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wolffapex · 1 year

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chapter three — it's me, hi!

this is chiara ratcliffe, or as her family calls her, angel.

→ words counting: 2,5k → warnings: none. → khai's notes: it's time for you guys to meet chiara! this chapter takes place in the same time as the first one, it still is ten years before. and i'd love to know what you guys are thinking about the story so far (we're getting close to toto and angel's first interaction). my ask box is always open!

LONDON

Chiara was a Business & Management student at the University of Cambridge. She wasn’t the one who chose the course because she did not see herself working in the business area. Instead, it has been an imposition from her father since she couldn’t define a specific area to study.

She didn't quite understand her father's desire to want her to study the business area like Samuel, since he was the one who would inherit the position of president of the company when it was the right time meanwhile the brunette didn't have the slightest ability to do so.

Jim always dreamed of having a daughter because it was her wish to name her after her mother, Angelina. When he found out that his wife's second pregnancy was a girl, that had been the happiest day of his life — only surpassed by the day he held little Chiara in his arms for the first time, calming her strong cries and scared, still dirty, minutes after Pilar gave birth.

Coincidentally, Pilar's pregnancy had been discovered the day Angelina passed away, which made the businessman believe that the girl would arrive to make his days shine again after a period of darkness with the loss of his mother, with whom he had always had a very strong bond.

Therefore, in addition to honoring the eldest, he also decided to make that glow that he felt the baby possessed, especially when her eyes turned to his face at the moment when she snuggled comfortably into his chest, ceasing the cry, you name it.

Chiara Angelina.

Or, for the Ratcliffes, Angel.

The nickname that accompanied her since she was a child, her parents discovered that it fit perfectly with her when the girl began to demonstrate her personality as the years went by and she grew up.

Jim liked to call her a free spirit and, while his wife and daughter had constant clashes due to their differences, he just got used to the way of being light, relaxed, uncomplicated and creative that she exuded but always trying to get her ready for the real world.

Chiara and Jim had an excellent relationship because he understood her, and the youngest did her best not to let him down. That was why she had entered the course he set and why she was attending University in Cambridge: she didn't want to let her father down — nor lose the bond and closeness they had.

The brunette liked to share moments with her family, so, even if she wasn't a big fan of motorsport, she liked to sit with her father and brother on Sunday to watch the cars racing in circles, not even even trying to understand at least what was happening on track.

So it was no surprise when Sam told him that his father had decided to sponsor a team for the last race of the year. Even though she didn't know much about the sport, she had heard — many times — the story of Juan Fangio, the idol of the oldest in the sport, which explained his love for Mercedes.

That Tuesday morning, Chiara had woken up late again, but it didn't matter too much because she lived less than one hour ride to the campus. She would she miss the first class but her grades in that subject were good enough to allow her to miss it.

— Good morning, Angel! — Samuel greeted her as soon as she entered the kitchen in the morning.

Very different from her, who was still wearing gray pajamas with sleeves and long pants, the oldest was already properly dressed for the day at work at the company downtown.

— Good morning. — Agnes smiled from where she was sitting, greeting her cousin with a nod and raising her cup of coffee for her to drink.

— Good morning, Agnes and Sam. — she smiled, rubbing a hand across her eyes, still sleepy and feeling her head throb a little while she assimilated the light that entered through the kitchen, which added to the white furniture in the room, only served to make her head hurt more at that moment. — Where are Mom and Dad?

— I just love how your hangovers corrupt your memory. — Samuel replied, shaking his head. — Dad's gone to Brackley and must go straight to the company, and Mummy's with Jud.

— Oh. — she nodded but totally regretted it because her head felt like was about to explode. — He wants to sponsor that team... — she put her hand to her chin, trying to remember the name and kicked the first one that came to her mind. — Ferrari?

— Mercedes, Angel. — Agnes corrected her, laughing when her cousin pointed in her direction, celebrating that even she knew the name of the Formula 1 team. — And, apparently, you won a trip!

— A trip? — she repeated, walking towards the sink to get a glass of water so she could wash one of the aspirins that her cousin had left on the counter. — Where to?

— We were invited to watch the race straight from Abu Dhabi. — Sam explained with a smile from ear to ear on his face. — We're going to watch everything straight from the paddock! Do you realize what it means, Angel?

— No, but you are making it sounds like something out of the ordinary. — she commented, making Agnes laugh.

— It's amazing!

The brunette's eyebrows arched as she filled a mug with coffee, raising her face to be able to face her cousin at the exact moment a smile appeared on her lips when she heard the sentence spoken by her brother.

— Can you imagine the party they are having? — the other's laugh made Samuel roll his eyes, irritated because she wasn't excited for the chance to follow a Grand Prix weekend as he was.

— Football players and Formula 1 drivers are people who know how to party. — Agnes replied as the brunette nodded, raising the mug to her lips to hide the smirk that appeared.

— I won’t ask if you've been to one of their parties to comment like that. — the older commented, forcing an expression of disgust while the two laughed. — We travel on Thursday, Angel.

— Thursday? — she repeated it just to make sure she had heard it right, leaving the mug on the table and quickly turning her face to face her brother. — I have a party the day before... It’s the last one of this period.

— Are you really trading a trip to Abu Dhabi for a party?

— I'm trading twenty-one hours on a flight so I can drink with my friends. — she blinked in his direction. — And I don't even like Formula 1.

— But you know our father well and how he values our presence at events, especially if it is to represent the company. — the elder smiled sarcastically and she wanted to roll her eyes.

— Do you want to go in my place? — she asked, staring at her cousin while Samuel rolled his eyes, leaving the kitchen, huffing because she wasn't as excited as he was for an incredible opportunity like that. — Agnes, I'll pay you.

— It's a tempting proposition, Angel. She smiled, but shook her head from side to side. — But I already have appointments.

— You have to take advantage of the fact that my father doesn't make you go to his appointments.

— I'm not even a Ratcliffe, dear. — she winked, laughing as the older one rolled her eyes. — By the way, aren't you late?

The comment made Chiara widen her eyes, turning her face to look at the kitchen clock, realizing that it was approaching nine forty-five in the morning, which made her jump up, causing Agnes to laugh.

Turns out she was late but the financial math class was so boring that Chiara spent more than half of it tapping the iPad pen against the cover of the electronic device, completely lost in her own thoughts.

She couldn't deny that the trip was on her mind, even if it was to follow a sport that she didn't att all about because she was absolutely certain that she could manage to have a lot of fun.

So the rest of her time in math class she spent using Google to find the best places to go in Abu Dhabi because, while her family was entertained with what would happening on the track, she would be enjoying the night of the the way she liked best.

When the end of the class was announced, she got up from her seat quickly. Her boredom wasn't just the fact that the subject was boring, but also the absence of her classmate and best friend.

Checking her watch, the brunette decided to head to the outside area of the campus, where she usually stayed with her friends, finding Antoine sitting at one of the available tables with a strange expression on his face while the cell phone was glued to his ear.

She approached, smiling and waving in his direction, receiving a light wave and a sad wave in return, which only made her knit her eyebrows together as she settled on one of the benches, trying not to pay too much attention to the conversation of the friend — although his curiosity wouldn't allow that to happen — focusing only on his cell phone to see what was new in his Instagram feed.

Antoine Benoit Cléments was not very different from Chiara. The young Frenchman had moved to Cambridge to study Business & Management because his brother had lived in the city for a few years, but he wanted to return to Paris as soon as he finished the course.

Even though he enjoyed the experience of living abroad, getting to know a new culture and new people, Cléments preferred to be close to his parents and the family business, which his mother told him by phone was not doing well.

Cousineau was the brand of Antoine's family, created by his grandfather because his grandmother had the dream of having a line, located in the region called Triangled D'Or in the delimitation of the avenues Champs-Élysées, Montaigne and Georges V, forming part of Parisian Haute Couture.

Chiara knew Antoine's family and was well aware that the brand was going through a bad time, which made her friend look forward to graduation so that she could return to her home country to help the family rebuild Cousineau.

— Is everything is okay? — she asked when she saw him end the call, leaving his phone on the table and letting out a long sigh while resting his head on his hands, making her place a hand on his shoulder, moving his thumb up and down over the your blouse. — Antoine?

— It seems things are getting worse at Cousineau. – he replied in a low voice. — My mother said that she had to fire half of the staff and that maybe there will be no collection for the next fashion week…

— That could make you lose your permanent status, wouldn't it? — she arched her eyebrows upon realizing the fact and her friend nodded, sighing again.

— That's why I'm like this… I can only imagine the worst case scenario, Chia.

— If you want, I can talk to my father and…

— No, please. — he lifted his head, smiling gently at her. — I love you and I love your family, but I don't want your money.

— It could be a kind of sponsorship, as he is doing with the Formula 1 team… — she shrugged, smiling shyly in the direction of her friend who knitted his eyebrows.

— Is your father sponsoring a Formula 1 team?

— Yes. — she replied. — That earned us a trip to Abu Dhabi for the last race on their calendar.

— Sounds like fun.

— Looks like I'm going to make it all fun. — she winked at him, which made him chuckle.

— Please, don't go sleep with any driver. — he said, seeing her friend widen her eyes in her direction before laughing weakly.

— That reminds me I didn't check the drivers' list. — she smirked. — Do you think there’s anyone capable of catching my attention?

— That's a conversation you should be having with the girls, not me. — he smiled weakly, somewhat uncomfortable with the subject and the brunette shrugged.

— Where are they anyway?

— They said they wouldn't come today because they needed to sort out some things for the party. — he said. — Are you going or will the trip to Formula 1 stop you from enjoying it?

— You know, Benoit, sometimes it seems like you don't know Chiara Angelina Ratcliffe.

He laughed because it was obvious that her friend wouldn't miss a night like that to travel.

— I would love to see you try to get out of bed to catch a flight after a party…

— Sleep with me and you'll see, Benoit.

— Again? — he arched his eyebrows, smiling slyly in her direction and Chiara hurried to slap his arm, not caring at all about his complaint about the pain.

A few months ago, she and Antoine had slept together after getting drunk at a party. She didn't remember very well what the night had been like, nor did he, and amidst the awkwardness came a pact to remain just friends — which seemed to be enough for the two of them at the time, but which, as time went on, time, it didn't seem to be more for the French.

However, given the pact made because they didn't want to run the risk of spoiling their friendship, he preferred to just be by Chiara's side, swallowing his own feelings towards her, emphasizing their friendship and partnership.

Having her around, even if it wasn't one hundred percent the way he wanted it, it was the way he could have it and it was so much better than nothing.

#toto wolff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula one fanfic

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nerves-nebula · 1 year

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Seeing some of the anons disclose about incest.. It reminded me about a few incidents that happened when I was very young.

One of them was just my twin and I being curious and exploring, but we didn't do anything too bad. It was just visually observing and we only did that once with each other. However, everything else that happened to us directly.. Wasn't so innocent.

One of my clearer memories was when my older sister (who was in her early teen years) made my twin and I kiss each other for treats (like goldfish and marshmallows). Knowing now as an adult, that is no way near okay. I don't know what was running through her mind or if something happened to her, but that doesn't give her an excuse to have her baby siblings fill out her curiosities/fantasies.

And then there was this very strange incident. I can't recall if this happened before or during kindergarten, but my twin and I woke up having no memory of the night prior. All we knew in that moment was that we were only wearing underwear and a shirt, with our pajama pants on the floor near our individual beds. We didn't know what happened, but we felt as though something was wrong (but we didn't know what that something was). We just stared at each other blankly for a bit and then got dressed to go eat breakfast with our family.

There was no signs of penetration or anything, but both my twin and I felt off.. Violated to say. Even as young adults, we both remember it so clearly. And it doesn't help that as a kid, I would constantly get dreams of being humiliated and molested by three boys. I just really hope that those dreams of mine aren't saying that my three older brothers did something to my twin and I 😥

Apologies for the vent, I just don't know how to process my experiences as I never really outright expressed them (especially towards my parents and 4 older siblings)

hey bud i don't wanna push but if you have 3 older brothers and you had nightmares of 3 guys abusing you, that seems to coincidental to not be related.

and with your older sister doing that weird shit to you, then there's a chance she got that kind of behavior from somewhere. so like. yeah, sorry.

#nnstuff #ask #incest tw #sa tw #csa tw #cocsa tw

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hotfanfics · 2 years

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Jessie Spano’s New Attire: Saved by the Bell

Based on: Saved by the Bell by Peter Engel

Rating: 14+

During a sleepover at the Jessie Spano household with the SBTB gang, Kelly and Lisa are wearing their fairly conservative pajamas before the boys, Zack, Slater and Screech come by. Jessie, on the other hand, wears a little something out of the ordinary for her.

Lisa: (to Kelly) Woah, Kelly, girl. You lookin' fine in those PJs of your's. Kelly: Oh, thanks. Thought I'd wear something a little conservative so the boys would go too crazy. Lisa: Good idea. I decided to wear a robe that looks better on me, as well. Kelly: Yeah, so where's Jessie? She says she's got new PJs she picked out for herself. Lisa: What do you think is it gonna be? Baggy ones that looks like something a guy or my grandma would wear?

Both Kelly and Lisa laugh. Jessie enters in wearing her pajamas consisting of extremely tight and extremely short flannel PJ short shorts emphasizing on her legs and her butt most of all, and a baggy jersey, much to Kelly and Lisa's shock and surprise. Jessie Spano for once in her life parading around showing off her assets in THE tiniest, tightest, smallest pair of short-shorts anyone has ever worn on this planet Earth, it’s so criminally short, accentuate heavily on Jessie Spano’s buttocks to the point where it looks like body paint, and shows off a great deal of not only leg, but skin as well, adding to the titillation and sex appeal, it’s now wonder her nickname is “Jessie “Legs” Spano”. And jersey adds a nice touch to the sexiness of her choice of night attire. Jessie’s choice of outfit is rather daring, wearing it around a bunch of hormonal-charged teenage boys and the fact that she thinks clothing like this is sexist.

Jessie: Hello, gals. Well, what do you think?

(if you look behind, you’ll see how short the short-shorts are and how much it looks like body paint, making her look like she’s half naked).

Lisa: Woah! Dang, Jessie, you got it going on, girl! Kelly: Wait a minute, Jessie, you, are wearing that? Those short shorts?! Jessie: Yes?

(from the front, it looks as if she ain’t wearin’ any panties, showing off her cameltoe).

Coincidentally, Jessie is also holding a baseball bat that adds far more sex appeal to her really short short-shorts due to it’s phallic look. She holds it as if it’s like an erect penis.

Kelly: Lisa, I think we might be in The Twilight Zone. Jessie: Now what do you mean by that, Kelly? Lisa: She's saying that you of all people are seriously wearing those shorty shorts? The one whose always saying that clothing like that is sexist and degrading? Kelly: Yeah, what's up with that? Jessie: Nothing, just thought I'd have a change in outfits. And plus, I wanna drive Slater crazy, off-the-wall, you know. So I decided to show a little skin to get tease him a little. Kelly: Well, you're not only going to drive Slater off-the-wall. Zack and Screech are also gonna go bananas over your hot bod in those shorts. Trust me, if you know teenage boys as well as I do, you would not want to wear short-shorts that short in front of them. Jessie: Oh come on, gals. Kelly gets to dress like a floozy and I don't. Kelly: A floozy?! What kind of girl do you think I-

The door opens, then enters in Zack, Slater and Screech.

