 

it’s absolutely euphoric, the way he’s gripping you in a way that will leave fingerprint shaped bruises on your skin paired with the vibrator buzzing against your clit and rumbling inside of you. you can’t think of anything other than the searing pleasure building up inside of you and you don’t realize that your eyes have fluttered shut until he moves one of his hands to grip your chin, keeping your gaze pinned on him. 

he looks wrecked just watching you, his lips parted and his eyes unblinking as he watches you fall apart. you come with a full body shudder, your eyes rolling back into your head as you lose your balance and fall into him. he keeps the vibrator on as you ride your way through your orgasm, and he wraps his arms around you as overstimulation starts to set in. you squirm, trying to escape the near painful pleasure sparking through your belly, but he keeps you pinned to him until you start to cry into his shoulder. 

you don’t see it, but you know he’s smiling at your cries; there’s nothing he loves more than bringing you to tears from pleasure. 

he turns it off after a few moments and your body melts against his, your limbs feeling like jelly and your head fuzzy like cotton. you bury your head into his neck, the collar of his jacket digging into your cheek and the smell of leather invading your senses. he strokes your back until your tears stop, whispering praises into your hair in between gentle kisses. when you gain some control of your body, you shift a little and you can feel the slick that’s collected between your legs. you wince and let out a little whine, and he shushes you and presses a final kiss to your forehead. 

“i’ll run you a bath when we get home, angel,” he promises. 

“mm,” you agree, nuzzling against him. “but i’m not moving for at least another ten minutes.” 

[lamamasjamas]

To Serve or Indulge

Summary: Your sensitivity to darkness leads you to a path of vices.

A/n: Saw a tweet that said that Sith should seduce Jedi to the dark side with lust and I thought that was so true. Canon isn’t real to me so reader is a Jedi Sentinel who specializes in being a shadow agent. 🤗

Warnings: Allusion to dubcon smut, freaky foreplay dreams, JediShadow!Reader, a slice of what’s to come… 🤫

Tah’Nuhna. Cold, peaceful, neutral. The order kept a close eye on the Tah’Nuhnans. You were lured there for a reason.

Neutrality meant they never picked sides. It also meant it was a safe haven, for light and dark alike. The darkness was pungent as you wandered the streets of the crystallized city.

The penetrating reflections of the structures shine onto you and make you wince in irritation as you were led to your temporary quarters

The same darkness you’ve tracked has kept you up at night for months. It infiltrates your dreams. It would envelope you every night, making your heart pump, your skin dew in anticipation.

A red flame would catch your eye and before you knew it a heat was upon your neck like a bolt.

You’d wake up with fear and your hands would tremble to your side instinctively. You’d forget that your blade was stored at your bedside.

A shadow can only make itself known with light. Some of your companions would question the existence of your sect. You would question their own devotion to the light.

It was a necessity to act ruthlessly in order to snuff them out. Amulets, talismans, and artifacts of the Sith were still passed and traded throughout the galaxy.

Less so after a millennia of Jedi intervention. But the danger of Sith influence was always a concern to the council.

Despite what they might discuss with others.

Oftentimes, extreme measures were taken to disrupt the spread of Sith knowledge and teachings. Some would die to keep their secrets and you weren’t one to deny them that wish.

Trained to be sensitive to darkness seemed counterintuitive. It threatened to envelope you and shroud the light at times. It was dangerous to be so close.

The exposure of temptations, of power, fear, and anger, some would say, would make you a hazard among your peers.

A spy is what they call you, with their lips pursed and eyes narrowed in slight disdain. You didn't wear the same golden robes they did; you often mimicked the attire of an old Sith.

Dark muted colors served to deter attention, but the saber at your hip was a reminder to those keen enough to look you over that you were part of the order spread over the republic to maintain peace.

A puff of condensation escapes past your lips, the market was full despite the deep chill that morning. Your robes didn't help from the cold shivers passing through your body.

But you had a feeling the discomfort was more than the frigid temperature.

The dark lured you in. Your efficiency in identifying depended on the innate attraction to it. You could feel the air shift.

You stop mid-step, a deep burning dug into your ribs, your cheeks pinched and your skin puckered. It was calling to you. The crowd around you grumbled as you blocked the middle of the path.

Your hand braced against your saber as a hooded figure roughly bumped past you. So rough your shoulders twisted you out of your stoic composition. Their fingers had skimmed right over the clip of your handle tauntingly.

You pause as they look back, revealing the face of a man with a teasing smile, his hair parted along the sides of his face messily. His eyes roamed over your form, analyzing you for a moment before pursing his lips in contemplation.

He turned and rushed away.

It was then that you realized, as he turned the corner. Your heart sunk to your stomach and your lungs stopped mid breath.

He was coated in it, plunged and dripping. But he was looking for something. He was lured by the same darkness you've been sensing the second you landed.

This was a new challenge. You had to find the Sith remnant first.

…

It should start off the same. You wake up inside the temple of Coruscant, soft footsteps litter outside your door. Low whisperings pass by. The room smells of paper, ink and linen.

It was simple, a window, a desk, and a bunk. There was enough space in your drawers to have changes of robes and civilian clothes.

Nothing unnecessary. You reach beside you disoriented, already knowing where the dream was going to lead.

The tips of your fingers barely reach the familiar metal of the handle of your saber. Your relief was cut short.

Your head pounds. In a blink of an eye the room darkens, it was raining, and your window howled as if the water burned its frames.

The tunic and loose pants that you wore plastered against the front of your body, your arm moves to block the stabbing droplets of cold rain from your face.

Then a flash of red blurs your vision, the corner of your eye catching it briefly before you wince heavily from the heat of it.

You feel it at your throat, your eyes are closed in anticipation of the threat of the blade's proximity.

You tremble and stand frozen as firm muscle snakes up your waist and torso, holding your stomach in place against a broad chest.

It has never gotten this far. You always wake up as soon as the heat creeped up your shoulder and to your neck. Another heat creeps up beside your head, it leans against your temple and rests there.

Strands of dark hair fall beside your face and you shiver. It was him.

He smells like fresh wet dirt, green cuttings and a hint of metal. You can feel the exhale of his breaths warm the top of your cheek.

The buzz of the saber taunts you, unmoving.

“Inspiring. Isn’t it?”

You open your eyes to find yourself in a cavern surrounded by stored relics and antiques. All Sith memorabilia. Your mouth is dry as you speak. You were in a daze of confusion and sleep. Even as you dread to admit it, you were struck with fear.

Your mind could barely catch up.

“What?-”

“Show me where this is,” his voice echoed throughout the stone walls, it made you squirm against his chest.

Your eyes widened, your mind was clearing, and you recognized where you stood. A select few knew where shadow agent's findings were kept.

You stiffened and he could feel you prepare yourself to disarm him. He didn’t want that.

His hold on your stomach tightened, the fabric of your tunic twisting in his grip. His temple pushes against yours and his lips skim past the shell of your ear, shushing gently.

Your heart races, something curls in your stomach as he tsks at your weak attempts at escape. You blame it on exhilaration, not…

You close your eyes tightly and shake your head with a thick swallow. He was clouding your mind somehow. All you could feel was the beat of his heart, the strength of his hand rising underneath your shirt and touching the skin of your belly.

You were surrounded by darkness, locked in and trapped like a loth cat sinking in tar. You had to resist and yet you didn't have the strength to.

He puts his weapon away, his other hand glides atop your arm until he reaches your hand, turning it upright until he could cup it in his palm.

You felt… weak. You can feel him smile against you. The same smile he had in the market.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

Your ears ring, his lips graze over the soft skin of your neck.

“Let it win," he mutters as he nuzzles against your skin. Your eyes flutter and you exhale shakily.

His hips press against the small of your back. He sucks, you whimper as you shake your head pitifully. You can feel him smile, a hum making your skin erupt in tingling bumps.

He was enjoying watching you squirm weakly, so wavering, so conflicted.

His mouth continues downwards, lightly pecking over the swell of your breasts, returning to their ferocity along your collarbones.

This was only a dream, you repeated in your own thoughts. The hand creeping down your hips, the dark locks you thread your fingers in with acceptance of the pleasure he was giving you.

It had to be a dream.

Fingers slipped underneath the cotton band of your pants. His palm cupped you and flexed. The deep groan of satisfaction he gave, finding you aroused and wet, rumbled through your chest.

His head lifts, his nose bumps into yours and his eyes flicker to your lips. For a few seconds your eyes connect, he smiles playfully.

“I’ll find you.”

The bed springs creaked loudly as you sat up quickly. Your hand went up to your throat, the area feeling sore.

Your skin was tingling, alight by the visions in your dream. With a wince you stand, feeling an ache on your hips from where you were held.

The door to the quarter's restroom slid open loudly enough to make you jump. As you felt around your chest, you could feel more tender spots.

The memory of the mysterious man’s hands flash through your mind. You could almost feel the heat of his mouth, the intention of his touch again.

Shame fills you, these types of interactions were frowned upon, much less with someone so far gone into a path of chaos.

You splash water over your face, the towel feeling rough on your skin. Refreshing. You take deep breaths in, your mind was finally calming.

You almost chuckle from how absurd your night was, you finally look up above the sink.

The reflection on the mirror made your heart stop. Small splotches of raised red and purple were scattered along your neck, your collarbones and over your breasts.

Succumbing to the floor you place your hands over your mouth, trying and failing to will the image of his grin out of your head.

