#just reply here in the comments it's up to you i'm at lost myself

[girlrotterr]

HEADLINES☆

Bodyguard!ellie x Model!reader  Summary: After gaining more popularity in the public eye, your manager decided to hire you a bodyguard. Usually, you wouldn’t care, but this particular bodyguard, Ellie, is a cold and stubborn one, always controlling your decisions. Tonight, a big party is being thrown, but knowing Ellie, she won’t let you go. You can persuade her...right? a/n: hello angelss!! I wanted to try something different for this fic! lmk what you angels think! Had sm fun with this one <3 (especially with the dynamic!)

You sighed, frustrated with Ellie's determination. It wasn't the first time you had tried to convince her to let you attend social events. Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms.

"Ellie, come onn! I get it, you're here to protect me, but I can take care of myself too. This party is crucial for my image, and you know how important that is in my line of work," you argued, attempting to convince her. 

She narrowed her eyes, "Your image won't matter if something happens to you. You can't trust those people, and I won't let you jeopardize your safety just for the sake of appearances."

You tried a different tactic, softening your tone. "Look, I appreciate what you do, I really do!. But I need to live a little, experience things.! Besides, it's not healthy to be cooped up all the time. Let me go, Ellie, just this once!” 

Her expression remained serious, and she shook her head. "No, it's not happening. I've seen how these events turn out, and I won't let you become another headline. My responsibility is to protect you, even from yourself."

You threw your hands up in frustration. "I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions, even if they turn out mistakes."

She stayed silent for a moment, her gaze intense. "I can't let you take unnecessary risks. It's my job to keep you safe, and I won't compromise on that."

"But I got all dolled up!" you say, gesturing towards your outfit.

A smirk crept onto Ellie's face as she looked you up and down. She admired the effort you had put into your appearance, her gaze lingering for a moment. 

You had come to know Ellie's strict professionalism quite well, but there was another side to her that occasionally surfaced — a genuine appreciation for your presence. You had caught her stealing glances, subtly tracing the lines of your figure. She silently acknowledged the aura you radiated. 

When she got lost in those moments, captivated by you, it didn't escape your notice. You had become a distraction from her duties, something that seemed to drive her fucking crazy. The protector allowing herself a vulnerable moment, drawn in by you.

"Hmm... Well, I might allow it," she finally accepted, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Only if you behave well."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise!”

Ellie maintained her composed demeanor, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Don't make me regret this. I'll be watching, and if anything seems off, you're out of there."

You nodded, pleased with the compromise. "Deal!"

Heading towards the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. Stepping out of the house, ellie followed closely, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a hint of nervousness, ensuring your safety remained her top priority.

fuck. The sight of Ellie in her sleek suit sent shivers down your spine, it always gave her a menacing look. 

"Hey~, with that black suit, you look like my date," you said cheekily, a playful glint in your eyes as you teased her. You loved getting under her skin. 

Ellie looked at you suspiciously, a faint blush tinting her cheeks "I'm not your date," she stated firmly, attempting to brush off your comment.

"Aww man," you exclaimed, unable to contain your giggles at her seriousness.

She rolled her eyes, hiding a hint of happiness behind her sternness. "Keep acting like that, and I'll forget the deal," she replied, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. It was her turn to be the tease now.

"Harsh!" you exclaimed, grinning as you playfully moved closer to her. 

"You're such a brat, you know that?" she said with a playful smirk.

You gasped, exaggerating your shock. "Am not!"

"Then stop acting like one," she shot back, her eyes scanning your body.

You grinned, playfully striding towards your baby pink beetle. "Not until you drop the bossy act."

Opening the car door, you hopped inside. The seats plush and adorned with soft pink cushions, the air filled with the sweet scent of strawberries.

You started the car and began driving, the engine humming as the vehicle glided through the streets. Ellie stared out the window, lost in her thoughts and taking in the passing neighborhood. The quietness of the car started feeling a bit awkward.

Sensing the silence, you reached into your purse, rummaging around until you found your favorite CD. With a grin, you popped it into the player, and your favorite song immediately filled the car with noise.

"AHH!! LOVEE THIS SONG!!" you shrieked and laughed with excitement. The energy of the music lifted the mood, filling the car with a sense of liveliness. Ellie couldn't help but crack a small smile, finding your genuine joy contagious. She smirked as she listened to the music, not exactly to her taste but enjoying the rhythm.

You started dancing in your seat, unable to contain your excitement. With a grin, you rolled down the windows, letting the wind whip through the car as you drove a little faster, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Ellie chuckled at your antics, but her enjoyment turned to mild concern when she noticed the speed increasing.

"C-calm down. There's no need to drive so fast," she warned, her tone laced with caution.

"Ughh!! You’re a buzzkill!" you exclaimed, sticking your head out of the window, the music blaring even louder now, practically vibrating the entire car. 

"Hey! Enough seriously! " Ellie started to protest, but her words were lost in the rush of the wind and the pulsating beat of the music. 

"Ellie! Take the fucking wheel!" you suddenly exclaimed, thrusting your hands out of the window along with your head, bending your body over the window ledge. You were sexy and unstoppable, the wind blowing perfectly against your face and hair.

Ellie, although taken aback, tried not to panic. In a swift move, she grabbed the wheel, taking control of the car and attempting to steer it. The rush of wind and the blaring music was chaotic yet exhilarating. This wasn't an unusual occurrence for her; she was used to your careless and rebellious behavior. However, it always managed to take her by surprise.

You stopped and took the wheel once again, closing the windows and slowing down as Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. "We're here!" you giggled excitedly, undoing your seatbelt and hopping out of the car, with Ellie following behind you.

Approaching the grand mansion, you marveled at its luxury. It stood tall and stunning, illuminated by soft lights against the night sky. Beautiful gardens surrounded it completely.

You walked towards the entrance, excitement building with each step. As you opened the door, you were suddenly greeted by a woman.

"You made it!" she exclaimed.

“I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" you responded.

The lady, still smiling, welcomed you inside with a gesture. “Come on in!” she exclaimed, holding the door open.

As you entered, you turned and waved for Ellie to come along.

Ellie followed behind you. As she looked around, her amazement grew. The party inside was anything but average. The upbeat music filled the air as people danced energetically, drinks flowed freely, and couples were intimately occupied on couches and stairs. She even noticed some people snorting drugs in the bathroom.

Turning towards Ellie, you leaned in and whispered, "Psst, a secret! I didn't even know that lady..."

Ellie laughed softly at your secret. "Really? She seemed to know you, though," she replied.

“I mean, my face is practically everywhere!”

"It must be weird, though. Having people recognizing you and praising you for your beauty. It's quite a big responsibility, isn't it?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by the attention?"

“No, I get the fascination,” you replied, walking over to grab a soda.

"It's pretty funny how unfazed you are," she replied with a smile. “I have to admit, it’s fucking admirable.”

“Aw, don't flirt with me so obviously now,” you teased, grinning as you took a sip of your soda.

Ellie felt her cheeks flush at your remark, catching her off guard. "It's fucking hard not to," she replied, unable to take her gaze away from yours.

“You listen well; you dropped the bossy act,” you teased, playfully bumping your shoulder into hers.

“Fucking try me,” Ellie scoffed, leaning into your ear.

"I'm too busy dancing!" you said, playfully walking away from Ellie.

Approaching a woman who had clearly been checking you out since you entered. With a confident smile, you asked her if she wanted to dance, and she eagerly agreed. Taking her hand, you led her to the dance floor.

As Ellie observed, jealousy played across her face. She had never seen you dance, and she had to admit, she fucking loved it. It was hard for her not to envy the woman dancing with you. Despite being your bodyguard, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away. She wanted to fucking savor it.

The woman continued to get closer to you, too close for Ellie. She felt her anger rise, clenching her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms. She turned her head from side to side, attempting to release the tension building up. Suddenly you pulled the woman in for a kiss, a smile spreading across your face.

Ellie's jaw tightened.

You handed the woman a piece of paper containing your phone number before walking away, heading towards Ellie with exhaustion in your steps.

“Ugh, I need water!!” you exclaimed, your legs giving out from dancing.

"You seem pretty tired," she remarked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, she's been eyeing me the moment I walked in!” you exclaimed, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “I thought I'd give her a chance, and she did not disappoint.”

"Do you just give anyone a chance when they look at you with desire?" she questioned sternly, her tone cold. The jealousy was consuming her, and she was struggling to keep her emotions in check.

“Why does it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely surprised that she cared.

Ellie had to admit, you were right. She was just your bodyguard; it shouldn’t matter to her.

Suddenly, the woman approached you, handing you a beer. "Sorry for exhausting you, princess," she said, only fueling Ellie's jealousy further.

"Princess...? What the fuck," Ellie replied, her anger building up.

The woman looked at Ellie with confusion and scoffed. "And you are..?"

Ellie felt her stomach sink as she met the woman's gaze with a cold, sharp glare. "I'm her bodyguard," she stated firmly, her tone conveying her authority. "It's my job to make sure nothing happens to her. And from what I've seen, you're getting way too close for my liking."

The woman chuckled arrogantly. "Yeah? Well, I don't give a fuck," she replied, smirking as she put her arm around your shoulder.

Ellie had reached her limit. The audacity of this fucking woman,

"Don’t fucking touch my client," Ellie threatened coldly, maintaining a sharp look.

Unfazed, the woman put her beer down aggressively. "What're you going to do?!?" she challenged, now getting closer to Ellie. She was testing limits and crossing lines, pushing Ellie to the edge.

"Hey! Stop it!" you exclaimed, stepping in between Ellie and the woman. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Causing unnecessary shit."

Bothered, the woman picked up her beer and threw it at you, the liquid soaking your hair and dress. "Fucking bitch.." she muttered angrily, beginning to walk away. 

You stood there, now with beer dripping from you, frustration and disbelief on your face. 

You let out a scoff, your frustration boiling as you lunged at the woman. Your anger fueled your movements as you tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you unleashed a blow of punches, each blow landing with force on her face. The sound of your fists meeting her bloodied nose, the woman grunting in pain. She had no fucking chance. 

Ellie watched the scene before her, her eyes widening as she witnessed. 

The people at the party even began crowding around, watching and recording with excitement. The situation had spiraled out of control. With the woman's face bloodied and bruised, her right eye swollen shut, you smudged your face with hers, rubbing the beer she had thrown at you onto her face.

“cunt.”  You muttered, finally standing up, your knuckles completely stained in red.

You began walking towards the door, the crowd following right behind you. Ellie, still standing near the door, was fucking stunned. Completely speechless. 

You opened the door and headed towards your car. Fastening your seatbelt, you yelled out the window, "ELLIE, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!!" 

Ellie jolted as she quickly made her way to the car. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment from the crowd's whispers and stares. You swerved, aligning the passenger seat with the main entrance. Lowering the window, it allowed ellie to jump into the seat through it. However, not giving her time to fully get in, you accelerated quickly with half of her body still hanging outside. 

“wait, wait, wait!!” Ellie exclaimed loudly, her eyes shut tight as she desperately gripped onto the seat. “You’re fucking crazy!!” she yelled. 

You were definitely making the headlines again. 

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie fanfic #ellie fanfiction #ellie williams au

[itsscromp]

5 months

A story inspired by this TikTok I hope you all enjoy 😊😊 word count:1.2k

Simon woke up to the all to familiar bright lights and beeping sounds of the hospital. He groaned in pain as he felt like he couldn't move. Thankfully he was spared as you were there to dim the lights after seeing him awake.

"Hey buddy... How are you feeling ??" You asked, To which he replied to a dry cough, water please.

You gently handed him the cup of water and placed the straw into his mouth, Taking a few sips. "What... Happened ??" He asked.

You looked down for a little bit and sighed. "The entire building was rigged with explosives, We began to run out before i found out you weren't behind me. Me and soap began to move the rubble that was in the explosives... and well" You looked over at his badly broken body. Both legs were broken, One arm was broken and 5 cracked ribs.

"The doctor said you won't be back on your feet for a least 3 months"

"Fucking hell..." He sighed.

Regardless, you were happy to keep him company and help him whenever you could. 3 months came by and he was finally free of those damned casts. He could be able to move freely.

But one night, upon closer inspection when he got out of the shower. He lost a lot of muscle, and seemed to gain a little bit of weight too... "This cannot get any worse" He started to tear up, He was already self conscious about his body as it is, this was just almost insult to injury.

He tried to shrug it off for the next week, trying to squeeze in any workouts as he could. But every time someone walks past him, he would always get some form of comment. "Nice tits lieutenant" "Need a training bra ??" "Give us one squeeze please ??" He had to fight every instinct to not throw a weight at there heads... But they were right.

He stood there in his room, looking at his worthless body, His abs weren't as defined anymore. His pecs could hardly be called pecs. His biceps seemed to almost have deflated. Not to mention the pudgy sides around his waist seem to top over. As he started to tear up again, He began to repeatedly smash the mirror in front of him. he hated seeing himself like this. He did was a fucking passion.

You heard the smashed glass and rushed toward his room, Trying your best to pull him away. "Easy easy !!"

"Get off of me !!" He cried out.

"Simon relax, relax... It's just me" You gently took his hands and squeezed them gently. Looking at him in the eyes.

You could see the anger, sadness and insecurity the had, He has already been through a lot and this... This just fucking hurt him.

"Come here, let me have a look" You gently took his hand and inspected it, Just grazes, not deep cuts. So you went and got the first aid kit.

As you treated his wound, he looked down at the floor, seeing the tears fall down. "I fucking hate myself..."

"Simon... Please don't say that" You finished wrapping has bandages and looked at him.

"I do, y/n... Look at me... I'm not what I am" He started to cry a tad bit heavier.

You gently wrapped your arms around him, you knew this was hurting him badly, you didn't want to see him hurt. So later that night, you began to figure out a workout routine. One that was while excruciating, you knew this would get him back to what he once was.

The following morning, you burst into his room, blowing a whistle, and making him jolt awake. "What are we still doing sleeping around lieutenant !! Gym gear on and meet me in the gym !!" You did your best coach voice and urged him out.

Simon was a tad bit shocked when he saw you, But regardless he got his gym clothes on and soon followed you. You had set everything up. Weights, cardio, courses, and protein shakes. "For our warm up I want you to do 30 push ups"

"Y/n..."

"Don't talk back, Don't give up come on let's go !!"

He knew you meant well as he did his 30 pushups. Today you were his best friend and now his coach, You had him do a lot of things. But when it came to rest period, you brought him over to the mirror.

"I want you to take your shirt off"

He froze as you said that, But you gave him reassuring eyes knowing that it was just you two, He trusted you... So slowly he took off his shirt, He looked away from the mirror once he saw his pudgy stomach. But you gently went up to him. "You know what I see Simon ??"

He kept his eyes away from the mirror but turned to look at you, Giving you a soft look. "I see... Someone who has worked really hard today. Someone who is the strongest being that I have come to know and love. Someone who I know will work hard to see himself again. It will take time, But I know you got this Simon. Just don't beat yourself up... I know this"

You struggled for a while on your body and how you looked as well, You didn't want to see Simon sad and angry at himself.

"Yeah... Ok"

After the gym session, he went back to his room and saw that the mirror had been replaced, he didn't think much to begin with, But he took your advice in hand and went over to it. Taking his shirt off again, this time looking at himself, while yes it will be hard... "I can do this, I can... It'll take time" He said as he gently rubbed his stomach and patted it.

The training sessions continued and got harder, But you helped push Simon to his limit and to the point where he didn't know he was capable of, Downing every protein bar or shake he could, and making sure he looked at himself in the mirror after every session, to learn to love the body that he is in.

5 months later.

Simon wiped his sweat as he placed down the weights, It was hard, excruciating, and sometimes even painful, But it was all worth it, he began to workout shirtless again like he used to. Walking to the mirror with the upmost confidence, looking at himself, and flexing his biceps, he saw the snake-like veins had come back. His manly pecs have sprung back to life, he smirked as he began to pop his pecs, his Terry crews vibes were you could say... "Popping off" and his 6-pack abs have been upgraded to an 8-pack. But the smallest difference is there was the tiniest amount of pudge on his sides. but he could let that slide, all he knew was that he was happy with the way he was.

You walked into the gym and saw him looking at himself, all happy. "I knew you could do it" You smiled up at him.

"No thanks to you sergeant" He smiled and ruffled your hair, he was super thankful for you, his best friend and coach. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. "Ok muscles don't crush me" You chuckled as did he.

Simon worked his ass off for 5 months, and it paid off big time. All thanks to you.

Taglist: @callofdudes

#platonic #reader insert #simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

[holybibly]

Yesterday I was talking to one of my bunnies and we had a very interesting discussion. Remembering San's life with the famous search for "fan fiction", I thought: what if someone from Ateez could be one of my anonymous bunnies?

So here we are. Which member do you most resemble, bunny? Tell me in the comments. I'm interested.

Ateez as bannies in Holy Bibly blog

Seonghwa - Mommy's most obedient bunny ♥ First one to find the blog ♥ Totally under the spell of atmosphere ♥ Wants to call me Mommy ♥ Totally shameless but extremely obedient ♥ Wants to be called only "Good Boy/Sugar Bunny" ♥ Always asks permission before touching himself: "I've been a good mommy, can I play with myself?" ♥ Gets bored and needy if there are no answers from me ♥ Favourite AU! - Submissive idol, Mommy Hwa, bunny/kitten hybrid, househusband ♥ If he doesn't get attention, he goes a little crazy ♥ Every day he asks me how I'm doing and shows a lot of concern for me. ♥ Biting his lips and whimpering when he sees my answers ♥ Favourite ff - ℌ𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔦𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 ♥ A passionate desire to be the most loved bunny in the world ♥ A slut for compliments ♥ Uses his cute little bunny toy to rub his pretty cock all over it ♥ Silk pajamas and sweets ♥ A blushing, aching mess ♥ Soft NSFW Links ♥ "I'll be always belong to you, Mommy" ♥ He prides himself on being the most beloved bunny. ♥ He's jealous but doesn't show it because he doesn't want to upset me. ♥ When he touches himself, he moans and whimpers. ♥ Absolutely precious boy ♥ Writes tender vulgar messages in DMs ♥ He puts his fingers in his mouth, drools on them and rolls his eyes. ♥ Always asks for permission before he cum: "Please, Mommy, can I cum now? I've been such a good little bunny for you." ♥ Checking my blog is the first thing he does when he wakes up. ♥ In general, he really wants to be pampered and to be adored.

