#every time i think i might get lucky and pass out for a couple days (or even hours would be nice at this point)

[forcedjuggalofication]

if my body doesn’t decide this insomnia episode is over real soon i am going to eat somebody… like please… at least pass out for more than an hour……. please i am begging u…….. i am delirious and erratic and >:’( ,,,,,,,, pls sleep me soon

#every time i think i might get lucky and pass out for a couple days (or even hours would be nice at this point) #it turns out just to be a 30 minute - 2 hours max light doze #the post insomnia 16+ hour nap is gonna slap so hard whenever it comes i just know it #hope i never have to do an episode like this ever again but i know damn well it’ll happen again next time i move apartments or am under- #unexpected/unfamiliar stress #insomnia is Not Fun - but hey i am definitely way funnier when i’m severely sleep deprived #ya win some ya lose some #gonna try to nap again #50/50 it’ll either be a light doze again or i’ll finally get my ridonkulous 16 hour post imsomnia nap #insomnia

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

[polaroidpascal]

paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol (picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week. 

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them. 

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers. 

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded. 

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show. 

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music. 

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest. 

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion. 

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well. 

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal  // I wanna feel you from the inside  // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you. 

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there. 

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.  

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right. 

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down. 

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly. 

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink. 

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side. 

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart. 

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself. 

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth. 

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod. 

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp. 

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed. 

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek. 

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust. 

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it. 

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you. 

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute. 

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes. 

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

#100 followers #100 followers special #thank you all so much !! #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou one shot #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #the voices keep getting louder and louder and louder

[imagining-in-the-margins]

☕️ CM Meet Cute Fics 📚

Hey friends! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - You are appreciated and the diversity only makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Meet Cute Challenge! 🤗

@emberfrostlovesloki 's Masterlist of Entries: This lovely prolific writer has entered several fics, which include Hotch/Reader, Emily/Reader, and Spencer/Reader fics! Check out their page for even more!

P.S. At the end of this post, I included all my fics for this challenge!

SFW S.R./GN!Reader

Heart Language by @foxy-eva: Spencer has a crush on his doctor (and the feeling is mutual)

Warmth by @cecedownbad: A mystery man stumbled on to you, his gestures alone changing the dim scenery into a bright fantasy.

And in the Beginning... by @milla984: After spending a day at D.C.’s multifandom convention, Spencer spills his coffee on Reader.

(Not So) Stupid Things by @railingsofsorrow: Reader is a detective on a case the FBI is called to work on. While trying to make a good first impression, they forget that Spencer doesn't shake hands.

Frights & Fractures by @therealmsdelulu: Spencer accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and Reader, a scare actor, breaks character to help.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

SFW S.R./Fem!Reader

The Perfect Seat by @/foxy-eva: Reader's never liked crowded trains until a handsome stranger fell right into her lap.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Coffee Caramels by @007reid: Reader sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there's a technical glitch.

Every Single Day by @astrophileous: When his daughter demands to hear the story of how Spencer and Reader met, he must oblige.

War and Peace & Coffee by @drgenius-reid: Spencer meets a lovely stranger in a coffee shop where they read together.

NSFW S.R./Fem!Reader

In Full Bloom by @/foxy-eva: A random interaction between Spencer Reid and Reader leads to weeks of longing and yearning until they decide they have spent enough time being strangers

Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.

Elevator Pitch by @reiderwriter: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive man sharing the metal box of death has an interesting idea about how to can pass the time.

And for my Next Trick... by @reidmotif: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.

Assorted Fics (A.H., D.M., E.P., T.L., P.G.)

What a Ride by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Hotch/GN!Reader] Whilst on a bus ride to work, Reader gets knocked into a very handsome strangers lap.

Midnight by @foxy-eva: [NSFW, E.P./Fem!Reader] Emily is the most stunning woman Reader has ever seen, so she makes sure their night together doesn’t end anytime soon.

Falling for Me Already? by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Derek/Fem!Reader] It's Reader's first day of work, and her heel breaks. Thankfully, Derek is there to catch her.

Supervisory Special Agent by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Derek/Fem!Reader] Reader already met Derek, but neither of them realize it for a ridiculously long time because she has much bigger issues to worry about.

October by @gaelic-symphony: [SFW, Temily] The couple arrives in a couple's costume.

Adding It All Up by @masterwords: [SFW, Hotch/William LaMontagne Jr.] Hotch follows Reid and Jack into a haunted house. Inside he meets a ghost and stumbles right into some unexpected arms.

Collision by @codename-mom: [Gen Fic, Hotch & Penelope] A brand-new BAU is forming but there is still someone missing. The team masterpiece: a technical analyst.

Co-Creator NSFW Entries (S.R./Fem!Reader)

Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much for Spencer (he’s into it).

Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

All Legs: Tall!Reader. Spencer meets a woman at an event and finds he really wants to be under her heels.

Co-Creator SFW Entries (S.R./Fem!Reader)

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Porcelain: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the cafe. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.

Baggage Claim: Autistic!Reader is having a hard time at the airport.

Mister Spencer: Reader has a crush on her child’s teacher.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Studious Shadow: Reader’s crush won’t stop avoiding her at work and she thinks he might hate her.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Happy Reading!

Is your entry missing? DM me and I'll add you!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid smut #derek morgan #emily prentiss #temily #tara lewis #masterlist #cm writing challenge #criminal minds challenge #meet cute

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 5)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry and Y/N spend the weekend together in Chicago

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4

Word Count: 3.8k

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

“So, what are we going to see in the city?” You ask Harry. You’re both on the couch eating fruit, since Harry insisted you needed some sort of snack to hold you over until lunch.

“Well, first, we should swing by your hotel. Figured you might want to get changed,” he replies. You laugh and nod in agreement. While you wouldn’t mind living in Harry’s comfy clothes doused in his scent, you know that going in public, with him, wearing his clothes, is admittedly a terrible idea.

“Then obviously some lunch,” he continues. “And after that, I have no idea. Maybe see where the day takes us?”

“I like that plan,” you answer. Normally you like to have everything totally scheduled out, but you’re excited to see what experiences might happen naturally.

“We can keep your things in the car while we’re out and stop back here to drop them off on our way to the arena later,” he adds.

“Am I staying here tonight?” You inquire.

He pauses, trying to find the right words. “I would like for you to stay,” he finally says. “It’s just, you’re only hours out of a drop. And you said that hasn’t happened for a long time. I would like you to stay close to me in case something happens. And uhm, my alpha is fairly attached to your omega at the moment.” Harry blushes and his eyes look down at his fingers as he finishes his sentence.

“Harry?” you say, and his gaze meets yours. “I’d love to stay.”

His anxious face instantly morphs into one of excitement and he says, “Fantastic! Okay, I’m going to call a car to take us to your hotel and we can start our adventure.”

“It’s only a couple of blocks, we could walk it.”

At this he seems nervous again and he quickly explains, “It’s probably best if we drive. We’ll be more under the radar that way, and I don’t necessarily want to be seen in public too much.”

“Oh, right, of course. That totally makes sense.” There’s an insecure part of your brain telling you that it’s because he doesn’t want to be seen with you, just some average nobody, but you tell that voice to shut up. Harry would never be so callous, so shallow. He simply wants his privacy.

A few minutes later you’re back in your quiet hotel room. Harry is waiting in the car, so you quickly get changed and freshen up. You spray on our scent blockers and are disappointed that you no longer smell like Harry. He put on blockers before leaving his hotel as well so now it will be hours before you’ll catch his scent again. If you’re lucky. You remind yourself this whole situation is temporary, and you should take what you get.

Your belongings are mostly packed so it only takes a minute to get everything together. When you reenter the car you let out the breath you’d been holding while separated from Harry. You admit to yourself you are still feeling the effects of the drop, and you allow yourself to revel in the presence of an alpha. Normally the idea that you need to rely on an alpha for anything would make you mad, but not right now. Not when that alpha greets you with a shy smile as you slide into your seat next to him. And especially not when that alpha reaches over so your hands are resting close enough to just barely touch.

It's a bit of a drive to the restaurant Harry picked out, and you pass the time making small talk. You discuss your families, hobbies, favorite vacation spots, anything you can think of. Nothing is all that crazy or interesting, but Harry is locked in on every word you say. It makes you feel warm inside, having his full attention and knowing he truly wants to hear what you have to say.

Harry is so absorbed in the conversation that even he is surprised when the car stops outside the restaurant. He gets out, quickly moving around the car to open your door for you and lead you inside. The diner he’s chosen is lowkey, giving hole in the wall vibes, and you think it’s perfect.

It’s not empty, but the crowd there doesn’t bat an eye as you two walk in. A quick glance around the room shows that you’re the youngest people there by far. Everyone is engaged in conversation or reading the newspaper or a book they’ve brought with them. It makes you feel comfortable, relaxed, and you know you’re going to enjoy this lunch.

You’re seated together at a table towards the back, and a waiter comes over to take your drink orders. After he walks away it’s quiet for a moment, both you and Harry reading through the menu. He comes back a few minutes later to take your food orders. Once he leaves again you fold your hands on the table in front of you and look at Harry.

He’s sitting the same way, hands folded just inches from yours, and his eyes are already on you.

“So,” he hesitantly begins. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Like, of yours?”

He laughs before saying, “No, just, in general. But I am also curious what your favorite of mine is.”

You think for a moment, and you catch him chuckling and your very serious thinking face. “I guess all-time favorite song might be ‘Annie’s Song’ by John Denver. It was my parents’ wedding song, so we played it a lot at home. Makes me think of them.” You smile and think again for a moment before saying, “And my favorite song of yours, well, that’s harder to choose. I think maybe ‘Canyon Moon’. It’s just so fun, and upbeat. It’s the first one that really hooked me on your music.”

“That is a fun one, yeah. Kind of bummed it’s off the setlist if I’m honest. And I too love a little John Denver occasionally.”

The discussion on music lasts until your food is placed on the table. The delicious smell alerts you to how hungry you are, and you immediately dig in. Conversation stops again so the two of you can eat.

As Harry settles the bill (which you attempt to help pay for, but he quickly denies) he says, “We’ve got about an hour before we need to head back to the hotel and get ready. There’s a park nearby. What do you say about a little stroll?”

“That sounds perfect,” you reply.

He stays close to you as you walk the couple blocks to the park. His hand reaches out towards you multiple times but he pulls it back like he’s afraid to make contact. It keeps your mind spinning, wondering what’s he’s thinking when he does this. Is it an unconscious gesture? Is it a protective one? Does he just want to be touching you the way that you want to be touching him?

Once in the park he leads you to a bench by a small lake. The bushes grant you both some privacy from the few other people who are walking nearby.

“So,” he says timidly. “How are you feeling today? After the drop and everything.”

You take a moment to assess in order to answer truthfully. “Honestly, I feel pretty good right now. Like, better than I have in weeks. I think my omega really needed that break.”

“You said your meds lost their potency right? And that’s been going on for weeks then, at least since the first show you came to. How have you been coping with all of that? Do you nest at all?”

“I tried nesting in the past, but it never brought the peace people said it would. I guess cause most people are betas now so it’s harder to get alpha or other omega scents. And without those nests aren’t as comforting.”

“That has to be frustrating. I’m sorry it’s so difficult for omegas. I wish things were different for you guys, I truly do.”

“Thanks. Me too. Can I ask, why do you keep your alpha status a secret?”

“I guess because people have certain views of alphas. They think we’re mean and controlling and yea, a lot of alphas are these days. I just didn’t want people to judge me before getting to know me. Plus, some record labels and managers don’t want to work with alphas. Say they’re too unpredictable or difficult.”

“Seems like it’s tough for alphas too.”

“Yea, but at least we’re safe. No one tries to cross us or control us. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your free will taken away by an alpha command.”

“It’s definitely not fun,” you say, shivering at the memory of being frozen and silenced just by a knothead alphas words.

Noticing your slight distress, Harry places his hand on your knee and says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up, I know you have bad memories with that.”

You’re instantly soothed by him, and you reach out to place your hand on top of his. You have no idea where the courage to touch him like that comes from, and you’re about to pull away when he flips his hand until your palms are touching and he’s able to intertwine his fingers with yours.

The sound of your purring is sudden and surprising. It’s not something that happens often, and you almost cut it off, but you see the smile that breaks out on Harry’s face. You sit there, holding hands, and purring softly. Neither of you tries to start a conversation, just enjoying the moment.

Harry’s phone ringing brings you both back to reality. His driver is on the line, reminding Harry that it’s time to head back in order to stay on schedule. He lets go of your hand as you leave the bench, and though you’re disappointed, you remind yourself of the media frenzy that would ensue if Harry was caught holding hands with a girl.

You’re especially soothed when he reaches out for your hand again once in the privacy of the car. Just like the earlier drive, you get to know each other better, this time discussing favorite books at length.

He insists on carrying your luggage into the hotel for you, and letting you have the first shower. You’re in the living room finishing your hair when Harry walks out of the bathroom, having finished his own shower. He’s wrapped in a towel, water dripping off his hair and down his chest. You pray that your suppressants still work well enough to at least prevent unwanted slick production. Because you would literally die of embarrassment if the telltale scent of honey filled the room.

“Sorry, so sorry, forgot to grab clothes,” he says as he dashes into the bedroom to grab an outfit from the dresser. He jogs back into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. You let out the breath you’ve been holding and quickly reel in your thoughts to ensure your face isn’t still beet red when he comes back out.

You force yourself to focus on perfecting your hair in an effort to erase the image of a practically naked Harry. Or at least, erase temporarily. While you’re in his presence. It works, because by the time he comes out again, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, you’ve fully contained your thoughts.

“Car will be here in five minutes, you almost ready?”

“Yup, just gotta grab my phone,” you say before walking back into the bedroom to get the phone from where it’s been charging. Harry’s scent is strongest here, likely because he’s been sleeping there for weeks, plus he was broadcasting his scent the night before during your drop. It’s so potent that you almost feel dizzy. You shake your head in an attempt to clear it, quickly get the phone, and rejoin Harry in the living room.

He's distracted during the drive over, checking updates on his phone that he’d been ignoring during the day. It’s hectic but organized at the venue. There’s so much to be done but it’s a well-oiled team and everyone does their job well. You hang out in Harry’s dressing room for the most part, wanting to be out of the way.

There’s a brief moment after Harry is ready and before he needs to go on stage, and you need to find your place in the crowd. You’re finally alone again, and the two of you are standing facing each other. He reaches out to hold both your hands between his and he says, “I have another question for you.”

You’ve been asking each other questions all day, most lighthearted, some serious. But you can tell by his tone that this may be the most important one yet.

You meet his eyes, encouraging him to go on, and after a moment of nervous hesitation he says, “I’ve really like spending time with you. I’ve known for awhile that my alpha had formed a connection with your omega, and I thought that’s where my feelings for you came from. But after today I know that I just like you. You’re funny, and smart, and beautiful. So, uhm, I was wondering, will you go on a date? With me?”

You’re speechless for a moment, so you nod your head yes while trying to process everything he just said.

“Can I take you out tomorrow morning for brunch?” He continues.

Finally, you find your voice and say, “Yes, Harry, that sounds perfect.”

The brightest, most boyish smile spreads across his face. Harry’s about to speak again but there’s a knock on the door and a voice telling him he needs to leave the room in one minute.

Harry quickly says, “Can I scent you? Before you go out there?” You again nod yes, knowing that he needs this, needs to protect you in this way even though you’ll be in a VIP section with plenty of security.

Plus, you’ve decided that you’d have to be insane to ever say no when he asks that question. One of his large hands cups the side of your neck while his nose moves to the scent gland on the opposite side. It slides against your skin, and you’re surrounded by his mouthwatering smell. He presses one gentle kiss directly near your mating spot before he pulls back, gives you one last dazzling smile, and walks out the door.

Jada walks in to find you still standing, dazed, in the middle of the room. “Need a minute?” she asks with a knowing smirk.

“Just, uhm, gonna use the…bathroom, real quick,” you stutter out before fleeing through the door to the attached restroom. You quickly take some deep breaths and grab toilet paper to clean up the slick that had escaped. Thankfully you’d held it in until Harry left, and Jada, being a beta, would be none the wiser. Still, you need to pull yourself together and get your desire under control before you embarrass yourself.

Once you’re ready she leads you to the VIP section. You feel amazing, completely opposite from the night prior and you know that you owe it all to Harry. Not once during the entire show do you feel dizzy, or anxious, or any of the negative emotions you’ve been feeling for weeks. Instead, you feel electric, especially during the handful of moments when Harry’s eyes find yours in the crowd, sharing a special look with you.

You’re screaming along with all the other fans as Harry runs out of the venue. Jada then leads you out to the car the two of you will be taking back to the hotel. The ten-minute drive turns into almost thirty with all the post-concert traffic.

Back at the hotel, you knock on the door to Harry’s room. Technically it’s also yours now, and yes, you do have a key, but it still feels weird just walking in while you know he’s there. It takes a moment but finally he’s opening the door for you. As you take in his appearance, you realize you made the right decision to knock. His hair is, once again, wet, he has pajama pants on and is quickly throwing on a shirt. Obviously he’s just showered again, and you know you would not have survived seeing him with any less clothes on.