…

A/n update: Reblogs and comments keep authors going, por si no supieran! Please support fics and authors you want to see more of! 🫶❤️

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentence (five)

lando norris - "you're so very tempting..."

tags: smut/pwp, friends-with-benefits (with feelings), simp!lando, sanrio plushies, possessive behavior, jealousy & manipulation, safe sex

the sinful sentences catalogue

this was not according to plan. this was supposed to be fun. you should be honoured really, lando never liked tapping the same girl twice. let alone three, four, five, seven times. he had lost count the amount of times he had fucked you into the mattress of his bed. watched you reach climax in the sea of soft pillows, your heavy pants into the light grey pillowcases as your back arched with a primal want.

but what started out as a means to an end. had become something a little more intense. it was like lighting matches in a gas station, the inferno was bound to happen. and it all started over a fucking stuffed animal.

"liam got you this?" he asked as he plucked it off of your bed, "are you fucking him?" he tried to keep the jealousy at bay.

"no!" you said as you crossed your arms and looked at him, "you know people give gifts to each other and not just when they're apologizing for something." you had a vast collection of luxury items from lando because he fucked up. you didn't know why he was getting jealous of liam.

lando looked at the stuffed animal, it was of hello kitty or one of those little sanrio things. the marketable plushie that seemed to invade every female's bedroom like mold. lando hated the thing. he looked at it and said, "you're so very tempting... tempting to throw in the trash." and the toy was taken from his hand and you wrapped your arms around it quickly. the face of the toy was right in the valley of your breasts that were covered by your bra.

"excuse me! don't talk that way to my melody!" that was the name of it, "be nice to her!"

lando made a face, "i would be nice to her, if she wasn't given to you by that fucker." he got into bed with you. he got his hands on either side of you and leaned you further back into the bed, "i don't like him touching what is min."

you frowned, "we're just friends, lando. you didn't want commitment, remember?" lando's biggest failure. it wasn't on the track, but rather not pinning you down. he said he was casual and he had regretted it every day since.

"well, unless you wanna be used by drivers until your worn out like a tire, i suggest you limit your driver fucking to one." to him. and you shoved him before you laid back in bed. the toy discarded to the other side of the bed.

"i didn't think you were capable of being so fucking possessive." you said before you pulled him by the front of his t-shirt. you sealed your lips against his and he started to get his joggers off. his stupid fucking words excited you sexually. and while it was all casual, it was nice to see him get so wound up over you.

you knew he was a sucker for you, and you flirted with that idea. liam didn't get you the stuffed animal, you bought it yourself at the drug store and lied to lando about it. to watch the british driver bite his words because some rookie is trying to get in his territory. it was cute in its patheticness. his clothes came off along with your undergarments.

you watched lando angrily grab one of the condoms out of the box on the nightstand and get it on before his situations himself between your legs. his handsome eyes bore into your heated flesh like he was trying to make holes in your skin. only he got to see you like this, under him and sexually needy.

when he sank into you, he cursed under his breath. you fit like a vice and even with the condom on, he could still feel the heat of your pussy. this was why he didn't want liam lawson to be sniffing around what it is. yeah, it was casual, but that didn't mean lando had to share. call him a selfish prick for that, he didn't care. you were his, and no rookie was going to take that from him.

especially when he leaned forward and started to move against you. he maintained eye contact as he thrusted against you. he held onto the covers under you as used the surface as leverage to work his cock inside of you. the bed creaked under the movements and the slick sounds of fucking filled the air paired with your heated noises.

"shit, that's it. that feels good." lando licked his lips and made eye contact with the stuffed toy near the wall. its plastic eyes watched lando ruin your cunt. stuff it full of him. he knew it was stupid, but he grinned wickedly at the toy as he continued to move against you.

he wished he could take photos of what he was doing to you right at that moment. show liam exactly how to pleasure a woman of your caliber. lando was certain that liam wouldn't even make you cum, that you'd have to fake an orgasm. but you've never faked with lando, he knew it. because he knew your body like he knew his. how to hit at just the right spots to make you see stars.

this casual affair between you two was heated to its roots. lando wanted you more than just sexually. but no amount of luxury he could give you was enough. you weren't easily swayed by material goods. as you once told him, "i'm not a crow, no need to distract me with shiny objects." but lando knew he was going mad every time he saw you with someone else.

you sated every need in his body, why couldn't you simply be his? why did you have to keep so close to the terms of being casual. lando needed you and he didn't need someone else trying to worm their way into your life. he couldn't allow it, he wouldn't allow it.

"look at you, under me. don't need plushies when you got me. you hated gifts, what made lawson so special."

you pushed your luck as you replied, "because he's actually a gentleman. not a panting dog looking to get his dick sucked every hour of every day. he at least knows how to treat a woman." it was all utter bullshit, but you felt lando's pace stagger for a moment from your words.

"bigger than me, princess?" he panted heavily, "does it stretch you out the way i do? leave you a mess? i know you talk big game about wanting a gentleman. so i need to know, is he bigger?"

you reached out and held onto his shoulders tightly, "no." then pulled him in for another kiss. you moaned into the kiss and tightened your thighs around his waist as he fucked you with heavy strokes. the pleasure made your head throb as the he clutched onto the covers tighter.

the pleasure was intense, the movements were rough. the sexual electricity was felt between you two as the kisses got more heated. you liked when lando became a man possessed when it came to his envy. he was a slave to his jealousy when it really gripped him. his breathing were heavy pants as he continued to move against you. the pleasure was a monster inside of him as his movements continued.

when he broke the kiss, he looked down at you with a glint in his eye, "he could never fuck you like this. he could never take you the way i do. he's a pussy." he pressed into you further, his pace was brutal and it made you only hotter.

your orgasm felt close the more he fucked you. the more his heavy thrusts made your mind go blank for a split second. you held onto his shoulders tightly and let him use your pussy to his liking. taking every ounce of pleasure that he could give you. if he was jealous then you were greedy for his cock.

he was right, no one else could ever have you the way he did. no other man could bring you to climax the way he did. he had re-wired your brain sexually that other hook-ups seemed so bland. lando knew exactly how to fuck you. so it was no surprise that after another round of heated kisses, you held onto him tightly and your toes curled.

you came around his cock and he soon came in the condom. you tensed up and lurched forward from the sensation and he kept you pinned down as you both finished. then slowly he came to a stop and grabbed you by the face to kiss you once more.

lando groaned against the kiss and he rubbed his softening cock inside of you to get that extra bit of pleasure before he felt content with what he had done. when he pulled out. he got up to toss the condom and when he got into bed. he grabbed the plush and looked it in its plastic eyes.

before he could make more threats to it. you plucked it from his hands, "either your nice to it or you can make yourself comfortable on my couch tonight."

he made a face and mentally promised himself. is liam lawson thought your affection was for sale, then lando would have to double the offer and make sure that you didn't end up in that rookie's arms. <3

[mynameisjag]

Because I just remembered, as author, I have power to do whatever the hell I want in fanfiction. The only powers in the universe that can stop me is my terrible ADD and terrible sleeping habits.

It’s a sequel to ‘Mistaken for Wolverine's and Wade's possible kid.'

There was a possible feral child running around with claws and a smart mouth.

“We'll take him home, keep him in the bathroom for a little while so Laura can get used to his scent and then slowly introduce them to each other.”

“…they aren’t cats…”

“Right, weasel family, close enough.”

Logan rolled his eyes with grunt, the smell of crushed ice and iron filling his nose, they had been following the kids scent for awhile now, enough for a quick change out of uniform to throw on street clothes.

Wade had thrown on an over large sweater with the hoodie pulled up with a face mask and glasses, Logan himself was dressed in one of his flannels.

“We look like the Unibomber and the Bounty Paper mascot have decided to go on a date at the local market.”

They were close, the tracks had lead them to a more public place, a small outdoor fruit market, but there was no sign of white hair anywhere. Though that didn’t matter if the kid could go invisible.

They were close though…

“So what’s the bet that baby wolvie can change his appearance to fit in?”

“Hmm?”

Wade nudged their shoulders together as he gave a subtle nod over to the next stall, black hair, blue eyes, different clothes…but the smell remained the same…

“Oh, boy, whoever made this designer baby knew what they were doing, still has those sharp claws and cute little fangs you both share. Congratulations to us? What we naming him?”

“Wade.”

“Right, assuming gender, my apologies.”

The man actually snorted in brief amusement, getting what he knew was a wide grin even if it was covered up, he rolled his eyes as the usually red covered merc grabbed his bicep, “He could be a Void escapee, I don’t smell any other human smells on him, let’s stay up wind right now.”

Wade gave the arm he was attached to a small squeeze, “Led the way Mr. Paper Picker Upper.”

They moved slowly through the crowd, eyes on the kid but still keeping a distance incase he picked up the super senses trait.

Lightly clawed hands were picking up apples, sniffing them then placing them down, head would tilt and the ears would twitch, he was still listening for any kind of disturbance. Eyes would focus on a fruit, then dart to the side, still wary and still watching out.

“The face shape and features are the same…need better proof though.”

“Lucky you and the need for the plot to move forward, looks like someone has itchy knuckles and a case of peekaboo.”

Sure enough, one hand was rubbing at the knuckles were a slight sheen glinted in the sunlight before disappearing.

The kid was frowning down at his own hands, distracted enough to not notice Wade casually stroll up behind him, “Baby boy, is that you! You’ve been gone for two years! We thought you were dead!”

Logan sighed tiredly, accepting his fate as he watched his partner throw his arms around the child in a crushing hug, wailing dramatically how they would be so much better parents now, they would support his interest in professional knitting and how dare he leave with a note written in cursive.

