#and gave them legs where the picture was cut off

[barachiki]

[worldlxvlys]

speed

chris sturniolo x singer! reader

warnings: smuttt, fingering, oral (male receiving), no actual p in v

a/n: this is for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge !! hope you enjoy <33

la da da da

da da da

the crowd went crazy after hearing only the first few chords of the unreleased song that i’d been teasing for weeks.

considering the fact that they’d never heard the full song, i found it funny how many people genuinely loved the song.

if i told you how much i think about her

you’d think i was in love

i looked out to the sea of people in front of me, growing slightly nervous at the thought of every single one of their attention being on me.

i had definitely performed before, but never in front of a crowd of people this large.

and if you knew how much i looked at her pictures

you would think we’re best friends

my nerves eased a little when i actually looked at the crowd. my eyes bounced from person to person, seeing bright smiles, tears of happiness, and people singing along.

deciding to pretend as though i wasn’t singing in front of an insane amount of people, i let myself enjoy the song.

as the words flew past my mouth and into the microphone, i thought about how excited chris was when i first played the song for him.

right before i got to the chorus, i looked over to the VIP section, immediately catching his gaze.

CHRIS’S POV

when i caught her gaze, there seemed to be a glint of something in her eyes, but i couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

although her face held a sweet smile, i could tell she was about to do something that would have me struggling to contain myself.

i’m starin’ at her like i wanna get hurt

and i remember every detail you have ever told me

so be careful, baby

she began to jump around on stage, her energy and happiness becoming contagious as everyone around her seemed to bask in it.

any nerves that she may have had at the beginning of the song easily washed away as she sang.

i’m so obsessed with your ex

yeah, i’m so obsessed with your ex

her hair bounced on her shoulders as she moved her head to the beat. she looked majestic, the stage lights giving her body a soft glow.

she’s got those lips, she’s got those hips

the life of every fucking party

it was almost as those she was singing about herself, her hands running up and down her body, my eyes following them.

the confidence she had was evident in her stage presence, making her seem all the more attractive.

she laid on the ground on her side, running her hands down her body while she danced seductively on the floor.

there was something so enticing about it, she made such a simple action look so alluring.

she made her way through the song, the adrenaline seeming to course through her as she bounced around on the stage.

she showed the love and passion that she had for music through a wide smile, her eyes shut as she soaked every moment in.

the further she got into her set, the hornier i got. i tried to stop myself, but my mind was consumed with the things i could do to her in her dressing room. i just needed ten minutes.

her tight skirt inched up her legs slightly with every jump, causing the curve of her ass cheek to peak out.

her low-cut top gave the perfect view her cleavage, the pendant of her gold necklace hanging just above where her tits met.

at this point, i was so hard that i was genuinely in pain. luckily for me, all eyes were on y/n, i didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing my raging hard-on.

“hi everyone!” i heard her speak into the mic, making my head whip up to her direction.

“i hope you guys are enjoying the show so far!” she was met with a roar of applause in response, causing her to let out a light chuckle.

“we’re going to take a brief, ten minute intermission, so go to the bar and grab a drink or snack, and we’ll be back soon!” she spoke, giving a light wave before walking off of the stage.

looks like i got my ten minutes.

“going to the bathroom!” i yelled out to nick and matt, bringing a hand down to cover my crotch as i sped walked to the backstage area.

i flashed the security guard my backstage pass before rushing to y/n’s dressing room.

i knocked on the door loudly, waiting to hear her answer before opening the door.

“oh, chris!” she spoke as i closed and locked the door behind me.

she rushed over to me, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“i’m so fucking proud of you, baby. you’re so good out there” i spoke into her neck, pressing slow kisses to her neck.

she tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh as her fingers slid up to my hair to pull on the brown strands.

“such a good girl for me” i sighed into her neck, “you deserve all of the love” i spoke against her skin.

i moved my head to her chest, leaving kisses to the exposed skin.

her hand quickly found my crotch, beginning to palm me through my pants. “want some help with that?” she asked me.

“i- yes, please” i spoke, my breathing picking up as she sunk onto her knees in front of me.

she pulled my pants and boxers down with one tug, wrapping her hands around my thighs as she licked up the small bit of pre-cum that leaked out of my tip.

she swirled her tongue around it before taking me into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.

“fuck” i moaned, my hand finding its way to the back of her head.

i attempted to control myself, refraining from moving my hips.

she momentarily pulled her mouth off of me to say, “c’mon baby, fuck my mouth” before moving to take me fully into her mouth again.

i did as she said, beginning to buck my hips into her mouth, holding her head steady.

she glanced up at me through her lashes, eyes filling with unshed tears as i pushed myself in and out of her warm mouth.

i stared down at her tits, watching as they bounced harshly from the force of my hips against her body.

when she caught my gaze, she pulled the straps to her top down to expose her boobs to me.

“oh my god, yes. feels so good” i groaned out when her nose hit my pubic bone, her head shaking side to side.

there was a sudden knock on the door behind me, catching me by surprise as she continued to suck me off.

“5 minutes until you’re on!” a voice said, leaving as quickly as it came.

i watched as her hand disappeared under her skirt, causing her to begin to moan around me.

i could hear the wet sounds of her fingers inside of her pussy, my head flying back at the thoughts running through my head.

i twitched inside of her mouth, causing her to pull away from me. her mouth remained connected to me by a long string of spit while she began to twist her hand around my length.

“ come on chris, you gonna cum for me? all over my tits?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

i was only able to nod my head as my eyes rolled back, thick ropes of my cum flying onto her chest.

she stood up onto her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned at me.

without another word, i turned us around so that her back was facing the door.

i hooked a hand under one of her knees, lifting it up with one hand, the other finding its way under her dress.

“let me return the favor” i spoke as i moved her panties to the side and pushed two fingers into her entrance.

“fuck, chris” she squeaked as her mouth hung open, her head falling back into the door.

her tight walls squeezed around my fingers, clamping down onto them.

there was a pounding on the door behind her, making her let out a yelp in surprise.

i covered her mouth with my hand, while she moaned into it, gripping my forearm harshly.

“2 minutes !” the voice yelled through the door.

she pushed her hips down to meet my movements, desperately chasing her orgasm.

i circled my thumb around her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered under my touch.

her head fell forward onto my shoulder, while her fingers threaded through my hair. she tugged on it harshly, eliciting a deep groan from me.

“you close baby?” i asked as she began to clench around my fingers again.

“yes, please let me cum. i’m so close, chris” she moaned out as her face scrunched up in pleasure.

“let go, princess. make a mess on my fingers”

she looked so pretty like this, her messy makeup running down her blissed-out face.

her legs began to shake, hips jerking up involuntarily and her back arching off of the door.

she let out one last cry of my name before letting go, coating my fingers in her pleasure.

“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, wiping away the smudged makeup on her cheeks.

i helped her fix herself up, before doing the same for myself.

once we deemed ourselves presentable, i opened the door. i was met with a member of the stage crew, who seemed to be preparing to knock on the door.

he gave us a knowing look before speaking, “you two couldn’t have waited until after the show?”

the two of us glanced at each other, giving the man blank stares.

“you” he pointed to y/n, “need to go get your makeup touched up” he spoke, waving over her makeup artist.

“and you” he pointed to me, “need to go back to your seat. stay away from her until after the show, got it?” he asked as he placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me towards the direction i originally came from.

when i tuned back to look at y/n she was already getting whisked away by her makeup artist.

i made my way back to my seat, meeting my brothers’ gaze. “so, you enjoy your bathroom break?” nick asked, brows raised.

“yeah, it was fine” i spoke, keeping my eyes forward to avoid his gaze.

“really? cause you just came from the opposite direction of the bathroom” matt pointed out.

before i could say anything in response, the crowd broke into a round of loud applause.

i watched y/n walk on stage, lightly smirking at the way her legs lightly shook with each step.

“so subtlety just isn’t your thing, huh?” nick asked.

“never was going for subtlety, just speed”

collide (matt version)

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[randombush3]

labor omnia vincit

alexia putellas x reader

words: 7538

summary: well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

content warnings: a little bit of drugs and alcohol

notes: HEY HEY HEYY. this is a TRILOGY and here’s the first part. enjoy the build up x

2015. London. 

You groan at the thought of singing another word. The mug set haphazardly on the ledge reserved more for instruments than crockery, half in the air after the last time you returned it to its place, is now empty. There is no hot water left to soothe your burning throat, and there is no patience remaining in your finite store. 

The girls, on the other hand, seem to soldier on. A harmony is incorrect? They sing it again. The producer, a fat old man called Dave whose taste in music might rely on his taste in women, isn’t a fan of a certain beat? They are thinking of ways to change it. 

Ever since your single was released two years ago, this has been your life. Or, at least, the less glamorous side of it. The other side, consisting of sold-out arenas, exclusive clubs, and a world tour that only increased your total domination over the music industry, has been paused while you and the girls slave away on the second album. Apparently, you’re being uncooperative. You would call it boredom. 

“It’s four in the morning, Dave,” Anya states, jabbing out her index finger towards his Rolex, paid for with the revenue from the last single you released. It topped the charts for days. Dave glances down at the clock face with a grunt. “Look, Y/n’s already left us and gone to bed.” 

