#youre telling me i could do that all the time forever and once in a while i lose my guts or whatever?? i can SO do that

[hischierjustscored]

accidentally yours.・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again 🥺 i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end 🧡

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratchin on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.5k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

But you couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, your lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled follwed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. And what you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking. Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off completly.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours. Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"I'm glad you do, we just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head.

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. Getting out his head like Jack said with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget fot the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she said, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him eiter. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to except for him.

A moment, A pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

I wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, the one that always told him you had him figured out when when he told you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm,"Can you at least pretend to fall for it?" just to get stuck in his throat.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back before he knows. He shifted again, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

But Jack was wrong.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he thinks already but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, shifing again.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", ignoring the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was Jack and Luke. Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Right? Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers. He wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And if with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes"

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind. Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something, because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together,

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighinh as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Your record,” she rambled on, not getting the memo, "it was… kinda mysterious.”

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you just leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though, so like I said, all mysterious."

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away. How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here,

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he hesistated, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being a good or person, or the simple fact that he was your emergency contact.

You needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them.

"What do you want me to say? You're the one who put my name down I didn't even knew until now or let you bolt out of here with an concussion like they told me?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

"Well, neither was I, and I'm fine", you muttered fixing you gaze on the sterile floor instead, on anything but the way how he was fixing you, "but let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time. and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved", it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

[mercy-burning]

Here We’re In Love (Apricity)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Summary: Spencer teaches you why he's become so fond of your mornings together. Category: Fluff (who am I) Content: Domestic fluff, a light dusting of erotic tension but nothing explicit, the first "I love you", happy tears Word Count: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

(AKA Mercy learned a new word and got The Feels, so she had to plug it into a fic. Obviously.)

----------------------------

There was once a time in Spencer's life when being in bed didn't generate a strong feeling of any kind. It was simply a task needed to end the day and transition into another, a means to an end, and least of all a luxury; Even when he was a child, responsibility outranked reveling in the comfort of a warm bed.

These days, though, it seems like all he wants to do is be in bed. Not because he feels depressed or exhausted in any extreme, but it's hard for him not to ache for an entire day spent solely enveloped in the warm embrace of linen, made even warmer by your presence. Since you've been with him, it brings something so normal and safe amongst the chaos of his daily life—not just in bed of course, but especially in bed. Especially in the mornings. It has quickly become his favorite part of the day, and he finds himself never wanting it to end.

His eyes open to find you already awake before sunrise, staring at him like he always gets caught staring at you. You try to remain still and calm, but the minute cinch in your expression tells him that you're probably chanting Ha-Ha! Got you! on repeat in your head, and the thought makes him huff a laugh.

"What's so funny?" you ask seriously.

Spencer's smile remains as he shifts, close enough to touch his forehead to your own. "Absolutely nothing."

"You've always been a terrible liar."

"I don't know what you mean."

The giggles between the two of you steadily increase with every sentence, until your laughs turn into lazy kisses and then to sighs.

Sunlight eventually breaches the shades, signaling a different type of warmth and the start of a new day, and Spencer selfishly begs it not to be so, his hands reaching for you as you try to escape the bed.

"Stay," he groans, successfully keeping you next to him. "You don't have anywhere to be today, and neither do I..."

Bringing one of his hands to your lips, you laugh. "I know... But I don't want to spend all day in bed..."

"Then we won't... Just a few more hours?"

Your laugh this time is a full-blown cackle. The sound makes his heart soar. "Hours?"

"Yes, hours... This is the most comfortable place in the whole world. Don't you think that deserves hours of your time?"

"I suppose..." Snuggling back into the covers and adoringly rolling your eyes as your head hits the pillow once more, you've finally succumbed to your boyfriend's charms, a feat that feeds his silly pride and also warms him to the core.

You tell him you won't fall asleep and demand him to follow suit, to which he happily agrees, and then you're talking him through your plans for the day. Your voice is just as strong of a comfort as your touch, every syllable bright and soft, and certainly more pleasant than the incessant chirping of birds that some people seem to find soothing first thing in the morning for one reason or another.

As you talk to him, Spencer feels like he's sinking further into the mattress, like your voice and your smile and your fingers absentmindedly trailing the veins of his arms as you speak are casting him into an inescapable state of magnificent solitude.

He'd begged you for hours, but the unexaggerated truth is that he could stay like this forever.

Sensing the trance you seem to have put him under, you pause and tilt your head to study him. Still, your fingers stay true to their wanderlust and dance along the surface of his skin like it's second nature.

"You're looking at me funny."

"Hmm?"

Even as he raises an eyebrow, acknowledging you acknowledging him, it's like he can't be bothered to care. The dreamy haze in his eyes as it bores into you is a comfort in itself, but it's also very... tingle-inducing.

A familiar blaze heats your insides and every surface of your skin, and even without so much as a suggestive hum from him, you still find yourself shying away. "Stop it!"

You half-expect him to argue that he's not doing anything wrong in that cheeky way of his, but he remains silent and thoughtful, studying you carefully.

"Are you familiar with the concept of 'apricity'?"

Usually when he teaches you new things, he isn't staring at you like that. His voice isn't quiet and wistful and teetering on the edge of melancholy.

Unsure of what to make of it all, you shake your head. "No..."

"The word itself comes from the early 1600s. It's archaic, but the feeling is quite beautiful, and relevant to many people whether they know it or not. Apricity defines the feeling of the sun's natural warmth in the cold, usually harsh, winter."

You consider this, and try the word on your tongue, repeating it slowly and nodding. A small smile forms on your lips. "I like it. I guess it's nice to know that oddly-specific feeling has a name..."

Spencer hums and grabs your hand. "You have no idea..."

You laugh softly again. "No, I don't... Enlighten me?"

He considers this for a moment, then smiles, pulling you close to him. "That's just it— You enlighten my very existence. Just by being here in this bed with me."

As he attacks your neck with kisses, you can't help the string of laughter that escapes you. "Oh really?"

"Absolutely." The word is a confident rumble into your skin that soaks through, straight from his lips and down into to the depths of your soul and beyond. It erases any doubt you've ever harbored, lifts you into the light, and manifests as its own form of sunshine, settled right in the nooks and crannies of your heart.

Spencer pulls away briefly to look at you, taking your head in his gentle hands. His voice is soft, but firm.

"I guess what I mean is that... My life can be really dark and frigid a lot of the time... But ever since I've known you, it's like those moments aren't really so terrible anymore, because I know what true, natural love feels like. When I'm here, with you, I truly believe that nothing can hurt me. All I feel is warmth. Your warmth... You're my apricity."

An involuntary pout accompanies your wide, watering eyes as you lean into his touch, a tightness at your throat even as you try to tell him the easiest thing in the world.

"I love you," you manage to get out through a sob. It sounds utterly lame in comparison to the poetic metaphor he's just confessed to you, but given the fact that it's the first time the words have left your mouth, they seem to have the same effect on him regardless.

Spencer matches your pout and the two of you are drawn together like a summer thunderstorm— boldly, brightly, and full of life. The tears fall between you in a heap of pouring rain, but there's nothing gloomy in the love that carries you through it.

"I love you, too," he whispers, pulling away for a moment.

You kiss him again, then tell him, "I never want to leave this bed."

He kisses you and laughs, wiping away your tears as you both fall back, head to the pillows once more.

"I'm not going to fight you on that one."

You say it's fine if it's all in my mind Oh, you look so real but it feels like a lie, so

Don't pinch me in case I'm asleep In case you're not here 'cause this is a dream And we've never met so we're not in love In case I'm asleep, don't pull the–

Don't touch me, this coma is nice Too good to be true, so just let me lie Down in the sheets, 'cause here we're in love In case I'm asleep, don't pull the-

Plug Oh-oh-oh

--Pull The Plug, Ashe

[1-800-adore-me]

| "Did I do good, honey?"

🍎 nsfw warning (18+) + tags: baby fever Caleb, dirty talk, inappropriate usage of evol abilities, edging (Caleb to you), fingering, cunninglingus, praise kink, pet names (pipsqueak, princess, baby girl, sweetheart, honey…), squirting, biting, grinding  ( porn without plot | words: around 3.9k ) (AN: caleb would totally be into the fantasy of breeding you and having loving baby making sex. unfortunately no breeding for this fic but hopefully for the next one <3 caleb is just having his boydinner)

After Caleb finally confirmed his availability to hang out with you for the day, you decided that you wanted to try out a cafe with him. You told him that Tara mentioned it having the “most tastiest” lattes that Linkon had to offer and the pastries were to die for. Considering how excited you looked when you were telling him this, how could he ever say no to those giant puppy eyes of yours? 