Phones were out, people were clapping over the tearful reunion, the poor kid looked shocked to be manhandled over to him by Wade.

“It’s your Daddy, I know he is currently cosplaying a lumberjack, but he’s still the asshole we love.”

Logan could only shake his head, letting out a huff before staring down the kid, “Ready to have that chat?”

Bright blue eyes glared up at him on a level of unimpressed that only teens could reach, “I don’t know, are you ready to go save Goldilocks, I think you better go off and get lost in the woods looking for her.”

“Oh, he is just the Sassiness! He gets it from me, I swear! Just an absolute deee-light!"

[thesturniolos]

make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)

જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?

જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)

જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make

you mine.’

do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.

and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.

and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.

the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.

it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.

it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.

like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.

you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it��s going to go though.

before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.

im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.

‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.

‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘

‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.

‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.

‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.

‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’

‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘

“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.

“i guess so-“

“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.

“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”

my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.

and with that, something ticks inside me.

i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?

why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.

well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.

i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.

‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.

his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”

“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.

our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.

my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”

his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.

“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.

i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.

hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.

my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.

i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.

“but we’re in here with so many people-“

“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.

the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.

after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.

i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.

sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.

i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.

20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.

i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.

his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”

“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.

“that’s not how this works around here.”

“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?

he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”

“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.

“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”

i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.

“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”

i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word

“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”

his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.

his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.

he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.

he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.

“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.

i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.

my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.

he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”

i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.

he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”

i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.

the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.

“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.

this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.

he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.

i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.

my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.

“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.

i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.

“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.

he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.

a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.

“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.

“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”

“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.

“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.

my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.

he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.

“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.

“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”

“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.

“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.

“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”

the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.

“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.

“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.

as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.

i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.

he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.

“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.

he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”

“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.

“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.

his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.

“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.

“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.

“you want me here?”

“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”

“you want me to move?”

“please.”

“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.

the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.

“oh my fucking god! matt-“

he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.

my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.

“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”

he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.

he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”

and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.

he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.

“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.

“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”

i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.

i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.

he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.

i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.

i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.

“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.

“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.

“i’m gonna cum-“

“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.

“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?

“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.

our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.

matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.

“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.

“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”

i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?

“so-“

“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.

i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”

hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)

tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked

[mynicosensesaretingling]

When the Snow Falls

a Lando Norris x reader story

Request: Can you write me Christmas market date with Lando including first kiss? 🙏🏼Childhood friends to lovers, I always got dragged to karting racing by my dad and that's how we know each other.

Warnings: none , written in my notes app

Note: I guess I am officially kicking off the christmas season with this one. It’s my first time writing for Lando but I most certainly hope you enjoy it <3

——

The year was slowly but surely coming to an end, with Christmas just around the corner you found yourself on your way to your first Christmas market visit of the season. For as long as you could remember, Christmas markets had always been your favorite part of the holidays, and this year, it felt even more special—because you were going with Lando.

You’d known Lando Norris practically forever. Your dad had dragged you along to karting races when you were both kids, and you’d quickly bonded over the long hours at the track. Back then, you didn’t care much for racing, but you did like hanging out with him. Already as a child, Lando had managed to make everything fun—whether he was sneaking you snacks from the paddock or teasing you about how bored you looked while your dad obsessively watched the races.

Even years later, when Lando’s career took off and he became a Formula 1 driver, things between you didn’t change. Sure, he got more famous, busier, and a lot harder to keep up with, but whenever you saw him, it was like nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing.

Lately, things had been… different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something between you had shifted. There were moments now where he looked at you just a little too long, where his jokes seemed to hold a new kind of meaning or where his hand lingered on your shoulder, sending chills up your spine. You’d always been close, but lately, you found yourself thinking about him in a way that friends shouldn’t—like the way his smile would make your heart swell with joy or how the sound of his voice made your chest tighten just a little.

And now here you were, approaching the Christmas market bundled up in your favourite scarf and a thick coat, with snow lightly falling around you. Letting your eyes wander over the scene in front of you, you could easily tell that the market was packed, the sound of music was mixing with the lively chatter of the people, various colourful lights were twinkling overhead and the winter breeze carried the smell of seasonal treats and mulled wine. The whole place looked like something out of a Christmas movie.

You spotted Lando waiting for you near the entrance, hands shoved in his pockets, his breath fogging in the cold air and snow flakes adorning his wild curls. When his searching gaze found you, his face lit up with a grin that sent warmth all the way to your toes—despite the freezing weather.

“About time!” Lando called out with a teasing smile. “I was starting to think you ditched me for someone more fun.”

“Like who?” you shot back, chuckling as you walked up to him. “I’m only here for the free hot chocolate.”

“Harsh,” he said with a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “But understandable.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. That was the thing about Lando—he made everything easy. With him, you didn’t have to try too hard to be funny or smart or interesting. He just got you. Always had.

Lando bumped his shoulder lightly against yours, a playful spark in his eyes. “Come on then, let's see what else we can find to complain about.” he teased. But his words held a warmth that wrapped around you like the winter chill never could. You knew he wasn’t just talking about the market—it was his way of reminding you how comfortable everything felt when it was the two of you.

As you linked arms and wandered into the market, the festive lights twinkling overhead, you felt that familiar feeling of comfort settle over you, the kind that only ever seemed to come when you were with Lando. Despite everything—the years, the fame, the distance—it still felt like it was just the two of you against the world, like it had always been.

“So,” Lando said as you passed a stall selling Christmas ornaments, his breath visible in the cold air. “You still remember how much you hated coming to the karting track back in the day?”

You laughed, gently shaking your head at the unexpected throwback. “I didn’t *hate* it. I just wasn’t obsessed with it like you were.”

“Liar,” Lando teased, nudging you playfully. “You looked absolutely miserable every time I saw you.”

“Yeah, because my dad was way more invested than I was,” you shot back with a grin. “But you made it bearable. I could always count on you offering me an escape from the racing madness.”

He smiled softly at that, and for a second, the teasing glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by something else—something that made your heart skip a beat. “Well, you were mine too, you know. It wasn’t all about the karting.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a brief moment, the bustling market seemed to fade around you. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Lando pointed toward a stall up ahead. “Come on, let’s get you that hot chocolate you came here for in the first place.”

You followed him through the crowd, the energy of the market buzzing around you, but your thoughts kept circling back to that look in his eyes. There had been something different about it—something that made the air feel just a little heavier between you.

Whilst you had been lost in thought Lando had bought two steaming cups of hot chocolate and you only found yourself snapping back to reality when the driver carefully handed one to you. “Here. This should keep you from freezing to death.”

You took it gratefully, cradling it between both of your hands, a satisfied hum leaving your lips when you felt the warmth seeping through your skin . “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Lando said with a cocky grin, but there was a softness in his tone that made your heart flutter.

As the two of you wandered deeper into the market, sipping your hot chocolate and chatting about everything and nothing, the playful banter flowed naturally. It always did with Lando. But even between all the sarcastic comments and dry jokes you could feel something unspoken hanging in the air between you, a tension that had been building for months.

The festive stalls blurred together as you walked, but then something caught your eye. You stopped in front of a small wooden stall, the soft green of mistletoe sprigs hanging from the awning, each tied with delicate red ribbons. You stared at them for a moment longer than you meant to, your stomach doing a little flip as the realization of what mistletoe symbolized hit you.

“You know what they say about mistletoe…” Lando said, his voice suddenly becoming a little quieter, a little softer. He was standing close—closer than usual—and when you looked up, his eyes were fixed on you, not the mistletoe.

Your breath caught, heart racing as you noticed the change in the air between you. Trying to steady yourself, you gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what exactly do they say?”

He took a moment to reply, his gaze still locked on yours. “Apparently, you’re supposed to kiss under it.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The noise of the market, the lights, the people—it all faded into the background. It was just you and Lando, standing there in the middle of the market, the snow falling softly around you.

Your senses where overwhelmed with how close he was now—so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, could see the soft, nervous flicker in his eyes. For a split second, you thought about backing away, about brushing it off with a joke like you always did.

But you didn’t. Instead, you stepped forward, almost closing the space between you. “I guess we should follow tradition then,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the market.

Lando’s eyes flickered to your lips, the desire in his eyes as clear as day before all of sudden his lips found yours. It was soft and tentative at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hands gently cupped your face, pulling you closer as the years of secret longing were finally revealed in his every touch.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and a little dazed, Lando was smiling that familiar smile, the one that never failed to make your heart race. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” he admitted, his voice low and a little nervous.

You smiled back, your heart still hammering loudly in your chest. “Me too.”

Lando let out a breath of relief, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d never work up the nerve.”

His confession coaxed a soft laugh from your lips, your hands resting on his chest. “You, nervous? That’s a first.”

“Only with you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper and eyes holding his heart. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead before readjusting and pulling you into a warm embrace. “I guess we’re not just childhood friends anymore, huh?”

“Guess not,” you whispered back, not trusting your voice as a feeling of warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate or the twinkling lights above.

And as the snow continued to fall gently around you, you remained in Lando’s embrace, your head resting against his chest as you found comfort in the rhythm of his heartbeat. Your eyes followed the sparkling snowflakes and the world around you seemed to slow. With his arms wrapped securely around you, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, like all the chaos and uncertainty that had been swirling in your life had finally come to a halt. You couldn’t help but contently hum as you felt like everything was finally falling into place. The way you fit against him, the warmth you shared despite the cold, and the quiet peace between you told you everything you needed to know.

