#I’ve picked this shit every season

[litg-ish]

idk what to say im just a slow burn girlie

[jyoongim]

Hey there! My first time asking/making a request lol, but I had two separate ideas and you can just pick one or something.

First was an alastor w/ fem reader, it's mating season for red and this ones diff bc he's had his eyes on reader or smthn for a min and decides this season he's going to do his best to show off to her, lmao like "look look, I can provide and protect!" a bit intense bc it's mating season, but reader is CLUELESS until at some point it finally clicks and she's all "huh.. ohh SHIT"

Second idea was one that I thought would be funny, like so.. lucifer finds out Al likes reader and even tho he doesn't really like Al he's like " don't worry, I can definitely help with this" but he's lowkey a terrible wingman even tho miraculously it somehow helps in the end???

Again you can choose from either and end it however you want, fluff/nsfw/sfw. Or if none of this is your cup of tea then just ignore me!!

Not me on a fluff binge hehehhehe

hope you guys like it! I’ve been a bit slow to write and upload but I’ve enjoyed reading every request! I’m still taking a slight break but I try to give y’all SOMETHING. Hope y’all don’t mind!!

Lots of love-jyoongim

——————————————————————————————-

Mating season.

Usually an awful time of year that made Alastor more on edge than usual.

But something was different this year…

This mating season, the deer demon wanted a partner….

Alastor had his sights on a pretty doe and he was going to ensure that she was going to be his for the season…

—————————————————————————

You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you greeted everyone as you took a seat for breakfast.

Pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. Eggs. Fruits.

Your stomach rumbled at the delicious smells.

”Fine hellish day isn’t my dear?” Alastor chirped as he piled food fruits and meats on your plate. You blinked at the amount of food on your plate.

”Al my stomach is only so big” you giggled causing the demon to hum as he took a seat beside you.

”A full belly makes a happy doe” he smiled as you happily ate the food.

Alastor watched as you ate, a soft purr rumbling in his chest.

”Why don’t we go for an outing dear?” Alastor suggested as you let out a burp.

You agreed.

It was rather chilly for Hell.

You and Alastor waltz around the city. You happily looked at the displays in many windows. 

You didn’t know Alastor’s agenda but you didn’t mind accompanying him.

You must have lagged behind him a tad as a demon slithered up beside you as you looked over some jewelry.

”what’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” A deep voice asked causing you jumped, surprised.

”O-Oh hi um I’m just looking that’s all” you gave a nervous smile. Your skiddish nature took over as you took a step back. The demon advanced on you. He was big, could easily overtake you if need be.

”Why don’t I show you around? I don’t see a ring. I can show you a good time” sharp teeth smiled at you menacingly.

Your ears flattened, you might be  small but you could defend yourself. You bared your teeth at the demon making him chuckle

”Now now little lady lets not get ugly” 

You hadn’t realized he had backed you into a corner.

The demon pounced, making you screech as he pinned you to the wall.

Your ears perked as heavy static buzzed through the air. The demon didn’t seem to notice 

 “You’ll make a fine piece of ass”

Black smoke poured through the alleyway and static popped.

”That’s no way to talk to a lady”

Black tentacles dragged the demon and blood-curdling screams escaped the demon, but were quickly silenced as Alastor ripped him apart.

”mine mine mine” Alastor growled as he chomped on the demon.

You gagged as chunks of flesh flew around.

Satisfied that the distasteful demon was in his belly, Alastor looked towards you.

A large sharp claw traced your face, he was growling but his eyes were soft. He morphed to be a bit smaller and helped you up, his red eyes roaming over you.

”I’m okay Al” you reassured giving him a smile. He seemed to calm down and looped your arm with his.

”dishonorable filfth” he hissed as he made his way back to the hotel. You pouted you really wanted to buy something but you’ve had enough excitement for one day.

You looked at Alastor and tilted your head “Al your antlers”

The usual small antlers were now big and standing tall on top his head.

”Nice rack” you giggled making the red demon smirk, his chest puffing proudly.

”than-thank you for all that. I really appreciate Al” you said sheepishly.

The tall demon hummed 

“Don’t mention it my dear. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”

——————————————————————————

Alastor had been lingering around you since the little accident. He had growled at anyone who got too close to you.

He was very possessive and protective of you, which you thought was sweet that the demon was worried about you.

You groaned as the sun peaked through your window. You sat up and you blinked in confusion.

Flowers, breakfast, and a tiny box.

Rest up little Doe ~Alastor

Your tail wagged in happiness. You don’t know why Alastor had been so attentive but you were eating it up.

You placed the flowers in a vase and began to eat breakfast.

Your face wrinkled as you pulled a piece of meat from your teeth.

what the fuck?

It was soft and fleshy. You shuddered but ate the rest of your breakfast. You opened the tiny box and keened when you saw the bracelet you had been looking at earlier in the week.

There were cute little radio themed charms.

You quickly cleaned up and went downstairs.

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting in the lobby chatting.

You smiled and waved, your bracelet caught Vaggie’s attention.

”Hey where you get that?” The question also caught Charlie’s attention, she immediately began gushing

”Oh my! Did Alastor get that for you? Omg so cute!”

Vaggie deadpanned “Alastor have been very cozy towards you what’s that about?”

You shrugged “I don’t know but it can’t be anything bad right?”

————————————————————————————-

“I see you got my gift” Alastor said, coming behind you as you red on the couch. You smiled “Its really nice Al but why the sudden gift giving?”

Alastor smiled “well my dear its mating season”

You blinked. Mating season? What did that have to do-

OH SHIT!

Your eyes widened “Y-You’ve been…”

His lips pulled into a genuine smile “Courting you? Why of course my dear!”

His hand circled the wrist with the bracelet. He brought it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.

Your body shuddered in delight and your ears flicked as he nipped at your fingers.

Your nose wrinkled at the smell of his pheromones, your tail wagging.

You let out a purr as you rubbed yourself against him and took off running, throwing a wink at him as he followed suit, giggling as he made a grab at your hips as you evaded him.

”Come and solidify your place Mr. Radio Demon” you teased slipping into his room.

A soft growl escaped Alastor as he followed you and had his shadow guard the door.

[turcott3]

west side

lando norris x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, alcohol, smut, p in v, creampie, and ofc as per usual!!!!! fluff!!!!!

positions fics masterlist

~i’m gonna make you want more, i’m gonna be your new favorite~

-

you laid on the couch with a glass of wine, chatting with lando, who you became friends with through your cousin. the two of you had grown somewhat close, however, you always felt a bit of tension when you were together, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. the two of you sat watching youtube downing drinks. you were already past the point of a buzz, you were a bit tipsy. both of you were.

“i feel like i haven’t had sex in so long.”

“lando is the middle of the season, that checks out.” you laugh.

“yeah but like, it kinda sucks.”

“you like to get your dick wet huh?” you laugh.

“yep, no shame in it.” he admits confidently.

“you wanna know something crazy?” you say picking up your glass.

“hit me.”

“a man has never made me finish.”

“really?” he gasps.

“nope, only i’ve been able to accomplish that shit myself.” you say, face slightly pink at the fact that you admitted that to him.

“wow.” he scoffs.

“i wish i knew what it felt like to cum at the hands of someone else.” you continue, digging yourself a deeper hole.

“well i can show you, if you want.” he states taking a sip. you didn’t know why, but suddenly your heart dropped.

“oh uh, i mean you dont have to-“

“maybe i want to? i’m not pity fucking you y/n. you’re gorgeous.” he replies. you couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face at his words. you scooted close to him boldly, taking his face into your hands, connecting your lips lazily. you could taste the alcohol on both of your breaths, becoming more intoxicated by the second. not more drunk, but more horny.

“lay down for me sweetheart.” he states as you pull away. you pull your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. you lay back and he crawls over you, attaching his lips to your neck as your fingers pulled at his curls.

“lando please.” you beg, tugging at the brunette’s curls lightly. he pulls away giggling.

“so anxious.” he teases, helping you pull your pants off before discarding all of his own. you scanned his dark, toned body up and down, observing the way the light hit all of his muscles perfectly. you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. maybe the tension you couldn’t land you mind on, was sexual all along.

“i wanna do this the right way. so before you ask, no, i’m not eating you out. as much as i want to.” he smirks, leaning over you attaching your lips.

“don’t care, just want you in me.” you mumbled as you watched him rub himself hard.

“what’s that pretty girl?” he replies not hearing you.

“lan please, fuck me.” you say just a little louder and he smirks. he sits up positioning himself between your legs, running his hard cock through your folds before pushing himself into your wet pussy.

“god so wet for me huh princess?” he giggles as you attempt to gain your composure. you grip onto his shoulders as your head remained still between his hands that were on either side of you. he thrusted into you deeply, wrapping your legs around his hips. so far everything felt good. with every thrust he stretched you to a new level, his tip brushing the sensitive spot in your core.

“fuck lando.” you moan out.

“yeah you like that huh?” he grunts and all you can do is nod. your nails dug into his shoulders harshly. your moans beginning to be drowned out by the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he picked up his speed. he brought his lips to yours to quiet you down as your moans became yelps.

“shhh baby, you’re gonna wake up the neighbors.” he coos in your ear before replanting his lips onto yours. his kiss had become addicting to you, almost more so than the way his dick was pounding into you. he pulled out of you to roll over and get up on all fours, he plunged back into you easily, fucking you deeper and harder than before. you were a moaning mess, tears welling up in your eyes.

“oh my god.” you say. the familiar feeling of your orgasm was close. closer than you thought. it came out of nowhere.

“you gonna cum for me?” he smirks.

“fuck yes i think i a- oh my god.” you begin, interrupted by an orgasm ripping through your abdomen.

“good girl.” he mutters in your ear, slowing down his thrusts as you began to come down, your legs quivering slightly.

“oh my god, you made me fucking cum.” you giggle as he came to a stop, pulling out of you.

“told you.” he smirks.

“you’re fucking incredible.” you say grabbing onto his face and bringing him in for a deep kiss.

“too bad i didn’t get my turn.” he frowns jokingly.

“now hold on, that would be unfair of me. sit down.” you say and he does as he’s told. you straddle his hips shakily, sinking yourself onto him. you felt yourself get horny all over again. he placed his hands on your hips, assisting you in bouncing up and down on his thick cock. you knew he wasn’t gonna last long at the way he grunted every time you came down. you laid a kiss on his lips, lingering until you felt his cock twitch and spill his climax deep into you. you fucked him until he was dry.

“fucking hell.” he grunts leaning his head back to look at the ceiling.

“fuck this is gonna be messy.” you groan realizing the mess you’d make once you stood up.

“i mean you could just not move.” he suggests, his brain currently replaced by dick.

“very funny.” you reply slapping him lightly on the chest as you pull him out of you, the mixture of your climaxes forming a small puddle around the base of his cock. you dropped to your knees, sucking him clean of the juices, his jaw dropping at the sight.

“better?” you reply wiping your mouth.

“uh huh.” he replies, no words forming.

“uh here’s your clothes, i know you have practice tomorrow i don’t wanna keep you all night.” you reply picking his clothes up off the floor. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him he could leave. you knew you cared about him but you didn’t know his feelings towards you.

shit for all you knew you liked him. after all he was the only man that knew how to make you finish. he was your new favorite.

“is it alright if i stay?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

“oh uh- yes of course. i just wasn’t sure that you’d want to.”

“of course i do, what do you think this is? i didn’t fuck you out of pity, i told you that.” he giggles pulling his boxers back on and laying back on the couch.

“come here pretty girl.” he says opening his arms to you as you pulled your baggy tshirt over your head. you positioned yourself between his legs, laying your head on his chest as he strokes your hair.

“i’m glad you didn’t want to leave.” you mumble.

“what was that?”

“i’m glad you didn’t want to leave.” you state louder, leaning up to look at him. he replies by guiding your lips back to his, his tongue plunging into your mouth with ease.

“so what do we do now?” you reply giggling, pulling away from him.

“you busy tomorrow? i got a paddock pass.” he smiles.

“i’ll clear my schedule.” you blush, laying your head against his chest, dozing off to the sound of his slow heart beat and the feeling of his fingers running delicately through your hair.

“sweet dreams my pretty girl.” he whispers, that being the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

-

[weixuldo]

Out Back

Linecook! Anakin x F!Reader

a/n: lol this literally took me so long I’m so sorry!! But I’ve been craving a lil modern ani WORKING MANNNN anyways hehe here it is.

NSFW mdni!

Anakin is in a mood and you intend to get to the bottom of it

Warnings: gn!reader, cursing, banter, hand job, unprotected sex, cum, outdoor sex, almost getting caught, anakin is a moody brat

________________________

“Yea- I got it!” Anakin annoyedly shouted through the window for the nth time as waitresses flew through the kitchen shouting changed to orders- changes Anakin had to fix. 

More char, too rare, more seasoning, no tomatoes in the salad, parm crust

Anakin was more irritable than normal today for some reason but no one could quite pinpoint why. He was usually a flirty “know it all” but today everyone was walking on eggshells around him. 

He brushed his sweat sheened forehead against the sleeve of his black t-shirt before continuing to flip the line of steaks in front of him. He wasn’t the only one in the kitchen, but today he was working with a bunch of newbies and he was struggling to correct their mistakes while keeping up with demand. 

“Shit! Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Anakin yelled when one of the new cooks crossed over from the salad station to the grills without letting the others know. 

“Say behind if you’re gonna be crawling around people- Fuck!” Anakin shouted angrily. 

The other cook bit his tongue and nodded like a puppy that had just been scolded for chewing on the furniture. 

The manager had been watching Anakin’s increasingly bad mood and was debating stepping in. 

You arrived for your shift 15 minutes early, just like always and headed to the POS station to clock in. Your manicured nails clicked against the greasy screen before logging you in. 

“Finally- Bout time you got here, rush has been killin’ us today” Hera said in passing as you tied your server's apron around your waist. 

“What do you mean “finally”?! I worked night shift and had to stay to help Ahsoka close til 1 am and I’m still 15 min early” you half laugh- half snapped back at the older server. 