Zack: Hey girls, we're all rea- woah! Slater: I never knew Jessie could looker any hotter! Screech: Guys, I think I'm gonna wet my pants! Jessie: Ew! You macho pigs! Slater: Jessie, how comes you never wore anything like this before? You always looked attractive to me, but I didn't think for a minute you looked so sexy in shorts! Woah, mamma! Jessie: To keep macho pigs like you from drooling. Slater: Well, at least I'll have something to think about when I'm alone. I can already imagine Jessie without them on, right guys?! Zack: Those shorts will never leave my mind. They could be painted-on for all we know! Screech: I'll have lots to think about in my dreams, hot stuff. Look at those bare long legs.

(Jessie’s got some incredible legs and such smooth delicious skin that I’d pour barbecue sauce on those lean mean bare thighs. Jessie Spano sure has no problem showing a lot of skin).

Slater wolf whistles at Jessie as she goes back to change into a more conservative choice of PJs.

Slater: (wolf whistles) Yeah mama! You gotta great pair of legs, Jessie! Try and wear short-shorts like that! I know what I’ll be doing in a little bit, fellas.

Zack and Screech: (at the same time) Me too!

Screech: I also like the way she holds that bat too! She looks as if she’s rubbing an erection. Ha-ha!

Kelly and Lisa: You macho pigs!

Zack, Slater and Screech: (stutter like pigs) Oink! Oink!

Slater sees Jessie walking in those little short-shorts, getting him sexually aroused.

Slater: (thinking) Man! That Jessie is sure sexier than the rest of the girls in class. I like the way she walks. (looks down) Oh no! Not at this moment! Curse you puberty! I don’t want Kelly and Lisa to see!

Jessie accidentally drops her baseball bat. She bends over and Zack, Slater and Screech gaze her butt that her short shorts wedged into. They both places their hands over their crotches, while Slater’s erect gets out of control, he unzips his pants, runs over to a still bent-over Jessie and begins to bang her brains out.

Jessie: (moaning) Oh! Oh my goodness! Oh, Slater! I didn’t think you had that in mind! What am’I talking about, of course I do!

Slater: Jessie, you are the absolute hottest chick around! You're the whole package! Having great legs, smooth bare skin and a wonderful shapely booty that I'm finally now getting to pound! Jessie: Well, don't expect me to say this to often, but, I did this all for you. I admire your love for my body. I do work out quite alot. Oh! Oh! Oh! O-o-o-h-h-h-h!!!!

Slater continues to have sex with Jessie until he eventually orgasms, leaving them both satisfied. The gang are rather entertained by this, while Zack and Screech have wet their pants.

Zack: I think I wet myself!

Screech: I’ve been wet myself!

The Next Day

Slater is in his bed at home in his room, he is masturbating at the thought of Jessie in her short-shorts once again.

Slater: (to himself) Oh, yes! Jessie! You’ve got such great smooth thighs, and such a tight juicy butt! You must workout a lot!

The phone rings!

Slater: Oh great! Just when I was getting to blow my load! (on the phone) Yeah! What the hell do you want?!

Jessie: Slater! Is that anyway to talk to your wife?!

Slater: O-oh! H-hey Jessie-bear! Boy, last night was great! I never felt so much pleasure before. Zack and Screech were real jealous about the fact I pounded your fabulous buns last night. You need to wear stuff like that more of--Wait! W-what was that about “wife”?!

Jessie: W-well, it may surprise you to know, that.......I-I’am pregnant!

Slater: What?! Are you serious Jessie: I'm afraid so. Slater: I knew this would happen, but my hormones get the best of me when it comes to hot gal. Jessie: Now, calm down. Slater: I can't calm down! This is all your fault you know! If you hadn't wore those incredibly short short-shorts around me tucked into your firm butt, this wouldn't have happened! Jessie: Wait, Slater, are you slut-shaming me?! Slater: Yeah! You're the one who started it! Jessie: You can't blame this one on me! You boys have the urge to control yourself! Just because I wear certain outfits, no matter how revealing it is, you should not blame it on me. You should've masturbated instead, you macho pig! Slater: But you like it when I sticked my wiener into you. You didn't complain!

Jessie: Slater, look, lets not argue, I want to be sure I don’t too much pressure on the baby.

Slater: Well, okay. Let’s just be sure to keep this from our parents. And please try and dress more conservatively next time!

It is then shown that Jessie and Slater’s parents were listening in on the conversation, they look at each other.

AUDIENCE ROAR WITH LAUGTHER

THE END

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celestialrry · 3 years

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i’m sorry

2.4k

summary: Harry dates you because he knew you were interested, and well, he needed a good fuck.

warnings: Mentions of sex, a bit of fluff, a whole lotta angst, and a shitty ending

“Stop!” You laughed as Harry blew raspberries on your bare tummy. It tickled profusely and there were no signs of him stopping anytime soon. You kicked your legs in an attempt to shake him off, but as he had been doing this from your left side on the bed, you truly just ended up moving the down comforter around. He just pushed up his t-shirt that you were wearing further up to your chest and blowing more raspberries on your skin.

Your head fell back in laughter and smiles and you then felt his lips move off of your body. When you stopped laughing, you looked to your stomach to see Harry resting his arms and head on it, looking up at you with a dimpled grin on his face. “What?” you asked, smiling at him.

“M’just so lucky to have you s’all.” he mumbled, not breaking eye contact.

Your cheeks heated up and you bit your lip in an attempt to stop the biggest smile from reaching your face. “I feel the same, lover-boy.” You said, reaching down to play with his hair. He simply planted a kiss on your stomach before closing his eyes as you continued to mess with hair, relishing in the calmness of your morning.

You weren't living with Harry, the two of you had yet to say those three words, and the two of you barely got time off of work, but when you both had time off, it was domestic bliss. You had been dating for a little over 6 months, and you wanted to spend every waking moment with him. Today, he was having a few friends over and you were going to visit your friend who had come to London for a work trip, and she just had one free day.

After a few minutes had passed, you stopped running your hands through Harry’s hair and you swore you heard him whine. “I have to go back home and get ready.” You said softly, dragging your hand through his curls one last time before sitting up in his bed. He slowly got up as well, planting kisses to your nose, cheeks, and lips before rolling out of bed, and you did the same.

You slipped on the sweats you had come over in, and hesitated taking off his shirt. “Wear it t’day,” He said, looking at you before looking back to his closet. “What?” You asked. You knew he enjoyed you wearing his clothes around either yours, or Harry’s respective home’s, but in public? “Wear m’shirt today, that way it’s guaranteed y’come back here tonight, and then I can take it off you.” he said, smirking at you. You just laughed a bit and rolled your eyes before putting your bra on underneath the shirt. “Always so cheeky,” You grinned before slipping on your jacket. “So you want me over tonight?”

“Always want y’over pet, but yes, can y’come around 9ish? That way y’can meet some of the guys but not have t’be around them a really long time, y’know?” He asked, taking some trousers and a sweater out of his closet, laying them on his bed.

“Yeah, sure H, I’d love that.” You smiled, walking over to give him a kiss goodbye. You bit the words “and you.” back and opted to just kiss all over his face before reaching his lips. You felt him smile into it and you did too, pulling away. “I’ll see you tonight, bye!” You waved back to him walking out of his room. “See you, love! When y’get here, just walk in!” You yelled back a “Got it!” before leaving his house.

By the time you had driven home, gotten ready, and met up with your friend Lorelei, it was around 1 p.m.. The two of you sat in a nearby coffee shop, catching up and talking about your lives, and of course the topic came up about relationships. “So,” She said your name. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Um, yeah actually, he's really sweet and we've just had our 6 month anniversary a few days ago.” You said, smiling, thinking back to the surprise dinner he had made you. Obviously the two of you hadn't gone public yet, and only your families knew, so you were hesitating on whether you should tell her his name or not when she asked.

“Edward.” You said, deciding on using his middle name. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Lorelei, but you didn’t trust her friends, or the people in this cafe who could overhear. She simply nodded in response, taking a sip of her tea before you asked her about her love life. The conversation extended from there, and you were happy she didn’t prod anymore. The two of you went to go get lunch until she had to go to a late meeting, and you went home around 4, passing the time by making dinner and reading.

Soon it was 8:45 and you decided to start driving over, there was no harm in being a bit early. By the time you got to Harry’s, it was a few minutes before 9 and you let yourself in, just like he had asked. As you shut the door and made your way to the voices in the living room you heard your own name. You should have walked in there, not stopped and listened, but who wouldn’t be curious to what Harry would say, when asked how the two of you were?

“It’s good, not what I planned on to be honest.” You heard your boyfriend say, and your brow quirked up at his response. What did he plan on, you thought. “Y’mean being in an actual relationship?” You heard a voice you didn't recognize ask.

“Yeah, I mean you all know I just wanted a good fuck,” He said, and your eyes widened. “It was obvious she liked me, was all over me, so I jus’ started fucking her, and now we had our six month anniversary a few days ago, so it wasn't how I really wanted things t’go, but she’s cool.”

Your chest clenched at his words and your bottom lip began to tremble. He used you because he could tell you were interested, then proceeded to use you, and stayed with you because why? You were a good fuck, and cool? Not wanting to be embarrassed anymore when you weren’t there to defend yourself, you walked away and left his house silently, driving yourself back home and sending him a text explaining your absence, not like he would care.

Pretty tired today, I’m just gonna stay home, but I hope u had fun with ur friends!

Almost immediately he responded which just made your heart break a little more.

:( You sure? I can come by yours instead and just sleepover?

You sighed at his words. You knew he just wanted to have sex now, his secret was out. It couldn't stop you from wondering that if you just held out for a couple weeks would he leave you? You pursed your lips at your own thoughts and shook your head.

I’m about to fall asleep rn haha, I’ll drop the shirt off tmw before work, night H.

You put your phone to the side and decided not to check it when you heard the buzz, and instead drifted off, thinking about how the relationship you built with Harry was based purely off of sex, and not a mutual like for each other. When you woke up the next morning to your alarm around 8:30 you hit snooze on your phone and your eyes came across his text to you.

Ok angel, I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams <3

As you decided not to respond and get ready, you couldn’t help but think about how annoying it was. Why was he acting so sweet when he knew he wouldn't be getting any today? Eventually you had to push that thought to the back of your head and you grabbed his shirt you had worn and folded it before stuffing it into your bag. You drove to Harry’s house which was coincidentally on the way to your office, and quickly walked up the stairs to his pink door. You knocked and almost immediately did the door open, revealing a shirtless and pantless Harry, only brief-clad and with a smile on his face.

“G’morning pet.”

You smiled at the nickname and started to dig through your purse. “Morning H.”

You held out the Rolling Stones t-shirt and when Harry didn't make a move to grab it you got confused. “You should keep it, I just wanted an excuse t’see y’today.” He admitted, his cheeks flushing. It took everything in you not to yell as you pushed the shirt in his hands, and his cheeky smile diminished a bit. “I have to go, but just take it for now, yeah? I’ll see you in a few days when you’re done recording.” You said.

“Okay love,” He said, leaning in to kiss you, which you swiftly swerved and you ended up with a kiss on the cheek instead. “I’ll see y’soon.” He said, holding the t-shirt loosely, and you could practically read his thoughts based on his face.

“I’ll see you.” You smiled, turning around and hurrying back to your car. He watched you drive away without a single glance back to him, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the mere hours of yesterday and today. Usually you wouldn't leave without a kiss, especially when it would be a few days, but you had left today with nothing, and dipped out on him last night.

He shook off his thoughts and went to continue getting ready, ignoring the way the shirt smelled just like you, now. You went to your office, and he went to the studio, texting you every break he possibly had, of things that reminded him of you, or just saying he missed you already. It wasn't out of the normal, he had been doing this for months and only now did it ignite a flame in your chest. How dare he want you for just a fuck, but continue to lead you on like this? It was torture, you were sure. You hadn't responded to any of them, unlike what you would usually do, and it was making him miss notes and be particularly antsy.

When your shift ended, and you responded with an overall “Haha, so sweet.” He had had enough. He hit all the notes and was done in just a mere 30 minutes, and the next destination was your house.

You had changed into your pajama pants and a t-shirt when a knock was heard at your door. You were confused, but opened it regardless to see Harry standing outside your door.

“Harry?” You asked, letting him in and shutting the door behind the two of you. “Is everything okay?”

He shook his head and answered with a simple “No,” before sitting down on your couch to which you did the same. “Is everything okay?” He asked you instead, green eyes meeting your shocked ones.

“Everything’s fine.” You shrugged, still confused on why he was here. “No, is everything okay with us, I mean. You’ve been ignoring me all day, and this sounds terribly desperate, but I didn't see y’last night, and y’left this morning without a kiss.” He elaborated. You truly weren’t ready to have the conversation today, and would find any way out of it. “I was working H, it wasn't on purpose.”

“It never stopped y’from replying before, but what about everything else?” He pushed.

“I was tired, I told you.”

“But I just don't understand-”

“I actually did come over last night. When you asked me to,” You interrupted him. His eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t hear you, didn’t see you either.” Was all he said. “Probably because you were too busy talking about how you got with me for just a good fuck and how you used my feelings towards you for your advantage.” You snapped, scooting further away from him on the couch. You could tell he wasn't expecting that and when he was silent you took this change to say more. “And, I knew I shouldn't have stayed and listened, but when I heard my name and someone ask how we were? God, I was expecting a different fucking answer, but I wish I didn't stay back to listen.”

“Love, I am so sorry. Y’don’t understand, it was like that at first, the first couple weeks at most, but then I got feelings for you, and I wanted more with you.” He said, his hands fumbling together.

“Certainly didn't sound like it.” You retorted.

“I promise, I promise it’s not like that.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I was-god Harry, I was actually falling for you. I was going to tell you I loved you soon, because I already knew I did a few weeks ago.” You admitted softly, the tears streaming down your face. His lips trembled as he heard your words, he couldn’t believe that he was about to loose you. he wouldn’t let it happen. “I fell for y’too. I want to be with you, I don't want anyone or anything else, please, I just want you. I love you.” He begged, moving closer to you and grabbing your hands.

“Please don’t lie.” You shook your head. “I stopped lying the moment I asked you to be my girlfriend, love. I love you, so much. I was scared, and I wasn't ready to admit it to my friends, much less myself. I wasn't ready for a relationship originally, but then I found myself in one with you, and I wouldn't want anything else.”

His words just made you cry more, and he engulfed you in a hug, his eyes watering. If it was the last thing he did with you, it would be this. “Just,” you sniffled. “Just, I’m not, I can’t have sex with you again. Not soon at least, I love you, but I need to know you aren't using me, I'm sorry.”

He hugged you tighter and shook his head. “I don’t care, I just want you, that’s it.”

And in that moment you knew that maybe things would work out. Maybe.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles boyfriend

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transsergio · 3 years

Text

Emotions That I Simply Do Not Have (Read on AO3)

Chapter 1/3 - More Like A Relapse

Penemily + Hotchreid / Mature / 1893 words

Hotch and Emily have a drunken night together that Emily wants to forget, but Hotch can't let go. She and her girlfriend Penelope make a plan to get him out of their lives.

There's a brief paragraph describing Emily's dissociation in this chapter.

This started out as a parody of H*tchniss but then I got really into it. Hotch is pretty out of character and I'm picking on him this entire fic. There is no actual Hotchn*ss involved, which is why I didn't tag the ship, and because I don't need to fight with straight people today.

