#xx for you cherry baby

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi! Can I please request a poly!Marauders x reader where the reader has a secret admirer? The reader is receiving anonymous gifts and letters, making the boys anxious and jealous. If not, it's okay! Thank you, author-san!

omg i love this! thank you so much, baby, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: jealousy and possessiveness, borderline harassment and stalking, hickey

1.1k words

You groaned loudly when you opened the front door only to be greeted by yet another bouquet of flowers. You begrudgingly brought the arrangement into the house, setting it on the countertop. 

"Again? That’s like the third this week, and it’s only Wednesday." Sirius said, exasperated and (almost) as annoyed as you. 

"Fifth, actually." You hated that you were complaining, you knew you were technically very lucky to receive all these gifts, it was just distressing. And to be frank, getting very old.

"Christ, this person is thirsty." Sirius’ voice was strained, clearly more anxious than he was wanting to let on. 

"At least it seems they don’t have much of a chance, anyone worth their salt knows that you hate roses, angel." James said, between mouthfuls of his sandwich. 

"I know," You cringed. "Who should I give these to this time? Lily has enough flowers to open a shop" You rolled your eyes. "Speaking of," You reached into your work bag and pulled out two boxes. "There were chocolates at my work when I got there yesterday, and a pair of earrings on monday." You walked over to where Remus and Sirius were cuddled on the couch. 

“Geez, dove. Are we gonna have to step up our game?” Remus said, voice tinged with jealousy. 

"No, this person needs to step down. Or at least give me a return address or something. All the notes say is ‘from someone who appreciates you, xx.’ It’s actually kind of distressing." You handed the smaller box of earrings to Sirius, "Are these your style, honey?" 

"What? You don’t want them?" He sounded surprised. Of course you didn’t! Why would you need presents from a random person when you have three boys who give you all the love you could ever need? (and in the way you like it)

"No, I would feel weird wearing them." You cringed, handing the larger box to Remus. "You can have these, I don’t even like cherry chocolate." Remus took the box like it was filled with poison, a disgusted tilt to his lips, just as Sirius dramatically dropped the jewelry box onto the coffee table. 

"I don’t know whose grubby paws have been on this box." He sneered. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, looking over to James who was still in the kitchen. He had set his sandwich down and was looking like a kicked puppy. It made your heart crack.

"Jamie, what’s wrong baby? Come here." You beckoned him over. He rushed to your side, placing his hand protectively on your shoulder and gripping you tight. You looked at your other two boyfriends, Remus’ jaw was clenched tight and Srius was still looking at the box and scowling. 

"I jus’ don’t like it." James said from your side, his voice was small like a child's. 

"Wait, hold on," You said, "Are you all actually worried about this?"

"Define ‘worried’ lovely," Remus said, his voice an awful mix of venomous and depressed. “I don’t think any of us like knowing there’s someone out there fighting for your affections.” His eyes had an angry glint to them. 

“Guys,” You said, your heart only breaking further. “You have nothing to be worried about, okay?” James’ grip tightened on you. “There is absolutely no competition here, I’m not even giving these the time of day. I don’t want anything to do with the gifts or the person sending them.” 

“But you would if we weren’t in the picture.” Sirius said quietly, all too insecure for your liking. You wormed your way out of James’ grasp, resulting in a whine being pulled from his throat, to crouch in front of Sirius. You grabbed his pretty face in your hands, looking into his sad eyes. 

“No, I wouldn’t. I’m not impressed by these gifts.” You took a deep breath, not wanting to confess the next part and worry your boyfriends worse. “They actually kind of scare me.” You admitted, making all their eyes snap to you. 

“Scared? Of what, darlin’?” James piped up. 

“I just,” You cringed. “I don’t like knowing that there is someone this obsessed with me and I don’t know who they are. And that they know where I live and where I work. I mean, who knows how much they know?” 

“Well now I feel like an arse.” Sirius grabbed you from the floor and hauled you onto the couch with him and Remus, wrapping himself tightly around you. “Here I was thinking this person was gonna get you away from us, not knowing they were worrying you.” 

“You’re not, I promise!” You reassured. “Honestly, if there was someone doing all this for you three I would be really jealous too.” You placed a hand on two of your boyfriends’ thighs, looking over at James, who was still sulking, now sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “But I can assure you, even if I found out who this person was, they, and no one else, would be able to take me from you three. You aren’t getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I don’t like stalkers.” You joked. 

Remus pulled you closer to him, gentle but still much more aggressive than usual. Your other two boyfriends had settled, but he was still heated. 

“Remmy,” You turned to face him. “I promise, you have nothing to worry about.” 

“I know,” He grunted, burying his face into your neck. You wanted to shrink at the ticklish feeling but you allowed him to stay there, knowing he needed it. Remus had a jealous streak, perhaps the most of all your boyfriends. James and Sirius were more subtle in their protectiveness, but Remus started marking you all like a wolf anytime someone let their gaze linger too long. You buried your fingers in his hair and scratched his scalp, trying to relax him. 

“As soon as I find out who this is I will get them to stop, I promise.” You said vehemently. You looked guiltily at all your boyfriends, “I’m sorry this is happening, it isn’t fair to you all.” 

“It’s not your fault, dolly.” Sirius placed his hand on your back. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you aren’t asking for this.” You were about to hug him, but Remus held fast around your waist, you started to protest, but you felt Remus’ lips latch to a spot on your neck, nibbling and sucking hard enough to sting, but not hurt. The sound you let out was half giggle and half moan.

“Christ, Moons!” James barked, “You trying to brand them or something?” The three of you started giggling like children. Remus released your skin from his teeth, observing the red and purple splotch that was left in his wake. 

“Gotta make sure they know what’s mine.” He said, possessively. “Don’t worry," His eyes glinted furiously at your two other boyfriends, "you two are next.” 

#poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #drabble #fluff #marauders fandom #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black x reader #sirius black one shot #sirius black #jealousy #lily’s asks #anon ask #anon request

[poetsblvd]

fic recs ﹐ ( charles leclerc x reader )

— key . fluff (❀) angst (✿) smau (❁) mature (❃) —

leclercs type (❀) @thebearchives

always, evermore, even after and still (❁) @love-belle

it’s never over (❀) (❃) @leclsrc

fix what has been broken (❁) @lorarri

you’ll change your name, or change your mind (✿) @monzabee

heartbreak on tour series (❁) @twobluejeans

right timing (✿) (❀) @moneymasnn

baby leclerc series (❀) @starkwlkr

lightning mclover (❀) @f1version

10 seconds (❀) @lxclerc

itch (❃) @monzamash

this is what it feels like (❁) @love-belle

sweet pea (❀) @leclsrc

delicate series (✿) (❀) (❁) @redclercs

north star series (✿) (❀) @harley-sunday

amour rose (❁) @cartierre

cherry tomato (❀) @xxblairexxss

to live for the hope of it all (❁) @pierregazly

una noche en monaco (✿) (❀) (❃) @charlesswife

sparks (❀) @writingstoraes

a house, a home (✿) @vetteltea

saw your mom at the grocery store (❁) @love-belle

it’s called love (❀) (✿) @racinggirl

honeymoon (❃) @lecsainz

what would you say (if i told you i loved you) (❁) @cieloclercs

what could’ve been (✿) @norrisleclercf1

pardesi girl (❁) @fleetwooods

i’d never walk cornelia street again (❁) @love-belle

night tea and tears (❀) (✿) @httpiastri

the seasons of love series (❀) (✿) (❃) @formulaforza

pretty visitors (❀) @strawberrysainz

still writing pages (✿) @leclercsbunny

royal series (❁) @maryleclerc

lonely call (✿) @lxclerc

for sentimental reasons (❀) (✿) (❃) @deadaydreams

the delicate series (❀) (✿) @fleetwooods

when it rains it pours (✿) @silverszobo

you gotta move, or move on (✿) @formulaforza

thirsty thoughts (❃) (❁) @lorarri

you’re losing me (✿) @oconso

why we broke up (✿) @charlesluvr

shoulder to lean on (✿) (❀) @silverszobo

ma moitié (❀) (✿) @thebearchives

the winner takes it all series (✿) @silverstonesainz

stories old and true (❀) (❃) @cherry-leclerc

i have forgotten (✿) (❃) @cherry-leclerc

lily’s notes , if i studied for half the time i spent on tumblr i’d be a genius. but this is more fun and i slowly find myself tumbling down the tumblr black hole and re-experiencing my old fav fics that i’ve stumbled across again , and omg wow im having so much fun making fic recs so expect a lot more !! so this is the charles rec list aka the current f1 poster boy , max rec list next !! thank you to all the amazing writers for pushing their hard work onto these masterpieces mwah xx

#౨ৎ my recs #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic recs #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x y/n

[pascalpvnk]

december & january fic recs list

hello! welcome to the second installment of my end of the month(ish) fic recs posts :) listed in no particular order, just as each fic was read! [once again, if your fic has found a cozy home on my tbr blog, don't fret! i will work through each one slowly but surely xx (divider by @saradika-graphics)

important post regarding TLOU + Neil Druckmann’s Zionism!!

heed all warnings according to each fic. if there's something on here that isn't your cup of tea and you don't want to read it, then scroll past. thank you!

fic rec masterlist // main masterlist

a * denotes smut (18+ MDNI!!)

drabbles

untitled [joel cares for you when you're ill] - @undercoverpena (soft!joel miller x reader) snooze - @tightjeansjavi (joel miller x f!reader) untitled [first date arm appreciation] - @softlyspector (joel miller x f!reader)

oneshots

Joel Miller

sweet thing* - @honeyedmiller (jackson!joel x sunshine!f!reader) study days with joel* - @bearsbeetsbeskar (joel miller x f!reader) joel nye, the science guy* - @endlessthxxghts (joel miller x afab!reader) love shack - @pascalispretty (joel miller x gn!reader) do you like it here?* - @/endlessthxxghts (joel miller x afab!reader) a burning desire - @/honeyedmiller (firefighter!joel miller x f!reader) hiraeth* - @/honeyedmiller (dbf!joel miller x f!reader) ripe* - @hier--soir (preoutbreak!joel miller x f!reader) teacher's pet* - @javiscigarette (joel miller x virgin!f!reader) the way he was - @cavillscurls (joel miller x reader) a lesson in condom sense* - @joeloverture (dbf!joel miller x f!reader) softness - @joelsgreys (post outbreak!joel miller x f!reader) texas hold 'em* - @sweetercalypso (joel miller x f!reader) yellow bird* [from whiskey sour universe] - @kiwisbell (joel miller x f!reader) sick days with joel miller - @/bearsbeetsbeskar (joel miller x f!reader) caught the bug - @mrsmando (joel miller x f!reader) warm me up* - @/tightjeansjavi (game!joel miller x f!reader) your heart, a sonnet - @kedsandtubesocks (author!joel miller x f!reader) will you show me?* - @eupheme (no-outbreak!joel x f!reader, joel x reader x tess) untitled request [body insecurity comfort] - @forever-rogue (joel miller x f!reader) like nothing matters* - @sp00kymulderr (joel miller x afab!reader) yours and mine, mine and yours - @morallyinept (no-outbreak!joel miller x pregnant!afab!reader) untitled* [body worship] - @/softlyspector (joel miller x afab!reader)

Frankie Morales

sweet treat [part I // part II] - @/mrsmando (sweet!frankie morales x f!plus-size!reader) worship* - @/tightjeansjavi (frankie morales x f!reader) birthday girl* - @ilovepedro (frankie morales x plus-size!latina!f!reader) pickup truck* - @luxurychristmaspudding (frankie morales x f!reader) end up here* - @inthe-dark-tonight (frankie morales x f!reader) hungry* - @/endlessthxxghts (frankie morales x f!reader) stalemate* - @joelscurls (frankie morales x f!reader)

Javier Peña

use me* - @palioom (javier peña x f!reader) knead - @/tightjeansjavi (javier peña x f!reader) nights are so starry, blood moonlit* - @janaispunk (javier peña x f!reader)

Misc.

blue jean baby* - @fettuccin-e (agent whiskey x afab!fem!reader) peeta mellark: your loser boyfriend* - @zombatss (peeta mellark x afab!reader) more than friends* - @gracieheartspedro (best friend!ellie williams x f!reader) let me be needed* - @/luxurychristmaspudding (din djarin x f!sex worker!reader)

series

i know it when i see it* [part six*] - @bageldaddy (pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader) catfish* - @/tightjeansjavi (fisherman!frankie morales x bartender!reader) cherry thrill* [lights*] - @hellishjoel (tattoo artist!daddy dom!joel miller x virgin!sub!f!reader) the checklist* [hot & cold* // take my breath away* // what's in the bag*] - @thetriumphantpanda (joel miller x f!reader) your needs, my needs - @/gracieheartspedro (cowboy!joel miller x f!reader)

so sorry this is late :') i was having so many formatting issues lmao. thank you all for sharing your wonderful fics xx

#pascalpvnk fic recs #my talented moots <3 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[hh0320]

໑ — stars in the ceiling. pt I

pair. solo singer! felix x fem! reader (+ mentions of hyunjin)

genre. set in the 90’s, childhood friends to strangers, moving back, struggle with fame, angst, romance, smut.

warnings. profanity, smoking, alcohol/drug abuse, use of pet names, flawed characters, harsh language at times, dark themes, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, mental health issues.

word count. 6.2k

a/n. hi my loves! this is going to be a mini series, though i’m still not sure how many parts it will contain. nevertheless, pls treat this idea kindly, and don’t judge its characters too hard, they’ve gone through a lot. feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated and will be replied to! enjoy xx

‘Felix will be going back to Australia for a much needed break, sources close to him reveal. The twenty-three year old alt rock singer just concluded his second world tour, Doll, earlier this week in Los Angeles, with news of his breakup with supermodel Hwang Hyunjin coming out at the same time.

The two had been dating since the Aussie’s rise to fame in 1994.’

New South Wales had remained the same, despite the unshakeable change in Felix’s chest. Barina Road had the same houses standing, fifty-year-old trees stretching, widening into the sky, hiding his parent’s garage from view, the stairs leading up to the front door. He’d paid off the mortgage, bought them a new car.

The sun was beaming, February in full display. His manager greeted his mom, and introduced his assistant, explaining they would be staying at a hotel not too far from there. His father had a beard now, his sister looked taller, and wore glasses.

Your house was around the corner. He could see the rose bushes along the hill, the white shutters with the black outlines. Felix could close his eyes and go back to your room, 1992, the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, The Cure and The Smiths’ posters on pastel pink walls, lace trimming on your sheets, makeshift forts and flashlights at midnight, notebooks with hearts drawn on folded ends, his name and yours written next to each other, hand over hand. ‘Girl Afraid’ playing softly through a cassette in a beat down radio. Your dad’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, and the determination that rushed through Felix’s veins the moment he tasted them, the promise he’d made to himself to make those same cookies for you one day, to learn how.