When you both arrived at the cafe, it was bustling with business. There was a line of people waiting outside of the cafe and there was a sense of apprehension coming from you. Are we going to wait forever? Should we just head back? I don’t want Caleb to feel like he’s wasting time waiting with me here…

As if he could sense your apprehension, Caleb patted your head with that soft smile that you were oh so familiar with. “It seems busy but hey, I wouldn’t mind waiting in line so long as this pipsqueak here can.” He’d chuckle, a delicate sound that was sent straight to your heart. “Don’t tell me that you’re so hungry that you can’t wait in line, hm?”

You frowned and playfully hit his arm. “As if! Come on, let’s hurry up before more people crowd up and take our spots then!” 

Even though you were smaller than him, the amount of strength that you had when you grabbed his hand and dragged him to the line was akin to a thousand men. He let out an amused chuckle as he allowed you to do so, taking in any opportunity to feel your skin on his. The way your fingers locked perfectly with his made his heart flutter as it made him think back to the olden days where you were so clingy and needy for him to the point where you begged him to take you everywhere he went. 

After waiting in line for what felt like hours, the both of you finally arrived inside the cafe. It had an inviting and warm atmosphere that quickly dissolved any sense of frustration building up inside of you. Once it was finally Caleb’s and your turn to order, you both decided on 2 slices of apple pie and 2 lattes. After the both of you had gotten your orders, you decided to head out. The inside of the cafe, although it looked cozy and sweet to relax in, was beginning to feel cramped with the amount of people endlessly pouring in. The original plan included the both of you spending the afternoon there but considering that it was only going to get busier, perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to linger long. After a quick discussion, it was a better idea to just head back home for the day and watch movies as you enjoy your treats. Although it sounded mundane, today felt like a good day to be lazy. 

Suddenly, a young girl grabbed the hem of your skirt. You looked down at her with a confused expression on your face, yet you held a warm smile towards her. Caleb stopped in his tracks, offering the small girl the same expression as well. 

“Hello there, little one! Did you need something from me?” You say, now turning around to fully face her as you crouched down to her height. Her warm brown eyes observed your face for a moment, her fingers twiddling with each other. She seemed quite shy. 

She hesitated before she spoke. “Miss… What do you have there? I saw that you ordered something that looked yummy but I don’t know what it is. Can you tell me?” Her eyes averted from yours for a moment before focusing them on you again as she pointed at the bag held in Caleb’s hand. 

You let out a soft chuckle, as if her question was something peculiar. All of this nervousness to ask you what kind of goodies you bought? You patted her head as if to reassure her that she could relax around you. By magic, you could feel her shoulders relaxing. 

“Well, why don’t I show you instead?” You say as you rummaged through the paper bag that Caleb was holding in his hand and showed her a box of 1 apple slice inside. “It’s an apple pie! This kind mister and I used to eat a lot of these when we were little like you and we heard that this cafe makes really good pies!” You handed it to her as she hesitantly accepted it - although confusion was written on her face. “Why don’t you have my slice then? We bought 2 so I can always share the other slice with him!”

The young girl’s eyes suddenly widened as her expression brightened up. She looked down at the box you just gave her and let out an adorable chuckle. “Are you sure, miss? I don’t want to take away your food!”

You furiously shook your head as you quickly got up. “Don’t fret about it! Like I said, I can just share with this mister right here!” You tapped Caleb’s chest, earning yourself a soft laughter from him. “You wouldn’t mind at all, right?” He looks at her and smiles, nodding. 

“You heard her! Don’t worry about us, little missy!” He’d pat her head as well before looking at you. “Should we head on then? I don’t want our pie to get cold if we take too long to go back home.” Although there was his usual gentleness in his tone, there was something off - as if he was in a rush. You raised an eyebrow at him but thought nothing of it. You were also anticipating spending the day with him after all. Perhaps he felt the same way. 

Both of you waved at the younger girl as you walked away. She shouted an adorable ‘Thank you!’ before she scurried away to find her parents. Caleb’s eyes lingered on the both of you for a moment before returning his attention on you. But something was different about his expression. He looked like he was distracted by something. You snapped your fingers in front of him in order to catch his attention. 

“Are you okay, Caleb? Distracted by something?” You said, giving him a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me that you’re upset that you have to share with me. If you really want to, we can head back to the cafe and wait another 200 years so you don’t get grumpy!” 

He laughed - his familiar, comforting gaze now on you. “Oh, pipsqueak. If we waited any longer in there, I might’ve had to hold you back from stealing the pastries and running off! Trust me, I don’t mind sharing with you at all. After all, didn’t I use to share all of my pie slices with you when we were younger? Gran would scold me all the time, saying that I shouldn’t give you everything I had!”

The two of you exchanged comforting nostalgic memories as you continued your way back home. Yet, you would notice that there was still a distracted expression on his face. Did I say something wrong? Did I upset him? You decided that you would ask him about it later. Right now, you just enjoyed the playful dynamic that you had going on with him. 

When the both of you finally reached home, he set the bag down on the table as you grabbed the blankets and pillows needed for the evening’s session. After you both changed into your comfortable homebody outfits, you snuggled against his broad chest as he put an arm around you. The television was playing some romcom movie that you two thought sounded interesting - although, your attention was directed towards something else other than the screen. 

“Caleb?” You gently called his attention. His eyes immediately turned from the screen to you. 

“Hm? What is it, pipsqueak?” He replied in a gentle tone, matching yours. 

“What’s been bothering you?” Your eyebrows lightly knitted together. “Ever since the cafe, you seem… distracted. Did something happen?” You put a hand on his cheek and he laid his own hand on yours, deepening the skinship. He turned his face into your hand and smiled into it, laying a brief kiss on you. 

He gave a small hum. “I had an interesting thought, that’s all.” His tone was more playful now as he couldn’t help holding back that teasing grin he always had. 

You let out a groan, although it was a much more exaggerated one. “Tell me now! What is it that’s bothering you? Is it something that I can help with?” 

His eyes slightly averted from yours for a moment before focusing his gaze on your body - then onto your eyes again. Something changed in his eyes - something more akin to hunger. He laid another kiss on your fingers, then onto the back of your hand. 

“You were being so kind to that little girl… You’re so gentle when you talk to kids. Makes me want to give you one.” He whispered ever so gently as he snaked his hand underneath the blankets and laid it on your stomach. He rubbed tiny circles around as he laughed. 

“You would be good, wouldn’t you? I think about it sometimes… Me coming home to a tiny little you running around the house, causing a ruckus as we all laugh together.” His face inched closer to yours and that’s when you realized how hot your cheeks felt at the implications he was getting at. His beautiful, gorgeous eyes were intense to look into and you looked away for a moment, feeling like you would get lost in them if you stared for too long. 

He didn’t stop talking. He continued with that low, husky voice of his now as his hands began travelling lower. “Wouldn’t you agree? Wouldn’t you like being pregnant with my baby? I’ll give you one, yeah? I know that you get lonely sometimes when I’m off on a mission so… I’ll give you a baby, hm? How does that sound, honey?” The only reason why he stopped talking was because his lips were busy on your neck, kissing and suckling on your soft skin. You let out a soft moan as you tilted your neck, granting him more access to it. 

“Remember when we were kids and you said you wanted a big family when you grew up? 4 or more kids so they could all be friends with each other?” He was now licking your collarbones as he watched colorful bruises start to form on your skin. “You still want 4 babies, hm? I can give them to you if you’d like, yeah?”

Caleb’s naughty hands now dug past the hem of your shorts and his long, rugged fingers began rubbing your entrance through your panties. You could already feel yourself getting damp from the quick contact of his digits. Then he began rubbing your already hard clit with his thumb. Your clit, in response, was pulsing against his large digit. 

“C-Caleb…! Aaah…!” You let out a breathy sigh. You grabbed his face and began kissing him now - locking your mouths together as you allowed your tongue to explore his. There was a sweet and bitter taste in his mouth as he had just recently drank his latte while the both of you were watching the movie. With his other hand that wasn’t busy pleasing you, he put it behind your head to deepen your kiss. Obscene noises of wet moans filled the room and it was the only thing that you could hear in your ears. Whatever was playing on the screen now was just background noises that you couldn’t even bother giving your attention to anymore. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel everything that was happening. 