San - Shy and gentle / toxic bunny ♥ He found out about the blog by chance. He saw a message about the new post on Hwa's phone. ♥ At first he was terribly embarrassed by all the things. But then he became too addicted. ♥ He calls me My Lady, but secretly he yearns to call me Mommy. ♥ The only time he checks the blog is at night, when he is alone. ♥ He is too quick to be turned on by even the most innocent of messages. It just does things for him. ♥ Too shy to send a request, but would really like to do so. ♥ Wants to be called "Kitten/Handsome Boy", but secretly goes by "Sir". ♥ He is jealous and wants to have my full attention. ♥ Favourite AU! - Kitten Hybrid, Royal, Striptease/Sex Work, Professor Choi ♥ Licks his lips all the time during reading ♥ Bites his shirt so Mingi and Seonghwa can't hear how loud he moans when he jerks off. ♥ The kind of guy who likes to rub his dick all over the sheets ♥ He has a penchant for nipple stimulation. ♥ Favourite ff - ℑ𝔱'𝔰 𝔜𝔬𝔲 ♥ Discovery of new kinks in himself after reading my work ♥ After several months of keeping quiet, he plucks up the courage to ask request. ♥ Overly excited about Sugar Weekend, but actually his favourite part is Unholy Hours ♥ Generally torn between wanting to be the best kitty and wanting to control me. ♥ One of the most possessive bunnies here. ♥ A bit of a toxic bunny, but very sweet.

Yeosang - lost/curious bunny

♥ Found the blog because Woo couldn't shut up about it. ♥ Confused by all the requests and the frankness of the bunnies ♥ The first few weeks he didn't understand what was going on. ♥ Literally 🧍🏻He even had to ask Hwa about it. He got a detailed lecture with a demonstration of the materials. ♥ The more he reads, the more addicted he is to it. ♥ He've set up notifications to alert him to new posts so he doesn't miss anything. ♥ He giggles and kicks his legs like a schoolgirl when he reads my replies to the other bunnies. ♥ Gentle baby. ♥ Favourite AU! - Heavy Dom Yeosang, Toxic Boyfriend, Sugar Baby. ♥ Calls me "Miss" or "My Queen". ♥ A very polite bunny who keeps asking me how I'm doing: "My Queen, are you looking after yourself well? You need to drink a lot of water and take vitamins". ♥ Really excited about Yeosang Unni - this is his Roman Empire. ♥ He masturbates in the shower and thinks about all my works. ♥ Each time he remembers the request for a bunny and a shower head. ♥ Moaning in a low and deep voice - "velvet moaning", his favourite phrase. ♥ Wants to be brave and send a request for the Unholy Hour. But doesn't know how to do it properly. ♥ An exquisite bunny with an elegant taste. ♥ He is a little puffy due to the amount of work about him, but he is waiting for Pastor Yeosang and is literally counting the hours until the publication. ♥ Because he wants to have an intimate relationship with me, he doesn't want to discuss it with others. ♥ He loves to be called "My love"

Hongjoong - cheeky/slutty bunny ♥ Finds out about the blog through Hwa. He talks about it all the time, bragging left and right about all the attention he gets from me. Also because of Wooyoung and Mingi's fight over the position of my favorite bunny. ♥ He immediately jumps on the topic. ♥ He has no shame "I'm good in all position" ♥ He boldly communicates with other bunnies, replies to comments and starts whole threads. ♥ No requests, he will write to me in DM right away. ♥ Favourite FF - 𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔉𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡 ♥ Sneaks around on web sites looking for new fur coats ♥ Wants me to call him "Daddy" when he calls me "Mommy". ♥ Attention eater ♥ Maddening jealous: "I just want you to think about me all the time. I'm your favourite bunny." ♥ When tired or upset, comes to talk about his day. ♥ Won't shut up about the results of the voting for a "gift" fic: "You know I'm better than Mingi, right?" ♥ Creates his own sex playlist. ♥ Fan of NSFW Links ♥ Jerks off late at night in his studio. Also likes to touch himself in the shower. ♥ Saves his favourite parts of ff in a separate file. ♥ A moaning mess. ♥ Sometimes forgets his cocky behaviour and asks me to look after him. ♥ All in all very gentle and needy. ♥ Loves to be intimate. ♥ Reading works about Hwa on the sly: "That's my boy" - heartly. ♥ Likes to have conversations with me about kinks. ♥ Favourite AU! - Sugar Daddy, Wolf/Leopard Hybrids, Dilf, Pirate King, CEO

Wooyoung - needy/brat bunny ♥ Found out about the blog by stealing Yeosang's phone. Poor guy choked on his protein shake when he saw Woo looking at the blog. ♥ Totally in love with everything that happens. ♥ Lives and breathes thanks to my work. ♥ Priest Wooyoung is his Roman Empire, rubbing it in everyone's face how fucking hot it was. ♥ He is shameless and open to the point of being impossible. ♥ DM messages 24/7 a day. ♥ He likes to flirt with the other bunnies. ♥ Likes to be called "Good boy / Sweetheart / Foxy". ♥ Will talk about anything and everything in the world. ♥ He deliberately upsets me so that he gets punished: "I've been such a bad bunny, is Mommy going to punish me?" ♥ Loves humiliation. ♥ Calls me "Mommy" in a very horny way. ♥ Spams me with the most depraved requests on a non-stop basis. ♥ Favourite AU! - Fox/Kitten hybrid, sugar baby, toxic boyfriend, religion, sugar daddy (he believes in his potential). ♥ Possesses jealousy: "I can be the only one, can't I?" ♥ Likes to deny himself an orgasm while reading - wants to cum with the characters. ♥ Always horny, so our correspondence tends to be more like a dirty-talking manual. ♥ Comfortably oversized clothes and bulging veins in his forearms. ♥ Favorite FF - 𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 ♥ He is incredibly affectionate: "Mommy, do you want me to take care of you? I'm going to behave, I promise". ♥ He will have the audacity to tell me that he masturbates and will ask me to help him with it. ♥ Incredibly loud when he's jerking off. Doesn't care who hears him. Has an amazing time and can't think of anything else. ♥ After a hard day, he loves jerking off in his bed. He takes his time and spreads the pleasure all over the place. Of course, he cum without permission. ♥ "I want to be punished, Mommy".♥ All in all, a soft loverboy.

Yunho - shy/slutty bunny

♥ Finds out about the blog from Hwa. Follows him like a lost puppy until Seonghwa shares the link. ♥ He is a bit shy at first, but he quickly gets involved. ♥ He leaves comments and sends sweet messages to the inbox like an energetic and inspired bunny. ♥ Shy to DM me, but really wants to. ♥ Unholy hours are his thing. ♥ Has a tendency towards corruption kink, size kink, size training. ♥ Yungi is his favourite pairing. ♥ Obediently waits for the second part of BOTH. ♥ Prefers to be called "Pretty boy/Puppy/Sugar bunny". ♥ Calls me "My Lady", but wants to be strong enough to call me "Mistress".♥ Shyly asks for permission to touch himself "May I? Please" ♥ He had no idea how crazy everyone was about his hands until he'd read my work. ♥ Will definitely try putting them in his mouth before mirror to see how that works. ♥ Waiting for new posts like an impatient puppy. ♥ Very excited about the upcoming Priest Yunho fic. Secretly angry about the fact that Wooyoung is the only one who has had his own fic in this series so far. ♥ Favourite AU! - Sugar Daddy, Sub Idol, Yandere, Office, Wolf/Golden Retriever Hybrid ♥ Checks the blog a couple of times a day. ♥ Usually jerks off in the late hours of the night after everyone else has gone to bed. ♥ Cries and pants when he starts playing with himself. ♥ He likes to be overstimulated. He cums at least 3-4 times and brings himself to tears. ♥ He has a fake pussy that he can play with. ♥ "It's so fucking tight, fuck" ♥ He will definitely tell me what he did yesterday evening. ♥ Other than that, he is just a sweet, golden boy.

Mingi - shameless/horny bunny ♥ He found out about the blog when Yunho accidentally spilled the beans about it. ♥ He fell in love immediately and forever. ♥ I'm definitely his favourite. ♥ Loves to read comments, has a big grin on his face all the time. ♥ Very full of himself. ♥ He gets horny too fast and is able to jerk off several times a day. ♥ Calls me "Mistress" in the most perverse manner. ♥ Sends me requests, writes in DMs, and wants my complete and all-consuming attention. ♥ Competing for be favourite bunny on the blog with Seonghwa. ♥ Prefers to be called "Dirty Boy/Fox". ♥ He will definitely write to me in DM to tell me how much he gets turned on by what I write. ♥ Receives a notification every time a new post is made. ♥ "You can put a collar around my neck and strangle me to death, mistress." ♥ He's waiting for a fic about himself as a fox hybrid, he thinks he'd look great with a bushy tail. ♥ DIRTY TALK ♥ He is very possessive: "I would hate to share you with anyone else". ♥ He tests my patience ♥ ℭ𝔯𝔞𝔷𝔶 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔪 is his religion. ♥ Favourite AU! - Pervert Idol, Sugar Daddy, Striptease/Sex Work, Professor Mingi, Vampire. ♥ He likes to stroke his dick while reading, he is in no hurry with the pleasure. ♥ "Are you going to punish me, Mistress? I've been such a naughty boy." ♥ To punish him, I decided to write down the most detailed dirt on him and send it to him at a totally unexpected time. ♥ He bites his lips and moans softly, swearing terribly. ♥ However, he adores me and will never stop complimenting me.

Jongho - innocent/not innocent bunny

♥ He has no idea why his Hyungs are so obsessed with my blog. Figures it all out for himself through the search for my nickname on Tumblr. ♥ Thinks the whole dynamic between me and the bunnies is funny and he smiling all the time. ♥ Slowly becoming addicted. ♥ He is very interested in the Omegaverse and how it all works. ♥ The bunny that asks questions in the inbox. ♥ "What do I have to call you?" "Are there any rules to follow?" "How open can I be with you?" ♥ Sneaky sends requests about himself to the Unholy Hours ♥ 100% enabled new posts notifications ♥ Pisses off all the Hyungs by being friends with me. ♥ He and Yunho are the main gossips in the dorm and have discussions about everything and anything. ♥ A diligent and obedient bunny with a few hidden kinks. ♥ Loves hip riding, choking and spanking, these things makes him horny. ♥ He is having the time of his life. ♥ Favourite AU! - Sugar Daddy, Hard dom, Omegaverse, Idol x Idol ♥ Reads my blog all over the place, as if it were just a news portal. ♥ He is one of the most sociable bunnies, but he is still anonymous. ♥ My stories make him horny and he doesn't like to lose control of himself. ♥ He ends up masturbating in the bathroom, breathing heavily and biting the palm of his hand to stop himself from moaning out loud. ♥ Loves the idea of NSFW links. He secretly saves all the videos on his phone. ♥ Wants to be called "Darling/Sweet". ♥ He is very caring, so he is always on the lookout for my well-being. ♥ He feels very comfortable and has a lot of fun with me. ♥ He blushes like a school girl when I call him "Sugar Bunny"

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines #seonghwa smut #ateez san #san smut #hongjoong smut #ateez wooyoung #yunho smut

[ghostlywhiskey]

Simon “Ghost” Riley - Love of My Life (Simon’s POV)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,012

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ☆ grinding, fingering, spitting, unprotected sex - If anything else let me know - I'm slightly brain dead writing this.

Summary: Simon comes to your apartment to end things between you.

A/N: Fueled by the song that is my top song of all time on Spotify tee hee. Babies…we know the drill. My proofreading is always little to none. This one took forever because I struggled writing the smut for this, but cheers xoxo.

find my masterlist here

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

“Hey.” My voice sounds so fucking small and pathetic standing in the doorway of her apartment, hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Hey.” She repeats, moving out of the way to let me walk inside.

Somehow trying to breathe while getting waterboarded is easier compared to trying to breathe with the tension in the air between us. 

Walking inside, I kick my shoes off as she closes the door and walks toward her room. Quietly following her it feels like walking with a ball and chain around both ankles. My body is trying to prevent me from going into her room because it’s trying to reject what it already knows. 

She sits down on her bed and I shrug off my jacket, letting it hang off the back of her desk chair as I sit down on it. The silence hangs over us, she’s looking down at her hands. The way she fidgets with her rings indicates she’s nervous. It’s my fault, I’m the one who told her we had to talk. 

“An-” Stopping myself before I say ‘angel’. Not the time. Never again actually. She glances up at me, chuckling softly. “Well, that gives me an idea of where this is going.” The sound of her voice lower than normal, sadness weighing down her vocal cords. The thing is, I can’t even deny her comment. Part of me wants to just say, ‘No, angel. Don’t assume that. We’re fine.’ - but, it would be a fucking lie if I did.

“This would be the part where you disagree with what I’m thinking.” Shaking my head, my eyes meet hers. “But the other part you know I’m going to agree with.” I point out, quickly shooting down any hope as if it was an enemy target. “Then just say it, dammit.” Something snaps in her, I’m the reason for it.

I’m also the reason she lays awake crying when I’m away on missions. The reason she doesn’t have a normal boyfriend who can see her more often than not. The reason she’s left anxious when I don’t reply to a text or a call in a certain amount of time. The reason she feels more alone despite having a man who has loved her more than anything in this life. I wish I didn’t live up to the name ‘Ghost’ when it comes to her, but it’s the one mission I’ve failed.

“I’m letting you go.” The only words I’m able to get out. Because there isn't anything else to say, to me it is as simple as that. She blinks a few times, processing the four words that left my mouth. “Letting me go?” She re-states, confirming what I just said. “Yeah.” I’m detaching my emotions from my words. 

I take you with me every time I go away

The polaroid sat snug between my fingers. It’s replaced the pack of cigarettes I’d once itch to reach for and drag ‘til it was time for another. How is a little image the only thing that relieves any ounce of stress in my body? From one addiction to another, somehow this one feels a lot  deadlier. If only she was as accessible as a pack of cigarettes. She tastes a hell of a lot sweeter between my lips that's for sure. Maybe that’s why this addiction is worse - having a taste every now and then has me crawling back home for more. 

Fuck this shit. I’m fucked. 

Soap nudges my arm, my attention pulled from the drug of choice in my hand. “Is that who I ‘tink it is?” He questions me. The bloody Scot knows the answer to his question. “Oi, why you asking questions you know the answer to?” A grin forms on his face. “Never thought I’d see ‘da day you look fuckin’ smitten is all. Even behind the mask it’s obvious.” And thank fuck for the mask or he’d see I look like I’ve got the worst sunburn of my life. 

“You and me both it seems.” My attention went back to the polaroid, now held between my thumb and pointer finger. Brushing my thumb across the picture of her is like opening flood gates for my mind to imagine she’s right here. As if brushing my thumb over it would have her appear like a genie from a bottle. 

If only it were that fucking easy. 

I remember back at Johnny's place, it's not the same anymore

“Johnny, I’m not a party person.” I state into his ear as I’m trying to leave his apartment. The apartment had slowly filled with people for his birthday, but I was ready to jump out the window. “No, you’ve got to stay!” He protested, putting an arm around my neck. I huff, glancing at him. “One more hour and I’m gone.” Smiling wide, he cheered. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” 

“I need a fuckin’ drink.” The words coming out of my mouth as I walk to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. A girl sits on the counter, a cup in her hand as she stares at the crowd of people filling the living room. She looks uncomfortable, but that isn’t my problem. I grab a plastic cup, pouring some whiskey. 

“Are you a dad?” Her voice fills the kitchen. A dad? My brows furrow, turning to look at her. “The whiskey. That’s your drink of choice?” She asks, glancing at the cup before her eyes meet mine. “What?” The confused tone laced in my words. “All the old men in my life drink whiskey.” She slides off the counter, walking over to me. “Well, I’m not in your life. Or old.” I huff, glancing at her cup and nod towards it. “What’s your drink of choice?” 

She smiles, turning the cup upside down over the sink. “Nothing, just pretending.” She chuckles. “I’m the driver tonight since I didn’t even want to be here.” Well, that makes two of us. “You know Soap?” Her expression turns into a confused one, quickly correcting my mistake. “I mean John.” Only then does she nod. “My friend is seeing him, which is why I’m here in the kitchen hiding out. I don’t know anyone out there.” Now, I can’t help but smile. “Mind if I hide with you in here?” I chuckle, sipping the whiskey. 

“If you drink that whiskey, absolutely I mind. But I guess you’re in my life now, so you get a pass.” She teases.

It's unfortunate, ooh Just coordinates, ooh

“Hi, Simon.” Her voice easing every tense muscle in my body, coming undone like a child ripping a Christmas present open with urgency. “Hi, angel.” Responding to her as I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder, sitting down on the bed to undo my boots. “How was your day?” 

“Hmm,” She hums, the sound of her shifting in her sheets fills my ear as I wait for the response. “It was okay, nothing exciting.”

“Where are you this time?” She’s forcing herself to stay awake, I can hear it in her voice. Moments like this I feel selfish having her in my life. Is it selfish? Selfish to love someone who hears your voice over a phone more than they hear it raw and undistorted face-to-face. It has to be. “Mexico. It’s hot a shit.” I mutter, kicking my boots off. Her giggle on the other end puts the first smile on my face today. “What’s so funny, huh?” My brows furrow, grabbing the phone as the floor becomes the fixation of my gaze. The giggle fading as she starts to speak, “I think it’s funny I’m more concerned of you getting heat stroke with that damn mask than anything else.”

“No need to be concerned.” A stupid, dopey smile forms on my face despite how stern my voice sounds. “Easier said than done.” Her response is quick, no thought behind it or second guessing it. A sigh escapes my lips,  “Angel, I mean it. Don’t be concerned.” My eyes wander around the room as I wait for her reply. Why is she so quiet all of a sudden? “Angel?”

“Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out for a second.” The sound of her sniffle followed by a nervous laugh tells me enough. She couldn’t hide her emotions if her life depended on it. “Please don’t cry.” My own voice is strained, every time she gets upset I feel worse about having her in my life. “Don’t tell me what to do, Lieutenant.” She teases, but her laugh this time just sounds sad. My upper body falls back against the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling. “Too bad. I’m telling you what to do.” 

“Simon?” How do I tell her I want to hear her say my name for the rest of my life? “Yeah, baby?” I responded. “I miss you.” Fuck. My throat feels like someone is tightening a rope around it. Why can’t they just fucking cut my air supply off while they are at it? 