He never did. His demo got picked up from a record label that would later refer him to the one he belongs to now, and he had to fly out to Melbourne right before your eighteenth birthday. From then on it’s been a shooting star.

He blinks to find his mother teary eyed, arms open. He doesn’t walk—he runs. Washed out silvery blonde locks long enough to be pulled in a ponytail, brown eyes the color of wild thyme honey, hands tired, heart broken. A boy coming home is a very old story, one that will never stop being written. And even though it feels strange to be back after five years of palm trees, everything and nothing—Hollywood, with its golden gates and trophies and nightmare people— it is exactly what he needed. It’s where he has to be.

“You look so tired, baby, so frail,” his mom sobs, pressing her mouth on his temple. “Did no one take care of you? Did no one care?”

Felix didn’t answer. He brought chocolates and clothes for his sisters, jewelry for his mother, Cuban cigars for his father, and his first ever Grammy for you, because none of this would’ve been possible if you hadn’t befriended him all those years ago in the playground. If your voice hadn’t guided him away from those swings and into the forest. If he hadn’t played hide and seek with the girl that wore ribbons in her hair, dark cherries for eyes. And what does he say knowing this?

I left behind the one person that did. That mattered that it did. And when I found something similar, I couldn’t hold it in my hands, I couldn’t get close to it no matter how much I tried.

“I missed you, mom,” he mumbles instead, and grinds his teeth to keep from crying. “I should’ve called more. I should’ve visited.”

The shorter woman sniffles and rubs her son’s back soothingly, shushing him only a mother knows how to. He breathes in her familiar scent, her cooking imprinted on her purple shirt, and smiles sadly. Hyunjin would’ve loved her; he wanted to meet her the most, wanted to hear all the stories when they were in bed together, what few times they were both sober, capable of adventure and conversation till the early hours of the next day. “I never had a mom,” he’d tell him, brown strands of hair escaping his staple bun. “Cherish your mom for me, Yongbokie. Love her terribly.”

“Come inside,” she tells him, waving away the rest. “Stay forever if you need to.”

“It means happiness,” he’d explained on that first meeting with the boy shining more brightly than the chandelier lighting the entire theater. “Yongbok.”

The boy had smiled and it’d made all the difference. His lips reminded Felix of black cherries, of the girl in the room with the window overlooking the trees. “I know what it means. It’s about time I met you.”

Time away from chaos felt empty. The hours passed by slowly, serenity made him paranoid, like it couldn’t possibly last, even there, in a different continent, across the globe. Getting on an airplane didn’t guarantee you’d get away, he realized soon enough. It wasn’t possible, because you can’t outrun yourself.

And it was that Felix was trying to escape. How known he’d become, how aware of his own shadow he was. At first, he’d thought of it as a mountain to climb, something to be achieved, and then something else. It was a ladder leading up, up, up and nowhere specific, but he climbed it anyway. The little prize in his hands was the ultimate show, that one last thing he had to do that would grant him access to more of the same everything and nothing everyone else seemed to be so desperately after. After he’d won it, the decision to leave it all behind became clearer than ever.

A lot of the people he admired had died. And it didn’t matter which way you looked, destruction came in the form of white powder, accompanied by a spoon or a syringe if you were brave enough and had much to lose. “Take your pick, there’s many ways to kill yourself,” a girl had told him once at an afterparty. Young and impressionable as he was he chose by what he saw and picked up the bottle of champagne in front of him. The least harmful, he’d thought. But the sneakiest one of all. And then he saw Hyunjin smoking cigarettes after one of his fashion shows, and thought to try that too. Then it felt like something they could share, so Felix kept smoking until the cough subsided and his fingers smelled of tobacco. 

One thing the model never tried to do was shield him from the horrible ways of the industry, and the blonde still can’t find it in himself to castrate him for it. Now, so many thousands of miles away as he was, the habits seemed to follow, like supportive friends. The world is a fucked up place, but it doesn’t seem so bad from where he sits on the rooftop of his childhood house. He could drop the stick from his hand, or break the golden trophy and even deny the existence of evil altogether.

How easy, how vulnerable fame is. You could be no one in particular if you made all the right choices. Felix wasn’t sure why he seemed to do the opposite, walk the other way, the reason for his selective blindness. When something shiny has your name on it you hold it close to your chest and sing to it. It’s precious because it reflects light off it.

Until when?

Your light was on. 

He looked for it, looked for a car coming up the hill, watched the sun set, the blending of colors, how majestic it can all get before it fades to black, but you showed up right in the blue of it. You still drove the same Jeep your dad had gifted you for graduation, but your hair was longer, you’d grown a bit. Felix saw how your white dress danced in the summer breeze, ran his eyes down your tanned legs as you walked from your driveway inside your house, and finally, about ten minutes after that, the light through your curtains.

His mother hadn’t mentioned he was back.

He smiles down at his burning cigarette. How would he ever face you with the way he left? He never called, only wrote to you on your birthday, and released a song about a starry girl that visited his dreams, knowing very well that girl waited for him for years to return, even if just for a little while. The guilt of never doing so, and instead loving someone else so all consumingly, while that same song went on to become his best selling single, the song he’d be known for for years to come? It crippled him.

He never wanted to see your face stare back at him. He would rather die, and he admits this to himself bravely. You were his first girl, his only girl. No one would ever come close to you, because you’re clean—you have his innocence, his first time, before he knew anything about anything, and how despite it, he loved you stupidly, earnestly, because it made sense, because it felt right.

“Starry girl, will you burn bright, for me tonight? Oh, will you stay a little while, darling girl…”

How hypocritical. If Chan was around he’d be calling him out, or pushing him down the fucking roof. Felix wouldn’t even mention the broken leg or the dislocated shoulder, because it’d serve him right. Perhaps he needs a solid reminder of his aliveness, of how doing wrong by someone and paying for it feels like. La La Land doesn’t have that, it couldn’t possibly understand that. There, people look up and never down. There, they would push, and keep pushing; they would climb over, step on your neck, tear you apart at the seams for a chance to just keep.looking.up. That climb is all there is.

It’s empty too, but you learn how to miss it.

Felix thinks he might’ve sold his fucking soul, somehow, because as he gets back in the house, his mind won’t stop screaming for him to run away from there as well.

Not a place that could hold someone that’s had everything and then more of it.

Chan hates his guts twice as much as you possibly ever could, but Felix calls him anyway.

“Hello?”

“Chris. It’s me.”

A long pause. The singer falters, thinks he’s made a mistake, curses himself for ever thinking anyone would want anything to do with him after—

“You’re a fucking cunt, Felix, and I hope you burn in Hell. Sincerely.” The blonde nods, his chest tight, his throat dry. “How are you?”

He smiles. “Terrible. Fucking awful, mate, thanks for asking.”

“Good.”

“I’m in Australia.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Your white dress flows in his dreams. It folds and stretches like the wings of a butterfly. The pages of his journal stare at him, his eyes heavy with sleep, but for once nothing pours out. He thinks he’s meant to keep that to himself, and perhaps that’s okay.

Instead he writes about a broken boy that smiles for the cameras but never for his love.

His older sister works as an intern for a law firm. He didn’t know that, because he never asked. The sting of it burns all the same.

She has a fiance, is preparing to buy a house, and tells him of his mom’s sickness at a private restaurant. He didn’t know that either, but in all fairness, as his sister pointed out, no one is supposed to know. At least not yet. It’s treatable, she quickly adds, but it’s been eating her from the inside out for a couple years now. She tells him this with a straight face, probably because she’s had time to sit with it, but also because Rachel is great at keeping her feelings in check, when she knows someone else isn’t—Felix definitely fucking isn’t.

What was the saying? The artist is haunted by his own heart? Day and night. There’s never an escape, it seems, from anything.

“Tell me what I need to do,” he pleads after he calms down. “Money is not a problem.”

The older sibling grimaces at that. “It’s not about that, Lix. She has medication, she never misses a doctor’s appointment. Her body is weak.”

“She’s not dying.”

“It’s not something we can exactly stop because we want to.”

Felix clenches his fists on the table, and looks at his sister straight on. “She’s not dying.”

Rachel wipes her mouth and sips from her wine, alerting the waiter for the check. People are starting to stare. No matter where they go, eyes follow her little brother incessantly, whichever measures they take. It’s a lifestyle she cannot comprehend.

Felix doesn’t seem to notice, or care. It’s a strange thing, like a zoo animal being at peace with its captivity, despite its true nature.

“Maybe not now,” she replies softly. “But we all must face this one impending doom sooner or later, Lix. Even you. Even our mom. Death is a natural thing.”

Most people run from the inevitable, because it’s scary. Somehow, it’s believed that the end, too, could be overturned if we stall it, or cheat it. Felix never thought he’d have to worry about it, because of the invisibility of youth, and money, and having everything else at his beck and call. It was only when Kurt Cobain and Jeff Buckley died that he was touched by the cruelty of it, the dark shadows and the claws attacking through them any moving thing, at any given time. Even legends passed, even history.

It was because life was so impossibly fleeting, water held with two hands, that he decided to knock on your door. In a single moment of liquid luck, he wished to see the stars in your ceiling again. To feel the warmth of your skin near his. Chan would shake his head and call him an idiot for it, but Felix never claimed to be reasonable. Or smart.

No other car was in your driveway.

God, his blood is rushing. You’d open the door and then what? What would he say?

He didn’t want his mom to die. He didn’t want you to hate him forever. He came back with a false sense of ego—no one gave a flying fuck if he was famous, or best friends with Hope Sandoval and Chris Cornell, hell, even Jesus Christ himself. None of it mattered outside of the bubble he’d created for himself in America. He’s not from there. These people would follow him nowhere.

He feels stranded and alone, and it’s entitled and pathetic, and he’s fucking terrified.

Who is he besides his name and his money? Why does it matter so much?

The door opens. He’s holding his breath.

You gape. Then blink.

Another moment passes. He has to say something. Goddamnit, anything!

“(Y/N).”

You seem to snap out of it, then. As if you realize it’s, indeed, not a dream. Felix is really standing right in front of you, blonde hair, round honey eyes, constellations on his cheeks as prominent as ever.

It’s confusion you feel more than anything else. Anger has long passed.

“How long have you been here?” is the first thing you ask him, and you’re still not allowing him inside.

He doesn’t expect you to.

“On your doorstep? An hour.”

You blink again, and lean forward, surprised. He thinks that must not be what you asked him. His ears burn. Your chest rises and falls deeply.

“In Australia, Lix,” you elaborate, but he focuses on the way your voice sounds like saying his childhood nickname, a silly little thing that stuck and makes him feel eight all over again.

You’d fallen in the rose bushes with your bike, the thorns pricking your arms, and you’d called out for him, crying. Lix, Lix, Lix… The sweetest sound, a person worthy to help you. A different time. He’d spent the rest of his afternoon picking thorns out of your skin and tending to your cuts with his mom. Afterwards, you watched Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and ate a bowl full of caramel popcorn. His dad dropped you off, and Felix had insisted on sticking his head out of his bedroom window to shout a final goodnight to you.

You’d done the same, laughing. His bestest friend in the whole world.

He didn’t feel like that person anymore. He didn’t feel like anything anymore. Just a name, just a body.

“Fourteen days,” he replies, and he’s ashamed of it, because it should’ve been easier to come to you. It should’ve never been difficult, not with you. 

It was you, for fuck’s sake.

And then you ask him the one thing he has no answer to.

“Are you okay?”

You move for him to enter. It’s what he wanted, but his legs have no strength in them, he’s unable to lift them. He just stands in front of you, staring in those eyes he’s wanted to look into for so long, and it reminds him of all the times he laid in hotel beds trying to bring forward his memories of your features, writing them all down so he doesn’t forget. He wrote those songs to remember you, is what he wants to tell you, but he can’t, because it’d make him a coward, and he doesn’t think he can handle anymore truths tonight.

They call him an angel because of his face, but you’re the angelic one, you’ve always been, because there’s forgiveness in your tone. There’s warmth for him in you still, and it takes everything in him not to sweep you in his arms and cry out for you, for your heart.

He wants to tell you about Hyunjin, too, about his garden and his flowers. He wants to tell you he named one after you, the most beautiful. He kept that for himself as well.

Instead—

“I wanted to watch the stars on your ceiling.”

The possibility that you might’ve taken them down is devastating. He hopes inevitably.

His voice sounds rough, and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. You’ve never seen Felix like that, he looked so sickly. Paper thin, too. You wonder if that life over there caught up to him, if he allowed it to wash over everything you loved about him. He’s such a stripped down, quiet version of him right now, in front of you.

“I’ll make some milkshakes,” you nod towards the kitchen.

He finally lifts one leg, then the other. He enters, his heart dusting off, kickstarting.

They still taste the same. The furniture is the same, the pictures of him and you and your siblings are still on the wall. You haven’t erased him, you didn’t scorn him. It means everything to him.

It’s easier to find yourself if someone already knows who you are. If they’ve kept that image of you, and look at it from time to time. Felix never sees himself in photos, never actively seeks himself out. He just gives, and gives, and gives, hoping it’s enough, hoping that’s it, the one, we got it, thank you very much.

Perhaps it’s why he feels so drained nowadays. Perhaps that’s how Hyunjin felt.

“How are your parents?” he asks, hoping to make conversation, hoping to hear more of that voice he’s missed so fucking much.

You round the kitchen island, strawberry shake in hand, and sit right next to him, knee brushing his. Your legs are bare again, smooth. You’re wearing an olive green skirt and an oversized T-shirt. You look beautiful. You, the starry girl. You, the darling girl. You, the only version of girl he’s had in his mind since the dawn of time. Ring pop in the fifth grade, backyard wedding with a veil and all. His mother had cried, yours had baked the cake. His sister had married you.

There’s a question in your eyes now.

“They’re fine. Out celebrating their thirtieth anniversary or something crazy like that.”

It’s a wild thing, the laugh that escapes him. It stretches his face and curves his lips. It surprises both of you. He quickly looks at his chocolate milkshake, at the half eaten whipped cream at the top. He hears your soft exhale, the straw between your teeth.

“Good for them,” he says after a beat, and he means it.

“You…” Felix doesn’t dare look. He won’t. Your counter is marble, there are fresh lilies on top of it. “Are you staying a while?”

He nods. Struggles to swallow.

Then you sigh. The pretenses are down. He stiffens, wraps his fingers tighter around the glass. He braces, but he doesn’t know for what. Anything, he supposes. You could say anything, ask anything.