“There you are,” he says, smiling and pulling you in for a hug as the door closes behind you. For a moment you’re surprised, but quickly melt into the embrace.

Before pulling away he says, “Why don’t you change into some comfy clothes, and we can put on a movie.” You head to the bedroom, grabbing your own set of pajamas before changing and washing your face. Once you feel clean and comfortable you join Harry in the living room.

He’s already laid out blankets on the couch and pulled up the latest Rom Com on the TV. After confirming that you want to watch it, he presses play and you snuggle under your blanket.

You try to pay attention to the movie, truly, you do. But Harry’s right there, sitting next to you, looking perfectly cozy and domestic, not a single scent blocker covering the delicious smell that’s started to feel like home to you.

It’s not surprising when you start to subconsciously shift closer and closer to him. He notices the small movements, and without hesitation, wraps and arm around you and pulls you close to him. He adjusts the blankets so that you’re tucked in before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

Feeling safer and more content than you have in possibly your entire adult life, you fully relax. The next thing you know, you’re being gently placed into the bed. Sensing that you’re awake, Harry smooths down your hair and says, “Get some sleep, love,” as he pulls the covers over you.

***

Waking up with Harry’s arm slung around your middle is unexpected, but entirely welcomed. Everything feels so warm, so safe. His arm unconsciously tightens around you, and you snuggle deeper into the embrace.

It isn’t long before Harry wakes up, stretching out beside you and saying, “good morning.” His husky morning voice has you practically melting, but you still manage a “good morning” in reply.

Neither of you move for a while, choosing to lay there holding each other for as long as possible. It’s nice, once again feels rather domestic, and you have to stop yourself from imagining this happening every day. Your mating spot practically tingles at the thought of you and Harry bonded to each other, raising pups together in your home.

An alarm rings on Harry’s phone, thankfully stopping your daydream from getting too out of control. You take turns getting ready before heading to the car for your first official date.

Brunch is absolutely perfect. Harry had booked a private room to ensure fans and paparazzi wouldn’t be able to spy on your date. He steps away to use the restroom at one point, and you think about how it’s going so far. It’s just like any first date you’ve ever been on; better even.

It’s almost easy to forget that he’s this world-famous popstar. When it’s the two of you together, focusing on each other, he really just becomes the man of your dreams. The fact that he’s a respectful and gentle alpha is the icing on the cake.

After brunch you head back to the hotel to repack your bags before flying home. Harry watches sadly as you prepare to leave him. You ignore your own feelings for the moment, not wanting to cry in front of him. But truthfully, the fact that you have no idea when you’ll see him again is borderline devastating.

Once you’re packed and ready to go, Harry pulls you in for a hug. You stand there holding each other for a minute before he pulls back. You look up at his face, mere inches from yours, and note how his eyes are looking between your own eyes and your lips. His hands slide up your arms, your neck, until they’re cupping your face. He leans in and presses one simple kiss to your lips.

His eyes meet yours again, silently asking if that was alright. You can’t help but lean back in, giving him a couple kisses of your own.

It doesn’t go any further, and that alone brings you some peace. He’s not just doing this all to get into your pants the way many alphas would. Honestly, this whole weekend with him feels more like puppy love than anything.

 “Would it be alright if I scented you before you left?” Harry asks before adding “Since you’ll be at the crowded airport and everything, it might be safer if you smelled like you have an alpha.”

Some omegas might find this controlling, overwhelming, overprotective, but you know that’s not his intention at all. So you agree, and close your eyes as he leans in to scent you once more. It’s electric having him so close to you. It takes all your self-control to hold back a needy whine when he presses a kiss to your scent gland.  

“One more thing,” he says after pulling away. You watch in confusion as he walks back into the bedroom. He comes back out a minute later holding his green Pleasing sweatshirt. He hands it to you, and you can immediately tell he’d scented that as well. Without hesitation you slip in on, catching the satisfied smirk on his face as you do so.

You get a text from Jada letting you know a car is there to take you to the airport. Harry pulls you in for one last kiss, and having to leave his embrace is nearly physically painful for you. After saying a final, quiet goodbye, you grab your bag and walk out of the room.

All the stress of traveling seems miniscule compared to separating from the man who is quickly becoming one of your favorite people, not to mention is the alpha your omega seems to crave.

You arrive home pretty late that evening. The last thing you want to do is wash away Harry’s scent, but you desperately need a shower after an afternoon of travel. Thankfully you have his sweatshirt to burrow into.

You sleep peacefully that night, still surrounded by Harry’s scent, knowing the last text you received before bed was a message from Harry saying, “Sleep tight, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! So sorry for the long delay between chapters! Hoping to get the next chapter out much sooner!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

[jjzvc]

HALLOW-S/CREAM!

⬭　　⊦　﹒[MATURE] ! -> one of your work colleagues was hosting a halloween party. your boyfriend choso is extremely overprotective, so lucky for the both of you, plus ones are welcome. there were a lot more things he wanted than to party with you, though..　

⬭　　⊦　﹒[CONTENT WARNINGS] ! -> fem reader x choso, panty stuffing (? idk you gag him with them..) anal fingering, riding, dom reader + sub choso

　　　　　　　　　　—

　　　　　　TEXTS WITH "cho 🩷"

Y.N- chosiiiii

C.K- yes baby? everything ok?

Y.N- there's a party for work, and you can bring plus ones, so i thought you might want to go?

C.K- you know i dont like parties my love, but if you want me to go i will. whos hosting it?

Y.N- i'm not sure, i think it's a costume party so i thought you would want to come. you dont have to though🫂

C.K- no i will. im almost home, start getting ready so we can leave on time. i love you

Y.N- i love you

　　　　　　　　　　—

You shut off your phone and set it down on the bedside table. You got up from the bed and made way to your shared closet with your boyfriend. You had the perfect costume in mind, waiting for this day. You couldn't wait for him to see how sexy you were.

You pulled the classic slutty bunny costume out of its bag and headed to the bathroom so you could do your hair, makeup and of course get dressed.

You decided on a simple smokey eye with a nude lip. Little did you know, this would all be smudged off in the best way possible. You put your hair in two half up pigtails and styled your curtain bangs to perfectly lay on your face. You heard keys jingling at the door, indicating your significant other was finally home.

"Hi baby! I'm in the bathroom!" You yelled from the room. He walked into the room to put his things down and he sat on the bed, manspreading with his elbows on his knees. He gazed at you as you were styling your hair, admiring every square inch of your perfect body.

"So who are you dressing up for like this?" He teased, walking toward you and putting his hands on your waist. He dug his face into your neck, kissing it until he reached your collarbone. "You of course," you giggled, putting your head on his with a grin. "You're usually such a shy boy, whats all this confidence? Not used to it." You added. He put his head up and looked at you in the mirror. "Could just be an act, you'll never know.." he said, kissing your cheek and walking out of the bathroom, toward the closet. You chuckled and kept straightening your hair.

"I don't really have any costumes babe, what am I supposed to wear?" He shouted from the other side of the master bedroom. "Just look hot, gotta be the best looking couple there." You shouted back. "I think you're gonna be carrying me."

"Not a chance," Choso said. "You're so gorgeous, you look like a goddess compared to me. Blessed by Athena herself." He cooed. "Alright, alright whatever.. are you ready? Let's get going." You beamed, grabbing your purse and phone. "Right behind you!" He giggled, slipping his prada boots on. "You sure you dont wanna bring comfier shoes and some socks, just in case?"

"I think I'll be okay, i'm sure we won't be there for long." You smiled, looking back at him. He loved walking behind you, because he could be as perverted as he wanted to. Staring at the way you swayed, making your way to the car. She opened the door for you, insisting you would drive.

"What? I can't drive with heels." You snickered. "Okayyyy.." choso whined, in a teasing way. He didn't actually mind driving, he didn't mind doing anything for you.

Time passed and you arrived to where the party was. Choso stepped out of the car and rushed to the other side to open the door for you. "Beautiful girls first~" he insisted. "You're so cheesy." You giggled, grabbing his hand as you walked in.

"Welcome Y.N! And I'm assuming this is boyfriend? Welcome, Y.N talks about you a LOT!" Your co-worker exclaimed. "Oh, Cho, this is Winter, she's my co-worker. "It's very nice to meet you," winter said, putting her hand out. Choso awkwardly nodded and walked away with you. He's a very antisocial guy, especially when it comes to big functions with people he doesn't know.

An hour passed by, you were having a lot of fun with your friends as Choso watched you to the side. The both of you were dancing earlier, but he got embarrassed and decided to just grab a drink and sat down. You sat down next to him and lied your head on his shoulder. "What's up baby?" You asked, looking at him through your hair. "Come." He said, grabbing your hand and heading upstairs to the first empty room. It was literally Winter's bedroom, but he didn't care.

"Cho-" he cut you off with a deep passionate kiss, pinning you down to the bed. You kissed back, of course, but you had no clue what he was up to. He pawed at your bra, which is when you caught on. He was getting jealous-horny. You pulled the straps of your bra down, letting him do the rest.

He stopped kissing you for a moment and slowly stripped you, kissing and leaving marks on his favorite parts of you—your collarbone, breasts, stomach, thighs, neck, etc. "Choso.. you can't do that.. my costume will show it." You whispered. He didnt care at all. Matter a fact, he wanted everyone to know you were all his. He started back at the top, kissing and licking at your nipples. His tongue danced around one of them while his hand did the work on the other. You rolled your hips and opened your mouth, almost letting a soft moan escape your lips. Suddenly, he pulled his mouth and hands away. "Why'd you stop?" You pouted.

"Fuck me." He said boldly, staring at you with his sharp purple eyes. You stared back into his eyes as your realized—you're in control now. "Bad idea, pretty boy~" you cooed, shoving him down on his back. He bit his lip in excitement for what you had in mind. You pulled off his slutty black compression t-shirt and gazed at his chest. You began to stroke his chest as you licked the hair on his stomach, leading to his member. You stroked his cock outline through his gray sweatpants. Of course, as his s/o, you knew he doesn't last long. So, you decided to tease him. You were in control, after all.

As he already stripped you completely, he was staring at your bare body, feeling his cock rise harder and harder until it began to ache. You finally pulled down his pants and his angry length jumping at you. "All excited for me, hmm?" You teased, swirling your tongue at his tip while your hands played with his balls and base. Choso was very vocal, so you had to find a way to shut him up. Perfect, your black, lace panties were hanging off the bed. You swiftly grabbed them and stuffed them into his mouth. You found it quite embarrassing, but he absolutely loved it. "Gotta be quiet so they dont find us~" you told him.

You decided it was time to do what he brought you up here for, so you got on top of him, facing each other. You put his length inside of yourself and cocked your head back in pleasure. You hadn't taken him fully in a while, so it was a bit of a surprise. As you were riding him, the two of you heard footsteps. Of course, Choso didn't care, the thought of being caught with you turned him on. But you certainly did care. He wanted you to keep going, but you quickly got up to lock the door. You weren't very quiet though, your high heels clacked loudly on the wood floor.

Choso made inaudible muffled noises, signaling you to keep riding him, of course you would eventually, but you wanted to tease him to see how long he could last.

You took the dirty panties out of his mouth to let him speak. "Y/N.. whyd ya stop.." he babbled, out of breath and drool seeping from the corners of his mouth. "Well i had to lock the door baby, but why should i keep going, hm?" You winked, stroking his face and giving him a quick peck. "You look so pretty like this, yknow? I should just leave you like that. Wont let you cum or 'nun," You stuffed the panties back into his mouth and flipped him over. "You dont get to cum till i say so, 'kay?" He groaned as you grabbed his hands and cuffed them with yours. With your free hand, you took some of your own juices as a natural lube, since there wasnt any time to rummage around Winter's room. Not like she'd have some, anyway.

You pumped two of your fingers inside of him and his whole body jolted. You quickly moved them in and out and watched him squirm and try escape your strong grasp. "Don't run away, you know you want it~" you teased, still shoving your long fingers in him.

After a while, you were getting a bit bored. You flipped him back over to make sure he didn't release. "Good boy," you cooed. "I think you deserve a treat after that." You lied on the bed and spread your legs, letting him to do whatever he wants to you. You began to play with yourself for a small while until he slammed into you. A loud shriek came from you and he quickly put his hand on your mouth to muffle it. "Shut up, they're gonna hear us." He said with furrowed brows. He was sweating a ton, it was funny seeing him try to be dominant.

You're aware, although barely over the sounds of your own weak whimpers and long, needy moans, that he’s cursing under his breath, panting and growling softly. “See, good girl, you can take it.” Watching as your eyes water and body twitches makes his own cock throb.

He noticed you were getting closer and closer to your climax. He pulled out and began to swallow you whole. “Cum for me please, I wanna taste it, cum baby, please.” He was a sloppy mess, your juices all over him. “Cum all over my face, please I wanna feel it.” He knew how to get his way by begging. You released all over him as he lolled his tongue out to catch what he could, kissed your thighs, and got on the bed to lay beside you.

As you were catching your breath, you realized the music had stopped a while ago. People were banging on the door, trying to force it open.

"WHO THE FUCK IS HAVING SEX IN MY ROOM!!!!!!!"

　　　　　　　　　　—

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR! thank you for reading my first ever fic! i hope to grow in terms of writing skill and also readers! ♡ yezi

#choso kamo #jjk choso #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso smut #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu choso #female reader

[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone diner au: the day John Dory took off part one

this au does not belong to me, it belongs to @bzjohndory its gonna have to be multiple parts bc i write too much apparently

Business was slow, it was a hard winter and most trolls didn't leave their pods unless they had to. Bruce was the one to suggest it, knowing his brother hadn't had a day off in seven years. They all had special days that they got off like birthdays or anniversaries, except for John Dory. He didn't take days off, he worked open to close seven days a week. Bruce brought it up with others, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere without back up from their younger brothers. Bruce talked with Clay in between orders on the line. “I'm just saying, we haven't been that busy these past few weeks so I think he can just take a day off at least. We're all responsible enough to take care of the diner while he's gone.” Bruce said as he pulled some fries out of the fryer, portioning them on a plate and passing it to Clay. “Yeah but how do you plan on making him? We've tried making him before and he literally spent the entire day in the diner, working on other stuff ." Clay wondered as he finished plating a couple burgers, putting them in the window to be ran. At that moment, Floyd came into the back and leaned against the wall. “You good Flo?" Clay asked as he worked on the next order. Floyd nodded and held up a thumbs up but they noticed how his hand shook. Bruce threw some fries on a plate and slid a milk crate over to Floyd. “Sit down and have a snack. And while you're back here I wanna talk to you about something." Bruce said, handing the plate of fries to Floyd as he sat on the milk crate. Floyd nodded and started eating the fries while still leaning with his back against the wall. After a few moments of no orders coming in, Bruce crouched down next to Floyd. “Feel better?" Bruce asked while rubbing his back. “Yeah, I skipped breakfast this morning so I started to get the shakes." Floyd chuckled, placing the empty plate on the floor. Clay grabbed some dirty dishes they had on the line and grabbed the plate for the floor, taking them to the dish room. “So before you go back up there, I wanna talk to you about this thought I had. Clay thinks I won't be able to do it. I won't be able to do it by myself, I'll need all of your guys' help." Bruce said nonchalantly, watching for JD to be walking around. “What's up? I'm sure I can help somehow." Floyd said as he pulled his money out of the pocket on his apron. “I wanna get JD to take a day off. He hasn't taken a day off since he got ownership of the diner. If he had his way, we'd still be open on Christmas, and he would totally run this entire place by himself if he had to. He deserves it, he's kept this place afloat, put each of us through college and is here every goddamn day. This isn't gonna be like the last time, he's not gonna be allowed back in here until the next day.” Bruce said, looking Floyd in the eyes telling that he is completely serious about this. Clay came back in with clean dishes and began setting them up on the line. “I think he's crazy if he thinks he's going to get John to do it. He practically lives here, I don't think I've actually seen his place.” Clay said, placing plates in their proper spots. "Yeah but if we work together, I'm sure John will listen to us. You guys don't see him on the floor as much as I do. He's constantly moving, like if he stops, he'll pass out. Sometimes he shakes too. And Bruce is right, he's more than earned a day off, heck a week, we'll be lucky if we get one day.” Floyd said as he sorted his money, putting it back into his book. "I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it or need it. I'm saying that we might have to actually tie him down to get him out of here. He's not going to like the idea.” Clay said, cleaning up their prep area.  "What are you guys talking about?” Branch said through the server window. Bruce stood up and motioned for Branch to come back there. Branch walked back onto the grill line, confused.

#trolls #trolls 3 #brozone #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls bruce #trolls john dory #branch trolls #fluff with angst #just like the tiniest bit of angst #idk how to write #idk how to tag this #jd being a softy

[justabigassnerd]

Deployments Suck

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x daughter!reader

Word count - 3,391

Warnings - injuries, hospitals, mentions of death, mentions of Goose, panic attack

Summary - while on a deployment, your dad gets injured in an eerily similar way to your grandfather

A/N - whaddup it's another fic from yours truly! This was another request sent in by an anon so I hope you like it and I did your idea justice! I have a fair number of fics to write but I know y'all also like my 'Hangman junior' fics so I think I might alternate between fics for that and my requests just to keep things balanced. Anyways I'll stop rambling, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

Being raised in a military household, deployments were no stranger to you. It didn’t mean you liked them. You hated them with every fibre of your being. It meant that for however long the Navy saw fit, your dad would be risking his life out there and you never knew if he was alive or not until you got his occasional messages or if you were lucky a phone call.