Your panties were getting damper and damper by the second, the fabric getting thinner and transparent now because of your slick. His gentle touches in contrast to how ferociously he was making out with you sent butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t hold back a moan into his mouth, which made him grin. 

“Caleb, please…! Touch me more!” You begged him as you broke away from his lips. A thin strand of saliva was the only connection from your separation and you held back the urge to lick your lips - lest you’d lose the only thing keeping you both together. His lips were wet and bruised and so were yours. You took off your panties, discarding them somewhere in the room. “Put your fingers inside, please! I need you right now, I need you so much!” 

His breath hitched. His eyes were looking everywhere at you now, drinking in your desperation. Then, he chuckled - a sound that was rich and deep. “But should I?” He said, now taking away his hand from your wet and aching sex. “What if I don’t, hm? I’m the only one who can satisfy you, my love.” He licked one of his fingers that was covered in your slick. “And if I can’t satisfy you… are you going to cry? I can just leave you like this and walk away.” He’d chuckle. 

As if he said something offensive, you jumped onto his lap and began grinding on his propped up knee. You didn’t care if your wet slick dirtied his pants, you needed to relieve your throbbing or else you’d go insane. When you soon realized that it wasn’t enough, you forcefully grabbed the hand that was pleasuring you and moved it back to your cunt. Then, you began grinding on it as well. The soft flesh of his hands felt better than his pants, you believe. 

“Can’t you see how much I need you, Caleb?” You pleaded as you tried to entice something out of him with your pathetic cries.. “I’ve… I’ve always needed you. I need you in my life, Caleb. You’re the only one who can satisfy me. Please? Please?” You now leaned forward and began kissing his neck, mimicking what he did to you earlier. He let out a satisfied sigh as he tilted his neck, which you began nipping and suckling at. The wet sounds of your kisses and his pleased sighs made your head swirl. 

“When did you learn how to get so naughty, hm? Was it because of me?” Just when you thought your pleas fell on deaf ears, you felt one of his fingers enter you. You were so wet that his fingers could easily allow themselves in without resistance. You let out a breathy moan next to his ear as you felt another finger slip itself in. 

As his fingers fucked you, his other hand started to rub your clit as well. Overwhelmed by the stimulation of having both your hole and your bundle of nerves being pleasured, your hips began trying to move away. But just when you tried to move around, the gravity around you forced you to keep still. 

- Caleb’s evol, you quickly realized. 

You let out a frustrated and quiet sob as you were now being tortured with how good it felt. It was overwhelming, painful, and oh so good at the same time. Tears began falling from your eyes as the only thing you could do was continue holding onto him and moan pitifully into his ear. You could feel more slick travel down your thighs as he continued ravishing you with no hint of stopping. He licked your tears away and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, cooing you as he slipped in a third finger. Even though you were dripping with wet slick, the intrusion of a third finger began feeling like it was too much. You let out a choked moan as you wept. 

“N-No more, Caleb. It’s too much- I’m too full…!” You pleaded. 

He gently shushed you as he nibbled on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, honey. You’re taking my fingers so well. Do you like them that much, princess? You like it when I fuck you so hard that you can do nothing but cry?” You hear him chuckle as he holds you closer to him. “You were always a crybaby, my love. I wonder if our baby will be a crybaby like you too?” 

The image of you being big and round with his child was enough to send you over the moon. You could feel your thighs shaking as you prepared to release yourself onto his hands. You could feel the buildup of your climax getting bigger in your abdomen and just when you could feel yourself cum, you couldn’t. 

Because he took his hands away. 

“Ah- wha-!” You cried out as your climax was disturbed. Your frustrated and aching cunt throbbed at the absence of his long fingers. Caleb released his evol and you collapsed onto him, your knees weak from the sudden introduction of gravity again. He held you tightly against his chest as he laid another kiss on your forehead. Then, he set you down on the sofa with you laying down on your back. Dazed and frustrated from your lack of climax, you allowed him to move you however he’d like. You were suddenly aware of how huge and wide his sofa was.

Caleb looked at you with an innocent smile on his face. “I suddenly had a thought that maybe I was being too mean to you if I just made you cum on my fingers. I mean, wouldn’t you much rather prefer to cum in my mouth instead, honey?” 

He spread your legs open with his hands, revealing the tasteful fruit that he couldn’t wait to consume. He went down to your cunt, smelling the musky aromatic smell as he observed your abused pussy. Your poor, swelled up clit was throbbing at how close his breath felt and your entrance that was soaked in your mouth-watering slick was shining beautifully from the sunlight cascading on you from the window. Caleb rubbed your thigh as he began kissing your inner thighs, each sensation sending electric shocks to you. You couldn’t hold back the quiet whimpers escaping from your lips. 

Then, he bit down on the flesh. You let out a loud moan, your hands clutching the blankets that you were laid on. You could feel him suckling on the abused skin now as he tried to deepen the mark, before moving away from it. Then, he repeated the same thing to your other inner thigh. Your clit and pussy throbbed from the painful sensation yet you could feel yourself leaking more juices. You cried out again and began thrusting your hips upwards. 

“Aaanh…Ah- Ah…! Caleb…!” You whined. “Hurry up already!”

He kissed your thighs. “Getting impatient, are we? How come you could handle waiting what felt like forever in line for the cafe but you can’t even be patient with me right now?” His stupid playful tone made you want to punch him. You let out a sound of frustration before gasping as you felt him lick your clit. 

Soon, he began suckling on the small bud of nerves as he began fingering you again with two this time to start. - ‘You can handle two this time, right? You’re always so eager to take my fingers, baby. I’ll treat you good, yeah. You’re getting my fingers so fucking wet, honey.’ You opened your legs wider, allowing him full access to your cunt. Your head was thrown back as you felt his fingers curve upwards, stimulating your sensitive spot. It was scary at this point how well he knew how to break you with just a few fingers. You were being unravelled by him and he continued to consume every fiber of your being without hesitation. It also didn’t help how Caleb’s eyes never left yours as he drank up every face of pleasure you made. You averted your eyes a few times before succumbing to looking into his eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in those beautiful violets and your own numbing pleasure. 

The wet sounds of his fingers fucking your tender hole was loud, as well as his moans enjoying his dinner. - ‘Princess, you taste so good… Mmm, could eat you for hours, honey. You’re being so good to me, baby.’ Your hole and your clit were never left alone as they were always receiving attention from Caleb. When he moved his mouth to your entrance and allowed his tongue to explore your soft insides, drinking up any slick that dared to leave your sobbing cunt, his fingers worked their magic in playing with your clit. And if he was attacking your clit with his soft tongue, his fingers would relentlessly fill you up. 

You could feel yourself getting closer by the second. You tried to not let it show on your face but the man who was giving you the world was Caleb - the person who always knew what you were feeling. The embarrassing sounds that you were making also became louder and more erotic, as well as how your legs were shaking - signalling how close your climax was coming. 

“Oouhh..! A-Ahhn..! C-Caleb! I’m gonna cum! Caleb, Caleb…!” You started chanting his name as if it was the only thing tying you down to staying conscious. He quickly grabbed one of your hands with his as he continued to eat you out, moaning into your cunt as he did so. - “Cum for me, baby. Give it all to me, sweetie. Give me all of you.” As you were riding out your orgasm, you tightly held onto his hand as he suckled your swollen clit and lapped up your pussy like a starved man. You began squirting, getting it all over his face and the sofa underneath you. Caleb watched you orgasm as he drank everything you - oh so graciously - offered him. After your climax, you whimpered as you felt him cleaning you up with his tongue - he licked your thighs and your swollen pussy, trying his best to get every nook and cranny that was still blessed with your juices. 

Feeling worn out from your intense orgasm, the only thing you could do was lay down and look up at the ceiling. Hell, even trying to look at Caleb was too much work. After he was done cleaning you up, he laid down next to you and snuggled with you as if nothing happened. 

“I’ll run a bath for you in a little bit, princess. But I want to cuddle first. I missed you, honey.” He said as he nuzzled his cheek against yours. You let out an exhausted sigh and gave him a peck on the forehead as you ran your hand through his soft brown locks. “Did I do good, honey? Did you feel good?” 

You chuckled. “What do you think? You could’ve done better.” You joked as you rolled your eyes. He was quiet for a moment before leaning into your ear, his breath feeling hot against it. 

“You think so? Want me to make you feel better right now then?” He said, then kissed  the shell of your ear. 