He just doesn’t know if he has any answers for you.

“Congrats on that Grammy,” you bump him with your elbow, your tone light. His eyes rise slightly to meet yours. You’re smiling.

He wants nothing more than to fall apart, right there. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“It’s yours,” he mutters. “I was going to give it to you.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “It’s your song, Lix.”

He shakes his head once. “But it’s for you. I’d be nothing without you.”

The room goes silent. Felix thinks he’s done it, he’s said the wrong thing, pushed too much, you’re going to kick him out, once and for all, and he’s going to have to look at you from his rooftop for the rest of his stay, he’s going to have to live with himself, whatever’s left, whatever’s there, never to hear your voice, never a third chance—

“Do you usually say intense things like that?” You huff out a breath, and his own gets stuck in his throat. “I’m— No one’s ever said that to me before, Lix. Don’t just say stuff like that.”

Suddenly, six years have passed, and you’re both adults. Felix has had a whole other life, has met thousands and thousands of people, is a celebrity of great importance, a Grammy winner, a million seller, with more money than he will ever need, this unbelievable thing has happened to him, a dream, a fucking rainbow bubble, and you’ve stayed here.

You’re still the same. And you don’t think that’s worth mentioning. Worth praising. He wants to shake you awake, make you see why he’s dead inside, why he’s come back, why he’s lost his fucking mind.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, his gaze meeting yours. “If I’d never met you, I would have never gone to America. I would’ve never left.”

Somehow, you’ve become a curse and a miracle. 

“Let’s go see the stars, Felix.”

Your room is the exact same, too. Not a single damn thing moved, the lace on your bed, the pink all around, the fairy lights by your window, the pictures above your desk, and then finally, if he lifts his head—

The hundreds of tiny stars sprinkled on your entire ceiling. Your dad had stuck them up there for you, after you’d gone to their bed crying, afraid of the dark and the storm outside. Now, with the lights off, you didn’t seem afraid anymore, but more so melancholic. It felt unreal to stand in this room with you. 

First time he’d made love to you was on that bed. First sleepover, first fort, first kiss, first song ever written.

He didn’t even realize he’d been crying, not until he felt your fingers wipe the wetness away, your hand slipping in his, pulling him towards the mattress. Before coming back, he didn’t have a bed of his own. Hotel’s have been temporary homes for him, the tour bus his sleepovers.

His chest hurt, his sadness so heavy it pulled him down. There was no fight left in him, no other reason not to fall on that bed with you, lay next to you just like all those years before.

They shone neon green, alien little stars where they didn’t belong. Like him. He blinked up at them and they greeted him every time. He held your hand tightly on his own, his vision blurry, shoulders touching yours. If it was hot, Felix couldn’t tell. His heartbeat was deafening, the magnitude of the moment swallowing him whole.

No matter what he did, what had happened, you took his hand and showed him the stars of his childhood. There’s no words to describe what that had felt like for someone like him, someone that had once been something entirely different, and had somehow reduced himself down to this, whatever it was.

Three versions of oneself is two versions too many. He hates himself for what he’s done.

“Are you okay, Lix?” you ask once more, nothing but a mere whisper, but he hears you.

He thinks he might even have an answer for you.

“I don’t think so, beautiful girl. I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

Felix sighs, puts an arm over his eyes. It’s enough, what he saw. It’s enough for a lifetime.

“Leaving you behind. Giving all of me away. Falling in love with a broken boy thinking I’ll be able to fix him. I can’t fix anyone, (Y/N). I can’t even fix my fucking self.”

You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. The connection is still there, the tension in his gut. He’d love nothing more than to get you naked and have you whisper his name back, over and over, until he gets some sort of sense of reality back. But it wouldn’t be fair to you. He doesn’t even know if you’re single.

“No one’s holding anything over your head, Lix. Forgive yourself before it’s too late,” you mumble against his skin, raising goosebumps all over. Then you continue, “I’d be lying if I said I don’t still hate you sometimes. You’re going to leave again, anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

He turns to that immediately. Places a palm over your cheek and makes you look at him.

“It does matter. I don’t want you to hate me. I fucked up and I’ll regret it my whole life. There’s no amount of sorry’s I can say to you, sweet girl, that’ll make it all better. I know that. But I don’t want you to hate me.”

Quiet. Your pulse against his thigh. “You left.”

“I did.”

“That hurt me. All of us.”

Felix nodded, again and again. One truth harsher than the other. “I know.”

“To go fuck some model in New York and sing your little heart out to people that’ll never know who you truly are and how much you matter.”

There it was. The sacrifice of it all. Has it been worth it? Yes and no. Mostly no.

His lips curved with bitterness. “Yes,” he rasped.

“But now your songs are out there. Your beautiful voice is recognized.”

“Thank you.”

You buried your face in the mattress, crying onto strawberry sheets. He turned his body towards you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“You sold your own name.”

Dying would be less painful than you speaking all of his fears and wrong decisions outloud, in the one place untouched by misery.

“And I pay for that every day.”

“You’re not happy.”

He smiles when you search for his eyes. There are crystals on your cheeks, the cosmos hanging from your lips. “Not particularly, starry girl,” he retorts sadly.

“I’m not happy, either. What’s the point, then?”

It tore at him to know this. He imagined you were when he was far away. That you’d put him behind you, and continued on with your life, shining just as brightly as you always had. Lies are always easier in the moment. Just enough to get you through to the next. But never long term.

“Come with me,” he whispers in your hair. “See for yourself.”

“And get lost, too?” you snap back.

He shut his eyes tight, bit his tongue to lessen the blow. “Three months. I want to take you with me.”

“To the City of Angels.” A lyric of his, coming from your mouth. His heart leaped, and blossomed. You listen to his music. The music he’s written for you.

“You’ll fit right in,” he finishes, leaning into you. “You’ll find many like you, none like you.”

He felt your hesitancy, the need to pull away. He would do it for you, if he wasn’t so completely under your spell, willing to do anything for one more taste of you. Years in a place where he’s had to learn to get his way, have made him somewhat persuasive, a trait he’s not proud of, like many others.

The only girl he’s ever truly wanted is you. Burn him alive, then.

“God, I’m about to make a mistake,” you mutter before his mouth takes yours.

Hyunjin had asked about you. He wanted to know who you were, why you still had such a hold on him. Hyunjin had been possessive and jealous and sensitive with Felix. He felt deeply, loved deeply, and was very stubborn. He loved getting his way. The blonde tried to love him, gave him all he had, obliged to his every request, but ultimately—

Whatever was wrong with him ran too deep. It was impossible to love someone like him, yet so easy to fall, so easy to lose yourself. They’d done some work together, traveled to Paris and visited art museums. Hyunjin was a magnificent artist, a lonely soul. Felix could recognize that in him and still admit it was scary to be around him, scary in the way a rope feels under your bare feet, no ground underneath, no sense of security.

They broke up on a bench outside Sacré-Cœur, the decision to go back to Australia for an indefinite amount of time being too much for the model. There was still love there, there’d always be. Hyunjin taught him about the life he’d entered, how to navigate through it, to get what you want, and how to love unconditionally, how to become a slave for love, to seek it and to breathe it, and to feel it deep in your gut, with everything in you.

But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t be all encompassing, choking, tying. It should feel like freedom, and this much Felix knew, because he’d felt it before.

Undressing you right now felt like that, the pearly gates welcoming him, the wings growing in his back. A map outlined but not quite yet explored, though he plans to change that. If you accept. If you agree to his proposal. His hands caress, his mouth following the fabric leaving your body, your breast, down to your stomach, your navel, your hip bone. 

He pulls your skirt down, revealing cotton, and lays you gently back down, his own body over yours, hiding you from view. Your fingers unzip and push, and Felix removes his shirt for you. He knows he’s not much to look at, but there’s lean muscle and a solid chest where you touch, making heat bloom right under your fingertips. He could write odes about how soft your skin is, how tender you’re treating him, as if he never left, as if he’s never done wrong by you, and for a minute he pretends.

Then your hand wraps around his cock and he loses all restrain.

“You can’t possibly be real, my girl, are you?” he mumbles against your cunt, before he hooks his arms underneath your legs and digs right into your wetness.

You moan and writhe, and he never complies. He holds you tighter, keeps you in place and has his way with you until you’re begging him to stop, crying for him to keep going, nails digging into his scalp, his shoulders, anywhere you can reach. Felix hasn’t eaten pussy in six months, hasn’t had yours in over five years, and he’s not about to give it up for anything in the fucking world. 

His tongue laps, it fucks you slowly, it makes sure to get you proper wet for him, his lips slurping on your clit afterwards, finding a pattern you seem to enjoy, sucking to bring your orgasm forward and licking to settle you down, to tease you, until finally you have enough of it, and you come all over his mouth, breathlessly, your thighs trapping his head between your legs.

“Just for me, for me, for me…” he repeats peppering kisses all over you, his arms pushing him up towards your mouth, meeting you halfway for an open mouthed kiss. “Will you come?” he asks, pumping his cock in his fist, aligning it with your entrance. “My sweet fucking girl, will you come?”

“I have,” you say, hiding your face in embarrassment. “I did.”

“Let me look at you,” as he pushes in. “Let me see you, baby.”

His hips start moving, his cock reaching deep inside you, the stretch incredible. He needs you near, closer, so he lifts you up and repositions himself, having you sit on him, fucking yourself on him how you like. You find a rhythm as he wraps himself around you, kissing your breast, sucking on your nipples, tugging at the ends of your hair. Anything he can touch, all for you. Your voice breaks, his name cut in half, and he thinks he likes it best like that, not one thing but two, muttered by you, the death of him once and for all.

“Will you come with me to California?” he asks again, clearer this time. “Will you let me have you like this under their sun?”

“Lix…” you collapse as he takes charge, pistoling up into your soaking cunt, his cock so deep inside, so fucking good. “Fuck, please. Just please.”

“You need to tell me,” he groans. “I need to know. You need to tell me.”

He pushes you forward again, not once unsticking you from himself, and fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast. He’s after your high, he needs to see you, needs to witness you fall apart because of him, the same way he does for you, his muse, his girl, under your stars. You kiss him and hold him near, sharing his breath, his chest rapidly falling and rising, cock ready to burst, heart ready to explode, and you’re near too, he can feel it in his gut, he can see how your back arches, how your breath hitches, how your eyes open wide, head thrown back—

“That’s it, there it is, do it. Do it, beautiful, come for me, come on, let me feel you, God, fuck—I’ll bust, too, I’ll—”

“Inside,” you moan, shaking in his arms. “Inside me.”

Felix growls and does as you say, fingers digging into your waist, cock buried, and his head falls on your stomach. He’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack, but nothing matters. You’re underneath him, naked. You still love him. You haven’t said it but you don’t have to; he can feel it, he can feel it like his own pulse.

He fucks you through the ripples of your orgasm, and then he pulls out, kissing your temple, your breast on his chest. Whatever dreams are made out of, he’s convinced you’re it. His dream, a girl just for him, a girl he could pick out blindfolded from a crowd of thousands. He would always come back to you, because there’s simply no beginning to him if you’re not part of it.

And no end if you don’t come with him.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me no,” he whispers into the dark, the stars staring back. “I’ll understand. I’ll make it work, there’s no question about it. Not anymore.”

You’re quiet for a long time, but your lips kiss his jaw, his neck, his ear. He holds onto sanity because of that. Because he’s lying through his teeth, for the first time. He won’t understand. If you don’t come, he’s not sure he’ll be able to carry on with this persona he’s built. It will destroy him, take him down under.

That he’s sure of.

But he thinks of your precious heart. What it would be like to leave it all behind.

“I’ll come,” you say incredibly small, almost inaudible. “I’ll come if you want me there.”

Felix closes his eyes, relief washing over him. No more suffering, endless tossing and turning. He could finally have a life, maybe buy some property, make a house out of you. With you. With you. It sounded unachievable. A wish unable to be granted. Merely anything.

You’re breathing it all back to him.

“I need you there, starry girl. I love you.”

He feels you nod, but you don’t say it back. It cuts through him, but he understands. He doesn’t need to hear it, despite how desperate he is for it. It pours out of you, it started when you opened the door, and it continues to pour out now, with his cum gushing out of your cunt, your arm hugging him tightly, afraid to let go.

“Three months,” you say. “Please don’t make me regret it, Lix.”

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @streetlight-s, @j-0ne25.

#straykidsland #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix skz #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #felix x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunlix #mine.

[femmefatalevibe]

How to ooze sex appeal even though I have a baby face (I'm in my mid twenties) and have a girl next girl vibe? I was told I have a bad girl type energy when flirting but that's it lol.

Confidence!!

Having a playful personality

Maintaining a tactile sensibility; Holding your head in your hands, touching your arm, stroking the keys of piano or fabric, etc. in a way that shows your ability to appreciate sensations

Holding eye contact, smiling, laughing, making slightly edgy yet appropriate and subtle, clever jokes (when people question the implication and it can be contested, that's when you know it landed correctly)

Dressing in clothes that fit your body well and make you feel confident

Maintaining excellent hygiene: Clean & hydrated nails, skin, teeth, nails, etc.

Makeup that highlights your features with a little vampiness (smokier eye, darker lip, etc.)

A sensual fragrance that matches your skin chemistry

Red-toned nails – either bright or dark cherry

Being comfortable with yourself and not living to impress others, only yourself

Displaying empathy without emotionally attaching yourself to the outcomes of other people's personal circumstances

Being unapologetically passionate about hobbies, interests, causes, etc. that matter to you

Hope this helps xx

#sex appeal #female sexuality #sexuality #self confidence #self esteem #self improvement #glow up #glow up era #femmefatalevibe #q/a

[blankat]

4 times y/n is late

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: 4 lil' stories (in chronological order) in which y/n is late in different situations.

warnings: fluff, mention of a shapeshifted penis(?)

a/n: i felt like sh!t so i wrote something lmao, also it's not proofread so excuse my mistakes lmao xx

“Fuck Larissa! I’m late!” you hurried out of your shared bedroom, putting on your clothes on the way to the kitchen to fetch some coffee before leaving. Larissa whined, still in your bed, tucked under the warmth of your fluffy blankets. “Hmm, late from where?” she groggily asked, voice just loud enough for you to hear from the kitchen. “From work! God, how did we sleep in?” You asked, rather yourself, than your girlfriend, pouring your coffee into a to-go cup, returning to the bedroom to Larissa. “Wish you could stay home instead. Call in sick, darling.” she grabbed your arm, pulling you down so you were laying on top of her, your faces incredibly close. She grinned and caressed your cheek, planting a little kiss to your nose. “Ha! Says the workaholic!” you laughed, “But seriously, Rissa. I need to go.” You kissed her softly, grabbing your phone, sliding it into your pocket. “Hurry back home, I’ll be so, so lonely without you here.” Larissa pouted and you laughed, letting go of her hand, standing up. “Promise, baby.” you whispered, leaving your girlfriend in the bedroom, heading to work. 