Emily’s head loathes her. She’s been hungover before, obviously, but this is something different altogether – she’s half-naked and her memory has completed ghosted her. There was tequila, she guesses, maybe vodka, shots, Hotch was going to give her a ride home because there’s something dangerous about a wasted agent wandering the city at night; snippets that don’t explain much beyond the ache hammering at the center of her skull.

At least Emily knows where she is. This is her apartment, her bedroom, her matted skin and grimy oils. The sheets reek of alcohol, so maybe she spilled some, or maybe it’s been sweat from her very pores. She’s missing a bra and she forgot to close the blinds last night. Only, she never forgets. It’s muscle memory. Did she…open them at some point?

The sink is running in the kitchen. And her toaster oven is beeping. Oh my god. She brought someone home last night. Hotch never would have left her in a cab with a stranger. How could Emily have picked someone up between the curb and her front door? She was a flirty drunk, but in no way smooth.

Emily moves on a slow incline, craning her body into an upright position. She winces. Sunlight beams directly into her eyes. It’s been a minute since she remembered exactly why she kept the windows covered. She pushes the duvet aside and swings her long, bare legs to the floor. They’re not bruised (yet), so she must’ve remembered to skip the stairs and go for the elevator this time. She’s tumbled down them before. Penelope made her promise she’d wear shin guards the next time she went out, Emily remembers, laughing under her breath.

Penelope, who definitely did not go home with Emily last night. She couldn’t have. She implemented a strict curfew after spending three consecutive nights in the batcave – bed by eleven, sharp. Unless Emily made a distress call sometime in the night. Emily scrunches the sheets between her fingers. A distress call, something like, “Come help me puke into my toilet for an hour and a half,” would bring Penelope running. Well, not running, but speed-walking, half awake. And it would be too late for Penelope to get home, with no one to text that she made it safely (except everyone else in the BAU, but that wasn’t the point). The point was, it could be her in there, popping Toaster Strudel in for the both of them.

Emily wobbles to her feet and kicks her crumpled slacks from her path. Oh, there’s her bra, launched to the other side of the room. She runs her fingers through her hair and hopes she made a difference, though it’s unlikely. Feet shuffle over her wooden floors, and someone opens and shuts the fridge door. Penelope uses fridges, coincidentally. That very well might be her.

There’s a cough, a low clearing of the throat. Emily stands upright like she’s been called to duty, and palms her forehead. Her headache makes it clear it did not like that. The cough does not sound like Penelope. Fear drains the strength from Emily’s limbs. Please, dear god, tell her that’s not a man.

Emily wants to crawl back into bed and have nothing to do with whoever’s in the other room. She wants to huddle under her covers and listen until the front door opens and shuts and it’s safe to emerge. She wants to have been sober last night. Instead, her phone vibrates on her dresser. Emily hadn’t realized that when it reverberates against the wood, her cell sounds exactly like a jackhammer, but she does now. She hears the same sound echoing in her kitchen.

Emily lunges for the text, from Garcia alerting them to a case, and slams all one hundred of those tiny Blackberry buttons to make it shut up, shut up, shut up. The bedroom door swings open.

“Two murders in Kentucky, looks like,” Hotch says. What? No.

Emily rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands. They come away streaked with dried mascara flakes and last night’s eyeshadow, but Hotch is still there. He’s standing in his boxers, a white undershirt, and five o’clock stubble. He doesn’t flinch at the fact that Emily is bare-chested in a pair of black boyshorts. This is bad. This is so bad.

Hotch says softly, “Can I…” Can he what? Can he call later tonight? Can he leave a toothbrush here? Can he have a drawer for his pajamas? “Can I get my shirt, please?”

“Oh.” Emily steps aside. His blue button-down is in a wrinkled pile beside Emily’s nightstand. Should she cover herself in the meantime? Would that make it weirder? He’s already seen what he’s seen, after all. The thought makes Emily gag.

“I’m going to get ready in your bathroom,” Hotch tells her. He makes too much eye contact. “There’s toast in the kitchen for you, if you want any.”

“Great, thanks.” Emily is tightlipped and dedicated to looking anywhere but his face. That leads to his boxers, and his dick inside his boxers, and the knowledge that they clearly had sex, and Emily might need the bathroom first if she didn’t vomit everything out last night.

Hotch disappears, and so does Emily’s presence in her physical body. She autopilots herself into her clean clothes, grips her dresser and stares into the mirror above it. C’mon, Emily, come back down to Earth. She tries what her therapist taught her in high school, focusing on a texture, on the feel of the woodgrain under her hands. How could she have come so far, a continent away, and still need the same techniques for the same problems? Hotch was an exercise in self-loathing and misery. Only this time, that exercise would be staring her down for extended periods of time while they mutually hunted killers.

Hotch reenters in the same suit he wore last night. Did he seriously have to wear a suit to the team’s night out? He couldn’t loosen up enough for a polo shirt and golf pants?

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again in this capacity,” he starts. “But I had… a great time, honestly, and I’d be open to another meeting.”

Emily’s eyes are dead. “No, thanks.”

“You’ve decided already?”

“Yep. I’m good. See you on the jet.” Emily yanks the bedroom door open. His cue to leave. He takes it, if not wearing the look of a kicked puppy.

He makes it into a cab, and the cab leaves, and clears her block, and turns the corner. Emily stays for another five minutes just to be sure the car doesn’t loop back around, looking for a second chance. She washes her face clean and falls to her mattress. This will only take a second – she stabs her face into her pillow and screams. And one more time. And maybe a long one, just to be sure. Emily comes to work that day hoarse, unbathed, and willing herself into another life.

A month later, they’re gathered at Haley’s funeral. Hotch gives a beautiful speech, and Emily’s all but forgotten the number of texts she’s received since their hookup. The sheer volume of “Thinking about you.. do you like Thai food?” and simple, two-word messages like “Good work..”, alongside “Hey. Horny?” are a thing of the past, at least for today. Maybe not tomorrow. Emily doesn’t really know how grieving works. She does, however, know what it feels like to want.

She ushers Penelope into a storage closet while the rest of the team (plus Kevin) is at the funeral reception’s buffet. They’ll make up some story about going to the bathroom and try to defuse JJ later, assuring her that she wasn't left out intentionally. Right now, life is for living.

Emily’s lips move across Penelope’s jaw, her neck, her chest. She presses them to Penelope’s like she’s made of china, set on keeping Penelope’s lipstick intact. Penelope grips Emily while her own wrist is between her teeth to stifle her sound. Emily is gasping for breath when her fingers reach for the button of Penelope’s sweater. She is desperate to have her undone.

“Wait, wait,” Penelope huffs, putting an arm’s length of space between them. Her chest is heaving. “I can’t do this here, not today.”

“Today is why I want to do this,” Emily counters.

“We have time.” Penelope’s voice breaks. She fusses with her little hat and rights it atop her hair. “We have time that Haley didn’t –”

“How do we know?” Emily interrupts. “It could be me next. You’ve already been shot once before, and I just can’t… I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with you on the fringe of my life.”

Emily wipes a tear streaking down Penelope’s cheek. Before Penelope can reach for her compact, Emily passes her hers. She says, “I don’t mean we have to do anything right now in… what is ironically a closet,” Penelope laughs and dabs at her makeup, “but I want you. And seeing you with Kevin today, having to be next to you while he holds your hand? It’s maddening.”

A quiet passes. Penelope sniffles and the crowd outside makes somber conversation. Penelope whispers, “I’m scared.”

Emily closes the distance between them and cradles Penelope in her embrace. “I know; so am I. Can we be scared together?”

Penelope nods into the crook of Emily’s shoulder. They sway in the warmth of one another, in the cramped haven that is shelves of industrial cleaner and mop buckets.

“So what do we do?” Penelope asks. “Should I break up with Kevin, or tell him the truth? Neither option feels, uh, super-duper.”

Emily snorts some of the hat’s feathers from her nose. “If you want to be outed, I think telling Kevin he’s your beard is a great idea.”

“Stop. Kevin wouldn’t do that.”

“Penelope. He’s a man. He’s going to feel used, emasculated, and plenty bitter. I don’t see a reality in which he doesn’t out you.”

“I know, I know, but I don’t think Kevin’s like that. He’s sweet on me.” Penelope further buries herself in Emily. “On the off-chance that he would, though, I guess I’ll dump him.”

Emily hums in agreement. They keep themselves safe in their darkness a little longer, resistant to go out and face the mourning. Emily’s heart is busy fluttering, anyway. She and Penelope might remain a secret, but this is officially more than a hook-up. It’s all Emily could dream of when she stormed Penelope’s batcave the morning after Hotch. When she spun Penelope around in her desk chair and strung their mouths centimeters apart – a question and a dare all in one. Penelope leaned through the divide and they were kissing, slow and tender but driven by a force that urged them on. Emily had wanted Penelope for so long, but that morning, she needed her.

When they return to the team’s table, Kevin is at Penelope’s side. Emily puts her focus on Morgan, on caring about Hotch’s well-being, anything but Kevin’s soft, drooping face. It’s like his skin could slide right off at any second. No, Emily will ask what they can do, will let the team explain that their power extends to waiting Hotch out, will squeeze Penelope’s hand as they leave for their next case in Nashville.

#penemily #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #cm fic #criminal minds fanfic #cm fanfiction #mine

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max--phillips · 4 years

Note

the boys + a sleepover with pj's, a movie, and popcorn?

AHH i love this so much that I get to write the first half of it twice LMAO i somehow closed my whole browser window so it got yeeted into the abyss. ANYWAY, I’m going to interpret “sleepover” a little differently depending on the situation but yeah here we go

So, with Din, you have to sort of convince him to sit down and watch a movie with you. It probably happens after a long, difficult job, and you deserve a few days off. So, one night, trying to decide what to do to enjoy your little vacation, you ask if he likes a certain classic movie, one of those that EVERYONE has seen. He says he hasn’t seen it, so he doesn’t know. You give him one of those “How in the GALAXY have you never seen this!?” and tell him you’re watching it tonight no matter what. You sort of have to explain to him how Movie Nights(tm) work, with the pjs and the junk food, but he catches on quickly and enjoys it immensely. You cozy into bed on the razor crest with some extra blankets, in your pjs and Din out of his armor. You even catch him laughing at it a couple times, and he ABSOLUTELY cries during any emotional parts. He asks if there are any other movies he should see, and you compile a list. Movie night becomes a regular thing.

Here’s how I see this happening with Ezra. He suggests a sort of... camping date type thing. You guys go out, campfire, tent, and all, and he hangs up a sheet between a couple trees and hauls out a projector hooked up to a generator. You guys snuggle up on a blanket in front of this projection screen. He of course chooses some niche indie film (which is kinda coincidental now that I think about it LMAO). You pop popcorn over the fire and snack on it. Of course you’d love to be watching the movie, but Ezra can’t keep his hands still or to himself.

Javi scored the vhs rental for Terminator 2 and invited you over to watch it. You told him that you were going to have a full on movie night with this one; pjs, popcorn, pop, the whole thing. You showed up in your pjs (well, real pjs anyway, wearing what you normally wore to bed maybe wasn’t the brightest idea) with a box of microwave popcorn and a couple of two liters. Javi was still in his work clothes and you frowned. You convinced him to change into pajamas, really seal the deal. He returns from his bedroom in an undershirt and loose lounge pants that you can uhhhhhhhhhhhh definitely see his dick through but you pretend not to notice. “Happy now?” is all he offers, some feigned annoyance in his voice. He can’t really be that annoyed by you. You put the tape in and sit on the couch. As far away from each other as possible, of course; this is just friends watching a good movie together, and you trying to hold on to some childhood traditions in a very stressful time. You both make some comments about how fucking badass Sarah Connor is, and how good of an actor Linda Hamilton is (”She genuinely looks terrified to be seeing him again”), and slowly slowly slowly inch closer to him as the movie goes on, just little shifts, getting up to get more drinks and sitting back down a little closer. About halfway through the movie he looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. “What?” “If you want to get in here you just have to say so.” “What!?” “Jesus Christ, come here. You’ve been getting closer all night, I’m not a fucking prude, you can lay on me if you want.” And he pulls you into him, under his arm, and you’re blushing furiously because you’ve been read for filth. The movie ends, and as unromantic as watching Arnold Schwarzenegger get lowered slowly into molten metal, you were still overtaken by the urge to lean up and kiss Javier, probably just spurred on by the closeness you’ve had for the past hour and hearing his voice in his chest and how warm and comfortable he is... and before you can stop yourself, you do, and he kisses you back with a surprising fervor. “Hey, uh, what do you say we make this a sleepover too?” is all you can manage between kisses, laughing a little bit.

You and Whiskey were chatting at headquarters about your favorite movies. He mentioned his all time favorite, go-to-when-nothing-else-sounds-good is Cowboys and Aliens, which makes you laugh but you admit to him you’ve never seen it. He mocks offense, and says that that has to be rectified immediately with a good old fashioned movie night. You shrug and accept, fair enough, you’ve been over to his place a handful of times; you were good friends. You show up in your pajamas (he said good old fashioned movie night, didn’t he?) with a six pack, and he provides the popcorn, which he makes on the stove top the RIGHT way. He’s also in his pjs because he knows how this is DONE. You set up on the couch and he turns on the movie. Unfortunately for both of you, you manage to fall asleep at some point, but you are woken up by a particularly loud part in the movie and you jump. “This movie ain’t supposed to be scary, darlin’, you need to come cuddle up with me or somethin’?” he teases, and you laugh. “No, I just dozed off there, sorry,” you reply. “Though, uh... maybe it’s the two beers talking, but if you’re offering...” and he raises and arm and you cuddle up under it, watching the rest of the movie. Well. Trying to, anyway, because now you’ve given the man that you’ve had some tension growing with an excuse to touch you. And he does. And the last half of the movie is forgotten entirely.

Max invites you over to his place for the weekend to watch shitty horror movies and make fun of them. Popcorn abounds and is thrown liberally at the TV screen as he points out inaccuracies of their portrayals of vampires, and you point out logical fallacies and plot holes. You really should start an MST3K style like, podcast or some shit, you think that your commentary is hilarious.

#ok max's was kinda weak but I've talked about that sort of thing before #also yeah most of them end in y'all fuckin who cares #tori answers questions #baar-ur #hcs #star wars #the mandalorian #din #ezra #prospect #narcos #whiskey #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal

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aurorafreerose · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Late- Kacchako

Summary- Bakugo writes Uraraka a letter. She gets herself into more than what she can handle.

Headcanons- Bakugou’s sweat (nitroglycerin) smells like caramel + he calls her angel face (manga canon) instead of round face.

Writer’s note- I wrote this chapter listening to Borderline (single ver.) by Tame Impala, We Got Love by Teyana Taylor, and Flashing Lights by Kanye West, and encourage you to do the same!

Words: 2014

Read on Ao3!

"To: Angel Face," Ochaco started to read out loud.

Wait a minute.

"'Angel Face' ?!" sputtered Uraraka in utter bewilderment.

"Doesn't Bakugo-kun call you that, kero?" asked Tsuyu, her straight black hair tucked into a messy ponytail. "Yes, but I didn't expect him to address me like that in my note... and he made it so obvious, too..." Uraraka trailed off.