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink. You playfully pushed his face away. “I was just joking! I can’t even move right now, Caleb!” “So, you do admit that I made you feel good.” He chuckled as he pinched your nose. You scrunch your nose as you roll your eyes again, nodding. 

“I guess. Now carry me to the bathroom and put me in the tub, handsome.” 

When Caleb effortlessly lifted you up bridal style, he gently laid you in the tub after he removed all of your clothes and turned on the water. He hummed to himself as he ran his hand through the water, making sure that the temperature was just right for you. He had an obvious and huge tent in his pants, along with the wet spot from your leaky cunt from earlier as well at the top of his pants. You lick your lips as your mouth watered at the idea of taking him whole. 

You grab his arm and pull him down to your height. “Since you treated me well, how about I return the favor?” You whispered in his ear. 

He looked at you for a moment before grinning as he started to take off his clothes. “If  you’re offering, who am I to reject then, my love?”

[supernotnatural2005]

The Hiatus Beard

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean grows a beard during your much needed R&R, and it does things to you.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SMUT!(18+ONLY), swearing, Dean's beard 😍

AN: I thought I'd release a little something before the first part of my series: The Arrangement, this Friday. Scruffy Dean/Jensen is just 🤌🏻 and does things to me. So enjoy this little one shot that got away from me 🫣

Masterlist

For as long as you’d known Dean, he’d always been a minimalist.

Whether that was with his cut-and-dry humour, his “kill first, ask questions later” attitude on a case, or his appearance. The way he dressed—a simple jeans and t-shirt combo with a flannel thrown over. And then there was his hair, short, neat, a quick run-through with some gel, and he was done.

And it had always been the same with his face. Clean-shaven, jaw sharp, lips unobscured. He had a routine. No scruff, no fuzz, just Dean as he always had been. Until now.

The moment the world stopped burning for a minute, when the fight against Michael had finally ended, Dean had agreed to take a break.

A real break.

You and him up at Rufus’s cabin, away from the bunker, away from the weight of saving everyone. Sam had all but shoved you both out the door, telling Dean to let himself breathe for once.

And maybe that was what made it happen. Because, for the first time in forever, Dean let go. He let himself sleep in. He let himself do nothing. He even let himself grow a beard.

It had started as stubble, nothing unusual, just a sign of taking a day off from shaving. But then a day turned into a week, and the neat, smooth skin you’d grown used to gave way to something rougher, wilder. A thick layer of golden-brown scruff covered his jaw, making him look different.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. It was just facial hair. And yet…

You couldn’t stop staring at him.

Dean with a beard did something to you, something primal, something that made heat coil low in your stomach every time you looked at him.

Maybe it was the contrast, the way it softened him but somehow made him look rougher all at once. Maybe it was how it made him look even more like the hunter he was, like the kind of man who could haul you over his shoulder and take what he wanted. Maybe it was because it was just so damn new.

And then there was the way he felt when he kissed you. The scratch of his beard against your lips, the roughness dragging along your skin in a way that made your breath stutter. Every kiss was different now, leaving a burn that lingered, that reminded you hours later that he’d been there. That he’d touched you. And it only made your mind wander further—how would it feel against your throat? Down your stomach? Between your legs?

The thought had haunted you for days, simmering under your skin, making it harder and harder to focus on anything else.

Whatever it was, it had you in a chokehold.

It didn’t help that Dean seemed utterly oblivious to it. He wasn’t doing it to be sexy. If anything, it was the opposite. The man had taken to walking around the cabin in old sweats and a stretched-out Led Zeppelin t-shirt, scratching at his beard like he was still getting used to it, completely unaware of what it was doing to you.

Until he noticed.

It was one night after dinner, sitting by the fire, both of you with beers in hand. Dean leaned back, stretching, and his eyes caught yours. You must have been staring—again—because his lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Alright, what gives?” His voice was low, rougher with the rasp of relaxation. “You’ve been looking at me weird for days.”

You blinked, feeling heat crawl up your neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean chuckled, setting his beer down. “Oh, sweetheart, you definitely do.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, the sound of fingers over scruff making your stomach tighten. “It’s the beard, isn’t it?”

You swallowed. “Maybe.”

Dean’s smirk deepened. He shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he levelled you with a gaze that made your breath hitch. “You like it?”

You could have played coy. Could have brushed it off, made a joke. But screw it. You were tired of pretending.

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice quieter than you meant it to be. “I do.”

Dean’s eyes darkened just a bit, his smirk flickering into something else. Something hotter. “That so?”

You nodded, fingers tightening around your beer bottle. “Yeah.”

Dean didn’t say anything for a second, just let the weight of the moment settle. Then, slowly, he leaned in, eyes locked onto yours.

“What have you been thinking about?”

Dean’s voice was a low murmur, rough and coaxing, but there was something dangerous curled beneath it—something that sent a shiver racing down your spine. His gaze was locked onto you, sharp and unrelenting, like he was already inside your head, already picking apart every filthy thought you’d had about him.

Your breath hitched. You could lie. You could change the subject. But what was the point? He’d see through it. He always did.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, pulse hammering like a war drum in your chest. “I’ve been wondering how it would feel.”

Dean’s brows lifted slightly, intrigue flickering through the storm in his eyes. “Where?”

Your stomach clenched, heat pooling low, so heavy it made your thighs press together involuntarily. “Between my legs.”

Everything in the room shifted—thickened. The air became stifling, charged, the space between you crackling with something untamed.

For a beat, he didn’t move. He just stared, breathing slow and deep, jaw clenched tight like he was barely restraining himself. And then—

He snapped.

In an instant, Dean was on you.

His mouth crashed against yours, rough and claiming, his beard scraping deliciously against your soft skin. His kiss was brutal, messy, all tongue and teeth, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to taste you, to consume you.

His hands gripped at you, dragging you against him, pressing your body into the hard lines of his own. You could feel him—all of him—thick and aching beneath his jeans, grinding against the heat of your core.

A whimper spilled from your lips, and that sound—it did something to him. A guttural groan tore from his chest as he wrenched his mouth from yours, only to drag it along your jaw, your neck, his teeth scraping, his scruff burning against your skin in a way that made you tremble.

“You wanna feel it, sweetheart?” His voice was a rasp, breath hot against your throat as he nipped at your pulse, making you gasp. “Then let me give you exactly what you’ve been thinking about.”

Before you could respond, he was hauling you up into his arms like you weighed nothing, moving with purpose, raw determination burning in his gaze as he carried you to the bedroom.

Dean didn’t waste time. He laid you out on the bed, broad shoulders squared, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths as his eyes dragged over you—hungry, dark, wild.

And then, with agonising patience, he began undressing you. Deliberately.

He peeled away your top first, taking his time, letting his fingers linger on newly exposed skin before his mouth followed. Every inch of you was tasted, kissed, sucked—his beard scraping, the contrast of soft lips and rough scruff making your body writhe beneath him. He worked his way down, his mouth hot and open over your ribs, your stomach, the curve of your hips.

By the time he reached your jeans, you were a trembling mess, already lightheaded from the way he touched you, the way he took his time like he was savouring you.

But when he finally stripped you bare, something in him snapped again.

His hands slid up your legs, fingers pressing into your skin with a bruising grip, parting you for him. His breath hitched as he took you in, eyes darkening to something animalistic, something primal.

“Jesus.” His voice was low, almost reverent, but there was nothing holy in the way he looked at you.

Then he was moving, surging forward, his mouth hot and wet as he kissed up your legs—starting at your ankle, his beard scraping along your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs digging in as he worked his way higher, pressing kisses, nipping at soft flesh, until—

He reached where you needed him most.

The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate—a tease—but the effect was devastating. Your back arched, a breathless moan escaping you, and that sound shattered what little control he had left.

Dean growled, deep and low, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Then he dived in.

There was nothing gentle about it. He devoured you.

His tongue was relentless, flicking, curling, pressing deep as his scruff burned against the delicate skin of your thighs. The rough drag of his beard was intoxicating, every pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He gripped your hips hard, holding you in place, refusing to let you squirm away from the onslaught of sensation.

When your thighs clenched around his head, he groaned, the sound filthy, desperate. “Fuck, baby—give me that.” His voice was a growl, muffled against your slick heat, and then he buried himself deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, his beard scraping in the best, most deliciously punishing way.

You shattered.

Your orgasm crashed through you, white-hot and endless, and he didn’t stop—not when you cried out, not when your fingers yanked at his hair, not when your body shook from overstimulation. He just held you tighter, kept licking, sucking, fucking you with his tongue, dragging it out until you were wrecked beneath him.