“Still here,” you murmur, rather unconvincingly, from your spot on the far-too-comfortable sofa behind the mixing desk. Sprawling out even further, you wrap your legs around the third member of your group, Gio. She squeals as you pull her on top of you. “I want to go home, though.” 

“Don’t we all know it,” Gio giggles. She’s had at least six cups of coffee since you arrived at the studio for the second recording session of the day – a solid nine hours ago. That was only after a break for a late lunch or early dinner (whichever your dietician preferred to call it). 

“We need to finish.” 

“I need to sleep,” you reply. Gio scrambles off you in time to avoid the glare you are sent by your producer. “And I’m not sleeping here again. Last time it gave me a crick in my neck and I’m fairly sure the cleaner felt me up.” 

“The sexy cleaner is mine,” Anya declares, jerking you upright. Your stomach lurches with emptiness. “Otherwise, I agree. Let us fuck off home. Please, Dave.” 

He looks at the three of you, bags under your eyes, making long rubbed off (or cried away, in Gio’s earlier over-emotional state). You have changed out of the outfit the paparazzi pictured you in earlier, opting for the stained, grey joggers you folded away in your Birkin. Anya and Gio snuck in so that they weren’t caught in their pyjamas. 

Dave sighs. 

“Tomorrow, don’t go for lunch with any of your silly boyfriends. Come here for noon, and we’ll finish when we finish. We’re getting this album done, and you can’t fire me until it’s out.” 

His sense of humour is appreciated, even if his work ethic is not, and you practically bolt out of the studio, friends in tow. 

Anya grabs your hand as you rush down the corridor, making your way to the exit. “No lunch with your boyfriend,” she repeats Dave’s words, mocking his gristly voice. You roll your eyes, snatching your hand away from your friend before pushing open the back door of the studio, heading towards your new BMW i8. 

You have been friends with Anya Kazi and Giovanna Bartoli since the age of two, meeting them on the first day of nursery, specifically after cutting one of Gio’s ringlets off with safety scissors. Though Anya happily clapped along, she did not defend you, and so you went for her hair as well. Your teacher, hoping to quell the budding animosity, placed all three of you in time-out, where a united front was formed. It hasn’t been broken since that moment, though a few years ago, you were terrified it would be. You, with a well-concealed preference for women, however, have managed to keep your friends. They assured you that they 1) already knew and 2) could not care less. 

“You don’t even like cars,” Gio scoffs at the sight of your latest purchase, your last name printed proudly on the number plate. “Was this an ‘I’m famous’ buy or did your daddy get it for you?” 

“He emailed me a few recommendations,” you answer off-handedly, sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the ignition. It growls with a mean, menacing precision, the engine’s quality known and heard. “And don’t pretend that your family doesn’t have a Roll-Royce parked in the driveway of their million-pound townhouse.” 

“You are just as much from Hampstead as I am, girl.” 

You roll your eyes, stifling a yawn. Anya pulls out in front of you, no doubt speeding off to avoid the boy-racers you and Gio become at this time of night. 

Your flat has progressed from that of the one you shared with the girls in Princess Park two years ago. It’s nicely decorated, you like to think, with most of the work being done to it while you were touring. 

The walls are hung with artwork; some your own, some not. The canvases and frames adorn every room, dictating the vibe, declaring your individuality to any visitors who choose to admire the paintings and sketches. Then, if they were to look at the shelves dotted around the space, they’d see books with matching themes to the art. Your living room has a print of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, blown up in a gilded frame, hanging above your green leather sofa, adding colour to the white walls, and then a bookshelf filled with navy-bound novels about whatever you fancy. You’re quite chuffed with the design, though it was really the interior designer you hired who came up with the idea. 

Without a second glance to any of the intricate details of your home, you stumble your way to the bathroom, going through the motions until it is time to get into bed. It’s a big bed – one that often feels too big for just one person – but the mattress is inviting and you dive into a deep sleep head-first, knowing you will not be getting up until someone calls you tomorrow morning. 

…

Barcelona, seven hours earlier. 

The bar is busy, as most are in Barcelona at this time of night, and the girls are out for dinner and a post-training drink. The wine glasses have deceived them all, though, because they have been emptied and refilled a few more times than Xavi would be impressed with. 

A young, budding star does not drink during the season, the alcohol drought both self-inflicted and encouraged by every coach who promises to take her far. Her eyeliner must be smudged by now, but Alexia can’t leave yet because Jenni has promised that she can stay over at her place and she needs her to take her back. 

The reason for her temporary relocation is that Alexia is fed-up with her mother’s pestering, seeing as it is only one week into the season and she is already being called a workaholic. She can’t stay in that house tonight, especially when her little sister is the complete opposite: sleeping with anyone who gives her a chance and never doing anything that will help her future. Eli Segura is baffled by the lack of balance in her life – two daughters, two extremes – but she is the most concerned with her eldest, angering Alexia to no end. 

Alexia is also fed-up with this conversation. It’s all the girls seem to be talking about these days, utterly consumed with this new English girl group just like the rest of the world. 2sday has completely taken over all interesting topics of discussion, and Alexia doesn’t think she can handle being asked which one of their songs she likes the most one more time. 

She likes them, she guesses, but so does everyone. Todo el mundo is in love with all three members. 

The girls are discussing who their favourite is. 

“She’s Italian though, and that’s cool of her,” Jenni argues, putting forward her case for Bartoli as if she chose to have parents from a certain country. Alexia hums in thought, thinking of the pictures she saw from the world tour – how long her legs are, tanned and sculpted and shown off nicely by the mini-skirt she wore. “Did you know that her little sister is a model? She’s called Cristina or something. The beauty is practically in her DNA.” 

“Aren’t all three of them models?” asks Marta pointedly, finger tapping the photoshoot on the magazine cover.

“Well, all three of them are sexy,” Jenni replies, remembering just how enamoured the world is with the three break-out stars. “Ale, which one is your favourite?” The magazine that had sparked this conversation is slid towards the twenty-one-year-old, and she looks at the picture on the front page: you, Gio, and Anya, all dressed in oversized suits with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and eyes piercing, ‘girl power’ brandished over the bottom of the photograph. 

“Y/n L/n,” Alexia answers easily, fascinated by the sculpture of your face. She thinks you are beautiful, in a less crass way than her teammates. “And you lot sound like men with the way you talk about them.” 

“Ooh, Alexia is getting all high-and-mighty,” Jenni teases. “Looks like it’s time to take the baby home.” 

“She’s cranky because she’s tired and it’s past her bedtime,” adds another teammate, though Alexia is too wound up to really care who. 

They all make little pouty faces at her as she finishes the last of her glass of water, the clear liquid standing out against the deep red of most of the table. Jenni rolls up the magazine and swats her shoulder with it, before handing it over to its owner and finally allowing Alexia her rest. 

In silence, they sit in her car – an old Ford in need of replacing but not on the footballer’s list of things she will buy with the money they are now getting. FC Barcelona Femení has become, at last, a fully professional team, and Alexia looks ahead to the future with a hopeful dream and the knowledge that she will need to work hard if she ever wishes to become the best. Jenni has become a good friend ever since she joined the club last year, and she brings a global ambition to the friendship that she knows Alexia does not have. Jenni is from Madrid, and plays for Barcelona because she can, not because it is her club. Her team is the same as her grandfather’s, and she often expresses to Alexia her wish to play for them someday, as well as scoring in every league she possibly can. Young Alexia Putellas has never once considered stepping foot outside of Spain. 

Not only that, but her father died three years ago and here, in Barcelona, is where she feels closest to him. She cannot fathom a life past the plazas and the cobbled streets of her home. And she’s glad. She’s safe here, and she needs nothing more than her team, her family, and a football at her feet.  What more could she possibly want? 

As she settles on Jenni’s sofa, blanket pulled over her body, head resting on a plump cushion that smells faintly of Jenni’s dog, Alexia decides to watch whatever is on TV right now. Jenni, in an attempt to learn English, has found an English news channel that seemingly reports on ‘exclusive’ celebrity news. There you are, plastered on the screen, your picture zoomed in to the point of the pixels blurring.

The woman speaking has a high-pitched and critical voice, saying words that Alexia does not hear. She stares at your picture, considering the life you have, imagining that, one day, footballers like her have the stardom of Beckham and Messi and Ibrahimovic. Though she herself does not crave that exposure, well aware of her shyness, she thinks about the future with a wistful sigh, lost in her dream as the English woman narrates what she can see, judging how you have opened your mouth to take a bite of the food, listing the brands you are wearing. 

And, in her weird, exhausted haze, she sees your face. It’s probably only because you’re on the screen and she’s staring at it, but you are there as she pictures the growth of women’s football. You’re there in the stands as she plays in front of a sold-out Camp Nou, cheering and singing along to Catalan chants she knows you’d never actually know in real life. Slowly, she falls asleep, and, just before she closes her eyes, you are there: back to her, dressed in a familiar shirt. Alexia. 11. Somewhere in a far-off fantasy land, Alexia Putellas marries you that night. 

…

It’s Sunday. 