You passed by the food window to see if a certain someone was working; lo and behold he was. Anakin always looked so focused when he was in the kitchen, you could say that after months of observing the slight furrow of his brow when mixing the salads or when his tongue peeked out of the side of his mouth when he was plating dishes to run. 

But what you noticed most of all was his alluring appearance; to you, it seemed he should be on the cover of a magazine rather in a small dingy kitchen in the back of some random restaurant in the city. 

His angular face and sharp features had every new waitress fawning over him- and of course he flirted right back; no one knew his relationship status but one could only guess he had none. 

When you first applied, he flirted with you during your interview before being swatted away by your manager. You left feeling as if you were special based on how he acted. 

But once you actually started working there you heard all the rumors. He had gotten with most, if not all of the other waitresses (even some of the married ones). The other woman warned you not to get too attached because he never stayed in one place long and was seemingly scared off by commitment or anything other than maybe a two time hook up. 

That wasn’t really your thing so you decided not to get involved at all- of course you still flirted with him, but you kept the extent of that in the kitchen. 

“Hey hotshot- how’s rush serving ya?” You joked through the window as you grabbed the newest salad to run to table 10. 

Anakin had been so focused that he barely registered anyone was even in front of him but once he picked up on your sweet voice his head snapped up. 

He was about to respond in his normal flirty manner but then he remembered what had him in such a bad mood in the first place… you. 

Servers get discounted meals if they come in on their days off and the last time he worked it just so happened that you were not. When he overheard the other girls talking about your appearance he was going to go out and chat it up- that was until he saw you sitting across from another man. 

From further observation he deducted that it wasn’t a cousin or brother, nor was it a long term friend… you were on a date. And Damn did you look good.

Anakin was no stranger to the fuck boy lifestyle and keeping a nonchalant attitude about others; but something about you sitting there with someone else struck a chord in him. 

He realized that the past few months of “flirting” with the new girl had turned into actual pining.

As much as he hated to admit it- he was attached. 

At first he chalked the unfamiliar feeling of desire to being annoyed that you weren’t falling for his normal tricks that worked on everyone else.

But then he actually spent more time with you; accompanying him for his smoke breaks out back, complimenting him on his precision and skill in the kitchen, when he drove you home when your car was in the shop… 

Somewhere in between all of that he found himself really wanting something more than just a hookup with you. And everyone in the kitchen could tell, except you. 

He never flirted with anyone else when you were around and kept his other comments to a minimum even when you weren’t there. He stopped answering any of the late night texts asking for him to come over from other waitresses (causing a few to quit). 

The other cooks in particular noticed how much he blushed when you entered the kitchen- and no, that much redness was not just caused by the heat of the grill. 

All of his suppressed feelings came to a head when he saw you smiling away in that booth yesterday with a guy that wasn’t him. 

“Fine.” He grumbled out to you as he tossed up the next plate to the window. 

You took his cold response as him just being tired and swiftly ran the food. 

Once you came back he had moved to the grill station with his broad back to you.  

A bit odd- Anakin never gave up an opportunity to talk to you. But whatever, he was just in a mood. 

The rest of the day went by with the normal rush but once the clock hit 4:00 pm, you clocked out to take your break. You passed the cooks area on the way to the back and didn’t see Anakin, he must be on his break too. 

Instead of sitting on your phone, scrolling through your friend’s posts- you set out to find the sandy haired cook. There really were only two places Anakin would be on break: the bathroom or out back to smoke a cig; the latter being more likely. 

The cool fresh night air was a relief compared to the stuffy hot kitchen that you had been running around all day. Without having to even look over you could already smell the tell tale smoke of Anakin’s Lucky Strikes. 

You approached the moody cook quietly and took a seat next to him on top of the transport crates. 

“Finally found you- have you been avoiding me, hot shot?” you joked, using a nickname you had been calling him since you knew that the flirting wasn’t anything to read into with him. 

He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke out of his nose and slowly turning towards you. 

“No but if I were trying to, it obviously didn’t work,” he said coldly. 

Maybe he actually was upset…

“What's going on with you today Anakin?” you asked, genuinely concerned. 

“Since when do you care?” he snapped, making you instinctively pull back. 

He noticed your aversion towards his words and immediately cursed himself; he took another drag and hung his head. 

“I-I just wanted to check on you… but I’ll leave you alone now” you said solemnly as you stood from your place beside him. 

Before you could get your hand on the door he called out your name, making you turn to see him looking straight at you. 

“What Anakin?” you sighed, no matter his attitude you just couldn’t get rid of the soft spot you had for him (maybe deep down you still liked him). 

He took a deep breath and put his cig out on the side of the crate he was sitting on. Was he really about to reveal the real reason he was being so dramatic? God, how embarrassing. 

“Friday… who was that guy you were with?” 

It took you a minute to even remember who he was referring to but once you did you groaned and hid your face in your hands.

“That’s my best friend’s older brother- he’s been trying to get with me since I was a sophomore in high school”.

Anakin felt his heart skip (now he was really embarrassed).… He didn’t fuck up his chances, but he needed to act quickly- that was too close. 

You cringed at the memory of the date until you realized why Anakin would have asked that in the first place and a playful smirk found its place onto your face: “But why do you ask?”.

“Cause I want you” he said, eyes filled with passion. 

Wow. You really weren’t expecting him to be so forward. 

“Well you want everyone” you brushed it off with a light laugh.

“No. Not like this.” He could feel his body heating up- he hadn’t genuinely confessed to anyone in ages nor had he wanted someone so bad. 

“What are you talking about Anakin?” you asked shyly as he guided you back to your place beside him. 

“Ever since you walked through that door on your interview day… I just can’t get you out of my mind and I just…” he trailed off before looking back down at his calloused hands. 

“Do you say that to every girl who doesn’t immediately fall for you?” you scoffed as you shook your head. 

It sounded so cliche and honestly you weren’t convinced. But maybe it was also because you were realizing how much you wanted him… you just couldn't afford to be hurt. 

“I’m being serious- and no… I don’t” he said seriously- he was deeply regretting the persona he had been assigned with. 

Anakin watched anxiously as you sat quietly, lost in thought. Eventually he had a juvenile idea (but it might just work), he pulled out his phone and went back to a text conversation he had with his best friend, Ben Kenobi, and showed you the screen. 

You’ll be fine Anakin, about time you actually get your feelings in check

What do u mean?

I just mean it has been awhile since you’ve actually shown genuine interest in someone

…

Exactly. 

Once you scanned those he took the phone back and scrolled further down. 

Fuck Ben, I feel like i’m losing my mind I cant stop thinking abt her. 

Anakin, just ask her out.

Dude, its not that simple… like she thinks I’m just a fuckboy, idk every time I try to get more serious she just brushes it off- It just sucks cause I’m the one that made this image of myself

You know I cannot lie to you, you did. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t fix it now. 

You really didn’t know what to say… he seemed really genuine. In a way you felt a small bit of joy that he had been in his head about you because he had been doing to same to you. 

“Anakin… I really don’t know what to say?” You mumbled softly. 

“Say you’ll give me a chance- say you feel the same-“

His vulnerability was endearing and something in you just felt he was truthful and quite frankly, you did feel the same. Anakin watched with bated breath as he scanned your face for any sign of answer. 

His lips parted as he was about to ask another question when you grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. 

His blue eyes widened once he realized what you had done, but soon closed them in contempt, desperately returning the passion. 

You were about to break away when he pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, his experience was definitely evident now. 

Soon he stood and motioned you to wrap your legs around his waist as he took you behind the shipping containers so that you weren’t directly in the line of the door. 

He held a strong hand behind your head as he pressed your back against the brick wall and began to move his kisses downwards. 

“Oh Ani” you moaned as he nibbled and sucked the most sensitive parts of your neck. 

He felt his dick twitch at the nickname, “Fuck, call me that again beautiful” he groaned into your neck as you raked your fingers through his sandy locks. 

“Ani-“ you gasped as he pressed his muscular thigh right against your throbbing core. 

“Ride it, babe” he huffed through his nose. 

And ride it you did. He knew just what angles to move his leg to make it the most pleasurable for you. 

You worked your clit against his tight muscles and felt your panties becoming soaked. Whimpers and pathetic mewls escaped your throat each time he tensed. 

Anakin could hardly contain himself as he watched the scene in front of him unfold. The way your smaller hands pawed at his biceps, the way your cute little thighs tensed around his much larger one, your absolutely beautiful expressions- after imagining what you would look like for so long, none of his fantasies compared. 

Soon his attention was pulled back to the present when he felt one of your eager hands tugging off his leather belt. Oh shit- this is really happening.

“My God Ani” you gasped once you pulled his jeans down enough to see his straining erection. 

He had on basic black briefs but what wasn’t basic was his size. Of course in the past you had imagined what he might look like outside of work (or outside of clothes) but none of that could have prepared you for the reality. 

“What?” he asked with a confident tone. 

You halted your movements on his thigh to really focus on what you were seeing. His rock hard member throbbed in anticipation of your soft touch; a small wet patch formed around his tip. The sight mesmerized you; you couldn’t count how many times you had imagined how he would look and finally… you were about to find out. 

“You can touch it, you know,” he said, tilting his head slightly. 

Of course you wanted to touch it- you wanted to touch him more than anything, but suddenly you were feeling shy. What if he had better in the past? What if you weren’t good enough for his liking and he took everything back?

Anakin must have noticed your wonder and hesitation because he guided your smaller hand towards his clothed cock with a smile, “it’s alright, you don’t have to be shy”. 

Once your warm palm wrapped around the thinly clothed member, Anakin sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes- his cock throbbed in your hand as you tested the waters by sliding your palm against the fabric. 

When you felt you were ready, your fingers creeped up towards the elastic waistband and nimbly gripped the edge. You watched intently as every drag of your finger revealed more and more of Anakin’s tanned skin until a few wiry hairs appeared and finally his fully erect cock popped out from its confines. Anakin gasped as his cock slapped the side of your hip. 

You wasted no time wrapping your hand around him and running a gentle thumb over his slit. Soon Anakin shoverd your bottoms off as well and began running his skilled fingers between your folds. He was mesmerized by you and couldn’t decide where to look; your hands pumping his long member, his hands between your shaky thighs, or your pretty face twisted in pure ecstasy. 

You couldn't take it any longer, you needed to feel him- feel every vein, every groove, every pulse-

“Anakin, need you in me” you whimpered into his ear as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. 

Anakin thought briefly about the possibility of security cameras catching the two of you, but he figured if they were working- they had already seen enough to know what was about to happen. 

“Fuck it” he muttered before flipping your around and lining himself up with your dripping heat. In one swift movement, he entered you and moaned at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls enveloping him. He thrusted in and out of your hole with wild ferocity as he chased his long awaited high. But once you began lifting your hips to angle him deeper, he lost it. 

“Fuck- Fuck!” he swore while he braced himself against the wall with one hand to regain his composure. 

His thighs trembled as he reluctantly pulled out of you and flipped you around to face him; never had ANakin looked so focused- not even in the kitchen. Suddenly he slammed you back down onto his cock with a guttural moan when the back door busted open and your very frantic manager called out, “Skywalker, you back here?! We need ya back on the line”. 

Anakin grit his teeth and buried his face into your neck to let out a few more grunts before clearing his throat and exclaiming, “Yea- sorry, lemme just put out my cig”.

You struggled to keep quiet as Anakin’s skilled fingers worked your clit as you bounced on his dick. When he deemed you too loud to stay discreet, he placed an uncalculated hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence you. 

“Alright- just hurry it up” your manager yelled before rushing back in. 

Anakin barely had time to turn his head back to you before you took one of his slender fingers into your mouth, sucking and sliding your tongue around it as you made intense eye contact. 

“Ohh fuck” Anakin groaned under his breath before his beautiful blue eyes rolled back. 

And with a particularly tight spasm of your core, he felt himself letting go- 

“-m gonna- I’m gonna cum… shit- I’m gonna cum” he babbled as he jetted in and out of you in his final stretch. 

“P-pullout? D’ya need- need me to pull out?” he whimpered in desperation- if you didn’t give an answer soon, he wouldn't be able to help but cum inside. 

You nodded your head, partially expecting him to be annoyed with you, but he just nodded and quickly halted his movements and effortlessly lifted you off of him. Anakin’s eyes darted between your lower stomach, pussy, eyes and ground as if to ask where he should finish. You signaled to your stomach because that would be the easiest to clean up. Once he got your answer he almost immediately came; ropes of his warm, thick seed landed on your soft skin causing you to tense at the sensation. Anakin pumped his dick a few more times before leaning into you with labored breaths. 

“Holy shit” he breathed, causing you to laugh a little. 

Once his high washed over him and he stood without being dizzy he kissed you- “I’m so sorry I made a mess, I’ll clean you up with my apron”. 

He searched your eyes for just a moment before saying, “I know we got cut short and I'm so sorry that I have to go back in, but you should meet me after work so we can have all of the time in the world”. 

You smiled at his words and kissed him again as he cleaned up his spend. 

“And next time I'll take you on a proper date… I’m sorry our first time was out back- I fully intend on making that up to you. So what'd ya say? Give me another chance?” he said with a genuine smile. 

“Of course Ani- of course I will” 

***

Hope that was enjoyable for I guys haha- ik I liked it ;) also sorry again for my long wait periods 😭

[moonstruckme]

Hi love! Hope you’re well. I had a request for a reader who is always having nosebleeds, no matter the season, and one of the marauders (doesn’t matter who, could be all of them, I don’t have a preference) has to take care of her and she’s always feeling bad about it cuz it’s gross and lots of fluff. (Definitely not what happens to me almost weekly lol. I wish I had one of these boys when it happens😭) If not that’s totally okay!

<3

Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

cw: mention of blood

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 617 words

“It really was terrible,” you tell James, the two of you bent over a table in the library with your books forgotten in front of you. “I should know better than to get my hopes up about adaptations, but I just loved the book so much, and it was so suited for the screen…” 

James tuts, shaking his head. “They played you for a fool.” 