Only when you were trembling, spent, did he finally pull back, his lips glistening, his breath ragged as he gazed down at you—his work of art.

And you knew, with just that look, he was nowhere near to being done with you.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one.❤️ And I can't be the only one, who's thought about this, am I right? 👀😂

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List: @bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom

[matthewswifeee]

Wedding Fun

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Today you're attending a wedding along with your boyfriend, Matt and his family. It wasn't vey often that any of you got all dressed up but this was one of those times. You and Chris were the last two scrambling to finish getting ready. You are standing in front of the mirror in Matt's room doing your makeup when he comes up behind you placing his hands on your waist slightly gripping the fabric of the long back dress you were wearing and kissing your neck softly.

"Stop it, I'm already taking forever" I say scrunching my nose and leaning into Matt. "But you just look so good" Matt says taking a step back so that you could continue applying your makeup. You look up at him in the mirror and God does he look good. "Baby come on" Matt says noticing that you stopped and trying to get you to hurry up.

"Nick wants to do tiktoks for the group account" Chris tells Matt as he enters the room with us tugging at his poorly tied tie. "Alright give me a sec" Matt says watching something on his phone. "Wait" I say stopping Chris just as I finish my mascara. I turn around pointing at his tie making the two boys both laugh. "Let me help you" I say grabbing the tie and adjusting it. "How does she know how to do that and I don't" Chris says making Matt laugh once again. "Don't feel bad, I tied Matt's too" I say patting his shoulder. "GUYS COME ON" Nick shouts from downstairs making the two boys and myself hurry down the stairs with my shoes, purse and phone in my hands.

I stand off tot he side as Nick sets up the phone for the three of them to make their tiktok. I slip on my heels and throw the small purse over my shoulder listening to the music start playing as the boys stand in front of the camera. "Another" Nick states before propping up the phone once again. The music starts playing and Matt quickly grabs my hand pulling me in front of him before pressing his body against me. All you can feel is his slightly hard dick pressing against your ass sending sensations through your body making you slightly bite your lip from being caught off guard. "Alright kids come on" Matt's dad says to the four of us signaling to us that it was time to leave.

We all pile into the car with Matt and I in the very back alone. It wasn't a long car ride but it felt like hours with Matts hand resting on my thigh as his fingers rubbed my leg slightly. We arrive when the wedding was taking place, meeting Matt's brother, Justin there. We walk inside seeing the beautiful scenery that overcame but venue. Finding our seats and quickly being sat in them. Matt and his brothers are all talking and laughing which I would usually join in on but my mind is to focused on how amazing my boyfriend looks in that black suit paired with the Dior tie, matching the black dress I was wearing.

. . .

The ceremony part of the wedding was long over and we've been at the reception for about two hours now. Matt and his brothers had been taking pictures and chatting with family the whole night, introducing me to a lot of new family members but still all that was on my mind is when we'd be leaving so that I could rip that suit right off of him. "You ok" Nick asks snapping me out of the daze I had been in most of the night. "Yea, yea I'm good" I respond giving Matt's hand that was placed in mine a squeeze making him turn his attention toward me. "I'll be back I have to use the bathroom" I whisper so that only Matt could hear me.

"Dad can I borrow they keys for a minute" Matt asks his dad quietly. "Sure, why" he responds handing Matt the keys from his jacket. "Uh (Y/n) got her period" Matt says coming up with something so that his dad wouldn't ask anymore questions. I walk out of the bathroom and see Matt standing there waiting for me. "Let's go" he says grabbing my hand and leading me to the car. "What are we doing" I say getting into the passenger side as he opens the door for me. "You think I haven't noticed you quiet literally staring at me all night long" Matt says before closing the door the climbing into the drivers seat and starting the car.

It was dark out and pretty late so there was practically no one else out right now. Matt drives down the road a bit and pulls into an empty parking garage. The garage was dimly lit up by the lights inside, just enough for us to see what we were doing but not enough for anyone to see into the car. "Gotta make this quick" Matt says climbing into the back seat and I follow.

I sit on Matt's lap facing towards him as his hands are resting on my ass and mine are placed on his shoulders. Matt takes a moment, looking me up and down before pulling me a bit closer for a kiss. "I love you, you know that" Matt says pressing his forehead against mine making me smile like an idiot. I give him another soft kiss until we both heard a loud knocking sound on the window. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Matt opens the back door stepping out of the car but leaving the door open. "What are you kids doing" the officer questions Matt and I can tell he's quite embarrassed as am I. "We um, we were just talking" Matt says looking back at me as he tugs on his expensive tie nervously. "Well how about the two of you get out of here and get back to whatever fancy place you came from" the officer says taking a step away from the car. Matt helps me out of the backseat and opens the passenger door once again for me to get in before he gets in the driver seat. "You ok" I ask placing my hand on his leg as he starts driving away and I see him let out a breath. "I can not believe that just happened" he says making us both laugh.

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I know this is old news but it took me forever to end it lol

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 70

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,735ish

Summary: Your relationship continues to progress as your health declines.

Warning(s): health problems, illusions to sex, talk of death

Notes: There's some time skips in here and a rollercoaster of emotions. Please send in reactions! Can't believe there's only the final 2 chapters left. HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Kissing and making out quickly become your and Logan’s favorite thing to do together. But Logan especially loved stealing small kisses as the two of you cooked, cleaned, cuddled together or just any time he could. 

Despite your hesitation, Logan took over the rent. You told Laura about getting fired but told her not to worry, that you and Logan had a plan. She argued at first, saying that she could quit school and work full time, but you quickly convinced her otherwise.

At this point, Logan was basically living at your place. He would go home to sleep and change for a few hours but he was over at your place for the rest of his free time. 

It had been weeks since your first kiss and your powers were increasingly getting worse. You were currently laying on the couch, groaning in pain. Your joints felt like they were on fire, which they probably were. You had completely lost track of time and failed to realize that it was time for dinner until Logan came home from work.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted. His eyes fell to you on the couch and could immediately tell that something was wrong. He rushed over to your side. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

“Everything… hurts…” you panted.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Didn’t… want… to… bother…”

Logan shook his head. “You’re never a bother, doll.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, sighing as he felt how hot you were. “What can I do to help?”

“Bed…”

Without another word, Logan carefully pushed his arms underneath you and pulled you into his chest. He stood up and carried you to bed.

“What else can I do for you, baby?” He asked, softly.

“Nothing,” you rasped. “I’m fine…”

“Don’t lie to me.” Your stomach rumbled. “Darlin’, have you eaten at all today?”

“A little.”

Logan sighed. “That’s not okay. Will you be okay if I leave to go make some dinner?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” He leaned in and pecked your lips. “Call for me if you need anything, alright?”

You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed. Logan sighed, hating that he couldn’t do anything to take away your pain. The cure seemed to burn a hole in his pocket as he headed for the kitchen. He knew that you were getting worse and that the cure may not work, but Logan was becoming close to getting on his knees and begging for you to try it. Though, then he remembered that if it didn't work, that he could lose you forever and he couldn’t bear the thought of that.

~~~

“Wake up, darlin’.” Logan’s soft voice began to rouse you from your slumber. “Time to eat.”

You groaned. “More sleep,” you mumbled.

Logan chuckled. “You need some food in you, baby. Gotta keep you healthy.” Your eyes blinked open until they were focused on him. “There’s those beautiful eyes.” 

You smiled. As you went to sit up, you whine. Logan’s hands were quickly on you, helping you up. His hands pressed into your back further once he felt that your temperature had dropped. He was absolutely hating this. One second he felt like you were okay and the next, he was reminded that you were dying.

“Come on, darlin’, I got you,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

Logan carried you down the hall and to the table. He set you down on a chair and quickly grabbed a blanket to wrap around you.

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled up at him.

“Of course,” he kissed your head before he dished you up some food and set the plate down.

“Thank you for how well you take care of me.”

“Least I could do for the woman I love.”

Your eyes went wide, completely caught off guard by the confession. “You… what?”

“Uh, yeah, I… I love you.” A brief moment of silence followed before Logan began rambling, “And you don’t have to saw it back. In fact, you never do. I’m okay with loving you like this. I’m okay with—“

“I love you, too, Lo.”

You had never see a smile on Logan’s face like the one he was wearing right now. “You do?”

“Yes, Lo, I do.”

He leaned down and captured your lips into a loving kiss. Your hand snaked up to the back of his neck, keeping his lips close, while his hands found your waist. Letting your emotions get the best of you, the chair next to you went up in flames. You whimpered into Logan’s mouth before he quickly pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry you fell in love with a dying version of me.”

Logan’s hand came up and cupped your cheek as he shook his head. “Don’t. I’m just grateful to love you as long as I can.” 