You were sitting in Larissa’s lap in her office, looking out the window, where you saw some Nevermore students with their phones placed against the wall, dancing in front of the device. “What are they even doing?” you furrowed your brows and Larissa just chuckled before squeezing your hands. “A TikTok.” said the headmistress simply.

“Say that again?” you got even more confused, looking at Larissa who couldn’t help but laugh a little again. “Don’t laugh at me, Woman! Elaborate. What is a TokTok? “No, not TokTok. They’re doing a TikTok. It’s a platform where people dance and lip sync to different songs. Or just upload short videos. It can be really fun.” Larissa said confidently, like she’s been on this platform for ages, and somehow you got even more confused. “Wait, do you use this platform? Tik Tok?” you raised your brows, and your girlfriend pulled out her phone, opening the application for you, where the first thing you saw was some guy telling tips on how to propose to your partner. Larissa quickly snatched her phone from your hand, closing the app, her cheeks red as a cherry. “Well, there are some trash videos as well, the algorithm is not working properly sometimes.” she said awkwardly, not even looking at you. “Well I hope you weren’t planning on proposing to me with the help of a TikTok, Larissa.” you grinned and she just raised her eyebrows at you. “Why would I propose to an asshole like you?” “Ouch, I was just trying to be funny, baby. Tell me, do you dance in front of your phone as well?” you smirked. “Hmm, sometimes. When you’re not home and I’m bored.” she smiled and kissed your neck, your eyes widened a bit at her revelation. “God, I am so late to these trends, I start to think I might be old.”

“Late, late, late! We are always late! Just fantastic!” you yelled while frantically packing your suitcase for your 2-week vacation with Larissa, the woman laughing at you from the doorway. “You are the one who doesn’t have their bags packed. Besides, we still have 2 hours until the train leaves.” she walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Don’t stress so much, darling. It’ll make you lose your beautiful hair.” “I just want everything to be perfect. It’s been so long that we could enjoy some free time. Just the two of us.” you mumbled as you turned around in her arms, kissing her softly. “I know dearest, I know. But what matters is that we’re finally free. No work, no kids, no annoying colleagues, just us.” Larissa kissed you again, cupping your cheeks, smiling into the kiss. The only thing you need to do this summer is to enjoy Larissa’s presence and have her in all the possible ways you can.

By the time Larissa got home, you were incredibly close to a nervous breakdown on your bathroom floor, staring into nothing. “Darling? I’m home!” You heard Larissa yell for you. Normally, you would greet her with a tight hug and a lovely kiss but this time you weren’t, therefore Larissa knew something was up. “Y/N? Are you alright, baby?” She walked around your shared apartment looking for you. When she spotted you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, she gave you a worried look. Looking around the room, she quickly realized you were sick, as she noticed the puke in your hair and in the toilet as well. “Y/N, are you sick? Where does it hurt?” She carefully sat down next to you, flushing the toilet and tying up your hair, running  a hand down your back to offer you some comfort. “Lar- Larissa?” you mumbled groggily, almost puking again from the taste in your mouth. “Yes, darling? It’s okay, let it out. Did you eat something bad?” your fiancée asked with worry in her voice. “N-no Larissa, I’m-” you swallowed, looking at her with teary eyes. “Shhh, It’s okay, I know you hate throwing up. I will clear out the fridge first thing tomorrow, to prevent you from eating anything bad again.

“No, Larissa, there’s no need fo-” “No, you just lay down, and I’ll do-” “Larissa I’m late.” you whispered, without the usual wrath in your voice. Larissa raised her eyebrows. “Late to what, darling?” she caressed your arm, not really understanding what you wanted to say. “No, I’m- My period. I was supposed to get my period 2 weeks ago.” your voice has never been this quiet. “W-what?” Larissa’s hand rested on your cheek, slowly caressing it while she tried to process the information. “I-uhm, do you rem-remember when we, we, uhm a few months ago you shape- uhm, shapeshifted-” you stuttered and felt like throwing up again. “Yes, yes I do. Have you taken any tests yet?” she asked softly, not releasing your cheek. “N-no, I wasn’t sure I could do it alone.” you said quietly, a silent tear running down your cheek. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll take a few tests, okay baby?” Larissa was so gentle with you, you could cry.

After Larissa helped you shower, you brushed your teeth while she got a few pregnancy tests, handing you them and waiting at the other side of the door. After about 30 minutes, which felt like 3 hours, you opened the bathroom door. Larissa stood up immediately, rushing over to you, asking you silently. “Well, if these gadgets are trustworthy, we’re going to be mommies.” you smiled fondly at Larissa, tears streaming down your face. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, kissing all over your face, planting a final long kiss onto your lips. “Oh my darling, Y/N, I love you more than anything and I am so excited to begin this journey with you.”

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #reader insert

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: language, angst.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

Another three weeks had passed, and Y/N willed their bad luck wouldn’t strike again tonight. Their last attempt at a second date saw her bedridden with the flu and doubly miserable at another failed attempt to rekindle a relationship with Dean. He had been understanding and told her to rest and drink plenty of fluids, but she knew he must be just as frustrated as she was that Lady Luck seemed to have abandoned all hope on their second chance.

Today though, Y/N felt fit and healthy, Dean wasn’t on shift, and she was spending hers in an empty office catching up on paperwork and overtime claims. She’d instructed her staff to only disturb her if it was absolutely necessary. If things finally went their way, neither should be stuck or injured at work this time, and that thought gave her hope that this would finally be it.

Dean was full of nervous energy and decided the best way to use it up was to give Baby a long overdue tune-up, clean and polish. It was perfect timing, too, because then she would be looking her best when he took Y/N out to the fanciest restaurant Lawrence had to offer, and by the time he was finished, he’d be a few hours closer to his date with Y/N; it was a win-win.

He wasn’t surprised she’d gotten sick and had to cancel last time. The whole day fate hadn’t been working in his favour, so when her text came through, it was the cherry on top of what had been a really fucking shitty day. When he called her later to see how she was, she sounded dreadful, and he’d immediately offered to come over and look after her. Y/N declined, saying all that would achieve was him getting sick too, and then their date would have to be postponed for even longer.

Knowing Y/N was working today made him a little apprehensive that something would crop up at the last second and force another rain check. Still, he was trying to keep that niggling thought buried. And so, with a coffee-filled travel mug, Dean made his way outside with his tools and got to work sprucing up his second best girl.

Her message came in at 4pm.

Y/NCheck the news. I’m so sorry, De xx

Dean closed his eyes in frustration and huffed loudly at their atrocious luck. Turning on the news, he watched the aftermath of an overturned lorry on the freeway, blocking the road in both directions and multiple vehicles colliding with it or other vehicles.

“So far,” the news anchor reported, “there have been five fatalities and over twenty people with injuries of varying severity, and several people are still trapped in their vehicles. Emergency workers are doing all they can to free them, with relief crews being called in to assist.

“Meanwhile, Lawrence Memorial Hospital is nearing its emergency patient capacity and has set up an outdoor triage area for the walking wounded, keeping the hospital building free for those with more serious injuries that need attending to.”

His cell rang shortly after, and Dean was only briefly disappointed that it wasn’t Y/N. He knew she’d be swamped, and he probably wouldn’t hear from her until everyone from the accident had been treated. Still, he had a sliver of hope that it might’ve been her.

“Bobby, I just saw the news,” Dean answered the call.

“So you know why I’m calling?” Bobby said, his question rhetorical. “I’m sorry to ask you to work when you’re supposed to have plans tonight…”

“It’s fine. Y/N’s on shift and already sent me a text cancelling. It’ll be all hands on deck at the hospital, so I might as well come in. At least it’ll stop me from drowning my sorrows,” Dean chuckled sadly.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sure you’ll get that date soon,” Bobby replied, but right now, that wasn’t much comfort to the younger man.

“I’m starting to think we should just cut our losses. Maybe something’s trying to tell us something,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean-”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten,” Dean cut in, not feeling in the mood to hear another person say how perfect they were for each other when the simple task of going on a date seemed impossible.

It would be a long night, but at least he’d have work to keep him from spiralling down the self-depreciation hole he usually did when Y/N had to cancel plans.

With all trapped persons rescued and the accident site secured by police and awaiting cleanup, Dean’s Firehouse had been posted to the triage area at the hospital to help wherever possible. They were giving first aid, handing out food and water, and checking up on patients in the hospital on behalf of concerned family and friends who were outside waiting for news of their loved ones.

He’d even got to speak to Y/N briefly a few times, and those little moments of light in what was otherwise a dark situation had kept his spirits up. And now that the last few patients were being treated, he finally felt he could breathe easier. Maybe, he’d even be able to convince Y/N to go for a bite to eat before they both went home and slept.

Trawling through the hospital’s hallways, Dean’s only focus was finding the nurse who was slowly taking hold of his heart again and taking up most of his thoughts since coming back to town. He almost missed her as he turned another corner and walked down another corridor.

Stepping back to the room he’d just passed, Dean paused at the window, praying he was wrong and that the woman sitting on the floor, arms crossed over her legs and head on her knees, wasn’t Y/N. Opening the door and quietly stepping into the room, his heart ached at the realisation that it was her and that the usually strong and kept-together nurse was in tears.

“Hey, Princess, what’s the matter?” Dean asked, making his way over and crouching in front of her. Y/N looked at him, eyes red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears, and he threw all caution to the wind as he sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

They remained embraced on the floor for a while before Y/N’s tears stopped, and she’d stopped gasping in shallow breaths between her heartwrenching sobs. Dean was at a loss on what to do at first, but then he remembered that this was Y/N. His Y/N. And though she was stronger than she looked and more capable than people gave her credit for, sometimes the only way she could process her emotions was to cry.

“Sorry, I needed that,” Y/N eventually spoke and wiped at her eyes. “Days like this, when we lose so many people, never get easier to process. Sometimes I just need a little time to cry it all out.”

“No need to explain to me, Princess. I’ve known you my whole life, and I know that if you don’t let it out now, it’ll eat away at you and eventually consume you. I’ll always be here to ground you whenever you feel like that, alright?”

“Thank, De,” she sniffled and smiled softly at him. “I suppose we should get back out there, huh?”

“In a few minutes. The last patients are being treated, and Ellen, Jody, and Bobby have called a staff briefing at 5am. We’ve got a little time to calm you down some more,” Dean kissed her forehead and smiled, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter and pulling her into his body a little closer.

After urging everyone who’d gathered for the briefing in the hospital canteen to have something to eat before they went home, Dr Ellen Harvelle, Charge Nurse Rowena Macleod, Sheriff Jody Mills, and Fire Chief Bobby Singer thanked their staff for the exceptional job they’d all done in the face of such tragedy and dismissed them from their duties. Reserve police officers and firefighters had started their shifts early to allow those who’d worked all night to go home and rest.

The doctors, nurses and hospital staff who’d been on shift when the accident happened or been called in as backup would be relieved by those who’d either volunteered to stay and work a double shift or agreed to come in on a rest day.

Dean got to have breakfast with Y/N after all, but they were joined by Benny, Bobby, and Jody. He couldn’t complain, though, as he saw the smile come back to Y/N’s face as she talked to Jody and playfully rolled her eyes at Benny’s southern charm and blatant flirting. Dean didn’t rise to the Cajun’s bait, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

“Now, I know you’re a workaholic, Y/N, but please tell me you didn’t volunteer to stay on?” Uncle Bobby asked with the stern look that never made her listen to him when she was a child and certainly wouldn’t make her listen to him now.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been working for…” Y/N glanced at the fob watch attached to her scrub top pocket, “twenty-three and half hours. If I stay any longer, I would be endangering the patients, particularly because I haven’t had a break, let alone any sleep.”

“Good. You look like death warmed up,” Bobby stated before shovelling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. “I feel like it too.”

“Go home, honey, before you fall asleep at the table!” Jody chuckled, and Y/N responded with a lopsided smile before grabbing the empty plate and used cutlery and standing from her seat.

“Alright, I’m going! Uncle Bobby, Jody, I’ll see you Sunday. Benny, it was nice to see you again,” she smiled tiredly at the blue-eyed man.

“You too, cher. Take care of yourself, you hear?” Benny winked at her before digging back into his breakfast.

Dean stood and lifted his used dishes and walked with her to place them on the counter, which was home to all the used crockery. “You doing okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, nothing a hot shower and a decent sleep won’t fix,” she smiled.

“Alright. Call me later, once you’ve had some sleep?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I hope you’re going home to get some sleep too?”

“Yeah, we’ll probably have another debrief back at the firehouse, then, I am going home and crawling straight into bed,” he chuckled at her smile of approval and with a final farewell, Y/N left the hospital canteen, grabbed her purse from her locker and went home to sleep.

Waking up hours later when the sun had gone down, Y/N lay in bed trying to process everything that had happened the past few days. It was always tragic when they lost a patient, and serious incidents like yesterday were awful and never got easier to deal with. In moments like this, it was easier to think of the tens of patients they saved than the six they had lost.

The next thing to cross her mind was Dean. Y/N had been glad he was posted at the hospital because she was really starting to miss him. The first couple of times they couldn’t go on their date, she’d still been able to see him, but she hadn’t seen him in twelve days because she’d been so ill with flu, and she didn’t want Dean to see her like that. Sure, it might have been extremely vain of her to think that way, but she felt it was too soon to be at her absolute worst with him.

Y/N was also disappointed that things kept coming up. Granted, neither of them had chosen what happened to stall progress on their budding relationship. No one could’ve predicted her father would die right after their first date and put any thought of another date onto the back burner for weeks.

Neither of them could’ve guessed that Jess would need to finish work early and Y/N would need to be the one to take her shift, nor could Dean or her have done anything to stop Cas from getting injured on a call. And there was no way either could have foreseen what happened yesterday, resulting in them having to work.

Suddenly, she had an overwhelming pang in her chest and a strong urge to be with him, to say to hell with the fates, dates, plans, and schedules. She just needed to be with him. Needed him.

Knowing Dean wouldn’t be working after pulling an all-night shift, Y/N threw the bed covers off her body and showered. She was going to go over. Who needed a date anyway? She and Dean had been on hundreds of those and, she hoped, would go on hundreds more.

This was no longer about want for Y/N. It was about need.