[bestofmultiverse]

Roses 🥀

Kathryn hahn x fem!florist!reader

A/N: Ive written it pretty drunk so idk what make sense at this point (I'm still pretty drunk)

Week 1

The market buzzed gently with life in the crisp morning air. It was early, the sun just beginning to cast its warm glow over the stalls. Y/N stood at her flower stand, dressed in her favorite comfortable jeans, her hair swept into a messy updo, with a few stray pieces rebelliously escaping the floral clip she’d used.

Vendors greeted each other as they set up their stands, the atmosphere familiar and friendly. Y/N chatted with Darren, the tall young man at the neighboring vegetable stand, who was enthusiastically recounting his latest adventure with his horse, Rhody.

Her attention, however, was soon caught by a sight that made her lose track of Darren’s words. A woman—possibly the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen—was walking through the market. Her long brown hair shimmered under the sunlight, and her radiant smile lit up the space around her. She wore oversized sunglasses, but even from a distance, her presence was magnetic.

Y/N’s breath caught when the woman paused in front of her stand, inspecting the flowers with an appreciative smile. Excusing herself from Darren with a quick word, Y/N approached her, offering one of her own dazzling smiles.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, trying to sound casual.

The woman looked up and returned the greeting with a warm, “Hey.”

“I noticed you’ve been eyeing the white roses,” Y/N said, nodding toward the blooms. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

The woman glanced at the flowers, then back at Y/N, her lips curving into a small smile. “They are,” she admitted.

“They symbolize purity, innocence, and new beginnings,” Y/N explained, her voice light but confident. “They’re one of my personal favorites.”

The woman’s smile deepened, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw the faintest blush on her cheeks. “That feels fitting,” the woman said, her tone thoughtful. “New beginnings, I mean.”

Y/N tilted her head, intrigued. “Good for you,” she said, her own smile bright. “May I ask what it’s about?”

The woman hesitated before slipping off her sunglasses, revealing striking blue eyes that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. She was breathtaking.

“I’m officially divorced,” the woman admitted, her voice tinged with relief. “The good part of that relationship ended a long time ago.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze softening. “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you deserved,” she said sincerely.

The woman laughed softly, the sound like music. “Well, it’s what I’m leaving behind that matters now.” Her eyes sparkled with a playful edge. “You always give life advice with your flowers?”

Y/N chuckled. “Only when I sense it’s needed,” she replied, her voice dropping into a teasing tone. “It’s a bonus that comes free with every bouquet.”

The woman smirked, tilting her head as if sizing Y/N up. “I like that.”

Y/N grinned, reaching for a bouquet of white roses and wrapping them carefully. Before handing it to the woman, she slipped a single red rose into the mix.

The woman raised an eyebrow, her lips curving. “And what does the red rose mean?”

Y/N held the bouquet out to her with a mysterious smile. “I’ll let you know when you come back next week.”

The woman took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s for the briefest moment. “Next week, huh? Confident, aren’t you?”

Y/N shrugged, her grin widening. “Let’s just say I have a good feeling.”

The woman laughed, her smile lingering

"Im y/n by the way"

"Kathryn" the woman said back before she walked away, leaving Y/N standing at her stand, feeling the warmth of the encounter linger long after she was gone.

Week Two

For the next week, Y/N found herself thinking about Kathryn more often than she cared to admit. She could still hear the soft cadence of Kathryn’s laugh, see the way her blue eyes sparkled when she teased her. It wasn’t the first time someone captivating had passed through her little flower stand, but there was something about Kathryn that lingered, an inexplicable pull she couldn’t shake.

By the time Friday rolled around, Y/N had spent an embarrassing amount of time rearranging her display. She told herself it was for the customers—it was spring, after all, and the flowers deserved to shine. But deep down, she knew she was hoping Kathryn might come back, though she had no real reason to expect her.

The morning passed quietly, filled with regulars buying their weekend blooms and Darren chatting her ear off about his horse yet again. But just as she started to convince herself she’d imagined the connection, there Kathryn was.

She walked through the market much the same as before, her stride confident and her hair catching the sunlight. This time, though, her smile seemed a little brighter when her eyes met Y/N’s.

“Hey there, stranger,” Kathryn greeted as she stopped in front of the stand. She was holding a coffee cup, which she raised in a small salute. “Miss me?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, her lips curving into a teasing grin. “Maybe a little,” she said smoothly. “Though I have to say, the roses you picked up last week looked a little lonely without you here to keep them company.”

Kathryn chuckled, setting her coffee down. “Well, I figured I’d stop by and see what you’ve got this time. Thought I might spoil myself again.”

“Good call,” Y/N replied. “Everyone deserves a little indulgence now and then.” She gestured to the display. “What’s the occasion this time? Another new beginning, or are we celebrating something else?”

Kathryn shrugged, her smile turning a little softer. “Maybe I just needed a reason to get out of the house. It’s been a weird week—quiet, but in a good way.”

Y/N nodded, sensing there was more to the story. “Well, I’m glad you came by. I was starting to think I’d scared you off with all my flower wisdom last time.”

“Oh, please,” Kathryn said, rolling her eyes with a playful smirk. “It takes more than that to scare me.” She paused, her gaze flicking over Y/N. “Besides, you’re fun to talk to. It’s nice… refreshing, even.”

Y/N felt a warmth rise in her chest but kept her tone light. “I’ll take that as a compliment. So, what are we feeling today? Bold? Romantic? A little mysterious, maybe?”

Kathryn laughed, leaning closer to the display as she examined the flowers. “You know, I think I’ll let you decide. You seem to have a knack for this.”

“Oh, dangerous move,” Y/N teased, already pulling together a bouquet. This time, she chose a mix of peonies, for healing and prosperity, and lavender, for peace and serenity. She finished it off with a single deep red rose, placing it prominently in the center.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow when she saw it. “You and these red roses,” she mused, her voice warm with amusement. “Are you going to keep me guessing forever, or do I finally get to know what it means?”

Y/N handed her the bouquet with a wink. “Patience, Kathryn. All good things in time.”

Kathryn shook her head, smiling as she tucked the flowers under her arm. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I try,” Y/N said, grinning. “But seriously, if you ever need more flower wisdom—or just someone to talk to—you know where to find me.”

Kathryn hesitated for just a moment, then reached into her bag and pulled out a business card. “Here,” she said, handing it over. “In case I need a private consultation or something.”

Y/N took it, her fingers brushing against Kathryn’s as she did. “Noted,” she said softly, feeling that pull again, stronger this time.

Kathryn lingered a moment longer, her gaze steady but kind. “Thanks for the flowers,” she said, her voice quieter now. “And for… well, just being you.”

“Anytime,” Y/N replied, watching as Kathryn turned and walked away, leaving her with the lingering scent of lavender and the promise of something new.

Week Three

The days that followed Kathryn’s visit felt lighter somehow, as if her presence had left an invisible warmth in its wake. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the little business card sitting on her counter, its edges slightly frayed from where her fingers had traced it absentmindedly.

By midweek, she decided to take a chance. Pulling out her phone, she stared at the number for a moment before typing a quick, casual message:

Hi, it’s Y/N, your personal florist 😊 Just wanted to check in and see how the flowers are holding up!

She stared at the screen for a beat too long, second-guessing herself, but before she could overthink it further, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Hey, Y/N. They’re beautiful, just like last time. You have quite the touch.

Y/N smiled at the response, feeling a little flutter in her chest. She quickly typed back.

Glad to hear that! Let me know when you’re ready for your next bouquet.

Kathryn’s reply came just as fast.

How about tomorrow? I could use a reason to step out again—and maybe some more of your flower wisdom.

Y/N’s heart did a little flip.

Tomorrow it is. Same time as last week?

Perfect.

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the market a little earlier than usual, taking extra care to set up her display. She arranged everything just so, the vibrant colors of tulips, daisies, and roses creating a cheerful splash against the wooden crates.

By the time Kathryn arrived, the market was already bustling. She walked up with her usual confident stride, her hair swept back in a loose braid and a light jacket slung over her shoulders. Y/N couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly she carried herself, a mix of ease and grace that was undeniably magnetic.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kathryn greeted with a smile that instantly brightened the morning.

“Hey, Kathryn,” Y/N replied, her own smile matching the warmth in Kathryn’s voice. “Here for more flower therapy?”

“Something like that,” Kathryn said with a chuckle. She leaned lightly on the counter, her blue eyes twinkling. “I’ve decided I’m going to make this a weekly tradition—though I’m pretty sure I just come for the company at this point.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she kept her composure. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. What are we celebrating this week?”

Kathryn shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “Not sure it’s a celebration, exactly. I’ve been spending a lot of time rediscovering what I like—figuring out who I am outside of that old chapter.”

“Sounds like a celebration to me,” Y/N said, her tone soft but earnest. “Starting fresh is always worth celebrating.”

Kathryn tilted her head, her smile growing. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”

Y/N grinned. “Occupational hazard, I guess. Now, let’s find something that suits this new chapter of yours.”

As she worked, Y/N felt Kathryn’s gaze linger, warm and steady. She chose a bouquet of daisies for simplicity, yellow tulips for cheer, and added a few soft pink carnations for gratitude and admiration. To finish, she tucked in another single red rose, letting it stand out.

Kathryn noticed immediately, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Another red rose, huh? Are you ever going to tell me what they mean?”

Y/N handed over the bouquet with a playful grin. “You know you could just Google it if you really wanted to know.”