This deployment was no different. Your dad had come home one day with a glum look on his face, telling you he was going to be deployed for a couple of months. On the day he was deployed, you, like most families, went with your dad and Maverick to the dock to see him off where he gave you a large bear hug and told you to be good for Maverick as since the two made up, any deployment Rooster went on, he made sure you stayed with Maverick. You had watched as your dad disappeared into the sea of Navy personnel and boarded the carrier that would take him to god knows where. You had cried as the carrier left the dock while Maverick gave you a tight hug before he gently took you away and back to his house.

The days that passed while your dad was away felt like they were years long. School dragged on forever and you’d have little energy to do anything when you made it back to Maverick and Penny’s house. Maverick would always keep you up to date with what he was told about Bradley’s mission, making sure you knew your dad was safe. He’d always let you know when your dad contacted him, letting Maverick know when he was free so he could call you. Maverick saw how you hid your sadness from your dad, promising him that you were doing okay and that you were getting on well at school. After every phone call, Maverick would sit with you and tell you it’s okay to tell your dad you miss him, but you’d always shake your head and tell him you didn’t want him to worry about you.

“Sweetheart. He misses you too. It’s never easy being apart from family.” Maverick would always say as he held you while you fought back tears. He’d then usually do something to try to take your mind off what was upsetting you by taking you out on his motorbike despite Penny’s objections and he’d buy the both of you ice cream and you’d eat it as you watched the waves crashing against the shore. It helped to ease your mind for a little and you always appreciated Maverick’s efforts. As time went on you started to feel a little better. You still missed your dad like crazy, but Maverick, Penny, and Amelia made life a little easier and you knew that each passing day was one day closer to your dad coming home. One day, you were at school, tapping your pen against your notebook mindlessly as you thought about the question you were reading on the board when one of the office staff opened the door to your classroom and stepped in while apologising to the teacher for the disruption.

“I need y/n Bradshaw to come with me, please.” All eyes fell on you as a crescendo of ‘ooh’ erupted from your classmates as your teacher silenced them quickly.

“y/n, bring all your stuff with you.” The receptionist says as you go to stand up, making you move to scoop all of your books into your bag as you follow her out of the classroom, ignoring the whispers of your classmates as you go. You follow the receptionist to the school office where Maverick is standing, a worried expression on his face.

“Mav, is everything okay?” The innocence of your question and the worry on your face made his eyes instantly grow misty, fighting the tears back even more as he glances over at the receptionist, silently asking for some privacy. The second the receptionist is out of sight; Maverick turns back to you taking a deep breath before he talks.

“y/n, it’s your dad.” Your heart plummeted into your stomach at his words and all Maverick could see at that moment was the same expression he saw from Carole when he had to tell her about Goose.

“What happened?” You asked instantly, worry clawing at your stomach as Maverick gestured for you to follow him. He doesn’t miss you glancing back at the school and then back at him.

“I’ve got you excused for a few days so don’t worry about that. We’ll head to the hospital and explain everything on the way.” Maverick says quickly as he leads you out to Penny’s car that she let him take the moment he told her what was going on. As you get in the car, Maverick explains that not even half an hour ago he got a call from Cyclone informing him that Bradley had been in an accident. He told you how your dad got caught in a jet wash and went into a spin where he was forced to eject but the canopy hadn’t quite cleared because of the spin. The second Maverick got the call he was sprinting out of Top Gun, going to tell Penny what was happening before coming straight to your school after Penny told him to take her car. Maverick continued to explain that while he didn’t know the severity of Bradley’s injuries, he knew he was being brought to the hospital on base. Maverick glanced over at you occasionally as he spoke, and he saw your eyes shining with tears as you processed everything that he was telling you. Maverick was also trying his hardest to fight back the memories of Goose as he drove. What Cyclone had described to Maverick was way too close to what happened with Goose and Maverick was terrified that Bradley was going to meet a similar fate. Despite the surging memories of his best friend and worry for his godson, Maverick was trying to stay strong for your sake because he knew you needed someone to lean on right now and like he did for Carole and Bradley all those years ago, he would do the same for you. When you make it to the hospital, Maverick finds a place to park and the two of you climb out of the car.

The smell of disinfectant was pungent when you walked through the automatic doors of the hospital, making your nose wrinkle instinctively. You stuck to Maverick’s side as he approached the front desk, fear chewing on your stomach as you glance around the hospital seeing doctors and nurses rushing around.

“We’re here for Lieutenant Bradshaw.” Maverick says the second you reach the desk. The receptionist glances up at him and then at you before turning his attention back to his computer.

“Family?” The receptionist asks, looking back up at you and Maverick.

“Yes. I’m his godfather and this is his daughter.” Maverick explains, fighting to keep his cool as the receptionist types away on his computer once more.

“He’s only just been brought in so you guys may have to wait a bit while the doctors assess and treat him.” The receptionist states calmly before gesturing in the direction of the waiting room. You and Maverick head into the waiting room and take seats in the corner of the room, glancing at the other people in the waiting room as you sit down. As you took your seat next to Maverick you couldn’t stop your leg from bouncing anxiously as you waited. You tried flicking through the old magazines to take your mind off being in the hospital, but nothing could soothe your rapidly beating heart and racing thoughts. Out of nowhere, your breaths became short and rapid, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. It felt like there was an iron fist closing around your lungs and squeezing them so tight that no air could get in or out of them no matter how hard you tried. You were so frozen with fear and panic that you couldn’t move to get Maverick’s attention until he looked up from his phone. His eyes immediately widened when he realised what was going on. Your wide eyes and shortness of breath were tell-tale signs that you were having a panic attack.

“Hey y/n/n. Look at me.” Maverick says softly, managing to get your attention on him, your teary eyes locking with his. Maverick could see the rapid rising and fall of your chest and his brain started to formulate ideas of how to help you out.

“y/n, sweetheart, can I touch you?” Maverick asks gently, waiting for you to respond and it takes you a moment, but you manage to force a nod. Maverick carefully takes your hand in his and places it on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“You feel that? Focus on that, okay?” Maverick continues, taking slow, deep breaths for you to follow. Your focus wanders and you start to look around at the people in the waiting room, worried they’re looking at you.

“Hey, hey, eyes on me kid. Just keep focusing on my breathing and try to follow along, okay?” Maverick carefully navigates getting your attention back on him as he squeezes your hand to keep your focus on his breaths. He continues taking slow breaths and quietly counting how long to inhale, hold and release the breaths and he watches as your chest stops rising and falling as rapidly as it was initially. He keeps going until he’s sure the panic attack has passed. He waits for you to speak on your own terms as you take your hand away from him, fiddling with your fingers in your lap as your eyes fall to the floor in front of you.

“Thank you, Mav.” You managed to say, your voice thick with tears as you used the sleeves of your hoodie to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Maverick asks softly, his gaze not once leaving you as you sniffle before giving him a weak nod.

“I’m better than I was. That was really scary.” You admit, scuffing your shoe against the linoleum floor of the waiting room.

“Yeah, panic attacks can be scary. I say that from experience.” Maverick says, thinking back to all the panic attacks he had after Goose died and how Iceman helped him without hesitation. He thought back to the ones he had when he’d have nightmares of Bradley getting shot down after the uranium mission and how Penny would coach him through getting through them.

“I’m just so scared. What if dad dies? I’ll be alone.” You whisper, tears pooling in your eyes once more and rolling down your cheeks as Maverick pulls you into his arms, gently squeezing you as you bury your face in his jacket.

“Your dad is tough. He’ll make it. But you’d never be alone if something happened. You have me, Penny, Amelia, and all of Dagger Squad.” Maverick says gently as he runs a hand up and down your back soothingly as you hide further in his jacket. Maverick continues to reassure you that your dad was going to be okay. He knew it was most likely a bad idea since he could be giving you false hope, but he had faith that Bradley would pull through. Once you’ve been calmed down, you and Maverick chat quietly to each other for a couple of hours, seeing people leave the waiting room and new people entering until a nurse comes in.

“Family of Lieutenant Bradshaw?” At the nurse’s voice, you and Maverick got out of your seats crossing to the nurse who smiles gently at the two of you.

“Is he okay?” You ask when you reach her.

“Yes. He’s going to make a full recovery. I can take you up to him if you’d like?” You and Maverick immediately nod at her words and follow the nurse up to your dad’s hospital room as you feel relief setting in that he’s going to be okay. When you enter the room, you see your dad lying in his hospital bed, fast asleep as the heart monitor beeps steadily.

“He’s been given a fair amount of pain medication to make sure he’s not feeling any pain, but it’ll also help him rest which is what his body needs to recover.” The nurse explains as you cross to his bedside, pulling up a chair alongside the bed and taking your dad's hand in yours. You hear Maverick thanking the nurse before she leaves and then crosses to you.

“I’m gonna grab us something to eat and drink and call Penny. Will you be okay up here for a bit?” Maverick asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to draw your attention to him.

“I’ll be okay, Mav.” You reply quietly, smiling at Maverick who returns with a smile of his own.

“Call or text if you need anything.” Maverick says, ducking down to press a kiss to the top of your head before exiting the room in search of food. You don’t move from your spot, turning your attention back to your dad as you start to talk about what has happened between now and the last time you got to call him. You knew he probably couldn’t hear you, but it brought some form of comfort to just talk to him. You told him about how Maverick took you out on his motorbike and you smiled to yourself, imagining how your dad would react to that. After a while, Maverick reappears in the room with some food and drink which he hands to you, sitting in a seat of his own before pointing at the food with his fork.

“You haven’t eaten in ages, eat up kiddo.” He says, digging into his own food which you follow, not realising how hungry you were until you started eating. You finished your food pretty quickly and thanked Maverick. You and Maverick continue to chat as you hope for your dad to wake up soon. As the sun begins to set, Maverick excuses himself briefly to grab some water and when he returns, he finds that you had fallen asleep. Your head was resting on the bed, and you were still holding onto Bradley’s hand. Just as Maverick crosses to you, a nurse enters the room and smiles at Maverick.

“Visiting hours are over now, sir.” He says with a gentle smile as he looks from Maverick to your sleeping form.

“Can she stay?” Maverick asks, looking at the nurse who nods lightly.

“She can stay. Do you want me to set up a bed for her?” The nurse asks kindly.

“No. No point in disturbing her.” Maverick replies, finding a piece of paper and a pen before scribbling a note for you in case you wake up while he’s gone. After placing the note on the bedside table, he takes his jacket off and drapes it across your shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“If it’s possible, I’d appreciate it if someone could call me if he wakes up while I’m not here.” Maverick says before finally leaving the room and making his way home to Penny and Amelia.

The next morning when Maverick entered Bradley’s hospital room, you were still asleep, but Bradley was awake, smiling tiredly over at Maverick as he ran a thumb over the back of your hand.

“Hey, Mav.” Bradley mumbles. Maverick lets out a sigh of relief before crossing to his godson.

“Hey, kid. It’s good to see you awake. You scared the shit out of us.” Maverick says as he pulls up the other chair to Bradley’s bedside.

“I scared the shit out of myself too.” Bradley admits with a weak chuckle, wincing when a spark of pain flashes through him.

“Do I need to get a nurse?” Maverick asks, noticing the wince and preparing to stand up and go in search of a nurse.

“No, I’m okay.” Bradley says quickly, his words making Maverick stop his movement and settle back into his seat.

“How’s y/n been?” Bradley then asks, gazing down at you softly as you continued to sleep.

“She’s been okay. She had a panic attack in the waiting room yesterday and she was terrified she was going to lose you. But after getting to come in here with you, I think it helped calm her down.” Maverick explains, adjusting the jacket that had half slipped off during the night.

“Thank you for being there for her Mav.” Bradley says quietly, guilt beginning to gnaw at his stomach for this situation. When he first held you in his arms after you were born, he swore to himself that he’d always be there for you. After losing his dad so young he didn’t want to put you through the same pain that he went through. On every deployment, he would do his absolute best to come home to you. When his jet went into that spin all he could think about was you and if he was going to make it home. Bradley gently wiggles his hand free from your grip and begins to run his hand through your hair, smiling lightly to himself when you begin to stir. When your eyes blink open Bradley gently ruffles your hair.

“There she is.” He says with a grin as you focus on your surroundings, sitting up suddenly when you realise your dad is awake.

“Dad, you’re okay!” You exclaim happily, tears welling in your eyes at seeing your dad awake and smiling.

“I’m okay.” He repeats, accepting the hug you embrace him in. You tried to be mindful of his injuries, but Bradley didn’t care, he just wanted to give you a hug.

“I missed you. Deployments suck.” You mumble into his shoulder.

“I missed you more. And yes, deployments do suck.” Bradley replies with a chuckle as you pull away from the embrace, sitting back in your chair and handing Maverick his jacket which had slipped off in your excitement. You quickly wipe at your eyes to rid them of any tears.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?” Bradley asks softly, regarding you with his gentle gaze.

“I’m doing better now I know you’re okay.” You admit with a small smile. Before anything else could be said, a nurse enters the room with a bright smile on her face.

“It’s good to see you awake Lieutenant Bradshaw. How’s the pain for you?” The nurse asks kindly as she picks up his chart.

“It’s not too bad. I’m sure I’m meant to be in a lot more pain given what happened to me so whatever meds you’re giving me are doing their job.” Your dad says with a grin as the nurse scribbles things down before checking his iv and monitors.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re not in pain. I’ll leave you be for a bit, but I’ll have to come back to check you over.” The nurse says, writing some more things down before returning the chart and leaving the room.

“Do you want to head home and get some rest, y/n/n? I can’t imagine the sleep you had last night wasn’t great given that you were hunched over.” Bradley asks when he notices your attempt to hide a yawn behind your hand.

“No, I’m okay. I just want to be with you.” You say quickly, shaking your head adamantly as Bradley smiles knowingly. He knew you were scared of him being out of your sight and something happening while you were not there. He knew he’d be exactly the same if it were you in the hospital bed. He wanted you to rest comfortably but he knew any debate with you was a losing one, you’ve had him wrapped around your little finger since the day you were born.

“Alright then.” Bradley chuckles, looking over at Maverick who shrugs jokingly.

“I think she’s sticking by your side until you’re out of hospital.” Maverick says with a smile as he pats you on the back.

“I guess this is what I should expect when I raise a daddy’s girl, huh?”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster x daughter!reader #bradley bradshaw x daughter!reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 12 | Love Confessions

You're Not My Secret | @blessyourhondahurley

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,006 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - High School, Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Castiel Makes the First Move, First Kiss, Making Out Summary: Dean thinks he's an irredeemable bad boy, but Cas knows better.

Repeat Until Death | @huggybearsunshine

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,218 Main Tags/Warnings: Depression, grief, loss, displaced anger, Dean uses his words Summary: 15x3 The Rupture but with a bit more honesty

Belonging | @pluckydean

Rating: General Word Count: 1,300 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-canon, Love Confessions, human!Castiel, disregards 15.19 and 15.20 Summary: It would've been easier if Dean had said what he wanted to say the moment Cas got back from the Empty. Now it feels like every passing minute is another minute too late, and the words are harder to reach.

Manually Disengage | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,192 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, First Kiss, Suffering Dean Winchester Summary: “My garrison was chosen to besiege Hell because of my disciplinary issues, Dean. You need to understand, Naomi and the intelligence division were exhausted by repeatedly reprogramming me over my fascination with and sympathy for humanity. It was a tactical choice.” “To get you outta the way?” “No.” A headshake. “Because they knew I would care enough about a human soul to do the job correctly. They were making strategic use of an unconventional asset. I was commended for it, actually. For raising you almost completely free of demonic taint and also for the meticulous restoration of your vessel. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought I’d be reprimanded for being too late and allowing the first seal to fall.” “Well, look what that got us,” Dean says bitterly. “A bunch’a near-misses for the world ending and now I’m gonna end up turning into a fucking demon anyway.”

A New Hive | @sunshine-zenith

Rating: General Word Count: 3,246 Main Tags/Warnings: Falling Angel Cas, References to Past Homelessness, Protective Dean Summary: Softly, Dean asks, “Well, what happens to her, now?” Castiel uses a small touch of his Grace to rejuvenate the bee so she’s no longer dehydrated or exhausted from her flight. The bee flicks her wings a couple times before taking off again. Castiel watches her, not quite jealous, but still filled with longing as he is reminded of his own wings, broken and flightless. He doesn’t look away as he replies, “There’s that community garden. Odds are, hers wasn’t the only colony in the area. If she’s lucky, she might be accepted into one of the other hives and find a new permanent home there.”