“They did! I have no idea how they messed it up that badly, the script was practically written for them. And I was so excited for the—” 

“Oh, oh.” The syllables fall from James’ lips as if dropped, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “Sweetheart, your nose—” 

You startle at the endearment, then again at the tenderness behind it, before you think to put a hand under your nose. Your fingertips come away red. 

“Oh, shit.” You groan, going to dig in your bag for your tissues. “Sorry, this happens.” 

“I’ve got it, just—here.” Before you know what’s happening, James has leaned across the table and is holding a cloth to your nose, his touch careful. “There we go. Almost got your shirt there.” 

You’re quick to replace his hand with your own, horrified. “Thanks. Sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for, you can hardly help it.” He starts going through his own bag, frowny but notably less flustered than is the standard reaction to your spontaneous bleeding. “Do you have any tissues?” 

“Yeah, in my bag. The small pocket.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your other hand, feeling the nature of the cloth stuck beneath your nostrils. “James, is this a handkerchief?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a sheepish sort of smile. “My mum likes them better than tissues, has it spelled to come back to my pocket every time I lose it. It’s been washed, though, don’t worry.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you mumble, but if James hears you he doesn’t comment, too busy going through your bag. 

He finds your tissue stash and leans his thighs against the library table to face you in your chair. He picks up your tie, dabbing at it. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” you say hastily. “I’m so sorry about this.” 

“Stop that,” he chides lightly, “you’ve nothing to apologize for. I don’t mind helping.” 

“But it’s—” you can’t help the fluster in your tone, somewhat disturbed by his lack of disturbance. “It’s gross! Anyway, it’s my blood, I should be the one cleaning it.” 

James smiles down at your tie, eyes flitting up to you like you’re the strange one. “It’s not gross. And unless you have some blood-transmitted disease I don’t know about, I’m not worried about it. Your hands are occupied anyway.” He seems satisfied with your tie, folding the tissue to a clean side. “Tilt your chin up for me, just for a second? Thanks, love.” 

He sets his hand on the side of your jaw to steady himself, the touch seemingly thoughtless, and swipes gently at the blood on your chin. You’ve got nothing to do but look at him, his lips and brow pinched slightly in concentration as he works. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

The way his thumb strokes briefly at your cheek is far from thoughtless, twin dimples appearing on either side of his smile. “Don’t worry about it.” There’s a teasing firmness to the words, like he’s daring you to do otherwise. “Do you need anything? Water?” 

You shake your head slowly, a smile creeping onto your face despite how you’re still pinching your nose shut with your hand. 

“Alright then.” He sits on the table, leaning back on his hands. “Tell me more about your horrible movie.”

[justporo]

Shooting Stars

A night of star showers is imminent in Baldur's Gate. You couldn't think of a better way to spend it but with Astarion and a sparkling glass of champagne in your hand - and lots of teasing banter- until the first star comes shooting. Because of course: there are wishes to be made and hopefully to be fulfilled.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Time to cook of the 2024 season! I originally wanted to use this for the Winter Challenge as well but eh, I rather wanted to take my time (and I'm happy about it - I'm only getting back in the saddle with writing now, break was very much needed). So have this piece of fluff, that is hopefully something for the soul to kick of this year of writing! This wonderful artwork was done by the lovely @britonell (thank you so much!).