You drive to your parents’ house in Hampstead, only twenty minutes away from the flat you now live in, to reluctantly attend their weekly Sunday Roast. Before, it was a condition of remaining on the booking list for the annual family holiday, seeing as you had declared university was going to wait until after your gap year and then had become a popstar instead. Now that both you and your brother can afford to come anyway, the tradition is there for sentimental value. A world tour made you realise how much you love them all, even your annoying older brother. 

Your parents are lawyers who met at university and found love in a city that they never moved out of, both of them doing extremely well for themselves. They raised you and your brother to ski, horse-ride, and attend prep schools and public schools, although boarding school was not quite desirable. Your dad speaks in a booming voice, received pronunciation an act used for court, slight Mancunian accent lilting his words whenever he relaxes. 

“Darling!” your mum exclaims, surprised at your attendance just like she is every week. “Come on in, come on in. Daddy has the footie on, and your brother is on his way. Don’t you have songs to sing? How come you’re here?” 

Ushered inside your own home, you smell the brief scent of your family before adjusting to it all and fitting right back into the chaos. There’s beef in the oven, and the roar of the crowd playing faintly from the kitchen where your dad must be preparing the potatoes. He’s proud of his potatoes. 

You slip off your shoes – a new pair of Uggs – and follow your mother to the kitchen. Dad is there, doing exactly what you’d expected, hands working instinctively as his eyes focus on the TV, mouthing along with the commentary as Manchester United take on their opponent. “Sit down,” Dad says as soon as you walk in, pointing at the stools tucked into the island. “We’re not doing too badly, and today should be an easy win.” 

“I know. I do watch the football without you, Daddy.” 

He tuts. “Yeah, but you don’t get the same level of commentary on your own. Plus, United isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I have thought of a publicity move that you should definitely make – it would really help you guys out.” You entertain his suggestion, knowing that’s what dads do, sitting back on the stool with a smirk on your face, already thinking of an interesting way to tell him he is being stupid. “So, what I was thinking was that you guys do a half-time show! You love football, and the girls love footballers – what isn’t to like? Plus, I bet any club would jump at the chance to make some money from extra tickets sold just to see you.” 

“And you haven’t already contacted our manager?” you check, finding your father to be quite unpredictable and rash. His ego is also far too inflated by clients who don’t see him for the kind but bumbling fool he truly is, and so he often takes it upon himself to put forward any ideas he has to your management team, much to everyone’s inconvenience (the last thing they need, amongst sorting out photos of you snogging girls and your friends in various compromising positions, is an old man telling them what he thinks will boost your image). “It’s a good idea, I must admit. I’ll bring it up.” 

“Good stuff.” There’s a clang of metal as the potatoes go in the oven too, and the fridge opens with a pop as your dad begins to fish out the carrots and parsnips to complete your meal, Your mother is responsible for everything else. “Try to get it at Barcelona or Real Madrid,” he says off-handedly. “Imagine singing in the Nou Camp. That’d be crazy.” 

“Not the appearance I dreamt of when I was little, but I’d still get to touch the grass,” you agree. 

“Y/n, we knew you’d never be a footballer. You haven’t got the coordination for that.” They tried to support you, they really did, but then music lessons took over and the sport became a form of entertainment, not exercise. “Women’s football is really something, though. In twenty years, it’ll be good. Maybe you should invest.” 

“I know zero women’s footballers, apart from – what’s her name? Kelly Smith. The English one?” 

“The Arsenal player, yeah. It’s a shame we don’t have a proper women’s team.” 

“Should I fund one?” you joke, but his face lights up and he has taken you seriously. “Okay, I know we’ve been successful thus far, but we haven’t raked in that much. Who knows! It could all go to shit and I could end up right where I started, in my childhood bedroom with no degree and no choice but to mooch off my parents.” 

“I get the sense that you’re slightly stressed about this album,” Dad says slowly, smiling wide, proud to have worked you out. He has always been good at that; knowing what you are feeling. It is a wonderful trait for him to have, seeing as your mother struggles with emotional connection of any kind. She is too much of a corporate big-shot for that, anyway. 

“It’s killing me.” You sigh, slumping on the stool. “It’ll be released and then we’ll hop on tour and I’m so tired. Anya has a crush and Gio’s dating someone and now all of our songs are about love and I just… I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I will ever know about that.” 

And, though he hesitates, Dad walks around the island and places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you will find the right man someday. 

Deep down, he knows that the daughter who loved to watch football and never once commented on their hairstyles or pretty faces – the girl whose crushes on members of boy bands always seemed half-hearted and forced – is not a daughter who is going to bring home a man one day, with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. He knows. It is quite possible that he has always known. Whether he is going to bring it up before you feel comfortable to talk about it is a different matter, especially since your mother has dreams of her daughter’s husband that she has whispered to him ever since they found out their second child was a girl. 

Sunday is pretty routine, which you are grateful for. Your brother, also a lawyer, discusses his latest case, resembling the stories your father used to tell at the dining table: stories you’d both yawn at when you were younger. You dish out a few industry secrets, recounting your most recent trip to Cirque Le Soir. With disdain, your mother berates you for any possible drug-usage, scolding you for something you have not admitted to but somehow knowing that you are guilty of it anyway. It feels much like the family dinners of your teenage years, but you suppose that pop stars never really have to grow up and decide that it isn’t all bad. After all, you drive home in a very stylish car.

Then, the week starts with another gruelling, waste-of-time day at the studio, where you go inside before the sun comes up and emerge long after it has set. Dave is decently pleased with the vocals so far. There are another seven tracks to go, but most of those are being written by other people. Mark Ronson, you’ve heard, is open to working with your group. It’s all very exciting, even if you feel like you have run a marathon by the end of the day. 

On Tuesday, you remember to tell your manager and publicist (she’s a woman of many talents) about your father’s idea. At first, her reluctance is extremely evident, but it later dissipates once she thinks about it, having promised you and the now-excited girls to see what she can do. 

You are on a private plane to Barcelona before you can realise what is happening. 

Bags packed with more make-up and spangled underwear than proper clothes, and sunglasses shielding your hungover eyes courtesy of last night’s consoling of a newly-single Giovanna Bartoli, you try your best not to vomit while in the air and even squeeze in a spot of light reading. The girls laugh (wincing at the sound) when they see you revisiting the Aeneid. You like Virgil, though, so you don’t mind. 

“How many days are we here again?” Anya asks, equally hungover. 

“Three,” replies your manager, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Please check if the players are married before you do anything with them.” 

“I’ve sworn off men,” mumbles Gio miserably. She stretches her legs out with a sniffle, and then draws them back in to protect her broken heart. “If I’d get off with any woman, I’d like her to be Spanish.” She clears her throat, the lump of tears disappearing as she retrieves her GCSE-level Español, giving it a shot. If not to be serious than to at least piss you off. “Hola. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Quieres dormir conmigo?”

“What? And then you’re going to shove your tongue down her throat?” Gio looks at you with a smirk. “That is not how you kiss a woman.” 

“Hey, you can’t keep them all to yourself!” 

You laugh, though your manager’s attention has been caught and she is already showing her disapproval. “It would be better that I did if that’s how you think it works.” 

“None of you are kissing women.” 

“That’s not fair,” Anya protests, upset that she didn’t even get to join in the conversation before it got shut down as swiftly as a rowdy houseparty in an American teen-movie. 

“I agree. That’s not fair on Y/n, who actually needs to kiss a woman so her knickers aren’t in a twist all the time.” 

“I’ll twist your knickers in a minute,” you threaten, fist raised to Gio in good humour.

“See what I mean? She needs to let off some steam.” 

“Well, do it discreetly if you must. Do your shows, go out with the players, and bring whoever into your bed as long as they have tight lips and no vendetta against you. Gio, we’re going to have to say something about him ch–”

You gulp, not wanting your friend to cry again. “Wow, the view is really nice,” you interrupt, catching Anya’s appreciative nod in the corner of your eye as you splay your palm on the glass of the aircraft’s window, marvelling at Barcelona’s plazas and cobbled streets. Imagine this being your home, you think to yourself. 

…

Jenni is squawking when Alexia makes her way into the circle of players during their drinks break. Alexia knows her friend is excited to go to the men’s game later on today, but she hadn’t realised it is to this extent until she gets grabbed by the forward and shaken as though she is a snowglobe. 

“I got the golden ticket,” Jenni shouts in her ear, making their teammates around them laugh. “Me, you, and Mario are going to the match tonight!” 

“I already knew that?” They don’t really get free tickets, but they can be heavily discounted. Tonight isn’t a super big deal, though Alexia may stand corrected. “Was I not supposed to know that?” 

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Mariona says, squirting some of her water at the midfielder. She recoils from the droplets, but they land on her training top anyway, and Alexia is already pissed off with the entire world. “Alexia, do you seriously live under a football-shaped rock?” 

Alexia takes a moment to brush off the teasing, picturing the bursting trophy cabinet that is almost within her grasp. “Yes, and it is very homely.” 

“Madre mía, you are one of a kind,” Jenni says with a sigh, movements less aggressive as she drapes an arm around Alexia’s shoulders. “Guess who’s singing at half-time tonight. You’re going to drool so much that the people below us will think it’s raining.” 