Next Chapter >>

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[katsuniverse]

hey love! i was wondering (only if you're comfortable with it) if you could do a sub!james x dom!reader smut where the reader is a cam girl hehe

anyways i love your writing!!! xx

warning: sex worker reader, SMUT, sub!james, femdom!reader, male masturabtion, unprotected penetrative sex, praise kink, bondage, subspace, slight degradation , slight mommy kink if you squint -lemme know if there’s more

AN: this was fun to write cuz i love sub!james but anywaysss hope u enjoy.{edited} let’s not pretend this request wasn’t ages ago and i deadass thought i finished and posted it only to find it nestled into my drafts. anyways i started writing this forever ago, so if you see a maturity in my language, you know why lmao) pls don’t be mad :))) obvious modern au

navigation

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you were wearing something different, he noticed.

instead of the usual baby blue underwear, you were clad in a deep red lacy two-piece.

it extenuated your figure in a way that made you look more . . . assertive. as though you were looking down on him with a condescending grin, knowing how desperately he craves you.

except it wasn’t just him, unfortunately. every sunday at noon you would go live and entertain up to 5,000 people with your explicit vulnerability. letting everyone see your most sensitive parts and watch you as you tip yourself over the edge repeatedly.

you were james’s favorite. maybe it was in the way you would be doing the most erotic poses and making the most pathetic sounds yet still he would feel so mesmerized, so enamored that even he knew you were the one in control.

it was you that had him wrapped around your finger. it was you that made him so eager to clear off his schedule the moment he knew you would be live. it was you that made him feel aroused in a way that no ones else has seen or accomplished. and it was you that kept him wanting more even after his cheeks were heated, his thighs were trembling, his eyes were all glassy and his mind was all cloudy, only focused on you.

it was utterly shameful how often you were the star of his scenarios, the main character of his dreams and the supervisor of his mind.

now here he was, sitting on his bedroom floor in the closet so his parents wouldn’t here and wake from their slumber, watching as you run your hands down your body with a teasing smirk. he could feel that familiar haziness enter his head and it didn’t help you dressed in his favorite color, looking more ravishing than ever.

it didn’t even just stop at your outfit. you were matching in cherry red nails and heels, lips adorned in the ruby color, to go under your masquerade mask. he could feel the tent in his trousers tighten and he eagerly freed himself from the confines.

your eyes narrowed and your glanced towards the chat, deciding between all the entry’s of what you should do to tease the viewers next.

james scrambled to type a suggestion in hopes you would reply.

bambiboythechaser: love when you take your straps down and play with your tits

“hmm, bambi boy it is,” you cheerfully mutter, moving your hair away and slowly bringing down the strapes to your bra, one at a time.

your breasts fall out of their cups as you unclip the back and you make a show of pinching and pulling at your nipples. whimpers leave your throat, as you need at them.

james slows his pace with a fist around his cock, edging himself to enjoy your live. he watches as your hands hesitatingly wonder around your clothed naval, eyeing the chat for a request or offer to take them off.

bambiboythechaser: please take them off, wanna see all of you

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read the message, “ok bambi boy, seems like your extra active tonight then usual. well you know it’ll cost’ya, darling.”

james subconsciously bucks into his hand at the nickname, and makes quick work of sending the money. your eyes gleam as you see the payment and you teasingly run your fingernails downwards as you ease of the lacy panties.

a soft moan escapes him as he gets sight of your bare body. he’s always known you to be a beautiful woman but, every time is like the first time he wandered upon your content.

you slide your fingers through the arousal gathered at your folds and gently rub, leaning your head back to let out a slightly exaggerated moan. with heavy breathes you gaze down at the chat and easily notice how the viewers appreciate your lewd noises and view.

the bespectacled boys pupils zeroed in on your cunt as you quicken your pace and he does the same, wanting to finish with you. choked out gasps and moans fill the closet as he works his was towards the feeling building inside his stomach.

“get ready loves, i’m coming,” you mutter out, pushing your frame closer to the camera. james repeatedly rubs at his head as you curl your fingers to press on that one spot that has you seeing stars. you arch your back and cry out as the male releases on his stomach, whimpering as he comes down from his high.

you let out a happy sigh as you thank all your viewers and quickly dismiss yourself from the chat, reminding them to come back next week.

this was the part james was always curious about. what you did after ending the live and cleaning yourself up. did you study for school? did you even go to school? maybe you made dinner for yourself and took care of a pet. you seem like the pet-type, he thought.

but, that’s weird. he shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. he hasn’t even seen your real face and knows close to nothing about your actual identity. perhaps he’ll let it go.

if he can get you off his mind, that is.

≈ ≈ ≈

james combed back his unruly locks as he stood infront of his bathroom mirror. he was going over to his friends house. that friends parents conveniently being friends of his parents. that friend also being his first crush ever.

you had been friends since you were 12, james having fancied you since you were 15. is started out a just attraction towards you, post-puberty when his hormones took control.

however, he has soon noticed a pattern in the way his heart would flutter at your smallest affections and the wave of bitterness that would wash over him when seeing another boy try for your attention.

he had missed you over the few months you were separated in the summer and now that schools starting once again both of your parents scheduled a dinner party to catch up once again.

a sense of excitement passed over him at the thought of seeing you again. with that excitement however also came timidness. had you missed him as well? how had your summer been? had you been thinking about by him in the ways he was thinking about you? did you find someone to replace him in the weeks you were parted? he hoped not. surely you would never replace him.

he swiftly finished getting ready and met with his parents outside to apparate to your manor.

he couldn’t help but wonder if you looked different from when he last saw you. you were already naturally beautiful and he couldn’t imagine you getting anymore stunning.

he walked up the steps to your front door waiting for your appearance to ease the nerves eating away senses. to his disappointment it was your father who had led y’all inside and greeted his parents with a familiarity.

he chuckled, “you know y/n, always wanting to look her best. she should be down any minute, but in the meantime take a seat at the dinning table while we wait.”

james made sure he took the spot across from you, taking a bite of one of the rolls toward the center of the table.

in less than five minutes your heels could be heard clacking down the hallway and his head swiveled in the direction of the doorway, just as you make your way through the entrance.

he had to choke down a surprised gasp as you graciously strided down to your seat, a bashful flush decorating your cheeks.

“sorry for the wait. I couldn’t decide what dress to wear and-” you were cut off as james’s mother cut you off.

“oh dear, it’s alright we’re just happy too see you again. you don’t have to worry,” she sent you a warm smile, brushing away your fears in a heartbeat.

james could hardly focus on what anyone was saying. you looked. . . breathtaking. that was the only way to describe the sight in front of him. you were wearing a captivating red dress with a barely-appropriate cleavage and a slit down your left leg, exposing the smooth skin of your calve.

he shifted in his seat at the blood rushing downwards, trying to avoid the heat burning all over his face, ears, and neck.

the rest of the dinner went on with you trying to unsuccessfully maintain eye contact with him and james doing his best to avoid glancing at any part of your revealed physique.

after finishing up on desert, the parents made their way outside to drink and mingle while you convinced james to hangout in your room.

he was silent the whole time and you were worried he was conflicted with you, for something. determined to find out you quietly closed the door as soon as you both entered and turned so your back pressed against it.

he was facing the wall, away from you so you couldn’t see his expression making you walk over to him to see him staring at his shoes.

“jamie, why are you being so preserved? did I do something wrong? if so, you know you can tell me,” you spoke softly, taking your index finger and thumb to lift his head, and focus on you.

what you saw in his eyes startled you, seeing unexpected . . . lust clouding his irises. your eyebrows furrow as you place your palm against his cheek, feeling the warmth on his rosy flesh.

“why don’t I get you some water?,” you mutter, your feet carrying you to the bathroom.

james watches you walk out forgetting his promise to not stare at your figure, his gaze then landing on your dresser closest to the door.

despite his preoccupied mind, he noticed almost immediately the sparky item laying to the side of the surface. it was a masquerade mask. a sparkly masquerade mask. but no, not just any sparkly masquerade mask. her mask. the same girl he watched just nights ago in his room, jerking off to. the same girl he he saw finger herself and make herself come in front of hundreds of other people.

maybe he was being silly. perhaps they just happened to have the same mask. but then he walked over to you in the bathroom and he saw the same red heels, and the same red lingerie folded over in the corner on the counter.

your eyes zeroed in on him standing in the door way as you were applying your red lipstick on. he frantically turned to look at you and in an instant noticed the same red lipstick and nails.

“james, are you alright?,” you questioned, taking note of his widen eyes and struck-filled expression.

“i-it’s you. you’re h-her. she’s you. I saw you … n-naked,” he stuttered out, still staring at you in disbelief.

realization dawned on you as you took in his words. he was you naked, he doubled at the sight of your lingerie and heels. had he watched one of your lives? was he a subscriber? did he comment on the chat and interact with you in your disguise and outfit?

“oh shit, james! you saw my video didn’t you?,” you whispered-yelled as you run a troubled hand through your hair.

“are you kidding? I’ve watched all your lives. I’m a regular. bambiboythechaser ring a bell?” he says back, the tent in his pants growing.

you curse, remembering the username constantly requesting on all your chants and wonder how you be so dense. you open your mouth to ask james when he started watching, but closed it quickly at his expression.

he was trying to remain looking somewhat serious, and you had previously detected his prominent boner, but now the need in his eyes was more obvious now than ever. you made a decision then, that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take care of him for once, and took his face in your hands.

“I suppose you’ve always been my good boy, now haven’t you?”, his irises enlarge and it takes everything to not kiss him silly in that moment.

his tedious gulp doesn’t go unnoticed and you’ve half a mind to take the pad of your thumb and soothe the pinched skin in between his eyebrows. instead of a verbal response, he shakes his head. too excited to hesitate another moment, yet too anxious to speak.

you don’t mind taking control though. he knows that already by the sound of him hurriedly shuffling towards your bed. with a relaxed smirk from you, he takes his que to strip himself of the clothing shielding his body from your watchful gaze.

“my boy. so good. so eager for me, hm?” you take your time removing articles of clothing, one by one except for your bra and underwear. teasing him with your slow movements and eye contact. he flusters as the show of revealed bare skin.

it’s hits you then, as you crawl your way on top of him and place featherlight kisses upon his goosebump-riddled skin that this may be his first time. “tell me if you need me to stop at any time, ok pretty boy?” you lift your head to watch his face for any sign of opposition.

he hums and nods like the ever-needy angel he is. as you straddle his naked waist with your hips, you feel his weak attempt to thrust up towards you and you gently place his hands on your waist. his whimpers reach your ears like a melody you could never get tired of and you grind your hips down to get more.

the more your kisses on his neck turn sloppy the more confidence he gains to where he moves his hands to slide up and down you back then wraps his arms around your middle, as if scared to let you go. you reach around your back to unclasp your bra in an attempt to help him get more comfortable.

his eyes go wide like saucers and with a gentle nod of consent he dives forward. latching on to your tits and worshipping them with his hands. using his appreciation to make her feel good. after you pull away from his bruised flesh you gently lead him away from your breasts for a soft kiss as your hands grab each of his and hold them above his head while simultaneously leaning him back all the way on the bed. his soft moans are muffled by your mouth as your tongue finds the inside of his mouth. with a chaste peck to his lips, you lean back up and with one hand keep his hands together and the other, hold his cheek sweetly.

“you ok with trying something new with me, love?” you ponder as your hand leaves his face and digs into the drawer on your nightstand to pull out two, wine red silk ties.

his face turns the color of said pieces of fabric and with a sheepish grins mutters back a frantic ‘yes please’. with that you make quick work of tying his hands with a gentle kiss to each wrist and not to tight to cut off much circulation. you kiss down his body while rocking your hips downward. his whines for you to stop teasing, echo faintly in your ear and you mercifully decide to strip your bottom half of your panties and straddle him once more.

his jaw hangs open at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing against his skin. “jamie darling, I need you to look in my eyes and tell me your ready, ok?”

his dilated eyes find yours and he replies breathlessly”yes please. need you now, please”. with that, you gently life yourself above him and line him up, before sinking down.

a strangled sound leaves the poor boys throat and you brace your palms on his shoulders to steady yourself into a good rhythm. “what a pretty boy you are, hm? so pathetic looking, spread under me like a helpless little toy.” your words fuel him on more, and he braces his feet on the bed to meet up with your trusts, desperate to make you feel good.

the sounds of skin slapping with groans of your name and whimpers of his fill the room. you reach an angle that has him pressed firmly up to your g-spot and your eyes roll back as your back arches with a cry through teeth-bitten lips.

james is in an absolute daze. taking in your beauty and watching longingly as your tits bounce with each thrust of his and your movements. he reaches forward as much as he can to take a nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue around it, feeling himself get closer.

you cards your fingers through your hair and clench around him while appreciatively humming praises and his whines cause your skin to vibrate. “you close, love?” you breathlessly get out while he shakes his head ‘yes’ and switches nipples.

in an attempt to get you both to finish at the same time you reach one hand to rub your clit and the other to grab his hair and yank him up in a passionate kiss. he whimpers once again and you make a show of biting his bottom lip before pulling him away. “let’s come together, okay angel? can you do that pretty boy?”.

incoherent ‘yes’s fall from his swollen lips as you clench around him with a final thrust and fall apart as your body tingles and you reach your climax same time as james.

“thank you, mommy! thank you, thank you”, breathless words tumble out of him faster than he can register and he doesn’t even realize what he says after his head kills back and he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

your skin sticks together with sweat as you untie his hands and rub at his wrists to soothe any remaining ache.with a kiss to his forehead and a promise of return you pull away from him to grab a wet washcloth to clean you both up. afterwards, you climb into bed beside him and lift the covers up to cuddle as he lays on top of your and wraps his whole body around yours.

“you did so well for me james. so proud of you”, you brush through his hair with your fingers as he gives you pecks along your skin before softly dozing off. you turn of the light beside you as you cuddle closer to shortly shut your eyes along with him.

moots! (pls lemme know if i forgot you lol)

-also rly appreciate reposts

@jamespottersmommy @morwap @moony-lupiin @why-what-no @wonderfilworld @natti-ice @my-my-only-angel @dylwrites @honeymunson @sereinegemini @fairydxll @i-cant-stfu @alexaaahh @qtcupid @lilithreplies @lilith-weasley @l0nelylibra @padfootprongsmoony @padf00ts-l0ver @ddejavvu @moonbcrry

#moots <3 #katlovesall #james potter smut #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader #marauders smut #james potter x reader #sub!james potter #james potter x you #dom!reader #sub james potter #fem!reader #fem!dom #jamespotterismypreciousboy #james potter x reader smut #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders #mrskatpotter

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: Lunar Eclipse - General Messages

Sup y'all, I'm back for the second round of my PAC marathon happening before the end of October! I wanted to pull some guidance from this lunar eclipse season, especially since it's felt very energetically heavy since the last full moon. All three piles are going through some stage of great transformation taking place -- just in time for Scorpio season.