Kathryn chuckled, shaking her head. “I could, but where’s the fun in that? Besides,” she added, her voice dipping slightly, “I have a feeling it’s worth the wait.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked down, busying herself with arranging the paper wrapping around the bouquet. “You’re dangerous, Kathryn,” she muttered with a laugh, unable to hide her own growing smile.

Kathryn leaned a little closer, her tone teasing but warm. “You have no idea.”

Y/N handed over the bouquet, their fingers brushing again, and looked up to find Kathryn’s eyes fixed on her, soft but searching.

“Well,” Y/N said, her voice steadier than she felt, “if you ever feel like waiting isn’t your thing, you know where to find me.”

Kathryn’s smile deepened, and she tucked the bouquet close to her chest. “I think I’ll enjoy the suspense for now,” she replied lightly, though her gaze lingered for just a moment longer.

“Thanks for this,” she added as she stepped back, the bouquet in one hand and her coffee in the other. “And for making my mornings a little brighter.”

“Anytime,” Y/N said softly, watching as Kathryn turned and walked away, her braid swaying lightly with each confident step. As the crowd shifted and swallowed her figure, Y/N found herself already looking forward to the next week—and whatever surprises Kathryn might bring.

Week Four

The next week, Y/N found herself waiting for Friday with a kind of nervous energy she hadn’t felt in years. She spent her mornings distracted, her evenings restless, and by the time the day arrived, she could barely focus on her usual tasks.

She tried to tell herself it was just another Friday at the market, but the thought of seeing Kathryn again made her heart race in a way she couldn’t ignore.

The day unfolded much like the previous ones, with the usual flow of customers and Darren’s cheerful chatter in the background. But when Kathryn appeared, weaving her way through the busy market, the whole scene seemed to slow.

She wore a light blue blouse that perfectly complemented her eyes, her hair loose and catching the breeze. She had that same confident stride, but this time, there was something softer about her expression, something warmer.

“Hey there,” Kathryn greeted as she approached the stand, her smile as radiant as ever. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied, her own smile spreading naturally across her face. “You’re right on time, actually. I just got in some new flowers I think you’ll love.”

Kathryn set her coffee cup down on the counter, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “You always know how to make a girl feel special.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “Just doing my job. So, what’s the occasion this time? Let me guess—another step in the new chapter?”

Kathryn tilted her head, her smile turning a little sly. “Actually, I was thinking about starting a whole new story.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of story are we talking about here?”

“The kind where I stop beating around the bush and ask you if you’d like to go out with me,” Kathryn said, her voice calm but her eyes sparkling with something playful, something hopeful.

Y/N blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, are you serious?” she asked, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her surprise.

“Dead serious,” Kathryn replied, leaning lightly against the counter. “I know it’s a bit unconventional, but I figured, why not? You’re charming, you’re kind, and you seem to have this uncanny ability to make me smile every time I see you.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “Wow. I mean, I’m flattered. Really flattered. But I thought I was the one supposed to be smooth here.”

Kathryn laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Don’t worry—you’re still winning in that department.”

Y/N glanced down at the flowers in front of her, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Okay,” she said finally, looking back up at Kathryn. “I’d love to go out with you.”

Kathryn’s smile grew, her eyes lighting up. “Really? I was half-expecting you to turn me down just to keep me guessing.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Y/N teased, her confidence returning. “I’m sure I’ll keep you guessing plenty on the actual date.”

Kathryn laughed again, shaking her head. “I have no doubt, I’ll text you tonight to figure out when we can make this happen.”

“Looking forward to it,” Y/N said softly, her eyes lingering on Kathryn’s.

As Kathryn picked up her coffee and bouquet, she paused, glancing at the flowers Y/N had been arranging. “No red rose this time?” she asked teasingly.

Y/N grinned. “Nope. I’m saving that for the date.”

Kathryn’s laughter filled the space between them, light and warm. “You’re impossible,” she said, but her smile betrayed just how much she enjoyed it.

With a final glance, Kathryn turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing behind the counter with a heart full of anticipation and a grin she couldn’t shake.

And as the market buzzed around her, Y/N found herself already counting down the hours until their next meeting.

Week 5

Y/N sat across from Kathryn in the cozy, candlelit restaurant, the evening stretching out like a perfect melody. Conversation flowed effortlessly, Kathryn’s laughter bubbling over at Y/N’s quick-witted remarks, and Y/N finding herself leaning in closer as the night wore on.

The single red rose, nestled in the center of their table, seemed to glow in the warm light, catching Kathryn’s eye once again. She tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Alright, Y/N,” Kathryn said, her voice soft but teasing. “You promised me no more guessing. Are you finally going to tell me what the red rose means, or are we keeping this a mystery forever?”

Y/N hesitated, her confidence flickering just enough to make her cheeks flush. She reached for the rose, her fingers brushing its delicate petals as she carefully avoided Kathryn’s gaze. “It, uh… it symbolizes love and passion,” she admitted quietly, her usual bravado giving way to something more vulnerable.

Kathryn’s smile widened as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Love and passion, huh?” she echoed, her tone light but her gaze steady. “That’s quite the statement for a first date.”

Y/N chuckled nervously, her cheeks growing even warmer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just… I thought it suited you.”

Kathryn’s laughter was soft and low, a sound that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “You’re sweet,” she said, her voice dipping into something a little huskier. She picked up the rose, twirling it slowly between her fingers as she watched Y/N. “But you know, passion can mean a lot of things.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the subtle shift in Kathryn’s tone. She swallowed hard, her voice coming out a touch more uncertain than she’d intended. “Yeah? Like what?”

Kathryn leaned in just enough to close the distance between them, her blue eyes locked on Y/N’s. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her smile turning sly. “It could mean staying up all night talking… or something else entirely.”

Y/N felt her stomach flip, her mind racing at Kathryn’s implication. She cleared her throat, trying to play it cool despite the blush creeping up her neck. “I guess it depends on the company,” she managed, her voice soft but steady.

Kathryn’s grin widened, and she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from Y/N’s face, the gesture so casual yet so intimate it made Y/N’s breath hitch. “Well,” Kathryn murmured, her tone warm and teasing, “I’d say the company tonight is pretty exceptional.”

Y/N laughed, a nervous but delighted sound, as Kathryn leaned back, her expression softening. “You’re impossible,” Y/N said, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile.

“And yet, you seem to like me anyway,” Kathryn replied with a wink. She placed the rose carefully back on the table, her fingers lingering on the stem for just a moment. “Thank you—for the flowers, for tonight, for… everything.”

Y/N nodded, her smile growing as she mustered her courage. “Anytime. And I mean that.”

Kathryn’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before she stood, her movements graceful and deliberate. She bent down, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek, her lips warm and lingering just enough to make Y/N’s pulse quicken.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Kathryn whispered, her voice low and filled with promise. “And thank you for being… bold.”

As Kathryn walked away, the red rose still resting on the table, Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself. Whatever the future held, one thing was certain: Kathryn was every bit as extraordinary as Y/N had imagined—and then some.

[honkytonk-hangman]

All This Love

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.

Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3

Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.

Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.

Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.

And then he met you.

You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.

You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.

He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 

The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.

Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…

The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.

He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.

This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.

“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.

“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.

“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.

“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.

You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.

“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.

“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.

You turn back to him and smile.

“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.

“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.

“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.

“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.

“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.

“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.

“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.

“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.

“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”

Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.

Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.

You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.

“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.

“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.

“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.

“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.

“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.

“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.

Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.

You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.

Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.

“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.

“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.

You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.

“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.

“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.

“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”

His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.

Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.

The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.

“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.

“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.

You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.

“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.

“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.

“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.

“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.

“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.

“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.

“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.

Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.

Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.

“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.

“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.

“Say goodbye again.”

Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.

When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.

“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.

“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.

“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.

“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.

“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.

Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.

“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.

“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”

“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.

“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.

“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.

“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.

Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.

“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.

“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.

“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”

“–I’m pregnant.”

Jake freezes, and so do you.

“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.

“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.

“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.

Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.

“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.

“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”

“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.

“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.

“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.

“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.

“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”

Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.

“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.

“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.

You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.

“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”

Jake sighs, but nods grimly.

“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Sir!”

Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.

“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.

“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.

“Yeah. We.”

Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.

“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”

Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.

“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.

“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.

“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.

That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.

“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.

“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.

Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.

“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.

“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.

“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.

Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.

“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.

“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.

“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 

He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.

Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.

“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.

The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.

Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.

He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.

“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.

“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.

His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.

“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.

Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.

Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.

“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.

Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.

“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.

“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.

“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.

“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.

“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.

“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.

Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.

“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.

“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.

“No,” he says.

“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.

“Fine. Maybe.”

[10thmusemoon]

I think a lot about yqy, who had no specific attachment to gender, feeling dysphoria the first time he realizes that the women in SJ’s bed at the WRP were delicate with elegant soft features. He spends a night turning a copper mirror every which way, struggling to apply cosmetics with shaking hands when something finally clicks and he thinks to himself “I could never look like that, I could never be what Xiao Jiu wants.”

Maybe the thought lingers long enough to drive yqy to action, to bring him down the mountain and into a brothel where the women look eager to eat up this soft spoken man and show him the ways of the world. Unfortunately that’s not what he wants, instead of seeking the delicate touch of a woman he wants to emulate it. It’s hardly unheard of, they manage all sorts of requests at brothels, and this one is simple enough.

The first time YQY sees himself properly done up, his breath catches in his throat. That is, of course, still his face beneath the white powder and red dots, those are his eyes behind the kohl liner, and yet it’s…softer. In a certain light he could almost be called delicate.

The older woman must recognize something in his expression, the hand at his shoulder gently squeezing and apologizing that they don’t have anything in his size, but if he were to return with enough notice, perhaps something could be arranged.