The Confession Constellation | @pointyearedelvishprincling

Rating: General Word Count: 3,735 Main Tags/Warnings: love confessions, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, just two dudes sitting under the stars, maybe they’ll kiss Summary: Something's up with Cas. It's been a long drive, and Dean is determined to get to the bottom of whatever he's done to piss off the angel. On a warm night on an empty road, they trade long-held secrets under the stars.

Downpour | @sunshine-zenith

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,737 Main Tags/Warnings: Self worth issues, Falling Angel Cas, First Kiss, Salt ‘N Burn Hunt Summary: Its raining, its cold, and Dean just wants this salt and burn hunt to be over with. The ghost they're hunting gets the jump on him, but luckily, its Cas to the rescue. Cas, driving his car, illuminated by the rain, and swinging like a badass. The sight has Dean longing to kiss his Angel.

it's golden like daylight | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,884 Main Tags/Warnings: Season/Series 10, canon divergent, dean winchester bears the mark of cain, love confessions, first time Summary: While hunting for a cure for the Mark of Cain, Castiel finds release in the arms of strangers. Dean is less than pleased when he finds out.

A Novak Family Reunion | @destielsuperfan

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,453 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Metatron (Supernatural), God | Chuck Shurley, Amara (Supernatural), Naomi (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Lucifer (Supernatural), Hannah (Supernatural), Anna Milton, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Charlie Bradbury, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Human, Dysfunctional Family, Supernatural (TV) Characters, Heartwarming, Found Familiy, Protective Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Homophobic Language, Castiel's POV, God | Chuck Shurley is Castiel's Parent, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending Summary: When Castiel receives the upsetting invite from his brother, he has to chose whether or not to endure a painfully long Novak family dinner. Dean persuades him that it could be a good idea to attend given their "special announcement" Castiel has yet to share. Cas thinks he is crazy, it's not like Dean hasn't experienced a dysfunctional family dinner with him before!

i fold in half so easily | @autisticandroids

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,806 Main Tags/Warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, hurt no comfort, grieving, cas & jack, dean saves cas from the empty, post-canon, destiel getting together Summary: A study in learned helplessness, set in the Men of Letters Bunker. Cas clings hard to what he has, and doesn't think about what he doesn't.

Stupid | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: General Word Count: 4,831 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mistaken Identity, First Kiss Summary: Since he forgot his phone at work Dean borrows Charlie's cell to send Cas a quick message. What follows turns his world upside down. (In which Cas thinks he's talking with Charlie and reveals way more about his true feelings than Dean is able to handle.)

Tell Me We're Real | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,851 Main Tags/Warnings: Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Psychological Trauma, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: *You’re not real,* Dean thinks idly. *But that’s okay. I’ll still take it.* “I’m real, Dean,” Cas whispers, so quietly that Dean almost can’t hear him. These words are just for Dean. Sam’s not allowed to have them. “Jack rescued me. Now I’m here to rescue you. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Mine, Yours, and Ours | @huggybearsunshine

Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,982 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel possessing Dean Winchester, consensual possession, angelic grace, hurt/comfort, accidental confession, sharing a body Summary: Castiel is badly hurt, and Dean has to make a difficult choice.

Smoky Mountain Angel | @notastupidbird

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,906 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Dead John Winchester, Grief/Mourning, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Rain Sex, Power Outage, First Kiss, First Time, Marriage Proposal, Love Confessions, POV Dean Winchester Summary: “Hey, uh,” Dean says, clearing his throat. “Thanks for coming up here with me, man. I know you never liked the guy, but ... when I heard you were in town, I....” Dean trails off, not sure where he was going with that thought. Cas looks over at him. “It’s no trouble,” he says. His voice is low and rough, but quiet and gentle in that way it always was before. It’s the same way that used to make Dean’s chest ache. “And I’m sorry for your loss.” - + - After his father’s death, Dean finds himself back in his hometown, once again boxed in by mountains and his own personal demons. When his childhood best friend Cas agrees to help Dean clean out John’s old cabin, the two of them are forced to reconcile old feelings after a thunderstorm leaves them trapped there overnight.

Saharaa | @deanabean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,951 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Western, Drifter CastielHurt Dean Winchester, Starry nights, Campfires, Sunrises, Declarations Of Love, Discussion of feelings, Parent Dean Winchester, Emotionally Competent Dean Winchester, Forehead Touching, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Non-Linear Narrative Summary: The stars were bright as they were high, the fire was warming the air between them. Castiel doesn't know why or when did this "trip" of theirs first developed into a habit. He also doesn't remember how it went and grew itself into a fully fleshed sacred tradition. but it did, and he is nothing else is eternally grateful for that.

The Eastern Tower | @twinone1221

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10,370 Main Tags/Warnings: Dystopian AU, Canon Typical Violence, Chased through the woods, Headshot, Kill It With Fire, run for your life, broken arm, Tortured for information, Beheading Summary: In the post-apocalyptic town of Bunker Down there are four towers that must be guarded. Dean is 8 months into his two years of guard duty on the Eastern Tower, where nothing ever happens. Cas is a runner that uses the path connecting his town, New Haven, with the Eastern Tower of Bunker Down. As he’s running the path after the first snow of the season he realizes that something is following him. Will he reach safety in time?

The Tempest | @whichstiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 33,264 Main Tags/Warnings: Shakespeare, Verse, The Tempest, Canon divergent Summary: When Team Free Will learns that Bobby is in Heaven’s lockup, they mobilize to spring him out. Dean knows that nothing is ever easy, which is why he drags Castiel along for a last-night-on-Earth extravaganza just before the heist to free Bobby goes down. That evening shifts their relationship in new and unsettling ways, but there’s no time to explore it. They’ve got a mission. This tale, told half in prose and half in the style of a Shakespearean play, follows our players as they try to enact their rescue. The plan is simple: get in, get Bobby, get out again. When the rescue goes sideways, Dean, Sam, and Castiel find themselves trapped in a version of Shakespeare’s The Tempest - and the world is populated with some very familiar faces.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #love confessions #day 12

[flamehairedwritings]

Stray: Chapter Three

Characters: Lt. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader 

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 6.2k

Summary: Ghost has a fine time making you admit you need want him.

A/N: Chapter Three of Six. A chapter posted every Monday!

Entire Story Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, enemies are lovers, porn with plot, they're not nice people, but are they

Chapter Tags:  Angst, simon says some not nice things again, simon literally says, angst, dub-con, just to be safe, mdom, rough, nipple play, slight edging, hold the orgasm, multiple orgasms, throat holding, slight choking, slight overstimulation, biting, marking, gloves on, one spank, slight fight for dominance, a little switchy, reader gets one over on Simon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie

Read on AO3

Stray Masterlist

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites. I do not consent to my work being used for AI purposes.

─

Chapter Three - Club 31 High

“The shit people wear these days.”

“I don’t know, I think you’d look lovely in tassels.”

“Fuck off, Gaz.”

He hears Gaz chuckle in his earpiece, making him sigh as he adjusts his grip on his rifle, continuing to gaze through the scope at the street below.

More like back-alley, actually.

A short queue of masked people are waiting to be let through a rusting metal door, a big bloke with shades on even though it’s fucking night taking their names and checking them by speaking into a walkie.

“I think he’s more of a leather man.”

“Shut up, Soap.”

“Look at that handsome fucker there, arse out an’ all. There’s your look.”

“Can we keep the channels quiet, for fucks sake, there might─”

Ghost breaks off as a figure enters the field of his scope, striding down the alley, heels echoing.

He knows those heels.

And he’s never lucky enough for things to just be fucking coincidences.

“Ghost? What’s goin’ on?”

He exhales a long, exasperated breath as he follows the figure, thin-strapped black dress with thigh-high split touching the ground, the square, low cut neckline pushing the figure’s tits in and up tantalisingly, the silky black, wavy wig reaching down to the waist.

The mask that’s resting on top of it is the final giveaway.

Why can’t it just be a fucking coincidence.

“Ghost?” Gaz prompts.

“There's been a complication,” Ghost grits out.

The complication in question strides past the queue, and smiles at the bouncer who smiles and nods familiarly.

And when the door is opened for you, you look up, find him up on the roof, smile, and pull the half-skull mask down over your face.

And then you pass through the door.

“Fuck,” Ghost hisses, lifting his head and swiftly getting to his feet.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Keep your eyes and ears out, boys. I’m goin’ in.”

─

Deep purple and blue lights flash quickly, and music blares. He can barely fucking see or hear. But thankfully he’s fitting right in, every single person here masked up and in either some kind of uniform, fancy suit or dress, or barely anything. Anyone and everyone is welcome here, as long as your name’s on the list.

His certainly hadn’t been, but they’d scoped out a back entrance earlier in the day, through the cellar, and he’d only had to evade a couple of bar staff before he’d found his way here.

‘Here’ is Club 31 High, as exclusive as they got, and probably fucking gorgeous to other people. Marble columns and floors, plush red seats and curtains, chandeliers, it seems more suited to opera and orchestras than the sultry, Deep House music that’s thumping throughout the chambers. People grind and rock against each other, off their faces on drugs or alcohol. He has to move around the edge of the rooms, passing people kissing, sucking cocks, fingering, and fully fucking in the darker corners.

Anything goes here, as long as your name’s on the list.

He scans each briefly illuminated face, trying to find yours, or, really, the mask you seem to think would be so fucking funny to wear. Some people grab at him along the way, trying to pull him onto the dance floors, or rub against him, caressing him. He passes by swiftly, trying to get through quickly without drawing too much attention. He’s spotted some bouncers here and there, and there’s got to be cameras everywhere, though how they can pick anything up is a wonder.

Gritting his teeth, he heads into another chamber, this one bigger, the ceiling higher. It’s even louder and darker in here, and, moving down the steps into it, he wishes he’d brought his fucking headset. It wouldn’t look so fucking weird to wear it here.

He scans the crowd, but it’s nearly fucking impossible, people are dancing too much and the lights are flashing too much and─

A hand slides across his lower back, around his side, and someone stands in front of him, both hands resting on his vest. He’s about to step away, disappear into the crowd, when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hello, Simon,” you say with a smile, though he lip-reads it rather than hears it.

How can anyone fucking hear in here.

As if hearing his thoughts, you slide your hands up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and only have to rise up a little higher due to the heels to rest your lips against his ear.

Even then he can only just hear you.

“I knew I'd get you out dancing one day.”

“The fuck are you doing here?” he shouts into your ear.

“Having a girl’s night. And we were told strictly no boyfriends, so shoo.”

Stepping back, you release him, smile lingering, and turn, melting into the crowd.

“Fuck sake…” he hisses, following after you swiftly.

People move out of the way, too far gone to be annoyed at being shoved. His eyes are fixed on the back of your head, and then, when you stop suddenly, he nearly collides with you as you turn to him. Raising your hands and arms above your head, you sway your hips, and he rolls his jaw.

“Let’s fucking go,” he shouts, knowing you can lip-read, too, though no one would have a hard time understanding him.

Your blood-red smile widens.

Turning around, he thinks you’re about to set off again when you actually take a step back.

And then you lean back against him, settle your hands on the back of his neck, and grind your ass back against his cock.

Raising his eyes to the pitch-black ceiling, he pushes out a harsh breath.

For fuck’s sake.

You don’t stop, rolling your hips, arching your back, able to find the beat of the noise and make it seem like music to him.

His fingers flex at his sides.

No, no, no.

Shoving you away, gritting his teeth, he watches as you turn to him, lips lifted in a wide smile.

A game, always a fucking game.

He can see you’re about to move again, disappear and have him searching like a fucking dog, and he won’t have that.

His hand darting out, he grips your upper arm and moves first instead, pulling you through the crowd. You don’t hit at him and if you’re shouting, he can’t hear it. Though you’re just as likely to not want to make a scene as him.

At the edge of the room, he spots someone heading out of a door into this room and heads to it, pulling you through it into a small, circular chamber. A marble table is at the centre, with dozens of white roses in a large vase resting on top of it, and as the door swings shut behind you, it does a fantastic job of muffling a large portion of the music. Not enough, though, and it’s still too public here. He pulls you towards another door, marvelling at how you still haven’t said a word, and pushes it open. There’s a long corridor, doors on the left, a mirror that stretches all the way down on it on the right. How anyone could see themselves in it is a mystery, though, as the lights are so dimmed you could barely see your own face.

Pushing the first door open, using the handle, he finds it’s a bathroom, a small, really fucking fancy one.

Perfect, but not this one. He pulls you down the corridor, right to the end, and you still don’t say a word, heels echoing.

Those fucking heels.

Reaching the final door, he pushes it open, finds it empty, and then pushes you in, releasing your arm. He steps through after, locking the door behind himself. It muffles all sound of the outside, he thinks most likely by design, these bathrooms not just for pissing and shitting, but fucking too.

And what a bathroom to fuck in. The toilet is to his left, the grandest he’s ever seen, made from the same marble as the floor and walls, a thick red rug is in the centre of the room, in front along the far wall is a plush red loveseat, and to his right, a marble counter stretches across the short wall along with a mirror, with a sink cut into it and what must be designer products in the corner. The light’s not as dim as it was out in the corridor, but it’s still low.

What he wouldn’t give for some clear fucking strip lighting.

His attention returning to you, he watches you, your hands behind your back, that fucking smile still in place.

Hang on, hands behind your back…

“Come here. Hands where I can see them.” He moves forward, and you raise your hands, empty, as you lift your chin and inhale a breath.

He thinks he might see your lips part before he bends down, but that’s probably just from taking the breath.

He can’t help his gaze from briefly dropping to your heels. Yeah, they’re the ones.

Leather, platform, thick straps, heavy gold buckles at the ankles.

He remembers the cold feel of them against his shoulders. 

Shoving the memory away, he starts to roughly pat and feel at your legs, searching for weapons.

He hears you exhale a laugh, widening your legs obediently when he taps a hand from one to the other. “Oh, Simon, they take weapons at the door, they’re in the lovely cloakroom.”

“All of them?” His hand moves up the thigh where there isn’t the split, and he pauses when he feels steel against his gloves. Lifting his head, he arches an eyebrow at you, watches your smile widen, and then slides his fingers under the holster and pulls sharply, ripping the knife from your thigh. He tosses it behind him, making a mental note of where he thinks it lands. Moving his hands to the other thigh, then out onto the silk material of the dress, he slides his hands up your hips, over your stomach, around your back, and then to your waist.

It’s now your turn to arch an eyebrow as his hands near your chest, swiping between and under your tits.

“Do you really think I could conceal anything else in this?”

“Wouldn’t put it past you. Turn around.”

He makes you before you can, gripping your shoulder and spinning you to face the mirror. The sudden action makes you have to press your hands down onto the counter to steady yourself. Your lips twitch as he slides his hands up your hips and across your back. It’s cut low, though, to the middle of your shoulder blades, so it doesn’t take him long.

A hand moves up your bare skin, up the back of your neck, under the hair, feeling along the scalp of the wig.

You hum gently, closing your eyes as your lips twitch again, and his hand quickly leaves.

It goes instead to your mask, which he slides off, and inspects the inside.

“Really fucking funny, wearing this.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. “Admit it, it turns you on.”

His lips press together, and he tosses the mask onto the counter. “What’re you doin’ here.”

“Well, I was very much enjoying myself, and then you just grabbed me like a brute and pulled me in her─”

“Stray.”

“Simon.”

You tilt your head, a smile lifting your lips as you gaze at him in the reflection.

He, though, is stone-still.

“It’s not fuckin’ funny anymore, Stray.”

Your eyebrows raise and your lips part in faux-surprise. “Oh, is this about what happened at the warehouse with Angelo?”

He hates the way you say the name, nearly purring it.

“You nearly had me and the boys killed.”

“But none of you did die, did you─”

“I said nearly.” The bark of his voice has you silencing yourself. 

For a very brief moment.

“So, what, I’ve betrayed you, have I, Simon?” You snort. “That’s your own fault.”

He still hasn’t moved.

“Did you think I was going to hurt you. When we were there.”

Silence.

You’re looking at him in the reflection, mouth in a thin line, and he’s looking at you.

You don’t speak.

His mask and the dim lighting hides the flexing in his jaw.

“Do you think I’m gunna hurt you now?”

He needs to know.

He hopes you don’t fucking realise how much.

Silence stretches on again.

He doesn’t ask again, but you know he won’t move until you do.

You keep looking at him a little longer, though.

You did hurt me. You broke my heart. You betrayed me. And you don’t even know it.

Lifting your chin a little, you give him a light smile. “No. I wouldn’t let you.”

He exhales a breath, something easing in his chest but not enough. “Is that right. You know, you’ve put me in a fucking position here─”

“No, Simon, it’s you who’s put me in a position.”

Your far-too-pleased with yourself smile returns as you press your ass back against him.

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t move. “I’ll finish. You’ve put me in a fucking position where I could, no, should, walk out of here, let you go, let this all be done. Or…” Suddenly, he grips your hip, hard enough that you hiss in a breath. “... I could repay you for what you did at the warehouse.”

You panic for a moment that Soap told him, but, no, the fury in his eyes tells you otherwise.

You know what a grateful Simon looks like.

“Repay me? You’ve just been moaning about how awful it was.”

“Well… You were working so hard to make it up to me, weren’t you.”