The rope loosens, the air coming back into my lungs as I inhale and exhale out. “I miss you too.” My free hand runs down my face, dragging down to rest itself on my chest. “I’ll be home soon, yeah? Then it will just be us. How does that sound?” The thump beneath my fingers intensifies. Closing my eyes for a moment, I focus on the heartbeat. The thought of her next to me. Hiding us from the world in the confines of my apartment walls. I’m not a religious man, but that sounds like heaven. Would God let me in? Would he let me stay? I’m not deserving of either option. But, I’m getting on my knees and fucking praying for at least a few moments.

“It sounds like a plan to me.” Finally, I can tell she’s smiling again on the other side of the phone. 

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

I think standing on the edge of a cliff would ignite less anxiety in me than sitting on the edge of her right now. The familiarity of being close to death is far more comforting than the unfamiliarity of breaking my own heart so she can live life finding the love she deserves. My legs spread as my elbows rest on my thighs, running my hands through my hair. 

We’ve been going back and forth arguing about breaking up for the past hour now. “So, that’s it?” Her voice punched me back into reality as I looked at her across the room. Her arms crossed as she leaned against her desk.

No. I don’t want it to be. But, I can’t be selfish. You deserve better. 

“That’s it.” I confirm her question, the words coming out of me and taste as bitter as vomit. Except I want to swallow the vomit back up. My eyes go back down to the floor between my feet, scared if I look back at her I’ll swallow the vomit back up. And I can’t.

Her breathing is soft in the dark bedroom, it’s the only sound mixed with my own breathing. And the blood I hear pumping through my body at an alarming rate. “Could I have done anything differently that would have avoided this?” 

God dammit, angel. You were never the problem. 

“Stop that. Don’t think for a second you’re to blame.” Just look at her, stop looking at the floor, dickhead. “Look me in the eyes and say that then.” Her voice strained, my head tilted up to look at her. Sighing, I push myself off the bed, jumping off the cliff. In a few steps, I’m standing in front of her. My hand slips past her neck, slipping behind her head as my fingers tangle in her hair. 

Gently, the hand tugs her hair gently for her to look up at me. “I’m lookin’ at you and I’m tellin’ you that you couldn’t have done anything.” It feels like her eyes are peeling every layer of me back, trying to look for any sign that I’m regretting this deep down. “You’re never gonna get what you deserve from me.” The sound of my voice breaking at the end is the first time I’ve let it show emotion tonight. The tears slowly built up in her eyes, my gaze locked on her. She knows I’m right. Again, it’s just something she doesn’t want to admit. “Simon.” Her voice breaks the same time the first tear slides down her cheek.  

My hand slips from behind her head, both of them moving to cup her face. “Angel.” I finally just pull the fucking bandaid off and say my nickname for her after avoiding it this entire time. My head leans down to rest my forehead against hers, her own hands moved to my face. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” She begs. Thumbs wiping her tears as they cascade down. “I need to, angel. I need to.” I don’t want to, but I never deserved you. The gentle tug of my head caused by her hands, lips connecting with mine. 

She tastes so sweet between my lips, just how I always remember she tastes. But this time it’s mixed with the salty taste of her tears. 

She steps forward, causing me to step back. She keeps walking until my legs hit the bed, my body accepts the fact I can’t move back anymore and drops down to it. Pulling her onto my lap, her arms snake around my neck. The kiss never breaks. I think we’re both scared that if we stop that one of us will try to convince the other we can’t do this. My hands slip under her shirt, one on her waist while the other reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.

My hand stops as my fingers graze the clasp. Don’t do it. Fucking hell, don’t. The tips of my fingers rubbing the clasp to get a feel for it, like I’m trying to pick a lock. The wings of the bra separating as my fingers unclasp the hook. Successfully, the lock has been picked. Once undone, my hands move to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Only then do our lips separate to let the shirt pass through and give us a chance to catch our breaths. We aren’t scared this time to separate, knowing we won’t stop each other. As I pull her shirt off, she slides the bra straps down her arms and flings it to the floor. 

While we are separated, I take the opportunity to remove my own shirt. Our clothes started to pile on the floor as we discarded them. Her chest pressing against mine as she moves back in to kiss me, her hips moving against me. Her skin is always so cold, it sends chills up my spine when it comes in contact with my own. My hands slip down to her hips, grabbing them as I help her move against me back and forth.

The only sound besides our kisses are the soft groans building in my throat, my pants becoming a straight jacket against my crotch the longer she grinds against me. “Get rid of the fucking clothes, fuck.” I mutter against her lips, pushing her off my lap as she stumbles to catch her balance. Reaching back out to pull her to stand between my legs, hands on either side of her thighs, running them up to the waistband of her leggings. My head leaning in to place kisses on her stomach, glancing up at her. Her own hands glide through my hair before she gently tugs, another groan leaving my as I pull the leggings down along with her panties. 

It’s shitty for me to give into this. I know it is. It opens the door for us to forget about the conversation we just had, but I’m not forgetting it. I’m leaving after this.

Fingers gently graze her core, her heat radiating as I spread her folds open. My own palm faces me as her already wet cunt is begging for something to clench around as my ring and index finger rub back and forth between her folds. “Always so f’ckin’ ready.” Our eyes are not moving to look away from each other as her hands tug my hair to keep me looking up at her. “Stop teasing. Please.” She begs, her thighs trying to squeeze together but my knee moving to keep her legs separated. “You know how much I like to see you dripping before I even fuck you.” She whines at my response, but it amplifies louder as the two fingers push into her. Her knees slightly bend, causing a chuckle to escape my lips. “Weak at the knees, are you?” Teasing, I kiss her stomach again. “Ngh..” She groans, her hand reaching to grab my wrist. 

Not fighting her back, she pulls my hand away, fingers already coated in her juices. I love how responsive her body is for me. Good luck to the next bastard who has to try and compete with the memory I leave her body with.

As she pulls my hand away, I tug it out of her grasp, slipping the fingers into my mouth to clean. A soft hum against my fingers. So sweet. Once satisfied, my pants are pulled down and I stand up to shrug them off my ankles. Both completely bare now, my arms move to pick her up to move her onto her bed. Hovering over her as she lays on the bed, I push her legs apart and settle between her legs. Like muscle memory, her legs bend slightly and lift to rest her heels on my lower back. 

Supporting myself up, my palms rested by her forearms, but one hand moved to rest over her mouth for a brief moment. “Spit.” And just like the good girl she is, she spits on my palm as some of it drips down her chin. My palm coming up to my mouth as I also spit on it before reaching down to pump my cock. Guiding it to her folds, the tip teases her as I move my cock with my hand to slide between her folds and move side to side to tease her. Her whine again fills my ears, a smirk turns my blank expression into a mischievous one. “Say what you want.” Another order directed to her, her hips lift slightly as she grabs my forearm with one hand. “Fuck me, Simon.” All I needed to hear right now, fuck the teasing is the only thought in my head as I position myself. My hand dropped back to her side as I held myself up and thrusted into her. 

Her initial cry out from the pressure filling her always sends me over the edge. I swear it might be enough to make me fill her right then and there most times. “Perfect fuckin’ fit.” I grumble, my head leaning down to kiss her. Her lips meet mine before I even make it all the way down to her, her hand reaching around my head to pull me closer. The moans from her echoing into my head as she kissed me. Palms now fisting the sheets in my hands, my hips thrust into her roughly. 

Rough and slow - just how she likes it. Finding a rhythm, I stick to it and hold for a few moments every time my hips meet her skin. Burying myself in her like I’m digging my grave, except this won’t be my final resting place. I pull from the kiss, looking down at her. “Eyes on me, got it?” She nods, her eyes only closing for a moment as I thrust into her again and drag out slowly before repeating my thrust just as my tip is on the edge of losing contact with her. She whimpers, and I grab her face in my hands. “Eyes.” I hiss, her eyes opening immediately to stare at me. Her lips spread open slightly as she pulls in oxygen and exhales a moan. My grip on her face releasing, her lips parting more now that she can let air in and out easier now. “Simon.” Her voice drags out the ‘-on’, my eyes watching her as she moans my name. “You sound like an angel, you know that? You say my name like it’s a prayer.” Except I can’t answer her prayers, and I know tonight they revolve around hoping I stay.

Her cheeks look like pink paint has spilled over them, she’s never been one to blush at actions, but she acted as if my words were the sweetest thing she ever heard. “You’re so gorgeous.” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s quickly covered by a groan as I feel her pulsating around my cock. The way her hands cup my face as my own eyes close, now she demands my eye contact to stay on her. “I love you, Simon.” She chokes out as my eyes open and look at her.

My pupils are already larger to adjust to the dark room, but I’m damn near positive they must look blown out when she says those words. I can’t say it back. We’ve never said it out loud. I’m not saying it now. So, I lean down to kiss her instead, a hand reaching down to grab her waist as I push both of us closer to climaxing. My lips pull from hers as I move town to her neck, kissing her skin. I can’t look at her now.

“I-I’m…Simon…more.” She begs, her arms wrapping around me, her nails dig into my back. Another hiss leaves my mouth as I feel her nails dig into my skin as I kiss her neck. “Angel.” I groan, my thrusts getting sloppy. The hand on her waist moves to her lower abdomen, pushing gently. Time to finish her off.

The squishing noises fill the room as she cries out from her climax that hits her. My own following after as I pull my head from her neck and look at her head leaning back in pleasure. My thrusts go until I feel the last bit of cum spill into her, pulling out of her and collapsing on the bed next to her.

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind Don't know where you'll land when you fly

The room is quiet, her soft breathing tickling my chest as she sleeps peacefully. My eyes are looking up at the ceiling as I try to shut off my brain and the pros and cons list forming in my head if I stay. I need to leave.

Glancing at her sleeping, I closed my eyes for a minute. Am I preparing myself to leave or remembering the image of her like this? Who am I kidding, I’ll remember her face for the rest of my life. Opening them again, my body carefully slips out of the bed. She stirs slightly, but just rolls over on her other side as she pulls the blankets closer to her body. 

Collecting my discarded clothes, I re-dress myself after the events of the night. My feet quietly walk to the edge of the bed her body is facing, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “For the best.” I whisper, standing back up straight. She doesn’t move awake, but a soft smile forms on her face while she sleeps.

Fuck. I need to get out of here. And with that, I slip out of her room and the apartment. My hands are buried in my jacket pockets as I take the elevator down, eyes fixated on the doors. I’m breaking her heart, but it doesn’t mean mine is breaking any less. I love her.

But, baby, you were the love of my life

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #call of duty #simon riley cod #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon riley angst

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Early Riser (John Price x Reader) Smut

Based on the prompt: "Keep kissing me like that and we're gonna end up back in bed."

AN: Semi-inspired by the end of Season 1!Hotch who is excited to spend annual leave doing chores with his wife. Love it when a man enters malewife mode.

In other news, I'm gonna start a Price x Reader series soon! It's gonna be a lot of angsty pining so if that's your jam, I can't wait for you to read it!

Requests are open! Here's my guidelines to read before you send in a request and a list of kiss prompts if you're stuck for ideas.

Content warnings: Smut (18+ only, minors DNI), basically Price goes down on you in the kitchen. Reader is gender neutral and genitals described are gender neutral. No use of Y/N.

Masterlist // AO3 Version

Palms pressed into the cool granite countertop, you idly watched the space to the left of your kettle as it boiled. You had barely scrounged up the energy to leave your warm bed to get this drink; you did not have anything spare to be aware whilst you prepared it. The few aspects of your mind that were awake hoped this would fit the loophole of “a watched pot never boils” so that you could return to your room as fast as possible.

Finally, the water bubbled loudly and the switch flicked off. You poured a healthy amount into both your mug and the spare one you had for guests. Steam wafted up whilst carrying the strong scent of coffee; a splash of milk sweetened it before you prepared to stir in some sugar.

Something clamped down onto your right hip. You drew in a sharp inhale before it slid out slowly, relaxing as another hand mirrored its partner and the rest of John Price folded him up against you.

“Good morning,” You whispered.

“It is now.” John’s voice rolled off his tongue like a growl, deepened by his recent rousing from sleep. He paired his reply with a kiss on your shoulder. Briefly allowing his forehead to rest where his lips had been, he then kissed your aching neck. Your heart’s eager pulse greeted him.

“Keep kissing me like that and we’re gonna end up back in bed,” You warned, despite allowing his arms to trap you in a grip a boa constrictor would be jealous of.

John let out a gentle hum; he swayed you both from side to side in time with the clink of the spoon against your mug.

Then he mumbled, “Don’t need the bed.”

The teaspoon clattered on the countertop as his hands found their marks. Instinctively, your body keened against John’s, allowing him to rut into you whilst tenderly squeezing over your pyjamas.

Your voice came out a little whinier than expected, “Don’t want breakfast then?”

“Actually, I’m famished,” John said and his coarse facial hair tickled against your cheek, “Figured I should help myself.”

A laugh tripped over your tongue into a moan before you replied: “You’re horrible. Didn’t you get enough last night?”

“Never enough. Just ran out of steam.” Calloused fingertips found the gap between your sleep shirt and trousers. They spread warmth up your torso, cupping your chest, your shirt caught on his forearm.

“John,” You let your head fall back against him, “We have time.”

“Never enough,” he repeated. “Hate waking up and you’re not there.”

“You need me now?”

“Please.”

Freed from his grasp for a split second, you pushed the coffee cups into the sink, not caring about the spilt steaming liquid that glugged down the drain, then you shoved back the sugar pot and milk. John spun then lifted you onto the cool countertop. His body was drawn back against yours, returning his lips to your neck and the evidence of his affection he’d left last night. Your hips rose up as he yanked down your pyjamas and slid down on his knees. A grunt stuck in his throat; you held back a comment about his aging joints but not the smirk.

Instead, you scratched your nails through his hair, giving it a tender tug whenever he kissed your thigh. “You’re gonna clean this up after.”

His words were half lost against your skin, “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the gutters need clearing.” You could feel his lips twitch with mirth against you before he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. “And the oven could use a scrub.”

“Make me a list.” His hands squeezed the meat of your legs to close them around his head.

A gentle sigh escaped you, “You’re so good to me.”

Looking up at you with bleary blue eyes, John whispered, “Nothing you don’t deserve.”

And, to prove his point, he rewarded you with his tongue, talented and tenacious.

#john price #john price x reader #john price fanfic #john price smut #smut #cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod oneshot #cod smut #my writing #r: gen #wc: 1k<

[w2soneshots]

Break up era -W2S

Words: 0.8k+

Warnings: angst, break up.

In which Harry breaks your heart so you book a solo trip to Greece.

a/n: I don't love this but I had to get something out for you all!!😚💞 (also please send requests to my ‘ask me anything’✉️)

Liked by mollymae and 242,179 others

y/username: meh

-comments-

taliamar: my girl, my girl🫶🏼

-> y/username: you already know😘

freyanightingale: love u

-> y/username: love u more

y/nfanpage21: she's healing😭✨

user40137927: my faith in love has disappeared.

Me and Harry broke up last week and I've been struggling. We were together for just over two years and I truly loved him with my whole heart (still do). He broke up with me because he said he'd 'lost feelings', which completely shocked me. Faith, Talia and Freya have been desperately trying to cheer me up and get me out of my apartment. I went on a shopping trip with Frey and T, as well as lunch with Faith. I also went to the gym for the first time in a while since it's meant to act little bit like therapy. None of it helped.

y/username just posted a new story!

After sitting in my apartment crying over Rapunzel and Eugene's love life I decided that I needed to get out of London, so I booked a last minute flight to a random island in Greece.

I spent the next week buying things for my trip, packing and trying to distract myself from Harry. When the day finally came I woke up early and headed to the airport via Uber. When I arrived I went through security, checked my suitcase in then spent the rest of my time in the business class lounge. Once my flight was called I left the lounge and headed to check in. When I got on the plane I found my seat and got situated, not soon after we took off.

y/username just posted a new story!

When we landed a few hours later I went to collect my bag. Then I got a taxi from the airport to a small boat that took me to the island. When I saw it on the booking website I thought it looked beautiful but it was seriously breathtaking in real life. The air smelt clean, the people are so kind and the food looks incredible.

The hotel is so rustic looking but also very well kept and clean. "Hello dear, do you have a booking?" The sweet lady at the front desk asked. "Yes I do, it should be under 'y/l/n'." I replied. "Ah! Yes, I'll show you to your room." She gestured for me to follow her with a big smile. "And here we are!" She said as I set my suitcase in the corner. "Wow this is beautiful, and what an amazing view!" I said enthusiastically while looking out of the window. She smiled "enjoy dear." And with that she left.

I spent my afternoon exploring the island then went back to the hotel to get changed for dinner. I wore a simple white knitted dress, along with some black flip-flops. I had an incredible (and surprisingly fancy) steak, along with some wine. I spoke to one of the locals for a little while before I decided to call it a night so headed back to my room.

The next day I woke to the bright sun shining through the sheer curtains. I practically jumped out of bed, got dressed then went into town to get some fresh fruit for breakfast. I then got into a swim suit and made my way down to the beach.

I sat enjoying the peace and quiet when I got a call from none other than Harry. I answered reluctantly "hello?" "Hey." He replied slowly. "What do you want Harry?" I asked with a sigh. "I'm sorry I- I know you're on holiday but- but I just wanted to apologise, and I couldn't wait any longer." He started. "Apologise for what? Because you don't love me anymore?" I said quietly. "That's just it... I do love you. I just didn't how much I did until you were gone. I don't know why I felt that way I don't know what happened." He said. "But- Harry you broke up with me... you broke my heart." He sighed "and I'm so sorry y/n," A tear slid down my face "I want to be with you but I- I understand if you don't want me anymore I-" "I still love you Harry, I always have. Of course I wanna be with you." I cut him off. Even know he hurt me I know that he wasn't trying to, he just didn't want to lead me on.

y/username

Liked by taliamar and 540,129 others

y/username: umm... that was a weird week.

-comments-

wroetoshaw: 😶

shannonlangdon: stunning stunning stunning!!

-> y/username: ❤️❤️

faithloisak: iconic⭐️

y/nfanpage21: love a good solo trip🤭

user63071426: omg!! Are they back together??