Yue Qingyuan returns.

Again and again and again.

Each time the spells sinks its hooks into him, a fantasy of a different life where he was a different person, one that Shen Qingqiu could bring himself to touch. Maybe even to love. The feelings that inspires cling to him like the last remnants of summer’s warmth, sparking a small joy that lasts throughout the following days until it flickers out, signaling his return.

It’s a noticeable change in Yue Qingyuan. Disciples and peak lords alike notice his improved mood, an errant An Ding disciple sees him browsing hair pins, the fine silk of women’s robes in a market place and a rumor spreads like wild fire.

The sect leader has lover!

It’s not the first time such a thing has been said, Shen Qingqiu tracks these rumors like a farmer tracks the seasons. Each and every time the claims come up unfounded, and yet…when the recent whispers from chatty hall masters reach his ears he listens. This time around, there’s a marked change in Yue Qingyuan.

An improved mood, yes, but not only that there’s…a distraction.

The sect leader’s visits to Qing Jing Peak grow further and further apart, and when he does dare to show his face it’s always followed by a visit cut short, a distant air to his demeanor. Bile turns in Shen Qingqiu’s stomach, a familiar ache in his chest pounds against his rib cage, begging to be freed. It’s the same jagged toothed creature that would bare its fangs when the likes of Shi Wu would dare call out for Qi-ge’s attention.

Shen Qingqiu did not cut Yue Qingyuan out of his heart just for someone to pick up what he discarded.

This bears investigation.

In the dark recesses of Shen Qingqiu’s mind, he’s conjured up an image of what Yue Qingyuan’s lover would be like. A soft spoken woman from a noble family or humble shopkeeper, a shy thing that inspires love from all the meet her, a paragon of purity and morality that stokes Yue Qingyuan’s bumbling courtship. He would go through the proper channels of course, through her family if she had one, or simply jump straight to providing for her if she did not. Shen Qingqiu can just imagine it, Yue Qingyuan’s sweet little lover hidden away in house that he visits under the cover of night, bringing to her the gifts Shen Qingqiu has been offered but had turned away.

It just riles him up!

That the righteous YQY would sneak around everyone’s backs to defile a hapless woman that doesn’t know better! That he could be hunched over her, rippling muscles over bearing as he whispers confessions of love under the moon light.

The idea of it makes Shen Qingqiu’s heart race and fists clench. It’s simply unacceptable!! That should be-

Yue Qingyuan shouldn’t!

He doesn’t keep his promises!

It is only for the sake of the woman that YQY has duped into being his doe she lover that Shen Qingqiu follows him.

Shen Qingqiu was convinced it would take several attempts to find Yue Qingyuan’s secret abode. Surely his wife would be protected by the strongest talismans and spells available to a sect leader. So when his tracking leads Shen Qingqiu to the red light district of another town, it’s as if the world was turned on its heels.

That righteous bastard!

Yue Qingyuan is no better than any other man!!

White eyes with fury, Shen Qingqiu bursts into the brothel, accusations of hypocrisy on the tip of his tongue. But Instead of finding YQY rutting against a woman like the swine he is he is…

He’s…

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know what he’s looking at.

There’s women screaming and filtering out the door, his sword is brandished but SQQ’s hands have gone numb from the pressure.

Yue Qingyuan is-

He is-

…beautiful.

-

And that’s where I stop!! Happy 9/7 day YQY definitely uses his new found confidence to put the moves on SQQ, with a shakey voice he ask if he likes YQY better like this and SQQ is already stepping close to cup YQY’s face in his hands.

“Explain”

So he does and everything about how wrong SQQ was shakes him to his core because yqy would do this…found this part of himself… in order to be appealing to Shen Qingqiu…

Shen Qingqiu never tells YQY about the lover he had invented (and grown to loathe) in his jealousy, but as he’s giving him the first and most thorough fuck of his life, SQQ makes plans to buy his own secret cabin in the woods.

Just in case.

[cxffecoupx]

snowflakes

yoon jeonghan + holiday shopping dates wc: 846 (got carried away) warnings: just wholesome, romantic winter vibes author's notes: a little late, but i loved writing this so much. for someone who's never experienced a snowfall before, i sure do like the concept a lot... i really hope you all like it <33 winter wonderland masterlist

jeonghan knew he was in trouble when he heard you call him by his full name.

"yoon jeonghan," he heard you speak into your phone through gritted teeth.

oh no, jeonghan thought. not the full government name.

it didn't even take him a full second to sit up straight in his bed. the next second, he rushed to the washroom.

"hey, babe. i'm just getting my jacket on; i'll be there soo-"

"you only just woke up, didn't you?"

he stops right in his tracks, and gulps. then he just chuckles, "eyyy, you know me too well."

he hears you take a deep breath before replying, "i will wait for 10 more minutes. if you're not here by then, i will buy everything myself. have i made myself clear?"

"yes, ma'am."

that's the day jeonghan realised he could get fully ready by six and a half minutes.

after a very (uncomfortably) silent ride to the christmas market, he finally sees you smile watching all the glittery jewelry and ornaments lying around — fairy lights in all shapes and forms, tinsels of different colours, little snowmen with warm, glowing lights in them, wreaths of all sizes. there's a glint in your eyes as you look at them, a sparkle only he can see. and even though you got angry at him in the morning, seeing that smile so faint on your lips makes it all worth it.

just as he gets lost in the beauty of it all, he feels a tug on his jacket sleeve, that turns into a pull so hard he gets yeeted and bumps into a couple of people on the way. before he can mumble a quiet sorry though, you're pulling him into one of the smaller shops on the street. the bells ring to signal your arrival.

after what felt like something around five hours (but honestly, was just two hours; he just likes to exaggerate), you both reach the counter with baskets full of little knick-knacks, from bells and bubbles to fake snow and candy canes. you proudly hand over each filled basket to the cashier while he decides to rest on a nearby bench.

he watches you silently as you stay there, a little hop to your feet even while you're just standing. christmas has always been your favourite holiday: the whole idea of decorating your house and inviting friends and family over, getting together, having warm, homely meals. december only started for him when he sees you bring him a cup of hot chocolate with that childlike smile on your face. and slowly, jeonghan, who'd started getting bored of the monotonous year-ends and holidays, once again started to find the joy of it all.

or maybe it's just because you have that effect on him.

anyways, he shakes his head to get out of his little bubble and sees you call out to him before exiting. just as he starts to walk out, he crashes into your body.

"oof- what happened, love?"

when you don't reply, he bends down to look at your face. he follows your gaze to see a box, and then looks back at you, standing there with a wanting glaze in your pretty, pretty eyes.

"hannie... it's so beautiful..." you say, breathlessly, and lift it up for him to see.

it was a snowglobe.

it had a figurine inside it: a couple sitting on a bench, illuminated by a streetlight beside the bench, and the moon high above. snowflakes floated around the figurine. pretty simple, but it was special.

why? because it was a scene that reminded him of your first date. a date in the park, that was almost cancelled because it started snowing unexpectedly.

"yn... it's the first snow," he'd said, voice just a dreamy whisper through the phone. "you know what they say about the first snow."

"well, my grandmother used to tell me that if you wish upon the first snowflakes, it comes true."

"oh- i... didn't know about that... you know what's the other thing they say about first snow?"

you didn't need anymore convincing.

and so you met, two lovers in the heart of the park, snowflakes floating around you as you looked into each other's eyes. it drifted around and settled on your heads. the giddy smile on your face and the rosy tint on your cheeks only grew bigger as he leaned in to kiss you, a kiss that warmed your insides in a way you could never describe.

he wiped away a snowflake that melted on your cheek. "i love you," he said. "and i'll keep loving you for the many first snows to come."

when jeonghan comes back to the present, the first thing he does is press a kiss to your lips. you smile into it, just like you had that day. buying the snowglobe didn't take any discussion like the rest of the items you bought.

back then, you'd always wished you had something to remember it by. now you believe it's all the snowflakes you wished upon that's swirling in the snowglobe.

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[itsswritten]

shadow violet

Pairing: Fairy x Azriel

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Some fluff between your favourite couple (pre bond snapping)

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Something had brought Azriel to the city that morning, an invisible string pulling on his heart that had himself and his shadows restless. So he found himself walking the hard cobblestone streets of Velaris under the rising sun, its rays shifting through the gaps on the townhouses. His shadows gracefully dancing between the tall dark silhouettes they created on the ground as Azriel walked through the heart of the city.

His hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, black shirt tousled and buttons undone at the top, in a casual way that was fitting for a Sunday and somewhat unusual for him.

Azriel had never been the casual type, not in style, not in persona, nor in actions. However in recent years Azriel had to learn how to adopt a more casual way of living, especially now peace had settled over the land. The highly acclaimed Spymaster and his services weren’t as in demand as they once were. Weekends became a time he could actually indulge in, however the notion quickly became monotonous and well…lonely. The lone Shadowsinger had no one to share this extra time with. 

Azriel would often pick up extra work, begging Rhys to give him some scouting or research mission so he didn’t have to spend another weekend alone. His family were busy now, had their own lives filled with littlings or mates to fuss over, and Azriel would never be the type to express discern. He couldn’t selfishly confess his feelings of isolation, trap his loved ones in guilt when all they were doing was pursuing exactly what the Mother had intended. 

So he carried his woes silently, like he always had.

Azriel was really looking forward to Solstice though. A time he knew he would get with all his family, and of course, you. He couldn’t deny to himself that he was especially looking forward to seeing you.