“‘Make it up to you’─”

“Grinding on my cock like that. You were practically begging for forgiveness.”

You laugh, your head tipping back slightly.

“Oh, you’re so─”

His hand suddenly darts up, gripping your jaw under your chin, tipping your head back further as he simultaneously takes a step forward, pressing you against the counter.

“No, you don’t get to fucking talk unless I tell you to,” he murmurs against your temple.

If you obey now, right now, then he knows you’re in; in once more in this twisted fucking game he should end but he just fucking can’t.

He watches you in the mirror.

Your eyes slide down to meet his.

And you don’t say a word.

He exhales a breath, dropping his chin a little so his lips are closer to your ear. “I’m gunna ruin you for him. It’ll be my cum leaking out of you, running down your sweet legs as you trot on back to him in those fucking heels.”

Fucking hell.

Your stomach twists deliciously as you gaze at him.

And you risk it. 

“Is that a promise?”

You can’t see him smile as he allows this one insolence. 

“It’s a given, love.”

Raising his other hand, he pulls the material mask over his mouth and then bites at your jaw and kisses down your neck.

You gasp and moan almost with relief as the hand then slides across your stomach until his forearm is against you, and he pulls you back further against him, closing the little space there is.

His vest causes you to have to arch your back though, your ass once more firmly against his cock, and he’s not going to fucking complain.

“Look in the mirror, look at yourself,” he murmurs, your eyes having fallen shut, and he bites at your jaw again as they snap open. “You’re going to watch all of this, and you’re gunna fuckin’ think about it while his cock’s inside you. You’ll be thinking of me and only me when you cum.”

Your breathing has sharpened, but there’s a burning in your eyes, some kind of anger there.

There’s probably a defensive quip for Vitale on your tongue, but you’re still behaving.

“Look at you, bein’ a good girl for me,” he murmurs, and your lips part on a sharp exhale.

He loves when you behave, almost as much as when you don’t.

His hand rises, and he tugs the neckline of the dress down, exposing your tits and making them lift higher. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, and he chuckles lowly as your knees buckle momentarily, a moan escaping you.

“Does he do this for you? He doesn’t strike me as a giver.” He moves his hand from your tits to your mouth, resting two gloved fingers against your lips. “Suck.”

You do, instantly, swirling your tongue as you find his eyes in the mirror.

“Yeah, good girl.” He indulges for a few moments longer, his cock twitching in anticipation and memory, and then he swiftly pulls his fingers away. Moving them back down to your nipples, he circles them with your saliva.

Your back arches as much as it can as you sigh out moans, remembering to keep your eyes open.

He mouths at your cheekbone, not giving you an inch of room. “How does that feel? Speak.”

“Good, so fucking good,” you breathe, trying to rock your hips back against him.

Ghost hums his approval lowly, breathing in the scent of your skin, a hint of fragrance there from whatever you’d put on it. 

“I want you dripping,” he murmurs, twisting, pinching and pulling your nipples, going from one to the other. “I want you aching for my cock until you think you’ve gone mad. I want you begging for me.”

He can feel your pulse through his hand spread across your throat and neck, his fingers gripping at your jaw still. 

It’s faster.

“Good, isn’t it, love. You dripping yet? Is your cunt soaked?”

Your body is on fire, his fingers so fucking good but it’s not enough.

Managing to turn your head closer to him the smallest amount, you try to find his lips, murmuring, nearly pleading, “Mmh, take your gloves off.”

He angles his head away. “They’re stayin on. And did I say you could talk?”

Suddenly his hand leaves your tits and grips the skirt of your dress, tugging it up over your ass roughly. You try not to appear too pleased as he chuckles.

“No knickers? You were wantin’ this, weren’t you? Wantin’ me?”

He brings a hand down on one of your ass cheeks, swiftly and sharply, tearing a soft cry from you.

“Speak.”

You exhale a laugh, unable to help yourself. “Your ego is almost as big as your─”

The grip on your throat tightens a little, for a moment.

“No smart words from you today, just the truth.”

The truth. How frightening.

Still, though, you smile.

“But that was the truth. And your cock is big.”

His lips are against your ear once more, voice low, demanding. “So tell me, then. You came here wanting it, didn’t you?”

You expect him to perhaps spank you again, play with your nipples maybe or caress your skin. But he gives you nothing. It’s maddening.

Licking your velvet-red lips, you exhale a long breath. “... Yes.”

You feel him smile.

“Good girl.”

He plunges two gloved fingers into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, hands pressing against the counter.

He nips at your earlobe. “I’ll allow that, only because you sound so fucking sweet.”

His fingers move instantly, fucking you slow and deep.

And he barely takes a breath before speaking again.

“How many fingers does he need to stretch you properly? Dainty little things, weren’t they. Does he have to work hard, poor fucker.”

And, yes, the anger’s there again, burning in your eyes, and your teeth are biting into your lower lip.

It’s satisfying to him, as fucking twisted as it is, that you so clearly want to snap and yell at him, but you won’t. For him. Because he said you can’t.

It makes his cock so fucking hard.

He wants to see just how good you’ll be, how much you’ll obey him.

What will be your breaking point.

“Does he cum first, or does he make you first? Countless times, like I can, like I do. Does he know what you sound like when you’re desperate, out of your mind, overstimulated but fucking begging for more?”

He slips a third finger in, still moving them tantalisingly slowly but deeply as moans fall from your lips.

Yet despite giving them to him freely, anger is still clearly blazing in your half-lidded eyes. 

And he can’t get enough.

“Do you moan and grip at him, beg him, hang on to him. Do you look up at him with those pretty fuckin’ eyes, beggin’ with them when your head’s too fuckin’ empty to form words? Do you─”

He catches himself.

Your words from the warehouse have been circling round and round in his mind since you spoke them.

And I love him─

Had that been it. Were you going to say that you love him fucking you.

Or that you love him. End of. Full stop.

He’d never know, and he hadn’t wanted to know.

He still doesn’t want to know.

Exhaling a harsh breath, he slips a fourth finger in.

Every breath you exhale is now a moan, one hand gripping at his forearm, and your other suddenly moves back, cupping the back of his head, your fingers pressing in.

He can feel your walls clenching around him, fluttering, and he groans against your ear.

“You gunna cum already? You been that desperate for me?”

He listens to you moan and mewl for a few moments longer, fingers flexing against your throat, before he orders, “Speak.”

Your legs are nearly trembling. “Yes.”

“Beg me. Ask me to cum.”

“Please, Simon, please can I cum, please, I need to, please─”

“Mmh, not yet. Hold it.”

You make a strained sound, eyes closing tight, and he fucking loves that you’re obeying.

But he doesn’t want to reward you. Not yet.

Lips against your ear once more, he watches you in the mirror. “Did he fuck you later, after we left, after we burned that place to the fucking ground. Did you ride him, did you tell him sweet little things to soothe his fuckin’ ego. Did you hold him─”

“Simon─”

“Did I say you could speak.”

There’s no anger in your eyes now, just… 

Why would you be sad. He doesn’t fucking understand it.

Are you that attached to the fucker?

Whatever reason for it… he fucking hates seeing it.

Softening his grip on your jaw a little, he turns his head slightly, lips pressing against your cheek.

“How does this feel? Does your clit need some attention, is it aching for me? Speak.”

“Yes,” you breathe again, knees bending slightly for a moment as you try to rock your hips.

His hand finally releases your jaw and lowers, and he walks you back half a step to give himself the room to slip his hand down your stomach to the slit of your dress, yanking it up so his fingers can find your clit.

You gasp sharply as he strokes at it, your body jerking slightly as you hang on the precipice of your orgasm.

He watches you in the mirror, your eyes closed, mouth open, chest heaving.

And still you don’t allow yourself to cum.

Opening your eyes, though, you beg him with them.

Fuck…

He presses an almost kiss to your cheek. “Cum for me, love. Go on.”

You cry out as you grip at his head, your back arching, and you cum instantly. Your pussy squeezes at his fingers, gripping them tight, and he grunts against your skin, pressing another nearly-there kiss to it.

“That’s it, good girl, cum all over my glove, give me it all.”

Your body jerks as you moan, and when it finally goes slack, your head leaning back against him, he smiles.

“That was a big one, wasn’t it. You’ve been fuckin’ desperate for that.”

You just try and catch your breath, your fingertips softening on the back of his head. He pushes your head to the side with his own, then drops his lips to your neck. 

“Speak,” he grunts as he bites your shoulder.

You inhale a shuddering breath, swallowing. “… Yes…”

“Good girl.” Pulling his fingers out of you, biting you again when you moan as they leave you, he groans lowly as he wipes his fingers on the ass cheek he’d slapped. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

You hum somewhat weakly in reply.

Not weak enough, though.

You gasp sharply and your hips buck as he starts to stroke your clit again. Your eyes snapping open, you lock your gaze with his.

“You’re gunna cum again for me,” he murmurs against your skin.

Still sensitive, your hips buck again, but he’s stroking so lightly, so gently, though that’s almost making it even better. His other hand slides over your stomach, his forearm holding you against him again, your hips now only able to jerk a little.

The blissful pleasure of your orgasm has only faded slightly, so with each stroke he gives, it rises a little higher… but… and you fucking curse yourself… it’s not enough.

And he knows it.

“Need somethin’ inside you, don’t you,” he says against your ear, still holding your gaze.

You nod, your breathing long, deep and shaking as you try to regulate it.

He exhales a breath. “Not yet. And this time, you’re not gunna take your eyes off yourself.”

Fucking hell…

Dropping your hand from his head, you flatten both palms against the counter and shift your gaze to your own, and he chuckles quietly.

“Good girl.”

His fingers quicken.

Your teeth grit as you try to stifle a sharp gasp.

“No, no, don’t be doing that…” He’s looking at you in the reflection still, head leaning against yours. “… You’re gunna look at yourself and you’re gunna be loud.”

The way he caresses, circles and strokes your clit, the leather of his glove slick against it…

You’re leaning your head into his, hips bucking, and you give in, mewling loud enough to fill the space because you don’t care, it just feels so good.

He’s biting at your shoulder and neck again, too, almost with a sense of frenzy.

And then he starts talking again.

“What does he say when I mark you like this? Do you hide it from him? Do you avoid him?”

Muscles in your jaw jump and flex as you grit your teeth tightly

His eyes flick up to you. “Speak.”

“Yes,” you grit out.

“And what does he say?”

You stare at yourself, eyelids fluttering a little as pleasure sparks through you.

“Speak.”

Your jaw is clenched tight, teeth pushing into each other.

Suddenly, you turn your head closer to his.

“Kiss me.”

“No,” is the instant answer.

He’s punishing you, and you know it. 

It could be worse.

He could have left.

So why hasn’t he.

Why is he here, fucking you.

If you betrayed him, if he hates you that much, why is he here.

Why is he asking these questions.

Why does he care.

Does he care.

You’ll probably never know.

The anger that had been bubbling inside you, simmering in some kind of control, now explodes as you gaze at him.

How could he care.

Your elbow drives into his lower stomach, just under his vest, and then you slam your head back, the back of your head colliding with his nose and jaw.

“Fuck─ What the fuck─” he starts hissing, releasing you automatically.

Spinning, you shove him backwards.

“What─”

You shove him again, silent.

His brow is furrowed, eyes slightly wider. “Love, are you oka─”

You shove him again.

He falls back onto the loveseat with a grunt, and you straddle him instantly, gathering the silky material of the dress around your hips. His eyes narrow slightly in realisation then, his hands going to your thighs, gripping them.

“This what you want, huh─”

“Shut up,” you snap, releasing the skirt of the dress and tugging his belt open. “I don’t want to hear from you anymore.”

His mouth still exposed, you can now see the self-satisfied smirk he gives you. “You want my cock inside you instead, yeah.”

“Shut up.” You pull open the button of his trousers.

“You that desperate for me?”

“Shut up.” You yank the zip down.

“Do you cling at him like this─”

Your hand flies up, gripping his jaw. 

Leaning closer, you hiss, “Shut the fuck up.”

His smirk is now gone, and an anger that nearly matches yours smoulders in his dark eyes.

And then he knocks your arm away, so you punch his shoulder, then grab at his throat, your other hand going for his trousers. He shoves your hand away from his throat so you use both hands to pull his cock out as he fists at your dress, lifting it higher to expose your pussy.

From this angle, he can see it glistening now, wet, open and ready for him.

“Christ…” he hisses through gritted teeth, watching you position his aching, flushed pink tip against your hole.

Watches you sink down on him, his cock disappearing inside you.

He makes a strained sound in the back of his throat, balling your dress up in his gloved fists.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, Simon,” you breathe, hands now firmly gripping his shoulders.

Fixing your gaze on his eyes, before he can answer you start to move your hips, and you don’t want to be slow, you don’t want to tease, you don’t want to give him any gentle satisfaction at all right now, so you set a hard, firm pace, riding him aggressively.

“I bet your cock was hard the moment you saw me, and the way you came running after me… Who’s the desperate one?” 

His eyes flick up, locking with yours, and your entire body is taut, waiting for him to switch this once more, while also feeling pleasure burst and spark through you.

“I told him about your base and here you still are, fucking me, wanting me wet for you, marking me… like you don’t even care… and what if one of your boys had died─”

Snarling, he shoves your hands off his shoulders, grips them at the wrists and holds them at your sides.

“You’d better watch your mouth.”

You laugh, and you don’t know where it comes from. “Oh, have I hurt your feelings? I didn’t know you had any.”

He’s silent, the only sound his short, harsh breaths as you ride him.

You don’t look away. “Take the mask off.”

“No.”

“Take it off.”

“No─”

“Let me see you.”

He falls silent.

When he moves, it’s swift.

A hand darts up and grips the long hair of the wig, and he yanks, pulling your head back.

You cry out as your back arches, small, delicious bursts of pain sparking along your scalp where the wig is secured.

His other hand runs firmly down between your tits, to your stomach, to your hip, gripping it. It’s possessive, how he does it, and it pisses you off. Knocking his arm away so he releases the hair, you grip his shoulders again, nails digging in, and you lean forward until your forehead nearly presses against his mask, and you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, locking you in that position.

He pushes against your hip, trying to put some distance between you but you won’t let him.

“Look at me,” you hiss, and he does, stilling as your eyes lock on to each others.

And, somehow, neither of you speak.

You just look at each other.

His gaze is hard, jaw tight, and you just ride him as you grip at him. Ride and squeeze your walls around him until…

His lips part on an exhale, no, not an exhale… a moan.

Ghost moans.

The corners of your mouth lift into a breathless smile as you squeeze him again, desire surging through you.

He grits his teeth at the sight of your smile, low grunts coming from the back of his throat, hands now tight on your hips, and you feel something feral snarling and snapping its jaws inside you.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on…” you hear yourself murmuring, squeezing your slick walls around him every time your hips rise.

His mouth is open, fast, quiet breaths escaping him, and you want to kiss him, you want to bite at his lips, you want to have him kiss you fiercely and deeply in the way that shows you he cares, even if it’s just now, even if it’s just for a little while.

Your mouth hovering over his, you don’t, though.

Because he doesn’t kiss you.

Makes no move to.

Gasping as a wave of pleasure suddenly rolls through you, you realise one of his hands has moved, his gloved fingers now somewhat clumsily stroking at your clit.

There’s almost a sweetness to it; that he’s still wanting to give you pleasure, make you feel good despite both your previous words, despite the slight curling of your lip and his hardened eyes.

You hate him.

He probably hates you.

“Cum, cum for me…” you suddenly realise he’s groaning, fingers of his other hand gripping at your thigh, almost desperately.

Gritting your teeth, your nails bite into his shoulders.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him, you hate him…

“Cum for me,” you hiss, the pace of your hips starting to stutter slightly as your orgasm nears, dangerously close.

He’s staring up at you, unable to stop small moans and grunts from falling from his open mouth.

“Love─”

“Cum in me,” you command, and he inhales a sharp breath, hand darting from your clit to your hip, gripping tight, and then his hips jerk as he cums.

His eyes squeeze shut as he exhales a deep, shuddering breath, and your own fall shut as you moan, feeling his cum deep inside you, and the thought of it, the feel of it, the knowledge that, yes, it will leak out of you exactly as he intended, has you cumming, too.

Your head falls forward, leaning against his, and you hear his short, sharp breaths as you mewl, his hand sliding from your hip to your lower back, fisting your dress there.

Your hips slow to a stop as he breathes hard against your shoulder, and you try to soften yours, your arms staying around him.

The only sound that now fills the room is his breathing, and you just listen to it. Just feel him against you, inside you.

His hand flattens against your back.

His fingertips press in a little.

Gentle.

You pull back, press your hands against his chest and push yourself off of him.

His cock slips out of you unceremoniously, and he grunts as it does, but you’ve already turned away, adjusting your dress and flattening it.

You hear the metal of his belt clanking together as he tucks his cock away, before he zips his trousers up then secures the belt.

Pulling the top of the dress up over your tits, adjusting them, you then smoothe the dress down. Running your hands down the wig, you run your tongue along your lips, feeling the lipstick having collected in some areas. Smoothing and spreading it out with your finger tips, you’re aware of how silent he is behind you.