At this, Alexia knows exactly who Jenni is talking about, and she blushes though it could easily be mistaken for redness from exercising. 

“I just think she’s pretty,” comes Alexia’s slightly defensive reply. They walk to the middle of the training pitch, rejoining the team as Xavi explains a confusing drill. Neither really listen. 

“Is this your first celebrity crush?” Mariona jibes, overhearing the conversation and finding it necessary to join in. Any excuse to poke fun at the baby of the team. 

Jenni ruffles Alexia’s hair, ruining her neat ponytail. “Alexia’s in love with a straight girl,” she sings. 

It’s then that the whole team chooses to get involved, ears perking up at the mention of Alexia’s lovelife – a more or less forbidden topic. Their captain, Marta Unzué, even chimes in with a ‘we’ve all been there’. Like a stroppy teenager, Alexia folds her arms over her chest and turns to focus entirely on football, something that she knows she loves and loves her back. They leave her alone for the rest of the training session. 

She even manages to forget about what comes after the first forty-five minutes of the match, sitting comfortably in a stadium that is her version of heaven. 

You, on the other hand, cannot distance yourself from the nerves of performing in no less than ten minutes. 

The players were nice when you accompanied Anya to speak to them, and they spent a good while fumbling their way through English to invite you all to join them tonight at Pacha. You took photos with Messi and Neymar to show your father. 

The outfit, if you can call it that, is tight and could possibly show your entire bum to eight-five thousand Culers tonight if you’re not careful. Silver eyeshadow glistens in the mirror when you peer at your reflection, inspecting the bejewelled bralette and tiny shorts you are wearing. 

Anya and Gio, who both look dazzling in their own silver combinations, tell you that it is time to get your microphones sorted. When you stand in the tunnel, ready to go out, you see that they have laid out a sheet on top of the grass so your heels don’t ruin it. Part of you wishes that you were in a football strip and boots. The music starts before you can get too reminiscent. 

You sing with the same adrenaline you always get, and the crowd becomes a blur in your mind as you lose yourself to the melody. The bass hits your heart just like the lyrics do – especially since this song was written by Anya about her last boyfriend – and you hold back tears as the choreography leads your limbs in an energetic dance that must be entertaining to watch. 

When it finishes, and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath, Alexia thinks you almost catch her gaping at you. Your eyes seem to be scanning the stands. Maybe you see her. 

Maybe that is why you, in your big, black hoodie and paparazzi-proof baseball cap are sitting in the stands of Estadi Johan Cruyff the very next day. 

Alexia does not point you out to her teammates. You make it clear to all who recognise you that you are trying to be incognito, and either the fans at the stadium have no knowledge of popular culture, or they are granting you your privacy.

She is now the entertainer, shining under the spotlight of the bright sun, a ball at her feet like that is where all balls were made to be. And you watch carefully – she can feel it – but you do not stay long enough for her to even think about approaching you. 

…

2016. Somewhere in the sky between LA and New York. 

This time round, the tour has confirmed your hatred for all plane journeys, hotels, and sold-out concerts. 

You’re dead on the inside, numb to the glitter and sparkles of your life, and your eyes are always halfway to being sealed shut in the deepest slumber humanly possible. 

There are a few things that ease the disdain you have for your career, but none of those compare to the channel you have found that streams Barcelona Femení’s football matches. Your excuse, made to no one other than yourself, is that Manchester United has no women’s team. Of course you’d watch them instead, if you could. 

“This is peak lesbianism,” Gio comments, her fifth time saying the exact same thing, prodding a napping Anya to alert her to your boredom-killer on the flight. You’re glad these planes have wi-fi. “We’re in America, which has all the women’s football in the world, and you still choose to watch your crappy little stream on your cracked iPad.” 

“If you hadn’t decided to jump out at me, the screen would be just fine,” you grumble, transfixed on the way Alexia Putellas dribbles with the ball, turning and passing to Jennifer Hermoso who slots the ball right into the bottom-right corner of the net. The pitch looks damaged, and you really have researched how you can help out the sport, but it is hard to dispute anything the girls say about your crush on an unknown squad member when everyone knows you could get your football fix from the Premier League. 

You’re yet to tell anyone that you have just bought this season’s Barcelona shirt. You’re not sure if you’d be invited on the family ski trip if your father were to find out. 

“Sorry, sorry,” replies Gio, hands raised in the air, a gesture of surrender. In hindsight, your response was clipped. “Didn’t mean to distract you from such an important task. When will you tell us who it is that you fancy? We’ve been waiting for you to come to us, but, fuck me, you’ve got tight lips.” 

“And, before you say it – we’re not nosy. We just care. And we find it cute.” 

“And…” 

“What?” you practically grunt, biting your tongue as a hefty challenge sends Alexia Putellas face-first onto the patchy grass. It makes your heart jump. 

“Well, it’s not like she won’t want you, so make your move.” 

“Just like you made your move on Justin Bieber?” She winces. “We did warn you, babe.” 

“It’s alright,” Anya comforts with a small smile, though you are well aware of how funny she also found the situation. Being in LA, as a celebrity, is always an interesting experience. In Gio’s defence, she did not know about a certain model standing right behind her, and you are fairly sure she had run off to do lines with someone or other earlier. “But, yeah, seriously. Y/n, do you want us to guess?” 

“Go on. Guess.” You smirk, because they’ll never–

Anya’s hand flaps as she puts her privately-educated memory to good use. “What’s-her-face?” she squeals, hand slapping down on her thigh as the name eludes her, the flapping resuming once she remembers. “Alexia Putellas!” 

You rip your eyes from your cracked screen, widened in horror. “How did you know?” you ask, voice a whisper as you swallow your shock. 

“You talk about her all the time. ‘Ooh, she’s the future’ this, ‘watch her grow’ that. Just talk to her. She’ll fancy you back.” 

“She’s not a celebrity. Normal people don’t slide into people’s DMs like we do, and I have no clue whether or not she can speak English,” you reason, having said the same thing to yourself every time your finger hovers on that feature of Instagram. “And I don’t like her? You saw me kissing–”

“God, drop it. You know she kisses anyone with a mouth, and you also know that you’re lying your arse off. Whoever this footballer is, just talk to her. If anything, it’ll be good for you to spend time with someone who isn’t going to drag you right into their own closet.” 

“Closets in LA can be very big,” you say with a sigh, having already received a lecture about the damage-control your publicist always seems to be doing. You don’t really think it’s ‘damage’ if a photo of you enjoying yourself with someone, but your publicity team deems any picture of you with a woman one to be locked away in some encrypted file and never released in the papers. 

…

You: Hola! Congratulations on the win. :)

You cringe so hard, but you send it anyway, your friends leaning over either shoulder as they egg you on, wishing your closet gobbled you whole and spat you out somewhere further away than Narnia.

Alexia, in Barcelona, groans at the sound of her phone buzzing, wondering who on Earth is texting her this late. 

And she drops the device on her face when she sees what the notification is. 

Because it really does not make sense, and she is not used to the idea that women’s footballers could one day fraternise with celebrities like you without feeling out of place. (And she’s had a crush on you for about two years and you’re texting her at midnight to congratulate her.)

You, on the other hand, are gripping onto your phone with trembling hands, holding on for dear life. Anya, who claims her C in A-level Spanish was unjust and incorrect, is brainstorming your next message, adamant that you’ll seem cooler if you display some knowledge of her mother tongue. You don’t tell her that, of course, Alexia’s first language would have been Catalan, because you don’t want it to be obvious that you have done a little bit (a lot) of research. 

Gio tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear for you – a comforting gesture. “Hey,” she says kindly, “what’s the worst that could happen?” 

She tries. 

She fails. 

You have compiled a list within a millisecond. “I don’t know,” you start, but, oh, you do. “She could screenshot the conversation and leak it to Twitter? Or she’s not a lesbian and she is disgusted that I am? She could have a girlfriend? She could think my account’s been hacked and report me and everything’ll be deleted? Or all of the above?!” 

The chat is still open on your phone, but you can’t see past your tidal wave of anxiety. 

“I think you’re just nervous.” Understatement of the century. 

Before you can make a snide remark saying exactly that but to Anya’s face, your message is no longer the only one present. 

“She replied!” you shout, volume a concoction of fear and excitement and a thousand emotions in between. 

Alexia: Gracias por ver :)

“Thanks for watching,” Anya translates. 

You exhale. “Okay. Done. No more.” You ignore both of their facepalms with the sort of blissful ignorance you’re sure only delusional people possess, but it is better to have a healthy heart rate than to understand the lyrics to whatever ballad the two of them have in the works. 

…

“Kiss her.” 

“What?” 

“Just kidding,” Jenni giggles, winking at Alexia and stealing her glass of something-not-too-strong. 

The team has been invited to a party with the men’s team, all because their favourite girl group is back in town and are treating the club like a pit-stop on their way to Madrid for the European-leg of their tour. The album has been in the top ten worldwide ever since it was released.

Alexia looks good tonight, as said by Jenni who thought her wardrobe consisted solely of football strips and Barcelona merchandise, and she revels in her little secret. Your little secret. She hasn’t told anyone that you messaged her two months ago, even if the conversation ended with her response. 