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 2,9k

Song: All This And Heaven Too - Florence + The Machine

~~~

“Shit, I think I ripped one of my stockings”, you cursed while you rearranged your seat at the edge of the roof. Astarion relaxedly sitting beside you clicked his tongue and looked judgingly at you - but you knew he was only teasing. The sparkle in his ruby eyes spoke of nothing but affection and admiration as he looked at you and then towards the glittering night sky.

Tonight a shower of shooting stars was supposed to happen. The whole city had been raving about it for days since astronomers had shared the news of the upcoming celestial event. Probably every one who could afford so would be out and about to catch a glimpse of some of nature's magic. And of course - as was custom - to make some wishes and hope for the falling stars to kindly fulfil them.

Some of the stars on the firmament were twinkling already, as if they were shimmying, getting ready to fall out of their sockets and travel across the night sky. To grace all beings below them with their fleeting beauty.

Never had you seen something like this and you had been brimming with excitement from the first moment you had heard about it. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

When you had asked Astarion if he wanted to watch the star showers with you he had lifted one eyebrow and given you a kind of condescending if playful smile. Then, when he had answered his voice had dripped with sarcasm: “Oh darling, why would we need to watch some beautiful fallen stars when I already have one right in front of me.”

You had almost barfed onto his feet. Astarion had looked offended.

Then you had lost it so hard laughing that your vampire had needed to hold you up by your elbows so as to not let you slide onto the ground while you suffered from your hysteric fit.

“Astarion, love, you already have me - you can scrap the cheesy lines - please?”, you had pressed out through laughter and buried your face in his chest while Astarion had pouted a bit more about your snide remarks regarding his flirting techniques.

Of course, he hadn’t stopped. In fact, he’d made it a game over the next couple of days to come up with even much worse lines while you always desperately tried to keep it together.

“But darling, all my wishes have come true already with you by my side.”

“Love, I believe the night's cancelled. All stars are already in your eyes.”

“Oh, my heart, I’ve already fallen hard for you, why would you need another star?”

They got progressively worse the longer he kept going - and incredibly less inventive.

But of course you were still swooning on the inside, at least a little. Because after all, how couldn't you? Knowing that Astarion was indeed in love with you and that he really meant his words. Well, once you scraped all the gooey honey off it. What lay beneath was very sweet and much less sickening.

This game of his had gone on for several days until the night had finally arrived - and until even Astarion had almost run out of stupid pick-up lines.

The both of you had decided to dress up, just for the hell of it. This being one of the things you had adopted quickly from Astarion: indulging yourself, taking care of yourself and dressing for yourself - and for him of course, because you could never get enough of the stunned looks he threw you.

You were in a dress that Astarion had gifted you some time back and that was embroidered by the man himself. And the vampire in a finely stitched doublet that made him look positively regal and smoking. There was a fair amount of staring happening from both sides, hopefully not distracting from the actual event later on.

Then with lots of giggles from your side and terrible cursing from Astarion you had climbed onto the roof of your little Baldurian townhouse. This man could never do anything without commenting on it. When you had pointed out as much, he had narrowed his eyes at you and looked tempted to drag you down the small ladder again that led up to the roof. But you had swiftly moved out of his reach with a cackle - not without also making sure to give him a good view of your behind first by deliberately swishing open the slit in your skirt.

Carefully, you had scattered towards the edge over the old shingles then, until you could carefully settle down.

Obviously not carefully enough though since you feared that the delicate sheer fabric covering your slender legs might have been torn on a sharp edge when you had sat down. But it didn’t really matter. Astarion had already promised he’d rip these stockings off you (together with the set of naughty underwear you’d chosen specifically for him) with his teeth later in the night. Really, you were just presenting an opening for your eager lover.

With another curse under his breath, the vampire sat down beside you although he did so elegantly and immediately evoked the image of a lounging cat. The grace of the rogue really was unmatched.

You leaned back on your hands and angled one leg, putting it up on the edge while the other dangled over thin air. Astarion almost mirrored you with the way he seemed to sit comfortably there, leaning back, legs slightly spread and hanging over the edge while he observed the glittering night sky.

“Love, that’s no way to sit for a lady”, Astarion teased you with a promising grin while he eyed your angled leg, clad in nothing but a gauzy stocking, adorned with a delicate lace rim at the very top of your thigh - which was almost completely on display for him.

You angled your head at him and swayed your leg a little so the slit allowed for an even better view of your leg - careful to only tease for later.

“Good thing I am not a lady then”, you replied to your vampire, tongue in cheek.

“Oh yes, my love, it’s for the best. The way I’d single handedly ruin your reputation later tonight would be scandalous,” Astarion replied while he devoured you with his eyes from under his brows. In his head you could bet he was already letting his teeth graze over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. Oh, it would be a night to behold.

You laughed softly, throwing your head back. But then you let your leg softly fall onto the other, giving at least the illusion of decency again.

You grinned at the vampire, the vampire grinned back with promise.

Nothing would ever come close to this, to being with him: the playful banter, the easy companionship, the intense intimacy. You hummed contentedly while you slowly ripped your loving gaze of Astarion and let it wander over your surroundings.

Below you the streets of the Upper City seemed to fill up with the whole population of Baldur’s Gate. Of course everyone wanted the best sight of the night sky - and Upper just had the best spots. And what a good thing that you still had the vantage point even with all those people trying to find a neat stargazing spot.

Idle chatter drifted up towards you. People had brought food and drinks and a continuous hum of anticipation filled the cold night air, but you barely even noticed. For you there was merely your soulmate and you up on the roof of your home.

Behind you you had two crystal glasses waiting to be filled with some bubbling champagne Astarion had insisted upon. “If you’re going to make me sit up on some godsforsaken rooftop during wintertime only to crane your neck at the night sky you can look up at every night, I might as well bring a drink”, he’d said and rolled his eyes while he had grabbed not one, but two of the expensive bottles. You had simply shrugged - you wouldn’t say no if drinks were involved. And since you had figured out that it had been nearly half a year already since most everything had been dealt with, you felt it was only appropriate to celebrate this fact with a drink.

The vampire had whole-heartedly agreed when you had told him your observation. Astarion, of course, had been very well aware of that even before. He hadn’t stopped counting the days since his life had taken a turn for the better and, perhaps, he never would.

Up on the roof the rogue now procured his dagger, threw it up to flip it artfully and only then - when he was sure that he had your full attention - he took the first bottle with a sly grin. And then, in his histrionic manner, he swished the sharp blade up along the curve of the bottle neck and cleanly took off the head along with the cork.

Champagne immediately started foaming out of the bottle and Astarion was quick to grab the crystal glasses, both in one hand, and elegantly pour you each a glass of sparkling wine.

Somewhere below you heard someone yelp - apparently Astarion had unconsciously managed to hit someone with his display of skill. You looked down and saw an older gentleman rub the back of his head and turn towards you.

Quickly grabbing Astarion’s arm to make him pull back with you, you dragged up your legs with a giggle, hoping you could hide from the unwilling target. The vampire grinned broadly at you while he kept pouring - that little rascal.

You had to be honest though that you’d been quite impressed with the display of this dextrous if wholly unnecessary talent. It was after all very fitting for the flamboyant elf. But your adoration must have shown because the vampire was grinning proudly at you as he handed you a glass.

Time to get his ego in check again before it became too massive.

“Where’d you learn that?”, you asked after you had clinked glasses with him. “Rich prick academy?”

Astarion almost snorted into the glass he’d been taking a sip from. He recovered quickly though. “Not my fault they taught you neither that nor manners, you insolent little thing.” He clicked his tongue and took another sip of bubbly.

You waited until he had lifted up the drink filled flute to slap his arm.

His drink sloshed, some spilling onto him.

The look of that combined with too much force you had used to get back at him almost made you lose your balance. You screeched, gripping your glass as if it could stop you from falling.

But thankfully Astarion quickly grabbed your wrist with roguish reflexes, pulling you back and thus prohibiting you from falling off.

Your heart was racing from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The vampire was only laughing as you recovered from your self-inflicted fright. And you hadn’t even drunk a single drop of alcohol yet. So you made to catch up and lifted the crystal to your lips.

“Darling, don’t break your back falling off this rooftop, yes?” Astarion said, choosing this exact moment to break the silence again. “I have way better options to achieve that if you should insist upon it, my heart.”

You choked on the prickling drink and started coughing. Immediately, you were almost ready to push that bastard again, risking falling off once more. Astarion in the meantime smirked smugly at you while drinking his champagne in peace now.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you croaked pathetically after barely being able to talk again. Somehow you seemed to draw the short end of the stick fairly often when it came to trying to out-sass the pale elf. But he had more than 200 years on you with that - give or take. You’d get back at him one of those days.

The bickering went on for some more back and forth until you had each downed your first glass, then a second while you were both laughing profusely and you started to feel the alcohol make your mind a little hazy.

Astarion refilled the glasses once more and you just kept talking - about everything and nothing. It was always so easy to just spend time with each other. It almost felt like you had been together a whole eternity already, in the best way imaginable.

“So, what are you wishing for?”, you asked Astarion emboldened by the alcohol while you were working on emptying your next glass of champagne.

The vampire inclined his head towards you and softly shook his head in disappointment: “Love, have they truly taught you nothing? You’re not supposed to tell or it won’t come true!” He softly clicked his tongue while you stuck out yours towards him. You kept looking at him in anticipation - but he was firm on not losing a word on the matter.

After a while you gave up with a dramatic sigh and gulped down the rest of liquid in your glass. Neither pouting at him, bribing him or even offering another glance of your precariously clothed legs seemed to work.

You though knew exactly what things you’d be wishing for: for him and you to be happy - that was the most important thing, to find a way to allow Astarion to walk in the sun again, a long and happy life for all your friends you hadn’t seen in a while now, to have things stay like this forever or at least to be able to always come back to moments like these.

You really deeply hoped this would stay with you: the unconditional love, the deep trust, the easiness with which the two of you spent your days and nights now with each other.

Some time ago you had feared that once the permanent tension of your adventuring days was over there wouldn’t be much left for you. That Astarion would just realise that you were barely more than a former street kid and thief - and pretty much boring beyond that.

But it hadn’t been like that. Quite the opposite: every day seemed to make the vampire fall harder for you. And you knew that was surely true from your side. It was like every time you looked at him another small piece of your heart was permanently handed to the vampire who you trusted fully to handle it gently. And perhaps the same was true for Astarion’s undead and unbeating heart in his chest.

You kept gazing at him and enjoyed just listening to him talk beside you while you sipped on your drink. The wind was drifting through both your hair, pulling some light strands of your hair with it while it merely tugged softly on the rogue’s curls. His side profile was sharply illuminated by silver moon light, pronouncing his straight nose, sharp cheekbones. And not to forget his ruby red eyes that always caught when you were staring at him and then sparkled in delight.

You could just spend eternity with moments like these.

Astarion was currently telling you about a book of poetry he was reading at the moment, looking up at the moon and the stars with a slight smile on his lips when a murmur started to move through the crowd below you.

Both of your ears perked up a little as the people became louder. And then when someone even screeched and you saw someone pointing up at the night sky as you leaned forward you realised what it must mean: shooting stars.

Your head snapped up and you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, just the disappearing tail of a star racing across the darkness. With a gasp you grabbed Astarion’s shoulder without looking to get his attention. The vampire immediately complained but was silenced when another falling star shot across the sky - this time clearly visible for both of you.

The people below were buzzing in excitement now, loud “oohs” and “aaahs” were heard in the chill winter night as the stars become more and more frequent until bright white curves of sparkles were drawn across the sky every few seconds.

Your eyes widened as you beheld the wondrous event in front of you, completely entranced by what was happening. Truly a magic that was unmatched in beauty, a spell woven over everyone that was lucky enough to catch sight of it even for only a moment.

The vampire observed the falling stars with you for a long while before he slowly turned to you.

Astarion looked at you, still fully smitten by stars falling from the sky, eyes wide and shining, lips parted slightly.. He drank it all in: the wonder in your eyes, your beautiful face, the love. You see the latter reflected on his face when your gaze flicked to the vampire and back up to the sky to not miss a single star.

But Astarion’s gaze kept lingering upon you. Not wanting to ever forget even the most miniscule of details of this moment while sparks of light kept dancing over your face and your ever broadening smile.

He hadn’t lied, calling you his star.

Because his biggest wish, although always unspoken, had already been fulfilled.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna

[bridgertonblue]

I love the fact that before the trailer even dropped I said we were getting a Jane Austen’s Emma inspired season of Bridgerton and they straight up NAME DROPPED EMMA IN EPISODE 1!

I literally SCREAMED when Eloise said that that was what she was reading, and now that I’ve had more time to really think about it it makes her story arc/mannerisms in this season make a ton more sense. She’s always peaking around corners, asking Colin probing questions, and openly engaging in idle gossip about the situation between Penelope and Colin. And yes, the Whistledown of it all, I get that, but when you add in the fact that she’s reading Emma, a story about two life long friends/neighbors who fall in love, it makes her nosiness make ALL THE SENSE.

She NEVER noticed anything between Colin and Penelope before this season, she was always way more occupied in finding Whistledown or talking to Theo about women’s suffrage, etc etc. But she picks up a romance novel, and she almost immediately clocks into what’s going on between Colin and Penelope.

I can understand why she’s enjoyed Emma, especially after what happened between her and Pen because Emma is largely about platonic friendship. Yes, two friends(Knightley and Emma) fall in love at the end, but the majority of the novel is Emma trying to maintain her friendship with Harriet, who she absolutely cherishes. Emma, out of concern/a little selfishness, tries to set up Harriet with a well to do guy who lives in town so she can keep Harriet close to her, societally speaking. It fails miserably and Harriet gets hurt, which destroys Emma. She tries to set her up with Frank Churchill(oddly enough the guy everyone thought she’d end up dating) but Harriet falls for Knightley instead.

Knightley, Emma’s oldest friend/friend of the family(technically brother in law?), someone who she’s known since childhood, her closest neighbor, the guy she see’s nearly everyday, someone she never thought would ever marry because he’s always at her house and never talks or shows interest in any other women(but her which she’s oblivious too). Someone who always finds her and talks to her at every ball and every gathering, someone who’s opinion she values more then everyone else’s. And Harriet, her girl bestie, is in love with him, and oh god, what is this feeling? Why is watching Knightley and Harriet walk around and chat so painful?? Then Emma realizes, “oh shit, I’m in love with my best friend, I’m in love with Knightley”.

And when Knightley finally gets around to telling Emma how he feels, she’s not ecstatic or thrilled or happy, she’s UPSET because it means her bestie, Harriet, is about to be hurt by her actions AGAIN. The man she’s in love with tells her he loves her in a beautiful passionate speech, and all she can think about is “oh god what about Harriet??” Emma apolgizes and tries to fix things and Harriet finds a way to forgive her, and the weight of that forgiveness and having her friend back almost means more to her then getting to be with Knightley.

So, yeah, I can see how Eloise would connect with that novel. I can see how she’d open her eyes and notice the similarities between Knightley/Emma and Colin/Penelope, I can see how she’d enjoy the story of two girl besties fighting and figuring out a way to move forward and be friends again.

Anyway, that’s my rant. If you made it to the bottom of this long ass post then bless you!

[hatsukeii]

i think i’m gonna pick up a 🎸 with a few 🎵 decorations including a ‘rivals to lovers’ guitar pick and a ‘cooking class au’ strap. and lately i’ve heard that osamu is my biggest fan ;)

got it! the band you’ve joined is…

hell’s kitchen / timeskip!osamu miya x reader

genre(s): fluff, slight crack, rivals to possible? lovers, culinary class au! food!

warning(s): nothing!! im worried that osamu might be ooc here or it's not rivalry enough but i hope it works out!>!!>!

wc: ~1.7k

your first gig is at…a culinary class?!

setlist:

🎵girlfriend, hemlocke springs

🎵comedy, gen hoshino

🎵get him back!,olivia rodrigo

How many things can someone possibly put in a rice ball? To slurp, or not to slurp? Better yet, is slapping somebody with a whole head of pickled cabbage a viable course of action?

It's humiliating, almost, paired with Osamu Miya in every culinary class. Not because of his lack of skill- he's good, too good even. But he smacks his tongue audibly against the roof of his mouth every time he digs into your cooking, slurps until showers of broth come spitting from the bowl, wipes his hands on his apron, slathering emulsifications of aioli and hollandaise onto rough canvas fabric, then grabs your waist to walk behind you. Every quirk of his is incomplete without his signature, shit-eating smirk. Every class has you considering swinging whatever tool you have in hand into his face.