To assist me, I've consulted three red dragons, known in the deck as Watcher dragons, to help you choose your reading. I like Universal Dragon oracle as an "energy" deck by embodying the traits each dragon represents through meditation practice, and these red dragons specialize in guiding through important life transitions. If you prefer to choose intuitively by color, I've also added three gemstones for your piles below:

Pile 1, Knowledge Dragon + Cherry Quartz Pile 2, Awakening Dragon + Lepidolite Pile 3, Emergence Dragon + Lapis Lazuli

Pile 1: Knowledge Dragon + Cherry Quartz

Supermoon, 21. Venus, 5. Heart Healing, Alcalb: Poison and Medicine, 4 of Cups, 2 of Wands, VI Lovers, King of Pentacles, XX Judgement

Please be gentle with yourself at this time, pile 1. You're in need of a soothing kind of support. This could be a turbulent time to deal with purging out any negativity from your past. You may get reminders of some old issues which return out of nowhere to grab your attention. Even if occasional, you may need to remind yourself that you will be okay.

Be open with giving yourself comfort, or letting others baby you a little bit when you're feeling down. The King of Pentacles could be you or someone else, but this is the profile of somebody who is generous and aims to please. Embodying Venusian energy, this King wants you to feel at rest and does not mind offering tasty fruit or a warm blanket to cheer you up. Sitting next to the Four of Cups, it may be emphasizing that you need to allow yourself the chance to receive this care.

If your issue is related to a partnership, going out and spending time with friends or even on your own may be a better way to take it easy, instead of trying to work out anything now. This is not the exact time or place to be settling out bigger issues in your relationships unless it's urgent. They'll show up on their own time anyway. This reading wants to focus on maintaining your emotional well being. If this is not relationship but involves a situation in the present, then step away as much as you can and be as kind and patient with yourself as possible.

The key here is to maintain self awareness when these strong emotions move through you, that's what the Knowledge dragon wants you to know. "Knowing is half the battle." There may be a strong pull to making the kind of choices that can lead to major growth in your life path, but although new events and alliance are waiting ahead of you, the lunar eclipse is a golden opportunity to just purge and completely release whatever trauma based feelings are trying to hold you back.

You could be particularly affected by the phases and placements of the moon. Check your natal chart to see and compare the transiting moon with yours, see how the moon makes contact with other planets as it moves through each of the signs. If you're interested in brushing up your studies, whether astronomy or astrology, this is a very good time to glean a lot more insight than normal. It's easier to learn lessons when you're in a state of ease.

(extra note: I see multiple fruits in your pile: the apple stained glass, cherry quartz, pomegranate, and the berries the blue jays are holding. Fruits can be a reference to eating healthy snacks, or an emphasis on romance. These mood swings may feel intense, but they will yield fruit for you. Please take it how it resonates for you.)

Pile 2: Awakening Dragon + Lepidolite

Full Moon Sagittarius, 15. Retrograde, 6. Freedom, Aldebaran: Destruction and Rejection, Knight of Wands, 6 of Cups, 8 of Wands, 9 of Swords, 8 of Swords

Hey pile 2, you picked one of my favorite cards in this dragon deck! I love how the light in the tree hollow resembles a portal. The energy of the Retrograde card looks to be the very opposite: all the colors of nature are drained, and all that's left are structures of near perfect symmetry and order. It's almost like you're the figure in the Retrograde card who's actually looking back and choosing to leave behind the old structure for the new and unknown with nervous enthusiasm., but not without wistfulness.

This is something you've likely sensed would happen and now that the predicted situation is at hand, things must change quickly to adjust. It reminds me of movies where the character is watching something like a building fall or a ship sink, but they have an escape pod where they can be safe with family. In these movies, the character always takes another look back to remember all the good and bad times that made it so special. The character wants to stay in that space forever until the others shout "c'mon! Hurry up!"

It's understandable that when we sense a big change is underway, we take time out to appreciate the good times had. There's a difference, though, between simply being nostalgic by enjoying memories, and the fear based resistance of walking towards whatever lies ahead. You may have recently gone through a deep shadow work period where some of your anxieties were brought to light and dealt with. You're nearing the end of this difficult cycle, however, so give yourself the chance to breathe a little before moving on.

When the next chapter comes, it may happen rather quickly. That's why the Six of Cups and Lepidolite want you to take a step back just a little and heal your more gentle, imaginative, fun loving side. Read an old comic book or bake cookies, surround yourself with familiar things. This will allow you to be more flexible and resilient about encountering anything that comes next, instead of feeling worn out.

You're at a place now where you're ready to let go of an old cycle, one that kept you feeling a little stuck in the dark. Some balance is needed. Enjoying pieces of the past does not mean getting mired in it and unable to progress. If anything, sometimes it's necessary to take a step back to move two steps forward, like when we watch a movie twice and see new things we hadn't noticed during the first watch. Bring the best from the past with you. When the time is right, don't be afraid to not run, not walk, but to step carefully into the portal.

Pile 3: Emergence Dragon + Lapis Lazuli

South Node, 8. Scorpio, 2. Understanding, Atlas: Guidance and Discovery, XX Judgement, VII Chariot, 4 of Wands, Knight of Swords, XV Devil

Overwhelmingly, pile 3, I'm seeing that you're getting the green light to go ahead and embark on your next path. Notice all the teal color in your oracle cards? It's a popular color in hospitals as it provides a gentle contrast to healing that could be painful and frightening for patients. I initially imagined someone wading through a dark sewer only to approach the light of the other side. In the Understanding card, you can see that the hooded figure is walking over the stream and not in it. It's as if the bridge appeared out of nowhere. And the water looks pure and flowing smooth.

Something in your external world may be pushing you along to your next journey, whether or not you're entirely ready. What is it you would like to do, or where is it you would like to go next? I feel with the Judgement card, it's talking about a specific issue or event in your life. It's less a case of throwing darts to see what will stick and more of following the path that aligns with your true self. Your life is leading you to your life path with two thumbs up.

It's as if Judgement as a card represented an intersection, where many roads of various directions diverge into one area. You must put your turn signal on and indicate where you plan to proceed next. The sooner you can get clear on which road to take, the faster your next chapter will roll out. Just make sure you're using the right signal.

The biggest hurdle to overcome will be the ever present comfort zone. A comfort zone is not something to be fought. It's a necessary part of keeping up with the body and mind. Imagine constantly taking in novel material? That's what babies do, and they speak in gurgles 'cause they can hardly stand that everything is so new! It can be overwhelming.

People aren't always meant to push themselves to miserable exhaustion like Atlas just because a life of being more relaxed and certain seems boring and less fulfilling. But at the same time, we must learn to expand past what we know and love to something fresh and exciting. Whatever goal you're seeking to start or resolve, the light is green and you have the right of way. Spend time getting clear on your choices. But don't hold back anymore!

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot community #general reading #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #psychic readings #pick an image #pick a crystal #dragon reading #oracle #oracle cards #lunar eclipse #tarot cards #astro tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #intuitive #intuitive reading #vitaminseetarot #vitaminsee

[joshlmbrt]

hi cherry! can i request for a kit walker x f!reader fic where reader is currently pregnant & one night she suddenly crave for soft cookies while they were sleeping & she felt bad waking kit up bcs she wanted him to bake those cookies for her since he did learned the baking skills during his time in asylum and after that she told kit that the cookies were too good that she ate them all and kit adored her even more 🥺 ily xx

p.s: this request is inspired by me bcs i do want some cookies rn LMAO 🍪🍪

hi love! thank you for requesting, i��m sorry this took so long! i love love writing for kit - sadly no one ever seems to read the stuff i write for him, but that will not make me stop! i hope you enjoy this <3 w; mentions of pregnancy cravings (i hope that’s okay!), mentions of the asylum - no grace or alma, slightly short, but sweet!

your stomach grumbles slightly in time with kit’s snoring. your pout grows as you look down at your tiny bump, hand sliding over it.

you can wait in the morning, surely. to eat the soft, chewy, chocolatey sweet treats kit can make.

you can wait…

you can’t. your stomach grumbles again at the thought and your hand is slowly reaching over and nudging kits arm before slowly turning onto your side.

you watch as his brows pinch, head tilting to the side a small hum leaving his throat. “kit,” you lean towards him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “kit, honey. wake up.”

his eyes slowly open, blinking a couple of times before his heavy eyes land on you. “what’s wrong, sugar? everything with baby okay?” his hand finds your bump quickly.

you smile softly, placing a hand over his. “i don’t think so…” you mutter, glancing down. “little gremlin is wanting some cookies…”

“now?” he turns his head to stare at the clock that ticks away. “at 2 in the mornin’?”

“baby calls?” your brows lift slightly, a small laugh leaving your throat.

kit yawns and nods - never grumbles or groans about waking up this early to fix something that could be fixed in the morning - digs the heel of his palms into his eyes before lifting up.

he stands from the bed and you can help but reach over and swat playfully at his backside when he reaches down to pick up his flannel pajama pants. he yelps, jumping slightly and narrowing his eyes at you.

you grin. “sorry. it was in the way.”

he rolls his eyes but a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, hand reaching out and fingers wiggling for you.

you take his hand and slide off of his side of the bed and follow him him towards the kitchen.

he’s quick with setting out the ingredients and mixing them into a bowl, feeding you a couple of chocolate chips from the bag, and sliding the pan of cookies into the oven - there was enough to make two batches.

to pass time, he reaches over to turn up the radio that had been playing quiet background noise, pulling you close and swaying with you.

you giggle softly, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, nose nudging his.

this was about as sweet as the chocolate chip cookies that kit pulled out, your eyes watching as he breaks one in half and the chocolate string snaps.

“yummy?” he tilts his head, thumb brushing the chocolate from the corner of your lip, sucking it off quickly.

you nod quickly. “the best. thanks for always putting up with me and my sudden cravings.”

he smiles softly, eyes lingering on the chocolate that had ended up on the other corner of your lip.

“anything for you.”

#cherry writes ✿ #kit walker x fem!reader #kit walker x reader #kit walker x you #evan peters x fem!reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you

[thatone-brightstar]

Before You (Carmen Berzatto X Fem!OC)

It was Isaac before Carmy, and it was Ross before you.

Part I: December.

Part II: January.

Part III: February.

words: 3.4k

a/n: Welcome all to the second part of my TB & TF series!! This is a prequel to the first part, so if you haven't read that, you can either read this first then the other one or vise versa. Also, this is me kinda just adding personal experience to her story because as a hostess, I think we don't get credit enough for having to deal with some people's shit (sigh) however, she's her own character so feel free to relate however you please. Another thing, I wrote this before S2 came out, so any coincidence with the firework scene in Ep5 is just me being ✨psychic✨ Enjoy! XX

No amount of deep breaths could calm the blistering anger circulating through her system. Her quickening steps move across the dining hall of the stupidly ostentatious restaurant she has the misfortune of working at. From the elegant decorum and the expensive menu, she can pinpoint the exact type of diners the place hosts: terrible, horrible, shitty people. And while she’s completely against placing anyone under any category, New York socialites seemed to never want to leave the rooted stereotype of being pompous, rude and extremely annoying.

Her theory had been proven correct once more after spending the last 10 minutes getting berated for not seating a walk-in on one of the busiest nights of the month. 

“You should save a table of that size for these situations…” The insufferable trust fund baby spat at her and all the self composure in the world could not stop the words from leaving her  mouth.

“Maybe send us a heads up by telepathy next time and I’ll try and catch it…” She had mumbled sarcastically, hoping that the background noise would drown it out as she tapped meaninglessly around the tablet.

It did not. And now her mouth was coated with the metal taste of blood that had oozed from her bitten tongue. She usually wasn’t this easy to frustrate, it took more than a pretentious jackass to destabilize her mood- especially in her line of work- but the weight of the day crashed on tiresome shoulders and the little manbitch past the podium had just been the spoiled cherry on top. 

The smooth Jazz is replaced by the sharp sounds of metal clinging against each other once she pushes past the service doors, in direction to the back alley. Her presence pulls a few looks from the chefs, but with a hardened scowl and a rigid stance, only an idiot would be aloof to the irritation detaching off her in not so subtle waves.

“Yo Ross, baby-” One of the cooks shouts, but is soon silenced by a threatening look and pointed finger.

“Fuck you Frank- not now.” She spits back, without even stopping or wasting any more time.

The frigid winter air finds a worthy opponent in the heat cursing through her veins as she crosses the emergency exit and drops against the brick wall with hands around her face, fully embracing the cold. A muffled groan vibrates through her fingers and blends in seamlessly with the usual sirens and horns blaring from the street ahead. It doesn’t take long for the dropping temperature to catch up to her- numbing the balls of her fingers and painting the tip of her nose red- but her manager told her to take five to calm down and she would not oppose to stealing company time, even if it meant freezing her ass off.

Ross pushes herself off the grimy wall and begins to tread along the small alley to warm up while she tries to talk herself out of quitting for what feels like the fifth time that month. 

“Chill, okay? You’ll find shitty people everywhere-” Her voice swims around the reduced space, comfortable in the privacy of her own company. “Besides, next one’s the good one and you can say goodbye to this shithole wrapped in a Gucci sweater…”

The noise of the busy kitchen pierces her bubble when the door opens again, blinding her with the white light while a body passes through, then closing back again and leaving them with the dim yellow bulb fighting to stay lit. 

“Ross.” He greets with a single nod of his head as his eyes spot her in the darkness, pulling a beaten up package from his pocket and lighting the thin tube with one of those long kitchen lighters he always seems to carry.

“Chef.” She answers back with a similar nod. 

Her cheeks carry a crimson that goes beyond the freezing cold, embarrassed to think that he might have heard her little self pep talk and she’s thankful for the lack of lighting in the space. The sound of his steady exhales and the lingering scent of tobacco slowly make their way to her as she keeps her eyes on the ground, uncomfortable shoes rubbing away over the pavement in distraction. 

“You, uh, you good?” He clears his throat and shuffles against the wall, switching from one overworked foot to another. 

They’ve probably only ever crossed a couple sentences despite her working there for almost a year, but she tries to hide the doubt behind a nod. 

“Uh… y-yeah. Another day, another shitty customer.” She jokes in hopes to break the barrier of ice, though it seems to be thicker than she expected, because all she gets is another nod that has her wanting to scurry back inside. 

“What’d they tell you now?” He asks through another smoky exhale. 