You hate him.

“This was the last time,” you hear yourself say.

“Sure it was.” 

Why is he still entertaining this, entertaining us.

You’re about to ask that exact question, snap, shout, scream it, when he speaks suddenly.

“You’re scared of Vitale, aren’t you.”

You still, hands paused in needlessly adjusting your dress again, eyes flicking up. Turning to him, you’re expressionless.

“What?”

He’s still sat down, hands resting on his thighs, mask back in place, eyes on you. “I saw it. At the warehouse. Why does he scare you.”

A corner of your mouth lifts a fraction. “Nothing scares me, Simon.”

“I did.”

You pause before you can catch yourself, so you make your mouth lift a little higher. “You didn’t. You startled me, there’s a difference.”

His eyes haven’t left you. “I know what I saw. On all accounts.”

Exhaling a breath, you push your hair over your shoulder. “Think what you like.” Turning away, you head towards the door.

“Stray.” 

His tone has you halting, but you keep your back to him, staring at the door. 

You hear him stand, take a few steps towards you.

“I know you were scared of me. I know that. What I don’t know…” You remain silent. “... What I don’t know is if you were scared for me.”

Silence.

He can’t believe he’s fucking said it.

Not even a proper question, just words, but words that have been rolling round and round in his mind incessantly.

He gazes at your back, that tautness in your shoulders, your waist moving as you breathe, your head slightly tilted down.

Then, you half turn to him… and there’s nothing on your features.

“Why would I be. I’m nothing but a whore, remember.”

A coldness spreads through his chest as he watches you go, his own, fucking regrettable words, in your voice, echoing in his mind.

─

Reblogs and comments make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future works! (Note: I'll only tag if age is in your bio) Sorry if the tag doesn't work!

Masterlist

Tagged: @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @gifsbysimplysonia, @ryethebrokengae, @poohkie90, @corvusmorte, @captainutsstuff, @ff-huntress

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #ghost smut #simon 'ghost' riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #my writing #flamehairedwritings

[looking4userthatworks]

Being the Spots child

Pre collider

●I can imagine he didn't know you existed but when he did figure it out he was like really confused because he made sure to use protection (bro was probably drunk when he did it so that prob why he didn't know you existed)

●but in the end, he ultimately decides to meet you

● alr let's give the lucky girl a name let's call her Gloria I like to imagine your mother Gloria to be somewhat of an alcoholic getting drunk on the weekend bringing multiple different boys home getting smashed and all that stuff

● she knows this is a problem but it's hard for her to stop one weekdays she trys to help you with your homework but ultimately falls asleep and you end up bringing her to her bedroom and tucking her in

●when John is finds out actually you exist he sees the situation your in and how your practically raising yourself he know he need to take you under his wing he might not know what he's doing but he's also part of you existed so he's also responsible for you

● one custody battle later

●he has full custody over you he is ecstatic and is also a little worried because he has no clue how to raise a child

●for you, you're a little shy towards him because you barely know all you know is that he's your father

●honestly you thought you situation before was alright might have not been the best but atleast you had a roof over your head a place to sleep and somewhat warm food

●Not to say you didn't have that with John it was just a little awkward

● for the first week, it was pretty awkward. Learning the basics about each other, the dos, and the don'ts favorite colors, etc.

● you started getting comfortable with him pretty soon it went from John to Dad

● sometimes, he was busy with his science Alchemax stuff, but he always made sure to ask how your day was during dinner!

●you guys were doing great

Post colider

It was a rainy night, a little drizzle, that's all. You pick up your phone, and you got a text from your dad. "You might be home a little later than expected. There's some money in my top drawer. Go ahead and order yourself a pizza. I love you !" Sent 1 hour ago

"HI dad, sorry for responding late. My phone died, so I had to charge it :p. I love you too! Come back home safely 4 me plz!"

You of course where a little upset he's always been coming home late tired and sore they've been overworking him for quite sometimes and every night he comes back he says that this will be the last time they make him work more hours

You knew he was lying every time you honestly considered emailing the company but decided against it

You called pizza place and placed your order. Now you just have to wait

Why not watch some TV? You grab the remote and turn the TV on it was on the news channel

"Explosion at Alchemax the cause is still unknown, but the police are currently looking for survivors -"you turned off the TV and got your shoes on as quickly as possible"

your ran it didn't matter if your legs started to hurt. You ran all the way to the scene

It was completely destroyed. You tried to run to what was left of Alchemax, but a police officer stopped you

"im sorry ma'am, but I can't let you pass"

you tried to push past him left, and right you went until finally collapsed in defeat

"I just need to know if my dad is okay.." You cried, choking back tears

The officer was taken aback. "I know you're worried about your dad, and I promise we won't stop till we find him, but for now, I suggest you go back home "

"Can you at least drive me back home? It's pretty cold, and my legs hurt. " You choke out with a couple of sniffles

"I- yeah, of course I can"

While the police officer driver you back hime you could help but think of the worst possibilities deep down you prayed none of them would be true

When you got home, you walked to your bedroom, grabbed all the warn abd fuzy blankets, and pretended it was your dads embrace you ended up crying for most of the night until you grew tired and fell asleep

Click

The door unlocked and closed softly. You slowly got up, you'd run, but you had your fair share of running for the day

"Dad?" You spoke softly due to your sore throat

Nothing

you started to walk to the living entrance

You were met with a pale white man? With black spots on him

"Hey honey..." he said tiredly

he sounded like you dad, but he doesn't look like your dad

"Dad... What happened?" Asked softly

"it's- it's a long story honey" he collapses "look I known it's been a long day for the both of us but can you please just...ya know just like drag me to bed"

"Of course dad," as you started to carry him on yout back to bed

You pushed his limp body on the bed and then climbed into the bed as he held you soon. Both of you drifted to sleep

●things became different when he became the Spot

● money was somewhat tight when Alchemax fired him

●he was hired by some places, but it usually didn't last long he tended to freak out the customers/employees

●rent was coming up, and he was just fired, not to mention he had to feed him and his child

●That's when he resorted to a life of crime

● and when he had his first fight with Spiderman

● and when he started world hopping of course he texted you the text probably went something like this "Hey honey I found out how to get my revenge on spider man>:)) but I need more Alchemax Coliders because it'll give me more spots >:) I don't think I'll be back in time for dinner grab the money in cookie jar an order yourself something i love you stay safe😘"

you knew your father had an obsession with Spiderman because he's the one that made him like this, so this was nothing new to you

When the spot got back to his dimension, he immediately went to check in you watching you through a window

He entered the home, and when you saw him, you gave him the biggest hug (you two guys always do this even if he was just out for groceries)

This was all for you. EVERYTHING he did was for you, and it was always for you. The bond you too built grew is unbreakable. He WILL protect you even if it kills him

Alr something I'd like to break down is the reader is 10 through 13 when this stuff happens you choose the age alr that's all I wanted to say

Have a lovely jubbly day, my customers

HOLLY SHIT I JUST RE-READ THIS ITS SO FUCKING CRINGE DO NOT READ I REPEAT DO NOT READ -future Lindsey(or past Lindsey how that shit works)

#atsv spot #the spot #johnathan ohnn #atsv fanfiction #atsv fic #atsv headcanons #jonathan ohnn x reader #atsv hcs #astv headcannons

[widowswineapologist]

I'm very curious about Modern AU Primis Richtofen and how it usually would be spending evenings with his s/o

a/n: i wish i could understand the appeal behind domesticity when it comes to modern aus 😭😭 i default to wanting to teach the crew internet lingo- 

♡ i feel like it's just in edward's blood to pick a mentally demanding job, no matter what timeline or universe he's in. the man can't catch a break frrr…

♡ so, usually when comes home from whatever job he has, the absolute first thing he does is basically face plant onto the softest thing he can find so he can decompress for a good couple of minutes. 

♡ it's not uncommon for him to just grab you and flop on the couch during this little "ritual" of his. you better pray you weren't doing anything important because you have a tall german man clinging onto you like a koala and he will be VERY upset if anything interrupts this quick cuddle time. 

♡ after that, i think anything is fair game! he'll usually talk to you about his day, and he'll listen if you want to tell him about yours. he's a good listener :3 (shocking, i know)

♡ this is just a general headcanon i have, but he's definitely the type to have a chore chart or something like that. he doesn't like housework being a one-sided thing, he does his part and he expects you to do yours too. (though, he'll give you a free pass or two if you bribe him <3)

♡ with that in mind, it's not uncommon for him to be the one cooking dinner. he actually quite enjoys being in the kitchen, it's calming for him at times. richtofen's entertained the thought of cooking with you before but he tends to get very commanding when he cooks and he doesn't want to treat you like that :[ (he'll save that for the bedroom JKJK)

♡ i definitely feel like it's also a common occurrence for you two to be doing completely different activities, even though you're basically right beside each other. richtofen usually always has something he needs to be doing, and your presence makes it a lot easier for him to put the work in. he just likes existing with you, it makes him happy. there has been a lot of times where you have both been sitting on the couch and he's working on some kind of paperwork and you're working on your own projects, and you're both there and you're happy :) 

♡ richtofen definitely has suggested some kind of game night to you before. you indulged him, but quickly regretted it because instead of something fun like monopoly or charades, he instead wanted to play things like chess or scrabble. luckily, there's a bunch of board games that combine both fun and intellectual capability, so you haven't ruled game night out entirely. god help you if he suggests playing a game he created himself. 

♡ occasionally, you'll have movie night, in which you will have to brave richtofen critiquing a movie to dust for the entire duration of said movie. he'll shut up if you "shh" him a couple of times, but he'll pout about it. if he's lucky, you're one of those people that like video essays so you'll listen to every single one of his critiques and add in a few of your own. he'd give cinemasins a run for their money ong- 

♡ more often than not, you'll be ready for bed before him. you practically have to drag him to bed every night because he'll always, and i mean ALWAYS, tell you he has some more work to do and he'll meet you in a few minutes, which then turns into a few hours, which then turns into him falling asleep at his desk and waking up late for work. no matter how many times you scold him, this never changes. you're about to chain him to the bed at this point.

♡ (which, let's be honest, he might enjoy.) 

#cod zombies #edward richtofen #edward richtofen x reader #primis richtofen

[eideticstark]

Federal Gambit- Part 3

Warnings: Minimal swearing, mentions of death, minimal mentions of self harm

Pairings: dad!Gibbs x reader, Hotch x fem!reader

A/N: Hello readers, thank you for sticking around. Here's the requested part 3! If you haven't read part 2, go back and do so. First off, I am so sorry it took so long! I just finished my first year of university a month ago. I hate leaving things unfinished so I'm coming back to this. This chapter is kind of a drag because it is all plot stuff but I'm hoping the story will be done with two more parts! As always, feel free to critique me and/or leave requests! Thanks for reading! <3

Tags: @ilovemark1951 @brooke-stinson @jazzymariexoxoxo @flyingmushroomss

Leroy and Aaron quickly rushed to you. The blast was weak but strong enough to render you unconscious. Aaron called his team while Leroy dialed 911. 

“Stay with us y/n,”.

Coma Dream

Flashback to when you were 17

Leroy was about to ship out for another deployment. Lucky for you, he’d be there for the holidays. He decided to take you, Kelly, and Shannon, on a trip to his cabin he built but never got to use. Snow was gently falling. Leroy started a fire while your mom made you and your sister hot chocolate. Kelly draped a blanket over the two of you as you sipped your warm beverage. You turned towards Kelly the same time Kelly turned towards you. The two of you burst into a fit of laughter because whipped cream covered your noses. Shannon shook her head moving out of her spot to get you both napkins. Leroy admired the scene from afar, his blue eyes softened and filled with content. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend time with his family. 

Once everyone was settled, you all exchanged gifts. Kelly gifted you a locket with a picture of you two sticking your tongues out and making a silly face. Funny enough, you gifted Kelly the same thing. Shannon gifted Leroy a vintage wooden hand plane and he gifted her a small wooden boat. 

The rest of the day was spent enjoying every moment with the family before the inevitable deployment happened. 

As soon as the holidays were over, Leroy shipped out, the family outing now just a past memory.

It was a crisp January morning. You were running a high fever resulting in you missing school. Shannon drove Kelly to school that day and where it all went downhill. 

You saw the news on TV and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Your mom and your sister were dead. You needed to reach your dad but you knew that was wishful thinking. It was impossible to reach him whenever he was deployed. With tears falling fast, you did the next best thing and called Leroy’s friend. 

You hid because those same people might go after you next. In hiding, it was only you and your thoughts. You drove Kelly to school everyday. It should’ve been you. And for that, you hated yourself. At that moment, you hated your father. But, you also knew he was the only one who’d be able to help you.

—

You don’t know how many weeks, maybe even months have passed. All the days started to mend together. You couldn't care less. The pain of losing everything is all consuming. There was nothing worth living for. You decided today was the day as you grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills. One bottle. One bottle and all the pain would be gone. Your hands shook as the pills rattled into your palm. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and felt a stinging pain. Your eyes shot open and were faced with your father in front of you. 

In true Gibbs fashion, his timing is impeccable and smacked the pills out of your hand. 

All your anger returned and you pushed Leroy with whatever force you had. You fell to the ground defeated. Leroy crossed the room and engulfed you in a hug. You broke down, finally feeling safe enough to do so. 

—

Present day at the hospital

“Damnit Gibbs, why isn’t she waking up? The doctor said she’s stable and should’ve been awake within a couple hours after surgery. It’s been a almost a day and a half” 

With a knowing glint in his eyes, Gibbs answered Aaron’s question. “She doesn’t want to.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why.”

Looking at the locket you never took off, Gibbs responded with, “Not my story to tell.”

—

Hotch decides that the best thing he can do for you is to work the case so he returns back to the BAU. His team has many questions but know better than to ask their unit chief. They gather in the conference room and begin working the case. 

Hotch started the discussion with, “what do we know?”

“Y/n enlisted in the marines when she was 18 shortly after…” Garcia’s voice trailed off.

“Shortly after what Garcia?”

“After Pedro Hernandez murdered her mom and sister,” Garcia responded with a sniffle.

JJ added, “Y/n Gibbs doesn’t exist after she enlisted. I’m assuming because Jethro Gibbs has a long list of enemies.”

“Garcia, what can you find on y/n y/l/n?” 

Moments pass and Garcia is puzzled. “Y/n y/l/n barely exists. The basic info is there but everything else is classified.”

Morgan, trying to bring morale up speaks up, “Baby Girl work your magic and unclassify the info.”

“Aw it’s cute that you’re trying. But I’d be breaking a dozen federal laws.”

Prentiss adds on by saying, “So now you’re afraid? You’ve done so before.”

Before the conversation went even more out of hand, Rossi tells everyone to “quit it” and asks, “Who classified the info?”

“Secretary of the Navy.”

The team continued digging into your life to try and make sense of it all. Hours passed and they still were nowhere closer to finding out who wanted you dead. 

A wave of realization put Reid into a ramble. “We’ve been looking for hours and what did we come up with? Everyone who could want y/l/n dead is dead or the file is classified. How can the unsub figure out who she is if even we can’t get into the files? Any government agency would have been on alert if there were to be a breach.” 

It was already late and Hotch decided to send everyone home and they’d regroup tomorrow morning. Right as the team began packing up, Gibbs and his team swarmed in. 

“Aaron Hotchner, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of y/n y/l/n.”

#ncis #ncis x reader #ncis x you #ncis fandom #ncis fanfiction #gibbs x reader #gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #criminal minds #cm #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #bau team

[sequinsmile-x]

I love your family fics... A happy marriage, happy kids, unlike what I had. You make my days better and I spend couple of hours before going to sleep reading all your fics. Thank you so much

Hi bestie!

I haven't stopped thinking about this message since I saw it last night. I genuinely feel honoured to help in anyway, and knowing you find comfort in my fics means more than I can put into words.

I've always said that I write because it helps me. It helps get thoughts out of my head, it stops me from thinking when I really don't want to, it helps me channel my creativity in a way that feels productive. And the fact it helps other people in whatever way? That's incredible to me.

Anyway, I thought I'd write you something that is for you. A fic where they are happy and have kids and have the family we all deserve. I hope you can come back to this as often as you need to, and know it was written with you in mind.

So this is for you, and anyone else who might need it!

-x-

Daylight

March 7th. The date that had once been carved on her gravestone and one she didn’t want to be written on her little girl’s birth certificate. 

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Pregnancy, labour/birth

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

From the moment she found out her due date, she was determined that it wasn’t going to be her child's birthday. She’d gone as far as doing her own research, comforted by the fact there was only a 5% chance she’d have her little girl on the predicted date. She was further assured by the memory of her son’s birth. Oliver was almost two weeks late and she’d been induced. Aaron always joked that if he could, their 2-year-old son would climb back up inside of her, always keen to be wherever his mother was. 

It mostly calms her nerves down, and lets her reassure herself for months that her daughter wouldn’t be exactly on time, that the day would pass as it did every year with little fanfare. 

March 7th. The date that had once been carved on her gravestone and one she didn’t want to be written on her little girl’s birth certificate. 