Unfortunately, that day is not today. Onigiri only requires hands, and seeing that Osamu has formed six seemingly perfect balls of seaweed wrapped rice, he is clearly much better at using them than you are. Handiwork training is what today's chef called this atrocity. To move beyond being a cook to a chef, you must learn the first tool of cooking- your hands, he said. From the corner of your eye, you catch Osamu's amused glances towards the two funky looking shapes on your plate, and the panicked pulses of your palms against a handful of slippery, seasoned rice. He picks up one of the six onigiri of his own, the rounded tip of the triangle disappearing into his mouth as he chews, agonisingly slowly, smacking his tongue the way he knows you hate. A grumble elicits from your throat, your hands squeezing tighter against the sticky grains in your grasp, only for more chunks to fall apart.

"Let me help."

"No."

"Whatever you say."

He walks over now, biting a second corner off his onigiri as his hips lean against your side of the counter. His lips smack together obnoxiously, teeth squelching and grinding at rice and salmon. You irk your brows when the rice in your grasp seems to stop sticking to each other. It takes one look at your now opaque bowl of water for you to realise that you've washed all the starch off in your attempts to release the grains from your palms. Osamu figured it out when you dipped your hand into the bowl for the seventh time.

"Mix it into the rest of the rice that you have. That helps."

You hate that he's right, because when you do what he's told you to, the rest of the rice comes around the wet grains and sticks to them like they're supposed to. He pops the rest of his onigiri into his mouth, swiping his hands together before rubbing them over the sides of his rice-decorated apron. You try again, scooping up a lukewarm ball of rice. Flattening it against your palm, you search for the bowl of salmon, eyes landing on an empty bowl adorned with sad, pink flakes of salt-grilled fish. Osamu's already sliding the rest of his salmon over the counter.

"Need extra?" His mouth is still stuffed, a single piece of rice sticks to the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks."

You dump a spoonful of salmon into the centre of your rice pattie, before sticking your free hand into the water and folding your palms into each other. The rice sticks to your fingers when you pull away, and you groan, pushing harder. At that, grains begin to crack away from the ball, bits of salmon beginning to stick out from the bottom. Osamu swallows half of the contents in his mouth, his cheek jutting out like a hamster hoarding sunflower seeds. He watches your inexperienced hands, clawing at and tossing the rice to shape it, and he reaches over to rinse his hands over the sink.

"Just let me help you out."

Grains of jasmine rice stick to his wet palms that come around your hands, squeezing and pushing at a ball of rice that falls apart at each movement. The fuzz of his rolled up sweater sleeves rubs against your forearms as his fingers work their way onto yours. Starchy water trickles down the back of your hand when he forces them to loosen around the mess of grilled salmon and rice, and you sigh in defeat, letting him move you as he pleases.

"Look, I'm not sure why you dislike me so much."

"I don't."

He chuckles, pushing your hands into the rice now. You study the pressure he applies to the ball of rice, learn the shape of his fingers around yours, memorise the cup of his palms around the back of your own.

"Yes, you do. You always look at me like-"

You snap your head around to meet his eyes, and he's so close that for the first time, you have to angle your head to look up at him. He's not smirking anymore, moreso observing. You aren't sure what there is to observe on your face, but it's welcome nevertheless.

"Like what?"

He purses his lips, huffing out a dejected sigh.

"Like that."

He lets go of your hands, stepping backwards, and you hold the perfectly moulded onigiri up to eye level. The rice is glossy in a sheen of vinegar and water, yet pertains its fluffiness in the tack of starch against your fingers. The handiwork of a true chef.

"You're so good at this class that I can't even get annoyed at you openly. It's infuriating."

"What did I ever do to you?"

You laugh sarcastically, waving the newly formed onigiri in Osamu’s face, before taking a bite. He laughs, mouth forming a taunting oh when you smack your lips against each other the way that he does, the flakiness of salmon spreading char and salt across your tastebuds. Then, you place the onigiri aside, rubbing your hands up and down your pristine apron, before grabbing his waist to move him to the side so you can walk past, making sure bits of rice and fish stick to his apron. He chuckles, clapping tantalisingly slowly at your imitation of his habits. You give him a fake bow, and he drops his hands to his hips, shrugging.

"That's it?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Petty rivalry and kitchen hygiene."

"Mind you, I am very hygienic. My shop hasn't been shut down for a reason."

You watch Osamu's hands dig into the remaining portion of your rice, his tongue sticking out as he moulds and shapes it into another perfectly rounded triangle. You scoff at his defensiveness, arms crossed in front of you. He wraps a rectangle of seaweed across the centre of the rice ball, and holds it up to your face. It is swiped from his fingers by your own, and you stuff half of it into your mouth, chewing without a sound and swallowing the mouthful.

"You do not have a shop."

"Where'd you think I learned how to do all this?" His hands shoot out to wave at his perfect collection of hand-made onigiri, and you sigh, rolling your head to the side.

"Okay, sure. You have a shop. It's a surprise you can be this annoying and keep it running."

"Loosen up, I just wipe my hands on my apron and eat loud. It's not like I'm spitting in my food. Besides, being that uptight ends up with your onigiri coming out more like...that." His head nods towards the funky ones on your plate, bits of fish sticking from the crevices between individual grains of rice. You shrug in acceptance, taking another bite from his onigiri. Osamu clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist to bring the rice ball to his mouth instead, consuming the final corner of the triangle in its entirety. He swallows it with a hum, his fingers still around your wrist. He's not letting go. Now, you're interested.

"Should I pay you a visit? Need to see for myself that you're running it to safety standards."

"Are you flirting with me? Because you should keep going."

You roll your eyes when you see him wink at you from above your hand, but an toothy grin creeps its way onto your face, and Osamu smiles at his tactics.

"Whatever you say, Miya." His last name finally makes it out of your mouth for the first time since the two of you have been put together for this course, and he drops your wrist.

"You know, I could teach you how to make those onigiris properly if you show up to Onigiri Miya. You'd be almost as good as me by the end of it."

You flick a grain of rice at him, and it sticks to his apron unceremoniously. He's even named the shop after his family name. How cute. Despicable.

"Don't try your luck, chef."

"Chef? High praise."

The supervising chef sounds a bell, harsh waves of high pitched ringing echoing throughout the room. And as Osamu scrubs at bowls and lathers soapy water onto plates, he watches you tap at your phone with clean hands. Your sink is already empty, the two bowls and one plate that you used in total sitting on the drying rack already. Your onigiris sit in a takeout container, lined up neatly in two rows. His own are still on their plate, and he reminds himself to grab a takeout box for himself. You look up to Osamu, and he looks back at his wet hands and soapy dishes.

"Found you online. I'll be checking your place out soon." You remark at him, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a grin.

"You sure you're not there to check me out instead?" You snicker at his blatant flirtations, and pretend that he's completely incorrect.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now, Miya."

You shove your phone back into your pocket, swipe an onigiri off his plate, and wave at him as you turn your back to leave.

Osamu watches your silhouette push open the door as he slots his dishes into the drying rack. He hopes that you'll become his favourite regular at Onigiri Miya.

author's note:

i just KNOW im gonna have so much fun writing for this event ngl i hope i get more so i can see what people come up with but I HOPE U LIKE THIS!!! rivalry is more like friendly banter here and lovers is more like he's into you and you're slowly getting into the grroove of it but hopefully you enjoyed it regardless my bbs<333 i'd frequent onigiri miya ngl i love onigiri sm also hell's kitchen needs to be the name of a band icl

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @wyrcan @4ngelfries @catsoupki @bailey-reeds @fiannee @kuroppiii @akaakeis @hiraethwa @zzwon

interested in joining a band? come on over to the build-a-band 900 !!

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

Oh, Pretty Woman...

Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word count: roughly 5.5K

Y/N Henderson has been away from Hawkins for a while…but she’s come home only to realize her long held feelings for Steve Harrington. So when he invites her over for their usual dinner making hang out, things play out a bit differently than usual. 

Warnings: NSFW (mdni), terms of endearment, fluffy Steve, slight season 3 spoiler (Robin has a partner), one OC (Jude), very fluffy smut, watching of Pretty Woman, not proof read.

Author’s note: Ok this has been a long time coming BUT I wanted to make sure it was everything I wanted it to be before posting! Enjoy some very fluffy Steve smut!  

Y/N had been pacing back and forth all afternoon. She was overthinking this. She was totally overthinking this.

“It’s just movie night and dinner,” she said aloud as she help up her outfit options, “Like you used to do…Stop being so…ugh.” Finally, she realized there was only one thing to fix this. She walked over, picked up her phone, and dialed the number she knew by heart. 

“Hello, this is Jude?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N,” Y/N said as she flopped down onto her bed, knowing they would set her straight if she was spinning out about this and not seeing it for what it was. 

“Holy shit what’s wrong?” They sat on their bed, hearing their friend’s heart beat practically echo through the phone.

“Nothing ... .ok um…” Y/N tried to think of how to start this, “You know Steve and I make dinner together whenever I’m visiting town?” 

“Oh my god,” Jude sat back on their bed. “Yes? Are you seeing him?” Jude’s brows were raised as Robin came in to water the plants in their bedroom. “Seeing Steve I mean.” They whispered to no avail, because Robin heard everything.

“Steve?” She asked. Jude motioned for them to be quiet.

“Oh god is Robin there?” Y/N asked as she could hear another voice, wanting to crawl up in a hole because if Robin knew she was overreacting she was totally gonna tell Steve.

“Hang on,” They tried to comfort Y/N. “Robin, honey, I need a moment.”

“No, no it’s fine as long as she swears not to mention this to Steve, ever,” Y/N said, emphasis on the ever. 

“No,” Jude said. “Robin, you know I love you. But I need a moment with my sister.” Robin nodded, ruffling Jude’s hair as she walked out of their tiny bedroom, closing the door. “Tell me.”

“Ok so Steve invited me over to do like dinner and stuff which we do a lot when I’m home since he can’t cook, well he couldn’t cook when we started,” Y/N rambled, “He’s actually really good now when he tries-”

“Okay Y/N, sweetie, get to the meat.” Jude was waiting with baited breath to hear what she said.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N finally admitted, “To go over. I’m nervous.” 

“And….is this… a new thing? You said you’ve been going over for a while now.”

“Yeah the nerves are new,” Y/N said with a sigh as she moved to look at the outfits she had been deciding between, “I mean it’s the first time we’ve hung out in a while and…I wasn’t nervous then but I am now. I mean, Jude, I’ve been through every outfit in my closet, I’ve showered and like an everything shower, and….ugh!” 

“Oh god, an everything shower?” Their tone, usually mocking, was warm. “Well…are you planning…well let me rephrase. Do you want something to happen tonight?”

“What?” Y/N asked, the thought suddenly coming to her mind, “I…oh my god…I….” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said honestly, “I…I really hadn’t thought about it because I was so busy with stuff,” a lie, Y/N had thought about Steve every day, “but…it would explain a lot of things.” 

“THINGS??” Jude sat up. “HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?? THINGS??”

“I mean,” she thought for a second before going, “I don’t know! I mean I’ve always thought Steve was handsome, he’s a good looking dude, everyone thinks Steve is handsome. And like sure there have been little moments where I wondered, what if, but I…I never really thought about liking him in that way but…then we were making dinner for the first time and he got that little smile and…and I fell for him. Deep and hard and- well not like that! But I just…I’m smitten Jude!” 

“I mean he has been a rock for you after everything,” Jude nodded totally following, “And he’s a good guy. He’s funny and awkward and charming and he…definitely cares for you. You two danced and-”

“But what if he’s changed his mind?” Y/N asked as she flopped down on the bed, “What if I go over there and he’s totally moved on and doesn’t feel the same way and now it’s like starting over from scratch or worse, what if he just wants to be friends and I have to bury it all down again?! Maybe he doesn’t feel that way and maybe he…I mean…I like him so much and I have since…jesus the seventh grade? On and off and…Jude what do I do?” 

“Oh Y/N,” Their voice consoling, for once no mockery. “You gotta go for it. You gotta. You have something special with him whether it’s romantic or not. And look at Robin and his friendship. They are still super close even after he confessed his feelings. He’ll always be there for you.” Relief did wash through Y/N in this moment only to be replaced by a new kind of trepidation. 

“Then what do I wear?” Jude cackled at their friend’s nervousness, finally indulging. 

“What are your options?” Jude said through laughter. 

The drive there was also easy with the radio on blast. Even the way up to Steve’s apartment was easy…it was knocking on the door that was hard. But she did it. And then she waited. 

Steve jumped and blew out the candle he lit. It’s not like that. Well maybe it’s like that. But remember what you’ve practiced. Follow her lead. See where she's at and make sure she feels the same still. He jumped to get the door, swinging the towel over his shoulder before opening the door. 

“Hey,” His jaw hung open slightly, seeing Y/N. Why the fuck did I blow out that candle? “You look beautiful.” Fuck that was way too forward. Can’t take it back now. He scratched the back of his head before backing up and letting her in. 

“Thank you,” She said, her voice so much shakier than she wanted it to be as she struggled to meet his gaze. She came in and kicked her shoes off as she always did out of respect. The lights had been dimmed significantly and there was already something cooking, as the room smelled of rich vivacious flavor. 

“Steve that smells incredible!” Y/N said as Steve shut the door, “What are you making?” 

“ I just made Penne Rosa,” He shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing in the world. Y/N just turned and looked at him, narrowing her eyes. 

“I leave for what…three months and suddenly you’ve gone world class chef on me?” She teased with a smirk, “Steve, there will be no point to me coming over if you can suddenly cook better than I can! Jeez.” 

“Hey now Y/N, just accept that I am officially allowed to be better than you at something,” He grabbed the spoon and offered her a taste. Y/N was far too excited for a taste as she followed him into the kitchen. Steve dipped the spoon into the sauce, got a bit, and without thinking much about it blew on the spoon to make sure it wouldn’t be too hot before passing it over to her. Y/N beamed as she took the spoon and popped it into her mouth letting out a hum in reply. 

“Oh my god that’s so good,” she praised. 

“You like it?” He beamed. “ I can relax now.”

“Like it? Steve that is the best sauce I have had maybe ever,” she said with a little sigh, “Oh that’s so good, wow.” He watched her enjoy it, before having to distract himself with his sauce. 

“The bread I got from a bakery because I didn’t have time to bake any. If you could cut some into slices that would be wonderful.”

“Of course,” she beamed, happy for a task to do as she pulled the bread knife from his drawer where she knew it would be, “So…have you been seeing anyone?” Steve dropped his spoon, splattering sauce on the ground.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” He exclaimed, immediately getting down to wipe his mess. “Uh, no. No I haven’t been. You?”

“No,” Y/N said as she passed him a paper towel, “I um…I haven’t been either.” 

“Oh,” Steve stood up and slung his towel over his shoulder, watching her back as she intently cut the bread. “Huh.” He went back to his sauce, stirring for a minute before finally giving in. 

“So,” Y/N turned to look at him again, facing him fully this time, trying to break the tension she had somewhat created though she was thankful for the relief that he was still single, “What else is new?” 

“Same old, same old”. He turned off the burden, allowing the sauce to still cook without the fire. “Nothing much to do other than work. Things just aren’t the same without you here.” Y/N’s cheeks went red and Steve smiled, confidence surging through him that spark was still there. 

“How’s my brother been?” Y/N asked as she watched him work for a moment, noting how at peace she felt here, with him.

“He’s the same as usual too,” Steve scoffed, “Cocky.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N teased, “You gave him your hair products and since then-”

“Woah, woah, don’t blame the hair,” Steve said as he pointed to his favorite feature, “The hair is not the problem!”

“I’m just saying,” Y/N chuckled, “The hair and you being around boosted his ego…but it’s nice. Except the cat thing when he’s flirting.” Steve cringed at the memory of Dustin doing the “rrrrr” sound he so often did.

“Yeah I was kinda waiting for him to grow out of that.” The pair both fell into laughter at the thought of Dustin - someone they both held dear - only being brought back by Y/N asking,  “Can I do anything else for you?” 

“Just enjoy yourself,” He smiled at her. “Actually, if you could get the wine out of the fridge…..I might have splurged because you’re back.”

“Steve,” Y/N said as she cooed his name on her way to the fridge, “Don’t splurge on my account! I’m just happy to get to spend time with you.” 

“Welp, I should have kept the receipt then.” He plated the pasta. “ Oh, speaking of splurging...you’re gonna hate this,” He smirked. 

“Steve Harrington,” Y/N put the hand not holding the bottle of wine on her hip as she looked at him with mock scolding, “What did you do?” 

“I got Pretty Woman, definitely not because it’s your favorite movie. I just happened to be available at Family Video and I had Keith hold it all day for me.” Y/N literally melted on the spot. She just looked at this man and she knew she was down bad. She had no words and could only smile at him, like he had hung the moon. “Y/N? Hello Y/N?”

“Well I mean,” She started, coming back to earth with a blush on her cheeks, “If you went through all that effort, I suppose we just have to watch it, now don’t we?” 

“I guess so,” He handed her a plate. “Listen it’s a special occasion so if you don’t like the pasta we can order take out. I will not judge or be offended.”

“Steve, I will love anything you make because you made it,” shit, she thought, that was a lot…but I can’t unsay it. So she just walked over and set the bottle of wine down on the table and got two glasses - the only two he had - out of the cabinet. He brought both plates out to his tiny dining room table, practically only enough for two. But she was the only other person other than Robin who ate here, so it didn’t really matter. As they sat to eat, he couldn’t help but feel at peace. He couldn’t help but feel like spending the rest of his life in Hawkins wouldn't be so bad. Maybe getting out every now and then with her wouldn't be that bad. As long as they had a van to drive around in. 

