#that’s like a two hour drive away from home

[ceruark]

liquid courage

synopsis: aventurine leaves your drunk boss on your doorstep. notes: ceo! sunday x gn! personal assistant! reader. modern au (he's still an angel though, don't ask me how or why. the wings are important to me). fluff. cw: none! (implied aventurine/ratio, but nothing major) words: 3,147 inspiration: every kdrama ever

It was, for the first time in several months, a relaxing night.

After weeks of traveling between worlds and meeting with various business partners, you finally landed back in the place you called home: a rather luxurious unit in Golden Hour's finest apartment complex. It was far too big for one person and beyond what you dreamed of affording growing up, but it was necessary.

Not only were Golden Hour's Platinum Terraces a fifteen minute drive away from Dewlight Pavilion, but they also had the best security Penacony could offer. As the personal assistant of Halovian Corporation's esteemed CEO, you had a rather large target on your back. So, despite your initial hesitations, you'd agreed to live in the flashiest building in Golden Hour.

It wasn't like your wallet was suffering because of it. The astronomical cost of rent hardly put a dent in what the Oak Family deposited into your account every other week.

You sighed and stretched out leisurely on your couch, flipping through the channels until you settled on a showing of one of your favorite movies. You let it play in the background while you responded to messages from friends you hadn't had the chance to get back to during the trip. In between enthusiastic conversations and pictures of the fancy meals and hotels you'd stayed at, you scrolled through your social media accounts, grimacing at your feed when it recommended a picture taken of you without your knowledge.

It shouldn't have surprised you that being around Sunday constantly would put you under the same spotlight he grew up in. Heir to the Oak Family's fortune and beloved by Penacony's citizens, the only person on the planet who could complain about having more cameras shoved in their face on a daily basis was his darling sister. As his assistant, you showed up in almost every photo his fans snapped of him. Over the past four years, his fanbase picked apart everything about you: your appearance, your upbringing, your interests, and your lifestyle habits. You weren't quite sure what spurred them on— sheer jealousy at your proximity to him, or their infatuation for him extending to you— but they had all reached the same conclusion: you were rather unremarkable.

You were raised by your parents in a suburb about 30 miles out from Golden Hour. You performed well enough in university, graduating in the top percent of your class, but not as valedictorian. You managed to get hired at Halovian Corp out of college, and you'd been consistently promoted each year since then, moving from secretary to administrative secretary to personal assistant of a high-ranking director, until eventually, you ended up at Sunday's side.

Though your career was impressive, your life lacked intrigue that news outlets and Sunday's fans vied for. You didn't come from money, you weren't dating anyone famous, and therefore, you weren't worth thinking about. You preferred things that way, but it still didn't make seeing pictures of yourself floating around online any easier.

(Especially when people began overanalyzing how Sunday spoke to you in this video, or looked at you in that photo. Their theories had substance to back them up, and you didn't like to think about it. It took damn near two years to perfect the professional front you kept up with your gorgeous boss, thank you very much, and it had only been about a year since he started actually acting himself around you— you couldn't afford to start slipping up now.)

As you scrolled past a fancam of Robin, a message notification popped up at the top of your screen. You tapped on it, and raised an eyebrow at the sender.

Aventurine: hey. you in?

The IPC director was an unlikely friend, but after dealing with Sunday for years and becoming the unofficial point of contact between the IPC and Halovian Corp, you'd started seeing him often enough that you agreed to go to a bar with him one night when you were off the clock. He was good company, and the two of you kept in touch.

One day, after finding out you'd been talking with Aventurine outside of business ventures, Sunday was oddly insistent that he join you two on that night's excursion. You were hesitant to agree, given that Sunday and Aventurine were civil at best and downright antagonistic at worst. But, Aventurine had readily agreed to letting Sunday attend, so you said yes as well. The night had gone better than expected, and after a few more impromptu meetings, Sunday had started talking to Aventurine regularly as well.

You were glad to see your overly cautious boss make a friend, even if he would never admit that they were.

You: yeah, what's up?

His response was instantaneous.

Aventurine: great. let me in, will you?

Your eyebrows drew together. You'd mentioned you lived in the Platinum Terraces, but you'd never brought Aventurine back to your apartment. How did he know where you live?

You leaned off the couch and toward the coffee table to pick up one of the screens hooked up to the alarm system. You tapped a few buttons on the screen until the feed from the camera facing the hallway came up.

Aventurine stood in front of your door, talking animatedly to your boss, who was propped up against him. You couldn't see his face, but you didn't need to to know he was inebriated. He probably wouldn't be so close to the blonde otherwise.

"What the hell?" You muttered, rushing over to the door. Sunday hardly ever drank, and if he did, it was never enough to get him past the point of tipsy. You quickly undid the bolts and threw it open.

Aventurine and Sunday looked up at you. Amusement danced in the former’s eyes, and for whatever reason, he seemed to be very pleased with himself.

Sunday blinked slowly, adjusting his vision to the sudden disappearance of the door. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before his features lit up with recognition. His wings twitched a bit as he tilted his head to the side. The slightest of smiles pulled at his mouth, and your name fell from his lips in the form of a whispered question.

You flushed red. You suddenly felt very self-conscious of your Hanu themed pajama pants.

Your gaze snapped back to Aventurine, who smirked back at you. You ignored it. "What happened?"

"We went out drinking and someone—" He turned to Sunday, whose gaze still hadn't left you. "—got a little carried away."

"And you didn't think to take him back to Dewlight Pavilion?"

"I think you and I both know there would be consequences if he returned there in this state."

You grimaced. He was right. Undoubtedly, there would be paparazzi camped outside of the Oak Family's estate. There always was.

"Okay, you didn't think to take him back to your place?"

Aventurine moved his free hand to his chest in mock offense. "Bringing a drunken man home to my brilliant boyfriend who's already waiting for me in bed? You must be praying on my downfall."

You glowered at him, but before you could respond, the rustling of feathers caught your attention. You turned, watching your boss sway on his feet. He watched you with a frown, appearing more upset than you'd ever seen him.

"You don't want me here?" He pouted, and his wings fluttered dejectedly.

Your stomach flipped over, and you reached out to grab his other arm as he stumbled away from Aventurine.

"No, no, that's not it." He moved away from the blonde completely as you reassured him, leaning into your touch. You grunted as you struggled to keep him upright. "I'm just worried about you being somewhere you don't feel comfortable."

He hummed, leaning forward and nuzzling his face in your hair. "I'm far more comfortable with you than the gambler."

Aventurine watched the two of you, smugness rolling off him in waves. "Yeah," he laughed, "we can see that."

You were going to kill Aventurine. You were going to tuck Sunday into your bed, leave a glass of water and an Advil on the nightstand, and then you were going to hit the blonde with your car.

You shot him another glare before turning back to Sunday. You pulled one of his arms around your shoulders and wrapped one of yours around his waist to steady him. He turned bright red suddenly and you opened your mouth to ask him if he felt sick, but his wings started flapping again. This close, a few feathers smacked into your mouth, and you sputtered.

Aventurine's unrestrained laughter brought your attention back to him. You snapped at him. "Can you make yourself useful and get the doors for me?"

It took everything you had left in you to get Sunday into your bedroom and withstand Aventurine's teasing, but eventually, you managed to get there. You eased Sunday down on the bed, keeping a hand on his back to ensure he stayed sitting upright.

"Are you feeling sick?" You asked.

Sunday shook his head. He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder. Fighting down another blush (you refused to give Aventurine more ammunition), you tried to pull yourself away from him, but he wrapped his arms around yours and held on.

"Sunday," you said, "I need to go get you water. Can you let go of me, please?"

His voice was muffled by your shirt. "Aventurine can get it."

Said man huffed, but he was too entertained to be truly annoyed, or to decline. "Sure I can," he agreed, before addressing you. "Where are your cups?"

"Top right cabinet," you answered, and he set off.

Sunday's head lolled to the side, rolling off your shoulder. His pout was still there, and it set your face aflame. "It's too hot," he complained.

And then he started to take his coat off.

Well, he tried to. His clumsy movements caused it to get tangled in his arms.

"Here, let me help you," you offered against your better judgment. You stood and reached behind him, carefully guiding his arms out of the sleeves. You turned around and walked over to your closet, hanging the coat on a nearby hook.

When you faced him again, he already had his shirt halfway off.

Xipe, give me strength, you thought to yourself, tearing your gaze away from his bare skin. Your gaze lingered on the wings sprouting from his lower back, which sat curled around his abdomen. When he managed to get the shirt over his head and onto the floor, he unfurled the second set of wings. They spanned the entire length of your bed and were much darker than the ones by his hair. He gave a few languid flaps before settling down, causing them to droop. You closed your eyes and pressed your palms against them. So much for keeping up your professional front. You had no idea how you were going to face him when he sobered up.

A choked gasp prompted you to drop your hands from your face. Aventurine almost dropped the glass in shock when he returned. 

"Well," he said as he placed the glass down on the nightstand. "Seems like it's time for me to leave."

You sent him one last scathing glare. "I can't believe you."

Faux innocence crept onto his face. "Whatever do you mean? I haven't done anything."

You crossed the room and shoved at him. "Out." You pushed him back down the hall and to the open front door. "Get out of my house."

"Wow. Eager aren't we?" He winked at you.

"Eager to get my revenge. Veritas will love the video I have of you drunk and blubbering about how much you miss him," you said. Then you slammed the door in his face.

As soon as the door shut, Sunday called for you from the bedroom. You'd heard him use a sickly sweet tone with clients before, but this one lacked the venom that usually accompanied it. It was like he was singing each syllable of your name, savoring the way each sound rolled off his tongue.

"I need to type up my resignation," you muttered to yourself. You could handle Sunday in the beginning when he was standoffish and paranoid, but there was no way you were making it through this.

You walked back to the room, willfully overlooking the way his hanging wings straightened up when you reappeared in the doorway. You stopped a few feet in front of him, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Hey," you said softly. "Let's get you to bed, alright?"

Sunday blinked at you, then looked down at the comforter under his fingers. "I am at the bed."

You snorted. "Well, we should get you under the covers."

His nose scrunched in displeasure. "No. It's too warm for that."

You sighed. There was no point in arguing with him in this state. "Alright, then. Lay down, and make sure to stay on your side. If you feel sick, there's a trash can right here by the bed. If you need anything else, I'll be down the hall."

You turned to leave, but his hand caught your wrist with surprising speed. He stared up at you with wide eyes. "Where are you going?"

You tilted your head at him. "Um, to bed?"

His brow furrowed slightly, the way it usually did when he was in deep thought. "But this is your bed."

"Yes, it is." You slipped your wrist out of his grasp, but he caught you again by the fingers. "I'm going to sleep on the couch. I won't be far."

The hold he had on your fingers was tighter than you thought. You pulled away, expecting to be freed, but tripped a bit when the rest of your body didn't follow your legs. He pulled you toward him and tumbled forward, falling onto the bed. He moved over and drew you closer to him, draping one of his wings across your waist and legs.

You didn't know if your heart had stopped, or was just beating so fast you couldn't feel it.

"Um, Sunday," you said, the rest of your words coming out as a babbled mess. You tried to untangle yourself from him, but he just clung on to you, refusing to let go.

"Please don't leave me," he mumbled.

You finally managed to put enough distance between you two that you could look him in the eye. "Sunday," you said, "you're drunk. You're going to regret this in the morning."

He frowned. "I will not regret something I've dreamed of doing for months."

In the end, it was neither. You were certain your heart was beating so hard it burst, and now you were dead. When you tried pulling away again, he placed a hand on your cheek, freezing you in place.

"Please," he whispered. "Just give me five minutes."