It felt wrong. The thought of something so happy, so full of joy as they completed their family, being on the same date as the day she died. The day her life changed forever five years ago, altered in a way she once thought she’d never get past. She didn’t want to associate her daughter, her sweet face still not something Emily could quite picture yet, with the worst day of her life. When her found family’s opinion of her was permanently shifted, when she died to save them, sent to another continent by the man she was now lucky enough to call her husband and the father of her children. 

It wasn’t going to happen, not if she could help it.

Which was why she was absolutely not in labour. 

She’d felt the first twinges in the middle of the night. The discomfort had torn her from sleep, her hand flying to her belly before she was even fully awake. She’d told herself they were Braxton Hicks contractions, something she’d been experiencing on and off for a couple of weeks. The pains had continued but were few and far between, and by the time Aaron woke up in the morning she’d half convinced herself it was nothing and just what came with being very pregnant. 

Denial, she would later realise, was a very powerful thing. 

She gets through most of the day ignoring that the pains are getting closer and the fact that Aaron keeps asking if she’s okay, clearly accepting the fact she was in labour much faster than she was. She shrugs him off, insisting she’s fine as she grips the arm of the couch whilst her stomach tenses and pain rolls over her like a wave. She gets through it, wanting nothing more than to simply make it to the end of the day, to get past midnight so her baby would be born on any other day. 

Jessica comes round to pick up the boys after dinner, something that they’d agreed she’d start to do every evening in the lead-up to the baby being born so she wouldn’t have to come over in the middle of the night if Emily went into labour. Emily hugs Jack and Oliver a little tighter than she usually does as she says goodnight to them, aware, even underneath all her stubborn refusal, that the next time she sees them Oliver will no longer be her baby, and Jack will be an older brother again. 

She’s standing in the kitchen making herself a snack when she’s stopped by another wave of pain, the spoon of peanut butter she’d had in her hand clattering to the countertop. She groans as she leans forward, her elbows on the kitchen counter as she breathes out slowly. She shifts her hips side to side, attempting to ease some of the pressure in her back. 

“Sweetheart, I really think we should go to the hospital” Aaron says, reaching out to rub firm circles on her back, something that they’d figured out had provided her relief during her labour with Oliver, “The contractions are getting closer-”

“They aren’t contractions,” she insists as she cuts him off, her denial starting to sound weak even to herself, “It’s just some back pain,” she looks up at him. She attempts to smile, blowing out a breath as the wave of pain comes to an end, the tension in her body finally lifting, “I have done this before you know,” she says, trying to lighten the mood, to convince him that everything was fine. That she wasn’t having this baby today, “I know what I’m doing.” 

Aaron watches her carefully and sighs as he shifts his hands to her hips and gently turns her to look at him. He sighs as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing against her cheek. He knew what was wrong, what was making his usually logical wife act so out of character, what was making her deny the obvious. He knew the significance her due date held the moment the doctor had told them, the day engraved into his memory just as it once had been on a gravestone that bore her name. He’d been preparing for this eventuality since that appointment, aware that whilst it was unlikely she’d give birth on her due date it wasn’t impossible. 

She’d been defying the odds since the day he’d met her, so why would now be any different? 

“I know what day it is, Em,” he says carefully, his heart twisting in his chest as she tenses. He cups her jaw and rubs his thumb back and forth over her cheek, “I understand what you’re trying to do, but you are in labour and we need to get the two of you to the hospital, okay?” 

She clenches her teeth, misplaced irritation aimed at him flooding through her in an instant. Sometimes she hated how well he knew her, how he could read her like a book. It had been jarring when they first got together before she allowed herself to settle into the comfort of the way he loved her. She’d mistaken the way he liked to care for her as control, the small but loving actions he did to make her day easier, difficult to get used to. Cups of coffee before she’d ask for them, snacks placed in front of her before she even knew she was hungry. His embrace always willing and waiting to hug her, to provide comfort she still wasn’t very good at asking for. She shakes off the irritation, a physical movement of her head that ends with her leaning into his palm, his thumb wiping away the tear that the movement dislodges from her lashline. 

“Today can’t be her birthday,” she says, her voice raw, torn open by emotions she’d stuffed in her chest for months, the words sharp and bitter as they finally escape from where she’d held them captive. She places her hand on her stomach, her arm curling around her bump as she tries to protect her unborn daughter, “It just can’t be, Aaron. I never want to associate…”

She drifts off, her voice catching as she tries and fails to suppress a sob. He tugs her forward, looping his arms around her as best as he can with their daughter trapped between them. He shushes her, his lips against her forehead as he rubs his hand up and down her back. 

“Sweetheart, today might end up being her birthday,” he says softly, shushing her again when she holds on tighter, her fingers digging into his skin so tightly he can feel her blunt nails through his shirt, “But that means it’s the start of something new, right?” He asks, pulling back to look at her, his heart clenching at the look on her face, the unshed tears in her eyes, “It means that today wouldn’t just be sad, it would be good too. A new beginning for us.” 

She sniffs, blowing out a steady breath as she wipes her face, irritated at herself as more tears fall onto her cheeks, “I just hate that he’s in this,” she says, hiccuping through a sob as she speaks, “He tried to kill me, he almost did, and the anniversary of that might end up being the day she's born.” 

“Ian is not in this,” he says firmly but calmly, cupping her cheek to make her look up at him, her gaze having drifted to the floor at the mention of Ian’s name. She furrows her brow and scoffs and he smiles softly at her, storing away yet another moment in their lives when she managed to look intimidating even when crying, “He isn’t. It’s just you, me, the boys and our little girl.” He places his hand on her stomach, linking his fingers through hers, “We’re about to meet her, and that’s in spite of him, not because of him.” 

She blows out a breath as she nods, leaning forward and pressing her head into his shoulder, “You’re right.” 

He smiles and kisses the side of her head, “Really? I don’t think you’ve ever said that before.” 

She hums and pulls away, wiping her cheeks again, “Yeah,” she says, stamping a kiss on his lips, “Plus, my water just broke all over your shoes.” 

He pulls back and he looks between his now wet shoes and floor, the damp patch on her sweats, and the smirk on her face. He leans forward and kisses her, a fierce but quick thing against her lips, before he pulls back. 

“I’ll get you some fresh sweats and grab myself some different shoes, then we’ll go to the hospital,” he says, squeezing her hand before he lifts it to kiss her knuckles, “Let’s go have a baby.” 

She nods, her smile only fading when he’s out of the room again, her hand on her stomach as she starts to feel the beginning of another contraction, rolling through her body as it’s chased by anxiety she can’t shift. 

“Yeah,” she says, blowing out a steady breath, “Let’s go have a baby.” 

___

She grunts as she leans back against Aaron, whining as her body is barely given a chance to rest, her next contraction already building. 

“Fuck,” she exclaims, squeezing Aaron’s hands tightly, “This sucks. This is so much worse than I remember,” she huffs out a breath, “Why didn’t I remember how much this sucks?”

“It’s nature’s way of tricking us into having more than one child,” her doctor says from the end of the bed, looking up at Emily from between her legs, her hand comfortingly on her knee, “Just another couple of pushes and your daughter will be here, Emily.” 

Emily whimpers, a sound she would later deny entirely, and rests her head on her husband’s shoulder to look up at him. He’d climbed into the bed behind her hours ago, taking the same position he had when she gave birth to Oliver, her support both physically and emotionally as she brought their child into the world. She looks at their joint hands and sees the time on his watch. 

11.35 pm 

“Maybe she can wait 25 minutes,” she says, looking at her doctor, “It’s just another 25 minutes.” 

The doctor exchanges a quick look with Aaron. He’d pulled her aside when they arrived, giving her a very abridged version of what was happening, why his wife was so hesitant to give birth today. He knows Emily wouldn’t thank him for it if she knew, but he wanted to keep her and their little girl safe, even if it meant enduring her wrath at a later date. 

“Emily,” the doctor says, her smile so kind it makes Emily ache, “give me your hand.”

She nods, unclasping one of her hands from Aarons and reaching out to her doctor, letting her guide her until her fingers touch the top of her baby’s head, tears springing to her eyes as she chokes out a sob.

“She’s got so much hair,” she breathes out, her voice shaking almost as much as she was. 

“And she’s almost here,” the doctor says, “We don’t have 25 minutes.” 

Emily nods and leans back against Aaron, reaching for his hand again, her body starting to take over, pushing despite the fact she really doesn’t want to. She falls back against her husband again as she takes a moment to breathe in between pushes, aware that with every passing second, she gets closer to having her little girl in her arms.

“It’s all your fault you know,” she says, squeezing his hands tightly, “She gets it from you.” 

He chuckles softly, his lips against the side of her head, “She gets what from me, sweetheart?”

She groans as the next contraction starts, “Being punctual.”  

Her words turn into a scream as she pushes for a final time, her body sagging into Aaron’s as the piercing cry of a baby fills the room. Emily breathes out and it catches in her chest as her daughter is held up for her to see and she reaches her shaking hands to hold her.

“Congratulations,” the doctor says, her words, and everything other than Aaron and the baby in her arms, fading away as Emily looks at her daughter's face for the first time. 

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, tears spilling down her cheeks as she holds the still-screaming baby against her chest, “Look at you,” she looks up at Aaron and isn’t surprised to see he’s crying too, “Look at her.”

“She’s beautiful,” he says, kissing his wife, “I love you so much,” he murmurs against her lips before he looks at the baby, now slightly calmer as she settles against Emily, “Hi princess,” he says, his eyes taking in every feature of her face, committing it to memory because he knew how much of a thief time was, how quickly she’d change right in front of him, “You look just like Mommy.” 

Emily chuckles, “Sorry about the nose, baby,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down her daughter’s back, shifting to press her lips against her forehead. She looks up at her husband, “What time is it?” 

Aaron looks at his watch and then back at his wife, blowing out a slow breath before he answers, “It’s 11.50, sweetheart.” 

She chokes out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, shaking her head as she looks back down at her daughter. 

“That’s okay,” she says, her voice still shaking, overwhelmed with hormones and emotions she can’t find the name for. Suddenly everything she’d spent months worrying about didn’t seem to matter. She doesn’t feel sad, or disappointed, two things that seem impossible as she looks at her newborn’s face, but instead she feels happy, overwhelming joy she never thought she’d get to feel at this time five years ago, “That’s more than okay,” she strokes a finger up and down her daughter’s cheek, “Happy birthday, sweet girl.”

___

Emily smiles as she rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, looking down at the baby girl in his arms. They were snuggled together in her hospital bed, both of them exhausted but happy as they stared at the latest addition to their family. 

“Jess said she’s on the way,” Aaron says softly, looking at his wife. She was beautiful in her exhaustion, ethereal almost with her hair in the braids he’d done for her after she’d showered, “Apparently the boys are very excited to meet their sister.” 

She hums as she reaches out to touch the baby’s head, stroking over the thick dark hair that was impossibly soft, “We need to think of a name,” she says as she continues to stroke her hair, “None of the ones we thought of seem right.” 

They’d gone back and forth for months, arguing over girl's names ever since they’d found out they were having a daughter. Nothing seemed like it fit their little girl, especially now they were looking at her. The baby starts to fuss and Aaron immediately hands her to Emily, smiling at the sight of his girls together. 

“I have a suggestion,” he says as Emily settles the baby into her arms, her smile soft as she looks up at him.

“Yeah? What is it?” She asks rocking the baby as she calms down, content to be in her mother’s arms. 

“Alba,” he replies, reaching out and adjusting the blanket around the baby, “It means dawn, or sunrise,” his smile turns shy as she stares at him, her expression unreadable to him for once, “Since she’s our family’s new beginning.”

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her lungs, and she shakes her head at him, “How long have you had that in your back pocket?” 

He shrugs, “Since we found out your due date,” he says, watching as she looks back down at the baby, nerves making his heart seize, “If you don’t like it-”

“I love it,” she says, cutting him off as she looks at him, her smile wide, “It suits her. Alba Hotchner.” 

“Alba it is,” he replies, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips, his hand cupping the back of their daughter’s head, “Hi Alba.” 

There’s a knock at the door just before it opens and Jessica’s head pops around it, “Is there a tiny baby in here?” She asks, her smile soft, “I have two very excited little boys out here.” 

Aaron stands up, “Come on in.”

As the door opens fully he grabs Oliver, hauling the toddler onto his hip as he makes a beeline for his mother. 

“Remember what we said, Ollie,” he says, walking over, his other arm around Jack’s shoulder as his eldest is more controlled in his excitement. 

“Gentle with Mama and baby sissy,” Oliver says, his thumb in his mouth as he looks at Emily, his smile wide as he rests his head on Aaron’s shoulder, “Hi Mama.”

“Hi sweet boy,” she says, making sure Alba is tucked safely in the crook of one of her arms whilst she wraps the other around Oliver once Aaron eases him onto the bed, “I missed you.” 

Oliver snuggles up into her side, a little rougher than she can take, and she hides a wince, never wanting to scare him, “Missed Mama.” 

Emily smiles at Jack who was standing next to the bed peering into the bundle in her arms. He beams at her, the same excitement in his eyes that he had when he first met Oliver a couple of years ago. There were moments when she wondered if Jack missed when life was just him Aaron, when it was quiet and he didn’t have a little brother, and now sister, splitting his parent's attention and following his every move, but then there were moments like this. When she saw the love in his eyes, the joy she’d been a part of, her role in helping Aaron fulfil his final promise to Haley something she held dear. 

“Jack, Ollie,” she says, looking between her sons, purposely ignoring the clicks of both Jess and Aaron’s camera phones as she speaks, “This is Alba.” 

“She’s so pretty,” Jack says as he looks at his sister and then back at Emily, “She looks like you, Mom.” 

Emily unwraps her arm from around Oliver and cups Jack’s cheek, pulling him in his kiss his forehead. She still wasn’t entirely used to him calling her Mom, and part of her hoped she never would be. That it would always make her feel as overjoyed as she had the first time, that random Tuesday morning when she’d shifted from Emily to Mom with little fanfare from the little boy. 

“Thanks, sweetie,” she says, “Do you want to hold her?” 

Jack opens his mouth to say yes, but is cut off by his younger brother, his voice a little too loud in the otherwise peaceful room.

“I want sissy,” he insists, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that never failed to make him look exactly like Aaron. 

“You can both hold her,” Aaron says, stepping forward to pick up Oliver and placing him in the large chair next to the bed, “Jack, you sit next to your bother.”

Jack nods enthusiastically and does as he’s told, “I remember what to do,” he says, wrapping one of his arms around his brother, “We have to be gentle, and make sure her head is supported.” 

Emily hands over Alba to Aaron, ignoring her instinct to snatch her back even though she wasn’t leaving her line of sight. 

“That’s right Jack,” Aaron says, handing Alba to Jack, making sure that she was safely in the laps of her brothers. He stays close, his hand under Jack’s elbow to provide additional support. He turns to look at his wife as he sees a flash go off, and he raises his eyebrow at her when he sees her phone in her hands pointing at them all. 

“What?” She asks, raising her eyebrow in challenge, “You can take pictures and I can’t?” 

He winks at her before he turns his attention back to his children, softly talking to the boys as they ask questions about Alba. Jessica walks over too, leaning over the back of the chair to look at her niece. Their conversation fades out as Emily looks at the picture of her husband and children on her phone. She immediately sets it as her wallpaper, wanting it as a reminder of what she has now, what she had been able to create for herself despite everything. 

Her new beginning and happy ending wrapped up all in one, the soft epilogue she knew she truly deserved. 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaursrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #emily prentiss fanfiction

[feverishly-kpop]

San & Ateez - Fainting

San was good at a lot of things. In fact he was above average in most things he tried. But there was one thing he wasn’t at all good at. No matter how many times he was spoken to about it, San had an uncanny ability to overlook every message that his body sent him to slow down until he completely crashed.

In retrospect San would be able to pinpoint all of the small things that, if addressed, might have saved him the indignity of passing out in front of the rest of the team and a decent number of staff. But hindsight is always 20/20.

*~*~*~*~*~

The day before it happened San was woken by Mingi who informed him that they had to leave in an hour. San sat up and picked up his phone from his bedside table, shocked that he managed to sleep in until almost 10:00 AM. He shouldn’t have been surprised considering that he hadn’t gone to bed the night before until around 3:00 AM, but he had grown accustomed to running on very little sleep over the last couple weeks.

“Breakfast is on the table” Seonghwa called out to San as he left his room. “Nothing special but enough to hold you over before we go in today. I think it’ll be another late one.”

San was never one to complain about long practices. He loved his job, he loved his team, and he knew how truly lucky he doing a job that millions of people would die to do. But he was tired. Getting out of bed had been getting harder and harder every morning.

He sat at his seat at the table and grabbed some food but spent more time pushing it around his plate than actually eating.

“Everything good, Sannie?” Seonghwa asked as he eyed San at the table looking lost in thought while refilling his coffee. “San?” He repeated when he didn’t get a response.

“Huh…” San responded suddenly, his head shooting up at the second mention of his name, seeming startled by Seonghwa’s sudden appearance.

With San meeting Seonghwa’s eyes for the first time that day, Seonghwa couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his dongsaeng’s eyes and how bold they were against his pale skin.