The pair finished dinner and Y/N was up, taking Steve’s plate to wash it before he could get a word of protest in. 

“You cooked, I’ll clean,” she had said before he could speak, “That’s how this works.” He smiled, sort of relieved that he could rest for a moment. He chose to watch her do the dishes, not in a creepy way. You’re being creepy. He looked away, going to set up the movie. 

“Is it okay if I start it? You might just miss the opening.”

“I am so sure I have this movie memorized by now so feel free,” Y/N called from the kitchen as she continued to clean, making sure everything was dried and put away before joining Steve on the couch. 

Soon enough the two were invested in the action, Julia Roberts walking down the street to Pretty Woman, one of Steve’s all time favorite songs. He felt the couch shift ever so slightly as Y/N pulled her feet up, getting even cozier on the couch and moving closer to him as a result. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Should I put an arm around her? 

“I love this song,” He said. Smooth.

“Me too,” she said with a nod. The next pan had the pair watching as Julia Roberts caught sight of the store she had been turned away from earlier in the film…the same attendant on shift.

“This is my favorite part,” Steve whispered. 

“You have a favorite part?” Y/N whispered back. 

“Of course I have a favorite part. This movie is iconic. How uncultured do you think I am?” He nudged.

“Well between dinner and your choice in film clearly I have given you less credit than you deserve,” she shot back with a smile. He turned to her, not expecting such a  genuine statement, and watched the warm glow of the TV flicker against her face. It was soothing in a way. He felt a warm rise up into his face and quickly turned away. Get a grip Steve. 

“Hi. Do you remember me?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“I was in here yesterday, you wouldn’t wait on me.”

Steve sat up straighter, hitting her thigh with excitement. 

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement.

“Oh.”

“You work on commission right?”

“Ah yes.” 

“Big mistake. Big,” The pair said at the exact same time. “Huge.” They looked at each other, their smiles faded and replaced with something else. Something deeper. 

And with that, Steve shifted his position on the couch, grabbed Y/N’s face, and pressed a long awaited kiss on her lips, finally. He had been thinking about kissing her from the day she kissed him when they were in the seventh grade. A quick peck, a bet, not a real kiss. It wasn’t fair she had kissed him first and that it was so short, not even enough time to blink. He knew that someday when he got to kiss her again, he’d cherish every moment of it. 

Y/N’s eyes went wide for a second, in shock that this was occurring before leaning in, totally reciprocating. She couldn’t help herself, deepening the kiss to prove it was real by placing a hand ever so slightly in Steve’s hair, her fingers running to his roots. Holy shit. 

They moved closer and closer together, continuing to kiss, neither pulling away for air for fear that if they stopped for even a second the other would disappear back into real life once more. Y/N’s heart was beating out of her chest as both their hands wandered, trying to touch everything all at once but also so unsure on where to put their hands. At this point she was basically sitting just to the side of Steve’s lap but he wanted her, needed her closer. In one solid motion, he pulled her into his lap, his hands roaming her body. There was urgency to both of their movements, both allowing soft moans to fall at how nicely they fit together. As much as Steve wanted to treasure each and every second, kissing her like she was his life support, he couldn’t help his hands from coming to rest on her ass. He used the next leverage to pull them even closer into each other which drew a gasp from Y/N - finally making him pull away. 

“You alright?” He asked breathlessly. 

“God, yes,” Y/N moaned as she kissed him again, keeping her hands in his hair, “Fuck Steve, please don’t stop.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore as her begging without him even having to ask, instinctively grinding his hips against her. The whimper she let out had him on the verge and they were both still fully clothed. Her legs coming to wrap around his waist so that she could feel even closer to him was the nail in the coffin. He needed her. Now. 

Steve broke away from the kiss only for a moment but Y/N didn’t cease, beginning to kiss up and down his neck until she found a spot that made him groan. She focused on it with a fervor as Steve brought his hands up to the top button of her dress since the whole thing was a button down. He kept his hands there as a “May I?” and when Y/N pulled back to nod at him, he didn’t hesitate. Steve went back to kissing her as he slowly unbuttoned her dress, bit by bit, wanting to not look until he was fully done. This proved to be a difficult task too but luckily Y/N helped him out, starting at the bottom as he made his way down. The second their hands met and the last button was undone, Steve couldn’t help but to break their kiss to look at her. His hands came to rest on her hips as he pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath. Steve had never been one to believe in God but to see the woman he had been chasing after for years undressed in his lap wearing lingerie- and Jesus Christ not just any lingerie. His favorite kind. 

It was a light blue and mesh material, almost completely see through other than being covered in beautifully detailed lace flowers. Again, Steve Harrington was pretty sure he didn’t believe in God but seeing Y/N looking better than any porno he had ever even dreamed up - he was ready to start praying. 

“Is…is it ok?” Y/N asked quietly as she looked at Steve, her hands moving to her lap as she fidgeted with them, unsure of what to do. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it and I know I um…I don’t look like a lot of the girls you’ve been with but-” Steve kissed her so hard and fast, one of his hands moving from her hips to tangle in her hair in an effort to keep her from falling off his lap with the force he kissed her with. He needed her to know, to feel how much he wanted her. How much it had always been her. 

“You, Y/N Henderson,” he whispered after pulling away, “Are the most stunning person I have ever seen in my life.” Y/N’s eyes went wide as she took in his compliment. How was this the same Steve she had known all her life? The Steve who didn’t know how to give genuine compliments so didn’t? The Steve who Robin constantly complained acted like a twelve year old boy and couldn’t say anything other than boobies? 

“And holy fuck,” Steve swore as he brought his hands up to her waist, just underneath her breast as he ran his thumb ever so gently over the lace. 

“You can touch me, Steve,” Y/N said gently as she brought her hand up to rest over top of his, “Please…please touch me.” 

“Fuck,” Steve swore under his breath as he didn’t think twice moving his hand up to cup her breast in his hand, marveling at how she felt under his touch. Y/N ground her hips against his with a little whimper and he fucking lost it. He pushed the dress off her shoulders so she was truly in nothing but her underwear before pulling off his shirt, not wanting her to feel like she was the only one undressed. Y/N admired him as he did and felt her heart skip a beat. Steve had filled out. He had always been a decently broad guy but the second he had allowed himself to breathe and live his life instead of merely trying to survive from disaster to disaster he had grown softer instead of being lean muscle. The muscle was underneath but he had become a bit self conscious about the additional mass.

“Is that why girls don’t like me?” He had asked Robin as they passed a joint between them, “Because I’ve…”

“Nah,” Robin had replied with a shrug, “If anything that would help your case. Like the chest hair. Girls like you just fine, you just don’t like them.”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is,” Robin had cut him off, “Because none of them are Y/N Henderson.” 

He had laughed then but as he had her on his lap, looking at him like he had brought the sunlight back to her dark world, he knew Robin was right. No one had ever compared to her, no one ever could. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” the words flew from Steve’s mouth before he knew what he was saying, “You don’t even know.” He wanted to take the confession back, afraid she'd vanish despite the grip he had on her hips but she didn’t. Instead she turned her gaze back to his face and leaned in, going to press a kiss to his lips but she stopped just short.

“I know because I’ve wanted you just as much.” With that her lips connected with his again and it felt like the sky burst open. He pulled her closer than he thought possible, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as they kissed, rough and messy, teeth clashing as they both took what they had so desperately wanted. While Y/N was content with her hands tangled in Steve’s soft hair, Steve’s hands explored every inch of her exposed skin, one arm wrapping around her low back to keep the two of them rocking against each other with abandon. Y/N’s soft moans and the feel of her lips against his had Steve barreling towards the edge with shocking speed but he knew he didn’t want to finish still dressed on the couch. No, he wanted to be in her. 

“Y/N,” He pulled away, the pair both breathing heavily, “I want to-”

“Me too,” Y/N breathed heavily as she looked at him, hands moving to caress his face and press kisses to his neck, “Your room?” She didn’t have to ask him twice, Steve’s hands coming to hold her ass as he picked her up. Y/N swore Steve took only three strides before she found herself pressed underneath him in his bed, his lips already back on hers. Her nails raked up and down his back gently and Steve wasn’t content with that. No, he wanted to be able to feel her, see evidence of this tomorrow, otherwise he wouldn’t believe it was true. His one hand came back to grasp at her one breast, tweaking her nipple roughly making her cry out in pleasure while his other hand trailed down to her underwear. The sheer material allowed him to feel just how wet she was as he trailed a finger up and down her slit, a gasp leaving her as her eyes flashed open. 

“Shit,” He swore as he felt her, “So fucking wet. For me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said through gasps as she grasped him tightly, “For you Steve, all for you.” Steve would have smirked under normal circumstances but he felt so out of control all he could do was groan at her words and continue to feel her, rocking his hips against anything he could to try and relieve some tension from his body.

“Please don’t tease,” she begged him without the man even having to ask, “Please Steve, I just…want you now.”

“My fingers?” He asked between kisses and hickeys he pressed to her neck, taking the time to claim her as his. 

“No, I want-”

“The answers are my finger or my mouth, baby,” Steve said as he pulled back, continuing to stroke his fingers along her slit, daring to dip just the tip of one in over her underwear but denying her more until she asked for it. “Can’t have anything else until you’re warmed up-”

“I am, I am, please Steve,” She begged, seeming to be on the verge of tears from how badly she needed him, “Can I…no more pants Steve. Wanna see you, all of you.” Steve wasn’t going to deny her a thing as badly as he wanted to finger her until she came around him, he would do whatever she asked. He climbed off of her and rose, bringing his hand to his jeans but Y/N moved and put her hand over his. 

“Can I do it?” Steve’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly but he nodded as he closed it, moving his hands to her hips to give her full reign. She took his moment of submission to undo the button on his jeans, and then the zipper, before putting her hands through the loops and pulling them down. They fell to his ankles and he took a moment to step out of them, his hands on her hips pulling her into him as all that remained between the two was their underwear, allowing Y/N to feel Steve so much more than she had been able to before. 

“Fuck Steve,” She swore as she brought her hand down to stroke him through his underwear causing the man to groan, “You’re so…wow…” Steve didn’t waste a second, kicking her legs apart a bit with his feet so he could bring his hand down to cup her sex once more, pushing her underwear to the side as he pressed a finger into her. 

“Shit,” Y/N’s knees buckled a little bit at the intrusion and her grip on him stuttered. 

“Lay down for me,” he commanded as he withdrew his fingers only for a moment, bring it to his mouth with a groan as she compiled, “Fuck you taste good.”

“Can I taste you?” Y/N asked as she laid in bed, his bed, and looked up at him with an angelic gaze. 

“Not today, baby,” he cooed as he climbed on top of her, his fingers pushing her underwear aside again with ease as he slipped two fingers into her making her moan, “I’m already close and if you blew me, I wouldn’t be able to do what I really want.” 

“And you want…?” Y/N asked between little gasps as he found that spot inside her that had her nails scratching into his back. 

“Fuck,” Steve swore again as he burried his face into her neck as her hand moved inside his boxers, stroking him in earnest. “To be inside of you. Please.” Y/N moved her hand and brought both of her hands down to her underwear, pushing them off and kicking them to the ground as Steve stripped off his own. She couldn’t help but look at him, fully naked on top of her and looking like a Greek god. 

“You’re so handsome Steve Harrington.” The honesty of her compliment had Steve melting as he reached into his bedside table and grabbed a condom out of the unopened box. Y/N took it from his hands and ripped it open with ease, slipping it onto him as he kissed up and down her neck.

“And you’re so beautiful Y/N Henderson.” Y/N smiled and allowed her one hand to come back to his hair, that combined with the way he stroked himself made him groan. He lined himself up with her entrance and ran his tip over her folds for a moment before remembering her beg not to tease - not that he could even if he wanted to. He was so desperate he knew the second she gave him the ok he would slip into her without a second thought. 

“Can I-”

“Please.” Without another word, Steve began to press into her as gently as he could manage. The room turned into a mix of moans and swears as Steve fell to his elbows, bringing them impossibly close as Y/N’s nails dug into his back as she buried her face into his chest. The first few inches already had her so tight around him as he paused to revel in the feeling. Steve gently tangled his fingers into her hair to move her head from his chest, wanting to see her. Y/N must have caught on as she allowed her head to fall back on the pillow looking up at him in awe. 

“You okay?” Steve asked as the hand that was in her hair moved to cup her cheek. 

“Feels so good,” Y/N breathed out as she looked at him, her eyes watery from the feeling as she allowed her one hand to fall from Steve back and down onto the bed. “S’big.” Steve would have normally chuckled and made some comment about his ego being inflated too much but he couldn’t focus on anything except the way she felt around him and that he was less than halfway in. 

“Doing such a good job,” He praised, trying to keep his voice even as he brushed some of the curls that had fallen around her face away so he could fully see her. “Too much?” She shook her head adamantly which made Steve smile. Seeing Y/N Henderson, one of the most composed and well spoken people he knew, reduced to nonverbal because of him was becoming his new kryptonite. He used his hand not bracing himself above her to hoist her leg over his hip, bringing them closer even still. He then took a moment to lace his hand with hers as he pressed her hand into the bed. Y/N was so distracted by this she didn’t even notice Steve pulling out almost all the way before fully pushing in. A soft moan slipped from Y/N’s lips as her eyes squeezed closed but that didn’t work for Steve. She was holding back. He knew it. And he didn’t want her to. 

“Y/N, honey,” he spoke between kisses to her neck and lips and pretty much anywhere else he could reach, “Wanna hear you. Maybe some noise for me, hm?” 

“But,” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her lust blown eyes blinking gently, “It’s embarrassing-”

“It’s beautiful,” he praised as he gently rolled his hips into her, getting her used to the movement and feeling, “Everything about you is.” Y/N melted and as she felt his tip prod that spongy spot deep inside of her she let out a real moan, her inhibitions slipping away with the pleasure. 

“That’s it,” Steve cooed, “That’s it-oh fuck-” Steve swore as began to rock into her at a harder faster pace as he felt her clench around him. “So damn tight, fuck Y/N.”

“Steve please,” she whimpered as she pulled him closer. 

“Yeah? That feel good?” He said, increasing his pace and making sure to press as deep into her as he could with each thrust. Y/N felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling like she could feel him all the way in her stomach. Steve clocked his too, their hands no longer laced together as Y/N had decided she needed one to scratch his back up and another tangled in his hair, so he was able to trail one of his hands down to where he knew he was in her. He pressed down and watched as Y/N’s mouth formed a little o, her eyes rolling back as he felt her cunt start to flutter around him. 

“All the way in there, honey,” he cooed, through gritted teeth as he tried to hold off his own end until she had found hers. Keeping his hand there, he used his thumb to draw soft slow circles on her clit. That contrasted with the way he was fucking her so rough but with so much passion and praise had her teetering on the edge. 

“Steve-Steve I’m gonna-”

“Let it go honey,” he whispered before pressing a firm kiss to her lips. “Cum for me.” And she did, hard. Her cunt clenched impossibly tight around him, her eyes squeezing closed and mouth forming an o in a silent scream as her release coated his lower abdomen. 

“Holy shit-oh fuck,” Steve swore as he fell to his other elbow, not able to do anything more than let his release follow hers. He came with a high strangled groan - a sound Y/N was sure had come straight from the heavens had it not been so damn sinful. He slowed the pace of his thrusts as he rode out his orgasm but didn’t pull out as he all but collapsed on top of her before he realized oh shit I’m crushing her. He went to move but Y/N’s hands held his head to her chest. 

“Stay,” her plea was a strangled whisper as she tried to catch her breath. And he did, knowing he’d never question her and her wishes, never for a second. He laid on top of her, their breathing syncing as he could feel himself soften, still inside her. He felt his eyes begin to droop and knew he couldn’t go to sleep no matter how comfy he was. Not until he had checked on her. 

“Y/N?” He asked softly as he pushed up on his elbows to look at her. Her eyes fluttered open as they had been previously closed as she just took it all in while playing with his hair. 

“Mhm?” She smiled at him, glowing with sweat and adoration. All words left him as he rolled onto his side, still inside of her and moved her to face him. He just wanted to hold her, that was all he wanted. So he did. Steve wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in so her face was nestled into his neck as he just took in the weight of her in his arms, memorizing every detail of this moment. He knew then that while this was the first night she’d rest in his arms, it wouldn’t be the last. This, Y/N was his forever. 

Yay! I do love Steve very much and while I mainly have written for Eddie in the past, this idea kept coming back to me! Hope you all enjoyed and requests are open!

[sourpatch-sims]

I think I’m done with this community. Some of you are racist and anti-Black as fuck. Some of you use the Black LIs EVERY season to get to who you want. Why? The LIs share the same dialogue 90% of the time. The Black men all look different from each other, have different personalities. So, why? People even claimed Jin and Jack were much too sweet to hurt, but Oakley somehow wasn’t. Funnily enough he was the only OG who didn’t have a fit when mc doesn’t pick him. The same people then used Shawn. Wtf?!? And now y’all are doing it to Henri. Why?