The desperation in his voice whittled away at the rest of your resistance. You settled down on the mattress, allowing him to hold you but not getting close enough for it to be considered cuddling. Staring at the ceiling in silence, you mulled over his words.

He was dreaming about cuddling, or intimate touch of some sort. It shouldn't be surprising that a twenty-seven year old man longed for that kind of companionship, but whenever other members of The Family had brought up him not having found a partner yet, he always shrugged them off. You figured it was because he generally wasn't interested in finding someone, but maybe it was just that he didn't want the rest of The Family involved in something as personal as his love life.

"I can talk to Robin about suggesting eligible suitors for you, if you want," you said. "We can even outsource their background checks to the IPC. Aventurine will be annoying about it, but I'm sure he'll agree to do it."

There was a long stretch of silence. Sunday finally spoke just as you'd begun to regret your words. "Why would you do that?"

You looked at him, confused. "You said you've dreamed of this."

"Yes," he said, "I did say that."

Was he really going to make you spell it out for him? Well, it had to be more embarrassing for him than it was for you. "If you desire... intimacy, it's only natural we start looking for potential suitors for you."

His eyes darkened, and a slight scowl pulled at his lips. At least this face was familiar: disappointment.

"I just told you I've dreamed of this," he muttered.

You nodded in agreement. "You've dreamed of holding someone."

"I've dreamed of holding you."

Oh. That complicated things.

You swallowed back a fit of nervous laughter. Your face felt like it was going to melt off. "I'm sorry." Your voice came out as hardly more than a croak. "I wasn't aware that's what you meant."

He leaned forward, eyes earnest. "Do you still want to look for other suitors for me?"

You considered your words carefully. "Not if it's something you don't want."

He hummed, then laid his head against the pillow. His breath fanned over your face as he spoke. It smelled like mint and whiskey. "Do you want to be my suitor?"

You pulled your gaze away from his lips and to his eyes. You didn't even know how your eyes got there. "I think you should ask me again when you're sober."

He studied your face for a long moment, then let his eyes flutter shut. "Fair enough," he said.

You laid there for a moment, allowing your heart rate to come back down and letting yourself take him in. His lips were slightly parted, even breaths slipping through them as sleep claimed him. His face wings twitched ever so often, usually followed by a twitch of the larger wing still wrapped around you.

You weren't certain how long you stayed there, just studying him, but at some point your blinks had grown heavier and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. You gave one last shove against Sunday's arm and wing to try and free yourself, but even unconsciously, his resolve could not be shaken. He huffed at the disturbance and buried his face further into the pillow. His wing tightened around you as he tried to curl in on himself, dragging you closer to him.

You sighed and rested your head on the pillow again. It was going to be impossible to get away from him now that his limbs were heavy with sleep. Knowing it was futile to try again, you let your eyes slip shut. You shifted into a more comfortable position, moving one of your arms to rest on top of the wing.

Five minutes, you lied to yourself. I'll try again in five minutes.

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff #hsr sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday x you #hsr sunday x you #ceru.writes #ceru.hsr

[qlossytbh]

𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐟 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you had been affected by harsh comments you overheard about yourself and spencer finds a way to cheer you up.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mean comments on readers physical appearance :( , fem!reader, use of makeup, insecurity, tooth rotting fluff bc why not!, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 no bc i would literally die if this happened to me, why do i write perfect men that don’t exist

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was stupid.

You repeated that to yourself, like a prayer. Like maybe if you continued to repeat it, you’d somehow convince yourself to believe it.

During the long tedious hours of work until the quiet drive back to your apartment, you tried convincing yourself that what he had said did not really prick a nerve the way it had.

You climbed out of the car, stiletto heels clicking against the crisp pavement. You popped your phone into the back pocket of your pants, grabbing your bag and closing the door with a huff.

The two of you were silent— both for ostensibly different reasons. Spencer was exhausted, sluggishly moving with each step he took towards the door of your shared apartment. You however, had your mind slowly, painfully eating you away.

It hadn’t necessarily been what the particular officer had said, if not how he said it— Quoting something along the lines of ‘using too much makeup because without it you knew you weren’t much.”

You hadn’t been paying attention, hearing it was a complete accident— Morgan was ranting non-stop about something you were initially paying attention to when you heard a pair of officers beside you chattering.

They were talking to each other, laughing emptily while glancing over at you every once in a while. You were sadly accustomed to the perpetual obtrusive gaze of men and they objectified you in and out of the job, something Spencer had yet to get rid of.

You didn’t let it torment you, continuing your attention on Morgan. Until their comments were filtering into your attention more vividly than what Derek was even saying.

They had been cruel in every way, shape or form— evidently your clothes, your makeup, the way you talked— were all a problem to those specifically snobby officers.

You held yourself firmly enough that these things usually never got to you— you wouldn’t let them.

Usually.

Spencer opened the apartment door, slipping his satchel onto the ground beside it with a soft thud. Your hand reached up, rubbing soft, reassuring circles into the back of your neck.

Things were quiet.

You headed to the bathroom, Spencer headed into your room. There was a familiarity between the two of you— coming home together, unwinding the day together, doing most things together. You fell in love with it ever since Spencer asked you to move in, but now it felt almost impossible to hide this growing insecurity from him.

Girls like you weren’t insecure— I mean you were, you just couldn’t show it much. It was pathetic, how something so stupid had dug its claws so deep into your skin.

A few minutes later, Spencer walked into the bathroom, watching you inquiringly reapply some pink shade of blush. You glanced up at him through the mirror, shooting him a quick smile before turning back to yourself and fixing the two coiled strands that framed your face gently.

He sneaked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and sighing heavily, immediately infected by the virulent sweet smell of you. You leaned back into him, allowing him space to dig his face into the crook of your neck and rest there while you continued. These small moments with you tugged at Spencer's heart, but he still wondered.

“What are you doing?” His voice was muffled, hot air tickling the side of your neck as he spoke.

You caught him gazing up at you through the mirror. “I’m retouching my makeup,”

“How come?”

You opened your mouth to answer but opted with a shrug, not entirely sure what to answer without allowing his prying gaze to see right through you. Spencer said your name once, in something nearly above a whisper.

“Hmm?” You hummed, trying to make nothing of his worried gaze.

“Did something happen?” He asked, pulling away from you. His voice was drenched in concern, grabbing you lightly by the shoulders and encouraging you to face him.

“No!—“ You were quick to jump to your defense, but the instability in your voice gave you away almost immediately. “No, it was nothing—“

You sighed heavily. Spencer’s hand came up to your cheek, lightly grazing it under the soft touch of his thumb, reassuring his presence just like he always did. You found yourself annoyed at the exposure— not at Spencer, of course not. But something about having to show him that the things you always reassured didn’t get to you in fact did, nicked something in your ego.

“I overheard some officers saying stuff about me,” You mumbled with an eye roll. You straightened your shoulders and reassured Spencer firmly. “I don’t care, I promise but—“

Spencer waited. Patiently, like he always did when you got like this. Maybe that’s what was so perfect about him. He was always willing to listen, whether it took you months to open up, or a quick shot out ramble, he was always there.

“I don’t know, it made me think,” You said, shaking your head.

“About?”

“Like if I actually tie my value to the superficial perception others have of me,” You explained, as accurately as you could. “People like what they see, and I do too, but I think that’s one of the only reason why I do,”

You looked up at Spencer, who was gazing into your eyes deeply, trying to puzzle together your thoughts for you. “You think that your beauty is judged solely on what people think of you?”

Your cheeks blazed with heat and you let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, it’s stupid Spence—“

“Hold on,” Spencer let you go, reaching into your side of the shared bathroom drawer. You blinked, completely bewildered as to whatever it was that your boyfriend sudden idea. You watched him, brows slightly crinkled as he pulled one of your bottle’s of makeup remover, along with a few cotton pads that had been lying loosely in the drawer. He popped the cap open, pouring a tiny bit of liquid onto the fluffy white pads.

He turned to you, cotton pad in hand. You looked between the small piece of cotton in his hand and his face. Before he could reach over to grab your chin, you quickly grabbed him by the wrist, eyes panicky. “What are you doing?”

Spencer huffed. “Do you trust me?”

“Not really,” You said, giving his wrists a small squeeze as a smile crept onto your face. Spencer deadpanned at you.

“Please?”

Your lips pulled into a tight line before accepting your defeat and nodding gently. He reached forward, grabbing your chin softly and bringing it across the side of your cheek. He then dragged the cool pad over your temples as your face twisted in disgust.

“It’s cold,” You hissed. He chose to ignore your complaints, aimlessly dragging the cold pad across your face and removing all the makeup that sat on it comfortably.

Somehow, this felt like undressing yourself in broad daylight— maybe even worse. You never usually walked around without at least a bit of makeup on, so allowing the person you loved the most to see what you were so insecure about was scary.

It erupted a string of thoughts and countless worries in your head, that were probably way too destructive than kind. What if he found something wrong with your face? What if he was somehow disappointed? What if he only got with you because of your beauty and now he’s realizing you really weren’t all that much?

“Is this your attempt at proving a point?” You asked as the cotton pad hovered over your left eye, rubbing gentle circles.

“Yes,” He answered, tongue sticking out in deep concentration. You began pulling back, hand tight around Spencer’s wrist. You squirmed under his grip.

“You’re getting it in my eye!” You whined.

“Stop moving around then,” He groaned, moving onto the other eye. You blinked, peering through your only available eye.

“You’re going to see my eye bags and I promise you it’s not a cute look,” You warned.

“Seriously?” He asked, sarcasm lacing every single word in his voice. You glared at him through your single eye.

“And my acne scars,” You listed, voice getting close to that of a warning. He hummed nonchalantly.

“And my lanky eyebrows and my lips—“ The cotton pad hovered across your lips, shutting you up, probably on purpose.

“The horror,”

“Spencer,” You muffled a groan, pushing his hand off your lips.

He pulled back, taking a quick look at your now bare face. Spencer wasn’t exactly used to seeing you like this. You’d never really walk around without any makeup in front of him, it was always either too dark to see or too early for him to even realize.

And god if he thought he had won before, he was now realizing he had won the whole lottery. His eyes raked across every freckle, every line, every dot on your face and he was absolutely stunned. He felt himself fall in love twice as hard as he already had. He set down the last used cotton pad and directed your chin towards the mirror at your own reflection.

“Look,”

“Hmm,” You shrugged, squinting your eyes indifferently. “Didn’t realize my eye bags were getting darker.”

Spencer pinched your side, causing you to giggle. “You look beautiful.”

You looked at Spencer through the mirror. This time, the compliment sat much differently. It always meant the most when the words ‘beautiful’ came from Spencer, but having him say it when it was just you, bare and exposed, meant the world and it made your heart start pattering harshly against your chest.

He guided your chin back at him, and cupped your face in his palms, softly stroking his thumbs across the soft pads of your cheeks. “So, so beautiful,”

He brought your face up to his and closed the space between the two of you. You sighed, melting once again under the substantial comfort of Spencer’s touch. You breathed him in— every part you possibly could while your hands rested on either side of his torso. The kiss was soft, but heavy with feeling.

He pulled away, wallowing in two more soft pecks to keep himself satisfied. You smiled before your eyes fluttered open. Spencer himself was decorated in a lopsided smile as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You watched him concentrate his attention on your fly away hairs. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

He nodded, pecking your lips once again. “And I love you,”

“Even if my eye bags get darker?” You pipped pursing your lips.

“Especially if,” He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug.

#fanfic #fic rec #fiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x reader #spencer x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer x y/n #spencer x female reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x bombshell!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

[latenightdaydreams]

Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, cnc, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

.

.