Which is why Jenni is set on teasing Alexia about her non-existent chance with you, especially when you have spent your entire night on the other side of the reception room, deep in conversation with Neymar Jr., who is not shameful about his appreciation for the plunging neckline of your tight dress. He has a girlfriend, but Alexia has seen enough tabloid headlines to know that most famous people don’t care. 

Your glass is always full, though that is your own doing. Something about the way a pair of hazel eyes have been watching you from the minute you walked in makes the air around you feel heavier than it should, and alcohol helps to dull your fluster. 

Anya and Gio have circled back a few times, adding to their persuasion each lap. When you see Gio heading your way, a small smile playing on her lips as someone or other trails behind, you excuse yourself from your conversation with your personal hero (who, sadly, would be able to describe your boobs but not your face if he were asked) and clasp your fingers around her forearm, pulling the two of you even further from a certain women’s footballer on the other side of the room.

“She’s staring,” says Gio in a low voice, leaning in to speak into your ear. “She’s staring at you like she wants to eat you.” 

“I’d let her,” you reply, lips loosened from the champagne you’ve been drinking. “She is beautiful.” 

“She is still staring.” 

You decide to be bold. You stare back, and Alexia is trapped, frozen to the spot. “She is so beautiful.” 

“Now you’re both staring.” 

“I’m going to talk to her.” 

“You should,” she encourages, slurring. The blur might come from your distraction, your drunkenness, or her own intoxication. You don’t care. 

Absently, you nod. “Yeah.” 

She presses her fingertips between your shoulder blades, cold hands making you shiver. “Go. You got this.” 

“Yeah.” 

She pushes you away from her, in Alexia’s direction. Your feet carry you on what feels like an inevitable path. 

And you… walk right past her, out of the door, and into the warm air of the evening to have a smoke instead. 

Behind you, Gio lets out a silent scream, turning right around and giving up on your happiness because what more can she do? And Alexia, who is confused about what just happened and bored of this event anyway, is glad to be given an excuse to leave. 

Except, you are blocking her exit, cigarette pressed to your lips as you inhale the smoke like it is a lifeline. She frowns, lips a tight line of disappointment, really. “¿Tú fumas?” she asks, though she knows both the answer and of your incompetence when it comes to her language. 

You let your eyes meet hers, and Alexia shivers, though she tells herself it is only because it’s November. “Hola,” you reply. 

For some reason, Alexia is drawn in. She steps closer to you, and you don’t have anywhere to go, backed against the wall you are leaning on. You’re drunk, and the cigarette has burned down to a stub of orange and black. She’s also drunk – less so than you – and she has nothing to lose right now. She is no one, in her mind, and you are far from prudish. 

She decides, once she is barely ten centimetres away from you, that your dress is provocative, but it only adds to your existing beauty. You push your chest out, standing up straighter. 

The dance is very still, and very silent, but you can imagine what it feels like to kiss her and you know that she is thinking the same thing. 

“You can, if you want to,” you whisper, hoping she understands. 

Luckily, she does. 

Alexia fumbles her way through the first tentative second, shocked that this is what she is doing, but she finds her footing and relaxes into the taste of champagne and cigarette smoke, the heat of your body sparking a fire within her. You pull her closer, pressing her body into yours, and you are now consumed by desperation. The kiss grows messier, and Alexia’s hands begin to roam, mind lost in a haze of desire. She is explorative but she is gentle, and you gasp into her mouth as her tongue pushes past your lips and a hand settles on the curve of your bum, the other cupping your jaw. 

Briefly, she wonders how many girls you have done this with. You seem experienced. The thought, while a little disturbing, sort of spurs her on, feeding into her competitive nature. This will be unforgettable for her regardless of the outcome because it’s an interesting story to tell, but what about you? Are you even aware of what you’re doing? Are you straight? No, you can’t be. You messaged her, so you started this. She is only… finishing it? 

You sense her distraction, pulling back with a blink and a deep intake of fresh air. She tries to move back, afraid of what comes next, but you don’t let her go, clutching onto the hardened muscles of her arms to hold her in place, ready to kiss her again.

The moment is spoilt by a voice – an English voice – and the theft of your attention. Your eyes, previously hooded and dark, widen as they flit towards the door behind her, terribly upset that your friends have developed the worst timing known to man. Gio shouts again, telling you that it’s time to go. You have to get to Madrid, and the pilot would be incredibly annoyed to hear that the flight was delayed because you were too caught up in snogging a girl you may or may not fancy. 

“We really need to go!” Anya repeats, growing impatient with you as you debate giving up your entire music career. “Like, it is insane how badly you need to get your arse over here to say your goodbyes and then jump in the taxi to the airport with us.” 

“Can it just–”

“No!” they both shout in unison. 

You sigh, looking at Alexia, the proximity prodding at a feeling low in your stomach. She doesn’t squirm under the intensity of your gaze, instead sporting a lazy, blissfully ignorant grin. And you’re about to break her little heart. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, forehead resting on her shoulder as you mumble your words out. You have a duty to your job, or, as Virgil puts it: labor omnia vincit. Work conquers all.

“You have to…?” she tries. 

“Go.” 

“Tiene que irse,” Anya translates, reminding you of her presence (and her much better comprehension of Spanish). “Ahora.” 

“Ah.” Alexia’s hand cups the back of your neck as you raise your head, and she kisses you, though the kiss is short. 

You pat your body down with a sudden haste, wandering past your alcohol-clouded thoughts to remember the location of your ticket, reaching down to grab your clutch from where you’d dropped it on the floor while having a smoke. It pops open as Alexia watches your movements, and you retrieve a pen and a scrunched up ticket (you have no idea why that’s in there, but you are grateful that it is). 

“Here.” You hand her the ticket, pressing it into the palm of her hand and then sealing your goodbye with a quick peck to her lips. 

Then, you are gone, running off at an impressive speed in those heels, chasing your friends into the building. 

She pauses herself in time for a moment, drawing back her grasp on reality as her thoughts still and she breathes in your lingering perfume. And then she blinks – blinks her way back into midnight in Barcelona. 

She opens her palm to see what your gift was, unfolding the piece of paper with an overwhelming curiosity that almost rips it at the edges. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in fresh, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Twenty-two-year-old Alexia Putellas, the catalyst for change in women’s football as the world knows it, suddenly sees her future set right out in front of her. Because there you are.

[sinofwriting]

Names and Practice - Ollie Bearman

Words: 1,142 Prompt: Soulmate AU (also short!reader) Note(s): Italics means they are talking to each other in their heads. Ollie is listed on his website as being 1.87 meters (6’1 in feet) so reader in this is about 1.52 meters (5’ feet) to give the height difference

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Ollie has to stifle a laugh feeling the niggling of his soulmate waking up, his eyes dart towards the clock, half past ten, and sure enough a resounding fuck sounds off his head and he has to cough to disguise a laugh.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Ollie scoffs in his head. “You needed sleep. Your exams are finally over, classes done, you’ve got your degree, no more crashing at three and waking at six.”

“Bear.” She whines.

“Care.” He whines back, nodding at Rene in agreement about the line for turn eight. He hears her huff but then it goes quiet and he refocuses on the data over the track.

“You’re working this weekend, right?” He makes a humming noise both in his head and out loud as he stretches, leaving the garage, happy to be done with looking at data. “Yeah. What are you doing this weekend?”

“I’m going to Silverstone.” He freezes and hopes she doesn’t pick up the odd combination of dread and joy he feels. “Silverstone.”

“Mhmm. Jay had tickets but Noah surprised them with a trip.”

“Italy right?”

“Yep, so Jay gave me his tickets, told me to get out of the flat, so I’m getting out.” He smiles at the way she says it. “Good, you deserve it.”

“Are you going to everything?” He asks later, cozy in his hotel room he got for the weekend. Not wanting to travel to and from the track and his parent’s house. “Everything?” The question is absentminded and he can picture her focusing on dinner, with narrowed eyes and a pout on her face. It makes him ache, like it always does when he pictures her, but it’s not actually her he’s seeing. “Silverstone. Are you going to the practices and stuff? The things for F2 and F3?” He waits with bated breath for her answer. “I was planning on it.” Her voice is quiet. “I know you're really into it, so I figured I’d take advantage, see it in person when I can.”

“I’m gonna be there.” He blurts out. “What?” Her voice is shaky. “I’m gonna be there at Silverstone, tomorrow.” He tries to say that he’s a driver, but the bond blocks it, like it does for anything personal or revealing. It makes him want to bash his head against a wall. What was the point in blocking him telling her that when she would just find out tomorrow?

“Meet me tomorrow?” Her voice is a little desperate. “I mean, I just.” He cuts her off. “Of course, I’ll meet you.”

The next morning, as he sits in a café, his leg bounces as he looks at the door. She was going to be wearing red, for Ferrari she had teased, knowing that he loved the team, just not how much. She was average height and the next part had come out shyly, would have a tote with carebears on it.

He nearly groans when someone enters and it’s not her and he forces himself to take a deep breath, making his eyes wander around the interior of the café. He had been here twice before with Jak, when he didn’t have duties in Maranello but Jak was needed at Milton Keynes.