Today's assignment in class had been to write each other anonymous notes critiquing their battle abilities, with the intent of gathering constructive criticism from their peers for the next week's training sessions in USJ. It forced them all to analyze their classmates' strengths and weakness, and more importantly, gave them rudimentary, short-term goals to focus on. They were supposed to be anonymous, because- how did Aizawa-sensei put it- "I don't want you spending your time worrying about the implications of your classmates' notes. You'll be assigned a random pair, because I don't trust you to pick. The point of this exercise is to gather feedback, not a free-for-all in which you trade personal opinions with each other. That's why you aren't going to put your names on there, and don't even think about writing something unrelated. I assure you that if anyone does- he'd narrowed his eyes at them- they'll have to deal with me personally."

Ochaco shuddered as she recalled Aizawa-sensei's frightening aura emanating the room earlier that day.

"And don't even think about writing something rude or thoughtless- I'm looking at you, Bakugo and Kirishima-" she remembered Bakugo had replied with a dismissive "Tch" and reclined his head back as if he didn't have a care in the world. He'd kicked his legs up on the seat in front of him- which coincidentally, belonged to a highly affronted Iida, which had made Aizawa-sensei so irritated that he gave Bakugo his signature death stare for thirty seconds before Bakugo finally gave up on their standoff and sat down like a normal person. A small smile graced her lips as she sat remembering the day's events.

She realized that Bakugo was probably the only person who was confident enough - or maybe careless - to pay no heed to their teacher's warning. But why would he go through the trouble of risking house arrest just to address her-

"Keep reading, Uraraka!" prompted Mina, leaning her head forward.

"Oh- right! Sorry, girls!" Uraraka replied bashfully, unconsciously raising her four fingers to her neck as she realized she'd momentarily gotten lost in her thoughts. The chattery group were all seated in the common area, with Tsuyu on her left, Hagakure and Momo on the couch directly opposite theirs, Jirou in an armchair diagonal from her right, and Mina resting (somewhat) beside her. They'd decided to debrief the notes with each other, because really, who wouldn't want to find out who said what to who? She resumed reading the note, being careful to keep her pinkies in the air.

"Your quirk is strong."

"Ehhh? Bakugo-kun complimented you?" remarked Mina in awe. She had flopped backwards onto the couch, her head now upside-down and parallel to Ochaco's. "He almost never compliments anyone, except for maybe All Might... but I don't really know if that counts..." She lifted her arms absentmindedly and outstretched her palms, wiggling each of her fingers.

"He might have felt obligated to, since it was an official assignment and all," Momo suggested thoughtfully, nestling her head in between her thumb and her index finger.

"Well, he never complimented me, he just criticized me! You all just heard it for yourselves!" Jiro chimed in angrily, brandishing her letter around, which she'd read right before Ochaco's. "And he wasn't nice about it either, but I guess that's typical of him," she admitted.

"Go on, Uraraka-chan!" Hagakure leaned forward- you could tell because her pajama shirt shifted directions- and Ochaco assumed she had an encouraging expression on her face, although you could never be sure with her.

"In order to make the best use of it, you should continue to focus on learning martial arts."

"What does he mean by that?" Ochaco looked upward, her face set in a thoughtful expression as she let her thoughts roll off of the tip of her tongue.

"It means... you should continue to focus on learning martial arts?" Mina's head was now resting on the floor as she continued her descent down the couch, her still upside-down body making its way as her lopsided thighs, each going in a different direction, took the place of where her head had previously been next to Ochaco's head.

"I think Bakugo-kun means you should improve your fighting form. He was probably thinking about the sports festival," suggested Tsuyu, bringing her lips down to the milkshake resting comfortably in between her hands. Everyone seemed to approve of this interpretation, and they all went silent in anticipation of Uraraka's next words.

"However, there are times when you have to appear relaxed, even if it's just an act."

"That's it?" asked Momo curiously. "I thought he would have had more to say, even if they were supposed to be short."

"Yao-momo, why would he have made it longer?" said Ochaco.

"I don't know, but he went through an awful lot of trouble just to make sure you knew it was him who had written," Momo remarked.

"All right, we've spent way too much time on this note! My turn!" exclaimed Mina excitedly, who was now lying on the floor smiling and pulling out her own set of yellow paper. "See what this one says... I think it might have been Mineta, because look, it's kind of pervy, see..."

"Ahhhh..."

As the girls gathered around Mina, Ochaco wasn't really paying attention to whatever weird note they were hotly discussing. Bakugo's note was still on her mind.

There was no reason for him to reveal himself to her, but he did it anyways. Why would he do that? He didn't gain anything from it. Maybe he was bored, and decided to trip her up?

And telling her to improve her martial arts skills? That was way too vague! What was she supposed to think of that? Was he just trying to rub her loss in even more?

No, he wasn't that kind of person. As scarily competitive as he was, Bakugo was never cruel to her.

Did he want a rematch? Maybe that is what he wants. It was almost too perfect. They were training next week, and tomorrow was their free day, so if that's what he wants, it's what he'll get. I'll ask him. Even after their match at the sports festival, she wanted to improve so badly. And of course, the best person to ask was the person who gave her the advice in the first place, right?

The next time I see him, I'll ask him, she decided.

About ten minutes later, speak of the devil! Bakugo walked into the common area, wearing a black tank top that (Ochaco hated to admit it, but it was true) accentuated his already well-defined muscles nicely and blue athletic pants, a towel wrapped around his neck. Fresh from the gym his fluffy blonde hair, unruly as it always was, poked out in a multitude of different directions.

His expression was blank. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He stared straight ahead at the floor, not bothering to glance her way. Her heart almost felt like it was sinking, but then she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She lifted herself off of the couch, gave a quick "I'll be back" to the girls, who were still avidly discussing whether or not Mineta wrote the note, and began walking Bakugo's way.

When he saw her coming, he paused the return journey to his room and sent a slight nod of acknowledgement her way. She stopped walking when she was directly in front of him. She didn't remember him being this tall, but he'd grown over time to the point where he ended up dwarfing her tinier-by-comparison frame, making her seem miniscule. She caught a whiff of burnt caramel emanating from him, but quickly forgot about it as his red eyes narrowed at her.

"What do you want, Angel Face?"

He sounded impatient. She noticed his voice seemed softer compared to his usual growl, but it was clear he wasn't paying her much attention.

"I was thinking about the sports festival-"

"And?" He cut her off with no regard to what she was saying, overly eager to finish their conversation. It was obvious how much he wanted to head upstairs, even though it was only 8:00.

Ochaco rolled her eyes in annoyance. Could he please, at least give her the luxury of finishing her sentences?

Creasing her brow, she asked, "Do you want to spar together tomorrow? It's a free day, after all."

He raised his eyebrows at her, finally showing some engagement with what she was asking him.

Crossing his arms, he asked, "What's in it for me?"

"Huh?"

"What do I get out of it? I'm not wasting my free time fucking you up for no good reason."

Ochaco couldn't stop the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"Practice. Experience. Well, I wanted to continue focusing on learning martial arts, and anyways, I'm curious to see how our quirks interact more." She hated herself for referencing his note, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Bakugo made direct eye contact with her. It was as if a silent agreement had been made between them as his red pupils locked on target to a pair of brown ones. The intensity behind his eyes flickered, almost scaring her with his ferocity; it was off-putting, the way he radiated sheer dominance, utter power, in all aspects, and it was reaching at her, occupying all of her thoughts. It had only been a few seconds, but he'd still managed to effect her so dramatically in such a short span of time.

What was he doing to her?

"...Fine," he spat, now irritated. He really did hate being held to his word. "But let's make this clear. We're not fuckin' hanging out or whatever the fuck you and shitty Deku do, he snarled, placing a disgusted emphasis on his name. "We're just practicing."

Bakugo clearly wasn't expecting her to take his advice this particular way.

"Right. Just practicing. Got it."

Ochaco didn't understand this new, burgeoning feeling that was beginning to spread throughout her chest. It began to permeate her lungs, her breathing becoming sharp and more ragged; she was taking in much more air than she was before. For some strange reason, her heart was beating faster than it was a minute ago, and adrenaline was pumping through her veins, making her awfully tense...

Why was Bakugo Katsuki making her nervous?

"Just meet me right here at 10:45, sharp. Don't be late, cheeks."

Before she had time to respond, he was turning on his heel and walking away, leaving her free to return to her still-gossiping friends.

It was just nerves, she reassured herself on the way back. Anyone would be nervous talking to Bakugo. Anyone. He was notorious for evoking similar reactions. You couldn't blame her for her reaction. Just nerves, she repeated, ignoring the small handful of doubts in the back of her head.

Uraraka couldn't sleep. Her arms splayed across both bedsides, her heavy-lidded eyes were glassily staring at the ceiling as she busied herself with counting sheep. Slowly but surely, the sheep's coats began to get increasingly blonder and fluffier, until she was counting a horde of angry little Baku-sheep.

"Pffft!"

She didn't recall it at first, but now that she thought about the last time she saw him, she swore she remembered the tiniest blush on Bakugo's face right before he turned away.

Bakugo Katsuki, the angriest, loudest, most volatile person she knew? But why?

She realized what Bakugo was probably thinking to himself as he was writing her that note.

"However, there are times when you have to appear tough, even if it's just an act."

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Bad Mood (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 8.- Oral Sex

Title: Bad Mood Category: M/M Summary: Trixie is about to find out the curative properties of Katya’s oral skills. Notes: On the original challenge there were two number 45 entries, I almost did both, but finally decided to pick this one. Please remember that this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Once again, female pronouns are used when they are in drag. Written: May 16th, 2020 - July 16th, 2020 (Honestly, it took me this long to finish this because stan twitter, and its cancel culture, made it hard for me to enjoy writing Trixya. Someone said it was easier if we thought of them as fictional characters within the fanfiction side of the fandom, and that made it so much easier. So now I’m back, back, back again!)

Bad Mood

I don’t think I have ever been happier in my entire life.

This is it. This is what I was born to do. This is me. This is who I am, Trixie Mattel.

Standing on the center of the stage, I line up with my sisters. We hold hands, lift them up in the air and take a bow. The crowd goes wild, the gays go insane. The yelling, the screaming, the clapping, the loud music, there’s nothing in the world that I like to hear more than that. The sweating, the foot pain, the tight clothes, those are things I could very easily live without; but it’s only a small price to pay.

As soon as we are allowed to leave the stage, I take my wig off. By the time I reach the last step of the ladder, my dress is already unzipped. I stumble with my own feet as I try to walk and undress at the same time. My body bounces between the wall and my friends. It’s fun and it makes me laugh hysterically.

We reach the dressing rooms, and I open mine with a loud scream, a scream filled with joy, laughter and pure happiness. Adrenaline runs through by veins, making my whole body pulse to the rhythm of my bloodstream.

Long fingers wrap around my arms and I recognize the owner right away.

“Bitch!” Maybe it’s out of pure excitement, maybe it’s because her ears are still buzzing, but Katya stops me and yells right to my face. “That was our best show yet!” She screams through bright red lips. Even when I’m halfway through the process of de-dragging, she’s still living her whole woman fantasy, and I’m sure we will leave this venue with her still in full drag.

Both her hands land on my shoulders and she shakes me, trying to physically make me understand her words. I let her. My body goes limp and I allow her to treat me like a rag doll. She laughs, I laugh. We look into each other’s eyes and the laughter turns louder. I can’t stop myself, my arms go around her and I pull her into a tight hug. This is so unlike me. If there’s anything that I can’t stand is physical contact like this and, here I am, breaking all my rules and initiating a hug.

Katya’s energy is contagious, I can feel my inner batteries recharging the longer I hug her. Unfortunately, our moment is interrupted when security knocks on the open door, saying that someone is looking for her. The sparkle in her eye is something that I’m familiar with, and the side smile taking over her entire face is the last confirmation I need.

The bitch is about to have sex.

I see her padded ass swaying as she exits the room, leaving me alone in the poorly lit room. It’s cozy, it’s cute. I like it. I’m even humming to myself as I take my makeup off.

Just when I’m about done, I see people rushing past my door. I go out, trying to see what’s the commotion about, and I crash into Alaska in the hallway. She is really in a hurry.

“Trix, come on!” She says pulling me by the arm.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Remember those guys that met us at the airport?” I nod as she starts walking. “Well, Katya brough one backstage. They are doing it in her dressing room.” A giggle interrupts her every other word, because this whole thing sounds ridiculous. We all know Katya sleeps with fans, why is it such big news now?

We reach a bunch of people, all pushing each other and giggling like little kids. The door is opened just a crack, and they are all trying to look through it.

“Move, move,” Alaska makes way for us to reach the front and my heart stops.

Katya looks beautiful, so beautiful. That’s the first thing that registers in my brain. Her blonde hair falls like a courtine covering part of her face, making everything feel almost mysterious. She’s on her knees, her shoes thrown to the side. The naked guy she’s sucking is the last thing I notice. All I can think of is how sexy she looks. She’s all woman, pleasuring a guy who seems to be fully enjoying it. He is grunting, and breathing heavily. His fingers tangle in her wig and she moans loudly with him deep in her mouth.

This is… wrong. We shouldn’t be watching. We shouldn’t be here. We should be getting ready to go. I look around and see that most of the queens are, either still in drag, or wearing their normal clothes with a full face on. We are never leaving this place. I just wanna go.

“You guys, we should get going,” I try to call their attention, remind them we have a bus to catch. All I get is booing as they shove me away from the door.

Fine.

I don’t even want to see that anyway. They are clearly showing off. There’s no way they don’t know people are watching, they are putting on a show. Nobody makes those noises. Katya can’t possibly be that good, can she?

It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I just wanna leave here. This dressing room area is hot and dirty, and I want out. My own room is tiny, and overheated. There are no fans or ventilation. The more I look around the place, the less I like it. The chairs have stains and so does the carpet. Gross. The room is dirty, who knows how many people have been here before me. And it’s messy, my stuff is thrown everywhere, picking it all up is gonna take forever.

Before anything, I need to get rid of the rest of these uncomfortable clothes. Being in drag is the absolute worst. Everything hurt. Everything smells. It’s disgusting. Moments like this make me wonder why I even picked this line of work. As I take everything off and throw it in its place, I remember how easy my life used to be working at the MAC counter. Simpler times.

It takes me a few minutes, but I finally get everything in the suitcases and ready to go. My face is still stained but it will go away once I shower. I walk out with my backpack on, ready to leave. Since, clearly, nobody is going to listen to me, I grab all my stuff and wheel the suitcases to the bus. The driver seems surprised to see me here by myself, still he rushes to my side and helps me with my stuff. He doesn’t disturb me as I sit alone, looking at my phone. He lets me be for as long as it takes for everybody else to get here. It feels as if days have passed before the small space is filled with loud laughter, yelling and screaming. Just like I predicted, Katya still looks… like Katya. Her lipstick is perfectly applied on her lips, and I have a million questions running through my head. Did she reapply it? What brand is it? Did it endure the sucking of a dick?

“But you ate his whole ass!” Someone shouts. I don’t register who when my full attention is focused on her flawless lips.

She shrugs a shoulder. “You know I love eating a good ass,” she says so casually, so easily; but then she can’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing. Her cool exterior cracks to let her goofy self be seen.

They are still talking about that guy’s ass when she sits next to me. I don’t wanna deal with that right now, so I close my eyes. Nobody notices I’m pretending and nobody bothers me. It’s hard to sleep on a bus, or a plane, or a hotel. Anywhere that is not my own bed, basically. My back hurts all the time, and the corsets I need for my different outfits just make everything worse. Putting and taking off my makeup, without giving my skin a day to breathe, is making me break out. There’s nothing I hate more than that, than this whole thing. Days and nights have no difference when all you see is the inside of a bus, crowded with the same faces, as it takes you from venue to venue, from airports to the next crappy hotel.