“That he’s friends with the head chef and that he’d have my head if I didn’t give ‘em a table…” 

“That’s bull-“ He says, sucking in his cheeks and making the ember tip glow bright orange. “I don’t have any friends.”

“Yeah that’s what I told him too.” Ross adds and receives the wisp of a snigger in return. 

It’s small and almost unnoticeable- so tiny it could be confused with a cough- but it’s there. And the ice wall doesn’t seem as thick as she thought now. 

“So did you?” The chef asks again, cigarette halfway finished while she tries to keep her teeth from chattering. “Let ‘em in, I mean..”

“Like hell I did.” She responds before rolling her eyes. “But fucking Martin probably did…” 

He nods his head slowly in acknowledgement, then lets another soft breath blow through his nose, smoke and vapor invisible in the low light. “I can send ‘em a shitty stake if you want.”

Ross knows it’s a joke, no respectable chef in the building would ever ruin a $300 Kobe beef just to spite a shitty client, but the solidarity in his offer grants him her own smile. 

“Nah, I’ll just ask the bartender to pour ‘em the cheap stuff so they get a hangover tomorrow.” 

Despite wanting to continue the unforeseen interaction- mostly out of scientific curiosity- the cold seeping through the thin material of her uniform finally triggers her feet in direction of the door, a few feet away from where he’s finishing his cigarette. Her fingers stay curled over the handle, contemplating the words and if they have any space in the situation, but before she can convince herself otherwise, she calls out to the chef. 

“I know it’s a shitty day to work ‘n all… but Merry Christmas… I guess.”

He nods again, brows raised and eyes wide seems to be the default expression on his face, then a ghost of something she can assume is a barely visible smile hides behind the dying tube. 

“Yeah… you too.” 

**********

“Have a good night guys, happy new year!” She recites with a wave to the departing guests, the phrase already lacking meaning after constant repetition.

New Year’s dinner rush is a blatant copy of the week before, with the exception of the nice vibes that many seem to carry, influenced by the faux restart. However, it does move painfully slow, between kind guests and uncomfortable offers from the Wall Street wannabe bros who couldn’t take a hint. Every advance had to be deflected with a kind smile and by the end of the night her cheeks had grown tired from all the tension they were forced to endure. Thankfully, there were only a few tables left and she could finally switch the uncomfortable heels for her sneakers, which facilitated finishing her last tasks in record time.

“Hey, Ross-” 

“Yeah” She turns to Meg- one of the waitresses and her friend- while shuffling through the menus, but stops as she sets a small plate with an even smaller dessert over the wooden desk. “What’s this?”

“From the kitchen…” She answers with a teasing tone and a smile that makes her roll her eyes.

“Take it back and tell Frank to fuck off- I’m not sucking his dick for an eclair-”

“It’s not from him, idiot! Chef Carmen sent it…” Meg whispers leaning in as if sharing some long kept secret. 

“What? Why?”

Meg shrugs and pulls a tiny spoon from one of the pockets on her apron. “Probably heard you bitchin’ about some guest again.” Then she scoops a piece of the dessert and pops it in her mouth, groaning in delight. “Say what you want about that man, but god is he good with his hands.”

“Dude that sounds so wrong.” Ross chuckles before taking a piece for herself and can’t help but agree with the delicious taste of the pastry. “We’re still on for drinks, right?”

“Can’t-” Meg mumbles between spoonfuls. “Mom’s making me meet them at grandma’s after this. She says this is probably her last new year so…”

“Shit- I don’t wanna go just with Frank.”

“Why don’t you ask your chef.” She suggests teasingly, before picking up the empty plate. “‘New year, new you’ ‘n all that. He already sent you food ‘n plus you’ve had the hots for him for a while now-”

“I do not!” She bickers a bit too defensively, rolling her eyes at the disbelief in Meg’s expression. “I’m nice to everyone, not just him.”

With a sarcastic ‘Sure, kid’ and an exaggerated nod, Meg turns on her shoes and heads deep into the emptying dining room.

By the time she’s finally done, it’s an hour to midnight and almost everyone has gone home except Frank, who sits wrapped up in his own coat and sharing a cigarette with another cook. Her steps lose power past the door and stop altogether once she notices the lonely man leaning on the wall a few feet in front of her.

“Hey, chef-” The girl calls towards him, his head immediately snapping up in her direction, unlit cig hanging loosely from his lips. “You got any plans?”

Ross doesn’t wait for an answer, steps moving closer towards him. There’s a thin nervous expression harboring his normally closed off features as his eyes dart around her face and the two men ahead of them, slowly putting the smoke back in the box.

“So?” She asks again. “You got anywhere to be?”

“Uh… no but-”

“Great, c’mon. Let's go grab some drinks.” She doesn’t wait for a response before linking her arm around his and walking closer to the waiting men.

She can see the tightness locked over Frank's jaw but tries her best to ignore it, pulling the chef in the opposite direction from where they’re standing. 

“Night boys.” She calls out before turning the corner and out of their view. 

Ross lets go of his arm once they’re a few blocks away, the warmth of her touch immediately escaping through the frigid wind. 

“Sorry ‘bout that… Frank’s just a little too much and I don’t wanna deal with that right now.” She says while growing the space between them. 

“Yeah-no I get it- he gets on my nerves sometimes… too.” 

They can hear the faint noise that the wind carries from a few blocks away, the celebrating multitude that has crowded Times Square in anticipation of the ball drop only growing thicker by the minute. 

“So, um, you really don’t have anywhere to be?” She asks, nervous fists inside her coat pockets. 

“Just home.” He shrugs. 

“Cool- so, what do you say to that drink?”

He shrugs again, not in an ‘I’m too cool to care’ way but more of an ‘I suck with words’ kind of way, that triggers a soft smile over her freezing features. 

“Thanks for the dessert… by the way.” She thanks with a slow step so he can catch up beside her once they’ve renewed their destination. 

“Oh-uh- yeah, sure.” He stammers, hands tightly in his pockets. “Anyone piss you off tonight?”

“Someone pisses me off every night-” She jokes, the lightheartedness growing with each step further away from work. “Curse of the trade, I guess.” She adds with a shrug.

They can hear the music emanating from the bar before even seeing it. The regular spot sits at the end of the curve, seemingly untouched by the masses, though the dusty windows show the movement of bodies inside. After maneuvering their way through the dispersed crowd, they’re still able to find an empty spot by the corner of the bar where it’s easier to reach the bartender. Every screen in their view covers the transmission of the infamous ball drop- as if the event wasn’t occurring a  few blocks away- but she figures it’s more comfortable seeing it from the inside of a heated bar than in the crushing crowd of bodies freezing outside.

It takes her five minutes to grab the barman’s attention and another two to get their drinks, but when he pats down his pants in search of his wallet, she’s already pocketing down the change the man’s given her.

“I asked you, remember?” She says to him while passing his drink, noticing a soft tint over his cheeks that hadn’t been there at their arrival and her brows raise slightly, before choosing to ignore it.

Ross can feel the man shuffling and clearing his throat beside her and the anxious actions pull a thin lipped smile over her face. He seems very different from the person she has observed behind the kitchen- a baby deer almost- careful not to trip over his own legs. It’s kind of endearing to her, how the confidence he carries in the confinements of a kitchen switches off the second he’s outside of one, replacing it with silence and the constant cracking of his knuckles that has her asking:

“You don’t go out much, do you?”

He exhales in the form of a small laugh, then takes a drink from his emptying mug. “That obvious?”

She nods and turns to him. “Well we’ve been here for almost twenty minutes and you’ve said three words… max.”

“Five now…” He jokes and a grin forms on her face at the dumb joke.

Ross turns to him, shifting her body in the stool to face him completely, bare knee brushing against his clothed one. “Tell me the thing you hate most about your job.”

He takes a few seconds to respond, gaze lost in the multitude as a terrible rendition of ‘Sweet Caroline’ from the karaoke machine flows through the speakers. “I don’t- think I have one…”

“Nothing?” He shakes his head. “At all?” Another shake and a thin unnoticeable smile. “Chef Carmen-”

“-Carmy.” He corrects and the grin on her face grows a few inches wide.

“Okay Carmy, tell me you don’t hate people messing up your dishes or modifying your recipes?”

A grin slowly spreads across his static features as he looks down at his empty jug of beer and scratches over his brow out of habit. Then he nods in agreement. “I really fuckin’ hate that shit.”

“Right!?” Ross’ excitement pulls a snicker that has him agreeing to another drink, which he insists on paying for. “Like, I get it when it’s an allergy, right? You don’t wanna kill anyone. But Meg was telling me about some guy that wanted the ‘blanc’ but not the ‘beurre’ on his fish- and if 8th grade French doesn’t fail me- that literally translates to ‘white butter’!”

Carmy’s warm chuckle blends in nicely with the buzzing surroundings, causing a slight tint to graze her cheeks and hold a smile on the edge of her glass as she watches him.

“One of the waiters once asked me if I could just send ‘em a rack of ribs cause they didn’t like anything on the menu…”

“Jesus! As if you had a rack to spare behind that aged ham you got hanging in the walk-in…”

“You- you’ve been inside the walk-in?” He asks in surprise while she takes another sip off her second drink.

“That’s where I go to vent.” Ross shrugs with a soft grin. “Plus it’s soundproof so no one can hear me cry or lose my shit.”

He knew it wasn’t. He’s seen her barely hold her composure many times as she crosses down the hallway- hands tightly in fists- before hearing a muffled shriek from somewhere in the back; but he always assumed it came from the depot or the alley, never his walk-in. He wasn’t gonna tell her that, though.

Their drinks slowly drain while their attention falls heavy on the transmission from the TVs. With only ten minutes to spare, she can feel the growing excitement buzzing around the room as many inch closer to their loved ones, arms over shoulders and complicit kisses galore. For a second her eyes flicker over the rim of her glass towards Carmy’s profile, drinking in the strong shape of his nose and the many little scars she hadn’t noticed from a distance.

“I don't get it…” Ross says suddenly, turning back to him again. 

“Uh… context?”

“Right- sorry-” She clears her throat -as a way to order her ideas- and places the mug back on the bar, but doesn’t notice how her body leans in closer to him when she turns back around. “So, you’re like… the shit, right?” She starts, pulling a nervous chuckle from the man.

“Solid start.”

“Shut up-” She groans. “I mean it as in… anyone who knows anything about the culinary world knows who you are. These people, they pay big bucks for your food and they always leave boasting about how great it is-”

“No they don’t-” He tries to argue with a shake of his head.

“Yes they do!” She reassures, voice a little higher and eyes a little glossier. “They do. You have the skill- the reputation to open your own place, make it however you want it to be… why stay here?” 

There’s a look behind his eyes that makes her throat run dry, brows sunken over a concentrated gaze as he settles all his attention on her and everything seems to just vanish into white noise. It could be the confidence the alcohol carries that’s made her so vocal about her thoughts, but the rational part in her head warns that it’s not her place to comment on what she doesn’t know.

Ross shakes her head lightly and mumbles a soft ‘Sorry, nevermind it's stupid.’ before gulping her drink and redirecting her attention and posture back to the screens.

‘1 Minute to Midnight!’ flashes over every screen, bathing the room in an emerald green glow that bounces perfectly off her profile and catches Carmy’s attention. The playlist of 80s anthems and the growing excitement packed in the small room are loud enough to drown out the constant nagging voice in the back of his head. He sucks in a breath and moves impossibly slow in her direction.

“I’ve thought about it.” Carmy confesses loud enough so she can hear him over the chanting crowd.

Ten. She doesn’t expect him to be so close when she turns towards him. Specks of silver rim the outer edges of his eyes, wide enough that she can almost see her reflection staring back, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Nine. Betrayal in her body flicks her eyes down to his lips only for a brief moment and it has him questioning if he might have imagined it, before a teasing smile rounds at the edges of hers.

Eight. “Well when you decide to do it, call me if you ever need a bitchy hostess…” Ross whispers.

Seven. The air from his laugh blows softly over her cheeks, growing hot with the small distance. With a quickened pulse, she tries to settle her gaze on any other part of his face.

Six. ‘Just look at his eyes- shit no, not the eyes!’ ‘The mouth? No, that's even worse!’ ‘Jesus, you’ve kissed people before, why are you so fucking nervous?!’

Five. The turmoil in her head doesn’t bleed through to her calm expression, keeping a gentle smile that has Carmen letting out his own.

“Okay… ” 

Four. The bundle of words hangs from his lips, swinging in her direction and hooking around her neck to pull her closer.

Three. There’s a prevalent pulsing rippling from her chest that drowns out any other sound around her, as if a fish bowl had fallen over the two, blocking out any exterior sound.

Two. “D’you mind if I kiss you?” She asks, gently.

One. The TV behind him explodes in multicolored lights as the ball finally drops. Fireworks reflect back to him from the shimmer of her eyes and all he can do is swallow hard, nod and let her gravity pull him forward.

A soft “Happy New Year, Carmy” brushes over his lower lip.

Then the last thing he remembers is the sweet taste of coconut gloss followed by the smooth movements of velvet lips above his bumbling ones.

**********

Part II

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 and that’s it lmao

#the bear & the fox #carmy x oc #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #Carmy berzatto x oc #carmy the bear #carmy smut #the bear tv #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction

[strobinbaby]

LET ME LOVE YOU

pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ kissing; smoking; unprotected sex; breeding?; ] minors dni!!

summary: aftermath of fucking, but she is greedy for more

word counter: 1.3k

a/n: hi and well,,, not eddie today, but im working on it, hope you enjoy xx please do not interact if you’re a minor! 

latest work / masterlist

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

I leaned against the shabby wooden door of a tiny balcony, clutching the sheet to my chest, my thighs still trembling, cold air stinging my cheeks, but helping to breathe easier. Clink. A tiny flame from a metal lighter lit up a cigarette pinched between my teeth, bathing my face in a warm orange light. 

White sheets were rumpled, a bedside lamp casted a dim glow, highlighting Joseph’s massive body from the side. He sprawled at the far end of the bed, a flimsy blanket draped over his naked body, his arms stretched behind his head as he watched me smoking, his eyes gleaming with devotion. It was around three in the morning, navy blue skies and a quiet city. I inhaled the poisonous fume, blowing out a cloud of smoke, a cherry red flicker of my cigarette burning brighter with every new tug. My gaze darted to Joseph, who studied me with a slumberous expression, cocking his head at me, his big brown eyes seducing me just staring. 