It was weird being around Milton Keynes but not with Jak. But he wasn’t about to meet her closer to the track or in Brackley. He shudders at the idea of being near Mercedes’ hub.

The sound of the door opening as his eyes immediately back to looking and the person standing there makes him lose his breath.

Because she was wearing red, Ferrari red, she had a carebear tote, she most certainly wasn’t average height, but she was fucking gorgeous and the thought, the image of her translates through the bond and he watches as her eyes widen before she looks over at where he’s sitting.

“Bear?” She asks, voice quiet, considerate of the other people inside the café. He slowly stands, a nervous grin stretching across his face. “Hi, Care.” Before he knows what's happening, she’s bounding over, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in his chest. The movement stuns him but he quickly returns her embrace, pressing his face into her hair as his eyes close, taking in this, taking in her, taking in his soulmate.

“I want to stay here forever.” He flushes at her thought, but echoes it. Now that he had met her and was holding her, he never wanted to let her go. “Y’know.” He murmurs after a moment, trying to distract himself from kissing her, from kissing her for the first time in public, of all places. “You said you were average height.” “I am average height.” She frowns, pulling back slightly and tilting her head to look up at him. “You're just a giant.” He laughs, “you barely come up to my shoulders, love. I’m tall but I’m not that tall.” She pouts up at him and he swallows thickly, wanting to take that bottom lip in between his.

He’s jerked out of his thoughts by his phone ringing and he moves one of his hands from her to grab his phone, quickly answering it. “Ollie.” He says and watches as she mouths the name, turning red as he realizes that he still hasn’t told her his name. “Y’know that practice starts in an hour and half, right?” He flinches, pulling his phone back to look at the time, and curses. “I’m like thirty minutes away, I’ll be there.” Jak chuckles. “Uh huh. I’ve got you covered, just wanted to let you know since someone is going to try and make a stink of it.” A scowl crosses his face briefly but then he sees her looking at him concerned and he smiles. “I’ll be there.” He promises again, before hanging up.

“Everything okay?” “Yeah.” He nods. “It’s just, uh, free practice starts in the next hour and half and I kind of need to be there?” “You need to be there?” Confusion is clear on her face. “I uh, I’m a F2 driver for one of the teams.” “And you're here? Ollie!” He laughs and tightens his one-handed grip on her as she tries to push away from him. “It’s practice for a track I’ve driven before. I needed to meet my soulmate, it’s a bit important.” She stares at him in disbelief, shaking her head, before she takes a breath and smiles at him. “You are absolutely crazy.” His smile widens at that. “Now, let's get to your free practice, I’d like everyone you work with to like me. And my name is Y/N.” She finishes, feeling him start to ask inside their heads and out loud. He mouths her name as well, liking the feel of it, before he nods. “Alright, let's get to free practice.”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[acescavern]

SAN, WHERE ARE YOU? — CHOI SAN X FEM! READER

Paring: San x Fem!Reader

Genre: Pure smut. No plot whatsoever. There is a sprinkling of fluff if you squint?

wc: 4,825

Synopsis: Your boyfriend invites you to the fancy dress party his frat is holding to celebrate the frats birthday. Only, nobody will tell you what he's dressed as. When you spend half of the party searching for him, Jongho gives away his location.. you're in for a night of fun. One question though, Do you like scary movies?

warnings: smut, smut,smut. Ghostface!San, Velma!reader. Rough sex, unprotected sex, Knife play ( WITHOUT cutting reader. The knife isn't sharp enough for skin), praise, degradation, manhandling, sex in a treehouse, reader's hands get tied, Reader has her view restricted, everything is consented, established relationship, light choking from behind?, reader gets carpet burn. I'm not sure if I've missed something.

note: Hey! it's been a long while. oops. anyway. here, enjoy this badly written San fic! please remember that this is all fiction. This is a little darker than what i've written previously but it's more my vibe ;)

Reblogs are kinder than likes, if you can. Likes can shadowban creators. Any feedback is welcome

You didn't know what you were thinking. For starters, your costume was tight and short. You were sure the Velma outfit looked different online, instead, the material was like a tight second skin that stretched across your chest and the skirt was much shorter than the picture. You were surely careful not to bend or move too much. Your long orange socks weren't meant to be thigh-highs at all. Overall, you'd come to the conclusion that the outfit was more on the verge of a more adult theme that would pass for a party.

You still looked good. In fact, your legs looked amazing in the platform heels Mingi's girlfriend persuaded you into. She claimed that if you'd already gone this far, you may as well go all out. What sold you on the whole outfit was her mentioning that San would go insane and you'd had a knack for winding each other up lately.

So, here you were, at the KQ Frat like every other Friday night. Only this time, it was a special party. The KQ Frat as a whole was turning 5 and they'd let their dearest Song Mingi choose the theme. Okay, maybe he was put on the spot and said 'uhhhm' a lot when he was asked but he eventually stumbled out with the theme of fancy dress.

You pushed the fake glasses up your nose, swearing to yourself at the realization that you could have used your own glasses for this instead of messing around for half an hour trying to put contacts in with shaky hands. You opted to just take them off all together, setting them down on a ledge in the hall. If you had your way, you'd be at home.

Honestly, since you moved in with San things have been a lot better for you both, other than his inability to do the laundry. However, tonight you'd gotten ready at a friend's house and with him being so secretive with his costume, you hadn't a clue what to look for.

The first person you came across was your boyfriend's best friend, Wooyoung. You stifled a laugh, raising your eyebrow at him. “A vampire?” Your fingers ruffled his black and red cape, the material cheap and wrinkled. Wooyoung only rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“It was rushed! San took my costume idea!” He snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Woo’s words came out in a slight lisp, the terrible plastic fangs moving around in his mouth so much that he just ripped them out.

What he said piqued your interest though, an overly friendly smile plastering on your face. “And..what were you going to be, Wooyoungie?” The raised eyebrow look the man gave you had you almost ashamed that you were trying to butter him up to tell you San’s costume. A girl had to do what a girl had to do.

“Don’t ‘Wooyoungie’ me!” His voice raised a pitch as he mocked you, his eyelids rapidly moving to fan his lashes in an imitation of you. “I’m not stupid, ____. San would never let me live it down if I ruined the surprise.”

That was true, Woo was already the brunt of most of the group's jokes. Though lately, they’d dwindled down in public. Anything to help save a crumb of his image in attempts to woo the library girl. You rolled your eyes and lightly whacked his arm, pushing past him with a grumbled goodbye.

The next familiar face you came across nearly took you off your feet, if only it weren't for the person behind you steadying your form. Spiderman and..Chucky? Something about the spiderman felt familiar and as your eyes lit up with hope… they soon dullened when the voice spoke. Yunho. Not San.

“Woah, careful there.” He patted the top of your head in a friendly gesture. Yunho was the most big brother friend you’d ever met and he was the one you went to for comfort whenever you and San fought. He offered the best advice sometimes. It wasn't surprising.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Chucky spoke, adjusting his cap. Except it wasn't Chucky really, it was just Hongjoong, shooting you an apologetic grin. “Have you seen my girl? She’s dressed as the bride of Chucky.” The obvious reveal that he succumbed to the couple's costume agenda had a light blush blossoming at the tips of his ears.

You shook your head, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "Sorry, Joong. Have you seen San?" His reply was the same as yours.

So, you kept moving, pushing through the sweaty bodies grinding together in time with the heavy thudding of music. Eventually, you managed to push through to the kitchen. Huffing out a breath, you leant against the counter. Where was San? There were so many people here, it was more packed than last year especially with the frat's growing reputation. You glanced around the space from the doorway of the kitchen once more, spotting Yeosang, dressed as Link from the zelda games, talking very animatedly with Seonghwa, who you weren't sure of his character but he looked striking in a white ruffled blouse and half corset. You suspected he was some kind of vampire, judging by the vibe.

“You’re looking for San, I take it.” A casual voice piped up from behind you, startling you to whirl around. There stood Jongho, his face half covered by a cut off white mask. He wore a suit, without the jacket. Instead, a long cape with hand painted gold swirls on the inside. He had obviously done it himself. It was certainly the best effort of Phantom of The Opera you'd seen.

“You know where he is?” Desperation laced your tone, you just wanted to see your boyfriend at this point. San had been teasing you all day over text, telling you that you’d love his outfit. That you would go crazy. He told you that he chose it with you in mind.

Jongho gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes looking toward the back patio door. “Maybe, try looking out there.” Your shoulders relaxed, a grin overtaking your painted lips. You were about to set off in that direction when he held up a gloved hand. “You didn’t hear it from me, ____. Okay?”

With an endearing eye roll, you brought your fingers across your mouth in a zipping motion that earned you an approving nod. Now, you set off outside carefully, being mindful of the shoes you were wearing. They were practically stilts to you. Your fingers held down the ends of your skirt, worried it might blow up in the breeze. Even though ninety percent of the party goers were indoors out of the cold. Speaking of cold, goosebumps rose against your exposed skin as you squinted through the darkness.

“San?” You called, rounding the pool to the concrete slabs that paved the way to the tree at the bottom of the yard. “Sannie?”