And that’s how the next week passes.

After several cities without a day off, I just feel tired, more than usual. My mood just keeps getting worse the more time I spend on this suspension of reality.

Honestly, I don’t even know where we are right now. All I know is that we have a full day here; then we have to catch a plane and start the Asian leg of the tour. I’m just glad that we get to rest. That’s the reason why I go straight to my hotel room as soon as the show is over.

The shower head has horrible pressure so I take as little time in there as possible, just enough to wash all the sweat away and get rid of the traces of makeup. When I walk out of the bathroom, wearing a pajama set that hasn’t seen a washing machine in weeks, I’m shocked to see Katya sitting on the bed.

“Geez, Brian, don’t they know about knocking in Boston?” I roll my eyes as I walk past her. Her. The whole woman that is Katya Zamolodchikova. The use of her actual name, of the man that lives underneath all the layers of hair and makeup, slips out in pure annoyance.

“Okay, enough.” She stands up, anger is visible in her features.

She kicks her heels off and her shoulders square up. Is she going to hit me? This wouldn’t be the first time a woman kicks my ass. I have never been punched by a drag queen before, though.

“Whip it out,” she orders, a long red nail points in the direction of my pants.

“What?” I ask, confused.

Her shoulders drop, and an exasperated sigh leaves her lips. “Take it out. You have been insufferable since you saw me sucking that guy’s dick, whip it out so I can suck yours.”

Out of instinct, my hands go down to cover my crotch. “Wha- No! You are insane.”

“Trix, okay, listen. Everybody has commented how you have been impossible to be around. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but it is the truth, Mary. Now, they don’t know what caused it, but I know you and, bitch, you gotta get a grip!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My hand waves in front of her, dismissing her whole speech.

I try to walk away, put some distance between us.

“You are jealous.” Just like that, she stops me. Not physically, she’s still standing on the other end of the bed, but her words stop me cold.

“You need to leave.” The sentence, laced with anger, escapes me before I can think.

She walks to me, slowly, padded hips swaying with each step. She throws her synthetic hair back in one swift motion. I’m frozen in place, hypnotized by the femenine moves.

Her hand goes up to my chest, she doesn’t do anything, just rests her hand against my racing heart.

“Let me do it,” she whispers. Her face is so close to mine that I can detect the smell of coffee on her breath. “I want to do it. Do you want me to do it?” Her hand slides down, gently, caressing. “Do you want me to do it?” she repeats, in a serious tone this time. She’s actually asking for my permission.

I look deep into her eyes, those endless pools of emotion, framed by fake lashes. “You are a woman,” I blurt out.

A side smile takes over her face. “You have never been with a girl before?” She’s back to playful, a seductress that knows exactly how to play the game.

“I’m gay.” My mouth expels the words without asking my brain’s approval.

This time she laughs, loudly. “Bitch, I know that. And I also know that you need this. We need to do this so the world can have peace again. Please, God.” She makes a pause. Her free hand reaches the hem of her dress. “If you need a reminder of what I really am, I can show you my dick too.”

Once again, faster than my thoughts, my body reacts. I take hold of her wrist and stop her. “No. Don’t. I want Katya. I want Katya to do it.”

She doesn’t need an explanation, she knows exactly what I need, what I’m asking for. She doesn’t have to be told twice. This is the green light she was waiting for. We are doing this. Finally. No matter how hard I’ve tried to deny it. It doesn’t matter for how long I’ve tried to push the fantasy at the very back of my mind; it has always been exactly that, a fantasy. I have dreamed and daydreamed about being with her for a long time. At first it was about him, about Brian. The idea of being with someone so experienced always made me curious. Katya is so sexy, so sensual, that adding her to the mix just made sense.

Her lips land on the corner of my mouth, it’s quick and tender. My hand immediately goes up, to touch the spot. She’s by now kissing my chin, then my neck. The butterfly kisses continue as she makes her way down. No traces of lipstick are left behind. I seriously need to at least know the brand she’s using, it really is not coming off at all.

My thoughts are brought to a halt when her mouth reaches the waistband of my pants. She looks up, dark eyes piercing mine. She’s asking one more time if this is okay, and I can’t do anything but nod.

What happens after that is a blur. I feel the cool air hitting my legs, then I lift one foot at the time under her command as she removes my pants. The blonde wig gets closer and closer to my crotch. I can feel Katya’s hand on me and my eyes roll back. She takes me into her mouth. Her lips are soft, softer than I remember them. They feel so good around me. My head snaps back when I feel them on my pelvis. Like, even when I don’t like talking about it, I know I’m big, and she just took me all in.

My eyes grow wide, my mouth opens and an inhuman sound comes out from the back of my throat. I look down, my face most likely contorted in shock. The complete opposite to hers. She wiggles her eyebrows with her lips around my dick. The bitch knows what she’s doing, she knows her ability is impressive and will brag about it, even if it’s just through her stare. And I’m about to get the whole experience.

Katya’s moves are easy at first. She takes me in and out of her mouth at a slow pace. Her hand holds me by the base as she relaxes her throat and pushes me all the way in. She sucks me hard, before letting me go with a heavy exhale. Her tongue goes around the head a few times, then she’s licking up and down my length. And I’m feeling all of this since my eyes seem unable to remain open. But I want to see her. I want to get the full picture, a picture that will replace the mental images of her I use to jerk off to.

One of her hands goes between my thighs, opening them a bit wider. Next thing I feel is her head moving between my legs, licking my asshole. She releases me for just a second and, just like that, she’s behind me. Her palms land on each of my buttcheeks. “Oh, God,” she sighs against my skin. “I love to eat a clean ass.” I feel her hot breath first, and her tongue second. My senses are overloaded, making me feel everything at once. Her lips, her tongue, her hot mouth on my ass; the blonde hair tickling my legs, her hand still pumping me. It’s all too much.

It takes only a few seconds before I can’t take it anymore. My knees give out and I feel myself falling forward.

“Woah, there,” she lets out as she catches me. Her hands find my stomach as Katya pushes me back, preventing me from falling but, at the same time, pressing her face against my butt.

Without giving me a moment to recollect myself, she’s already back at eating my ass. “Wa-wait.” I try to stop her, but talking and breathing and feeling at the same time seems impossible. “I need to - just… give me a second.” With shaky legs I walk to an armchair and, more than sitting down, I drop myself on the cushion with a heavy sigh.

In the background, I can hear her laughing and the rustling of fabric as she stands up. “That good, huh?”

Mumbling is all I can do to answer her rhetorical question. Because she’s right, she is simply that good. Only a few minutes with her and I’m already at her mercy. I can’t even see straight, the whole room is spinning. I throw my head back as I feel my chest raising and falling. With one arm over my eyes, I try to calm my breathing unsuccessfully. Then I feel her again, her hands caress my thighs and there’s nothing I can do but grunt.

“Ready to finish what we started?”

Every cell on my body comes together to give me the strength that I need. I look down at her and nod. She’s biting her lower lip, trying to suppress a smile. Her lips are stained with red, the lipstick finally smudged. Surprisingly, it only makes her look even sexier.

She wiggles her eyebrows at me as she moves down, taking my entire length into her mouth. Her mouth is wet, and warm, and it feels oh, so good. I see the blonde wig bobbing up and down as she sucks me off. It’s time to turn one of my fantasies into a reality. My fingers run through her hair, luckily, she remembered to glue the wig this time. That’s the reason why I can actually take a hold of her hair and guide her to the pace that I want. With my fingers tangled in her golden locks, I pull and push her head as I please. She moans around me, enjoying how I’m taking control. The speed suddenly increases, as well as the sounds coming from her.

Katya takes me all in, then releases me, just long enough for her to curse out loud, before sucking me back in. Both of my hands are pushing her down by this point. Her eyes go up to look at me while she still has my entire dick in her mouth. Her eyelashes flutter as she lets me go. Then she smiles as she goes down on me again. This fucking bitch smiles! And that is it for me. My eyes roll back and my mouth falls open. There’s a hot wave taking over me as I cum long and hard.

I’m almost spasming, and she doesn’t even flinch. She drinks me all in, then licks me clean of any remaining.

“Welp,” she says getting up. The back of her hand cleans her own mouth, leaving a harsh trace of red across her cheek. “Now that I have sucked the bad mood out of you, the world can have some peace.” She laughs at her own words, and I chuckle right along with her.

“You know?” I get up with a smile on my face, an actual smile. “I had no idea I needed this. Thank you.” I find my pants and put them on, still feeling like I’m floating on air.

She shrugs a shoulder, proud of herself. “I may not have many talents, but I do know how to suck a dick.”

“And eat ass!” I add after her.

She laughs loudly, a hand gripping my arm as she does.

“No, really,” I assure her, stepping right into her space. “That was… amazing. Bad mood who? What? I don’t know her.”

Her laughter fills the air around us. “Not a problem.”

We share a smile, a knowing smile, a bond was just created. I pull her to me. I’m not going to thank her. A hug will have to do. My body feels so light, not a single drop of tension or stress left. I inhale deeply, she smells like sweat, and sex, and… Katya. It’s hot.

“Wanna stay and watch like a movie or something?” I ask, still smiling. “Maybe I could even return the favor.” The suggestion comes out casually. Deep down, though, I’m dying to experience more of her.

She waves a hand in front of my face. “Nah, no need. I actually have a trick coming over, but thanks! Maybe some other time.” She walks around and finds her shoes, putting them under her arm before she walks to me again. “Glad you feel better,” she says before placing a soft kiss on my cheek.

I watch her walk to the door, open it and then disappear behind her, leaving me alone in my hotel room. Wait, was the room always this ugly?

Ugh! I hate it here.

-End Notes-

Massive shout out to the authors on the AQ discord server, who allowed me to pick their brains and annoy the heck out of them so this story could come to life. Thank you so much for reading! See you again soon. -Monkey.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #smut #canon compliant #of lovers #dendenmonmon

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marvel-medigeek-fics · 4 years

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ao3 link

For Maddie, work was a welcome distraction from the hovering of her brother and her boyfriend. Josh’s looks bordered on slight worry, while Buck and Chimney stopped just short of hellicopter parents. She moved the wrong way and their mother hen instincts exploded. Frankly, it was exhausting.

But tonight Maddie was due for a surprise. When she set her things on the counter in Chimneys apartment, Albert was waiting for her. He popped up from the couch like a spring loaded toy, and grinned in a way that was almost suspicious.

“Chimney has a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” Albert hopped from foot to foot in anticipation, looking at the door excitedly. A few seconds later, Chimney came out of the room dressed to the nines. Maddie’s lip curled up when she saw him.

“You look handsome.” Maddie said, showing her satisfaction by kissing him. Albert turned around to avoid the show, his grin never leaving his face.

When they finally stopped, Chimney whisked Maddie into the room. Laying on the bed was the green dress she had worn when she met the Lee’s. It was the dress that had made Chimney realize he loved her and he wanted her to wear it on this night.

Once she had put it on and come out looking flawless, as always, Chimney took her hand and led her to the beginning of what would hopefully be the best night of both of their lives.

Chimney had been planning this night for weeks, with a lot of help from Bobby, and a lot of pep talks from Hen. Eddie had pulled the strings for the reservation, and everyone had kept Buck completely in the dark about any of the details. He knew Chimney was proposing, because Buck had picked the ring and given his blessing. He just didn’t know when, where or how, Chimney would be proposing.

Chimney couldn’t keep his eyes off of Maddie while he drove to the restaurant. Twice, Maddie course corrected the wheel to keep them from causing a crash. Chimney refused to tell her where they were going, until he pulled up outside.

“What should’ve been our first date.” He said, after parking and giving Maddie a kiss. How do people have self control when their women looked this good? Of course, no one was a pretty as Maddie in Chimneys eyes.

The two of them walked hand in hand to the door, their steps syncing. That is until, the screeching of brakes grabbed their attentions and a scream pulled them into an emergency.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Maddie said to the woman laying on the ground.

“Yeah. I’m Darcy.” The woman said. Her date was directing the car that almost hit her, before he grabbed her hand and relayed what happened.

“My ankle gave out. I shouldn’t have worn heels.” Darcy said, sitting up and wiggling her toes. “I’m fine, Brad.” She accepted the hands of Chimney and Brad, who helped her to standing. Her ankle didn’t look particularly bad, but both Maddie and Chimney advises the couple to forgo their plans to go to the hospital.

They were about to go inside when they heard another scream. Neither of them could ignore it as it continued. “Never a dull moment.” Maddie teased, searching for the source of the screams.

Coincidentally, the screams came from the car that almost ran Darcy over. “Help!!! I think I’m in labor.”

Maddie and Chimney exchanged a look. “I’m chimney and that’s Maddie. How far along are you?”

“32 weeks.”

“Is there anyone you can call to take you to the hospital?” Maddie asked, letting the woman squeeze her hand.

“I’m supposed to be getting dinner with my sister for her birthday. She’s going to be so pissed I’m late.”

“What’s her name?” Chimney and Maddie had the same thought, and as soon as the question was answered, he ran inside to find the sister, Elizabeth.

Maddie stayed with Fiona, who had told Maddie her name after answering Chimneys question. By the time Chimney came back with Elizabeth, Maddie had realized their wasn’t time to go to the hospital. This baby was going to be born in a restaurant parking lot.

“I guess our real first date will have to wait.” Maddie looked up at Chimney, and into his eyes, his expression a mix between pride and sadness. But they both knew that helping this woman was more important than any date.

Less than 30 minutes later, there was a new baby in the world, and a very thankful family. There was also a rescheduled reservation, and Maddie and Chimney eating McDonalds fries in the hospital parking lot.

“I love you. And I love you too.” Chimney said to two of his favorite people in the world. Maddie kissed his forehead and covered his hand with hers. Little miss or mister kicked in reply, causing both Maddie and Chimney to grin, and kiss, the salt of the fries the only thing they tasted.

When they pulled apart, smiles dancing on both their lips, Chimney was holding a box. He snapped it open, causing Maddie to gasp.

“I know you public proposals make you squirm, so I hope this is private enough. I love you, Madeline. You give me all the joy I could ever hold, and you’re the love of my life. You’re the only girl for me. I want you, and only you. So, will you marry me?”

Maddie rushed forward to kiss him, skimming his jawline with her hand lightly. Chimney cupped her cheek as he pulled back. “Is that a yes?”

“I’ve never been happier to say yes to something.”

—

“So that’s the story of how Maddie and Chimney got engaged.” Josh said, sipping his coffee and looking at Maddie with the level of happiness reserved for his best friend.

“Definitely not how Chimney planned it.” Maddie said, laughing as she remembered Chimney telling her how he planned to propose: at the top of the stairs when they both were in their pajamas. Of course, Bobby and Athena had convinced him to at least wear some pants. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

In many ways, the proposal was exactly like their relationship: never a dull moment, and at every important moment, there happened to be an emergency. Oh, the stories they’d be telling their children.

#madney #911 #911 fics #911 fanfiction #fanfiction #9-1-1 #911 fox #maddie x chimney #chimney x maddie #proposal

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addictofsupernatural · 5 years

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The Southsider (pt. 4)

Sweet Pea x reader

Chapter Summary: Now that an old secret is out, y/n's life takes some emotional turns in different ways, but Sweet Pea is there for her every step of the way.

Word Count: 1966

Chapter 1 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 5

You stared blankly at the jacket, before trying to give it back to FP. "I don't know what you're talking about. My mom wasn't in the Serpents."