He hadn’t seen you in some time now, such a dutiful fairy always working hard that only in a few lucky moments, he had managed to catch you in passing. When you were dropping something off for Rhys, swapping a book with Nesta, or the rare night you were able to join him and Mor at Rita’s. He was missing you, and judging by his restless shadows they were missing your company too. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. An addiction that would only be satiated by your presence.

Azriel knew what that meant. He had lived in this world for over 500 years now to understand the feelings that had grown for you, but despite his plethora of worldly experience, being honest about his growing infatuation that had so clearly turned into something more was too hard to confess.

Azriel strided towards the morning market, some stalls still setting up as he felt himself come to a stop. Something physical compelling his steps to halt in their tracks, drawing his attention to turn.

To look elsewhere. 

A pull tugging him towards something– you.

There you were. 

Wind blowing your hair gently in the soft morning breeze while you sat soundly on a bench by the Sidra. Your head rolling to the side, chest breathing deeply.

With quick strides Azriel followed his shadows, who were always quicker than him when it came to you. Flurrying closely around you, they vibrated inches away from your skin but without permission wouldn’t dare touch you in your sleeping state. 

Azriel crouched by your feet, gazing at your soft face, your lips slightly parted as you snoozed. You looked so angelic in the morning light, in any light in fact. In light, in darkness, you were always so beautiful. The effect you had on him, was like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life before.

He scrutinised over you, hands coming down to the bench either side as he was kneeled, his arms caging you in a protective but gentle manner.

Had you been overworking yourself? Azriel questioned, taking in your working garments covered in soil and a large basket by your side that seemed to be filled to the brim, a cotton cloth covering the top. 

He didn’t like the idea of you overworking yourself so much that you’d actually fallen asleep in the city. Despite Velaris being somewhat safe, the idea stirred a fear deep within his gut. You were always taking care of everyone, the meadows, creatures and people that lived on this land, that Azriel for the first time wondered who took care of you.

The notion had him reeling at a possibility that maybe it could be him. That he could be the one so lucky to take care of you. Making sure you got back from your night shifts safe, ensuring you had a nutritious meal at the end of a hard day’s work, indulging in morning lie-ins with you on his plentiful-empty weekends— he was getting carried away.

But the desire remained, he wanted to take care of you.

It was something he fantasised about often, a life with you. If he was ever brave enough to cross that blurred line of friendship you both always seemed to dance along.

Gently he reached up, moving the pieces of your hair that had fallen in front of your face with a soft whisper of your name. His fingers grazing the strands behind your ear, fingertips dusting across the skin of your cheek.

The feather-light touch stirred you, brows furrowing while a soft sleepy noise left your lips. Your eyes fluttered open with a frown.

“Azriel?” You slurred softly in a dreamy state. 

Azriel often appeared in your dreams. Dreams so addictive that at times lulling yourself from slumber for work felt arduous. 

Your fingers moved on their own accord, driven by that sleepy illusion that blurred boundaries. Your hand coming to cup his face, thumb grazing the peak of his cheekbone while your eyes adjusted through their haze. Azriel felt his own lids shut for a moment, indulging in the rare touch you offered him. An intimate gesture that wasn’t always common in your friendship, although over the past couple years, there had been a few soft grazes and touches. Fleeting and secretive, moments that you both locked away for none else to see.

Moments Azriel hoped meant just as much to you as they did to him.

Azriel watched as your lids blinked heavily, the drowsy lull evident in the way your lip rolled into your mouth. Lashes fluttering as you looked down at him in a way he often dreamt about.

He could have stayed in that moment, savoured it for longer. Though, it was the innocence in your touch that stopped him indulging. Reluctantly lifting his hands to yours, his scarred fingers softly wrapping around your wrist that was now caressing his cheek.

In a fleeting moment he pressed the corner of his lips to leave a small kiss on the palm of your hand before pulling it fully away.

“You fell asleep by the river y/n,” he said softly, concern lacing his tone.

“Oh,” you replied confused, a hard frown pressing over your brows as you seemed to adjust to reality. “Oh…my…” you suddenly realised, his words finally waking you as your eyes widened.

“I was…I was waiting for the market to open,” you told him, a rosy flush spreading on your cheeks as Azriel’s soft intimate touch seemed to burn your palm. 

You could still feel the kiss he left on your skin.

For a moment of composure, you quickly glanced over your shoulder, the morning market now bustling as the noise of shopkeepers and sellers drifted down the Sidra.

“Oh stars, I must have fallen asleep while I was waiting,” you huffed with a smile, turning back to look at the beautiful male who was still kneeled by your feet. “I’ve been on the night shift in the meadows.”

“I know,” Azriel replied, his lips pulling a smile in return.

Of course he knew. He always knew everything you were doing. He hadn’t seen you in what felt so long because of your damned shift pattern and he’d been missing you terribly. 

He always missed you, he realised. Maybe it was you he had been missing his whole life.

Azriel had known you for almost two years, a presence that had completely consumed him that the mere thought of you not being in it was enough to make him shiver. Thoughts like these were enough to convince him to confess, but it was the risk of rejection. The risk of ruining the special friendship you had built that trapped him.

Your usual happy tone rang through his thoughts, your sleepiness clearly gone and an excitement spreading across your face. “Actually it’s a good thing you found me...”

Azriel quirked his brow in question.

“I’ve got something for you,” you beamed.

“For me?” His voice cracked.

You nodded sweetly, tapping the space beside you before guiding him from the cobblestones to the bench.

“Now you mustn’t tell anyone about this Azriel,” you warned him with a small bite of your lip, your finger pointing at him.

“I won’t, I swear it” he replied. He’d do anything you asked he realised then, take secrets to the grave, kneel by your feet— anything. 

“Okay,” you had grabbed something from your basket, silk fabric folded on your hand concealing something.

“Have you ever heard of a Shadow Violet Azriel?”

Azriel shook his head, his eyes watching the way your lips formed his name. How your tongue sang the syllables in the sweetest way. He’d never considered his name beautiful, but coming from your lips it sounded heavenly. 

Actually anything you spoke sounded that way.

“It’s a flower that blooms once every millennium, if that” you continued, your tone shifting to one Azriel recognised. A tone he had quickly become enamoured with whenever you went off on a spiel about nature, or meadows, or animals.

“It’s only small, one might miss it if you don’t know where to look.” You shifted closer to the Shadowsinger, eyes glancing up as you continued. “It’s a flower that blooms in the shadows. Flourishes and grows to become its own source of light even in the darkest crevices of the forest.”

Azriel listened intently.

“It’s so magical and marvellous Azriel, and last night...” you leaned in closer, your words coming to a hush.

Azriel’s heart skipped a beat.

“I found one.”

Azriel watched as you carefully unfolded the soft fabric to reveal a beautiful flower. It’s petals an iridescent sapphire that glowed in the morning  light. A glow, that Azriel felt resembled something of you. A radiance that he could only compare to the female sat next to him.

And even though he made that comparison himself, found it so easy to make the connection between a flower and someone he found beautiful, what left your lips next struck deep within his chest.

“And when I saw it Azriel, I thought of you. A flower blooming in the shadows…a source of light, even in the darkest corners. Even in the most crowdest rooms, with the dimmest faelights I always find you, your light always reaches me…” your words drifted off, the sentence had just rolled off your tongue like honey before you noticed how under every letter there was some kind of unspoken confession.

Azriel felt his breathing falter for a moment, your eyes connecting with his as the silence between you seemed to speak of so much. You looked so vulnerable to him in that moment, that had him thinking of the first moment he met you. That night in Rita’s when you’d gotten all flustered after meeting all of them.

Azriel breathed your name. 

With haste you stood, folding the silk over the flower and pushing it into Azriel’s hands. A vibration hazing over his skin at the touch. 

“Anyway, I wanted you to have it.” Space was put between you both quickly, and Azriel watched as you seemed to brush the moment off with humour, “Just don’t let the fairy council know you have it, they’ll be really annoyed with me that I haven’t taken it to the archives.”

Azriel blinked.

You grabbed your basket “I must go, I need to exchange some bits at the market before getting some sleep.”

Azriel stood in a flurry then, watching as you began to walk away. Calling out your name, you stopped, glancing over your shoulder to look at him.

“You’re joining us for Solstice right?”

Your smile stretched to your eyes, cheeks rosy as your head bobbed a quick nod “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’ll see you then,” Azriel smiled.

You smiled back, your hand stretching a soft wave before you hurried up the market. 

Azriel watched till he could know longer see you, his shadows whispering about the stall you had headed to.

He looked down then, taking another look at the flower wrapped in silk between his hands. A symbolic version of him, a version of him you had seen. Something no one else had ever compared him to.

No one had considered him equal to something so beautiful. It was that moment he decided.

At Solstice he would confess his love for you.

a/n: Oh hey strangers...sorry I've been so mia! I guess this is what having a big girl job is actually like :( I miss writing so so much, and miss these characters and worlds. I just sadly don't have the mental capacity to write as much as I did. That being said, if you're still lingering around I hope you enjoy this little installment. Please ignore any grammar mistakes, like I said I haven't been able to write in a while and I can really tell, so this is not my best work. But I thought posting was better than nothing! <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

Wings tags: @minaethrym

[siggiedraws]

What’s your thoughts on idw silver, I personally think he is ok but I feel like the idw comic didn’t really do very well with his character.

I can't say I like him... at all.

American Sonic media already has a history of needless and quite frankly terrible changes, whether made out of ignorance, xenophobia towards Sonic Team/SoJ, some vague, made-up sense of marketability, or all three. So, I'm already wary of media like that. They always change fundamental aspects of Sonic's appeal and are supremely unenjoyable to me as a result.