💖Set in the 1980s💖

.

.

It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

 The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

.

.

König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

.

.

You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

.

.

König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.  

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground.  Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

#tw: cnc #konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig x y/n #konig smut #könig cod #könig smut #könig mw2 #werewolf #werewolves #x reader #konig x reader smut #konig x you #cod smut #smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #werewolf!konig #werewolf!könig #lycan #lycanthrope #werewolf boyfriend

[cherriesformatt]

time of the month || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you get your period at work and feel like crap but you have the best caring bf ever

warnings: pure fluff, period, throwing up

word count: 1,2k

🍒

I was in the middle of a meeting when I felt it. I got my period. What a great start of a day. After the meeting was over I went to the bathroom and realized I only have one tampon, no pads and no painkillers. Which is the worst because I already was starting feeling like crap. That's how it always is with me. The minute I get my period I start having cramps and I feel like passing out. It was only one so I had four more hours of work. I got new purse and I forgot to transfer everything from the old one to this. My period was suppose to come in two days so I wasn't ready. The worst thing is that my department is mostly man and there is no tampons in our public bathroom. I need to change that. I went back to the office and started to work. I could survive on that tampon but I really needed the painkillers. I picked my phone from my desk when the time came I could only think about the pain not on my work. I decided to call my boyfriend. I did not want to because I knew he is out with some friends filming. But he was my only other choice.

"Hi, y/n everything okay?" He picked up after two signals.

I never called him at work so he probably got worried.

"Hi, yes, I mean no I feel like I am going to die from cramps but I do not have any painkillers... and I need pads and tampons and I wouldn't call you for that but I am really in pain. I am sorry I forgot to pack everything to my new work bag" I said.

"Oh...how about you call in sick? I'll come pick you up and we will go to my place? I pick up stuff from your apartment on my way. I am sorry baby..." He said.

First day and night of my period was the worst for me. He knew that. Gladly it was Friday so tomorrow I could rot in bed.

"Are you sure? You guys are still out filming?" I asked to make sure.

"Yup, just wrapped up with Jake and on our way back you are on the speaker actually" He said.

"Oh..I am sorry boys that you had to listen to period talk" I said knowing Nick and Chris are there.

"No problem kid, sorry you feel bad" Chris said and Nick yelled from the back that he loves me and will give my all the chocolate.

I smiled.

"Okay I'll wrap up at work and will wait for you. Thanks I love you" I said and I hanged up when he said his goodbye.

They came pick me up 30 minutes later and I was already waiting in front of the building. I climbed in the back since Chris was already sitting next to Matt.

"I would switch with you" Chris said and I only shook my head.

"Hi...Its okay let's just drive home, I need to lay down" I said resting my head on the seat and closed my eyes.

"Hi... here Matt took this from your place" Nick said.

I opened my eyes and saw Nick holding water and ibuprofen for me.

“Thank you…” I took it.

I wanted to talk to them but I just felt like I could pass out any minute. I fall asleep the minute I gave Nick back the water.

“Hey… sweetheart we’re home” I felt Matt’s hand on my shoulder and heard his voice.

I opened my eyes. We were in their garage.

“Oh… sorry I fall asleep” I said.

“Don’t be silly you’re not feeling well. Do you want me to carry you? I already took all the stuff to my room” he said.

“No it’s okay” he moved so I could exit the car.

The moment I stood on my feet I hugged him tight.

“Hello” I said and smiled when I smelled my favorite scent in the whole world. Just him.

He laughed and kissed my head wrapping his arms around me.

“Hi love… let’s go upstairs,hm?” He stroked my back and kissed my forehead few times again and than my lips.

I smiled and moved away a little and we went upstairs.

I had a small talk with his brothers and than I went to take a shower and changed in comfortable clothes. When I came back into Matt’s room he was sitting at his desk. There were snack and food on his bed and my bag was next to the bed as well with target bag full of period stuff I needed.

“Matt… thank you you’re the best” I said and he smiles and stood up.

“Let’s eat knowing you last thing you ate was breakfast” he said and I made a face at him because that was true.

I felt a little better because the meds kicked in.

We ate dinner talking about our day and then Matt cleaned up and put on some movie.

I didn’t even know when I was asleep again but when I woke up the clock was showing 4 am. I was in so much pain and I felt like throwing up. I helped myself up on my arms and stood up. I went to the bathroom and just fell on my knees in front of the toilet. I did not really pay attention if Matt was up or not. But after I let everything out I felt cold towel being put on my neck and my hair was put in the ponytail. I wiped my mouth with the paper and flushed the toilet. I sat on the floor and rested my back on the shower glass.

"Baby....here" Matt gave me water in the cup and he was holding more medicine in his hands.

I opened my mouth and he helped me with it. I swallowed and closed my eyes for a second.

"I am so sorry I woke you up and you had to see this." I said.

I don't know why it was so bad this month. I always had bad periods but lately it was just like I couldn't walk and live for two days.

"Y/n its okay it is not your fault and also I am sorry that you have to feel all this pain I know I would probably die already" He said and it made my laugh.

"Yes I know you would" I said.

"Change and let's go back to bed I'll go grab the heated pad for you" He helped me up. He already brought the stuff to the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth and cleaned myself up and came back to the room. I climbed back to bed and Matt brought me close to his body. His hand slipped under my shirt and waist of my loose shorts. Not in any sexual way. He started to gently massage my abdomen.

"The heating pad is on the night stand for the nigh but it has to worm up" He said and I nodded.

"Matt I love you, you are the best thing that happened to me" I said and I had tears in my eyes. Because of the little things he did for me and him trying to ease my pain. I just wanted to cry.

"Don't cry, please" He said and kissed my shoulder.

"Im sorry its because of the hormones I swear" I laughed.

"Goodnight baby try to get some rest. I love you" He said.

I turned my head and gave him a quick kiss and he smiled a little.

"Goodnight" I said.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

[coco-loco-nut]

Fresh Out The Slammer

pairing: Arthur Leclerc x Reader

summary: Maybe you have always loved the Leclerc boy you grew up with.

masterlist ttpd masterlist

________

You board the plane from America to Monaco, never happier to get away from your home and get to the Leclerc home. The flight seems to pass quickly since you sleep through most of it, and you are picked up by Arthur from the airport. You look different, more mature, more beautiful, but it was clear something was weighing on you from the months you were away.

"I missed you," Arthur hugs you, you hide the blush that covers your face. You aren't sure when your crush on your childhood best friend developed, but what you don't know is that Arthur harbored one for you too.

"I missed you too, 'Thur," you climb into the car, looking out the window on the familiar drive. After you told the Leclerc family you were arriving a month earlier than expected, Pascale had been asking your mother what happened to cause you to come early, but no one had been able to get you to talk.

"Come play on my stream with me, I'll let you use my sim," Charles begs once you get to the Leclerc home. Arthur had to go do something, and Pascale enlisted her middle child to drag you out of your room.

"Only because you offered your sim," you grumble, sliding on your shoes as you follow Charles to his car.

"We will be back for dinner, Maman," Charles calls to his mom. When you get to Charles's apartment, he quickly starts the stream and hands you a controller. After a couple hours of gaming and sim racing, he ends the stream.

"Okay, what's really going on. You're never that distant around Arthur and Maman," Charles asks, moving to sit across from you on the couch.

"Let me think of how to say it in French," you tell him, your brain switching to English for a moment. You only speak French or Italian when not in America or England. "My boyfriend cheated on me and we broke up a few months ago, just don't tell anyone," you say. Charles is basically your older brother.

"I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it? I promise it will stay between us," Charles gently offers. You throw your head back and sink into the couch a little.

"Things got rough. He couldn't -wouldn't- understand why I was always away for racing or training. Last summer was hard, when I got back in the fall things just got worse. Dinners were silent and we were just bitter. We fought more and more. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and he'd say her name in his dreams," you fight the tears back, wanting to power through.

"It's okay, you don't have to say more than you need to," Chales's hand rests on your shoulder.

"I was chained to the relationship. It was like one good hour cast a spell of hope that things might be okay, and the two years of working for the relationship would be worth it. I never thought I'd think of that relationship like jail," you let out a bit of a cynical laugh.

"It will be alright then, no? You did your time," Charles gives you a little grin, one that you return.

"Yeah, I'll be alright, just gotta get away from all of it," you reassure Charles.

"Alright, let's get back before we are left without dinner," Charles changes topics.

"Thanks," you really are grateful that Charles listened.

"I only have one question. Why haven't you talked to Arthur about it?" Charles asks as he buckles his seatbelt.

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to prove him right that it was a toxic relationship," you know you are lying to yourself, and Charles knows it too, but he accepts your answer.

Dinner runs smoothly as you and the Leclercs catch up, you effortlessly skirt around the topic of your ex. Later that night you sit outside, lost in thought. Arthur watches you for a couple minutes before moving to sit beside you. Both of you don't say a word. Artur wraps an arm around you and you rest your head on his shoulder. He notices your tear-stained cheeks but still doesn't say a word, electing to wait for you to take the initiative.

"We broke up," you whisper after a few minutes. Arthur still says nothing, the only way you know he heard it is because his hand gently rubs your shoulder.

“I feel like I'm finally free from being locked up. I shouldn't be this happy yet this sad," you say after another minute of silence.

"You were too good for him anyway, he didn't even like racing, so he didn't understand what an amazing person you are, and how lucky he was," Arthur doesn't quite say 'I told you so', but he does try to bolster you.

"I know. You have said as much in our letters," you can't help the small grin that forms. You and Arthur write to each other when you are in America, despite texting it is a fun way to talk. It's expressive, intimate, every word chosen carefully. Sometimes you sent him the latest poetry you wrote, a hobby you picked up while travelling, and othertimes it was mundane life updates.

A week later, you and Arthur attend an F1 driver's preseason party. You are thankful that you look good as the cameras flash when you and Arthur trail behind Charles. Arthur has an arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

A couple dances and drinks later, you find yourself leaning against a rail on one of the clubs outside patios. You don't smoke, but you have a recent habit of lighting a cigarette and letting it burn, watching the ashes fall onto the ledge. You gather the ashes and brush them off as the Max Verstappen approaches. Charles introduced you to him once, but you didn't get to talk much, even though you are in the Red Bull Junior Team.

"May I?" He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, you hand him your lighter. With a nod of thanks as you light the cigarette, he takes a drag.

"I didn't realize Formula One champions smoked," you break the ice.

"I didn't realize future Formula Three champions did too," Max gives you a small smile.

"I don't, I just watch them burn," you shrug, eyes searching for Arthur in the crowd.

"Then I don't need to worry about Charles saying I'm a bad influence on his future sister-in-law," Max chuckles and you blush.

"It's not that obvious, is it?" you look at the older driver who also turns to look at you.

"No, but you and Arthur have looked at each other like that for years, since I met you. Good luck in Prema, you have a lot of potential," Max compliments you, snuffing the cigarette and tossing it to the ground. You mutter a thanks before following him in, looking for Arthur. You find him chatting, a smile on his face, making the butterflies in your stomach more noticeable to you.

"Want to dance, Arthur?" you hold out your hand. He quickly excuses himself from the group and joins you on the dance floor.

Arthur watched as you'd disappear from the house to walk to the local park, probably to write poetry. Sometimes Arthur would join you, sitting beside you on the swings as you wrote. At night when the house was quiet, he'd sit beside you and read, or watch a movie, listen to music, anything to keep you going and healing before the F4 season. What Arthur didn't know was all those nights were what fueled the poetry you wrote the next day. You kept them in a shoebox, hidden in the closet in your bedroom in the Leclerc home.