You hated it down here. The frat house was a huge place. You often wondered how on earth the guys managed to score it. But with eighteen people living there, it was much needed. The thing was, with the big house came the big garden. The bottom of the garden, whilst still kept mowed, was mostly unused. Save for a few sheds.. But it was creepy and always sent a chill up your spine. Though that could be the cemetery on the other side of the fence. All in all, with the massive house the guys were sure was haunted and the cemetery backing onto the place.. It was just spooky all around.

You stood for a moment, a shiver running down your spine as a whisper of wind rushed by your ear. “San, come on.. this isn’t funny..” Silence. “I’m cold..” A rustle sounded to your left, your head snapping in that direction.

You began to tentatively approach, trying to make sure your heels don’t sink into the grass. You bit back a scream at the sudden animal sprinting out from behind the shrubbery, your palm pressed against your heart as it pounded in your chest. Your breath left you as a sharp exhale of relief. You chuckled at yourself, shaking your head as you turned.. Though you didn’t get far.

You turned straight into a broad, hard chest. A small scream left you, the masked man's hands reaching out to grip your hips. The figure was wearing a ghostface mask, something sheathed in his belt glinting in the moonlight. Although, the familiarity in the way his strong hand splayed on your body as he held you, you knew it was him.

San’s Ghostface robe was open, revealing his black jeans and a shirt that stretched across his torso. Your eyes once more caught the glint at his waist. “A real knife? San, are you craz-” He said nothing, only span you around with your back to his chest. One of his hands drifted up your body to cover your mouth, it was then that you noticed the leather gloves as you felt them against your skin.

“You look like a treat, ____.” He hushed in your ear, the plastic of his mask bumping against the side of your face with how close his head was to you. “Now, Velma, you think you can climb that ladder?” he pointed a gloved hand to the tree, the stepped ladder made up of wooden slats fixed together. At least it was sturdy.

You nodded mutedly against his hand, resisting the urge to turn to face him when he let you go completely with a part pat to your behind. “Good girl.” His voice was smooth to the ear, “Off you go.” With a nudge to the small of your back, he urged you on.

It was a slight struggle to climb the ladder with the way you were dressed, but San was close behind you. When you made it to the doorway of the treehouse, you waited for him as you stood on the ladder. San slotted his feet either side of yours on the same ladder rung, his body caging you against it as he produced the keys for the door. The tree house was in regular use by the frat, mostly so the house didn’t smell of weed whenever the landlord decided to randomly drop by for house inspections.

The treehouse itself was very sturdily built, with an old bedroom door that was previously Mingi’s and the hole in the middle fixed over with planks of wood screwed in place. The floor was covered in carpet that used to be in Hongjoong’s room. A few beanbags dotted around the place and for lighting there were battery operated fairy lights strung around the square perimeter. It was a cute little hangout that San had quite literally banished everybody from for tonight.

With the door now open, you were about to climb in when San’s hands landed on your waist again. His strong grip practically hauled you up and into the treehouse. With a noise of surprise, you landed on your stomach, scrambling up on your hands and knees to crawl to one of the beanbags. The door shut behind you, you noted San didn’t bother to lock it.

San was silent. You almost wondered if he even came here with you but when his leather clad fingers curled around your ankle and a low chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. “Where are you going, Baby?” His voice was a mocking coo as he pulled you toward him, your body dragging across the carpet causing your skirt to drift up to your waist. “Didn’t you miss me?” His voice sounded close to your ear again now and you felt his presence close to your back but he wasn’t actually touching you.

“Sa-” He interrupted you, his voice completely dropping his act to murmur to you softly. “Do you trust me?” He stayed poised above you, his body weight on his arms so he’s not touching you.

You twisted underneath him, rolling onto your back to stare up at him. Although, you only saw his mask. Your hands reached out, fingers delicately lifting his mask up for you to see his eyes. His lips quirked at the corners when you cupped his cheeks. “I trust you with my life, Sannie.” You arched your neck up your lips pressing the lightest of kisses to his jaw. “You’re doing good. We spoke about this, remember?” Your thumbs grazed small circles on the apples of his cheeks, San’s brown eyes closing as he leaned into your touch.

It was true. You both had spoken about this forever ago, You’d established the limits and words to use if either of you were uncomfortable. The only thing you both hadn’t settled on was when. You both agreed to keep that a surprise and to San, today was perfect. So, with a sure nod, he lightly battered your hands away from his face to pull the mask back down and sink back into character.

You instead began to let your hands wander over his back, the muscles prominent from holding himself up. When they drifted down to his behind, the intent to give him a playful squeeze, your hands froze. San grinned behind the mask, seeing your eyes light up in surprise. He could see the excitement swimming in them and he knew you’d just encountered the feel of the rope tucked into his back pocket beneath the robe. Perfect opportunity. Your boyfriend rose himself to his knees, his right hand disappearing beneath the black material to pull the soft rope from his pocket. It wasn’t too heavy duty. Actually… it was just the craft string that was tied around his christmas present from you.

San was quick and efficient with the way he pinned your hands to the carpet above your head. He paused, his eyes darting around to search for something to fix them to. His gaze landed on the small table next to one of the beanbags, a grin overtaking his features behind the mask once more. Instead of dragging your body across the carpet again, San pulled the table closer threading the twine string around the leg before fastening both of your wrists against it.

You watched him obediently, pretending to struggle at least a little bit. It added to the excitement after all. San let his eyes properly travel over your body and your outfit in the soft glow of the fairy lights. You couldn’t see his facial reactions but it excited you all the more. The adrenaline of the situation had you panting in anticipation. You felt his fingers brush over your ankle once more, ghosting up, up, up… his hand now cupping over your thigh, leathered index finger brushing the edge of your panties. He was taking his sweet time but his other hand was hovering over the handle of the knife at his waistband. Not yet.

The first thing to go was your tight orange shirt. It was roughly pulled over your head just to expose your torso. With your hands tied there was no way to fully remove it but San liked the way it restricted your arms above your head even further.

“Hm,” he made a sound in the back of his throat. “I think we’ll keep this, what do you think?” Even though he had asked you.. his tone suggested there was no room for negotiation, his fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt just once.

You felt him push the material higher to pool at your waist once more. San’s touch was feather light, teasing as he circled it around your navel and down to your waistline. Now was when his free hand curled around the handle of the knife in his belt. Your breathing hitched, body completely still as you felt the cold metal against your collarbone. Your eyes were staring at the ceiling, lips parted. A sound caught in your throat as he dragged it down your body, you could feel that the blade was dull and not sharp enough to actually cut your skin… it was either that or San was pressing very lightly.

“Shh,” He hushed, letting the point of the blade drag across your hardened nipple over the sheer fabric of your bra. “I’ve got you, now.” The point broke through the fabric, San lifting it away from you to slice your bra cup straight through the middle.

His face appeared in your vision and you could only imagine him looking absolutely elated with how glassy your eyes looked. He tutted, “You’ve seen enough, I think.” He set the knife on your sternum as he pulled your shirt down your arms enough to cover the top half of your head, blanking out your vision.

Your body squirmed between his thighs, small sounds of struggle leaving your parted lips. “San, I wanna see you.” You whined, wrists twisting in their binds before you'd remembered they were currently immobile.

“Keep still.” San warned, his tone was far from the soft and loving boyfriend you usually encountered. San was rarely dominant in bed with you, he preferred to lovingly worship your body and praise you with sweet nothings.

This was pleasantly different. His touch was firmer, his grip harsher and his demands had arousal shooting straight through your body. Like the good girlfriend you were, you stilled. San lifted the Ghostface mask up to uncover his mouth, not that you could even see.

Your body flinched in surprise when you felt cool air blow across your exposed nipple. San could only nod to himself in satisfaction. He loved the reactions he could draw from your body without even touching you. He lowered his mouth further, plush lips enveloping the peaked flesh into his warm mouth.

Your hands clenched into fists, longing to dive themselves into his hair. You were totally restricted, completely at San's mercy. The thought alone had a soft moan drifting into the silence. You felt his touch leave you again, the knife's weight leaving your sternum. You felt the material of your bra pull away from you in the middle, the sound of tearing fabric mixing with your breathing.

Your bra was now loose, the cups falling completely to the sides to expose you further. “Hey.” You protested weakly. That bra was expensive.

San could only laugh softly as he dropped a kiss between your breasts. “She finally talks.” He drawled, the feeling of the cold blade starting back at your collarbone once more.

The sharpness of the thin coldness trailed down your middle, a circle made around your belly button before it lifted from your exposed skin only briefly. You felt it again on your waistline, right where your panties sat. San made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat, flattening the blade to firmly tap it against your clothed center.

The feeling had you mewling beneath him, struggling to stay still. The panties were the next thing to go, San pulling the torn fabric from under you after he had successfully cut it away from your body only to drop the arousal coated garment on your chest.

“Please..” Your beg came as a desperate cry, you needed some sort of relief. The wait was killing you.

You were rewarded with San shushing you yet again. “If you're looking for any mercy here, ____, you're out of luck.”

San's left hand pinned your hips down, his other manning the knife. The knife where he had used the flat of the blade to press it to your, now bare, core. You knew you were wet, you could feel it. Hell, you could hear it when the metal was tapped against you again. Your moan raised a pitch, the hand holding your hips moving and allowing your hips to rock dangerously against the flat of the knife.