#sidemen #w2s #fanfic #harry lewis #image #oneshot #harry w2s #wrotoshaw #w2s imagine #w2s x reader #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw oneshot #wroetoshaw #harry lewis x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #instagram #instagram au

[kandavers]

ur qpr radioapple posts give me LIFE 😭😭😭 i always find myself looking forward to ur art every time i open tumblr 😔❤️

Thank you! I'm so glad to hear this ! :D

I wish people on Tiktok has the same literacy as people on Tumblr. I keep getting hate comments saying "Alastor is aroace" or worse, "Lucifer is straight" 😭 It makes me Chuckle sometimes but a lot of the times it's quite frustrating

Tiktok users don't understand that aroace people can have relationships despite their sexuality, especially queerplatonic ones. But if they can't even understand the first bit, I doubt they will the second 💀 So at this point I just give up trying to educate those 14 year olds (who shouldn't even be watching Hazbin Hotel by the way!!!)

Thank you for liking my stuff ^^ The sigh of Relief I let out when I find another person literate enough to understand my vision is like the ones people do when they remember their lost Keys are in the Other Pocket.

Here's some funny (awful) instances and it is barely even the tip of the iceberg:

I don't have extra screenshots, but their reply to my reply is usually just as horrible if not more 😃 Scroll through my Tiktok comments for a good minute and I guarantee you'll find something to laugh at (How could someone be so incredibly wrong and still argue about it?) /gen

I block all these users on Tiktok btw ^^ No need to fight my battles for me, they'll be out of our hair in no time once I hit the slay button 🔥🔥🔥

#kanrambles

[resi4skz]

Title: Starstruck (pt1)

Pairing: Chan!idol x Fem!reader

Enjoy!

Part 2 , Part 3

"The usual place?" Luna asks as I finish up decorating a cake that was due tomorrow.

"Yeah. Erica and Julie wants to go there too. Just make a reservation for," I glance at my watch. "5pm."

As she makes the reservation on the phone, I glue the white and pink fondant petals on the 2 tier cake with edible glue. It was a cute and simple cake for a 1yr old. Turning the cake turntable, I admire my work before placing it in the fridge for pickup tomorrow. "Hey, so he uploaded a video again."

I haven't turned around so fast in my life. I quickly walk over to her as she hands me her phone. Excitedly, I press play on the tiktok page she had left me. Music comes on as a man in a white skin tight full sleeve top and baggy pants comes on. He dances, showing his dance skills. I had been following him ever since he had 2 videos on his page. Now he has millions followers and loads of comments under each video.

The only downside? He wears a helmet in each one so no one really knows who he is. He's usually seen roaming the city of Seoul or videos like the one I'm watching. "Good lord, woman. You're starstruck."

I give the phone back and clean up the kitchen quickly. Sound comes from her phone and I start singing along the song 'Star Lost.' It's a song I always listen to when I need some cheering up. It's from the kpop group Stray Kids, a very popular boy group all around the world. Luna and I had always wanted to go to one of their concerts but with owning a bakery and orders piling on, we never had the time. But we both followed them on their instagram and bubble. Although I only had one bubble, the leader, the one and only Bang Chan.

After dinner, the four of us went our separate ways as we lived in different areas in the city. But I decided to stop by Han river to take a night stroll. It was nice this time around as it was getting a bit warm. Smiling, I close my eyes to feel the warm breeze of summer approaching.

I resume walking, enjoying the sound of the waves. There weren't many people around as it was pretty later and I liked that, less people to worry about. My phone buzzes as I approach a corner.

L: are you home yet?

As I'm about to reply, I walk into something. Or someone. "Ah, I'm sorr-"

My words stop in my throat as I blink at the person in front of me.

Am I seeing things?

I rub my eyes. He's wearing biker gear this time. But no helmet? I blink a few times at the back of his head. What is he doing here? It's when he turns around is the biggest surprise of my life. The black curly hair, the sharp jaw and those lips. I definitely know those lips. When my land on his eyes, I let out the biggest gasp. "You're....you're....."

"Shhh!" He says, putting his finger to his lips as he glances around. "Shit, I didn't expect for my identity to go this way."

"Holy shit. You're Bang Chan AND the biker dude?!"

Sighing, he closes his eyes, nodding his head. "Yes."

"Okay. I need to sit down. Or pinch myself," I said, transfixed at the man in front of me. "This is a dream, right?"

He laughs softly, his dimples popping. Oh my god. His dimples. "You're definitely not dreaming." He reaches up and pinches my arm.

I flinch, hissing at the sharp pain. "Ow!" Okay. Definitely not dreaming. "But what are you doing here?"

"I was trying to find a spot to film a tiktok."

"Right."

I watch him fiddle with the zipper of his biker jacket. "May I?" I asked, stepping closer to him. Once he nods, I place my hands at the front of his jacket and.....holy fuck he smells so good. Mentally cursing at myself, I pull the zipper down and step back.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied smiling.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his biker pants, turning around to take the call. After a few seconds, I take it as a sign to leave. As I'm scrambling my brain whether to tell Luna about what just happened when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, it's him again.

"Damn, you walk fast," he pants, his helmet dangling around his hand.

"Uhm, did something happen?" I asked, concerned.

"No, but," he fishes out phone again. "I wanted to ask a question."

"Okay..."

"Would you want to come to our concert?"

I almost choked on my spit. "W-what?"

"Our concert? It's this weekend."

"No. I heard you. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want me to go to your concert?" He gives a shrug to my question. "Is it to bribe me so I don't tell everyone about you?"

He gives another shrug and I laugh. "Oh my god, it is!"

"Look," he begins. "I can't have this going out otherwise my company won't let me hear the end of it."

Which was true because his company was shit. "Okay."

We exchange phone numbers. I stare at my phone with his number. Holy cannolli. I have Bang Chan's number. "I'll text you the details for the concert. Make sure to come to the backstage, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Alright, well, see ya," he says with a wink before putting on his helmet and sprinting away.

A little later when I'm home getting ready for bed, my phone chimes. Thinking it's Luna, I pick it up but freeze when I see the name on the screen.

C: did you get home okay?

Y/N: yes, was just getting ready for bed

C: oh? It's only 11pm

I snort at his text.

Y/N: only you would think it's early but I have been up since 5am and would like a 10hr nap with no interruptions

As soon as I hit send, my phone rings loudly making me jump. "Jesus." But it's him calling. "Hello?"

"A 10 hour nap? That's not a nap."

"It is for me."

"You're one weird woman but I like you."

My heart skips a beat. "Sure. Everyone likes me. You'd like my cakes too."

"Cakes?" He asked.

Ah, right. "I own a bakery with my friend, Luna."

"Maybe I'll come by sometime to taste your cake."

"Wait," I blink at his words. "You want to come to my bakery?"

He chuckles, music to my ears. "Why is that so surprising?"

"I mean," I began. "It's not everyday I get to hear that THE Bang Chan would visit my bakery."

"Alright, well I'll let you go."

I dream about a biker thay night.

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

The following night, he invites me for coffee. Then later we're back at Han River again, walking and talking. After a few minutes, we reach his bike and he grabs his helmet. Gosh. How is the little things he does I find very attractive?

The next few seconds go by fast, my brain not comprehending what happened. I feel something soft and wet on my right cheek, eyes widened as I reach to touch when he steps back. Did he just....

"Let me drop you home?"

I could only nod as I suddenly didn't have the ability to speak. And as I sit behind him on the bike, I was having trouble finding a spot to hold onto when he grabs my hand and puts them around his waist. "That's much better," he says starting the bike. And we were off.

By the time he reached my apartment complex, I'm still stuck on the kiss he gave me on the cheek. "Y/N?"

"Huh?" I snap my eyes at him as I see him with his hand out for me to climb off the bike. "Oh!"

"So, Y/N."

"Y-yes?"

"Will I see you again?"

Is he talking in a sense of a date? Wait, he's asking ME on a date???? "At the concert?"

"And after," he said.

"After?" I blink, my brain going in overdrive.

"Yeah, I wanna take you out," he replied.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yes," he chuckles.

"But we just met."

He takes a step closer and tucks my hair behind my ears. What is happening? "Yeah. It's not everyday everybody gets star struck."

Holy moly. His brown boba eyes are so pretty. I can check off many things on my bucket list with him being number 1. "But you're an idol. And I'm just a normal human who works in a bakery."

"So?"

"So, wouldn't it be weird for you to go out and be bombarded by paparazzi?"

"Good point," he nods. "But I have my ways, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. Bang Chan just called me a sweetheart. "Right. I forget you know almost everyone in the industry."

"It's a curse."

"What? Hello? It's not a curse. If I was like you, I wouldn't have trouble with social anxiety," I exclaimed. "I wouldn't give a fuck about anyone saying anything to me then."

He snorts, laughing. "You're so cute."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sorry," he says. "But it's a fact that I do know everyone and everything."

"See? You get it. While my introverted mind can't even fathom being in crowds," I huff, crossing my arms. When my eyes meet his, he's staring at me with such fire in his eyes. I squirm on my spot. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if I should come up and show you what an extrovert can do or just leave before I do something drastic."

I visbly gulp. Holy shit, Christopher. "Uhm."

But he just smiles at me and wears his helmet with the visor up. "I'll see you at the concert?"

"Yeah."

He gets on his bike, revvs it up a bit then he turns around and winking at me before driving away.

When I'm settled in bed, nice and cozy, my phone buzzes. "Luna if this is yo-" But my eyes widen at the name popping up.

C: sweet dreams, babygirl ;)

I cannot wait for the concert.

#bang chan #christopher bang #chris bang #stray kids bang chan #stray kids #bang chan fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #kpopidol #kpop icons #kpop

[sydsaint]

If you feel like it i was wondering if you could write a Poly Nick Aldis x reader x Adam Pierce? Maybe she is their assistant or smth for both brands. Maybe also using injury prompts of your choice?

Gotta show some love for Smackdown and Raw daddies. <3

Summary: The reader is the assistant for both Nick and Adam whom love to bicker about who loves and appreciates all of her hard work more.

You hurry into the arena with your security badge swinging wildly around your neck. Tonight is a PLE night of all nights. And you're late for work. Your tardiness isn't on porpoise of course. Nick and Adam both mentioned that you'd be on camera more than usual tonight so you should take the opportunity to dress up a bit. So you took their advice to heart and spent all afternoon getting all dolled up for the night. This resulted in you losing track of time and leaving the hotel late.

"Here! I'm here!" You announce frantically as you burst through the office door.

"Ah, Miss LN." Nick is the first one to greet you. "I was just about to call and ask if you were having trouble in traffic."

You take a second to catch your breath and smooth out your dress. "Not exactly, no." You shake your head. "I sort of lost track of time getting myself ready for tonight." You explain. "I promise that it won't happen again, sir." You assure him.

"Nonsense." Nick scoffs lightheartedly. "You're only a few minutes late, YN." He nods to the clock on the wall. "Besides, you look absolutely stunning." He compliments you.

"Thank you, sir." You blush and walk over to your desk for the night. "Is everything ready for the night? Anything I can help with before the show starts?" You ask him.

Aldis sits back down at his larger desk and shakes his head. "We're waiting for Pearce to finally arrive." He informs you. "Tell me, YN. How is Adam treating you over on Monday nights?" He asks you curiously.

You look up from your bag at Nick's question. "He's fine, of course." You insist. "My travel schedule is a bit hectic. Oh, but I don't mind it! I do love to get to travel all over the place." You correct yourself so it doesn't seem like you're complaining.

"Good." Nick replies plainly.

Silence falls over the room while the two of you wait for Pearce to show up. He pops into the office about 10 minutes later being trailed by Logan Paul.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone." Pearce announces as he comes through the door. "I seem to have ran into a bit of a problem on my way in." He nods to Logan behind him. "Logan! Give me a moment to speak with my colleague here." He nods to Nick before stepping over to him. "YN! Could you keep Mr. Paul company for a moment?"

"Happy to, sir." You nod and beckon Logan over to your desk.

Logan happily walks over to your desk and starts eyeing you up. "YN! I didn't know you worked for Pearce as well as Aldis." He comments.

"Mhm." You nod. "I work Mondays and Fridays. How are you, Logan?" You make small-talk with him.

"Better now that I'm talking to you." Logan replies with a cheeky grin.

You flash an amused smile at Logan and shake your head. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" You ask him.

"She's more like a friends with benefits thing." Logan quips. "And I'm always looking for new friends." He adds suggestively.

Over on the other side of the room Pearce and Aldis are discussing Logan bothering Pearce about coming to Raw when both men catch Logan blatantly hitting on you.

"Mr. Paul! I'd appreciate it if you'd stop hitting on my assistant." Nick speaks up first.

Logan stops talking to you and turns to look at Adam and Nick. "Nick is right." Adam adds. "We don't need to remind you of WWE's strict sexual harassment policy do we?" He asks Logan.

"No sir." Logan is swift to reply. "My bad, YN." He apologizes to you.

"It's alright." You nod. "Talk to you later, Logan."

Logan takes the hint and heads out to his locker room. Everyone waits until Logan is long gone before anyone speaks again.

"He sounded awfully confident over here." Nick comments.

"I'd be confident too if I looked like that and had all that money." You joke with a small giggle.

Nick and Adam both scoff. "Don't tell me you're into him, YN?" Adam asks you.

"If he wasn't a total tool and had a girlfriend already." You shrug.

"Men like that are nothing but trouble, my dear." Nick warns you. "You shouldn't worry yourself with troublemakers like that." He adds.

You giggle and shake your head, recognizing the jealous tone in both men's voices.

"Nick is right." Adam agrees. "That dress looks stunning on you by the way." He adds. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Logan for obvious reasons."

"Thank you." You blush again. "Now that you're both hear are we all ready for the show?" You ask both men.

Adam and Nick both nod. "We're all ready." Adam confirms.

"Yes. Now, let's put that stunning dress to good use and get you on camera my dear." He adds.

"Yes. You deserve some camera time after putting up with Logan, don't you think?" Adam agrees.

You giggle and get to your feet. "Whatever you guys say."

#wrestling #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fic #wwe x reader #adam pearce #nick aldis #adam pearce x reader #nick aldis x reader #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfic #syd's wrestling fics #wwe

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

and.. ACTION! - Margot Robbie

Pairing - Margot Robbie x fem!reader

Fluff, angst and homophobia (happy ending), implied NSFW

Word count: 2.7k (didn't mean for it to be that long lmao, it's juicy though)

!!not proofread!!

(reader is a film director)

Margot POV: 

I've just stared working on my new set for Barbie and it's taking a bit of getting used to because there are 2 directors for this movie Greta Gerwig and Y/N Y/L/N, and don't get me wrong they're both amazing directors but it's just new having two. 

At the minute we're on break and I'm sitting with Ryan, America and Y/N. I've grown close to everyone in this cast, we're like a family but I have gotten especially close with Y/N I don't know what it is about her but ever since the first time I heard her say "and.. ACTION!" I've been having these feelings for her. I can't really put my finger on what the feelings are though, I thought at first I just wanted to be her friend because she was cool and endearing but now, I'm thinking it might be more. But, I'm straight so it can't be right? Yeah, it can't be Margot you're being delusional. (we're all a bit delulu sometimes xx)

"Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second there." her soft voice snapped me out of my trance. "Yeah no, I'm fine. Just thinking." I replied tripping over my words a bit, I always seem to get nervous around her maybe it is.. no it can't be.

"You sure, you seemed pretty focused, I don't want you to worry you're pretty little head about things okay? You can talk to me if stuff is bothering you, you know that right?" and there she goes again, making me blush. Is she flirting with me or just giving me a compliment? Either way, I can't help the crimson blush that invades my face. She's always been so caring, always making sure I'm okay. I don't deserve her. Looking down now, slightly embarrassed I reply "Yeah I know, and we'll uhm- there is-" I fumble over my words now second guessing myself "isn't anything so don't worry about me, I promise okay?" I hold out my pinky so she can link her own around mine. "Okayy, if you say so but my offer still stands I'm always gunna be here." 

I give her a warm smile and suddenly the moment is ruined by Ryan walking in and telling us we're needed on set. "I'll see you later?" she asked with the cutest smile ever on her face. "Of course." I replied.

Okay, yeah. I like her, in the same way I normally like boys. Wow, this is new. 

Y/N POV:

We've just got off a back to back shooting day, hardly any breaks apart from the quick 5 minutes that I shared with my favourite person. Margot, obviously if that wasn't clear. I don't even think she swings this way but, a girl can dream right? Anyway, she's joining me and my parents for dinner tonight and, well, they're not the most supportive about my sexual orientation should I say. So, she offered to be a buffer, you know, soften the blow a bit when they throw insult after insult my way. I mean I could just bail the dinner but, they're my parents I owe them certain things so, I have promised to always make an effort to go see them, no matter what. So that's how I ended up here, walking to Margot's trailer and knocking on the door.

"Ready to go endure around 2 hours of relentless condescending comments from my parents?" I said to her as she opened the door.

"Of course I am, it's my favourite hobby." She replied sarcastically. I giggled and offered her my arm which she willingly took. 

On the walk to the car we had polite small talk about how our days had gone, as we hadn't seen much of each other even though we're on the same set. She was in the Barbieland set while I was on the real world set with America and Ariana. 

We get in the car and I start driving. I'm lost in my thoughts worrying about all the ways this could go incredibly wrong. Margot's soft voice snaps me out of my trance.

"Are you okay? And don't bullshit me Y/N you've got worry written all over your face." I sighed deeply and she put her hand on my thigh. I blushed deeply at the contact but didn't let that stray me from answering her. "I'm just really dreading this night, it's the first meal we've had together in about a year so, i don't know what to expect really." 

"Hey, normally i'd say look at me but you're driving and that probably isn't smart but," i chuckled lightly at that comment "you don't need their approval about every single aspect of your life, because it's your life. Also, who cares if they don't agree with your sexuality? It's none of their business who you bang." 

I genuinely laugh for the first time this evening at the last comment. I briefly glance at Mar and smile. "Thank you for that, really. It helps to hear it." 

"No problem okay? And if at any point during the meal you're just thinking 'I need to leave like, now' then just tell me and I'll act like my apartment had been broken into or something so we can leave. I'm an amazing actress you know?" There's an evident smirk plastered across her beautiful face and I giggle at her sarcasm. "I'm fully aware and I'll drop you a text if it gets too unbearable." 

"Good." She says smiling as she turns back around so she's facing the road again. The car ride continues in a comfortable silence and Taylor Swift playing in the background. 

Time skip to when they're at the house 

Margot POV: 

"Okay we're here." I hear y/n/n say as we came to a stop outside her parents house.

"Hey, you've got this." I say as I take her hand and give it a light squeeze. "Yeah, I hope so." She responded anxiety prominent in her voice. 