As the season starts, you stand at the starting line with Arthur, ready to take on your first F3 free practice. Charles gave both of you some advice, but he trusted the two of you and Prema.

You and Arthur both do well over the weekend, placing highly and spending time in your respective development teams' garages.

Something changes after that, natural flirting and seeking each other out. Once night, sometime between Australia and Imola, you kiss. The tension and build up started when you arrived in the winter, and something between you snapped. The two of you are at the starting line of something great.

You and Arthur were walking along the beach when it happened, a full moon, empty beach, the mediterranean waves crashing gently on the shore. He held your hand gently as you walked, physical touch being more and more common between you too.

“I’m glad that your ex broke up with you,” Arthur says out of the blue. You whip your head around to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Arthur lets go of your hand.

“Because I can do this,” he whispers, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his waist for stability and to bring him closer.

That moment changed everything. He’d wait for you to get back from late night runs with hot chocolate and a cuddle. When you traveled with Prema for races, the two of you were inseparable, and you found yourself in the Ferrari garage a lot more than a Red Bull driver should.

Despite Charles inviting the two of you out after the races, you and Arthur go out with your group of friends in F3.

“You are the American girl of my dreams,” Arthur tells you, lips close to your ear as you dance to the music.

“I love you,” you reply, “I think I always have,” Arthur pulls you impossibly closer to him, capturing you in a kiss.

“I love you too,” his smile brightens the dark club.

“Get a room you two,” your teammate yells at you. As Arthur drags you from the club, you make a silent promise to yourself that you won’t screw things up. Because maybe one day, you could see yourself marrying the Leclerc boy who looks at you like you are everything.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #charles leclerc

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Shh! Pt. 2

Summary: The hangovers are very real for Dean and Y/N. Will they notice the artwork on the fridge?

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. This second part is pretty much all fluff too.

Word Count: 2,693 (This part was a bit longer than the first. Sorry!)

A/C: Okay, so the first part of Shh! was actually just supposed to be a one shot, fic request. But I got a fair few requests for a sequel about the morning after, and I wanted to know what happened too. So, here it is. Lol! I had a lot of fun writing the two parts to this little story. Hope you have fun reading them. ❤️

It was requested that I tag @arcannaa if I made a second part. So, here ya go, lovely. Let me know if you'd like to be added to one of the tag lists linked below. ❤️

Part 1 is here || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The Next Morning:

Dean's groan was deep and long and ended in one word. “Fuck.”

“Shh…” Y/N held her head in her hands as she sat up. “Why are you so loud?” She asked, and her voice sounded as dry and cracked as the Sahara. 

“No, you're so loud.” Was Dean's witty rejoinder as he sat up beside her.

They both turned their heads to look at each other and groaned again. Y/N looked around the room and her brow creased with confusion.

“Why am I here?”

Dean grunted. “I'm a little too hungover for an existential crisis.”

Y/N pursed her lips, side eyeing him. “No, idiot. I mean why am I here in your bed? Why aren't I in my own bed?”

Dean rubbed his hand down his face. “Well, your bed is about 2 hours away, which probably explains the sleepover.”

Y/N hummed her agreement and pointed at him, conceding the point. “Yeah, I guess neither of us was in the best shape to drive.” She paused and then scowled. “We didn't, right? I mean, we didn’t drive home.”

She squinted at Dean who was shaking his head. “Nooo…” His tone said that was impossible, but then he tilted his head. “Right? There’s no way we would have been that stupid.”

Y/N shook her head and then stopped when the room started spinning. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “No, we must have taken a cab. We must have.”

It was silent while both of them tried desperately to remember something from the night before.

Dean sat up straight. “Rainbow Connection!” He said suddenly.

Y/N turned to look at him again and one eye brow was raised. “Are you stroking out?”

Dean waved at her. “No, the cab. I remember we took a cab cause I remember being in it and singing ‘Rainbow Connection’.”  He closed his eyes. “I really don’t remember why though.”

Y/N gasped softly, remembering something. “Rambeau.” 

Dean opened his eyes to look at her and his expression was all confusion. “Uh…Rocky II. We just naming Stallone movies?”

Y/N made a sound of disgust. “No, B - E - A - U, Rambeau, not Rambo.” When Dean still just stared at her blankly, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “It was the driver’s name, remember. But you thought he -”

“ - said Rainbow!” Dean finished, snapping his fingers. “Right! That’s when we started singing it.” He nodded, happy with their mental sleuthing, and then he shook his head.

“Man, I hope we gave him a big tip.”

Y/N chuckled and then took a big breath. “K, I need coffee, stat. Like a vat of coffee, like, this is a  hook-it-to-my-veins kinda situation.”

Dean grunted his agreement and they both pushed themselves up from the bed with a painful groan. Dean grabbed Y/N’s wrist as they were leaving the room. “Wait, do you remember…did we talk to Sam last night?”

Y/N just shrugged. “Dude, I have no idea.”

“Huh…I feel like we did.” Dean said quietly as he padded towards the kitchen with Y/N trailing just behind him.

When they got to the kitchen Y/N collapsed onto one of the seats at the table and cradled her head in her hands.

Dean walked to the coffee maker and his face lit up. 

“Oh, thank god for a little brother who gets up at the butt crack of dawn to go running to nowhere in particular. He made the coffee already!” He grabbed two cups and brought them and the pot to the table. 

Y/N inhaled deeply, pulling the aroma of the coffee into her lungs. “Do you have cream?”

Dean made a face. “Cream? God no; this is a black coffee household, Y/N. You should know this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, of course. Only manly black coffee for the Winchesters. How foolish of me.”

Dean shot her a grin and nodded in the direction of the fridge. “Might be some milk in the fridge.”

Y/N groaned again as she dragged herself up and stumbled blindly towards the fridge. She looked back at Dean as she pulled open the door. “I swear to God it feels like my muscles are about two minutes away from seizing up all together.”

Dean chuckled as Y/N looked into the fridge and shook her head. “There is nothing resembling milk in this fridge.”

“In the back?”

“Dean, there is no ‘back’ to this fridge. You’ve got three beers and leftover pizza that’s harder than the cardboard box it’s in.” She said as she peered inside. As Dean began rummaging around at the coffee station, she picked up a piece of the pizza and banged the crust against the box.

“That’s just sad.” She muttered.

“Score!” Dean called out just as Y/N closed the fridge door. “Found something called Coffee Whitener! Not CoffeeMate, it’s literally just called coffee whitener.”

“Uh…Dean?”

Dean’s face fell into a frown. “Actually, I don’t know how old this is.”

“Dean.”

“Might be from the fifties.” Dean mumbled. “Cause for the life of me I can’t remember Sam or I ever buying -”

“Dean!” Y/N yelled.

Dean grimaced as her shout made his head pound. “What? Jesus, why are you yelling?”

Y/N was pointing at the fridge door. “What the fuck is this?”

Dean set down the coffee whitener and walked over. “What the fuck is what?”

Y/N just kept pointing as Dean came up beside her to see two wrinkled up pieces of paper stuck to the fridge.

As he read the words he felt his heart clench. He read both letters twice.

He looked at Y/N slowly and couldn’t read what her expression was saying. He shook his head. “I - I mean, I dunno. Where did they come from?”

Y/N shrugged. “I don't know, but that’s my handwriting and…that’s yours. Do you…I mean, do you remember writing them?”

Dean shook his head. “No. I don’t remember. But, I mean…it must have…I mean, it had to be some kind of joke, right? Like we were messing around? Just some kind of drunken joke?”

Y/N was looking away from him, but he shrugged again. “I mean, don’t you think?”

She nodded and her face was scrunched up when she looked at him. “Had to be, right?”

He felt his heart plummet even as he nodded. “Right?”

“Yeah, we were just being stupid, fucking around.” She concluded quietly.

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

They were quiet for a minute before Y/N pointed towards the table. “So, did you say something about 1950’s coffee whitener?”

Dean forced a chuckle. “Yeah, come try it out, if you dare.”

They sat at the table and Dean poured them both coffee. In the end, Y/N just took a bit of sugar in hers, not willing to be a guinea pig for the decades old, mostly chemicals coffee whitener. 

Silence reigned between them, neither of them able to push aside the words in the letters. Finally, Y/N couldn’t take the awkwardness and, pushing her coffee cup aside, she stood up.

“I should probably get going. I gotta shower and change and, you know, try to feel like a human again.” She said with a stilted laugh.

Dean nodded. “Yeah for sure. I’ll drive you.”

Y/N waved him down as he started to stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take the bus. There’s one that comes at 11:00. I’ve taken it before.”

Dean frowned. “Why the hell would you take the bus when I can just drive you.”

Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears nervously. She knew she wouldn't survive a two hour car ride, sitting so close to him but knowing she was never going to get any closer.

...it had to be some kind of joke, right? Dean's dismissive voice echoed in her mind.

So, she shook her head at him. “No, it’s okay. This way you can just rest and feel better. I like the bus. You know, I just put my music on and chill the whole way.”

“Right.” Dean said sardonically, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Cause you know, if I drove you, we’d definitely be listening to an audio book about the sixteenth century Christian Reformation. No music in my car.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “No, I know…but…”

Dean just nodded again. “Yeah, okay. Well, have a good two hour bus ride, I guess.”

Y/N smiled. “I will. I’ll uh…I’ll call you.”

“M’kay.”

Y/N cleared her throat. “See ya.” She said with another plastered-on-smile as she left the kitchen.

“Yeah, see ya.” Dean answered quietly.

About an hour later Dean was still sitting at the kitchen table nursing an ice cold black coffee when he heard the bunker door slam. A minute later Sam walked into the kitchen in his running clothes, sweating and still breathing deeply. 

He went to the sink to fill up his water bottle as he looked back at Dean with a smirk. “You look ill.” Dean just grunted and Sam chuckled as he took a sip of water. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

“Went home.” Dean answered shortly.

Sam frowned looking towards the fridge where the letters still hung.  “Didn’t you guys see the letters?”

Dean’s head came up quickly and he stared at Sam. “What do you mean? Why do you know about them?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Who the hell do you think hung them up there?”

Dean shook his head, anger in his expression. “Why the fuck would you do something like that? Y/N saw them and freaked.”

“What?”

“I’m telling you. She saw what I wrote and couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Wouldn’t even take a ride home.” Dean said sullenly.

Sam set his water bottle down on the island, hard. “Oh my god!” He growled. “I might actually strangle you both.” When Dean just continued to frown at him, Sam shook his head. “Didn’t you each read the other’s letter? You guys wrote essentially the same thing to each other. Because you’re both so into each other. Jesus Christ.”

He pushed two hands through his damp hair. “I figured once you both saw it written out right in front of you, you’d realize that you’re both a couple of dumbasses!”

Dean shook his head. “No, she didn’t mean what she wrote. She thought it was some kind of drunken joke.”

Sam scowled. “She told you it was just a joke? She remembered writing her letter?”

“No, but I asked if she thought it was a joke and she said yeah, it had to be. Had to be because she has no interest in me like that.”

“Did she actually say that?” Sam asked, speaking over the end of Dean’s sentence, “Or did she just go along with you when you suggested it was a joke, because that’s what she thought you thought?” 

When Dean didn’t answer Sam growled again in frustration. “For fuck’s sake this is ridiculous. I’m just gonna spell it out for you.” He walked over to stand in front of Dean at the table. “Y/N is madly in love with you.”

Dean scoffed, but Sam sliced his hand through the air. “No, shut up. She is in love with you and you are in love with her, and if you asked one single other person who knows you both, they’ll tell you the exact same thing. Because it is glaringly, abundantly, stupidly obvious, you dumbass. Now go find her at the station, tell her the truth and watch how quickly she tells you she feels the same.”