Rhetorical question because I already know the answer.

I’ve even seen people say Fusebox should’ve used one of the white guys for Stefan. Seriously? We finally have a main route featuring a Black man and you want to swap him out for a white man? That’s your suggestion? Not editing him, changing him up a bit but swapping him out for a white character.

And then y’all have the audacity to reblog call out posts or posts talking shit about Reddit. Lmao. YOU ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM.

And I’m so irritated which is why my post isn’t eloquent and may be all over the place. I’m just disappointed, yet another community. I’m done.

Do better!

[livwritesstuff]

‘tis my birthday today (it’s gotta be one of the worst birthdays to have, we don’t need to talk about it) anyways that’s where this is coming from

(also i’m not trying to imply that jan 1 is eddie’s bday. i wouldn’t wish that on anybody. besides, he is def a weirdo february aquarius)

The second half of the calendar year is nothing short of pandemonium for Eddie and Steve and their three daughters.

Moe’s birthday in late July kicks it off, almost immediately followed by Steve’s birthday in early August, then Hazel’s in September. Robbie’s birthday comes mere days after Halloween, and from there they dive headfirst into the bedlam of the holiday season.

Much to Eddie's relief, they all made it to yet another New Year's Day, and while the girls are definitely feeling the end-of-winter-break blues, Eddie welcomes the reprieve in festivities, brief as it may be.

His own birthday is up next – though not for another month.

He’s really not a birthday kind of guy. Never had been.

He loves making birthdays exciting for Steve and their daughters (they have a whole slew of traditions and everything – there’s names spelled out in pancakes involved; it's a very big deal), but his own…not so much.

It managed to fly under the radar for the past few years, but since this year is the big Five-Oh, he knows Steve won’t let him get away with that again.

Eddie has a complicated relationship with his birthday. When he was younger and the weight of Birthday Importance was at its peak, he never really celebrated the way other kids got to, and now, as an adult, he doesn’t know how to feel the things you’re supposed to feel about your birthday. 

Steve does a good job, despite Eddie’s weirdness. 

His favorite, Eddie thinks, was the year Moe was born, when Steve had managed to catch him off guard by renting a tiny cottage up in Maine for a few days.

“Moe or no Moe,” Steve had asked, “I’ve got Rob and Nance on standby.”

(They’d taken Moe. She saw snow for the first time. It was amazing, and people who don't want to involve their kids in stuff are a bunch of fucking weirdos).

Steve gives him a letter every year – handwritten on notebook paper and folded into whatever cheesy card he picks out.

Eddie keeps most of the letters in a fireproof lockbox along with all their passports and social security cards and birth certificates (look – Eddie doesn’t fuck around with priceless shit), but he keeps the most recent one – the one Steve gave him for his forty-ninth birthday nearly a year ago – in the top drawer of his bedside table.

He has it pretty much memorized at this point.

It says:

Ed! (with an exclamation point and everything – god, does Eddie love him)

49.

Holy shit we’re getting old.

Writing this is making me think about all the ones from the beginning, when I’d write about our future together even though we didn’t have a damn clue what we were working towards for a while.

I think we’re in it, man. Crazy, right?

(The ink color suddenly switches from blue to purple)

Sorry for the color change. Hazy decided she needed a blue pen immediately. Hope your vision hasn’t gone totally to shit and you can still read the purple.

Anyways, since I have you hostage reading this, I’m gonna take the opportunity to discuss you, because you don’t let me in real life most of the time.

You are gorgeous. Best looking face I’ve ever seen. I wonder how much time I’ve lost off my day just staring at you (actually, not a loss. I take that back)

You suck at puzzles – I know that sounds bad, but it’s great for me. I need that to rub off on Moe because she’s getting pretty good and that’s gonna be a problem for me.

You make me laugh so fucking hard every day. I’m praying the girls get your sense of “elevated” humor or whatever you like to call it

You’re so fucking smart, Eddie. I count myself lucky for it endlessly

You are completely 100% you all the time. I’m still working on that I think but I’m getting there because of you. I’m glad all that shit we went through didn’t take that away from you.

the BEST dad. Can’t believe I didn’t say that sooner. Not to brag but our kids are turning out pretty awesome (can’t go around saying that too much though it’ll go right to their heads and then any power we have left goes out the window)

You’re probably the best person I’ve ever known. Don’t think I’ll be forgetting what a catch you are any time soon, because I won't.

Thank you for loving me even all these years later. My life is better every day that I’m with you.

We’ll keep things quiet this year. Don’t get used to it though. Next year’s gonna be a rager.

Love you always!

- Steve :) ♡ ☆

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)

Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Uh oh...

_________

Two Weeks Later

Reader POV

“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”

“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you. 

“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”

“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.

“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”

“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.

“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”

“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”

“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”

“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”

“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”

“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”

“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding. 

“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”

“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.” 

“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. 

“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.

You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”

“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”

“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”

“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”

“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside. 

“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”

“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”

You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.

“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.

“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.

“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?

He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.

“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.

“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”

“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.

“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”

“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”

Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you. 

“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”

“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”

“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.

Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up. 

Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.

“Is that-”

“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.

“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”

“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”

“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”

You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.

“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”

You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.

“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”

Dean POV

I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together. 

Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.

“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”

“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”

“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”

“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”

“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided. 

“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”

“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.

“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.

“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”

“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”

“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”

“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”

“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”

“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”

“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.

Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-

“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”

“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked. 

A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home. 

“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.

“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.

For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.

“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N. 

“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.

“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach. 

“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.

“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”

Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”

“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”

“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”

She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.

“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”

“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers. 

“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”

“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning. 

“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”

“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”

“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”

“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.

“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”

“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”

“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all. 

“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.

“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”

“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”

I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.

“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe. 

“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”

Reader POV

There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.

“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers. 

“No thank you,” you said without looking.

“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”

You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.

You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”

“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”

“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.

“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”

“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”

“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.

Time to act your fucking ass off. 

You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.

But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too. 

It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.

“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”

“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up. 

“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”

“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.

“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.

As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.

So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday. 

Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.

Dean POV

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”

“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”

“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”

“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!” 

Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house. 

Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.

If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.

“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”

“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps if you two could-”

“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”

“Man whore!” she shouted.

“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”

“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”

“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.

Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.

YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC. 

“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.

Sebastian Monroe.

“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”

She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.

“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up. 

“Y/N what are-”

“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”

It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred. 

Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.

“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.

He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”

He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.

“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”

He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath. 

“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”

Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.

“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”

________

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[wardenparker]

Mitch Keller + "Dance with me", pls? Love the TF boys in other things 2!!!

Mitch Keller. 1,665 words. "Dance with me." Co-written with @absurdthirst

Light undertones of dom!Mitch. Boss/employee dynamic. Mutual pining. The love is requited, they're just idiots. Garrett Hedlund as Mitch Keller is desperately underrated and I can't wait for season 2 of Tulsa King.

The bar is like a whole different place after closing. Every single night, without fail, the place goes from noisy and energetic to just being the two of you. Loud and buzzing becomes quiet and comfortable as soon as you cross the threshold after closing time. Two in the morning would be a lonely time for most people. Maybe it ought to be. Maybe it even is for Mitch Keller. You can’t be sure. But for you, two in the morning is the time you like most. When you get to be alone with the man you’ve been in love with for years.

Despite wiping down the bar top countless times during the night, there’s still a sticky film to be cleaned. Spilled liquor and beer from varying degrees of coordinated hands. Mitch knows you are watching him as the old jukebox plays and he wonders what you are thinking.

You really have to stop staring at your boss. Shit’s gonna get your fired for harassment one of these days. The music clicks over, jolting you out of your head and reminding you to clean. The floor isn’t going to sweep itself and it doesn’t matter how good Mitch’s ass look in those jeans. You’ll think about it later like you always do. But not here. Not now.

Despite the patrons paying for the songs that come over the old stereo. Mitch has a key that lets the two of you listen for free. Programming at least an hour’s worth of songs while you decompress and clean up. It had been a good night, but there’s this electric tension in the air.

Sometimes you share a single drink while you clean. Sometimes you chat about the day or about Mitch’s dad, who is the kindest landlord in the world and the reason you have this job. Sometimes you joke or bitch or play around. Tonight it seems like wanting him has you in a strangle-hold, though, so when Patsy Cline comes on the jukebox, you almost groan for the irony.

“You doing alright over there?” Mitch asks, tossing the rag into a bin and propping his hands on his trim hips.

“What?” You were staring again. Into space this time, but staring nonetheless. “Uh—yeah. Fine. Totally fine,” you lie, shaking your head and shoulders and starting to sweep again. Daydreaming — middle of the night dreaming? — about your boss needs to wait until you get home.

He chuckles and shakes his head, amazed that you don’t just give in and tell him already. The hooded glances and yearning looks only go so far and if he were a betting man – which he is – he would say you were daydreaming again. “Let’s get finished early.” He tells you. “Got something I want to do.”

“Oh—oh sure.” Something to do in the wee hours of the morning? You try not to wonder if that ex-girlfriend of his has come crawling back again, knowing that it isn’t any of your business and you have no right to be jealous even if she is. Instead you pick up the pace with an unnerved and slightly anxious energy, determined not to think about it.

Mitch caps off the beer taps and groans. “I’ve got to restock the coolers.” He tells you. “You okay to mop?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” After years in this job you could probably close the whole bar down with your eyes closed, and you nod rather than look him in the eyes, afraid to give yourself away. “If you need to go, I can finish up alone.”

“No, I’m just going to be in the back for a few minutes.” He clarifies and tosses you a grin. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. You know that.”

“I’ll be right here when you’re done.” Without him standing there distracting you, you’ll probably work three times faster, but it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault you’re a grown woman with a completely impossible crush — it’s more than that but you can’t deal with that right now — on a man who’s so far out of your league that it’s remarkable he even remembers your name.

Mitch disappears into the back, not quite telling the truth about why he had to go back there, but he needs to bide his time. To get you finished up before he came back out.

It doesn't take you long to actually get things sorted out up front. When you had thought that you could clean this place with your eyes closed, you meant it. The jukebox turns to more upbeat songs and you work through it, reminding yourself to just get the hell through the night so you can go home and get him out of your head for a few hours. At least until you have to be back here tomorrow night. Just breathe, and sing along with Leann Rimes on the jukebox to keep yourself amused. That's what you'll do.

In the back, Mitch has basically made himself a little apartment. He doesn't need much and the bar is literally his baby, so he cleans up quickly, wanting to freshen up. When he comes back out, you have just put everything away and are obviously waiting on him to return. The song fades out and slower one starts to pour out of the speakers. "You're done." He hums quietly.

"I've had practice." It's the closest you can get to teasing him tonight, with your head swimming and your palms a little sweaty. You're not your normally boisterous self.

"You do a good job." He praises, walking closer to you and when he's right in front of you, he stops. "So I was wondering if you would do something for me." He ventures softly.

"Of course." No hesitation, no consideration. You would do anything for him.

Smiling, he holds out his hand. “Dance with me.” He orders softly, stepping closer for you to accept his offer.

“I—what?” Somehow your hand has gone up on its own, hovering over his before you even manage to process what he’s asked.

“Dance with me.” He repeats, an amused twinkle in his eyes and a curve of his lips making him appear boyish.

It’s like your brain short circuits even while your body obeys, hand settling lightly in his and feet stepping forward while your mind works in overdrive to understand. You can’t stop yourself from blurting out “Why?” despite the moment being your literal dream come true.

“Because you never ask.” He reasons easily. “And how can I kiss you without a dance first?”