We walk up to the front door and knock. Not even a second later it swings open revealing a short woman who appears to be in her sixties and a man who appears to only be a tad older behind her. "Oh my goodness, y/n/n it's been far too long." After saying that she instantly pull the y/h/c into a tight hug. "Hiya mum." She says back awkwardly patting her back,   y/n is not a hugger. Any parent should know such a small detail like that about their kid. I internally roll my eyes because I can see the stiffness of her body as her mum squeezes even tighter. "Ah, you must be Margot?" Her dad says from behind the mother and daughter. "Oh, uhm, yes that's me." I say extending my hand for him to shake which her returns politely. Her mum has now fully released her grip on y/n and extends her hand so she can shake mine while saying. "Hopefully not girlfriend." My face goes flat. No emotion, just plain hatred for this woman already and I haven't even stepped in the house. I clear my throat and say, "No, I'm not but I don't think it would be an issue if I was." Both her parents just shared disapproving looks but beckoned us in none the less. This was going to be a long night.

Time skip to them eating tea (dinner) 

Y/n POV: 

So far nothing about the comment earlier nor the subject had come up so it had actually been a really fun night so far. So far. I knew it was all going downhill when we sat down at the dinning table because that's when topics like politics and live life come up. I was not excited to say the least. "Guys 'cmon foods ready!" my dad yells from the kitchen. Me, my mum and Margot make our way to the dinning room where there is a gorgeous looking Sunday roast laying in the table waiting for us. "Dad that looks amazing." I say to him. 

"Just wait till you taste the stuffing I got some new herbs from the garden and chucked them in, it's really tasty." We all went to our respective seats on the table my parents opposite me and Margot. As soon as my mother opened my mouth I knew it was all going to go horribly wrong. 

"So y/n/n any news?" 

"Like what mum?" 

"Oh well, I don't know, a boyfriend?"

Margot shot daggers at my mum but she didn't take any notice. 

"No." I say, trying to be as blunt and cut off as possible. 

"Oh don't worry dear, a nice man will make his way into your life soon enough." My dad chimes in.

"Yeah, and then you can settle down and have a proper life with children and a proper man not any of that 'lesbian' nonsense you've been talking about." *you can change that to whatever your sexuality is but i just chose lesbian bc it fits* 

I sit and stare at her with a flabbergasted look in my face. "For the last time, I. Am. A. Lesbian. I'm not going to find a nice man because I'm not interested in men, just because you don't understand that doesn't mean that you can't accept it. Also I'm not being funny but it doesn't matter who I end up with, my life is 'proper' and as long as I love the person I end up with, which I will; very dearly it doesn't matter what their gender is, but I'm just letting you know it will be a girl. And, I don't give a flying fuck wether my children are adopted, if they're IVF or anything! Okay?! Because at the end of the day they'll be my children and I'll love them unconditionally so, that's all that matters. And I'm not being funny I shouldn't of even come tonight because every single time I come it's the same thing over and i over again, you are both like broken records!" By the end of my rant I'm practically yelling at them and at some point in my rage I stood up from my chair. I look at them both, waiting for some kind of comeback. 

"Never speak to me or your father like that again. You are a worthless piece of shit dyke and no child of mine!" She yelled at me and by this point there were tears rolling down my face. She then continued, "Imagine what Margot thinks of this, huh? You arguing with your parents and speaking to us in that manner? She also must be appalled that you're a, a- lesbian." she held so much disgust in her voice when she said that it made my blood boil and when Margot instantly rose from her chair I could tell it had the exact same effect on her. 

Margot POV:

"Well Mrs Y/L/N-"

"Please call me Claire."

"Okay, Claire. Do you want my honest opinion on this topic?"

"Yes dear I would, please knock some sense i to this girl."

As soon as those words left her mouth I turned to y/n/n and thought to myself 'well it's now or never' and I put on arm around her waist and the other behind her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a sweet innocent kiss and we pulled away rather quickly because we were obviously still in front of her parents. As we pulled apart she was beaming and so was I. Her face was a light pink now and it made me feel good knowing I did that to her. I wa brought back to reality when her mother chimed in again. "How long has this sinning been going on for?" Y/n head snapped round to mine looking panicked but I just scoffed loudly and said "This loving, caring relationship has been going on for 6 months, since we started filming together." I saw her mother roll her eyes but now it was her dads turn to stand up. "That's it! I've had it with you!" he paused for a second and I glanced at y/n and tears were rolling down her eyes because we both thought that she was about to get practically disowned for the second time tonight. "Claire, why can't you just be happy for our daughter, she's in love for christ sake! I don't care if she's gay. I care that she's happy,I care that she's loved. I don't understand your inability to do such things!" Me, y/n and her mum looked just as surprised as each other when those words left his mouth. Choking back even more tears y/n said "Thank you dad, really. It means a lot l." Her dad then walked around the table and stopped before her went in to hug her. "You don't like hugs do you?" he said

"No, but I guess I can make an exception." 

My heat swelled at the scene playing out before me, her mother storming out the house and y/n/n and her dad making up. I was incredibly sweet. 

As they pulled away her dad said "I know this hasn't exactly been the ideal evening but, I'm happy for the both of you okay? Now go home and get some rest sweetheart, and it was lovely meeting you Margot and just in advance you have my blessing if you ever want to, you know pop the question. Just to put it out there I'm only saying that because I know people like to ask the dad and I just thought you might be a bit too worried to ask when the times tight because of her mother so, I thought I'd tell you now so, no pressure but uhm- yeah." He said it with so much sincerity and love in his voice it made me instinctively pull him into a hug. "Thank you Mr y/l/n" I said tears pricking my eyes. "Please, call me John." 

"Thank you John." 

Y/N POV:

I just set there still crying, but more tears of joy at this point and observed the two most important people in my life at the minute share the most sickly sweet moment ever. I was amazing.

Time skip to once you drive Margot home (still reader pov)

"So, 6 months huh?" I said teasingly as I walked her to the door of her house. "I don't work well under pressure, okay?" I laughed at her response and then when she got to the door she looked at me straight in the eye. "I mean I wouldn't be totally objected to the idea of being with you for 6 months." she trailed off getting quieter at the end of her sentence and looking away nervously.  "You know, neither would I." Her eyes instantly found mine again and she looked down at me since she's slightly taller. "Really?" 

"Yes Margot, really." 

She grabbed my face and pulled me into a bruising kiss. Our lips moved in perfect sync, her teeth grazing my bottom lip and slightly biting  it causing me to let out a small moan. Her hand that had snaked around to my waist pulled me in closer at that action. Her lip grazed over my top lip asking for entrance which I happily granted her, she pushed her tongue into my mouth instantly and started exploring causing me to move my hands from her hips to around her neck pulling her in even further. We continued until we needed to pull away for air. "You wanna come inside and continue?" she asked suggestively. 

"Definitely." At that she picked me up and i wrapped my legs around her torso and we resumed our previous actions. As we got to her room she layer me down on the bed and got on top of me. "Good thing we don't have set tomorrow because I don't think we'll be getting much sleep tonight darling." 

And just like always, she was right.

#wlw #lesbian pride #lesbian #wlw fanfic #sapphic #wlw pride #margot robbie #margot robbie x reader #barbie #barbie x reader

[setsugekka]

『atarashī 』 ; 05

❝ breaking point ❞ | mlist  ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [8k wc] ch cws: smut, a lot of it!!, more marital problems (yes, the baby thing again), very destructive, heat of the moment decision making out of anger that certainly can't be undone...heh

"I think I'm falling in love with someone."

Sitting on the couch beside you, sharing the same warm blanket and with a glass of wine not unlike your own in hand, Yeosang turns to look at you with an expression that vividly says is that so? 

It's evenings like this especially that you're thankful for your wealthy background—an apartment to yourself in the middle of the city during college—not something many others get to have for themselves. As a result, you and your boyfriend enjoy so many nights together such as this one, cuddled up in the living room with a movie on the television that neither of you have much intention of paying attention to.

"Oh really?" Yeosang says, playing along. "Anyone I know?"

You smile, pleased by his willingness. "Not sure, just some finance guy with bleached blonde hair and a pretty birthmark by his eye."

Grinning, Yeosang pulls closer to your body. "None of those things sound especially...special. Surely there's something else about him that you like that has you falling for him?"

Face nuzzling into your neck, you feel his lips press into the skin there while a hand beneath the blanket slips over your thigh and slowly between your legs.

"Yeah, I guess so," you reply, feigning being lost in thought on the matter. "He's got a big dick."

Yeosang laughs out loud and into your flesh—not anticipating the comment—and as a result you feel the wetness of his saliva sprinkled from his reaction. You reel with a shriek, pulling quickly away from him and lamenting the outcome of this through laughs that the both of you share.

"Seriously! You spit on me! Gross!"

"Sorry," he says quickly, still grasping towards you in an effort to pull you back against him. "I wasn't expecting the comment about my dick, can you really blame me?"

"For spitting on me!? Yes!" you retort, though playfully and with little resistance to his desire to have you close to him again.

"I didn't mean to do that part," Yeosang says, lips finding yours and hand slipping between your legs once you're close enough again. "I have something you can spit on though, if that would help."

An enticing offer, hard to refuse. You begin to allow yourself to melt into his touch, another evening of enjoying all of the ways that the two of you seem to fit together with such ease. In so many ways, you can't even begin to fathom a world in which you don't. Maybe this is it. Maybe this guy will be the one.

A concept you've never found yourself particularly fussed with before, but who knows. Maybe with him.

"Hey."

The word brings you back out of your thoughts, Yeosang's eyes fitted firmly onto your own now. A small smile paints his lips, as if wildly pleased just by the mere existence of you. Probably true, too. The beginning always feels like this.

"It's about time you caught up, was starting to think I was going to be waiting forever here, by myself, like a loser."

"What do you mean?" you question, eyebrows furrowed.

Yeosang kisses you lightly then, no nefarious intent behind it. A mere showing of kind affection towards you that feels so strongly like the warmth of adoration from one person to another. Innocent, well-meaning. Perfect.

"I love you."

Over the sound of sizzling onions in the pan just in front of you, the loud pop of a champagne cork echos through the dining area of your apartment and turning to look to your left, you watch your husband pour two glasses of the beverage. One for each of you.

Yeosang slides closer to you, slips an arm across the small of your back and around your body to pull you closer against him and places a kiss atop the peak of your shoulder. His lips curl into it, which has a similar effect on your own.

So, you turn your attention fully to him, and the two of you share a kiss over the savory scent of dinner preparation, and in times like this you're actually able to forget all of the other stuff that lies dormant beneath the happiness that exists within this partnership.

If only he was home more often so that it was more of the norm, and less of a reminder.

"It smells delicious," Yeosang says, lips still pressed into your shoulder as he stands beside you. "I wonder what dessert is going to be."

Hardly hidden in intent enough to even be considered an innuendo, Yeosang tips his glass lightly towards your own before whisking himself away and out of the kitchen entirely before you have a chance to chastise him for his filthy mind. 

"Be good, or there won't be any dessert."

"I hardly believe that."

Unfortunately, Yeosang knows better. The long, messy hair that delicately cradles the sharp lines of his face as well as the pretty birthmark he has now long since given up trying to hide—your husband stands at the end of the kitchen island in just a plain, white button down shirt and black slacks, but it's plenty to have the mind wandering about what dessert might have to offer indeed.

You remain strong in your resolve, flash him a look that tells him to behave, and at the very least he appears to acquiesce to the suggestion, taking a sip of his drink and then carrying himself further away and towards the dining room table.

"How is it?"

You ask over the gentle clinking sounds of silverware against porcelain plating. It's not often that the two of you get to share evenings together such as this—dinner often reduced to quick and cheap take out, less candlelit filet and the fancy champagne glasses that you received as wedding gifts.

Yeosang leans back in his seat though, mouth full of food and chewing while grinning like a pleased child who couldn't possible receive anything else, anything better from the world. "Delicious. Amazing. You've really outdone yourself this time."

A loving grin takes your face, bashful in the praise even if it comes from your husband, and he's not even finished yet. Yeosang leans forward again with elbows into the glass table, eyes pressed onto you.

"I'm so lucky. The luckiest man on earth, if I had to guess."

You play along. "It is hard to imagine anyone else to be living more lavishly than you are right now, isn't it?"

"Unfathomable, really," he chuckles under his breath, taking a sip of champagne and tossing his napkin onto the table to signal his defeat by the meal in question. "I'd like to see someone try."

Sliding his hand across the table, you meet him halfway and place yours on top of it. 

"I have a couple of work emails to catch up on that I've been ignoring all day," Yeosang says with a disgruntled sigh. "But after that...maybe we can revisit that conversation about dessert."

It's not the most ideal, but duty calls. Suppose the table could use some clearing and pans beginning their soaking process in the meantime—thus, you agree with little pushback on the matter.

"I'm holding you to that," you say, coy.

Yeosang takes his hand back, stands from the table and leans over to kiss you on the mouth, lips lingering just atop yours as he grants you a whispered reply. "Good, I hope you do."

Hands wet with warm water and dish soap, you idly drag a sponge across the front of a plate with little thought expended towards the act.

And then your phone vibrates atop the counter just beside.

You still—confused—it's so late in the evening by now that you wonder who it is that could possibly be attempting to contact you. Seonghwa knows you're sharing an evening with your husband and wouldn't bother with an attempt to shoot the shit right now, so when you quickly dry your hands and illuminate the screen, the email that pops up is far from one that you would expect to be finding.

Hey, Sorry for the late night contact, I was going through the other lists of contacts and couldn't find anyone who might be able to set me up with some industry viewings or interviews. Would you happen to know anyone I could speak to about this? My professor is, to put it kindly, useless. Thanks, Hongjoong.

You reread the email two, three times in total. Glance around yourself to ensure that you're alone despite knowing that Yeosang is still holed up in his office with work. Not that you're doing anything wrong—this is work of your own to deal with, after all.

Something in you enjoys this, however. Enjoys the attention, enjoys the way that Hongjoong comes to you for the things that he may need. There's a guilty part of you that knows that the correct choice in this matter is to tell him that he should only contact you during normal, business hours, but another, louder and perhaps sinister part that enjoys the attention; basks in the way that Hongjoong seemingly wants your attention just as much as the other way around, and has no qualms with doing what it takes to acquire it.

Your last meeting with him was a mistake, one that you have no intention of ever revisiting. Boundaries need to be put in place. You can reel this back enough that it sits firmly in the harmless flirting category rather than whatever that was that happened in the theater hall before.

Hey, Unfortunately, I don't have anything on hand, this conversation would be better suited for office hours back at the theaters. I have a personal listing of contacts that would probably suit you well in an effort to advance your career. The professors at the Akademiya have no such lists. We can meet sometime this week and look it over.

See? Perfectly professional. You set your phone down to get back to the dishes that await, but his reply chimes through quicker than anticipated, and worse than that, the excitement of that fact vibrates electric hot under your skin.

Then what kind of conversation would be better suited for the late evening hours? Do you have anything in mind? Instead of waiting for the week to meet, we should meet tomorrow night. 

Well, you certainly can't chalk this one up to you. Wholly started by Hongjoong now, you try to fight back the way the corners of your lips curl upwards at how seemingly desperate he is for your attention—for you to talk to him, see him—and while you know you shouldn't be indulging in it, they're just emails. Just text. He can't touch you here, can't undress you here. Nothing on the table like the last time.

But now the dishes go all but forgotten entirely; you turn away from them, phone in hand and glancing up every now and then to keep an eye on the door to the office room. Still closed. 

You wonder how wrong this really is. Where the line of affair truly begins and ends.

I don't think it's a good idea for either of us to be going out to do God knows what on a Saturday night, but I appreciate the offer. I can meet you early Monday morning to go over the potential prospects that would likely suit you.

Hongjoong replies quickly to that. Something that you find you are enjoying.

Perhaps not a good idea for you. There's a club I want to go to, you're not allowed to go out and dance when you're married? You didn't answer my question about what we should be talking about at night, by the way. Also, I'm a little regretful I didn't think to take photos of the garment on you, they would have helped a lot with the future planning phase. Instead when I'm working late at night I just have to go off of memory...

The last paragraph is so poignant that you almost immediately forget about the rest of the words laid out in the text. Your heart rate accelerates—hard and fast against your chest as you read the words over and over again—is he...? Is this...?

A thinly veiled admission to touching himself to the memory of touching you?

That thought does something hateful to the way your skin feels across your body. Heat felt all across you as you think of the possibility of it; Hongjoong laid out along his bed, the fabric of his shirt pushed up just slightly across his abdomen and pants pushed down, hand tightly wrapped around his cock as he thinks of you, imagines that it's you, pretends that it's you as he comes across his fist.

You shake the thought from your head as quickly as you can, but the lasting effect of it sitting pooled between your own legs isn't as easily pushed away.

There's a conscious effort to read back the email and simply ignore that bit now, so that you can at the very least reply to everything else.

Surely you have friends from the Akademiya to go with, no need for a married housewife to tag along.

Trying to make yourself sound as boring, uninteresting as possible. You continue on.

Sorry about the garment. As for nightly discussion topics, I'm not sure if there's anything that would be deemed rather appropriate.

Great. You've done your part. You sigh, quickly put your phone on the counter—face down—and make an effort to get back to the dishes, but unfortunately Hongjoong seems to have no intention of allowing you to do any such thing and his reply comes through just as fast as the others.

You nearly drop your phone upon reading it, however.

I don't want to go with friends from the Akademiya, and I have no intention of remaining professionally appropriate, either. I think you liked the way I touched you back at the theater. Do you want to know what other ways I can touch you?

No. No, no, no. In your mind, at the forefront of everything, you repeatedly tell yourself that you cannot engage with this any further. That a conversation needs to be had with the Akademiya board about this, that you cannot keep indulging in this banter with him, because it's going to impede not only your ability to be professional, but also his ability to be a student. You're going to have to take this to administration Monday morning. This can't keep going on.

Beyond that thought, your thoughts wander to exactly what it is that he's implying. Recalling the gentle, tender ghost of his fingertips across your skin, his attentive gaze upon your form with every movement, every single thing that he had done in regard to you. Hongjoong has only ever given you his full, undivided attention—you can't help but wonder what that might be like when there is no barrier to the way his hands, or mouth, could be on you.