To stay on track here - why do I dislike IDW Silver? The main reason is that I think he's portrayed as way too polite and nice to people. He has no backbone. It's as if he was just based off of popular fanon or Archie comics, rather than the source material. I don't blame anyone for thinking Silver is some timid, polite sweetheart if fanon and IDW/Archie is all they have consumed, but I'm doing my best to dispel that notion for the sake of conquering misinformation. As a casual fan, it is understandable to have misconceptions, but I'm going to be much more harsh to official media.

I need to hammer home the fact that Silver is rude and often talks down to people. Sonic '06, Silver's debut game, showcases this very well. In an '06 cutscene, he talks down to Sonic after attacking him when his guard was down. The casual stride over to a wheezing, incapacitated Sonic kills me. The disrespect is fucking crazy.

In the level Flame Core, he acts haughty and superior about his abilities, even letting out a light chuckle at how pathetic the enemies are. And, a detail that is easy to miss, he doesn't even apologize for trying to kill Sonic.

That's not even mentioning the Rivals games being a wonderful source of Rude Silver™, where there are too many snide remarks to count.

IDW Silver is a telltale case of Silver's nuance being stripped so that he only represents one trait of his- that trait being "naivety." Silver's naivety is mentioned twice by Blaze in Sonic '06 because this is relevant to the story. Naivety is Silver's fatal flaw that leads to him being easily manipulated by Mephiles. However, his naivety isn't due to some innocent, childlike outlook on the world. Silver takes everyone at face value and always assumes people are telling the truth to him due to a lack of social skills. This is why, when Silver mentions something outlandish or unbelievable to people, he is confused why they don't believe him. This is shown in both Rivals 2 and the Sonic x Silver wallpaper cover story.

IDW seems to completely miss this nuance and conflates "naivety" with childlikeness and innocence. When you realize this, decisions put towards Silver's characterization in IDW makes a lot of sense - his hyperactive excitement and adulation over Whisper is a good example, but how he doesn't talk back to Sonic calling him "flatware" in Issue 8 particularly bothers me.

Realistically, Sonic would immediately get thrown into a wall if he said this to Silver.

Portrayals like IDW Silver are just so utterly confusing. How in the world does Silver get misconstrued this way, into something entirely opposite of what he is, in both fanon and official media? To be completely honest, it makes me frustrated. I want things to change and I feel like I have to speak up. I ended up writing an essay about Why Silver is Rude. I'm sorry anon.

[brineoffire]

Part 1 of that hybrid au i was talking about yall! Warnings for hints of non-con, canon typical violence, slavery.

You are a rare type of dragon, sought after by many people, especially criminals. When one finally gets his hands on you your life is run by him completely, until he finds himself in the firing line of task force 141.

You sit on a plush armchair in the center of the room, your legs draped over one of the armrests and your wings spread out over the other, webbed ends resting on the floor. You're reclined with your head tilted back, your neck exposed and showing off the studded leather collar sitting there, metal detailing glinting under the spotlight. 

Staring at the ceiling has been your go to these days, especially when Alphonso, your owner of over eight years now, insisted on you being splayed out when he had guests. You hear a sharp whistle and your pointed ears flick towards the sound, eyes following soon after, meeting Alphonso's from the entrance to the dining room. Taking the cue you pull yourself up to sit on the armrest and spread your wings, the fur over their tops ruffling up as you stretch your arms over your head, your back arching to show them off to the people that stream in behind him. With your chin tilted up you watch him, just as he taught you to. Your eyes track each one who dares to meet your gaze, the light glinting off them menacingly. 

He's speaking to them with his usual confidence, his charm oozing off of him in waves. It never ceases to disgust you, the fakeness of it all. You've seen him behind closed doors. When all the business is over and the man's psychopathic tendencies override his charisma. Behind you your tail slides over the opposite arm rest, its furred end flicking as you play your part. An over glorified guard dog. A trophy to be shined and put on display. 

Dragons are already one of the more unique beings found in the world of monsters and men and you being half furred half scaled has left you in an even smaller category. One that had you straight through the black market as soon as you turned eighteen, your parents unable to deny the amount of money they were offered nor the threats on their lives when you were with them. You hardly remember them at this point, not like you'd care to either way. They always thought it was too dangerous to let you out of the house too often, always making sure to keep you close when they did. They were right of course, but in the eyes of a child, a cage was a cage, no matter the necessity.

Now here you sit, glaring out at the people behind your master, muscles visibly tense and coiled tightly. It's part of your duty to protect Alphonso, and with all the conditioning he's put you through you make damn sure to be perfect at it. There are armed guards stationed around the room, but you're meant to be faster than them. You're meant to look prettier too, meaning you'll be punished if you don't protect him and if you're injured too badly.

He finishes whatever loud speech he was giving and the crowd slowly files into the tables around you. Turning to you he smiles sweetly and his steps echo louder than anyone else's. His guests are still filing in as he takes his seat, your tail snaking around the back of his shoulders and flicking over his lap. You hear him give you a hum of approval as he leans back in the seat.

As always his hand slides up your neck, fingers grazing your collar as he tugs lightly at the chains on your muzzle. The one you wear today is a sparkly thing. Gold chains held together with leather straps, a set of gems glittering over the bridge of the nose and over your cheeks. He rests his elbow on your thigh, his hand lightly gripping the chain that links your collar to the muzzle and waits for everyone to enter.

You keep on your guard, scanning the crowd until you smell something odd. Alphonso's guests are usually a mix of humans, magic users, and monsters. Of the monsters he hosts it's usually undead types, shifters, and vampires but today is different. Today one of the scents is masked, it's not enough to throw off your nose though. Somewhere in the room is another dragon, and you know, for a fact, that Alphonso knows no other dragons.

You scan the room carefully, you know Alphonso would be more upset that you didn't catch them at the door, so you just keep watch. Whatever spell they are under is good, most likely casted with very expensive materials, but even with such good quality you slowly pick through the most likely suspects. There ends up being three separate tables with a few separate people.

One woman who sits in a back corner, a dark gown with expensive shifter furs around her neck and shoulders. A taller man sitting next to a large, muscular woman both wearing the exact same suits. Then there's another tall man sitting with a dark skinned harpy man, simple dark suits adorned with fine jewelry and detailing. Your eyes scan over them cautiously, making sure to memorize their details as you watch. Raising the alarm now would only end in more trouble than it's worth, so for now you keep quiet and keep the three tables in check. 

Once everyone is seated a pair of Alphonso's chefs come out, bringing him a small table with tonight's dinner. He takes his time looking over it with a wide grin before nodding to the chefs. At his approval the pair leave once again a group of waiters filing in to deliver the same plates to the rest of his guests. You watch them as they work, taking their distraction to stare at the tables you noted. As the lone woman gets her food you notice one of the chefs specifically gives her a special flute of wine. She raises the glass in Alphonso's direction and he nods to her. 

The remaining two tables are treated normally so you watch the table with the man and woman first. You note that they spend their time speaking quietly, completely ignoring the plates they are given. Only the glasses of champagne they have refilled again are touched at all. Watching them speak you realize there are sharp fangs where canines would be. These two are vampires which means only the last table with the man and the harpy is left.

You look over to the last of the three tables watching  the man and harpy thank the staff for their food. Manners among Alphonse's company is already out of place, but definitely not a sign of hostility. Watching them talk to each other you can't help but stare at the harpy. His wings are a marble of several different browns and blacks, the darker colors reflecting with a slightly red tint. Watching him speak your trail, your eye's over his sharp jawline, lingering on soft looking lips before you switch your attention.

When you finally set your sights on the other man, you catch his eyes immediately. He had been watching you as your eyes wandered over the harpy. Keeping eye contact with him is easy, you tilt your head up slightly, a show of acknowledgement, but you exhale a small breath of heat. It's a nearly invisible wave of steam that rolls over your parted lips and through the bars of your muzzle. It's a dragon's warning, one you know he can see clearly. One that tells him you see exactly what he is and that you're standing your ground.

Surprisingly, he lowers his head in a quick bow, acknowledging your territory. Normally the people that try any assault are either full of fear or boiling anger. You take in his face for a moment longer, memorizing the facial hair over his jaw, the almost permanent furrow of his brow, and the way his dark eyes hold your gaze without malice. When he breaks eye contact you watch him turn to the harpy and exchange a few words.

You barely hear over the murmur of the crowd, though you're sure he chuckles. As they finish talking the harpy's dark eyes slide over to meet yours. Soft and dark much like his companion's. Though from this distance your eyes still catch the slivers of gold that run through them. You can't help but tilt your head curiously at the view which brings a smile to his lips. At that you break your stare to continue scanning the rest of the room as Alphonso eats behind you. The two men exchange glances again but you don't notice, keeping your focus on your duties now that you've examined them.

A hand trails over the strip of fur over the top of your tail and you glance over your shoulder. Alphonso is giving you a pleased smirk as he leans back in his seat. He tugs your tail back roughly, pulling you into his lap. You've already expected it, your wings spreading out over the opposite arm rest to catch yourself slightly as you settle on his lap, eyes trained on his face. 

“That's my boy. Good.” He says with a charming grin as his hands settle on your knees and the back of your neck. His fingers fiddle idly with your collar, trailing over it as he watches his crowd. You've always hated when he got like this. Always wanted to pull away from his touches because you know for him it's just a display of ownership. He's drilled it into your head to keep still for him so he can show you off. Show off how he owns you completely.