FP didn't grab the jacket. "She was, kid. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No she wasn't. She couldn't have been." You felt your anger rise.

"Why is that?" Jughead asked. He sounded slightly offended, but you didn't care at this point.

"Because when we were getting beaten and bruised up, where the hell were the Serpents, hm? I didn't see them, or anyone, lift a finger for us. Isn't it one of your laws to protect one of your own? Clearly that can't be true because, guess what, she's dead." You were tearing up, your voice cracking. You hated people watching you cry, but today had been too emotional for you. You couldn't help it.

"She didn't tell us anything. She made it seem like nothing was wrong. Whenever we'd ask about you, she just said you were shy. She was always smiling we didn't think..." FP trailed off, tears in his eyes.

If you weren't so confused with your feelings, you would be comforting him right now. But you were, and so you didn't hold back what you wanted to say.

"Four years, FP. You kept this from me for four years. All this time I thought I had no one except you and Jughead, but even then I didn't want to be a burden. I could have had a family to go to, but you kept this from me. You took away an option that my mom could have wanted for me-"

"You don't think I know that?!" FP yelled. You flinched, backing up. You backed up into Sweet Pea, tears flowing down your cheeks. Sweet Pea unconsciously grabbed onto you. FP calmed down, instantly regretting yelling at you. That's something your dad must have done a lot. "Kid, I'm sorry-"

You slipped out of Sweet Pea's arms and opened the trailer, not looking back as you began to walk away. Sweet Pea bolted after you. "Y/n wait!"

You turned around, tears flowing down your face. He grabbed you and held you into a tight embrace. This caused you to just let go. You clung to him, letting all your tears out. He put his nose in your hair, kissing the top of your head.

When you calmed down you looked up at him. He wiped a tear from your eye. "Why are you still here with me?" You said in a hoarse whisper. "You see how broken I am, so why do you stay?"

"You're not broken. I don't care what you say about yourself. I like the way you can make me laugh, and the way you're so nice to everyone, and I like the way you get back up after being hit with something. You see something in me that I can't even see, and I do the same for you." He grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a kiss.

You then rest your head on his shoulder. "It's starting to get dark. You want me to take you home?"

"Sure." You said quietly.

"Good. I kinda like it when you hold onto me." He smirked, causing you to smile. You two drove to your house, both seeing the paper that was taped to your door.

You both walked up and saw that someone had written Southside Skank on it. It was coincidentally in Reggie font as well. You sighed. "On second thought, maybe you should stay the night at my place. I don't like you being here alone tonight."

And with that you packed your toothbrush and a pair of clothes with you, riding back to Sweet Pea's trailer. When you got there you both sat down on the couch and Sweet Pea started asked you about your likes and dislikes, wanting to get to know you better. Once you answered a question, you asked one right back to find out more about him.

"It's getting kind of late, we should go to bed." Sweet Pea suggested.

"Sure." You looked into your bag, and wanted to slap yourself. "Dammit."

"What's up?"

"I forgot to bring something to wear to sleep."

"Just wear some of my clothes. It'll be hot." He smirked. There was a knock at the door.

"I'll go find something to wear." You said, after seeing his worried expression. He didn't want any more drama to happen to you today.

He opened the door. It was Jughead. "Look man-"

"I know she probably doesn't want to see me. I just want you to give these to her." He gave him the serpent jacket, the letter, and the camera. "I might have borrowed the camera for a bit." He said quietly.

He took all the stuff, not knowing what to say. "Could you tell her that I'm sorry, and that, uh, she does have a family?" Sweet Pea nodded in response.

He closed the door. You came out of the bedroom in just a big t-shirt, long enough to be just above your knees. He stared at you in awe. You were so beautiful to him. "Pea." You said sweetly.

"Yeah?"

"Eyes up here please. This is already embarrassing enough."

"Sorry." He gave you a shit eater smile. "You look pretty. Who knew you'd look so cute in my clothes?"

"Ha ha." You giggled. "Who was at the door?"

"Uh," he looked at you, unsure on what to say. You smiled and nodded, reassuring him that you'll be okay. "It was Jughead. He wanted to say that he was sorry and that you have family. He also brought some stuff."

You nodded and walked over to the table. "He took my camera?" You opened the camera, looking at the pictures in it. They were of you and your friends, including FP and Pop.

"Is it important to you?" He asked, wrapping his arms around behind you.

"Yeah. My mom gave it to me." You went to the very first picture. It was of a girl with a woman. They were both smiling. "That's me and her."

"Am I important to you?" He asked quietly against your neck.

"Mhmm." You smiled.

He then took the camera. "Then I think I should be in here." He turned the camera around kissing you on the cheek. You giggled. He then checked to see how the picture turned out. "You look good."

"You look better." You gently say. He gave you a peck on the cheek and went to change into his pajamas. He came out in pajama pants and a plain grey t-shirt, carrying a pillow and a blanket. He set the pillow down and laid down. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to bed?" You didn't want him to be uncomfortable because of you.

"What? No, c'mon." You took his hand, pulling him up. You lead him to the bedroom. "Lay down." He complied, intrigued. You got under the covers, facing the other way. "Good night."

He stared at you for a moment. "Night." He mumbled. You were so adorable to him, he couldn't help but stare at you.

His mind then began to wander to that note. He knew he shouldn't be nosey, but he couldn't help himself. After a while he waited until he knew you were asleep, then slipped out of the bed and went to the table in the kitchen. He opened it, reading every word. He smiled, thinking about how this could have a good effect on you. He hoped you took your mom's advise.

He went back to bed, to see that the covers were kicked off. The shirt was hiked up, and he saw your star wars panties. He held in a laugh. He looked at you, perfect as can be. He gently pulled down the shirt and put the blanket back over you, getting into bed next to you and holding you as you slept. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

You woke up to Sweet Pea holding you as you were snuggled up near his chest. You smiled, slowly getting out of his arms and off of the bed.

You sat down on one of the chairs at the small table in the kitchen. You took notice in the letter that was meant for you. You grabbed it, taking a breathe before unfolding it.

Dear Y/n,

Now that you're reading this, I didn't make it. I am so sorry for letting you live with the burden of your dad. I thought I loved him, but he changed. I should have told somebody what was going on. He threatened me using you if I told anybody, but I could have figured out a way. I'm sorry for that.

I was and will always be a serpent. My tattoo is on my ankle, in case you were wondering. I joined the Serpents when I didn't have anyone else to go to. They are my tribe. My family. Don't blame them for my death, they didn't know. I hope you accept this jacket and join the family that I loved as much as I loved you.

I will send this letter to FP, my best friend. I don't think I have much time anyway, your dad is drinking more often. FP will give this to you when he thinks your ready to join.

You have a very important choice to make y/n. Think it over, because it could be a best one you'll ever make.

Love, mommy

You folded the paper back and sighed. You weren't going to cry over this, you were done crying. The Serpents. They seemed important to her, and every Serpent you knew were full of trust and loyalty. The Serpents. Maybe you should join.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Sweet Pea asked, his voice thick from barely waking up. His hair was in a cute mess as he scratched his stomach.

"Just thinking." I gave him a small smile as he took out two bowls onto the table, pouring one with cereal and giving the cereal box to you.

"About what?" You poured the cereal, giving it to Sweet Pea, in exchange for milk. You poured yourself some, and he put the stuff back.

"About that jacket." He sat down and nodded. You two ate in comfortable silence. After you finished you got up and washed your bowl and spoon, heading for the bedroom.

"Star Wars, huh?"

"Oh my God! Sweets!" You slammed the door shut, changing into your clothes. Sweet Pea smiled. You came out in your regular clothes and pony tail. "Not cool." You gave him a kiss on the cheek, heading to the bathroom. You heard him laugh.

You both got ready, smiling to yourself as you saw Sweet Pea do his hair. It reminded you of Grease. He was just too cute in your eyes. He opened the front door, holding it open for you. "Ready?"

You hesitated, looking at the jacket. You couldn't help it. You let out a sigh and quickly stuffed it in your backpack after folding it. "Yeah." You looked at Sweet Pea, who had the biggest smile on. "Don't." You bit back a smile.

You two rode to school, and you were about to walk to class after hopping off, but a hand grabbed yours. "Wait!"

"What's wrong Sweets?" You asked sweetly.

"Nothing, I, uh, was wondering if you'd want to go on a date with me, tonight." He looked down at your held hands.

You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned against his bike. "I'd love to." He smiled, and was about to kiss you until the warning bell rang. "Gotta go." You pulled away.

"What?!"

"I'll see you later!" You said as you rushed away to your class, leaving Sweet Pea feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. He'll have to get you back for that.

The rest of this school day was about to be horrible for you. Just as you thought, the people of the Northside did not take kindly to those who are not their own.

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Author's Note: I was going to leave this on a bigger cliffhanger, but I figured I could push that for a little later in the story. For now let's focus more on fluff.

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Tag List:

@madaboutlili @sireennotsiren @elsie2018 @greyfairie @iamaunicorn4704 @wanna-plan-world-domination @whenallsaidanddone @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @live-love-bailar @thecraziestcrayon @cvvlxx @grim-adventures58 @official--fangirl @jesus-jagiya

#riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fandom #riverdale #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea fluff #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea fic #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #the southsider

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emptycanoflizards · 5 years

Note

Parkner snowed in at Avengers compound?

I fell in love with this prompt. It ended up being over 2000 words...

The night seemed like a dream to Peter. He was surrounded by his childhood heroes (Whom he had been with consecutively for the past two weeks almost, yet he still couldn’t get over it), cuddled up next to his biggest crush, wearing Christmas pajamas, and watching Christmas movies over a giant fireplace. There was just no way this was real! Of course, this wasn’t quite how the night was supposed to go. Originally, Natasha and Clint were due to go out of town tonight, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were going to go grocery shopping and grab dinner for everyone, Stephen was supposed to go back home, and Harley and Tony “Probably had some work to do or something.”But the snow came down hard, flights got canceled, roads were closed, Stephen just didn’t want to go home, and Peter had an awfully convincing look in his eyes that one particular blond couldn’t deny. All of which led to quite an amazing night of being snowed in.

The group decided to come together and cook dinner that night since it hadn’t happened in quite a long time. Natasha taught Peter and Harley how to make Kutya, which was a type of thick pudding made of lots of sweet stuff that made Pete really excited. She taught them, after a fond glance around, that it symbolizes unity in families. After it was finished, the boys got to throw a spoonful of the pudding onto the ceiling to see their futures. Harley’s spoonful stuck, which was supposed to mean that a plentiful honey harvest was to be expected, though, he didn’t keep bees, so he had no idea what it really meant. Peter’s, on the other hand, dripped onto his nose after being tossed up. The older boy let out a snort and stepped closer to carefully wipe the dish off his face. “Guess you’ll just have to share my harvest, then,” he added quietly, as though it was just some secret between the two, which made Peter’s stomach do flip as he nodded back in agreement. Next to them at the stove, Steve and Bucky were trying to figure out how to make a meatloaf that Steve’s mother used to make them back in the day but seemed to be having little success, seeing as there was now ketchup and oats all over their side of the counter. But both of them were smiling so much that no one really wanted to step in and help. Sam was across from them, meticulously cutting out a mix of sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies into little Christmas shapes. Before they started cooking, he had boldly claimed that he could make the best Christmas cookies in the world, to which almost everyone challenged him on, because Stephen had brought home Wong’s cookies before, and everyone was convinced that those were other-worldly because of how good they were. Tony and Stephen were in their own little world by now as they put together a selection of drinks, including eggnog and holiday punch, both spiked and unspiked. They were in a deep conversation about which country had the best Christmas traditions, and which ones Tony was sober enough to remember, back in the day. Amazing how the man had changed. Clint, as though supervising everyone, wandered around to take pictures of everyone as they worked. It was rare that everyone got together to do something like this, and despite missing a few people, he absolutely had to document everything for later viewing. It was about an hour later that everyone had finished the dishes they were working on and finally sat down at the scarcely used dining room table. Harley had put on a playlist of Christmas songs, which ended up hardly being heard over the constant shouts and laughter of the conversation. They ended up realizing that no one here actually celebrated Christmas, even though the compound was decked out in decor, Christmas tree and everything. Steve had tried to argue that he was still a very fine Christian boy, but almost everyone agreed that they had heard, walked in, or seen the aftermath of activities with Bucky that absolutely no God was involved in, and he quickly surrendered with a guilty laugh. Sometime later, it had grown dark outside, everyone felt full and warm and fuzzy, and the snow continued to fall. Steve stood up and began to collect people’s plates when Peter piped up and suggested they all watch a movie. Everyone was in complete agreement, and voting went down without a hassle, unanimous agreement upon Elf for their first movie. So the Heros and such went back to their rooms quickly to change into more comfortable clothes while Tony set up the projector in the living room. Peter was off in a flash, just excited to get back and start the movie. Harley trailed behind him, laughing softly at how fast the younger boy moved. He had already changed and was waiting outside Peter’s door when the other came out, dressed in a pair of reindeer pajama pants and a Midtown High sweatshirt, which just so happened to counter Harley’s own Christmas tree pants and Rose Hill High t-shirt. “Well look at you, handsome!” He said, looking over him with a smile as soon as he stepped into the hall. The blush on Peter’s cheeks was obvious even in the dim light of the hallway, which only made the older smile wider. “I like your pants,” Peter responded, giggling softly as he looked down at them. They were pretty ridiculous; they each had a different set of eyes on them and had little speech bubbles next to them, aggressively shouting different Christmas phrases. “Thanks,” Harley responded with a chuckle. “Clint got them for me a year or two ago. We were supposed to get each other pajamas, so I got him a Pikachu onesie, and he got me these-”“That's where that came from?! He never would tell me!” He exclaimed, his smile lighting up even more. “I always thought he got it himself and didn’t want to admit it!” Harley shook his head, chuckling softly as he started walking towards the elevator. “Nope, all me. I’m really the mastermind behind his sense of fashion.” A piece of his blond hair fell across his forehead as he stopped to press the button and Peter had to consciously restrain himself from reaching up and pushing it back into place. Above the two boys, the rest of the Avengers were already set up with buckets of popcorn and kettle corn, mugs full of hot cocoa, cider, and eggnog, and blankets to spare. The previews before the movie were already starting, despite everyone still milling around and getting comfortable. By the time Harley and Peter got back to the living room, Bucky was laying across Steve with a bucket of popcorn nestled under his arm, his eyes focused intently on the screen, Sam was on the other end of the couch, slowly inching Bucky’s legs off of him with a glass of cider in his hands. Strange was in the corner, floating with a blanket around his shoulders and kettle corn in his lap, Natasha and Clint were sitting on the other loveseat, still arguing happily over how they were intending to sit, and Tony had disappeared into the kitchen. This seating arrangement left the boys to sit in front of the couches with the cushions on the ground. Neither of them saw this as a problem, as Harley plopped down on one and opened his arms for Peter to come and join him. Without thinking, the brunet sat down and leaned into his embrace, earning a soft, satisfied hum from Harley. He carefully shrugged a blanket around them and leaned back against the couch that Natasha and Clint had finally gotten comfortable with. Peter ended up laying his head on Harley’s shoulder, which he didn’t think about until the other boy started carefully playing with his hair. His cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t move an inch, deciding that this was just what he needed at the moment. Steve and Bucky were the first to retire that night, about halfway through the movie (right when Jody and Buddy go on their date), claiming that it had been a long day, and sleep was necessary. Next was Strange, coincidentally at the same time that they noticed Tony shuffling down towards the elevator. He left with no explanation right after the beginning of Love Actually, which was Clint's choice, for the record. A quarter of the way through the movie, Sam got up to hit the hay, which was right around the same time that Peter could hear Natasha’s breath even out, signifying that she had fallen asleep. Harley continued to make fun of the movie characters in a hushed tone, earning a good amount of quiet laughs from Peter, especially when he added whichever Avenger left next to his list of people to tease. By the time Clint picked Natasha up to carry her to her room, the boys had made a makeshift blanket tent over themselves and were giggling about god knows what. The older man just let out a chuckle and turned on some Christmas music as to not distract the boys. It wasn’t until later when Peter realized he only heard two heartbeats in the room instead of four or more, that they realized that they were alone. It was then that he realized just how close the two had gotten. Their noses were nearly touching under the blanket, which made his cheeks turn light pink. Harley glanced down at his cheeks, at least Peter thought it was at his cheeks, and chuckled softly. “Need some air?” he asked, motioning to the blanket that was now surrounding them. Apparently, Peter’s laugh wasn’t a good enough response for him, as Harley tossed the blanket off of them and scooted off of the couch. He offered his hand to him with a smug smile on his lips. Peter took it with a confused expression on his face, and let out a little yelp when Harley suddenly pulled him closer. He wrapped his arm softly around his waist and brought him so they were almost chest to chest. Peter’s cheeks were aflame now, much to Harley’s amusement. “Do ya know how to dance?” he asked in a low tone. The younger shook his head, his eyes glued to Harley’s blue ones, which only seemed bright with the reflection of the fireplace in them. “No.. Never really something I thought to learn about..” He let out a chuckle that seemed to warm Peter’s insides. “Smartest person I know, and you never learned how to slow dance? Seems fake. But then again, neither did I..” He started swaying them softly back and forth to the music, smiling down at the younger boy. He looked so beautiful in the lighting of the fire; it was almost un-earthy how the light of the fire played off of his dark curls, and how the shadows seemed to catch his cheeks at just the right angles. What really seemed perfect was when he carefully laid his head on the older boy’s chest, sighing softly. “Whatcha thinking about, Petey?” He asked, his voice just over a whisper. Peter shook his head and closed his eyes. “Nothing, really. What about you, Harles?” His grip around his waist seemed to tense up a little, but he let out a breath and it went back to how it was the second before. “Well… There's this boy,” he started, the usual confidence that resided in his voice seems to disappear for the time being. “And I can’t stop thinking about him. Haven’t been able to for a while. He’s super smart and super cute, and I really like cuddling and dancing with him. All that cheesy shit. And he’s a really good cook and he chooses really good movies to watch, and… I dunno, Petey. I can’t get this boy out of my head…” Peter didn’t move, other than to continue to sway to the music. He knew his own heart was beating at an unusually fast rate, but he could also hear how nervous Harley was. Was this real? Did Harley actually mean him? A million thoughts ran through his head as he listened to Harley’s heartbeat. He had liked him for what felt like forever. Since the first time Tony had introduced them in the lab almost two years ago now. The way that Harley was confident with everything that he did but caring enough to take a step back and make sure that it was okay. How chaotic he was but in such an effective, good way. How comfortable he seemed to make Peter feel, no matter the situation; he always made him feel safe and taken care of around Harley. He realized how badly he wanted to kiss him over a year ago, and from there it was just a downhill spiral for Peter. But it was around that time that Harley had gotten more affectionate too. There was more cuddling during movies, more hugs when they saw each other again after a long time, more accidental touching when they were cooking. But Peter had always passed it up as Harley getting more comfortable around him. Purely platonic. But was it?He felt Harley shift above him, looking down at him, nervously, almost. “I… I was thinking about telling this guy, ya know? But I don’t know if he would feel the same… Whatcha think?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I-I think.. I think that this boy would be an-an idiot not to take you.. I think h-he would be really excited. I think he’s probably been waiting a long time to hear this..” Peter whispered back, not taking his head off his chest, mainly out of anxiety. Harley paused for a second, his heart racing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked back down at him. “Peter?” he asked, trying to get the brunet to look up at him. After their eyes met, he knew he couldn’t do anything else. Harley leaned down and brushed his lips tentatively against Peter’s, just testing the water. What he didn’t expect was for Peter to kiss right back. When their lips connected, it felt like everything was right in the world. Like nothing could go wrong, ever again. Neither of them ever wanted the moment to end. But after a second, the blond broke off, looking down at him with a nervous smile. “I… so uh… Wi-will.. Peter..?” He asked, still holding him tight as he stuttered. Peter only nodded, but he wasn’t sure if it was an answer or just encouragement. “Will you.. Do you uh.. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”Peter let out a small laugh and nodded more, this time it obviously being an answer. “Yes, you dork. I’d be stupid not to say yes!” Harley let out a breathy laugh as all the tension seemed to leave his body at his answer. “Holy shit..” he whispered, earning an equal laugh from the other. “Yeah… good holy shit, right?” “Fantastic holy shit,” He murmured, smiling softly at him, before ducking down and pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