You must not reply quick enough for his liking, and that makes sense because a part of you has long since abandoned the want to continue partaking in the conversation at all. It's no good for you, and only going to get worse the more you respond. There's guilt there, because what if he feels terribly for having sent you such things—creepy, uncomfortable in the aftermath of never being met with a response—but the stronger part of you, the part that slowly has your own hand sinking down into the front of your jeans to alleviate some of the pressure that this has resulted in, can't be bothered to care. Regardless, another email from him comes across your inbox.

Are you thinking about it now? I'm thinking about it too.

The thought has you putting pressure into your fingertips, bottom lip caught up between your teeth as you close your eyes and picture it; his hands on himself, his hands on you. 

You have no business indulging in this fantasy, but at the end of the day, it is just that. It's not real, and nothing has happened. You imagine your husband has probably shared similar moments of weakness—coming over his fist to the thought of having a colleague in a particularly fitted pencil skirt, no doubt. It's a human want, desiring the new, and even in some cases, desiring precisely the thing that we should not ever have.

Hongjoong doesn't email again, and in ways it leaves you high and dry—wanting but never reaching any particular point within the interaction. You wash your hands then stand idly in front of the sink, staring blankly into the tiled, back wall of the countertop and contemplating what, exactly, you're going to say to the administration board come Monday morning.

Less than the breaking through of light through the crack of the blinds, it's the feeling of your husband nesting his chin against your shoulder that wakes you back to consciousness in the morning.

Yeosang brings an arm up from behind you, tosses it lazily over your side to pull you tighter against his form. Lips drop chaste kisses to the exposed skin below them, and the reminder of his early morning attraction to you is felt firm and thick against you from behind.

And so, you lightly push back into him, reveling in the low groan that rumbles in his throat as a result of the motion. His kisses upon your shoulder turn slightly harder and paired with small nips of his teeth—the hand once against your stomach then traveling down beneath the sheets and settling between your legs.

"Good morning, baby," he says, just above a whisper and the morning gravel to his tone adding just that much more to the desire you carry for him. "Sorry for the late night, maybe I can make it up to you now?"

Practiced fingers rubbing into you, Yeosang continues pressing himself against you, hard and thick, slotting between your pressed together legs and shallowly driving into you as to simulate the turn that this morning can take. You moan lightly, melting into the touch. Desire creeping up through your veins at a rapid pace and pushing back timed just right to meet his motions halfway.

"You do kind of owe me," you answer back playfully, alluding to being left to fall asleep alone so many hours ago. "How do you intend to do that?"

Yeosang hums, thoughtful. "In theory, shouldn't I be at the mercy of your whims? Made to do whatever it is that you wish of me?" His hand slips away from between your legs then, instead moves between your bodies, positioning himself better for what's soon to come. "Or maybe I'll just take matters into my own hands. Flip you over, fuck you into the mattress where you belong."

Your groan is louder but still airy and sleep-carried at not only the words, but Yeosang's initial, slow drive inside of you. A strong hand moving to grip at your thigh—pry your leg apart just slightly to make space for him to fill you—it only takes a few, shallow strokes before he sits firmly planted deep within the warmth of you, though he doesn't sit still for much time before he withdraws equally long and slow, pushing in again and biting into the skin of your shoulder as you gasp out at the feeling of him having you.

"How's this for owing you?" he asks, though there's little genuine question in it and you know that. "How about I make you come around my dick, then we'll see who owes who."

Yeosang delivers a hard thrust then, punching the air and another whimpered moan out from your throat as you lean forward to clutch at the sheets beneath your bodies. His motions don't relent, settling into that pace for the foreseeable future—fingers gripping hard into the flesh of your thigh as he nearly pulls your body down and onto his cock with every drive forward.

"Fuck, Yeosang—"

"Yeah? Feels that good already?" he answers low, taunting. "Always know you're dying for it when I've got you moaning my name."

Repeated hard and long strokes of himself into your body that quickly send you teetering on the edge of release, Yeosang continues teasing you through it with his words—the sound of your bodies meeting quickly and in succession resounding through the otherwise silent room—and just when you feel your body pulling taut around him, whining and whimpering into the sheets below in desperation for him not to stop, to keep going, begging for more, harder, faster; Yeosang gifts you with just that.

"That's it baby," he says now, voice more pointed, domineering. "Come real good for me so I can fill you up just like you want—" teeth nipping into your skin again, teeth clenched when he stops to speak and fucks you even harder still, almost angrily in delivery both words and body. "Fuck my cum deep into you, get myself that baby I want after all."

It rattles you, but you're too far gone and within the throes of dirty talk, the filthiness of it still has you coming apart around him just like he wants from you. When your orgasm crashes over you, it has every nerve ending in your body firing off, skin on fire and burning at the spots in which he touches you as he continues to fuck you through it, and shortly after, empties himself inside of you with a deep, hearty groan too.

But the post-orgasmic bliss of it all wears off much quicker than under normal circumstances.

Your breathing steadies, body returning to normal fast and as a result, you're pulling away from him and creating space between your forms. When his softening length drops from inside of you and the subsequent leaking of what he's left spills out, you grimace at the feeling of it. 

You don't say anything right away, but he must notice—knows you. The two of you have been here before, after all.

"What?" he asks, but his tone makes it evident that he already is well enough aware, and annoyed by your reaction too.

Part of you considers not bothering with answering him, little point to starting this fight, but he is your husband, and suppose he deserves at least that much.

"Seriously? Again with that?"

Yeosang doesn't say anything right away, which spurs your glancing back and over your shoulder at him.

He's smiling. Pleased.

"You didn't seem to hate the idea when you were coming."

"Yeah, because you were talking dirty to me and I enjoy having sex with you! It feels good! I love you! That doesn't mean it's free range for you to drag in all of our points of contention."

He rolls his eyes, turns to lie on his back. "All of our points of contention, as if there are any besides this one thing."

You have to fight back the laugh that wants to tear through you, it's like he's never heard anything you've been saying at all: in regards to a baby, in regards to his being gone all the time, in regards to your inability to nourish your desire for the arts. Nothing at all.

Instead, you pull yourself up from the bed entirely and make haste in getting dressed. You've got to get out of here, and more than that, you have to get away from him.

Yeosang's eyes remain on you as you throw items on your body. "I have to go to work," you say, and when you hear your husband huff out a laugh, you regret giving him even that much.

"Work," he repeats, plain. "I'm sure you have so much work to do."

That infuriates you more. The incessant unwillingness to take you or anything you do seriously so long as it doesn't involve him and his wants from you. You pull a light jacket from the closet, shrug it on fast, then walk back to the nightstand to grab your phone and hurry your way out of the room.

"Lemmie ask you something," Yeosang then says, voice still simple and unbothered in a way that infuriates you just that much more. Because of course he doesn't care, you'll come around for his desires just as you always do, he just has to wait it out a bit longer.

You stop in the doorway, turn to look at him, and don't bother masking the contempt etched into your face.

"Do you want to have a baby?"

Counting the seconds between the words leaving his mouth, and your response to him is simple enough. It's seven. Seven seconds is all it takes to come to your final conclusion.

"No."

And then you're gone.

So many reasons to go home, you instead ignore all of them in favor of staying late at the theater office.

You make up work that needs to be done. Door knobs that need to be polished and rooms that need to be vacuumed out despite just having done it not long ago before. Emails that probably need to be tended to though it's the weekend, and you've already answered the ones that had come in through the week.

A few hours into the dark quiet of the night, you consider that maybe you do need to finally go home. Confront your husband, have this conversation finally. You're not really ready to do that. You wonder if you ever will be ready to do that. 

You wonder if this is what standing in the face of a divorce looks like—having told him the truth of how you're feeling now. Maybe Yeosang already has the papers drafted up. Maybe it takes longer than a few hours to get the papers drafted up. You don't know, it's your first potential divorce, after all.

But the idea of it, of dissolving your marriage to him and going your separate ways saddens you in such a distinct and visceral way that perhaps you'd lost sight of over the last few contentious weeks. A reminder that you love him, that you want to remain in this marriage to him—but you don't want to have a baby, not like this.

Memories of the horrible comments he has made to you in relation to it all then flood through your mind and you're filled with rage over them all over again. You try to remember a time back in college when he was so terrible to you like this, a red flag that you had missed, or maybe just ignored. You fail to locate one, but the anger that sits at your finger tips as a result of it itches in such a distinct and particular way that you have a difficult time setting it aside and being the bigger person about it.

A desire to cause harm, a craving to do to him as he has done to thoughtlessly to you.

Your phone vibrates then, pulls you from the thoughts about it all. Far from hoping to be greeted by a message from the man in question, you're instead shocked to find what it is that is awaiting you, having all but forgotten not only him, but what this evening is.

Last chance to come out tonight.

It's the only thing Hongjoong says. No flirtation, no additional commentary about what may or may not lie beneath the suggestion. A simple enough message, and because of that, suppose you find it easy to lull yourself into what may be a false sense of comfort in regards to the situation.

If only your husband knew. He would hate finding out about where you were going, and who with.

All the more reason to go.

You reply, tell Hongjoong to send you the address of where to meet and he does so quickly. Still, nothing extra added to the messages, so flat, in fact, that you consider the possibility of being entirely delusional about the exchange of messages the night prior. Maybe that never happened, maybe you had had a little too much to drink.

It's not hard to locate the email thread and scroll through the messages as they had been left to you, and no, you did not, in fact, have too much to drink last night.

You grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and head out down the red Aurelian halls towards the door.

Upon your arrival, you realize that you had not put thought into proper dress attire for this sort of endeavor—not that it had been planned anyway.

It's early enough in the evening that the crowd outside isn't that jam packed. People stand around in small pockets of peer groups, dressed somewhat similarly as if having presented a theme and wholeheartedly wanting to stick to it. The sight of it sort of endears you, makes you wish that that was something that you could partake in too.

Instead, here you are; oversized hoodie and a boring, black skirt that comes down about mid-thigh. Hardly sexy, hardly anything really.

You glance down at yourself, frown a little at what you have to offer. A few years back you probably would have really killed the scene at something like this, but now, this is all you've managed to bring to the table.

There's a run climbing its way up the side of your calf in your tights, and you can't help but think of it as an incredibly apt manifestation of everything.

"Hey."

Turning to face the voice, Hongjoong approaches you as he takes a final drag of a burnt down cigarette. Not a fan, but far from your place and you suppose it's not especially shocking, either. He's never smelled of smoke down at the theater, but more than this knowledge is the fact that he's more or less dressed just the same as you usually see him too. Tight, slightly ripped jeans, a simple shirt, and a jacket over top—only this one has more zippers, more buttons, more adornments that make it appear more him.

"I didn't know you smoke."

"I don't really, only socially, when I'm drinking," he replies, flicking it to the ground and crushing it under the heel of his boot. "Why? Don't like that?"

You shrug. "Not really up to me what you do, I'm not your keeper."

Hongjoong smirks, leans in a little bit closer to your face with those words. "Mmm, wouldn't you like to be though."

He leans back again just as quickly, as if never having said or done anything out of the ordinary at all. Looks you up and down for a second—judging, you consider—but any negative commentary never comes, and instead he nods towards the entrance to go inside.

"You ever been here?" he asks as the two of you wait behind only a handful of people at the door.

"No," you can't help but laugh. An asinine question. "I'm thirty."

"So? You can't have fun anymore when you're thirty? What's the age cut off? Or is it just that your husband doesn't want you getting out of the house too much anymore."

Hearing Hongjoong speak so clearly about Yeosang sends a spike of rage down your spine that you sort of don't expect. You want to bite back at the comment, though the truth in it and a reminder of what it is that he has said to you grants Hongjoong unknown reprieve from being on the receiving end of such.

"I just don't get out much anymore, not like this," you choose to reply. Somewhat true, in ways. You watch Hongjoong nod to the door guy as the both of you enter together and become swallowed up but the pitch black dark and loud, booming bass of the floor inside, forcing you to yell the remainder of your sentence to your company for the evening.

"No one to go with."

Hongjoong turns his head, looks you dead in the eye at that. Mischievous perk to the corner of his lips as he leans in so slowly, so pointedly, that a part of you thinks that he's going to kiss you.

"Guess I'm going to have to fix you then."

It's not lost on you at all, the verbiage of choice. Not a matter of fixing that, your outlook, your circumstances. No.

He's going to fix you.

An hour or so into the night and two drinks down, there's a loosening in your body that feels much needed after the prior events that still hang heavily over your head. The music is loud—so loud that you can feel it rattling through your bones—jarring in a way that feels new to you despite this not being your first time at a place such as this. Hongjoong seems content with allowing you to take the lead for the evening, and the two of you hang back in a corner of the open floor plan just next to the steps that lead upwards. He asks if you want to get another drink but you decline the offer, swaying to the electronic music as stand.

A few more moments pass, he leans in towards your ear once again. "Dance with me."

It's less of a request, more of a demand you realize, when you feel him slot himself behind you and a hand sets lightly against your waist. A part of you wants to protest the action, remembering the last time you allowed the man to be so close in proximity to you and what resulted from that. Tonight isn't supposed to go like that. Tonight is only meant to take the edge off of the looming problems that await you back home.

The alcohol certainly helps, fuzzy through your veins and electrifying his touch on you. Not long after, Hongjoong spins you so that you're facing him, hand coming up to hold you by the back of the neck and pulling you so closely to him that your foreheads meet and eyes settle harshly upon one another. In a brief moment of weakness, you remember the emails sent the night before; the implications, the understanding without explicitly being stated that they hold. A rush of excitement courses through you—you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be here with him. 

Then you think of Yeosang, wonder what he's doing right now while you're out here, like this. Wonder if he's choosing baby names, wonder if he's going as far as to sabotage your birth control. You don't really know how far he's willing to go to get what he wants from you—his wife, his incubator. 

At a place like this, with a man like Hongjoong, none of that matters. He wants nothing of the sort from you. Zero expectations of a role you're meant to be fulfilling for him. 

You love your husband, but you also hate him for everything that he is putting you through.

Hongjoong's face slips past yours, mouth settling atop your ear instead. So close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over you, sending a shiver across your flesh.

"Stop thinking," he says against you. His other hand sits at your hip, though you can feel the burn of his fingers curling into you—the fabric of your skirt riding up your leg to expose more of it. "You can be whatever or whoever you want here. None of that other shit matters."

His lips slip down just a bit then, lightly trailing over the skin of your neck—almost nonexistent in the way that he touches you but still so sure of it that you allow your head to fall back, loll to the side with eyes closed to take it in. Hongjoong's teeth graze you, and it manifests in a vivid throb of arousal between your legs that you want more than anything to find the strength to ignore.

But you don't, not anymore.

You bring your head back up, look him in the eyes for just a moment before your lips crash against his, and he meets you eagerly, hungrily. Not missing a beat despite the neediness. No one is here to find you, no one is here to see this, and for all intents and purposes; it might as well not even exist. Not the kiss, not you, and not him. The hand cradling the back of your neck tightens in grip, pulls you harder against his mouth as teeth nip at your bottom lip like he's been waiting for this forever. Desperate for it, unwilling to allow you to escape it. You don't want to anyway.

Over the sound of your back meeting the firm mattress below, you barely have a chance to find your bearings—hear the sound of the front door closing and clicking locked—before Hongjoong is crawling over your form and pressing his mouth to every bit of exposed skin that he can manage to find. There isn't much, and this obviously frustrates him with the quickness in which he pulls you sitting, hurriedly peels off the sweatshirt that hides your torso from him, and tosses it somewhere on the floor of his quiet apartment.

He kisses you again, just as much neediness as before, and you meet him with just the same amount of vigor. Quick fingers unfastening the garment still hiding your chest from him, his mouth traveling downward then to press his mouth and tongue into the soft flesh that awaits him there. 

You gasp out, back arching up and into him. Heat rushing to your head with every expertly placed swirl of his tongue, though it's lost quickly when he sits back onto his heels, grabs at you by the thighs and pulls your hips to the edge of the bed to settle himself between. It's dizzying intoxicating, everything happening so quickly that you can barely find it within yourself to keep up. When you're grounded enough, Hongjoong's fingers are already dug into the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs, and when your eyes meet his, he makes it a point to dig nails into the soft fabric of your already previously marred tights. Ripping them more as they cascade down to pool at the floor.

There's a protest that begins within you but dies out in almost an instant—the feeling of Hongjoong's tongue pressed into your folds destroying any chance the words had at escaping out into the air.

"Oh my God—" is what you do get out, and Hongjoong hums into your cunt in response to the lazy attempt.

Urgency courses through every movement, and it thrills you and sets your body alight. You understand it well, every thought put out of your mind except for him, the way that he's touching you, the way that he seems to crave your body in a way that you haven't quite experienced in so, so long. To be desired for exactly what you are, not what you could be—not for what you can give him in the future, even.

Hongjoong's fingers come up to meet his mouth, presses two inside of you slowly enough but the need is still sitting just behind the motion. You moan out loud at the feeling of him—any part of him—filling your body. Back arching again, hands coming down to curl into strands of hair that do not belong to the man who put a ring on your finger.

He sets a rhythm, brings you even closer to being drunk with visceral want for him. All you can think about is what's next, needing more, needing to feel more of him.

And it's as if he can read your mind, understand your body as it lies beneath his grasp as he pulls away; stands just long enough to strip himself of his jacket, his shirt. Can't be parted from you long enough to remove his jeans all the way and only gets far enough that the front is unbuttoned before he's pushing you up the length of the bed and slotting himself between your legs once more. Lips crashing down onto yours just like before, the weight of his body held to one arm while he works himself out of his jeans and you don't get any further warning than that before he sinks into you—slowing just enough in an effort to ease the sting of the stretch, but carving space inside of your body for him all the same.

You gasp out, his name somewhere in the sounds. His teeth find your neck as a hand finds one of your thighs you pull you open for him. Hongjoong's hips snap into you three, four times, and each time the air is punched out of your lungs, electricity raging through your body with every hard, thick drag of his cock inside of you.

He feels and looks like heaven when he pulls back enough to focus on the task at hand—a steady, rough rhythm as he fucks you hard, reveling in every whimper and moan and gasp that he drags out of you as he does so. Bottom lip tucked up between his teeth as he stares down at the way that you come undone beneath him. You want him. You desire him. You crave everything about him—most of all, the way that he craves you. 