~~~

Logan and you still had yet to have sex. The two of you had made out and let it get heated, but you either stopped yourselves from going further or your powers stopped you. But there was one thing that Logan longed to do before he even had sex with you, and that was to hold your hand. It sounded stupid and simple, but it was true. He wanted to hold your hand as the two of you watched movies and as you walked the streets. He wanted to hold your hand over the consul of the car and bring it up to his mouth for a kiss. But you never let him.

One night, the two of you were cuddling on the couch. Logan reached over and took one of your hands. He noticed how you immediately tensed, but chose to ignore it. Logan began to caressing each finger and the palm of your hand. He felt each scar like he was trying to memorize them.

You bit your lip as tears began collect in your eyes. You hated your hands, how they were now rough with scars. You hated how Logan was touching one of them now, with such gentle care. But you didn’t want to pull away because you didn't want to upset him.

Logan knew that something more was going on as your hand began to heat up and flames began flicking at your fingertips. He pulled you back into him more and kissed your cheek.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He whispered. The new term of endearment sent chills down your spine. 

“Nothing,” you tried to brush it off. “I’m fine.”

“I thought that we were going to stop with those lies?”

You sighed. “I… I hate my hands… They don’t feel or look nice with all the scars on them.”

“I love your hands.” You scoffed. “I’m serious, baby.” He lifted the hand that he was already holding up to his lips and began pressing kisses to it, especially focusing on the new burns forming. “They’re so powerful and delicate at the same time. They’ve fought so hard all these years and they keep fighting hard for the ones you love… And I know that I would love holding them if you would let me.”

“You wouldn’t think that they feel weird?”

“Not a chance, darlin’. I know that they would make me feel grounded and closer to you. But I won’t press you into it if you really don’t want to.”

“I’d like to try… if you don't mind the scars.”

“Baby, I love the scars.” He kissed the palm of your hand. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“Love you, too, Lo.”

~~~

Laura came home one day to find you shivering on the couch.

“Mom!” She exclaimed, rushing to you. She touched your face and gasped at how cold you felt. She grabbed two blankets and wrapped you in them. “Mom, tell me how long this has been going on?”

“M—most of the d—day…” you stammered.

“Why didn’t you call anyone?”

“Didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“And coming home to find you like this is better?”

“Buttercup!” Wade announced his entrance. “I’m here to see— Shit!” He rushed over.

“Wade, I need you to take her to the bedroom, try to get her warmed up. I’ll grab some other items to warm her up.

“On it! Heating pad, Wade, coming right up!” Wade scooped you up and carried you to your room. He got you situated in a pile of blankets before joining you in bed, cuddling against you. “I’ve got you, Buttercup. Gonna get you all warmed up.”

~~~

“Hey, Laura,” Logan greeted as he entered the apartment. “How was—what’s wrong?” He grew concerned when he noticed she was crying. 

“I—I—I found her freezing on the couch,” Laura cried. “I’ve never felt her so cold… Logan… I’m going to lose her… I’m going to lose my mother.”

Logan pulled her into his embrace with a quiet shush. He didn’t say anything as let her cry while holding her close. He knew that there was nothing he could say to fix this. You were dying and even the cure weighing heavily in his pocket may not save you. This was a lot for all of you and it seemed that Laura was slipping through the cracks.

“I can’t lose her,” cried Laura. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Logan whispered, kissing her head. “I can’t lose her either.” Logan held her close, letting Laura cry it all out. 

“Wade’s in the bedroom with her,” she whispered once the tears subsided. “He’s trying to warm her up.”

“I’ll go switch him out.” Logan pulled away. “We’re going to get through this, kid. No matter what happens.”

Laura nodded. “I’m going to start dinner.”

Laura hurried away to the kitchen while Logan headed down the hall. Your bedroom door was open, revealing you in a pile of blankets and Wade wrapped around you.

“Lo,” you breathed out when you noticed him at the door.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled at you, stepping into the room. “Is this asshole bothering you?”

“Hey!” Wade exclaimed.

“No,” you laughed. “He’s been helpful. Not as warm as you though.”

“Good,” Logan said. “I’m supposed to be your personal heater. Off, Wilson.”

“Fine,” Wade huffed. “I’m going to go help Laura. Maybe she wants me.” He kissed your cheek before getting up and shutting the door behind him.

Logan pulled off his jacket, tossing it aside, as he slipped off his shoes. Carefully, Logan took Wade’s spot and pulled you into him.

“How was your day, babe?” You asked, pressing a kiss to the shaved spot on his chin.

“Fine,” he replied. “Just work. Wish you would have called.”

“Sorry.”

“You’ve got to start calling someone, baby. Or someone’s going to have to be home with you at all times.”

“I just hate that I’m getting worse.”

“I know, doll. Me too… You know that you could always try the cure.”

“No. No. I’m not ready to take that risk yet. I need more time… we need more time.”

Logan sighed, knowing that you were right. He gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you, darlin’. So much.”

“I know, Lo. I love you, too.”

~~~

Logan began sleeping on the couch, too worried that his apartment was too far away if you needed anything. After a few nights, you began falling asleep on him while watching movies. At first, he would tuck you in once the movie was over and then go back to the couch for the rest of the night. Then, Logan started falling asleep during the movies too, with you on top of him. 

Laura woke up in the mornings to find the two of you like that. She snapped a few pictures the first couple of days but as it continued, the sight just caused her to roll her eyes.

“Have you guys ever heard of a bed?” She teased one morning. “Mom has a bed. It’s in her room down the hall. It’s big and super comfortable. It can fit both of you. Use it. Please.” Then she left for the day.

You and Logan laughed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you,” you told him before kissing under his chin.

“Yeah?” He questioned. “You sure?”

“I’m positive. Plus, don’t you feel a little cramped on the couch?”

“Depends… are we using the bed for—“

“Sleeping. Right now, just sleeping.”

Logan smirked. “I guess I can be fine with that.”

~~~

Logan and you walked down the street, holding hands. He had just taken you to a nice dinner and the two of you were heading home.

“It’s a pretty night,” you commented.

“Not as pretty as you, my love,” Logan told you.

“Lo,” you leaned into his shoulder bashfully.

“What? It’s true. I’m the luckiest man alive to be with a woman as beautiful as you. Inside and out.”

“Even with all my scars?”

“Even with all your beautiful scars.” 

“Lo?”

“Yes, my love?”

You stopped and got in front of him. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated kiss.

“Take me home,” you breathed agains this lips. “Laura’s not home tonight. Take me home."

Logan quickly got you home and the two of you began making out in bed. You pushed him to lay down and you straddled him. His hands found your hips as he broke the kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” He whispered. “I’m completely okay with just kissing you for the rest of forever.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

The two of you began kissing again, Logan letting you take the lead completely. Your hands slipped underneath Logan’s shirt and quickly heated up. He groaned and you quickly pulled away, sitting up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean too.”

“I know, darlin’,” he said. “I’m just worried about you. I don't want you to hurt yourself. You gotta tell me when it’s too much, alright?”

“Alright.”

“We stop as soon as you start hurting. Got it? I can handle all the pain, just not you in pain.”

“Okay.”

~~~

Logan was nothing but a perfect gentleman, letting you have complete control except for when he could tell that you were over doing it. The two of you had to take a few breaks in order for you to not burst into flames, but Logan didn’t mind as long as he was with you. Logan would remember that night as the last perfect night for a long time. 

The next morning, Logan woke up first. You were still cuddled up and naked against him and freezing. Your skin was also dry and ashy. When you finally woke, you were crying out in pain. Logan immediately got to work on taking care of you. It was a long and painful day for the two of you. That night, Logan got Laura and Wade together and the three of them decided that you could no longer be home alone. Logan would continue to work and mainly take the night shift and weekends. Wade would be over you when Laura wasn't working or going to school because both Wade and Logan pressed once again that her quitting was not an option.

It was a week later when you began coughing up ashes. And another few days after when your whole body kept setting itself on fire. It got to the point where you were now basically living in a blow up pool in the middle of the living room. It was the only way to keep you from catching fire. The problem is, they couldn’t keep the water warm enough to stop the chills.

They all put up with this for six weeks before Laura finally broke.

“Mom,” she gripped your hand tightly as you laid in the pool. “You can’t keep going like this… We can’t keep seeing you like this.” Tears streamed down Laura’s cheeks. “I can’t do this. I know that you originally said no to taking the cure, but, please mom, for me. I need you to try.”

“Kiddo,” you rasped, giving her hand the beset squeeze you could muster.

“Please mom. For me. I need you to try. I can’t watch another parent die a terrible death.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then you at least tried and I will know that.”

Your eyes fell to Logan and Wade who were behind her. You could tell that they were feeling the same.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’ll take the cure.”