#parkner #harley keener x peter parker #parkner fic #harley keener/peter parker #peter Parker #harley keener #marvel #avengers #domestic avengers

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darkstar6782 · 4 years

Text

15.06: Golden Time - My Review

A good, solid episode with a reasonably happy ending, for what i think is the first time this season? I liked it a lot.

I am so glad that the show did right by Eileen here; her death was almost as devastating for me as Charlie’s (it was more painful because it was so pointless, unlike Charlie, who died trying to protect and save Dean, but a little less so because I didn’t know or identify quite as closely with Eileen as a character as I did with Charlie). And for Sam to be able to save her using a spell that Rowena developed made my heart hurt in a good way. I like that the show is giving him time to face his grief, rather than brushing it under the rug like they have done with so much of his trauma in the past, and I like that he is almost honoring Rowena’s memory, in a way, by using the magic he learned from her to protect himself and save people. It’s a tool in his arsenal that I have wished to see more of for a long time, and even if they don’t do much more of it past this episode, watching him use a hex bag to kill that evil witch was awesome enough to make a lot of possible off-screen witch!Sam badassery canon.

I also found myself actually liking the Cas sideplot in this episode. He appears to have learned a lot from the Winchesters about being a hunter over the last few years--his attempt at impersonating an FBI agent was not nearly as cringe-worthy as it had been in the past, and seeing him work with the evidence just like Sam and Dean do was pretty cool as well. He is definitely more human than angel at this point, it seems, but he’s obviously still an angel in the ways that count. It also makes me actually wonder what the story is with his fading powers, since, for once, it seems like it’s going to be an important plot point, rather than just a way to make him less useful. He seemed to have a lot of power at his disposal when he was fighting the djinn and was filled with purpose and righteous anger, but it started to fade as soon as the threat was no longer there. And I am definitely looking forward to him and Sam teaming up to figure out some of this God stuff, now that Cas wants to get back in the game.

(more thoughts below the fold...)

Some other things I am here for:

While I’m not exactly happy with Dean’s new-found nihilism, it was fun to see him wandering around the bunker in his dead-guy robe and hot-dog pajama pants. The pants were very reminiscent of his “Send Noods” noodle socks from the beginning of last season, which, coincidentally, he was wearing during another stint of holing himself up in his room, eating junk food and hiding from the world. And honestly, it’s not the worst coping mechanism he could have--I definitely prefer seeing him in goofy loungewear eating cocoa cereal straight from the box than drinking himself into a stupor like the younger Dean would have.

Sam and Eileen are so damn cute together. While I don’t really want to see them become a ‘thing’, because that’s not what this show is about, I do like their relationship, and how Sam is learning sign language for her, and how well they understand each other--even more so now that they’ve both been to Hell. And I really like Eileen as a character in her own right, too. She’s smart, and funny, and resourceful, and a very good hunter. I hope that she pops back in every now and again, but, so help me, show, if you end up killing her off again... at least give her a happy ending next time, please? And regardless of what happens to her in the future, Chuck damn well better be made to answer for all of these good people that are getting sent to Hell.

I loved the phone setup that is so much like Bobby’s, and I think the idea of them all being cellphones both makes sense but is also extremely useful, because it means that they can take them on the road if they need to. I am surprised that they are not more organized--I could see Sam setting them all out neatly any time they spend more than a few days in the Bunker--but the boys have had a lot on their minds lately, and watching Dean scramble around for them made for a good scene in a very Dean-light episode.

#supernatural #spn spoilers #15.06 golden time #my first-watch reviews

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1b-headcanons · 6 years

Note

Hiiiiii!!! So I was thinking 1-B sleep headcannons? Like, who’s a light/heavy sleeper, who can function on 3 hours of sleep, who gets nightmares, basically anything relating to sleep, lol. Have a wonderful day! Thank you!!

Awase: normal sleep schedule, but if there’s a new game out, he’ll become nocturnal. Game all night and sleep all day.

Kaibara: loves to sleep in whenever possible. He has an air tight morning routine for getting as much sleep as possible. Any suggestions to just go to bed earlier are ignored

Kamakiri: the boy just doesn’t sleep apparently. Text him at any point in the night and he’ll respond. No one’s figured out if they’re waking him up, or if it’s coincidental, or it’s a prank

Kuroiro: Always sleepy. This boy could sleep 14 hours straight and be like “time for a nap” 2 hours later.

Kendo: tried to keep a schedule, but she’ll sometimes have too much coffee and be up way later, but she can function on little sleep.

Yui: keeps a tight sleep schedule that NO ONE is allowed to interrupt or there’ll be hell to pay. Embaresssd that she used to pee the bed frequently as a kid

Kinoko: lays down a layer of mushrooms on her comforter before she turns in for the night. She claims they “sing her a lullaby.” Now everyone fears her.

Ibara: early to bed, early to rise. She has to wrap up her hair to avoid any accidents with her thorns. Occasionally will have nightmares that leave her skittish the next day.

Shishida: it’s canon that he loves napping. How could you not when you’re a walking pillow with a blanket of fur. Will sleep anywhere

Shoda: gets nightmares easily, but gets over them once he tells someone about it. Reiko is usually who he tells since she likes hearing about other people’s bad dreams.

Pony: sleeps like an angel. Will cuddle with anyone. Prone to sleepwalking. Monoma once caught her trying to kick down his down while sleepwalking

Tsuburaba: can function on very little sleep. Moves around a lot in his sleep. Sleeps naked. Had to compromise that he’d where boxers during the camp.

Tetsutetsu: TOO MUCH ENERGY! He’s either wide awake or dead asleep. There is no in-between. After the training camp, he’s sometimes get nightmares involving fog and guns.

Setsuna: claims to have a racecar bed at home to sound cool. Her only PJs is a Dinosaur Kigurumi. Otherwise, she’s in her undies. Sleeptalks a lot, leading to some interesting questions the next morning during sleepovers.

Fukidashi: will usually stay up late drawing or watching anime, so he takes plenty of power naps. Owns many pajama pants with anime logos on them.

Honenuki: doesn’t need sleep. He could sleep an hour and be ready for the day. Weekends are when he finally crashes.

Bondo: a very heavy sleeper. You could elbow drop him and he’d just roll over. Gets the munchies late at night.

Monoma: tons of blankets, even in the summer. Wears a purple sleep mask with “pillow princess” written in glitter. Very light sleeper that blames any noises in the night on Kuroiro or Reiko

Reiko: insomnia hits her pretty often, so she’s awake very late. Likes hearing about other people’s bad dreams, but if she has one herself, she becomes supremely freaked out and begs in the group chat for someone to save her. Everyone comes to comfort her without fail.

Rin: a beautiful sleeper. Prone to lucid dreams. Sleep is when he lets his hair down and it looks goooood. Don’t try waking him up though or he’ll instinctively throw a punch.

- Mod Iron

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wilwywaylan · 5 years

Text

Through the lens

Fandom : Les Miserables

Modern!AU, 2134 words, Jehan Prouvaire / Montparnasse

Montparnasse is shortsighted and it’s the end of the world

Also on AO3 !

Friday nights were Jehan's favourite kind of nights. All their lessons were behind them, next Monday was still very, very far away, so far that they could barely envision it, homework could still wait a day, and there were two whole days to fill ahead of them. They could go for a walk, break into a cemetary to write, visit a few shops of their accointances, drop by the library, crash on a friend's couch for a creative session (involving ink, paint and not too many clothes) or a movie night, and still have enough time to cuddle with Montparnasse and sleep in. Even better, when they had finally moved together, Montparnasse had taken upon himself to spend more time at home. Especially Friday nights, since he knew they were important for Jehan.

And so they were now seated on the couch, each at one end, a colorful, hand-knitted plaid thrown on their intertwined legs. Cups of hot cocoa and plates of cookies were strategically placed within their reach. There was no noise in the flat, no music, no noisy neighbours, nothing but Montparnasse (the cat) purring like a tiny motor from where she was sprawled, between her masters' knees. Jehan had opted for some light reading for the evening, and was currently engrossed in a very nice steampunk story about a poet and an adventurer. Well, engrossed to a point. They kept glancing up at Montparnasse, who seemed very interested in whatever he was reading on his phone. The light of the screen gave a blueish glint to his eyes, and a beautiful shine to his hair. Huge concession to the evening, he had traded his black suit, elegant shirt and tailored jacket for a t-shirt, slighty less tight pants and a knit jacket that were way more comfortable. All black, of course, his concession didn't extend to colors. He was reading something apparently fascinating, because he barely moved, only sweeping from time to time to get to the next part, apparently unaware that Jehan was looking at him. Or maybe he knew, and was enjoying the attention. Both were possible, and both were good.

He was browsing through a sale of Armani jackets, when a book suddenly appeared in his field of vision, startling him.

- Here, Jehan chirped, read that ! It's amazing !

They leaned back, waiting for the small chuckle that would soon follow. Montparnasse took the book, brought it close to his face. Very close. And stared at it. And stared at it more, without any reaction. And was he.... squinting ?

- Ma rose, Jehan asked slowly. Is there....

They were cut by a growl. Montparnasse was still not looking at them. His nose was almost burrowed in the book, and he was frowning. After two years, Jehan fancied themselves an expert in Montparnassese, and they could read him... Well, like a book. That attitude, that noise, were more than just a passing annoyance. Something was wrong.

Very gently, Jehan moved fowards, taking the time to pick up the cat and put her on the floor. Montparnasse still hadn't looked up, focusing entirely on the page. Or pretending very hard. Slowly, to give him all the time he needed to retract, Jehan put a hand at the top of the book, and after a few seconds, pulled it out of his boyfriend's grasp. Montparnasse entrelaced his now empty fingers, keeping his eyes firmly lowered.

- Alistair ? Jehan asked again.

They almost never used his given name, opting for pet names instead, and this time, Montparnasse glanced up, briefly, before going back to contemplating his hands. Jehan took them, unfolding the tense fingers one by one. They were cold, as usual, and they held them tight to warm them.

- Alistair, they tried again, tell me...

- Tell me what ? That I can't see from further than a couple feet ? That I broke my sight trying to see in the dark ? That I'm fucking blind as a fucking bat ? Ha ha, very funny, yes ! Go on, laugh ! It's the best fucking joke of the fucking year !

Jehan let the anger wash over him, stroking Montparnasse's skin with their thumb, trying to soothe him. As they expected, the outburst didn't last. Montparnasse soon slumped on himself, eyes down again.