There's so much behind it, overwhelming in all ways. Another pained, desperate whimper falling from your lips as you reach out towards his face to bring him closer to you. He does, drapes himself over your body as he continues full, pointed drives that have him burying every inch of himself between your legs. You attempt words though it's much of a failure, but Hongjoong seems wildly attuned to the needs of you, your body—brings the hand not clutching at the flesh of your thigh up and into your hair as if to hold you there in place, his lips sitting at the shell of your ear once more to drive you just that much more wild.

"Anything you want," he whispers against you, a call back to an earlier conversation before things ever got this far. Not even all that long ago, either. 

Your muscles tighten, contracting with the impending crash of your orgasm. You know what you want: to feel him like this for as long as you can manage to do so. His lips on your skin, his hands all across your body, the perfect, velvet drag of his cock against your walls—a desire to taste him, watch him come against your tongue—and perhaps even the filthy desire to be had by him, taken by him, in all of the other ways that people who engage in debauchery do. Even currently fucked by him, your mind wanders briefly to the thought of a hand tightly wrapped around your throat, and his cock embedded tightly in your ass.

Anything you want. What do you want? This?

"'m coming—" you gasp, the words barely even coherent enough to be understood, but Hongjoong is attuned to it, to your body in such an unfathomable way. Delivers into you harder, longer, more fulfilling strokes until you're whining and begging and nearly crying out as your release crashes down upon your body. Eyes rolling, crown of your head pushed back and into the mattress as your body arches up and against his own—orgasm ravaging you, claiming you for his.

Hongjoong hisses at the tail end of yours, two, three drives tip to hilt inside of you and then he buries himself deep to the point that it nearly pains you to have him so hard and heavy and be so full of him, but he holds you there—down and against him and in place as he empties inside of your cunt with a few pulsing, firm throbs.

The weight of reality crashes down much faster than you suppose you might have anticipated—if you were to have considered this to ever be an option that you would go through with.

Your stomach turns, chest clenches tight, and throat runs dry. Hongjoong kisses you on the mouth and that distracts you long enough—still melting into his touch—what you've done not enough to put you off of the man that has been your ultimate moral failing.

How did you get here? How did you allow this to happen?

It's in that moment that you hear the vibration of your phone from inside of your purse, left somewhere along the floor in the flurry of sexual deviancy. Hongjoong lies himself on top of you fully, holding you to the mattress as his lips find your neck and trail hot, wet kisses into the skin there, as if still in need of your body. As if just having had you moments ago not even close to enough to take the edge of his want for you off.

And it's just as intoxicating to you as before. Eyes closing, palms running up his back and nails digging into his skin as you feel him gently begin drives of himself inside of you once more. Softening, spent length still nestled against your walls, marred and marked with his cum even still as he shallowing fucks into you again.

"Ignore it," he whispers into your skin, teeth finding the flesh in a way that has you keening.

"I have to—" you start, finding all of the will inside of yourself to pull away just enough to locate the bag. Hongjoong once more pushes your back down against the mattress, continues his handwork on your body as you do whatever task it is that you need to do, unbothered by the fact. "It might be my—"

Hongjoong's head pops up from the crook of your neck just enough, the two of you making eye contact at your unwillingness to state the obvious. As if he's testing you, waiting to see if you're willing to say the word.

3 Missed Calls.

Terrors strikes through your bones at the sight, already knowing who from. The feeling of a hand slipping down between sweat-dampened bodies not enough to distract you—that is, until his fingers find and begin their work stroking circles against your clit.

"Hongjoong, I have to—"

His hips push forward, firmer once again. His cock hardened and fuller in the meantime and offering deliriously delicious friction that, when paired with the perfect press of his fingers just above the place where he remains buried inside of you, leaves you wildly unable to escape his hold.

"I'm not done with you yet."

You type up a text, send it off just as quickly and toss your phone back to the floor. Hongjoong swiftly changes your positions; lies himself back against the bed and pushes you up to be seated atop him. Body weight pushing him fuller into you, grinding yourself down harder in all of the ways that make your body feel like it's on fire as his hands once more travel your skin—nails digging into your hip, soft pads of his fingers ghosting over the supple flesh of your chest in just the way that has you arching and whimpering for more. 

Over the breathy, quiet groan of Hongjoong from below you, you hear the quiet vibration of your phone receiving a message. Most likely from Seonghwa, because that is the person that your only message this evening has gone out to.

If Yeosang asks, tell him I'm with you. I'll explain tomorrow. Love you.

Only a few more perfect rolls of your hips, and Hongjoong has you unraveling for him all over again.

a/n: oh dear.

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong imagines #yeosang smut #yeosang x you #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x reader #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x y/n #ateez x you

[girls-alias]

A New Start - Dean Winchester

Title: A New Start - Dean Winchester

Words: 1,216

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: fluff.

Prompt:

Dean leaving hunting just so he can be with you.

I sat in the library, book in hand as I read the book to escape the real world. I love reading and today was no different. I was in the library multiple times every week, all the librarians knew my name and they even offered me a job interview. I think I'm going to attend. I love the library so much that to pass up the opportunity would be foolish. Today seemed like any other but proven to be quite different as I read on. 

"Excuse me," a deep voice called to me. I looked up to see a stranger, a complete and handsome stranger. 

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked closing my book with my finger in place so I didn't lose my page.

"Hi, I was just wondering if you knew if they had any books on creature mythology," he asked making me chuckle. 

"Have you asked the librarians?" I asked and he shook his head. 

"They all seemed busy," he commented, I looked over to the desk to see 2 librarians chatting and another reading at the side. I chuckled before standing up. I put my bookmark in place and led the way. 

"Here are some books on mythology and he's a book dedicated to Wendigo, it's quite an interesting read," I explained and he smiled brightly. 

"Thanks, you like mythical creatures?" He asked and I smiled. 

"I find them interesting, I don't know if I think they're real but it's quite fascinating," I explained and he smiled brightly. "Are you writing a paper on them?" I asked but he shook his head. 

"I'm not the college student type," he explained so I nodded. 

"Well, I hope you find what you're looking for," I walked away with a smile. I went back to my seat and continued reading. I found myself looking around slightly to see if he was anywhere close but I hadn't spotted him. After a while, I lost hope that he was still here. A few hours passed and I packed up my things. I started approaching the door when Cara, a librarian, called me over. I approached with a wide smile, she smirked like she had a secret. 

"A man left you his number," she explained making my cheeks go red. 

"What book did he check out?" I asked hoping it was the guy I helped find the books he was looking for. She started tapping on her computer. 

"He checked out with the name of Dean and he got a book on Wendigo's and another on sirens," I smirked knowing it was him. She handed me a small piece of paper. 

"He was extremely handsome so if you don't call him I will," she joked making me laugh. 

"Thanks, I'll probably see you tomorrow," I announced with a quick goodbye to the other librarians. I walked out with a wide smile. I can't believe he left me his number. I started walking down the street and went to my local diner. I took my usual seat in the corner and the waitress instantly brought me a tea with the right amount of sugar on the side. I'm becoming too predictable.

"The usual?" She asked making me chuckle. 

"Yes please," I added as I opened my book. As I pulled it out the piece of paper with Dean's number on it fell out of my bag. I decided to pull my phone out and enter the number. Rather than calling him I texted.

Me: Hey, is this the guy from the library? (He replied almost instantly.) Dean: I'm Dean. I didn't want to disturb your reading again so I hope you don't mind that I left my number. Me: of course not. I'm Y/N. Dean: pretty name.

We started texting a little and every time I send a message I heard a slight buzz. I looked around and spotted a man with his back turned to me.

Me: by any chance are you in the diner? Dean: yeah, how'd you know? Me: I can hear your phone buzz.

I looked over to see him smiling at me. He called the waitress over before standing, grabbing his brown leather jacket from the back of his chair and approaching me. 

"Hey, mind if I sit with you?" He asked with a beautiful smile. 

"Go ahead," I added and smiled as he took a seat opposite me. 

We started chatting and getting to know each other before our food arrived. We had the same cheeseburger and chips so he explained that he liked that I wasn't the type to just eat a salad. I couldn't help but giggle. As we ate we started talking about the book I recommended and ended up talking for hours about all kinds of things. He seemed pretty open and I learnt a lot about him. He had a brother who passed away recently who was a book worm, he had no other family except a man called Bobby who was pretty much his father figure, he was staying in a motel, he loves the town and is considering staying even though he's usually on the road. 

"Do they do apple pie here?" He asked as he looked over the menu. 

"No, there's only three places to get apple pie around here," I explained and he looked at me expectantly. "The market but it's not fresh, my neighbour makes the best pies in the world and I know her recipe." Dean suddenly looked excited. 

"Apple pie is my kryptonite," he chuckled making me laugh. 

"My kryptonite is ice cream, if anyone gives me ice cream I'm like a stray dog, I will follow them home," I joked making him laugh. The waitress brought over our separate bills and explained they were closing in 10 minutes. Is it 10 o'clock already?! Time flies. We packed up our things and walked to the counter where we paid our bills. We walked out and turned to each other. "I should start heading home," I explained and he nodded with a slightly sad smile. "I can drive you if you like? My car is just here," he explained making me smile. 

"I would love that," I added and he smiled brightly.

I woke up with a wide smile as I saw Dean shaking me awake. 

"Good morning beautiful," he chirped making me smile wider as I stretched. "Good morning, baby," he added as he kissed my stomach. He does it every morning and every time it makes me excited for his birth. He kissed my lips with so much love and I melted into his lips. 

"Can't we just stay in bed?" I asked making him chuckle. 

"How about we make some breakfast, go to the store and have a movie night?" He asked making me smile excitedly. 

"A thousand times yes," I commented making him chuckle. 

"Happy anniversary," he added as he kissed me.

"Happy anniversary, baby," I replied in between kisses.

The baby boy was placed on my chest as I recovered from the pain of labour. Dean stood close trying to get a good look.

"Hi, Sammy Stitch Winchester," I commented and Dean smiled at me brightly. He looked just about ready to cry. This is my life right here in this room and I love it!

Masterlist

Working On

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester fic #spn #spn fanfic #fluff #love

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

When two of my loved ones died last year, my writing seriously waned and then eventually stopped all together. I was in the process of getting a new job & graduating at the time and the combination of full-time work, finishing my studies and grief just stopped me from taking part in hobbies as much. Despite still having good friends / rp partners around, I can't help but feel like I'm trying to scrape up what I once had. I'm desperately trying to return to threads and writing as I know so many look down on me for making blogs or posting only headcanons without consistent threads. It goes without saying that I lost both long-term and short-term roleplay partners during this time. I see the posts and comments here about blog hoppers and people not writing enough threads and it upsets me to see so many not give their partners the benefit of the doubt. I've had a strange experience with all of this; people accusing me of being a bad roleplayer for taking a step back, the ones who become disappointed when I didn't reply to a thread, or if I make a new blog. It's very sad as I like to think of myself as patient and hardly expectant at all of my partners. I'm always around, whether they abandon or move blogs or drop a thread or what. Ultimately, I'd love to start writing as much as I once would. Unfortunately, I think the trauma of last year cut me so deeply that I'm still working on patching up that wound. All in all, what I'm trying to say, is that you should give your partner's patience and understanding. Slowness happens to all of us, even if it stings a little when your writing friend isn't around. I wish more of the RPC would be patient and laid-back about writing, sometimes, it really does feel like work.

#general #confessions

[vettelsvee]

I FORGIVE YOU, SEB | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist | season 1

history series season 2: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

summary: things are so difficult between seb and di, but they try to make things work... or, at least, that's seb's goal

word count: 3974

warnings: bad language, curse words, toxic relationships, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex (blowjob). everything that is represented here doesn’t define how drivers are in real life. remember this is a fictional work and all you see represented here is just fiction. narrated in both di and seb's pov.

a/n: posting this from uni because i've been so stressed that i totally forgot about posting the last chapter, as well as a few one shots, i'm sorry! buuuut... history season 2 is just finished! history season 3, leave, will be posted from may 24th to may 31st.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff @roisinivy] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!

2009

Heppenheim, Germany

Sebastian

"I've talked to Di and we're going to meet."

Britta's expression was a picture when I told her that, so was mine even though I tried to show just the opposite: confidence.

After my words, I positioned myself in front of the woman, who was lost in the pages of a magazine, absorbed, possibly reading about how Jenson Button had won the 2009 Formula 1 season, completely deservedly, over yours truly, Sebastian Vettel, and also about the high chances the newly incorporated Fernando Alonso had of winning the next one.

"Sebastian Vettel is nothing but a spoiled, pampered child, who is being given everything he definitely does not deserve, for being a false young promise in the world of motorsport. What the German does best is to put on shows and be the center of attention, just as it happened with Diana Wagner at the last German Grand Prix. The girl, an Austrian living in Barcelona and, let's not deny it, quite attractive, is now happily pregnant by Nico Rosberg, with whom she started her relationship..."

I couldn't continue reading the nonsense that the media had been talking about lately since Rosberg was seen with that blonde who, while they didn't know she was Di, I knew perfectly as soon as I saw her face because I knew her all too well. My nerves plummeted, and that's why, as if it were a reflex act, I did nothing but snatch the tangle of photos and gossip from my PR and tossed it aside, without looking where it fell, but forgetting about its existence shortly after.

"Why did you do that?" she yelled at me, visibly angry, pointing her index finger at me. "What do you mean you're going to talk to Diana?"

Didn't she understand German or was I explaining myself poorly?

"I've talked to Di and we're going to meet," I repeated, a little louder this time. "We're going to meet at a nearby café. I think we need to clarify everything that has happened since..."

"Since she found out you were dating Hanna because you didn't bother to be more careful or put in enough effort to hide it," she cut me off.

Exactly.

"You know as much as I do that was going to happen," I countered, even though she was right, simply because, as always, I didn't want to admit it.

"Don't you dare contradict me, Sebastian Vettel," she replied, now standing up and approaching me angrily. "And even less so on this. Most of what has happened, if not all, has been your fault."

That was a lie. The fault had been solely Hanna's for behaving so badly with Diana that day, or my sister's, who sometimes seems stupid and doesn't know when to keep quiet.

I didn't know that Prater was kissing me on purpose so that my paddock girl would see it and it would bother her. Either that, or I pretended so well not to hurt my girl, the love of my life, by not having her at a Grand Prix earlier.

Whatever it was, everything went from bad to worse, and it ended up hurting me more than expected because not only did I have to endure days of bad mood from my girlfriend, but also desperation and headaches from not receiving a response to the voicemail I sent to Di.

And here we are now.

"Before you tell me that the fault lies with Hanna, who was only happy to finally spend time with her boyfriend," she began to lecture me, "or with your sister, who is just a child who did it to enjoy time with her family," was she reading my mind or was I dreaming? "you know it's yours and yours alone."

Yes, I knew all that was true- However, it was easier for me to deal with the guilt and the sense of guilt if I blamed others for asking for what, although at first I thought it would be something more routine in my life, ended up becoming something essential that I never thought I would lose.

Better than something, someone.

"You've completely ignored Diana since you yelled all those things at her at Nürburgring and she ran away. And Hanna? I don't want to speak ill of her," she clarified before saying anything else, "but you've allowed her to come between your friendship with Diana and not only that: to manipulate you too."

"Britta, it wasn't like that," I tried to defend my... girlfriend? "I was the one who started to obsess about whether I wanted Hanna or Di, and I became almost sickly obsessed with the latter to the point that I made Hanna feel bad. It's my fault no matter how much I try to play dumb most of the time," I admitted.

"And didn't she make Diana feel bad because of her jealousy? Because she couldn't stand that there was a remote possibility that you might replace her with your teammate?"

She didn't just make her feel bad, she made her feel like the crap you find lying on the ground that everyone steps on except you, because you don't want to get dirty. She had enough the previous year with Alex and company, and that's why I tried to talk to my girlfriend. Every attempt to make her see reason, to my misfortune and, above all, Di's, was in vain: according to her, Diana was just a hindrance in her path, and that's why she ended up clashing with her several times. And if she kissed me in the middle of the garage, it was because she felt like it, not because she wanted to make her feel bad. That was the last thing she intended.

Could that, Hanna's possible manipulation, be causing my confusion? Or was it that I was...?

It didn't matter. After all, it was not important to rack my brains over a person who was no longer in my life; at least, not as much as before or as much as I would like.

"It's not your confusion, Sebastian," I didn't understand how the woman in front of me was guessing each and every one of the thoughts I was having. "You simply didn't try hard enough to take care of that friendship, and that's what made Hanna, in the end, get her way."

"Di should have understood from the beginning that we were together," I ignored her little speech. I was tired of hearing things that, from my point of view, weren't true.

She sat back down on the couch, inviting me to sit beside her. As soon as I did, I noticed that her expression was completely different from what it usually was: while Britta used to be smiling most of the time, now she seemed more serious, and that was not at all common for her.

"Listen to me carefully, Sebastian," she took my face in her hands and brought our faces as close as possible. "Neither you are to blame for falling in love with Diana, nor is she to blame for you behaving like this with her."

Like this? Ignoring her, as I should have done from the beginning, and putting my girlfriend before her?

Britta was crazy, and she kept saying more and more crazy things that made me feel crazier.

Or was I the one with the problem, and she was just making me see reality?

"Don't you think Hanna is afraid?" Roeske interjected after an uncomfortable silence of just a few seconds.

"Afraid of what?" I asked, not understanding what she meant.

"Of being replaced," she snapped. "Of being replaced by Di."

My head began to accumulate a series of thoughts that I couldn't describe. I was sure that Hanna had been the love of my life for quite some time; at the same time, I knew firsthand that all the jealousy attacks and gossip she unleashed about the blonde who was becoming my favorite were just that: nonsensical words about someone you don't really know.

We tend to prejudge and hurt when we don't know the true identity of someone, and that's the saddest thing about this world: that we rarely get to know the real face of people because we don't give them the chance. And whose fault is that? Ours, for speaking before knowing.

I know that if Di and Hanna weren't caught up in all this turmoil because of me, they would be good friends. I am lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it, to say that my girls are too similar and different at the same time; and I'm not just talking about physically.

"Maybe Hanna felt threatened by the bond Di and I created last year," I admitted.

"Does Hanna know you're meeting Diana?"

No way.

"What? No!" I yelled. "If Hanna panics, I panic… And if I panic, the media panics and start talking shit as usual," I explained as I quickly moved around the living room. "I also don't want to give you extra work during the holidays, Britta. You know how I am."

"Exactly, because I know how you are, it's what scares me the most," she objected. "Have you thought about how you're going to tell the media that you've ended your relationship?"

How? Me, ended with Hanna?

"But..."