Dean was frowning. “That's not gonna happen.” But he could feel a spark of hope at his brother’s certainty.

Sam just glared. 

He threw up his hands. “Okay, I’ll go.” He stood up and walked towards the door, stopping on the top step to look back at Sam. “But when she rips my heart out and I lose my best friend, you’re gonna be the one who has to deal with me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pointed. “Go.”

All the way to the bus station, Dean was running through scenarios in his mind. As he parked outside, his watch said 10:50; was she already gonna be on the bus? Would it be like one of those horrible romcom things, where he had to chase her down through the crowd and then confess his love on a bus full of people. And if he did that, was Sam right? Would she love him back, or was it going to end up as - less funny romcom, more tragic farce? 

He had the scenario half imagined in his head, but when he walked through the doors he was reminded that the Lebanon bus station was actually quite small so, no running from terminal to terminal looking for her. There were only two bus stalls outside to begin with, but also, she was sitting calmly on a bench just across from the door.

He walked towards her and her eyes got wide.

Fuck, I can’t do this. Why the fuck am I doing this? Dean thought over and over.

He stopped in front of her and she looked up at him, her face puzzled. “Dean? What are you doing here?”

He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and rocked up on to the balls of his feet; he shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought…I really wanna give you a ride home.”

Y/N frowned and lifted a hand towards the small ticket office. “I already bought my ticket.”

“Well, get a refund.”

“Why do you want to drive me home so badly?” Y/N asked loudly, frustration tinting her words.

“Why don’t you want me to?” Dean answered even louder.

Y/N let out a huff of air. “I don’t want you to not…I don’t not want…I want not t -” She broke off with a cry of frustration. “Ugh!!”

She looked up at him and her gaze was confused and questioning. “Dean, what is going on here?”

Dean shuffled from foot to foot for a minute, until Y/N started to speak again and he cut her off.

“The letter was true.”

He spoke quietly and he wondered if she’d heard him. He wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to say it again; as it was, he was staring at the ground, his stomach in knots.

“What?”

He shook his head and finally just decided it was all or nothing.

“My letter. What I wrote. It was true. I mean, it was drunken idiocy, but…” He raised his head and looked at her. “It was true.”

“Really?” 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught relief in her voice, so he smiled at her and gave a resigned nod. 

“Yep. You are my good day.” He said, paraphrasing his letter. “I want kisses from you.” He paused a beat. “And also sex.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry.”

Y/N’s smile was bright and beautiful as she leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank god.” She bit her bottom lip and then quoted her letter. “I hope you will kiss me. All the time.”

Dean felt like his chest might actually burst from happiness as he grasped her waist and pulled her close. 

“I can do that.”

He pulled her tight against him, capturing her lips in a kiss that he’d waited for for a very long time. 

Y/N felt lightheaded with joy and with the headiness of Dean’s kiss. His lips were soft and searching as they pressed tightly to hers, and she opened to him immediately, reveling in the deep groan that tumbled out of him as he sank his tongue deep into her mouth. 

They clung to each other, endlessly kissing, sharing breath and stealing each other's moans. Neither of them were one hundred percent sure they weren’t just in a very vivid dream, but both of them were determined that if it was a dream, they didn’t want to wake up. 

The loudspeaker came on announcing that Y/N’s bus was boarding, but neither of them heard it, and neither of them cared. The ticket agent who’d sold her the ticket called out to her.

“Miss, your bus is leav-”

But her coworker interrupted her. “Shh! Are you crazy? Do you see the man kissing her? Trust me she does NOT want to be disturbed.”

She wasn't wrong.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean x y/n #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester mini-series #dean winchester crack

[effloradox]

Tell Me We Both Matter

eddie munson x reader

a/n: quick drabble to flex the ol' writing fingers! i've missed writing for eddie 🥺

No one tells you it's hard not fitting the status quo. It makes sense that it wouldn't be but going through high school and feeling like an outsider fucking hurts if you think about it for too long. In a way you're lucky you met friends that accept you for who you are during your time at Hawkins High or else you would've spent several years feeling extremely alone.

It also helps that you had a boyfriend for several years of your time in high school to make things slightly more bearable. Eddie may have developed a reputation for being a freak amongst your peers but anyone who looked beyond his taste in music and love for D&D knows that he's a sweetheart with a heart of gold.

Even when you went away to college and Eddie stayed to repeat his final year (twice), the two of you stuck together. The money you have left over from the part time job you picked up mainly goes to long distance calls with your boyfriend, and keeping up with his D&D campaigns (and giving your opinion is a must).

It's also why you've been desperately picking up more hours at work and saving money so that when you finally reach Spring Break you can travel back home and surprise him (and also take him on a proper date since dates normally consist of the two of you getting high by Lover's Lake).

Coming home without telling him seemed like a good idea at the time, but standing outside his trailer with no idea if he's even inside is making you doubt yourself. Maybe it would've been smarter to call ahead, even just to see if Mr Munson would've been here to let you inside rather than having to camp outside and just wait.

It also would've been nice to immediately be welcomed home to a friendly face after the journey didn't quite go to plan. Getting a coach home had been the cheapest option, and that was fine, but a part of you had managed to forget how conserative Hawkins is compared to your fairly liberal college town.

The fact a woman had scolded her daughter for just talking to you about liking your shirt and asking what it was hurt. The whispers that you were dangerous stung after not having to worry about stuff like that. The Hellfire shirt wasn't even that bad for fucks sake. It makes you worry for Eddie, he's always been more open about his interests and it seemed like things were getting worse for people who didn't have conventional interests after all the weird stuff that's been happening over the last few years.

You're trying not to dwell on the critical look the woman had given you (and failing to do do) when the sound of a van being driven way too fast makes your ears perk. You'd know that terrible driving anywhere. The horn noise coming from said van makes you grin as it comes to a halt haphazardly in front of you, and the driver jumps out without even turning off the ignition. Immediately, arms are wrapped around you, and your face is pressed into a wild mess of unruly curls. Fuck you've missed him.

"Oh my god babe, what are you doing here?" You don't hesitate to return the hug, and can't stop the smile growing on your face as he splutters out some surprised expletives at how tightly you grip onto him.

"Wanted to see you. Missed you." He let's out a soft hum at your words, his grip around you tightening. It's not long before you're being gently guided towards Eddie's van and you're pulling away from his trailer down a familiar route.

It's nice to be back in familiar territory. Hawkins might be a shithole but it's your shithole and it's good to back, if only for a few days. There's no better way to spend an evening than sharing a blunt with your boyfriend as the sun sets over Lover's Lake.

There's a soft lull in your conversation when your experience on the way home bubbles to the forefront of your mind. The words slip out before you can stop them.

“Does it ever bother you how people treat you?” Eddie takes a moment to think, taking a long drag from the blunt before slowly breathing out the smoke.

“Not really. Used to it by now.” You understand what he means but your heart breaks to hear his response. Guilt gnaws at your chest for moving away, for leaving him here alone to deal with all the small town bullshit.

“It shouldn’t be like that.”

“Probably not.” He shrugs as he speaks, offering you the blunt before taking another drag.

“You should come live with me once you graduate. The world is bigger than this.” Eddie stops mid-drag as your words bounce around his brain. The grin that appears on his face is nothing short of radiant.

“This your way of asking me to move in with you?” You blink at him as your words sink in. It feels right. Feels like a natural progression of your relationship even if you might not have posed the question whilst sober.

“I think it is.”

“I’d be honored. I knew ‘86 was gonna be my year.”

#he’s so baby 🥺 #my writing #fics #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #gn!reader

[lovesunshinefelix]

Blue

Tags: ex-husband!chan x reader, angst?, mentions of having children together but not specified how many, hints of a conflict but not stated

Warnings: not proofread, angst with no happy ending, italics = flashbacks

Word count: 967

Note: i don't believe this is good but there seems to be a lack of bang chan angst lately so i had to take matters into my hands (?) also i had a hard time thinking of a title for this until i remembered how much I love taeyeon's Blue, and I thought how much it would fit this blurb so here it is hehe

Watching your eldest daughter finish college is seemingly one of the happiest days of your life. You didn’t expect for you to reach such a milestone in your life since you didn’t even think you could take her there by yourself, but you were happy one of your kids is finally finished with their studies. Although it wasn't your milestone, you were happy, and you wanted to make sure you were going over the top for your eldest.

With the help of your kids, they put up some decorations for the occasion at home while the ceremony went on. On top of that, you were driving around to places yesterday to buy some of her favorite food. Although the other members suggested a potluck, you still wanted to make sure that her favorite food was being served. And before you left for the occasion, you were running around the house cleaning and making sure everything’s in place.

Evening came and you were both home from her ceremony, everyone she loves came to the small gathering you threw for her; yours and Chan’s family, the other members and their families, and some of her friends. She was truly happy celebrating her achievement with everyone that she loved. Hours passed and some of the guests started leaving, your kids left with some of their cousins to go off to god knows where, which leads you to continue entertaining the other guests. When everyone left, you began picking up some of the mess they left off.

You were cleaning up some of the things from the party and have moved on to washing dishes when Chan strides through the kitchen, seemingly pleased. “It was fun seeing everyone here. Thank you for doing this for y/d/n.” He said, grabbing a rug from your kitchen drawer and drying some dishes. You just gave Chan a faint smile. “Anything for my baby.” You let out a big breath, “She's worked so hard for this, and I want her to know that everyone around her supports her dreams and is proud of her hard work.” You smiled, giving him some of the dishes you finished washing.

“It only felt like yesterday when we brought her home. Now she's off to find a job.” He told you. You just smiled fondly at the memory. “I know. Remember that time she refused to go to daycare because she doesn’t wanna leave her siblings?” you asked, walking over to his side and keeping the rest of the dishes. He laughs at the thought, “Of course, I had to promise her to some ice cream after daycare.” He said, putting away some of your dishes and asking where things belong.

For a while, there was a silence between the two of you; putting away some of the things and slowly removing the decorations, until Chan broke it off. “Do you… ever wander off and think about us?” You looked at him, somewhat confused. “What was there to think about?”

“I don't know,” he rubs the back of his head. “But I often… wander off to it.” He said honestly. “… Sometimes, I wished things ended differently.”

“But they didn't.” You told him, not meaning to sound bitter. But he understands, he understood completely.

You were both silent for a while. Just cleaning up your kitchen, until you spoke. “I don’t even think I ever moved on from you…” you tell him honestly, chuckling at the thought of it. Chan was just stunned at your confession. “It's pathetic, I tried going on dates a few years after the divorce. All I could ever think about was you.” “… Then why didn't you give me a chance to start all over again with you when I came back 12 years ago?” He asked you.

You pondered on his question but it didn't last for long. You remember it all; the lying, the arguments, the sleepless nights. All of that and you had to keep yourself composed for your children. When he came back to you 12 years ago, all of that flew out the door.

“I know I’ve made some mistakes that led to our divorce, but I want to ask for a second chance. I want to be with you and our kids for as long as I live.”

“You have no idea what I had to put myself through to forget about you, and you come back here thinking we can fix this?!”

Even though it was years ago it felt like a scar that seemingly healed for years was cut open.

You just chuckled at him, tears rolling down your cheeks reliving all the memories it brought you. “No matter how much I love you, no amount of happiness could ever compare to the day you hurt me.” you said, “Especially since I saw everything myself. I can't do that to myself again, I was raising our kids all alone.” You sniffled. “I was there for you, I gave you the support our kids needed.” He said. “I have them during weekends and when they wanted to go out with me, how can you say you were alone?” he asked. “I know and I want to thank you for it, but I can’t help but feel alone in all of my battles the moment you walked out on me.” you said in between sniffles.