~~~~

Notes: I am not saying which version is angsty and which version is fluffy, though they both start out angsty. I hope that you choose to read both of them.

next chapter VERSION 1 >

next chapter VERSION 2 >

[chloe-skywalker]

Speak Your Mind - Jon Snow

Jon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 624

Summary: Tormund is determined to get Jon Snow to admit his feeling for Y/n.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“When's the feast?” Y/n asked  not wanting to miss it.

“Two days.” Jon Snow told her with a smile on his lips.

“What’s this feast for?” Tormund questions confused still by the customs on this side of the wall.

“It’s a celebration of coming together for friends and family.” Jon explained to his wilding friend.

“Will there be food?” Tomrund asked, looking between the two.

“Food and alcohol.” Y/n smirked at the giant redhead, knowing he’d like her answer.

“Then it’ll be a good time.” Tormund smirked back at her with the threat of a good time in his eyes.

“I’ll see you two later.” Y/n laughed before she left.

“You like her.” Tormund turned to Jon with a serious face. Well serious for Tormund.

“Yes.” Jon admitted shifting on his feet.

“Then tell her.” Tormund states the obvious.

“I can’t .” he sighs, shoulders dropping.

“If you don’t she won’t be single forever.” Tormund tell’s Jon with a suggestive wink.

“I don’t know what to say.” Jon shrugged his shoulder clueless as to what he should say to her.

“Just speak your mind tell her you want to fuck her passionately and have babies.” Tormund smiles encouragingly, to Tormund it was easy and simple.

“I don’t think I should phrase it like that.” Jon Snow grimaced but had to admit Tormund was right. If he did nothing she wouldn’t be alone forever and he’d lose his chance.

^     ^     ^

@ Feast

“Is there a reason why Tormund is trying to get us drunk?” Y/n asked leaning in to talk to Jon without the Wildling hearing her.

“Yes.” he nodded, trying not to laugh.

“Mind sharing.” Y/n smiled knowing with Tormund involved it was gonna be a good, amusing reason.

“Let’s go outside.” Jon suggested so they could be alone.

“You okay Jon?” Y/n asked once they were outside alone. Hoping it wasn’t for a sad reason.

“There’s something I’d like to tell you.” Jon looks at her nervously.

“Go ahead. I’m all ears.” Y/n smiled encouragingly.

Taking a deep breath Jon knew he needed to do it while he had the nerve. “Y/n I love you.”

“I love you too, Jon.” Y/n smiled at her friend, happy to hear his words.

“No Y/n/n not like that. I love you in an intimate way.” Jon looked down after explaining feeling a little uncomfortable and nervous. He wasn’t used to talking about his feelings.

“Really?” Y/n raised her brows in shock.

“I’m sorry if I-” he went to apologize but Y/n cut him off.

“No, no, no, Jon. Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you told me. I feel the same way.” Y/n reached out to grab his hand moving to stand closer to the man she loved.

“You do?” Jon was shocked to hear that.

“Yes. I do.” She nodded, smiling.

“Even though I’m a. . .” Jon referred to it but didn’t want to finish it.

“You're not, you know I know that, and I don’t care. I wouldn’t care if you were.” Y/n shakes her head, she didn’t care if he was a bastard but Y/n knew he wasn’t. He had told her the truth once he found out. She loves him no matter what. Whether he was a bastard or a Targaryen didn’t matter to her.

“Is this why Tormund has been pushing us together, and to drink heavily all day?” Y/n asked, smiling at him wondering if her thoughts were correct.

“Yeah.” Jon nodded sheepishly.

“Well maybe we should thank him.” Y/n laughs, biting her lip as Jon wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Tomorrow.” Jon smiles leaning down to finally kiss the woman he’s wanted for so long.

Taglist:

@padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld @gruffle1 @starkleila

[theloveoffootball10]

ғᴏᴏʟɪsʜ - ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs

complete masterlist

ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs x ᴏᴄ Something a little bit different from me tonight. A very old one shot reimagined as a Lando fic because I can’t help myself.

ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ 'ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

Five years ago when Lando Norris asked me to be his girlfriend, I was the happiest I've ever been we may have been young but we were in love. I never thought one person could make me feel like I was on cloud nine everyday the way he did. I had the life so many dream about; the most loving boyfriend, amazing friends, the nice house, the nice car, the luxury holidays. I had it all. It sounds perfect doesn't it? Don't get me wrong it's an amazing lifestyle until the person you love more than anything in the world cheats on you. Not just once but regularly. That's when none of that stuff matters anymore it becomes a world of anxiety, doubt and worry. Where is he? Who is he with? Will he come home tonight? This is the life I'm living now as Lando Norris's fiancée. 

"Where've you been?" I ask Lando casually as he strolls into the bedroom of our Monaco apartment. Deep down I know where he's been and truthfully it makes me feel sick but I don't actually want to hear the words come from his mouth. In my head it will be more devastating to actually hear him say what I know has been going on behind my back for months now rather than acting oblivious.

"Just out with some friends, you should come next time" Lando says as he starts getting ready for bed. I don't understand how he's so blasé and how he can act like he's doing nothing wrong.

"That would be interesting wouldn't it" I mumble to myself as I turn the TV off and pull the duvet over myself, cocooning myself in.

"What was that?" Lando asks as he stands in the doorway of our en-suite.

"I said maybe one day. Night Lando" I say turning my bedside lamp off to put an end to our conversation. Hearing the bathroom door close I finally let the tears roll down my cheeks. This seems to have became a more regular thing lately. Lando comes home late with no explanation and I cry myself to sleep. Thinking about our relationship I question how things have got this bad between us. How have we allowed things to get this bad?

"You cried yourself to sleep again last night didn't you?" My best friend Sarah says the next day as I sit in her kitchen.

"What makes you say that?" I don't even know why I'm trying to deny it. It's obvious when you look at me and sadly she's been through this with me so many times she knows the signs.

"Your eyes are red and puffy. The bags under your eyes are something else and your mood tells me that you're beating yourself up. Why do you let him do this to you Taylor?" Sarah says not even needing to ask what's going on.

"I love him Sarah. I haven't actually asked him about anything yet but it's the same signs as the last four times" saying things out loud makes me realise what I'm actually letting Lando do to me.

"Taylor get some self respect! This might sound harsh but I can't watch Lando hurt you any more. He's cheated on you multiple times! You know about four girls he's admitted to but let’s be honest there's probably a hell of a lot more and every time you keep running back to him. You throw him out for a few weeks maybe two months at the most and he begs enough and promises to never do it again and you take him back because you miss having him around! No one deserves to be treated the way he's treating you" listening to Sarah I know she's right but I can't physically admit that my relationship with Lando has ran its course. It's destroying me mentally. 

"It's not all bad though and I know he does love me" I'm aware I sound pathetic but I truthfully believe that Lando does still love me. We’ve been together for so long now, he’s the only one I think about when I think about forever.

"This isn't how you treat someone you love. Look I'm not going to say anymore because you know I have a strong opinion on this and we don't agree so rather than this ending in an argument I'm going to stop talking. I've told you what I think but sadly I can't make any decisions for you. If I could he'd have been binned off a long time ago" I know everyone who knows me would be happy if I left Lando for good but I can't, I don't want to be alone. I can't picture a life without him in it. I feel like I've put so much time and effort into our relationship to throw it away.

sᴏ ɪ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴs ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ

"Will you come in with me? I know exactly what I'll be going in there to and I'm not prepared for that" I say as we pull into the garage at mine and Lando’s apartment and I see the strange car in one of our parking bays.

"Taylor this is so wrong. We've been away for a hen weekend and now you're worried to even go in your own home because you know your dick of a boyfriend has most likely cheated on you, again. However I can see how anxious you are so I will come with you but I'm telling you now I'm not being held responsible for my actions if he has got a girl in there" getting out of the car with Sarah I'm terrified. I know Lando has cheated on me probably too many times to count but I've never actually caught him with another girl let alone with another girl in our home.