Tenderly, Jehan slid a hand under Montparnasse's chin, lifted his head, until he looked at them, and wiped the small tear pooling at the corner of his eye.

- I'll take you to the optometrist, okay ? And, they added, I promise not to tell anyone about this. Cross my heart and hope to die.

Montparnasse's only answer was a small noise, but there was a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Jehan grabbed his arms and pulled him towards them. Montparnasse resisted a little for show, then let himself be caught in the embrace. Jehan bundled him in the large flaps of his shirt, covering him in swaths of gaudy tartan, and wrapped their arms around him. The buttons of their overalls dug in Montparnasse's back, and he wiggled around a little until he was comfortably leaning against their chest. Jehan retrieved the book from between the cushions, and started reading out loud. Montparnasse laid his head on their shoulder and closed his eyes, letting Jehan's voice lulling him.

~*~

Jehan was sitting on a bench coincidentally set just in front of the optometrist. A notebook was open on their lap, but the page that should have welcomed their newest poem was instead covered in meaningless doodles. As promised, they had made an appointment for Montparnasse, and had walked them there. But Montparnasse had been very clear : he wanted to go there alone. Jehan had kissed him for good luck, and had taken residence on the bench.

Thirty minutes had gone by, and still, no sign of Montparnasse. That wasn't a bad omen, of course. At least, for Montparnasse. He was able to take care of himself. No, that small twinge of dread Jehan was feeling was more for the doctor. Montparnasse didn't like to be poked and prodded, and he knew how to make himself heard. Jehan just hoped that the doctor they had opted for was patient and not too pushy. Or they would be in way more trouble than just a need of glasses.

Finally, as they started to think that they should do something, maybe burst into the office, grab their boyfriend and run, Montparnasse exited the glass doors. He didn't look particulary happy with the situation, but not very angry either. Jehan made an effort to trust him and not check his hands for any trace of blood.

- So, they asked as soon as Montparnasse sat beside them, how did it go ?

- I need glasses, was the stern answer.

His tone was so bitter than Jehan reached over and pulled him against them, very gently. There was no resistance, Montparnasse let himself be hugged, leaning his forehead against Jehan's. They stayed like this for a few minutes, giving Montparnasse the time to relax and get his footing back.

- Do you want to go and pick your glasses ? they finally asked. Or would you prefer contacts ?

- I can't, Montparnasse answered with a dry, unamused laugh. My eyes can't handle them. Too dry, they said. Glasses or nothing.

Jehan held him a little tighter, stroking the short hair on the side of his boyfriend's skull with his thumb. Montparnasse emitted a noise that sounded a little like a purr.

- So ? Do you want to go and pick some glasses ? And then we can go home and binge-watch Say yes to the dress.

- As if I watched that kind of shows, Montparnasse scoffed, but there was the hint of a smile in his voice.

- I know you can't resist talk of 10000$ dresses and Armani-designed cakes.

- You know me so well.

~*~

Choosing glasses was, of course, easier said than done. Montparnasse was very picky in all his fashion choices, and glasses were no exception. He'd been at it for the best part of an hour now, the unwanted pile kept growing bigger, and the clerk's patience was getting thinner. But no matter what she pulled out of her drawers, it couldn't find grace in his eyes.

- Ma rose, Jehan called from where they were browsing through an assortiment of very colored frames, can't you find anything ?

- They are all awful, Montparnasse groaned.

- All of them, really ?

- I don't think there's anything even worth trying in this shop.

He glanced pointedly at Jehan who was sporting a very fancy frame with flowers carved all along the legs.

- Come on, ma rose. I'm sure we could find something. Let's see...

- If you come at me with another pink frame, I swear to god I'll burn the store down to the ground.

The clerk looked vaguely worried now. Jehan smiled at her to reassure her.

- You only need them to read, Jehan remarked, so you'll only wear them at home. I'll be the only one to see them.

- You're the only one to see my pajamas, and that doesn't mean I'm not going to choose something not stylish.

- Not stylish ? You sleep in...

- What do you think of those ? Montparnasse cut hastily.

He was holding a sleek, black frame, with elongated lenses. Probably one he randomly grabbed in the pile, but Jehan had to admit, they looked quite good.

- Try them on ?

Montparnasse glanced at him, then at the glasses in his hand. He looked ready to throw them on the floor. But finally, he slipped them on. Jehan stiffled a gasp, even lifting a hand to their mouth.

- What ? Montparnasse asked. So horrible ?

- No... not at all. You look...

- I look ?

- Stunning.

Montparnasse raised a graceful eyebrow and turned to face the mirror. He studied himself at an angle, then another, lifted his chin, lowered his head.

- It's... not bad, he finally said.

Jehan joined him, laying their hands on Montparnasse's shoulders, and bent down to look at him over his head.

- They fit you very well, they cooed, and they really bring out your eyes.

- I think so, Montparnasse said with a smile.

- Are there of a satisfying brand ?

Montparnasse took off the glasses to look at the small letters on the lens.

- Prada. They'll do.

The clerk smiled, visibly relieved to have found something before the black-dressed man decided to destroy her shop. Jehan smiled, too, pushing the glasses back on Montparnasse's nose.

- You look amazing, my love. Look at you, you're as handsome with glasses as without. You're really a sight to behold.

- A sight you love ?

- A sight I adore. I should take a pic right now and hold it dear.

- Maybe you should do away with the heart-shapped glasses, then.

- Never.

~*~

They were once again settled on the couch, books in hand and hot cocoa within reach. Montparnasse was half-laying against Jehan's chest, toying with the corner of a page. The glasses, brand-new, had been resting on his lap for twenty minutes now, and still, he hadn't made a move to put them on. Jehan hadn't said a word ; that was a path Montparnasse had to take on his own. They slid their fingers through his hair from time to time, but other than that, they didn't move. Even the cat was sitting at the end of the couch, watching them intensely, her tail swaying lazily back and forth.

Montparnasse extended a hand towards the glasses, slowly, as if they could bite him. But they kept sitting here, as innocently as possible for a pair of glasses. He lifted them to the light, studying them, watching the light play through the lenses. Finally, when nothing bad happened, he slid them on his face, adjusting them slightly, and stayed like that, simply looking through them.

- How does it feel ? Jehan asked softly.

- ... clear, mostly. Things aren't blurry anymore. I can focus.

- I'm glad for you.

- If only I could not look like a nerd.

- The most good-looking nerd in existence, I assure you.

Montparnasse nudged them with a groan and settled a little closer, Jehan's arms wrapped around his waist. The cat came on his lap to claim the now free spot and curled up into a small ball, perfectly nestled on his legs. As they picked up their book, Jehan whispered in Montparnasse's ear :

- You know, I'm sure you look awesome, wearing nothing but those glasses...

- My, aren't you a naughty one, Jehan Prouvaire ? And here I thought that you were mostly a pure spirit...

- You know very well that I can't resist you. And I have a soft spot for people with glasses. So, you with glasses....

- ... gets you weak.

- Very weak.

- Well I might find a way to revive you...

Books fell on the floor, completly forgotten, followed by a disgruntled cat, and soon, a whole bunch of clothes. But not the glasses.

#les miserables #jehan prouvaire #montparnasse #jehanparnasse #montprouvaire #just fluff #mindless fluff #so much fluff

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missgeek83 · 6 years

Text

Give Me Love

TITLE: Give Me Love AUTHOR: @missgeek83 RATING: NC-17 SUBJECT: Ed Sheeran AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a shorter one-off that I literally just finished. I’m learning to follow through with a prompt whether I feel it’s going great or not so great. Hopefully this will bring on more one-offs, and maybe one day I can get back to chapter stories! This one was inspired mostly by “Give Me Love” (hence the title), but there’s a little bit of “Slow Dancing In A Burning Room” by John Mayer thrown in there too, feel-wise. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know if you like it!

It’s dark. The last cigarette from the pack burns out on the cool ground as his shadow retreats back down the alley toward the car. Another night, another lonely car ride home. He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and rounds the corner, head down against the wind. When he reaches the car he grabs for the keys in his pocket but stops when he hears…crying? Leaned against the car parked behind his is a woman, gloved hands covering her face, blonde hair tumbling in delicate waves over her arms as they shake. He glances around, eyebrows furrowing, only to find that they’re alone on the street. “Hey…you alright?” he softly asks, moving slightly toward her. Her head turns to face him, cheeks and nose flushed red to match her ruby lips, eyes drowing in tears. She looks shocked, then seems to realize a stranger has found her sobbing like a child and wipes at her eyes, trying to seem more together than she actually is. “I’m fine,” she says with a sniffle, straightening up and standing back on the sidewalk. He nods slowly, not fooled. “Anything I can help with?” “No…no, it’s-” Her bravado fails her. “It’s fine, I’ll be alright.” She’s trying to keep her face stoic, tipping her chin up and giving him a poor excuse for a smile, but her bottom lip starts to tremble and he knows she’s anything but ok. Her icy blue eyes give her away, the sadness of heartbreak unmistakable. “You sure?” “Yes. I, I just came out for some air. Thanks.” She’s a perfect stranger. This isn’t your problem. He nods at her and starts to turn toward his car again. He gets in and starts it, risking a glance in his rearview to see if she’s still there. She’s walking down, away from him, and he wonders if she’ll be alright. He sighs, pulls away, and heads home to the quiet. ___________________

His eyes flutter open and land on her frame, sitting at the end of the bed. He gently sits up on his elbows, but she doesn’t move. From this angle, all he can see is her long yellow hair curling down her back and over a white lace dress. He leans up and touches the tips of his fingers to her exposed shoulder blade and she turns her head to the side, a small smile playing at the edge of her red lips. “I thought you were going to sleep forever. I’m glad you finally came to.” She turns further, right knee sliding up onto the mattress and he scoots out from under the covers to meet her. Her smile broadens, and her eyes reflect the candles lining the walls. A soft, cold rain is pitter-pattering outside, but the room feels like summer to him, and she looks the part. His hand reaches for her face, slipping under her ear to cup her cheek. Her eyes close and she leans into his touch, and for some reason tonight he’s simply fascinated with her. He’s done this a hundred times, memorized every freckle and curve, but she seems…new to him. His thumb brushes over her bottom lip and when he looks up their eyes meet. Her gaze is piercing, drawing him in, pulling him further under her spell. He gives her the same saucy smile she’s been giving him and leans in to kiss her. She giggles as their lips touch. A second later they’re heated, mouths both fighting for dominance. She puts both hands on his bare chest and pushes, using his surpise to gain the upper hand. His laughter is light, and his hands slide up her thighs as she rests above him. “Cheater.” She chuckles into his neck, flitting her lips across his soft skin. When she reaches his shoulder, she traces the crisp blue feathers there with her tongue. They were almost the color of her eyes, the brightest blue he’d ever seen. She’s distracted now, and he takes this opportunity to reach up to unzip her dress. She sits up and it flies over her head, landing thoughtlessly next to a set of candles. The sudden rush of air makes the shadows in the room dance as the flames sway back and forth. It plays out like a light show over her porcelain skin and he finds his hands now coasting over her hips to tease along the sides of her breasts. She sighs and lets her head fall back slightly, red lips parted, when his able fingers finally find her hardened buds. She beings to rock slowly over him with each pass of his thumbs and before long a small wet spot forms over his pajama-covered erection. He removes his hands and lightly taps each hip so he can slide out of his pants. She helps, tugging them off and dropping them over the side of the bed. Ditching her last scrap of clothing, she moves back to rest above him, poised at his tip. She uses a delicate hand to maneuver him forward then back, and slips the head into her heated core. He can’t help but stare, mesmerized, as each inch of his length disappears into her until he’s all the way home. She starts slow, rising and falling with precision, then she turns her gaze down. The room is giving his inked skin a delicious orange glow and the way his hands hold her hips ever-so-gently sends a spark to her heart. Her hands plant firmly on his chest, an anchor for the coming storm, and she begins to buck up against his thrusts with more force. Internally, she squeezes him in rhythm, watching with satisfaction as his eyes close with each upward pitch. The soft hold he’d had on her hips intensifies, until the tips of his fingers are white with pressure. The bed beneath them quakes, as does the bedside table, and the candles placed there begin to wobble dangerously. Neither of them notice. The rain outside reaches near-monsoon levels, splashing against the windows like waves. Her cries echo into a crescendo, his grunts matching in volume until the rain is but a whisper. Her fingernails scrape down his chest, then move to rest on his shoulders, giving her more lift as she slams her hips down. She’s burning him alive, inside out, upside down, from every possible direction and he can feel the fireball threatening to consume them both. He unclenches his eyes to see her in motion: silken blonde hair flying over her shoulders and pert breasts bouncing with each meeting of their bodies. He slips a hand down, where they’re connected, and touches his thumb to her clit. Her gasp gets caught in her throat and her eyes roll back. Her movements become sloppy, uneven, and he knows she’s close. “Come for me, angel,” he purrs. He barely notices the flames engulfing the room. They’re safe there, on the bed, he knows. He flicks his thumb across her clit one last time and she yells out, her whole body tensing and trembling as her release overtakes her. His head slams back onto the pillow and he roars as he rises to meet her and he’s done. As he fills her up, he knows everything he has is now hers. Heartsoulmindbody. Anything for this golden goddess. She collapses on him, heaving in air as she tries to calm herself. The whole room is engulfed now, orange and red tendrils licking at the ceiling. Paying it no mind, she nuzzles into his face, lips near his ear, hands coming to rest in his copper curls. He wraps his arms around her back and hugs her close. He can’t hear the rain anymore, just the crackle of the fire as it burns around them. He runs his hands down her back, over her shoulders, up her neck, into her hair, and back down again. “You saved me.” It’s a whisper. “No, love, I think you’ve got it turned ‘round.” “No. No one else even saw me, but you…” She sits up slightly to meet his eyes. “You saved me from drowning.” He smiles at her. Her outline begins to shimmer and glitter before him. He was waking up, he could tell. “This time. It won’t even matter in a minute. What then?” “I think you’ll figure it out.” Her red lips tilt up in a grin before she kisses him one last time.

When he looks up at her next, for the last glimpse of his fair skinned beauty, he could almost swear that she has wings…

_________________

The next night, across the crowd, he sees her leaning against a corner by herself. She’s wearing the same lace dress from his dream, with the same curled hair and bright red lips. She’s also wearing a set of white angel wings. It strikes him as odd, because no one else is dressed up. He leaves his friends and weaves through the people standing idle. Just as he’s almost to her, she looks up. Her smile is knowing, playful, like they’re sharing a secret. A hazy memory of a burning room and an angel flashes through his mind. Then he’s standing in front of her, and she straightens from her leaned position against the wall. “You found me.” “Little coincidental, running into you again, isn’t it, love?” “I think you know there’s more to it than that.” She raises to her tip-toes and gives him a raised eyebrow before softly brushing her lips to his. A thousand images spill behind his closed eyes – the angel in front of him, so lonely, so sad. Helping everyone find the object of their hearts desire but never finding the same for herself. Until last night. The loneliest of nights, the one that made her break the rules. Arrows were only for humans, to set them on their course, but the pain had to stop. She hadn’t known what would happen; she knew she could die, knew she could be punished if she were ever discovered. She had to try though. All her years of suffering had led her to the moment they met on the sidewalk. This was both of their happy endings. She’d finally found what she’d searched the world for. He was hers. ---------- Masterlist here.

#give me love #slow dancing in a burning room #Ed Sheeran #Ed Sheeran fanfic #One shot #Smut #Fan fic

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