After that tense discussion you were both quiet for a while. You took in a deep breath, “I'm sorry, Chris. I don't want to have this discussion again.” You said, wiping away your tears and sniffling. He just nods defeated, out of respect to your wishes. He made his way out of your once shared home while you watched him walk away from you for the third time in your life.

#bang chan #bang chan angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #skz angst #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz imagine

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 7

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 7

Summary: The story jumps back a few days. The pieces fall into place.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 2,438

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Author’s Note: I didn't realize how short this one was. I hope things make sense.

Read Chapter 6 here.

*Three Days Earlier* 

You step out of the steamy shower and grab the nearby towel, drying your arms and legs off quickly. You, Dean, and Sam had just gotten back to the bunker after a long hunt and the shower had been the perfect remedy for your achy, tense muscles. Wrapping the towel around yourself tight, you step out into the hallway. Normally, you wouldn’t have risked a towel-clad run through the halls of the bunker but you’d been in such a rush to get under the hot water you hadn’t bothered to grab your clothes. You round a corner and run smack into a plaid covered chest. Dean’s arm catches you at the waist quickly. 

“Whoa, Sweetheart,” he says, looking down at you. The two of you stand there for a moment before Dean clears his throat and lets you go. You tighten your grip on the towel as you take an awkward step away from your best friend. “I, ugh…I was just coming to find you actually.” 

“What’s up?” You ask. 

“Sammy found a case,” he says. You blink and shake your head slightly. 

“Another one? We just got back,” you tell him. He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Says it’s a witch and he already knows who it is. Quickie,” he says with a wink. You let out a laugh and nod. “You don’t have to go. You took a pretty big hit on this last one. Rest up and we should be back by the end of the night.” 

“Hell, no, Winchester,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “You two don’t get to have all the fun around here. Now, let me go get dressed. I don’t like the way you’re leering at me.” 

“I don’t leer,” Dean says, stepping aside. Winking at him, you rush past and down to your bedroom. 

You throw on the first set of clothes you find before taking care of your wet head. A few minutes later, you meet Sam and Dean in the garage. Both are leaned against the Impala waiting. Dean laughs and shakes his head. 

“You gotta quit raiding my closet when I’m not home,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” You ask. 

“That’s my shirt,” he says, pointing to the oversized plaid shirt you’re wearing. You look at it then back at him and shrug. 

“Is that a problem?” You ask, crossing your arms. He smirks as he looks you over. 

“Not even remotely,” he says. Sam rolls his eyes and turns to get in the car, mumbling something about being disgusted. 

“You’re leering again, Winchester,” you tell him before going around to the backdoor of the car. Dean rolls his eyes as he gets in as well. 

It’s only about an hour drive to their possible witch’s house. You and Dean spend the drive annoying Sam by singing obnoxiously to Dean’s old cassettes. Dean parks the car across the street from the house and Sam quickly shuts the radio off. 

“That was my favorite song!” You protest. Sam shoots a look back at you before pointing to the house. 

“Kaylee Morgan,” he says. 

“And why do we think she’s our witch?” Dean asks, pulling his gun out. Sam glances at him. 

“Well, she hasn’t exactly been hiding her feelings about a couple of strange deaths in town,” he explains. You nod slightly as you look at the house. 

“Okay. Well…that doesn’t mean she’s behind it,” you object. Sam nods and pulls his phone out. 

“I went through her social media, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter,” he starts, scrolling. “Two weeks ago, she checked in at a bookstore. A weird, old bookstore with weird, old books. She posted this picture.” He shows the two of you a picture of a book. 

“Weird and old. Sure,” you say, nodding. Sam switches screens on his phone. 

“It’s an old witchcraft book. Like…worse than the Grimoire we have,” he explains. “A few days later, she literally tagged both of the victims in a post telling them to watch out.” 

“Did the cops check her out?” Dean asks. Sam nods. 

“They did but there wasn’t anything to link her to the crimes so they cleared her. But their deaths were definitely…witchy. Called the medical examiner and guess what he found on each of the two bodies?” 

“Hex bags?” You ask. 

“Hex bags,” Sam says, smiling. Dean nods then shrugs his shoulders. 

“Well this should be easy enough. What do you say we waste the bitch then go hit that diner we passed on the way in?” He asks, holding his gun up. 

“We still need to make sure,” you tell Dean, leaning over the front seat. You pop open the glove box and dig around briefly before pulling a badge out. You check the ID quickly to make sure it’s one of yours then fall back into the seat. “I’ll go in. Talk to her. See what I can get.” 

“What? By yourself?” Dean asks. You shrug and pull your phone out. 

“I’ll leave you on speaker. If you hear anything, come running,” you tell them as you call Dean. He takes his phone out and puts it on speaker before muting it. 

“Y/N,” he says as you open the door. You look back at him and he’s frowning. “Be careful.” 

“Always,” you say with a wink before getting out quickly. Glancing down the street, you rush across to the house. You knock on the door and look around the porch as you wait. It opens a moment later and you smile at the petite blonde behind it. “Ms. Morgan?” 

“Yes?” She asks, eyeing you skeptically. You pull the ID from your pocket and show it to her through the crack. 

“FBI. Agent Prince. Can I have a word with you?” You ask. She frowns as she looks at it then back at you. 

“I already talked to the police. They let me go,” she says. You smile and nod, pocketing the ID once again. 

“I understand. This is just a follow-up. Won’t take long. I promise,” you assure her. She watches you for a moment before sighing and pulling the door open all the way. Stepping inside, you look around. The house is decorated simply enough, nothing seemingly suspicious. “I like your hair,” you comment on her blue and green streaks as you follow her into the living room. She looks back at you as she takes a seat in a chair. 

“Can we skip the fake pleasantries and get on with it?” She asks. You force a smile and nod, sitting on the sofa across from her. 

“Sure. You knew the victims?” You ask. She shrugs her shoulders, crossing her arms. 

“We graduated together. They were a-holes,” she tells you. You nod slightly. 

“What? Bullies?” You ask. She shrugs her shoulders once again. “Why did you threaten them?” 

“I didn’t,” she says. 

“You tagged them…” 

“In one little post telling them they needed to be careful who they piss off, sure. But there was no threat,” she argues. You nod once as you watch her. “Besides, how would I have done it? I’m a college dropout. Didn’t their hearts explode or something?” 

“Well, it doesn’t take a college degree to Google something or…I don’t know…read a book,” you say. She tenses up slightly and you smile. “Anything sounding familiar?” 

“No. I don’t think so. Excuse me,” she says, standing suddenly. You watch as she leaves the living room quickly. You take your phone out and hold it closer. “She’s definitely hiding something,” you say quietly. 

“We’re coming up,” Dean says before ending the call. You rise to your feet and start to walk around the living room, casually looking for clues. 

“Are your friends coming?” Kaylee asks, suddenly behind you again. You spin around and raise an eyebrow at her. 

“Pardon?” You ask. 

“You’re a hunter, right? Your friends out in that old junker. You tell them I’m a witch?” She asks. Your eyes narrow and you take a swing, hitting her square in the jaw. She stumbles back and grabs a nearby vase, smashing it against your head. Your ears begin to ring and you blink as you take a step away. The door opens and Sam and Dean come rushing into the house. 

“Y/N!!” Dean calls out. Kaylee looks over as Dean and Sam step into the room. 

“Time to go,” she says. “Somnium clipeum!” She throws a handful of powder at you and everything goes black as you fall to the floor. Dean’s eyes widen as he looks around. 

“Y/N!!” He rushes to your side and drops to his knees, checking your pulse. “She’s alive. Where the hell did that witch go?” 

“I don’t know. She…she literally disappeared,” Sam says before running into the next room. 

“Y/N,” Dean says, shaking you slightly. “Y/N, you gotta wake up, Sweetheart.” Sam comes back into the room and shakes his head. 

“She’s just gone,” he says. Dean frowns and moves to lift your body into his arms. 

“She hit Y/N with something. We gotta get her to a hospital,” he tells his brother. Sam nods and rushes to the front door.

They get your body out to the car and Dean gets into the backseat, holding you close. “Come on, Y/N, please.” He pleads and begs constantly the entire drive to the hospital, trying to wake you up. Sam pulls the car into the parking lot of a local hospital. The two brothers get you into the emergency room and a couple of nurses jump up from the desk. One runs down the hall as the other approaches. 

“What happened?” She asks, checking your pulse quickly. Dean shakes his head. 

“She just fell out,” he says. The second nurse returns with a stretcher and Dean lays you on it. They begin to push you back and Dean starts to follow before the nurse stops him. 

“You need to wait here,” she tells him. Sam touches his brother’s shoulder and the two move into the waiting room together. Dean falls into a chair and runs his hands over his face. 

“I shouldn’t have let her go in alone,” he says. Sam sighs and shakes his head. 

“Dean, we didn’t know. We didn’t think she’d be in that much danger,” he tries to comfort his brother. 

A few minutes later, the first nurse comes back into the waiting room. Dean jumps up and rushes over to her, Sam right behind him. She smiles at them, reassuringly. 

“We don’t have anything yet. They’re still working on her. I need you to fill out the paperwork though,” she says, handing Dean a clipboard. He nods slightly as he takes it. 

“Right…right,” he says before returning to his seat. Sam sits next to him and watches over his shoulder as Dean begins to fill out the paper. He raises an eyebrow as he writes a name. 

“Y/N Winchester?” He asks. Dean shrugs slightly. 

“If they think I’m her husband, they’ll let me go back and see her more easily,” Dean says, not looking up. Sam watches with amazement as Dean moves through the paperwork quickly and easily, not having to think about a single answer. 

“She’s allergic to Tylenol?” He asks. Dean looks at him and nods. 

“Yea? You didn’t know that?” He asks. Sam shakes his head slightly. 

“Why would I know that?” He asks. Dean shrugs and looks back at the paper. He checks to make sure everything is filled out before going back to the desk. 

“My wife’s paperwork,” he says, handing it to the nurse. She smiles and thanks him. 

The two sit. They pace. They wait. Four hours later, a doctor comes into the waiting room and looks around. 

“Winchester?” He asks. Dean, who had been standing at a window, rushes over. 

“My wife. Is she awake??” He asks quickly. The doctor frowns and shakes his head. Sam sighs as he walks over as well. 

“We have no idea what is going on. Everything seems perfectly normal. By all accounts, she should be awake,” he says. Dean stares at him and shakes his head. 

“So…you’ve got nothing?” He asks. 

“I’m sorry. You two can go back to her. Talk to her, it might help,” he says. Dean runs a hand over his jaw and nods. 

“Yea, okay,” he says.

The doctor leads the two Winchesters down the hall to the room where you’re lying, still unconscious. Dean frowns as he takes in the tubes and wires, connected to you, keeping you alive. Sam pats his older brother on the shoulder before walking around to the other side of the bed. 

“Ugh…hey, Y/N. I don’t know if you can hear us but…we really need you to come back,” he says, reaching out and touching your arm. He stays there for a moment before clearing his throat and looking up. “I think…I’m gonna go back to that house. See if I can find the book and what spell she used.” Dean nods once and Sam leaves the room quickly. The older brother walks over to the bed slowly and falls into a chair next to you. He sits and watches you for a moment before reaching over and taking your hand. 

“Y/N,” he says before shaking his head and looking away. “This is stupid.” 

“I’ve seen it work before,” a woman says from the door. Dean turns and looks to find a nurse. She smiles at him as she walks over. “Sorry. Just came to check her IV.” She picks up the chart at the edge of the bed before looking at the machine. “It does seem a bit ridiculous. Talking to someone who can’t talk back. You aren’t sure if she can hear you or not. But…surprisingly, it does work.” 