“Are you feeling okay? You’re looking a little peaky today” Seonghwa said softly, sitting down next to San. San quickly nodded his head, taking a bite of food to appease his hyung.

“I’m just tired” he responded with the most convincing smile he could muster. “But we all are with the next tour date coming up.”

Seonghwa cupped San’s cheek in his hand, running a thumb under his eye. After a few moments of looking San over and confirming that he didn’t feel at all warm, Seonghwa relented, standing up with his coffee and heading off to his room.

“Please finish your breakfast, Sannie” Seonghwa called from his doorway. “There’s two more cups in the coffee pot too, if Mingi doesn’t get to them before you.”

By the time they were getting ready to leave San had managed to eat most of the small serving he had put on his plate that morning and a full cup of coffee. He tried his best to convince himself that he just needed a few minutes to wake up as he followed Seonghwa and Mingi out of their apartment to head to work.

*~*~*~*~*~

Even a few hours into their dance practice, San still couldn’t shake the hazy feeling he had woken up with, and he could tell that it was impacting his performance.

Their choreographer had joined them for practice that day to check on their progress as they prepared a new stage for next stop on their tour next month but he didn’t seem pleased with their progress. San stood quietly against the wall looking on while the choreographer pulled Yunho aside to exchange what appeared to be fairly heated words.

He couldn’t hear a word that was being said but he instantly noticed Yunho’s shoulders hunch defeatedly and tense up at their choreographer’s words. San stood across the room feeling helpless until the choreographer’s eyes shifted to San and Yunho’s face, flushed and flustered from the conversation he was in, turned to look at him as well.

Yunho immediately turned back around and hung his head, realizing that San had been watching the entire time. Yunho nodded and indicated something with his hands that seemed to end the conversation. Their choreographer turned to wave goodbye to the rest of the members who had not noticed what had just happened before turning and leaving them to continue to run practice on their own.

To say that San felt mortified was an understatement. His performance had been mediocre at best and downright sloppy at worst for the entire rehearsal. He watched as Yunho turned around looking completely overwhelmed before fixing a smile to his face and announcing that they would need to keep working on cleaning the choreo up before their choreographer came back to work with them again tomorrow. He gave the team a five minute warning before grabbing his water bottle and stepping out of the studio.

San quietly followed him out the door, knowing that he was very much responsible for botching their rehearsal. He found Yunho sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest, taking a few sips of water to try to calm himself down.

“I’m so sorry” San said, sitting down in front of Yunho. “I know I’m not doing well today. I’m sorry you had to bear the brunt of it.”

Yunho shrugged, trying to fake a smile. “It’s fine, San” was all he could muster, making San feel even worse. Yunho couldn’t even deny that San was the cause of his situation.

“I’ll be better, I promise, okay” San pleaded as Yunho buried his face in his knees. For a moment Yunho didn’t utter a word and San considered calling Seonghwa or Hongjoong out into the hall, concerned that Yunho may be on the verge of a panic attack. But after a few moments of uncomfortable silence Yunho looked up at him.

“Go back inside. I’ll be in soon” Yunho said softly. San tried to protest, not wanting to leave Yunho alone, but the look he got from Yunho was enough to send him away immediately.

*~*~*~*~*~

When Yunho returned to the studio after a few minutes San was shocked that he had pulled himself together so quickly. San, on the other hand, had been trying to get his head in the right place while they waited for Yunho, having a few sips of water and a couple bites of a protein bar in hopes that it would make him feel more alert for their practice to begin. Unsurprisingly, however, his brain was just as cloudy as it was before the break but now he had what felt like a boulder sitting in his stomach.

“We are going to run it from the top a few times in a row” Yunho said in a voice that was convincingly upbeat to anybody that hadn’t just witnessed what San had. “Then we will run it individually. If you’ve mastered it after your individual run through then you can go home. If not you’ll stay and we will keep running it together and individually until you’ve made enough progress to be done for the day.”

The rest of the team nodded, most of them confident that they’d be able to leave after their individual run. San knew that wouldn’t be the case for him but hoped that Yunho was feeling lenient, a big ask considering the trouble San had caused him already today.

They ran through the choreo three more times as a group before beginning individual runs. Mingi was dismissed, followed by Yeosang. Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, and Jongho were given a few small corrections and told to stay. San was the last to do his individual run through, performing noticeably worse than everybody before him. Yunho stood up from where he had been watching the rest of the members and started in on San’s corrections. Lots of corrections.

San’s brain struggled to keep up with everything that he was being told and he was getting beyond frustrated. He knew the moves. Nothing that Yunho was telling him or demonstrating for him was new. Yet no matter how hard he tried his body just would not do what it was supposed to do.

The number of members at the studio continued to dwindle. After another group run through Wooyoung did his individual run, making the small corrections he had been given and running to the door once he was dismissed. Seonghwa and Jongho were dismissed shortly after and Hongjoong followed after another round, leaving only Yunho and San.

Yunho and San ran it together. Then San ran it. Then Yunho ran it himself to demonstrate. Then together, then just San.

Over and over.

And still San continued to make mistakes. Repeating mistakes. Making new mistakes. Fixing mistakes just to make the same mistake later in the song. He was exhausted. His head was beginning to ache. He couldn’t keep going.

After running through it once more together, Yunho shrugged. He had been working with San for almost three hours without much marked improvement.

“What else do you need from me?” Yunho asked, looking equally exhausted. “I want to help you San, I really do. But I’m tired. You’re tired. It’s just not happening tonight.”

San looked down, feeling ashamed and aggravated.

“I know the choreography” San muttered. “I just…I don’t know, I can’t do it today” he added.

Yunho nodded as he packed up his things. “Let’s try again tomorrow. It happens. It just sucks that it happened when our choreographer was here…”

The disappointment in Yunho’s voice was palpable to San. Against his better judgement, San queued the track up on his phone.

“I’m actually going to stay and keep running it” San said, trying to fake a smile. Yunho attempted to argue against it but San cut him off immediately. “Go have some dinner. You’ve worked hard today. And…” San paused, “I’m sorry for what happened today. Tomorrow I’ll prove to you all that I can do it.”

*~*~*~*~*~

San continued running the number, back to back to back, unsure how many times he’d run it and how long he’d been there alone. He was only startled to reality when he tripped over his own foot and ended up falling on his backside.

Grabbing his phone, he glanced at the time. Midnight. Yunho had left over three hours ago and, in three hours, he had made no progress. San had had enough, packing his bag and setting off back to his apartment on foot.

When he arrived back he found Seonghwa and Mingi already asleep but it took San some time to fall asleep that night. He spent some time tossing and turning, thinking about all that had transpired, making it impossible to relax. After hours of stressing, San finally managed to drift off.

*~*~*~*~*~

San woke the next morning before his alarm and instantly knew that something was wrong. He felt hot all over but also strangely cold to his core at the same time. He was dizzy, his head hurt, his muscles ached, and he felt a vague sense of nausea. After prying himself from the comfort of his bed he headed slowly toward the washroom, flipping the light on and getting a look at himself. And, to absolutely no surprise to San, he looked just as sick as he felt.

San pulled out the thermometer that Seonghwa had made sure to place in the washroom cabinet for them when they moved in, sticking it under his tongue as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to look a little less like he had one foot in the grave. After a minute the thermometer beeped confirming San’s suspicion. He was burning up.

It’s not that there was ever a good time to get sick, but this felt like the worst possible time to San. He was already in hot water with their choreographer after the prior day and the last thing he wanted to do was be a disappointment again.

And Yunho.

San groaned, he didn’t want to disappoint anybody but Yunho had stayed with him for hours. The thought of messing up in front of the choreographer and Yunho getting lectured about it made him feel even more sick than he already was.

He had to get better before practice. And if he couldn’t get better then he’d have to be able to pretend he was better. There was nothing more to it than that.

*~*~*~*~*~

San popped a few tablets before going back to sleep for a few more hours. When he woke up he slipped a bucket hat on low enough to cover at least part of his face and threw on a mask for good measure. When questioned about it by Mingi on their way out he said that his skin was breaking out and he wanted to cover it up, evading his suspicion for the time being.

For as off as he was feeling the prior day, he was feeling unspeakably worse now. Every movement just hurt.

Once they were stretched and warmed up, Yunho glanced at his watch. “Our choreographer will be here in a couple minutes. Things looked better for the most part last night” he said, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

San didn’t fail to catch it. “For the most part.” For the most part very clearly excluded him.

Yunho wrang his hands together before speaking again. “Does anybody have any questions?” His eyes darted momentarily to San before averting them back to his hands. The members all shook their heads, ready to make what would hopefully be a better impression on their choreographer than yesterday.

After another minute their choreographer arrived, asking for a straight run through right away. San took a swig from his water bottle, hoping a little extra hydration would get him through.

It did not.

It all happened so fast.

San started in his position next to Wooyoung who flashed him a small thumbs up. He didn’t hear the music start over the sudden ringing in his ears. He missed the first beat and was already behind, a mistake he hadn’t made the evening prior. The last thing he remembered was looking up at Yunho who looked equal parts pissed and concerned.

“I’m sorry Yuyu” he mouthed before his eyes became too heavy to keep open. And then nothing.

*~*~*~*~*~

When San came to their choreographer and a few other staff were gathered over him and his head was resting on Yeosang’s lap.

It hurt. His head hurt. Quite badly. And he was so hot.

As if on cue he felt a cool cloth being placed on his forehead.

San cracked his eyes open again, a little wider this time.

“There he is” a manager said softly. “You’re okay, just relax, Sannie” he added as he noticed San’s eyes flitting back and forth, trying to figure out what had happened.

A few of the staff took a few steps back now that San was awake, making room for Seonghwa and Hongjoong to kneel down next to him.

“You didn’t say anything to anybody?” San frowned at Seonghwa’s question.

“Sorry” he replied, feeling like his mouth was filled with cotton.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it San. This was stupid and reckless…” Hongjoong started before being cut off by Seonghwa.

“We will talk about that later Joong-ah. Let’s let him get his bearings first.” Seonghwa could always be counted on to keep the team calm during stressful situations.

“Is Yunho mad?” San asked suddenly, turning his head looking for Yunho before the pain stopped him.

“What…why would he be mad? Sannie…” Wooyoung said, stepping forward so San could see him and taking his hand.

Tears began welling up in San’s eyes, startling the rest of the team.

“Where is he? He must be so mad” San cried, the tears flowing freely now.

“He stepped out to get some ice for you, Sannie, you’re burning up. Don’t cry, he will be right back” Seonghwa said soothingly, readjusting the compress on San’s forehead.

Just then Yunho reappeared through the door with a bag of ice. The sight of him made San sob even harder, catching him off guard.

“Yunho, please don’t be mad at me. Please! I know the choreography…” San said, reaching a hand up to Yunho.

Yunho handed the ice off to Jongho before sitting down next to San and grabbing his hand.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble again” San said quietly to Yunho, who looked around awkwardly.

“I’m not in trouble, Sannie. I wasn’t in trouble yesterday. Our choreographer was disappointed and I got upset. I’m sorry…” Yunho responded, trying to keep the conversation between himself and San as he hadn’t discussed the situation with the rest of the team. “It’s all good. I know you know the choreography and I have a feeling that you weren’t feeling so well yesterday and that’s why you were having a hard time. Am I right?”

San nodded as Yunho wiped a tear from his flushed cheek. Yunho then turned away from San and wiped a tear from his own eye.

“Let’s get you all home” a manager piped in from across the room after seeing how shaken they all were from the incident. Nobody disagreed, instead silently packing up and helping San up and downstairs to the van.

*~*~*~*~*~

After a couple days of rest San was beginning to feel better. Yeosang checked his temperature and confirmed that his fever had broken.

“Don’t do that again, pabo” Yeosang said as he playfully flicked San’s forehead. “Now go back to sleep. You’re back to work the day after tomorrow as long your temperature stays down” he reminded San from the doorway.

“Yeah, I’m not planning on this ever happening again” San responded as Yeosang closed his door. He then fell asleep, set on making the most of his last two days off and catching up on as much sleep as he could.

#kpop sickfic #kpop fluff #sickfic #ateez fluff #ateez sickfic #sick san #San sickfic #san fluff

[acutiewithagun]

Taglist: @oleander-nin @radicallxser @itsyagurlchip

Tw: Mentions of stalking, recording devices, bugging devices, and police. Framing and defamation of person. Yelling and threats briefly.

Word count: 1,098

Mic Testing - Chapter Seven: What to do

A week had passed since the event with Mike happened. Your schedule of street performing was only slightly diverted by the police officer stationed close to your apartment. They still hadn't caught the person that had done it and you knew they only sent the officer as a courtesy. Not that they would do much despite how grotesque the damage was.

Also the strange presents kept showing up at the same time every day. So that chalked the Kendlys out of giving you them. As sweet as the old couple was, you knew they couldn't afford to keep sending purple wrapped presents. Plus you doubted they could be that exact.

Fidget toys, gift cards with an insane amount of money on them, poems, and anything under the sun were presented in the wrapped gifts. You were starting to gain a little collection that took up so much of your dresser you got a huge box you shoved it all into.

You checked your alarm as loud knocking erupted. Right on time. You casually opened the door, picking up the predictable purple present. You closed the door and plopped on the couch.

Just then your roommate passed, stopping as they spotted the gift in your hands. "Another one? I swear, this is excessive." You shrugged and started taking the gift wrapping off. "I mean we can't even catch them on camera footage." Your roommate continued ranting about the odd situation as you lifted the gift out of it's box.

You froze at the unexpectedness of the gift, your roommate also gawked upon seeing it. It was a wooden music box with golden painted vines covering the wooden exterior. Your roommate quickly scrambled to sit next you on the couch as you opened the music box.

Inside were more golden painted vines and a flower that was also the golden color as the vines. At the center of the flower was a small keyhole. Your roommate immediately grabbed the box and searched around, pulling out a tiny key, handing it off to you. You quickly turned the key into the keyhole and it started playing your favorite lullaby from your childhood.

You didn't even notice the way your hand covered your mouth is disbelief. Your roommate nudged you and started inspecting the music box. The song continued playing until it finished. They frowned as they stood up. "You've mentioned this was your favorite song as a kid, right?" You nodded, lowering your hand.

They carefully placed the music box down and started pacing back and forth. "And you said that the gift cards and small improvements for your devices were all centered around your interests." They paused in thought as you nervously pondered on the information.

"You might have a stalker…" You looked at your roommate with a bit of concern as they continued. "...Think about it, I'm your roommate and I don't even know all your hobbies and interests. You hardly tell just anyone about your childhood in debt. And what about Mathew or whatever his name is. He got injured literally the day he made you uncomfortable."

You slowly pulled your knees to your chest and hugged your legs, looking at the music box. "Tollen, they haven't done anything to me and this is all just speculation." Your roommate paused their pacing and looked towards you. "Leave the presents alone. We're getting rid of all the ones you have then we'll just throw out any boxes that come."

It honestly was a blur after that.

You hesitantly nodded as they grabbed your hand, pulling you up and towards your room. You both quickly grabbed the box of things, including the music box, and brought it down to the dumpster. You held up the lid as Tollen dumped the box inside.

Once finished your roommate dragged you back inside to your room and did a thorough inspection for anything. Bugs, listening devices, recording devices, the works. Lucky for the two of you there was none that you could find.

You were still skeptical about the overreacting from your roommate. Just because they line up doesn't mean it had anything to do with you.

Tollen ordered pizza and put your comfort movie on the TV. They said they'd be right back as they left you alone in a locked apartment.

Not even an hour in your phone rang and you answered it, thinking it was your roommate. Unfortunately that was not the case and you were met by the barrage of yelling from your producer.

"Have you seen the media lately! Your face is everywhere!" You blink in confusion, and as expected before you can answer they start barking again. "You'd better fix this or I'm terminating your contract with us!" That was the final thing they said before hanging up.

You quickly opened up your different social media and looked in utter horror as some random girl was claiming you to be a fake and that it was her music. She was a bigger creator and was bashing your name in every way possible while showing faux proof of the music being hers.

The stress built up as you tugged at your hair, throwing your phone to a different cushion to just cry. First a brutal maiming case with someone you had recently talked with, then a supposed stalker, now some popular artist is trying to take your hard work and livelihood.

You bit your bottom lip and took a few deep breaths as you lowered your hands to your sides. There was no point getting so worked up over speculation and an issue that could be fixed with simple communication.

You hesitated before shakingly grabbing your phone and reaching out to the creator claiming your music. You politely asked them to please stop saying all the awful things about you and to apologize. You once again shut off your device and left it.

As a small artist, there wasn't much you could do. You didn't have a big scary company backing you. And the connections you did have were going to bail the moment things got messy.

You sat in the quiet and pondered what more you could do. Then a lightbulb went off in your head and you scrambled to contact someone. Someone very important.

Mrs. Madeline.

You pressed the call button and heard it ring a few times before a click was heard and a cheerful, "Hello, there darlin' ", was heard on the other end. You smiled and cleared your throat.

"Hey Mrs. Madeline, do you have any singing jobs available?"

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt self insert #a cutie with a gun writes #yandere rottmnt