Thankfully the noise that strangles in your throat is more of a squeak than a squawk, and you swallow it before it can become anything absurd or humiliating. From somewhere in the background you can hear Trisha Yearwood on the jukebox and you might be shaking a little, but your other hand finds Mitch’s shoulder just well enough that you don’t stumble. “You…” You start to catch up to the moment as he starts to move to the music, and the surprise on your face is as obvious as your breathlessness. “You…want to kiss me?”

“Been thinking about how you taste.” He admits as he moves you around the open area of the bar. Skirting the tables that now have chairs flipped up on their tops. “Have for a while.”

“I’m…” Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks, warming your entire face right down your neck and chest. “I’m even less subtle than I think I am…aren’t I?”

“‘Bout as subtle as a rattler warning off a poor bastard walkin’ barefoot.” Mitch grins at you.

“Super.” You huff at yourself, sarcasm dripping from both syllables like honey. “Thank you for bein’ nice to my dumb ass, then.”

“Wondered why you took so long.” Mitch admits. “Got impatient, so I decided to make the move.”

“Sort of thought I was invisible to you,” you admit quietly, letting him lead you through basic steps even though you know damn well the man has moves. It’s you who can’t dance for shit, so he’s being nice again.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Dead wrong.” He tells you. “Just didn’t want you to think I was a creepy boss.”

“I was the creepy employee instead, I guess,” you huff, needing to laugh so that you don’t let your cheeks get as hot as a volcano.

“Thought it was kind of cute, myself.” Mitch drawls. “But….” He lifts a brow at you teasingly. “If we’re gonna do this—” he pulls his hand off your waist to motion between the two of you, “you gotta initiate sometimes. Can’t just be me chasin’ you.” He winks. “You gotta chase back.”

Being thoroughly embarrassed but elated are apparently two sides of the same coin for you, as there is no competition between expressions on your face — just one bright, disbelieving smile that makes you feel lighter than air. “If I had known you felt this way, I would’ve said something a long time ago.”

“It all works out in the end.” He promises, smirking at you softly. The music plays and the two of you sway around the bar, getting comfortable with the closeness of your bodies pressed together.

“Suppose so.” It’s whole actual years of yearning on your part, but you’re not about to second guess this moment. Not by a long shot. Not when he fits even more perfectly against you than you’d dreamed. “Suppose it’s all about what happens next.”

“Yeah.” The songs slowly starts to fade out and he comes to a stop with you still in his arms. “So.” He murmurs, lifting a brow. “What do you want to happen next?”

“I believe…” You quirk your head at him and feel your cheeks heat up all over again. “A kiss was mentioned?”

“Yes it was.” He flashes you a roguish grin and leans on, nudging your nose with his. “So, sweetheart…dance with me.” He orders right before he presses his lips to yours.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[h0tb0x1nnac0ff1n]

Very excited to see your page grow ! 🤍 sorry for the long request 😣😣❕

Can i request a Daryl x fem!reader where the reader’s whole love language was cooking for people before everything went to shit? But because to the outbreak and where they ran from place to place.. she just could never make anything and because lack of ingredients which sort of kills her morale.

However, when they’re staying at Alexandria.. One day she gets one look at their pantry and is strangely super excited and very much productive for the whole afternoon. Which causes confusion among the group because “woah reader is rlly happy, wonder what’s up.” And it’s because she can finally cook the food she loved to make and it’s now time for Daryl to test-taste each and every single dish made all with her love 🤍 .

Just some wholesome fluffiness bc i personally imagine Daryl had like food made by someone for him. He deserves the best as he just eats everything up bc its made with all of our love 🤍🤍🤍

Hello!!! I think this is an amazing idea! Can I just say that I’ve found my people 🤧

Here’s to my first X Reader on here 🥂

Warning: Talks about food/ fluff/ killing walkers (normal TWD stuff)

HOPE YALL ENJOY❤️

You a chef or something’?

For as long as you could remember, you always loved to cook for the people closest to you.

You would make them their favorite foods and the look on their faces when they would take that first bite was enough to make your entire day.

But when everything happened, cooking food that actually tasted good was the least of your concern, breaking your little chef heart. But when you walked into Alexandria for the first time and saw the plethora of food they had, your heart practically sung.

“What type of herbs do you have?”

“Just about everything, basil, thyme, rosemary, paprika. You name it we probably have it.”

“Where did you get all of them?” You said with a little giggle in your throat.

“Out scavenging, this area used to be a huge neighborhood so there was lots of herbs and seasonings that were left behind”

You were so excited for all of the possibilities! You could make so many different foods and you can now FINALLY show off to everyone how much you loved to cook. But there was one person who you especially wanted to impress.

He sat outside of the house cleaning his bow you and Rick’s group had decided to stay in until you could trust these new people.

You walked up to the house with a huge basket of cans, herbs, seasonings, and just whatever you could put into a meal.

“What gotcha all skipping down the street like a child?” the bowman said with his southern twang, an accent you been hearing since you joined the group back at the quarry.

“Just some herbs and seasonings”

“Whatcha gonna use tha for?”

“Uh, cooking?” You said in a questionable tone.

“Do you want me to cook you something?”

“Nah, you don’ gotta do tha. Whatcha gonna make with all of those anyway?”

“I have lots of ideas on what to make, you know it’s been a while since I cooked, maybe you could come inside and taste everything?”

Daryl gave it a second of thought, but in his normal gruff voice “Fine, but you gotta cook what I ask for”

“Okay!”

Ever since you first met Daryl and the quarry you always thought he was a hard working man. Always went out and got food. He was a survivor, a man the world couldn’t take down no matter what it threw to him.

When he saved you after the walkers invaded the camp, you began to not just think he was a cool guy but also to have a sense of respect for him.

“What do you want me to cook you?”

“Well, I got this squirrel that I plan of skinning, be nice to do somethin with it.”

And that got you thinking. “Maybe we could do a stew, or a baked squirrel, or maybe-“ “Woah, calm down ther’ just make a stew that’ll be simple enough all righ’?”

“Okay, a stew. Hmm.” You go inside the house and walk to the kitchen placing down the basket, and you start looking at the seasonings, and vegetables in your basket. You pick out the cucumber, carrots, squash, flour, and eggs “How many squirrels do you have?”

“I got five”

“Okay, I can make a broth from the squirrels and make a minestrone soup”

“The hell is a minestrone soup?” “It’s a soup from Italy, filled with vegetables.”

“Well okay, tell me when it done”

You gave him a big smile and turned around to get started on this soup, you had Daryl skin the squirrels for you, you baked the squirrel and toon of the meat, then placed the meat in a bag and put it in the fridge for the stew. You then got the bones and some meat from the squirrel, put it in a pot filled with garlic, carrots, onions, and you put it to the top of the got with water. Then you let it cook on the stove top for HOURS.

The next day you strained the broth and started on the soup. You chopped up the vegetables and you made the pasta. Using the flour and eggs you used 3 parts flour, and 2 parts egg. You than mixed with your hands and used a rolling pin to flatten it out. Daryl than came up to you to check what you were doing “Why ya just now startin tha?” “I had to make the broth, that took all night.”

“Ya didn’t have to do tha it justa soup I woulda had you make me somethin else if I knew it would take that long.”

“Don’t be an ass Daryl I’m doing this because I care.”

“But why do you care, why do ya care about the way food tastes n all tha, it jus ment for ya to survive.”

“I know, but mankind invented art, and I believe cooking is an art. You deserve some good food after everything you do, just let me show that I care.”

“Fine, just stop being philosophical.”

“That a big word even for you Mr. Dixon.” You joked.

He just scoffed and walked away. ‘Finally some peace to myself’ you thought. You loved that man you do but sometimes he can just get in your nerves. But you know he’s an ass out of love.

One hour later, the soup is finally now just simmering in the pot. You decided it would be a good idea to make a cake because you think Daryl might appreciate it for taking so long to cook the soup.

You ran down to the little ‘Grocery store’ they had down the street and picked up some sugar, butter, and vanilla flavoring.

You devoted to them start on the cake, also making your own butter crème frosting. After two hours, everything was perfect.

You decided to set up the table and piped open a glass of red wine.

“Daryl ! Dinners ready!”

Daryl walked slowly into the house to see you dressed in a beautiful floral summer dress and some fake pearl earrings from the mall back when you were in the quarry.

“Wha’ with all this?” He asked not knowing how to react. All he knew was this beautiful woman whom he adored had made him a meal that smelled sweeter than anything else.

“I thought you would enjoy it, so I decided to get some wine, and the nicest bowl I could find”

“Well, tha’ sweet of ya, wish I dressed up a bit more now.”

Daryl was wearing what he usually does, his t-shirt with his beautiful arms showing, with his angel wing vest and his cargo pants with boots.

“You look just fine Daryl, not like we have many clothes anyway.”

Daryl silently agreed and sat down

You served him the soup with a slice of buttered Italian bread and a glass of wine.

You sat yourself across from him and Daryl instantly started to eat.

“Oh wow-“ Daryl’s face looked as if he had never eaten before.

“This the best soup I ever had”

“Are you messing with me?” Daryl had never really given many compliments to anybody, so him saying so ment a lot.

“I’m serious, the carrots are nice, ion think I ever had squash before so that new.”

“Aw well thank you Daryl”

“Nah thank you, so tell me sunshine” and nickname he had given to you that just made your heart flutter.

“Why is cooking so important to ya?”

“I think it just the feeling that, I can make people happy, that I could make them something and they would enjoy it.”

“Mm” he replied nodding.

After dinner you and Daryl had a slice of the cake you had decided to bake last minute, he also said that the cake was and I quote “Fucking amazing”.

You two decided to hang out and talk while you both cleaned up the kitchen.

“Hey Daryl.”

“Ya what’s up sunshine?”

“Do you think I could cook for you more often? I mean I hope you liked it”

“Woman, I loved your cooking, imma be coming over every nigh’ now.”

You were so happy to hear that, Daryl actually loved your cooking. You felt so happy you couldn’t hold back your smile, making your face a bit red.

Daryl smiled and continued wiping down the table.

After that you decided to go to bed, Daryl had decided to as well, but he slept downstairs still.

You kissed him a goodnight kiss on his cheek and walked up stairs. Thinking about the day, Daryl fell asleep with a smile on his face excited for what tomorrow will bring.

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THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!!!!! So sorry if it shitty but thank you all for reading my first x reader on this app 🤧 ❤️

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Imagines Edition: Misconduct

SERIES MASTERLIST

summary: trevor gets ejected from the last game of the season, so y/n goes to deal with the damage

warnings: cursing, not so fluffy but there is some ish

word count: ~1k

you were out of your seat the second the scrum in front of the bench ensued. you loved a good fight, and frankly, trevor had every right to retaliate. it was no longer exciting when you saw trevor still arguing with the linesman in the box. last time he did that he ended up with a two minute unsportsmanlike misconduct, so you could only imagine what price was being set for him to pay.

the second trevor was escorted out of the box you knew you had to go see him to try and settle some of the dust. you got up and barely said a word to jamie, but you knew he was following you to ensure no one stopped you from getting back there.

“are you gonna-“

“you don’t wanna know, drysdale,” you cut him off.

“i’m staying outside?”

“you’re staying outside,” you confirmed.

trevor was going to be mad. you were going to be there for him, and you were going to be sweet, but first you had to dial him down. you couldn’t gauge the situation yet, but you were prepared for the worst.

you didn’t bother knocking, because if he was 0.2 seconds away from exploding, a knock wasn’t going to be heard.

“trevor zegras, what in the name of hell happened out there?!” you shouted as you flew open the door. trevor whipped his head around over to you. he was still in his jersey and pads, but his bucket and gloves had been thrown into his stall.

“what happened out there?! you saw what happened out there! i was checked and ended up with a penalty! the linesman—“

“i saw the shove, z! i get it, i really do. but you still fought, and that’s what gave you the roughing minor! which isn’t a big deal! danault got two for roughing with you! i don’t know what the fuck grant did, but at least he accepted his!”

“i didn’t—“

“uh huh, no sir, i am not finished!” you growled. trevor was still fuming, but he stood down. “what happened to the heart to heart with dallas, huh? you came home and had one with me about cutting down on your penalty minutes, too! tripping, hooking, interference, i don’t care about those! i know i post about your penalties and cheer for the fights; and fights are okay, they happen. it’s the arguing with the linesman and refs that is getting you in trouble and puts a damper on your name.”

“i know that,” trevor sighed, finally sitting down.

“do you? do you know how much it hurts seeing people talk shit about you online? calling you immature? when older players act the way you do, it’s encouraged. but you know what they don’t frequently do? argue with linesman. get multiple unsportsmanlike misconducts. you deserve to be angry right now, but you need to realize that the second half of what you did tonight was not okay. you are one of the best people i know, and have been since the day i met you. you can be sweet and nice! i’ve seen you have casual conversations with linesman! but they pick on you and give you extra penalties that might not be deserved because of this reputation you’re building.”

trevor didn’t answer. he saw in his stall with his head down, hands clasped, and right knee shaking like a storm. you sighed and knelt down in front of him.

“can i touch you?” you asked gently. you took his hands and pulled them apart to hold them in your own when he nodded. “i’m upset with you. i’m not mad, but i’m not all that happy. and i hate that you’re angry right now because this isn’t how your last game of the season should be and i’m so sorry that it is. you deserve better than this, my love, but to get better, you have to be better.”

trevor squeezed your hands and nodded.

“i know,” he said low.

“can i sit next to you? or are you still cooling off and need me in front of you?”

“i want you to sit next to me.”

you squeezed his hands again as you stood up. trevor scooted over in his stall and put his head on your shoulder the second you sat down. it was a bit uncomfortable with his shoulder pads, but it was worth it. you traced up and down the veins on his arms and breathed with him in silence to help him calm down.

hearing the silence, jamie took the risk of cracking open the door, “hey, is everything okay? jonesy and carrick have been out here for a while now.”

“what the hell did they do?” you laughed.

“we fought a little too much!” you heard jonesy yell, getting a laugh out of you.

you allowed the three of them to enter, giving a kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek as you got up to allow the boys to do whatever they needed in the locker room in peace.

“do we get kisses, too?” jonesy joked. you rolled your eyes and stood on your toes to kiss both of the newly ejected ducks, and gave one to jamie, too, before slipping out.

“will we make the post?!” carrick called out.

“you’ll make the caption!” you yelled back.

all you heard were the cheers and high fives as you walked out the door. it was a mess of a season, and this was a mess of a night, but at least your boys had their team.

[fruitbasketball]

wnba recap 8/23

EXCELLENT night of hoops to cover tn 😮‍💨 i’m so ready y’all

las vegas aces vs minnesota lynx

we got to see this matchup again and i gotta say it feels like 2017 the way the lynx are so dominant rn. the fact that the aces are losing to them not once, but TWICE in a ROW… man. MAN.

a’ja was a little off her game - i rarely see her w out a double and shooting under 50%. problem with a’ja being off her game is it doesn’t feel like the rest of the starting five is stepping up. nobody even broke 15 points y’all like… this the back to back champs??? shitttt

like this is a team that is not taking care of the ball on either end of the floor. every single one of the starters turned the ball over at least 3 times except alysha, their efficiency was fine but come on. it’s the ACES. i’ve seen it way better, and considering this is a team they just LOST to??? obv we’re not even worried about playoff berth here - but damn! that should be an ego hit at the very least!

i just wanna talk about napheesa collier for a second. phee needs to be in more mvp convos. like in my head rn, the mvp ranking goes a’ja, phee, stewie. i don’t think that’s anything crazy, and obv i got AT up there, too.

look at what phee did tonight y’all!!!! i mean this shit is WILD: 27 points, 18 REBOUNDS??? ONE EIGHT?? EIGHTFUCKINGTEEN??? on 73% SHOOTING???? 50% from three y’all and 5 dimes and a couple steals like. that’s an insane stat line bro. it’s fucking NUTS. WHY are we not TALKING ABOUT PHEE??? maybe we are and i’m just not seeing it but… phee, man.

lord look at that husky

atlanta dream vs phoenix mercury

i cannot wait until the atlanta dream aren’t playing anymore bc i actually cannot stand watching them play. i got my stanny loyalties but haley jones is so painfully mediocre rn so i’m really just gonna leave it.

diana lorena taurasi a 360 pass is stupid. it’s STUPID. oh my god that shit is so dee i love it.

los angeles sparks vs washington mystics

hellooooo bueckers bowl!! paige watching this game, biting her fingernails, knowing she’s going to whichever team loses… man i love the w 💀💀💀

battle of the shitty franchises i fucking GUESS like… anyway slim had a gameeee (28 points), kira w a nice double double (14/11), ariel atkins with 15 too (you know i had to get my longhorn in there)

you know what LA’s fuckin problem is??? imma tell you what LA’s fuckin problem is. DOGSHIT efficiency. and y’all are like… yeah, no shit. but like ACTUALLY consider how ridiculous this is: they play a four-forward lineup and not ONE of their bigs breaches 50% fgp except rickea this game. WHAT the FUCK.

especially with THIS lineup?? clock the mismatch!!! you’re gonna have smaller guys on you - there is literally NO REASON they should be out scoring y’all in the paint.

OH MY GOD A1 FUCKIN TANK JOB LIKE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

chicago sky vs connecticut sun

clock how close this was y’all: 82-80 sun win.

then clock that marina mabrey got 24 tn to get the W over her old team.

you can’t even script this shit bro it’s just too good 😭😭😭

man just one more board for AT for the triple: 12/9/11 like she really like that bro.

speaking of stats… how angel reese had 20 BOARDS?? just wiping down that glass tonight HOLY SHIT

yeah this should’ve been an easier win. every day i wonder how the FUCK chicago could’ve given up marina and why the FUCK they did when somebody got their pick anyway… jesus christ y’all

anyway… excited for the rest of the season and the postseason. college football coming up, i won’t yap about it but i’ll be internally insufferable about being in the sec now 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 have a blessed night y’all