“What do I say?” He asks, shaking his head. She smiles and shrugs. 

“Anything. Tell her about your day. Tell her you love her. Do you have kids?” She asks. Dean lets out a small laugh and shakes his head. “Maybe don’t talk about the kids then.” 

“Thank you,” he tells her. She nods and leaves the room. Dean looks back at you and sighs. “Look, don’t kick my ass over the whole wife thing when you wake up. It was just so I could be here without any questions.” He pauses and swallows back tears. “You gotta come back to me, Y/N. You gotta. I can’t…I can’t fight this fight without you. You’re…everything. My best friend. My rock. You’re the only reason I have any hope these days. Please, come back.” 

***

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisycsa @lailawinchesterr @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @deans-baby-momma @demons-eats-pie-too @brightlilith @kazsmr67 @onlyangel444

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dream warriors #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic

[selyeji]

amoeba

pedri gonzalez x reader

summary : lovers resting to their own corner in the woods, taking a break from social interactions.

warnings : none

you sat on the opposite side of the table from pedri in the party, loud music playing in the background, chatter filled the building since it was a team celebration. you were done eating your food, occasionally taking a sip from the juice you ordered. you started getting uncomfortable from the amount of people.

you crossed your arms on the table, your eyes darting below. everything was so loud, needing to just shut it out. staying here too long being an introvert was definitely a bad idea. your heart races from new faces entering and walking around. you pulled your leg up to touch pedris. looking up to his face waiting for him to notice. of course, he immediately stops talking to others, bringing his attention to you. once he saw your eyes, he understood.

smiling, he grabbed your hand with his, excusing yourselves from the conversation. bringing you outside to the balcony, to get fresh air. you breathe in, taking a break from the smell of drinks. pedri still staring at you with admiration with a smile on his face. “thank you pedri, it’s like you’re the only one who understands me. you’re the only person i need” you said, blushing. “im glad, i’ll always be here, im yours.” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear, kissing your temple. “c’mon y/n. let’s leave this place.”

…

you and pedri entered a local convenience store. grabbing snacks off the shelves, quietly making jokes and laughing at this late hour. you check out the items, grabbing the plastic bag and going back in the car. pedri started driving, turning on music as he drove to a special spot up in the mountains. he parks his car before you both get out, walking up since you weren’t allowed to drive any further.

“race you up there!” you yelled as you ran before him. you knew pedri would outrun you, obviously he’s a footballer, definitely way more fit than you. before you knew it, he was right beside you running, effortlessly going past until he pulled his hand out, turning his head waiting for you to grab it. you reached out, running along side with him. it was hard keeping up but you grinned happily anyways.

out of breath, you arrive. it was simply just a bench on top of the mountain, but it overlooked the city. dim yellow lights that stretched throughout streets, people living their daily lives, going home from work, the palm trees softly waving. it never failed to amaze you.

you and pedri sat down, opening the snacks you bought earlier. you bring out some pieces, bringing it to pedris face, feeding him. you couldn’t give him as much due to his diet, but he was fine with it.

this spot was truly special to the both of you. deep conversations, truthful thoughts and any sort of laughter was safe. whatever was said stayed there, it helped you get away from people. sometimes we just need a break from life, not completely shutting people out. all it needs it someone you can talk to, you had each other. being introverts, your social battery going out often, you two fitted perfectly like two jigsaw pieces.

no matter how tired you are, your heart would never be exhausted of pedri. you take your earphones out, connecting it to your phone as you open spotify. placing and earbud on your ear, the other on pedris as you scroll through your shared playlist. you both share your love for music, being diverse in almost ang genre. quietly watching people on the streets below working, children going home after playing the whole day, street musicians bringing life into the night sky. birds chirped in the trees nearby, squirrels rustling through the bushes. sometimes throwing nuts for them to eat.

quickly finishing the snack you opened, placing the wrapper back into the plastic bag since there wasn’t a trash bin nearby. as you both sat there in silence, the music still playing. pedri laid his head on your shoulder, you adjusted your position so he could be comfortable. resting yours on his, pulling out your hand to play with his hair. massaging his scalp as you softly smile at the beautiful city with your lover.

daily click to help palestine

a/n : lowkey rushed,,, ill work on the requests now 🤞🤞

#pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #pedri imahine #football x reader #footballer x reader #football imagine

[jerzwriter]

Our fandom is made up of 30 people, half of whom have the other half blocked, so I'm an idiot for even addressing this. But since this continues to be posted publicly, I'm going to set my record straight—MY RECORD. I'm not speaking for anyone else, and no one else can speak for me. None of us are mind readers, no matter how much some seem to believe they are.

Back in April, a creator posted commissions of Bryce Lahela and Keiki Lahela in which the two AAPI characters were whitewashed. I interacted with this post in two ways: I ❤️-ed and commented on it from my personal blog. Also, I was the mod of CFWC at the time and I reblogged it there as part of the Choices Fics/Art of the Week. When I realized what I had done, I posted an apology here without solicitation.

I was angry at myself for my involvement and distressed that my actions caused pain to others. I know whitewashing is wrong. It is racist. I've spoken out about it in the past. Still, I interacted. But I didn't delete my comments to try to hide my involvement as some did. See, when I'm wrong, I say I'm wrong. I apologize and will make amends when it's the appropriate thing to do. So, criticism and corrections are never a problem for me. In fact, they're welcomed because it allows for reflection and improvement.

I'm sharing information not as an excuse but solely for context. See, the world isn't as black and white (no pun intended) as some like to believe it is.

I interacted with that post at around 1:00 AM after being awake for over 18 hours after working a long day, tending to real-life responsibilities, and seeing real-life friends (something I suggest each of you attain.) I was exhausted and should have gone to sleep. Instead, I logged on to reblog and do my "CFWC-work". Something I did every day (for free...) when I was still the CFWC mod.

When I was reblogging, I noticed it was the OP's birthday post (it was mentioned in bold in the header). I interacted from my personal to be kind, and I reblogged to CFWC as I did with all submissions. Did I really "look" at the art? No, I did not. I was exhausted and working on auto-pilot. I'm sure you've all done it - ever end up home and not remember the walk/drive there? I'm sure you have.

Now, I'm sure our fandom mind readers will scream, "WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE!" and "HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE!" And have at it. In fact, that's exactly what I said to myself ... days after ... when I happened to see a post calling it out (days after THAT post was originally shared). I went back to look at the OP again, and that was the first time I truly looked at the art, and I was like, "Dude, what the fuck?" <- That was directed at me for not seeing it before because it was so obvious, and I was super upset over it.

I took action and accountability right away. I deleted the reblog from CFWC and took it off the F/AotW List. I removed my comments from the OP and really reflected. I discussed it privately with the OP - you know —like an adult. Then, I issued a public apology, and, most importantly, I learned from it.

It was a reminder to check my white privilege. Did I not see it instantly because I was exhausted and not paying attention, or was it because I am so used to seeing through the lens of privilege that I overlooked it? Truth is, it was a little of both. So now I know to be more cognizant and do better going forward. It was a reminder that no matter how much you think you've learned, there is always more to learn. Always.

It was also a reminder to be more conscious of the content I interact with. I have always tried to interact with as many creations/posts as I could so people felt appreciated. Most people in our fandom are not very supportive. They will interact with one or two of their friends at most. I know how much people put into their little blorbos, and I won't apologize for trying to make people feel appreciated. But no more. Now, I'm interacting much less and only when I have the chance/time to TRULY look everything over. (To those of you who ❤️ something to go back and look at it later, you may want to reconsider that, too.)

I also posted this, and it was especially offensive to some - though for the life of me - I'll never understand why. It's merely saying stop with the vaguing, stop with the hate anons, just talk constructively. It was not directed solely at this event - but every stupid fucking bit of drama I've seen. Everyone is so quick to assume the worst in everyone. Things would be so much better, and so much needless drama could be avoided if people communicated like the grown-ups they profess to be.

Just be a decent human being, and spare me the "it's not my job" bullshit. Because if you're screaming about it publicly, you've already made it your job. You're just not doing the job very well.

I'm not perfect. I have, do, and will make mistakes - just like every single one of you reading this will - but I'm committed to treating people fairly and learning when I make mistakes, and I will offer grace when others make mistakes and show contrition because I know no one's house is clean.

I ran CFWC for years and tried to make it as inclusive as possible and encouraged diversity. A mistake was made, and it was immediately corrected. That does not make a blog racist, and it's narrow-minded and ignorant to suggest it is. But as is often the case in this fandom, those who criticize the most are those who tend to offer the least. Always have a problem with the way things are done, but god damned if they'll do anything to benefit the fandom as a whole.

I hate seeing all the problems and division this has caused. I hate that three people have come to me and told me that they were told to "choose a side." That they want to interact with me publicly but are afraid to for fear of attack. I'm telling you right now, no one will ever hear that from me. I will never tell anyone to block anyone. In fact, I only block people I consider unsafe or who block me - because you don't get to have it both ways. In real life, if a friend tells me I have to choose between them and another friend? I will ALWAYS choose the friend who did not ask me to choose because the one who did already showed me who they are. Make your own choices, but if you feel you can only interact with me privately, I'd rather you block me and move on. I don't need "friends" like that.

It was very hurtful that someone I considered a friend didn't think enough of me to come to me privately and assumed the worst of me without so much as a word. A conversation could have done wonders. But you know what that tells me? The "friendship" wasn't as much of a friendship as I had believed. It happens, and it stung for a bit, but that's done. After all, we never lose true friends.

I totally broke my rule of not explaining myself to those who were committed to misunderstanding me, but I just had enough. Besides, I don't give a damn about them - consider it a gift to my haters. Have at it - tear it all apart - if that's what you live for and have nothing better to do - go for it. I honestly feel sad for you. I wrote this for me - to put my truth out there. And I wrote it for those who are afraid to say these things themselves, and trust, they are out there. It's really, really, really pathetic that a fandom about stupid pixelated people devolves into this.

#open heart #fandom discourse #why am i even here? #why is any sane person even here #oh - we're not sane!

[whatevertheweather]

Well, hello again.

It's been a very busy month, and I have roughly nothing left in my head, but it's Wednesday okay, and that's finally aligning with a day I ended up driving home thinking I want to do a wip post okay. So first, thank you to everyone still commenting on Musical Chairs, and I'm sorry to anyone who's been hoping I can get the last chapter out in a timely manner. I can't, obviously, but as a sad offering in that chapter's stead, I have here An Ode to How Soundly Musical Chairs Is Kicking My Ass.

This is a multimedia presentation. In this essay I will-

I don't have a posting goal anymore. As soon as possible is a moving target. But I do have two deleted scenes, and here's one.

“Stupidity has no bearing on whether or not I hate something,” Baz said. “No? The two’ve always struck me as pretty intertwined,” Niamh said, picking up her drink. And then, like it was a completely separate observation, “I’ve noticed you seem to hate a lot of things.”

I also have 44 pages at the top of my Miscellany document that contain nothing but snippets for musical chairs, and scenes cut from musical chairs, and scenes rewritten for musical chairs, and checklists made for musical chairs, and all caps yelling for musical chairs, and-

Featuring such goodies as:

And:

So in theory. And I hate this because I’D HAVE TO REWRITE AGAIN but in theory.