"Lando?" I say walking into the kitchen not seeing Lando anywhere. This just confirms to me that he's still in our bed with a slut. Yes I'm going to call her a slut even though I don't know her. Mine and Lando’s relationship has been in the public eye for as long as I remember and there's photos around the house of us together. There's no way she can't know about me. Walking into our bedroom I feel sick. Lando is still sleeping with the fake red headed slut next to him and I feel like I can't breathe.

"You don't deserve this Taylor. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know anymore Sarah. I could always block it out when I didn't see anything but how will I get this image out of my head? She's in my bed" I say. I'm angry and I'm shaking but I don't know how to act.

"Not for much longer she won't be" Sarah says walking over to the bedside table where she grabs the bottle of water that is sat there. Before I know it she's pouring water over Lando and whoever that is in my bed "get up now, both of you" I don't think I've ever heard Sarah so angry in the whole time I've known her.

"What the fuck are you doing? You absolute psycho!" Lando shouts as he jumps out of bed.

"How could you?" I say when Lando looks at me actually realising I'm there and not just Sarah. I'm scarily calm and I'm even scaring myself. I don't even shout, I haven't got it in me to raise my voice.

"Taylor babe this meant nothing" always the same speech. It never meant anything when Lando tries to justify his actions.

"Don't you think you better leave?" I say looking at the girl in my bed "I don't care who the fuck you are but get the fuck out of my bed and get the fuck out of my house. Now!" Seeing the look on Sarah’s face I know she never expected that tone to come from me, hell I didn't even expect it.

I don't take my eyes of the red head as she climbs out of bed gathering her clothes, within minutes I hear her leave the house. That's when I let the tears flow free and Lando gets the brunt of my anger. Next thing I know I'm throwing things at him, I'm hitting his chest and I can't stop the tears.

"Why would you do this to me!"

"I'm sorry! It was a mistake. She didn't mean anything to me. Taylor she's nothing compared to you" Lando says trying to pull me into his arms but I resit and pull back.

"Don't touch me!" I scream at Lando not wanting to be anywhere near him.

"You disgust me Norris! You've got the most amazing girl and you treat her like this! You don't deserve her! She should've left you the first time she found out you cheated" Sarah shouts at Lando and I know she’s right. I should have left years ago.

"Keep out of this Sarah! This is between me and Taylor! Why are you even here?"

"Because your fiancée was too scared to come into her own home by herself because she knew you'd have a slut here! Look what you're doing to her! You're destroying her piece by piece!" Sarah has so much built up anger towards Lando I can see this exploding as both of them raise their voices at each other.

"Stop it! Stop it now! Both of you!" I scream nearly hysterical looking between my fiancée and best friend "I know you don't like each other but stop! Sarah will you give us a minute please?" I say knowing I need to speak to Lando alone.

"I'll be in the kitchen" Sarah says giving Lando daggers as she leaves the bedroom.

"Tay..." Lando starts but I cut him off.

"Don't bother Lando. I don't want to hear it. From my perspective you have no excuse for any of this. We were supposed to get married! Christ it's not like you don't get sex from me because you do! I could understand a little bit more if that was the case! I want you to leave" I say determined this will be the last time.

"Taylor please don't. I love you"

"This isn't how you treat someone you love Lando. Just go please. Stay with a friend, stay with your family, stay with one of the sluts you've been shagging behind my back I don't care anymore. All I know is that I want you to pack a bag and leave. There never will be a wedding" I say throwing my engagement ring on the bed before walking out of the bedroom not giving Lando the chance to respond. This is the final straw I can't go through this anymore. After five years I need to plan a life without Lando Norris by my side.

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[kavehayati]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[moe-broey]

Idk if I'm gonna be able to articulate this on the fly like first thing in the morning, but. I think my ENTIRE body of work is This: Examining how family ties, bonds or lack thereof, the good and bad AND ugly, seep into every facet of who we are and how we come to interact with others. How sometimes, a family tie (or again, a Lack of one), will sometimes bleed into how you act and treat specific people. Will bleed into how you CONNECT with those people (or, will be the very reason you fail to do so).

HOWEVER. HOWEVER. THERE IS A DELICATE LINE. A BALANCING ACT. You CANNOT just simply attribute fanon flavored ideas of found family to such characters. That's too simple, and sometimes, is a complete disservice to the specific character you're working with. I am once again bringing up Chilchuck. YES, him being a dad Absolutely seeps into how he treats his party. But if you call him the party's dad, you're Insane. Do you know ANYTHING ABOUT THAT MAN???? He would prefer you didn't. But I digress. He strikes a fascinating balance, between having The Qualities and ESPECIALLY expressing his care for his party in a Really Specific divorced (separated.) father of three fashion, but that does Not make him a "dad friend". He's a professional. He's on business. He's going home at the end of the day, and at the end of this adventure he's thinking of setting up a shop. I wanted to keep this more vague and broad but like. The Chilchuck example REALLY DOES perfectly articulate What I'm trying to get at, here. He's the perfect encapsulation of How his family shapes him, how that bleeds into his relationships with others, vs Who he is as a person.

How we were raised, our family ties, whether you adhere to it or you've fallen FAR from the tree -- you still fell from that stupid fucking tree. It's in your blood. Literally. It gave you shape, whether you liked it or not. And sometimes some things just set off weird domino effects, that also affect us irrevocably forever.

WHICH IS. TO SAY. I have no fucking idea what I'm talking about. I'm always trying to figure that out. Found family is/can be real, you're not strictly bound by blood if you don't wanna be. BUT. The bullshit I'm constantly on, is trying to figure out how to balance all that without slotting everyone into reductive roles. I'm gay and I seek to destroy the nuclear family. Not attempt to recreate nuclear family 2.0. You CAN reconstruct What Family Is/Means from the ground up, but you have to accept that things are going to get Weird. Because you're Queer. You are fundamentally incompatible with the status quo and normalcy, the solution is NOT assimilation and palatability, the solution is to just. Get weirder. And be fluent in canon. Okay. I love you

[dhmis-autism]

"anyways id survive in that house" sounds like smth duck would say before dying. again.

NO BUT I COULD DO IT!!!!

not physically of course but mentally? i'm SOLID. i'm autistic, i hate change, i already have memory issues, there's no way that house would get the better of me i'd win for SURE

[todayisafridaynight]

arasawa from masato's perspective is genuinely peak comedy i cant stress this enough

[secondpersonpoetry]

HI!!!!! whilst eating dinner i watched the “once an otter always an otter” number retirement video on youtube and thought “ooh. cool. let me see what people are saying”. opened tumblr. saw your most recent reblog, pressed play. saw DYLAN STROME say the word “davo” and immediately had to pause it lol. put my fork down to boot. like…..flabbergasted. genuinely. man oh man. my goodness. unpaused. the past tense “it was (WAS!!!!) an honor to be your friend” (😧) and the “and hopefully we can make some more [memories] in the future” and the fade to black. SHUT UPPPPPPPPP. OH MY GOD…………….i don’t have anything of substance to add just im sick!!! im sickened!!!!!! it’s never overrrrrrrrrr. absolutely unbelievable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! frank ocean ivy trust and believe you WILL be looped for the foreseeable future……..they’ll never be those kids again!!!!! and the game’s in a week and a half!!!!!!! gahhhhhhh. nuts crazy bonkers etc etc. going to have an absolutely exceedingly normal one about it for sure!!!!!! hope you have a good one!!!!!!!

also! just for future reference: do you prefer asks of this nature sent to this blog or your hockey one? thank you!!

"Centaur over Tomer Butte" [amended, abridged], Robert Wrigley

you know. i don't think i actually ever registered dylan saying "davo". i think my ears just decided i didn't need to hear that, for the good of my brain to continue functioning. who up having their present haunted by the ghosts of the past who are less like ghosts and more like someone you keep forgetting walked out of the next room but also aren't quite sure if they came back and you've only just worked up the courage to call out to them. schrödinger's best friend who might or might not be there in your future to make more memories with. but at least this time you opened the door and left it cracked for him to crawl back through.

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

I had to tell my manager, borderline in tears, that I had to go home just minutes after clocking into my second shift after finally returning to work this week because my son’s father is so incapable of watching his own children that he had a tantrum until I came home. But I got to dance in the kitchen with my kids while my oldest very proudly made pancakes all by himself, and although I sobbed the entire way home, seeing my children smile at me with that much love almost made me forget it.