My feet carried me back to the bed, I let the sheet fall down, exposing myself for him once again. My nipples tightened at the cool whiff of air from the window, my cunt still sensitive from his fierce thrusts as I crawled over to straddle his lap. He looked handsome, a few curls fell messy over his forehead, that was coated in a thin layer of sweat, stubble coated his jaw, his mouth slack and his lips swollen from our kisses, his eyes, god, his eyes, a shade darker, lustful, devouring me. I drew on my cigarette and held it out to him. He accepted, clutching it with his fingers, cradling the back of my head, diving in to kiss me on the lips, on my shoulder, my arm, wet and prolonged, loving. Taking a tug he blew the smoke out to the side, his eyes still focused on me, hand moving lower to grip my hip, pushing me further into his body, making me mewl softly.

“Your cum is leaking out of me,” my whisper ghosted his lips as I slid my palms down his chest, stopping right above his abdomen, where the cloth was wrapped tight. He was warm and solid and I felt my breaths hitch all of a sudden. He put the cig out, throwing it into the ashtray on a nightstand, his palm firm on my thigh as he wetted his lips, shifting with me on top of him. Thick fingers brushed my folds, gathering the sticky liquid, smearing it all over my cunt, pushing them inside and moving in and out in a torturously slow pace.

“Joseph—“ I let out a shaky breath, merely grinding on his fingers, grasping his biceps for support, it was so fucking intimate, sensual, he just watched me, holding me by my hip with his other hand, the metal of his ring stinging my skin, “More, please.”

Abruptly he pulled out, leaving me empty, aching and whining at the loss of contact. 

“So needy, love,” he grumbled an inch away from my mouth, “Like I didn’t just fuck you fifteen minutes ago,” he lifted me up and tossed the sheet aside, lowering me back down, my bare skin meeting his, giving the slightest relief. I rubbed myself against his cock, coating him in my arousal, until he was hard again, looking him in the eyes as I did, trying so hard to hold back my moans.

“Can’t get enough of you,” I rasped, my forehead pressing his as I found my way to stroke him with my hand, eventually letting him sink in, easing his cock inside me, my moans overlapping with his strangled groans.

“Fuck, baby, so wet,” he nipped my jaw, veering to the spot below my ear, while I rolled my hips in a steady pace, threading my fingers through his curls, pulling him closer, “So good for me,” his voice was muffled as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, kissing my shoulder, his arms wound around my body, squeezing me tighter, “Such a sweet thing you are.”

“Joe, oh—“ I whimpered when his pelvis brushed my clit, “Jesus—“ my arm stretched to the headboard as I desperately braced myself over it, feeling Joseph’s mouth getting closer to my chest. His palms rested on my spine and I let myself lean into his touch, my head swam back as he sucked on my nipples, gentle and delicate, one t a time, while I moved back and forth, whining and fisting the sheets, “Joseph—” I pawed for his hair, tugging on his roots, making him groan into my skin, but he didn’t let go, he sucked a mouthful of my breast in, as much as he could fit, relieving it with a sloppy sound, breaking away.

A rapid light came from the window, a car drove past, the wind got stronger, cooling our bodies just a bit, the room smelled like perfume and sex and I was bordering on loosing control and letting go. 

“God, fuck, I love you,” I panted, delirious and dizzy, blinded with lust, “Your hands on my body, your fingers fucking me, your cock stretching me out, come inside? Please, Joe, I need your cum, wanna feel you spill inside me.”

Suddenly, I was pinned down, he seized my wrists, keeping them above my head, his chest heaving, my legs wrapped around his waist, my heels digging into his lower back, “So pretty like this, baby, fuck. Say something like that again, you love it when I fuck you, yeah? Coming for the third time and it’s only the middle of the night. I can use those fingers on you till the sun is up, darling, keep you full of my cum,” he bucked his hips faster, the lewd sound of our bodies slapping echoing through the room, his face dangerously close to mine, his breaths hot, burning my cheeks. The dirty promises he whispered, made me clench up “You’re addicting, you know that?“ my voice came out almost soundless, but loud enough for him to hear. He kissed me, bending my arms to hold them on both sides of my head, not willing to let go, thumbs rubbing little circles on the insides of my palms as he devoured my lips, slipping his tongue in, thrusting in and out of my swollen cunt, so affectionate. I didn’t even fight him, too exhausted and eager to come. 

“You are addicting, honey,” his palms gripped my thighs and he pushed my leg over his shoulder, fucking me deeper and rougher, nuzzling my neck, biting and marking my skin, “Could stay like this forever.”

“M’close,” I sobbed, scratching his back, feeling his chest weighing me down, the chain on his neck hanging low, tickling my skin, his curls falling down, brushing my forehead.

“I know, baby,” his lips were all over my neck and my face, “Give it up to me.”

The sensation of him being so deep, his low voice in my ear and my nails scratching his skin spurred me to come harder, I locked in a long spasm, gasping for air, arching my spine off the mattresses to meet his body as my high came crushing over, “Joe, oh, Joseph. Fuck—“

His nose brushed mine as he kept peppering my skin with tiny pecks, pushing my leg off his shoulder and propping himself up, his palms pressing the sheets.

“Give me a minute, okay?” he planted a quick kiss on my temple, fastening his pace and clenching his jaws, his forehead dropped to my shoulder, his moans grew louder. 

“Joseph,” I slid my hands down to his ass, squeezing and pushing him further, helping him move, deliberately clenching around him, “So good, baby, please don’t stop.” 

His cock twitched, his face sunk into my neck as the warm thick liquid spurted out, filling me in, his movements coming to a hilt.

When the high subsided, he searched for my face, drowsy and exhausted. Slowly he pulled out, snatching a pillow and pushing it under my lower back, “Can’t let it spill this time,” he smiled faintly, bending down to kiss my tummy,  his heavy palm flat on my stomach, his thumb pushing his cum back inside, “Gotta keep you full, darling.”

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn edit #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things netflix #eddie x reader #eddie x you

[cjrights]

Song name Specific lyrics

Softly -clairo ‘Is it alright to feel this way so early’ ‘touch you softly, I call you up late at night’

Apple cider -beabadoobee Entire fucking song

Work song -hozier ‘No grave can hold my body down I’ll crawl home to her’ ‘cuz my baby’s sweet as can be she give me toothache just from kissing me’

Cherry wine -hozier ‘It’s a crime that she’s not around most of the time’ cuz I always miss you so fucking much baby xx

hold the sun -maya hawke ‘If I could I would kiss you’ ‘I’d hold you like soft water hold the sun against the sky’

Right I had to stop myself but these are the lyrics and songs that make me think of you whenever I hear them.

I’ll work on a list of ones that remind me of you kinda more like your personality and that yknow

-🧃

i typed out a whole response to this and it got deleted. but here’s second try

this was pov me when this came in

THIS IS SO FUCKING SWEET 🥹🥹

the fact that you not only have one but MORE than one song that reminds you of me just makes my heart so so happy

i feel so seen and i love you

AND THERES MORE? you might just kill me

#🧃 anon #i love my anons #cj loves music #i like don’t know what to do

[asukaskerian]

How would you say that relationships structure changes in your verse for the future of the world that you’re working in for cherry wine -the normal time of Naruto? Since so many people and clans are gone now because of the wars and just being a ninja in general is dangerous. I figure for civilians they would be less affected and would still be normal sibling sets marrying other sets traditionally. Do people start mostly marring/dating in singles, I’m sure they already exist but as a more general rule, or creating more casual polyamorous style relationships, by having more friendly platonic, partners that are not necessarily blood related like a sibling or cousin but a best friend, that they choose to form a set with, possibly then marrying/dating a another set.

When I was originally trying to pose this question I was only really thinking about marriage but just realized that more modern “dating” as we know it with the system of sets would be a nightmare versus courting.

ohohohoho

long story short : dating as a sibling set is slowly gonna go the way of arranged marriage in general. traditional clans will still push for it and may enforce it or not depending on how well they argued for their clan right when they signed on to be part of the village, but by the time Naruto is born it won't be the law in Konoha and a lot of normal-people cities.

that's because :

1. konoha being a mess of a LOT of different clans and rules had to pick and choose and discard a lot of redundant or contradictory stuff to make a coherent legal code, and since separate clans were losing people by the hundreds due to war and most of them already had a "adopt the survivors into another litter" tradition it wasn't hard to make it into "people can legally adopt in and out of their own litter", even if they probably did have to add a "unless their clan says differently" sub clause due to pressure from the founding members. it's still great for the civilians and the clan-less ninja and contributes to a general loosening of rules even in the more traditional clans.

and the major one: 2. there's no XX, XY business here, every single ABO person in this universe has the same sex chromosomes; the only reason they express different reproductive roles is their hormone balance. it's basically decided in the womb; the first foetus who tips over into reproductiveness one way or another smothers the development of reproductive and secondary sexual characteristics in the other kids, but the building blocks are here, the organs are here, they're just, like, tiny and asleep.

so the SECOND scientists figure out how to fuck with hormonal levels in a safe and consistent way, there will be alphas and omegas who will RUN for the chance to be a beta and not have to shoulder the baby-making and the heats and the specific potentially-oppressive clan rules, and betas who will be overjoyed that they CAN, actually, replace a dead or barren sibling to have the litter's children... or divorce a litter that doesn't get along in two and STILL have a reproductive member each so they're not held hostage by the threat of dying without a family of their own... or just experience something they really really always wanted to be... and there will be siblings who trade off the baby making ability every five years even though they stay a set, or even decide to have several alphas or omegas in a single set or what-have-you.

(i'm sharing this because it's not gonna be in the fic, mind, tobirama won't be the one finding that out, so it's not a spoiler; it's gonna start coming up around minato's generation. orochimaru was working on it probably. XD)

#ABO quest

[demxnicprxncess]

hii saw you are open to requests and was talking about writing kink, if not a problem may I pls request something with evan peters' character in ahs kit walker (or if you don't do characters it can be evan himself) where he is a sub to a dom female reader with a heavy spanking kink who, with his consent of course, uses it all the way on him and does not go easy on him with it at all? idk maybe he can use his safeword or something as well lol.. i hope it feels ok, thank u sm and hope you have a great day xx

Here's my Christmas gift to you sweet child.

Warning: Smut?, Spanking, safe words, Fluffffff

"red" Kit Walker x FEM!Reader

"Are you sure you still wanna do this Kit?" I looked down at the man layed across my lap, his soft jiggly ass open for my view while his hard dick lays n between my thighs slightly. "Positive." I smile before placing it gentle teasing smack on his ass. "You know your safe word right my little prince?" He nodded. "Well, what is it?" "Red." I smiled approvingly before raising my hand up and plummeting it down to the soft flesh of his ass. A whimper coming from his beautiful lips followed behind a moan as his dick slid over my thigh. "M-more.." I smack down on his as again. "What was that?" His eyes filled with tears of embarrassment. "More... please masta." I gave his ass light taps of approval before moving to get him to lay on the bed. "'atta boy." I placed another firm smack on his ass the jiggle triggering that deep down arousal in me. I felt myself getting hotter and stripped myself of my shirt. "Are you good?" he nods slightly, his form of approval making me confident enough to grab a little whip. "Are you okay with this my love?" I can see the slight thought of I don't know and yes. "Y-yes masta" his accent traveling through his voice causing heat to rush to the right areas. "Such a pretty boy." I place a light kiss on his lower back just above his ass before placing on kiss on each cheek. He moaned softly into the bed but got cut of as I cracked the whip on his ass. Not enough to cut through the skin but enough to leave that feeling of where you feel like your bleeding but you're not, you cracked the whip again in the same spot. Dropping the whip you push his hips into the bed causing him to grind against it whimpering. "Masta I-" I pulled his hair making his head come back. "Shut up kitty" He almost whined at my harshness. "Momma?" I looked down at him smacking him again. "I said hush." His tears brimmed his eyes again. "My baby boy is such a pretty crier" he moaned softly and I spanked him again but harder this time. "I dont-" I cover his mouth shaking my head no and kiss his neck before smacking his soft ass again and gripping it soothingly. "Red." I heard his voice whine out making me stop immediately. "What?" He looked at me with tear filled eyes as I rolled him over onto his back. "Kit, baby, oh goodness I'm so sorry." I quickly ran out of our room to get him his favorite snacks and drink sitting it on the bed, giving him comfy clothes and even cutting on his favorite shows. His face stained with streaks of tears I instantly started littering his face with kisses. "My prince, I'm so so sorry" I hugged him as he shoved the cherry in his mouth, choking he soft sobs that broke my heart to hear. "What was it baby?" He sniffles softly into my breast soaking my bra and boobs. "You were- too- too harsh.." I immediately held him tighter. "Aww baby I'm so sorry, I'll never hurt you again alright Mr. Walker?" he smiled into my chest. "Alright." I laid back with him still in my arms as he drifted off into sleep. I can't believe I hurt him.

yall, did I eat? Idrk. But anyways there's that!!! hope yall like it

Taglist: @yes-divine-ruler, @ppawmpkin

lmk if u wanna be added or removed!

#ahs fandom #american horror story #evan peters imagine #ahs hotel #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #kai anderson smut #kai anderson #smut #kit walker smut #kit walker x reader #sub kit walker #dom femme #ahs cult #ahs murder house #ahs asylum

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers

/not forcing

Hihi!! Thanks for the ask!!!

1. Reading! Mostly fiction, but anything that's Not Math™️ should be fine lol. I've been so busy studying these last few years(the woes of Asian education systems, haha😅), but I read <Mickey7> a while ago, which was amazing. I've also been meaning to pick back up on <Guns, Germs, and Steel> by Jared Diamond. It's a bit difficult I guess, but it's so interesting! Which leads to the second thing:

2. Humanities. Something about humanities just appeals to me, yknow? History, art, literature, etc.

3. Writing!!! I have so many WIPs and not enough finished works OTL. My current biggest projects are my DSMP superpower AU(named, but not revealing for now), Temporal Transcendence(SBI-centric DSMP fic), and Project Orpheus(DSMP fic-turned-original fiction). I love my babies.

4. Cherry coke. Hehe🍒🥤💕

5. Music, movies, TV shows, anything to watch/listen to while chilling! I listen to a lot of rock(?) & pop I think? Currently obsessed with Em Beihold's <Numb Little Bug> and Panic! At The Disco's <High Hopes>, plus Alan Walker's discography. Fall Out Boy and CG5 are also cool! For movies, <The Emperor's New Groove>, most Ghibli movies(I haven't watched the more recent ones yet, which is why I say "most"), and <Nimona> come to mind. My favorite shows are <Alex Rider>(based on one of my favorite books), <Bee and Puppycat>, and <Mashle: Magic and Muscles>(though I only just started watching it last Sunday)! Plus <The Umbrella Academy>, nearly forgot haha.

Again, thanks for the ask!!

-Lilly xx

#Lilly gets an ask