And:

[HEY MAYBE JUST FULLY FUCKING SWITCH TRAJECTORY AND GO] “[Redacted].” Baz raised an eyebrow. “[Also redacted].” [FUCK BUT ACTUALLY. IT’S WEIRD AT THIS POINT. AFTER HE’S ALREADY PUSHED THIS MUCH. FUCK. YES OKAY MOVE IT UP TO COULD HAVE HAD SOME FUN. SIMON JUST PIVOTS FROM COMMITTING TO THAT/MAKING BAZ MAKE HIM COMMIT TO THAT BY SAYING HE DOES ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT. AND THE SCENE WILL DEFINITELY AND FOR SURE WORK THIS TIME AMEN.]

It's possible these latest two yellings are leading me in the right direction, but I don't know yet, because I made those notes and then dusted off my hands and ran walked away for a month. We'll see. I've at least started thinking about it again. (The trick is apparently pacing small circles around your enclosure while you're on hold with customer support for an hour.)

Here's that other deleted scene, as a treat. It was a treat for me, anyway, because I don't remember writing it.

“Despite our best efforts,” Agatha muttered, and everyone looked at her. She raised her eyebrows. “She started it. I was out for a week because of her.” “You gave Agatha a concussion?” Baz smirked as Simon said, “You’ve had a concussion?” “Yes,” Niamh answered, and Simon added, “That explains it.” Agatha turned from whatever she’d been about to say, replacing it with, “Explains what?” Simon gave a sad little hum and nudged her chin. “Why you don’t even know what it explains.”

By the way, the actual final chapter is 45 pages at present. One (1) page deeper than the burial ground for its failures. Though the burial ground has a lot of gaps between graves. That probably adds a few pages.

Anyhow, I do sincerely hope y'all will be able to read it before another 7 months have passed. I'll do my best. In the meantime, thank you to everyone who's still tagging me in things, and I'm sorry I disappear a lot and don't shower y'all with the love you deserve for it <3

Here's an incomplete mess of tags, because I do need to go do many other less fun things now.

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @whogaveyoupermission @aristocratic-otter @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @facewithoutheart @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @run-for-chamo-miles @rimeswithpurple @thewholelemon @forabeatofadrum @monbons

#wip wednesday #my writing #musical chairs #there are a lot more deleted scenes where that came from #but most are spoilers at this point #may it all someday see the light #ok it won't actually tag half of y'all #I really do have to go do other things so OH WELL I tried

[latenightdaydreams]

https://twitter.com/jorgez86/status/1786091450238926874?t=qpE0itH41pxOOlJjXdrfNg&s=19

Can you write about Konig who can't stop touching his girlfriend's boobies?

I know I'm sending a lot of requests at the same time but I had to hold myself back to not text you because I know request closed for a reason. Please don't feel obligated or overwhelmed, I just send it and it's okay if you ignore my request, because you're a just human being!❤️❤️❤️

That woman is blessed with the sorest of all backs😮‍💨 Never feel bad for sending them! 🥰🥰

Just a Few Hours (fem)

MDNI 🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, groping, dirty talk

1.1k word count

💒

.

.

Big breast was never a requirement for dating. Sure, König loved watching porn with big breasts, but he’s found all breast sizes have their perks. Plus, he can’t exactly be picky. Tall, awkward, and not exactly handsome; he had trouble pulling anyone.

When home from deployment, König tried to find some sort of peace. He would go to the local park early in the morning before it became crowded with kids and cheerful people. It was one of the few moments in his life where things felt okay. The chaos could just stop.

Little did he know you, this big breasted goddess, also felt the same way about early mornings in the park. From the corner of his eye he saw you approaching, the slight jiggle from your breasts noticeable to him. Turning his neck to see you head on, his jaw literally dropped. Underneath your loose-fitting band t, your breast bounced so perfectly.

“Hallo.” The words fell out of his mouth before he even realized it.

You looked over to see the most beautiful icy blue eyes gazing up at you as he sat on the floor by a tree.

“Hi.” You smiled so sweetly his way.

One impulsive hello sparked a full two-year relationship. König genuinely fell in love with who you are as a person, your breasts just being a massive perk imaginable. No matter the situation, König can’t keep his hands to himself.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind, but today is your friend’s wedding. König drives the both of you as he sulks about the time he has to spend away from you. One hand on the steering wheel, the other cupping your breast.

“Schatz, I’m going to go crazy being without you for a whole day.” This middle finger lightly flicks over your nipple through the fabric of your evening dress. The dress required you to not wear a bra. König, of course, didn’t mind; but now he would be a fool the whole time.

“König, I’m literally going to be right next to you the whole time.”

“Ja, but I can’t touch you.” He glances over at his hand on your breast, softly jiggling it.

“You’re too much König.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Can you blame me? You’re perfect.” He reaches his hand behind the fabric and pulls out the breast he’s been playing with. “Other one too.” He demands you to take it out.

“König, you’re driving. Someone could see.”

“I’ll drive safe…plus the windows are tinted. Come on.” He doesn’t take no for an answer, so you oblige and take out your other breast.

“Mein Gott…” Every time seeing your breasts is like the first time again.

He moves his hands over and squeezes both of your breasts before his fingers play with your nipples. He gives attention to both of them equally. You let him continue until you got close to the venue, pushing his hand away to slip your breasts back into your shirt.

“Liebling,” Köing sounds so pathetic as if you took a toy away from a whining dog.

“Stop, act normal.”

“Act normal? I always act normal.” He mumbles under his breath as he pulls into the parking lot and searches for a spot.

Once the car is parked, he unbuckles his seat belt and turns his head to you. He watches your breasts move as you take off your own seat belt. Your eyes meet his and you can see that he is just paying attention to them.

“König, my door?”

“Oh!” He gets out of the car quickly and rushes over to the other side to open the door for you. He playfully bows, “My lady…”

You laugh and step out of the car. He holds his hand out for you to grab. You both walk forward to the wedding venue. The whole wedding was hell. König was not only forced to meet new people, but he was also expected to keep his hands to himself. As the couple exchanged their first kiss as husband and wife, everyone around began to cheer.

He watches you stand, and takes the lead. You all cheer as the couple leaves the room. König leans over and whispers in your ear, “Maybe we can have a quicky before they start the reception?”

“No.” You whisper back quickly.

König rolls his eyes and just keeps clapping. Once the bride and groom leave, slowly the rows of people begin to file out of the door. With everyone clearly not minding the both of you, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back to him. Slowly his hand crept up to grasp your breasts. His fingers pinching your nipple before you swat his hand away.

He looks down at you before inching back up towards your breast, squeezing hard so you can’t move him so easily. You try to suppress your laugh by nudging him with your elbow.

“Stop!” You hiss playfully.

“Liebling, I can’t stop.” He chuckles under his breath, squeezing once more before letting go so you can exit the venue.

Walking outside, on your way to the reception König keeps his arm over your shoulder. His eyes watching your breasts bounce out the corner of his eye.

“You know, weddings are a celebration of love. I don’t see why I can’t just carry you into the bathroom and show you how much I love you.” His fingers dance in small circles just above your cleavage.

“Their love, not ours.”

“I still don’t see the issue.” His voice laced with desire as he looks around to make sure no one was looking. He slowly slips his hand into your dress and cups your breast in his hand again.

“König!”

He quickly withdraws his hand due to your tone. “Sorry…” a small smirk forms on his lips, he loves it when you get like this.

“You really can’t keep your hands to yourself for one second?” You stop talking and look up at him.

“Wha-…” König tries to hide his smirk. “I can.”

“You’re so annoying.” You huff as you turn to continue walking.

“And you’re so sexy.” He pulls you back to him. “Stop being grumpy. You never have an issue.”

“We are never at a formal occasion, König.”

He lets out a deep sigh before leaning down to kiss your lips. “Fine, I’m sorry for not listening. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Thank you…” You smile up at him, tapping your lips for another kiss.

Happily, he brings his lips back to meet yours. His muscular arms wrap around your body and grip you against his body. Feeling your breasts press against him.

“When we get home, I want you to suffocate me with your breasts.” He whispers in your ear.

“How about, I let you fuck them. Only if you’re a good boy.” You match his energy.

König’s eyes light up as they open wide, a goofy look of excitement crosses his face. “I’ll be the best boy for you.”

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #konig x you #x reader #cod smut #smut #könig x you #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x y/n

[sluttyten]

if it was just up to me I’d be on my way home by now, but I’m staying with my best friend at her boyfriend’s house, and she told me last night that she wants to sleep in and go to a local mall this morning (which doesn’t even open until 11), and then we have to stop in another city because I promised an old coworker I was close with that we’ll stop and see her since we’re going that way anyway, but now I’m like probably not getting home until late afternoon, but if I left now, or like an hour and a half ago when I woke up, I’d be home by a little bit after noon, actually earlier than that because there’s a time change somewhere in there

#I tried telling her the other day when she first mentioned the mall that I don’t really want to go #but she really wants to #and it’s kinda annoying because it’s a little bit out of our way? #like it’s the same general direction that we’re going in but not really #and also she’s gonna be up here again in like two or three weeks? she can just go then #it’s not like she needs to go she just wants to see this one store that our mall at home doesn’t have anymore #and I just want to go home 😭😭 I barely wanna stop and see my friend in the other city now #but I also really do because I want to see where she works and that’s where we’re meeting her #but also if I get home at a decent enough time I might be going out of town again tonight lol because there’s somewhere my mom wants to see #that’s like a two hour drive away from home #like damn let me just spend the entirety of my four day weekend traveling #(I’m fine with it mostly) I just hate that right now I’ve been awake for an hour and a half just waiting #at least I’ve been writing #working on yesterday’s kinktober prompt #I think I’m nearly done and then I’ll start on the one that’s supposed to be for today #I don’t even know how I’m gonna post these now that I’m a few days behind #bc if I post them all at once then I feel like they’re just not gonna get notes #but we’ll see #I’ll probably post at least the day 14 and 15 tomorrow #hopefully 16 and 17 too but since those two still need to be written and I have to work tomorrow idk what’s gonna happen

[demadogs]

a bumper sticker that says “LED headlight drivers, kill yourself”

#DO I JUST HAVE TO ACCEPT THAT IM GONNA GET A MIGRAINE EVERY TIME I DRIVE HOME FROM WORK???? #im a fucking event photographer ALL EVENTS ARE AT NIGHT some up to two hours away!!! AND YOURE BLINDING ME #i was at a red light and the car stopped across from me driving the opposite way had bright ass fucking headlights and i was turning left #AND I LITERALLY COULD NOT SEE THE MEDIAN I WAS JUST GUESSING I COULDVE EASILY CRASHED #AND THE LIGHTS HURT ME SO BAD #ive been home like half an hour and my migraine still hasnt gone away

[salt-baby]

I think the take-away from my near death experience is that I am simply unkillable

#its either laugh or cry and i choose laugh #i have become extremely cautious since then #in case this post is concerning #i honestly never felt i was in that much danger #i wasnt able to check my skin at the time even though i knew i had hives #only once i had been admitted and set up in the ER did it start to feel severe #esp after i saw my vitals #and looking at it from the ERs point of view #patient walks in after driving three hours in anaphylaxis for two of them #epipen a foot away and unused #HR 144 BP 150/100 and PMH of uncontrolled severe asthma #and also reporting difficulty swallowing and asthma #yeah okay i get it #there was a moment i decided between going into my home after a long drive or restarting the car and driving five min to the ER #thats a crossroads #i had no clue i had a life threatening allergy disorder #i thought i had a nearly gone childhood peanut allergy #good call i suppose #i did get scolded for the epipen tho #heres the mystery to me tho: where did the hypertension come from? #im normally hypotensive #bp technique wasnt ideal but not enough to cause that kind of distortion #anaphylactic shock is supposed to cause hypotension #maybe one of the many medications im on #or a unique feature of mcas #ramble over #although I'll never be done treating my medical records like an interesting puzzle #disability #chronic illness #salt baby talks