"You told me you wanted to talk to Wagner about that, Sebastian."

She threw that at me without any scruples, and what shocked me the most, without it being true. If I remember correctly, I hadn't said anything about my breakup in this short conversation we were having because there was nothing to say: Hanna and I hadn't broken up, we were still together and would continue to be. Although I wish not.

What was she saying?

God, feeling confused right now was an understatement. My head was spinning, and I didn't know why. Maybe, I had consumed some weed and that's why I was like this, because it wasn't normal for me to feel more and more confused, as if I were in an alternate reality where I couldn't trust anything or anyone.

"I'm leaving, I can't take this anymore," I lied as best as I could.

I realized I had been talking to myself when I turned around because Britta was no longer there.

I left my house as fast as I could, and a feeling of anxiety began to grow inside me. I felt very strange, and I had no idea why. As soon as I set foot on the street, completely covered in snow, I noticed that although everything around me seemed like my town, in a way it wasn't. With my hands tucked into the pockets of my RedBull jacket, which I hardly ever wore out of season, I was looking around because I had never felt Heppenheim so different.

Children weren't running around on the sidewalks to go to the parks that Lara and Fabian used to frequent, and that Melanie, Stephanie, and I used to visit some years ago; the same was true for the cars, which seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Not to mention the hustle and bustle in the small neighborhood shops and the only shopping center... there was no trace of anyone.

Even the wind's breath was too gentle, and it seemed to mimic the sighs of a sleeping person.

But I focused on what had been going around in my head since that stupid fight on my part, obviously, I had with Diana.

Hanna and she were two people who, with the passing of more or less time, had become fundamental to my life. While Hanna was the person I was sharing my personal life with and building a future, the same thing happened with Di: I literally spent hours with her, especially since the intern had joined, at the same time as me, Red Bull Racing team.

There were too many issues to handle alone, and that's why I hadn't confronted them: hence my anxiety had increased, attacks included. And, if we add the criticism from journalists in the motorsport and gossip world...

Why did I feel the need to hide my friendship with Di from Hanna? And to hide my relationship with Hanna from Di?

And Hanna's jealousy… was it really because she was afraid of losing what we had built up for some time now, and had planned to build in the years to come? I knew my girlfriend had insecurities, just like me, but were they so deep that they would hurt Diana?

Had I lost Di because of fear of the unknown?

The whirlwind was still there when suddenly, I bumped into someone. I lifted my gaze, and there she was, as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her bangs covered her eyes, my favorite physical part of her, more than usual. Despite seeming just as surprised as I was to have run into each other so suddenly, she was, to my surprise, the first to speak:

"Hello, Seb."

"Hello, Di."

I didn't know where to start or what to say to her. There was so much to talk about and, especially, to clarify, that the words began to get stuck in my throat, as if they didn't want to come out. She also seemed very nervous, and that only made me lose myself even more in her.

"I know that maybe it wasn't a good idea to show up here, but I think I owed it to you in some way."

No, she didn't owe it to me, but Diana was too good for this world. In the end, she was the first to articulate a word, her hands pointing to the space around us, which no longer seemed to be my hometown, but the Nürburgring pit lane, right where we last talked. My confusion was evident. At least, that was what the strange look Wagner gave me showed.

"What's wrong with you?" the girl wanted to know, still standing in place, as if she couldn't move. "Is it about what happened here a few months ago?"

"I'm confused, Di," I had the courage to admit.

The blonde nodded understandingly, as if she were a machine.

"I completely understand, Seb. The same thing happens to me with Nico and with you," she replied. Was that why she was dating Rosberg? Her belly, much more noticeable than usual, seemed to suggest otherwise. "Hanna and I... let's say we didn't get along from the beginning," she returned to the previous topic.

"But why?" I insisted almost desperately. "What bothers you about her?"

"I don't know, you should ask her that," she replied honestly. All I know is that your girlfriend wasn't good to me. Besides, after all you told me, here," she pointed to the asphalt, "we became strangers to each other."

"That's what I don't understand, Di," her gaze made me correct myself immediately, "I mean, Diana... You and I are friends, aren't we?"

She shook her head. Iimmediately, she began to nod. She began to hold onto her belly tightly, something I considered as a kind of defense mechanism to feel more comfortable and, in part, calmer.

"Yes, just friends," she clarified with a forced smile. "Do you think we could have something more at some point?"

Yes, of course I wanted something more with her at some point, but I couldn't tell her because I knew she was already making her life with Rosberg… at least according to the media.

I wanted to tell her that I wanted to leave Hanna and start a relationship with her. I wanted her to become Diana Vettel, my wife, and make her the happiest person in the world along with our children. Saying that I wanted to share a life with her for the rest of my life was what I most desired, but not only my voice, but also my pride, and partly my reputation and common sense, made me hide all those feelings.

In those moments, I wished I was Nico Rosberg. The only thing that comforted me was knowing that, knowing me, I would be treating her as she deserved. Di deserved to be treated like a queen, and that was an understatement.

"No," I tried to hide the truth as much as possible. "You and I will always be friends, Diana Wagner."

While Diana kept talking to me about her pregnancy and her relationship with my teammate, I began to hear whispers that gradually became louder, as if someone, shouting in my ear, was interrupting our conversation.

"I know, Sebastian. You and I will always be one, no matter who gets in between us," the Austrian replied, still not moving from her spot.

"Do you think we can try again?" I said, trying not to show the emotion I really felt when I saw a shy smile forming on her face. "Do you think you can forgive me?"

She looked at me and could do nothing but nod repeatedly, as if she were marking some kind of rhythm. Her lips curved even more, and relief began to wash over me.

"I forgive you, Seb."

My eyes snapped open, and I woke up to a little light seeping through the curtains. My heart was racing and sweat was soaking my forehead much more than after a race. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, so I took some time, albeit desperately, to recognize everything.

It was my room. I was on my bed, with Hanna beside me, shaking me as if her life depended on it.

It had all been a dream, and I didn't know how to feel about it, relieved or worried that nothing had been real: relieved because, maybe, there was a remote possibility that Di hadn't gone out with Nico, and worried simply because what had been discussed had been in vain.

"What's wrong, honey?"

My eyes roamed over to my girlfriend, who leaned over me and started planting kisses all over my face. I could see her breasts exposed, and I also felt my nakedness under the sheets. Gradually, I remembered the events of last night and how, after drinking a few too many glasses of champagne with our families for New Year's Eve, Hanna and I ended up begging each other for more pleasure.

"Oh, Seb... stop being so silly," she said, rearranging herself and leaning on the headboard, still looking at me. "It was all a dream, but you don't have to worry about anything or anyone, and much less about the people who don't respond to the voicemails you're so good at hiding!" Her ironic tone made my anger grow a little, but I let it go. It wasn't the day or the right time to finally tell the blonde a few things. "I trust you," she kissed me, "and I know that 2010 is going to be a great year for you," she concluded.

Her words reassured me and reminded me of everything I had done so far, and what I would continue to do until further notice because I couldn't afford to hurt anyone; I was too good even for that, no matter how much the press tried to sell the opposite.

I had to continue ignoring Diana Wagner, act as if she didn't exist, or at least as if she had never appeared in my life and turned it upside down. Turn a deaf ear to the fact that I had fallen in love with her, and forget to acknowledge that I was too afraid to leave Hanna because the unknown terrified me more than I had ever thought. I was used to routine and didn't want to cause more harm than I apparently had to my best friend, Hanna Prater, no matter how much she was doing to me by behaving and talking in such ways about the girl who, in part, could have been me.

If Di, my Di, was the right person, we were right for each other, we would end up finding each other again somehow.

[...]

2009

December 31st Gland, Switzerland

Schumacher Residence

Diana

A black sequined dress, perfectly fitted to my curves, with a quite promising neckline that showed even more than necessary, was what Nico Rosberg, the new Mercedes driver, and my boyfriend, had chosen for our first dinner together. My blonde hair fell over my shoulders, a bit tousled; the same went for my makeup, a little smudged. It had all been the German's idea, who had decided to have a quick session of sex, mainly a blowjob that he had fancied as a belated Christmas gift, before going down to the main hall of the Schumacher residence.

The night before New Year's Eve was going wonderfully. As soon as my boyfriend told me that the family, and more specifically, Michael, his new teammate, had invited us to spend New Year's Eve at their house, I couldn't contain my excitement. Obviously, Nico got angry and yelled at me to stop acting like a fool, that I wasn't five years old to react like that. I was annoyed at first, but I ended up agreeing with him. It wasn't the occasion to behave like a fan going to my idol's house.

Dinner was better than I expected, as well as the warm welcome I received from Corinna, along with the kindness and affection I quickly felt for Gina and Mick while the men chatted, made me feel at home for the first time. I was so relaxed that I didn't even force myself to look for my mobile phone, hidden somewhere among Nico's belongings, to answer the calls that my sister, who was with my father and his sister, my aunt, in the hospital, would have possibly made to me. If something good had come from my father dying faster and faster it was that, in part, the family had come together again.

The countdown began as we talked animatedly about trivial things, like anecdotes and a few jokes. The lights went out suddenly, and I saw the seven-time champion coming with some sparklers in his hands, trying not to burn himself, which he handed out to each of us.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

2010 would indeed be my year, I was sure of that.

"Seven, six, five..."

Remembering him came in flashbacks, and as much as I told myself it was time to get over it, it was impossible, especially when everything seemed so red in my head.

"Four, three, two..."

I had to do my best to leave Sebastian behind, even though forgetting him was like trying to know somebody I never met.

He was my past, and Nico was my future.

"Happy New Year!"

Nico, catching me off guard and ignoring the children's dancing and the affectionate kiss of the married couple, took my chin firmly, forcefully, and kissed me desperately, as if I were going to leave at any moment. His tongue slipped into my mouth even though I hadn't given permission; as always, I ended up reluctantly responding. His hands were roaming my body, and I could feel his desire awaken with the slight touches our intimacy seemed to be igniting.

He knew perfectly well how to make me feel valid, loved, desired; I was clear that if he treated me like this, it was because I deserved it.

If I was a game to Nico Rosberg, I was more than willing to accept all his deals to feel loved by someone once in my life because I knew that no one, never, was going to end up loving me.

As the tabloids had begun to say after the leaked photos in Monaco, who would want to be with a girl like me?

Who would want Diana Wagner?

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #history #vettelsvee #toro rosso #red bull racing #sv5 #red bull f1 #red bull seb #ferrari #ferrari seb #aston martin #Aston Martin f1 #vettel #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel x female character #diana vettel #diana wagner #fanfic #fanfiction #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x fem oc

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 28.

i scrambled around the house trying to find my jacket. of course, i had to lose it at the worst possible time. i had to pick up my parents from the airport in 20 minutes and i needed to leave about 5 minutes ago. what a good impression after not seeing them in almost 2 years. johnnie and jake were still asleep, so i didn't bother waking them up to ask if they've seen it.

the only reason i really needed my jacket is because i did not want my parents to see the tattoo. they'd talk my ear off about how i tainted my perfect skin or some shit. and on top of that, they'd blame johnnie for influencing me to get a tattoo and hate him for it.

i could feel anxiety building up inside. i was going to introduce them to johnnie and tell them he's my boyfriend. of course, they can't do much about it and they can't make me break up with him, but i wasn't so sure they'd approve of him. i took a deep breath and decided to just take one of johnnies hoodies.

with one last deep breath, i walked out the door and was on my way to the airport. i called my mom to let her know i might be a little late due to "traffic." of course, that wasn't the real reason, but i didn't want her giving me shit this early in the morning.

"hello?" she picked up after 5 rings. "hey, sweetie."

"hey, ma. i might be a little late, traffic is a pain right now." i explained and turned onto the highway.

"oh, that's fine," she sounded slightly annoyed, "luggage is taking forever, anyway."

"sounds good, i'll see you soon." i replied before hanging up. i sighed and got lost in the song that was blaring over the radio. my phone buzzed moments later with a text from jake.

jake: hey are you out picking up your parents or where did you go

me: yeah why

jake: cause you woke me up

jake: jk

jake: cause aren't they coming here?

me: uhh no i didn't think you guys would want them there and i don't either so

me: i'm taking them to their hotel room

jake: oh okay

jake: do you want me to wake up sleeping beauty

me: actually yes please we're supposed to go out for brunch in like 2 hours

me: tell him not to stress about time though cause they still gotta check into their hotel

jake: on it

jake: i'll have him call you when he's ready

me: thanks stink

jake: bye.

i parked on the side of the street and waited for my parents to walk out after i texted them and let them know where i was. i watched as their old asses waddled out of the sliding doors. they threw their luggage in the trunk and climbed in the back seat together.

"hey, honey." my fathers raspy, tired voice greeted as he buckled up.

me and my father didn't talk much, it was a phone call or two every couple months but nothing more. definitely not as much as me and my mom even though id rather speak to him than her.

my mother greeted me as well. whenever they were both situated i began to drive towards the hotel. i cleared my throat, feeling as if i was about to vomit. i needed to get the talk out of the way, so i did. "mom, dad, i have a boyfriend." i blurted.

they stayed quiet. my mom spoke up, though. "well, isn't that nice?" she seemed to sound slightly sarcastic as she glanced towards my father.

although, he seemed much more enthusiastic about it. “it’s about time, i was starting to worry!”

i rolled my eyes at the backhanded comment. “well, i was wondering if you guys wanted to go to brunch with him after you two get settled into your hotel room.”

my mom seemed hesitant while it was an immediate yes from my dad. he encouraged her quietly in the back, hoping i wouldn’t hear them over the music, but i did. the music wasn’t even that loud, anyway. i had no clue why my amazing mother wouldn’t want to meet him or wouldn’t want me to even have a boyfriend at the age i am, but i told myself not to stress about it. at least my dad was supportive.

-

i sat on my parents’ bed and caught up with them. they told me how they’d been planning on traveling the world sometime soon since they were starting to get old. my father insisted i try to join them on some of their trips, and i agreed. they also filled me in on how they were planning on handing down the owner shift of our cafe solely to me. a weird mix of anxiety and excitement came with that. nonetheless, i was over the moon about being able to own the cafe. i couldn’t wait to tell johnnie. they were planning on selling the house, my childhood home, and getting a smaller house in a more discreet area. they seemed like they had the rest of their lives planned out. my mom ranted about how she has gotten more into painting and will start sending me the things she has already painted for me while they’re working on packing. she also said she’d be sending me boxes of things from my childhood room so i could decide whether to keep them or throw them out. i was really looking forward to that box.

in return, i filled them in on the past few months of my own life. i explained how i met johnnie through the cafe late one night. of course not the details, though. they don’t need to know he was driving illegally. i also explained all of the ups and downs of the cafe that they’ve missed. then, the worst of all of this. i presented the scar in my hair that peeked through on the very top of my forehead while explaining how my apartment got broken into. expecting scolding from my mother, i mentioned how i had already moved in with johnnie because of those circumstances. of course, i mentioned jake in passing since it was the three of us living there. to say the least, they were shocked about how not boring my life was at this point. my mother almost seemed disappointed, maybe at the fact that i had more going for myself than she ever did. surprisingly, my father was proud of me for pulling through all of that bullshit. growing up, he has always been super distant so this came as a surprise to me. i thought maybe things were turning around in our relationship, but definitely not me and my mothers.

my phone buzzed in my pocket and i immediately answered it. my heart was racing as i picked up, far too excited to hear johnnies voice after this already long morning. “hold on, i’m getting a call.”

i stepped out into the hall and greeted johnnie brightly. “hey, baby.” he responded, i could hear the smile in his voice. “i’m ready to go whenever.”

“do you want to start heading there now and get a table? they’re all checked in and they’re just getting done unpacking their shit, so we won’t be too far behind you.”

“yeah, that works. i won’t lie, i’m really fucking nervous. i feel like i’m about to shit my pants, to be honest.” he confessed. i heard him call jake downstairs so he could drive johnnie there.

“don’t be. they were actually pretty calm at the mention of you and everything else has happened. i think this is going to go a lot better than i expected.” i shifted my weight to the other leg.

he sighed, “that’s good to hear. i’ll see you soon.”

“alright, bye.” i hung up the phone and made my way back into the hotel room.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake webber #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie and jake #cafe aesthetic #cafe #café #hearts4golbach #tara yummy #the night shift

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #169

Not specific lost fics, but I’ve spent weeks looking for fics likes these and haven’t really managed to find any, so we’re throwing them out in the hope our followers know of some!…

1. Hi, do you have a link to a fic where the plot is this; Aziraphale being the angel of queer longing and art and letters and documents and films throughout centuries depicting A and C as impossibly in love with each other? Thank you. - @aroaceblackhole

2. Hello! This is a very odd request but can you help me find a fic where Crowley kills himself and Aziraphale founds out and ALSO kills himself? Or it can be anything in along the line of being killed (Ex: Aziraphale got killed so Crowley kills himself) as long as they both die at the end. I am so sorry if this is super weird to you but i've been trying to find it everywhere but i just can seem to find one. What you are doing here is amazing and i have read such amazing fics because of you. Again, i'm sorry if this request makes you uncomfortable but you're my only chance of actually finding gut wretching fics to violently sob myself to. - anon

3. Hello! I identify with Crowley deeply so if you have a human AU where he treats his abusive parents as a relationship with god I’d appreciate it!! Thank u - @brainwormscauseswisscheese

4. Hello, dear mods! Hope you're having a lovely day. My question is actually 2 mildly relatable questions. I'm looking for humorous fics with either self-mocking or character-mocking author. An example of the latter I saw a long time ago, and it was in the author notes where they joked about something like "well done Crowley, it's not gonna bite you in the ass later in any way, not a chance" and it was a really fun addition, I'm sure some may have put such comments in the text too, but even "they're so dumb" in the notes will do. Example of the former is WyvernQuill's "yes and please and thank you", where they joke right in the text about leaving a character in a tough situation for three years of hiatus, and again, right in the text, do things like "wait, esteemed reader, I'll go check up the synonyms" and proceed with a highly eloquent sentence using like 4 of those. I enjoyed it immensely and would love to find something similar. Thanks! - @greendrawer

5. Hello lovely! I know you have your brilliantly organised tags and I this is an oddly specific ask so I hope you don't mind. Do you have any very fluffy or hurt/comfort ineffable husbands fics with bare skin contact? Not necessarily NSFW or anything, although I don't mind. Thank you! - anon

If you know any fics that fit the bill please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #lost fic #ineffable husbands #mod d