“I wish you could see yourself, baby.” San's voice deepened, sounding huskier as he watched you. “My girl. So needy to get off, you're rubbing yourself on a kitchen knife.” He tutted. “Pathetic, don't you think?”

You could think of a single coherent thought. Gasps drawing from you as all you could do was nod and cry out when the surface your hips were working against was removed.

You were sure you would remember this night forever… The thrill rushing through your veins. You thought San had gotten up. You thought he left you there for a moment until his fingers dug into your cheeks, palm holding your jaw tight. He squeezed, forcing your mouth to open. “Tongue.”

It was a one-word demand and yet you knew the instruction, your mouth opening wide to poke out your flattened tongue. San's harsh breathing was heard as he very carefully let the knife rest on the pink muscle. More specifically, the side he coated with yourself. You whined once more.

“Clean it.” San encouraged, watching with interest as you followed his every command and collected your own taste. He was so hard it was painful but he wanted to drag this night out… He thought his decision over, curious, lust blown eyes taking in the sight of you.

You, with your skirt bunched at your waist. You, with your orange thigh high socks, your ridiculous shoes, your arms trussed up above your head, your shirt covering half of your face, your ruined bra exposing your chest, your chest where your ripped panties lie. You, with your trust in him to carry out such fantasies. San was done waiting. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

The loud clang of an object being thrown away was harsh to your ears, the object thudding against the carpet. San had thrown the knife far away from you both, his fingers frantically fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper. “I'm done fucking waiting.” He panted sharply, shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to let his cock free.

You wished you could see him, you wished you could see how red the swollen tip of his cock was. You wished you could watch the thick vein along his shaft throb before your eyes… the bead of precum smeared across the head. The image had a zing of pleasure pulsing through your clit.

“San, please.” You begged, “Please. I've been good, right?” You hadn't a clue what you were babbling. Your words tumbled out of your mouth quickly before your brain could filter.

San groaned, “Yes, Baby.” You felt him brush against your entrance. “You have.” In one sharp snap forward of his hips, San sheathed himself into your warm, wet pussy. “F-Fuck..” His grip was back on your body again, maneuvering your legs back by your thighs as he gave you time to adjust to the sheer stretch his cock gave you.

San's big palms spread over the backs of your thighs, opting to just gather your ankles in one hand to push your legs back against your torso. You felt the burn of your thigh muscles at your body being bent this way but your main focus was still trying to relax your tight grip around his cock.

“Relax for me.” San murmured, his free hand settling on your pubic area.. you wondered what the purpose of the hand placement was until his leather-gloved thumb made contact with your clit.

San stayed perfectly still as his thumb moved in slow circles, your body eventually relaxing to the pleasure coursing through you. Your chest rose and fell harshly the faster his thumb moved. San watched you through the mask intently, how your facial features slackened. Small moans of his name bounced off the wooden walls of the treehouse, the fairy lights casting a beautiful glow across your skin that San could look at forever.

San knew you were getting close, he knew your body. He knew that when your teeth sunk into your bottom lip it meant you were on the edge of an orgasm and for a moment he felt bad to rip your peak right away from you by stopping his thumb.

“No, no! San, that's not fair!” Your eyes fluttered harshly to adjust as he lifted the shirt from your eyes. Your legs were let go, dropping each side of his body.

San's fingers skillfully untied the knots of your binds, rubbing at the marks on your wrists for a mere moment. He pulled completely from you, your expression frowning in confusion.

“What are yo–” You were roughly rolled onto your stomach, your body manhandled so you were on your knees and your naked torso was flush to the carpet. “Fuck!” Your curse abruptly escaped you as he entered you once more without warning, San's pelvis flush to your behind.

Your fingers grip on the carpet was torn away when San gathered your arms behind your back, wrists tethered together once more with the twine. “Stay fucking still.” He grunted, a harsh swat of his hand smacking your ass cheek eliciting a long moan from you.

He gave another swat to the other cheek. Matching red hand prints on display. Punishment for trying to lift your head. It didn't matter anymore, San fixed that problem by keeping a hand closed around the back of your neck, the side of your face roughly rubbing against the carpet with each hard thrust of his hips.

San fucked you like a man possessed, not a single break between thrusts. His belt jingled with his rapid movements. “See what you get when you do as you're told for once, hmm?” His voice was broken with his own noises of pleasure.

You weren't much better, your mouth permanently open with screams of his name and the word ‘yes’ repeating on loop. Your brain felt hazy, pleasantly so. You weren't even aware of your volume or even the patch of drool soaking the floor under your mouth. San had never fucked you like this before.

“You're so fucked out you haven't even noticed you're being fucked raw.” The pressure on your neck increased, a garbled noise from you being muffled by the floor.

You barely registered San's free hand fumbling around for something until the light of his phone screen was shoved in front of your face. The camera app. The idea had your thighs trembling. Your face had a far away look to it, one you hardly recognized as yourself. You watched pliantly as San propped the device against the table leg that your hands were previously tied to before hitting the capture a few times.

San could feel you shaking against him, his hips stuttering a moment when you clenched around him. The arm that wasn't holding you down snaked around you, his fingers finding your clit to rub fast, tight circles.

He'd never heard you scream so loud when the orgasm wracked through your body. Toes curling in your heels, nails digging into your palms. The feeling slammed into you abruptly, rippling through your pussy. Anyone outside would think you were being murdered.

San tore the mask off his face, his head tipping back on a long guttural moan. You knew he'd just come inside you, you'd know what that sound meant anywhere. Even if you didn't feel the slow softening of his cock, or the excess come smear on your skin as his thrusts slowed to a stop.

The both of you were panting harshly. San gently patted your waist, letting go of your neck to work on untying your wrists again. “Wow.” You huffed, arms falling limply to the floor with exhaustion. The cool breeze felt nice against your heated, sweat sheened skin.

He hummed in light agreement, his palms coasting up and down your back and sides for a moment before he withdrew from you. San was quick to reach up to the small table for the box of tissues he had brought up here when he prepared the treehouse that morning.

Your boyfriend always prided himself with being gentle with your aftercare. San made sure to clean your abused pussy as best he could in that moment before he gathered your limp body in his arms. “My limbs don't work.” You mumbled, your head resting on his shoulder as San brought you both to one of the big bean bags. His touch was the most gentle it had been all evening, palms trying to rub some warmth and life back into your body.

“Mmh, That was definitely something..” San agreed, draping a blanket over you both.

The two of you sat there in the blissful afterglow for a while. Bodies tangled together, your head against San's shoulder and your fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck and San's own hands lovingly rubbing over your body to soothe you.

After a few minutes, your fingers stopped and San was sure you'd fallen asleep until–

“I have carpet burn on my cheek.”

©️acescavern, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted or translated and reposted. reblogs are accepted.

[katsu28]

through the lens

pairing: jamie tartt x reader 

summary: a richmond win, a trip to ola’s, and a camera is all it takes to find out how jamie tartt really feels about you

warnings: swearing ofc, reader is afc richmond's team photographer, 2.5k

a/n: humbly inviting begging anyone and everyone to drop ted lasso requests from this list or this one in my inbox <3 i write for jamie, roy, sam, dani, and isaac! now pls enjoy the result of my jamie tartt brainrot 

The atmosphere in the locker room was positively electric. 

AFC Richmond was fresh off their first win in a very long time, and everyone was beyond ecstatic, buzzing with residual adrenaline and pride on a game well played. All the players were in a huddle in the center of the room, jumping at each other with nothing but pure joy in their eyes. 

All you could do was try your best to capture the moment without getting in the way of the festivities, which you somehow managed by climbing up onto one of the benches in front of the lockers as you snapped picture after picture of the team getting their celebration on. Nobody really paid you any mind throughout, until you turned your camera on one Jamie Tartt, who was already looking right at you the second your viewfinder focused on him. 

He beamed, lifted his hand up in a small wave, and for a split second you thought he might’ve started to make his way over to you, but he was caught on the shoulder and redirected by an overjoyed Dani Rojas. You swiveled away from Jamie and towards where Colin and Isaac had started some sort of chant that you could barely make out over the ruckus. 

Focusing on them gave you the chance to let your heart rate settle back down after sharing that split second moment with Jamie. It was pathetic, really—pining over someone like him.

More of a silly little crush than anything, you knew it would never lead to anything because you’d rather a sinkhole open up in the middle of the road and swallow you up than tell Jamie that you liked him. But that didn’t stop your feelings for him from growing. He’d come back to AFC Richmond someone different—sweet and empathetic and the biggest supporter of his fellow Greyhounds—which made it that much harder to keep your crush under wraps. 

Hell, Keeley had figured it out within weeks of his return and accidentally let it slip to Roy. He’d very gruffly assured you that he hadn’t told a soul, but you were sure that the whole team knew about it by now. Everyone except Jamie. You’d never been so glad for his thick head. 

“Alright, I know y’all are excited about the win, I am too but listen up!” Coach Lasso’s voice cut through the commotion, hands waving over his head to get his players’ attention. At the drop of a hat, every single one of them fell quiet, eagerly awaiting what their beloved coach had to say. 

You were looking forward to it too, not only because a Lasso signature speech was always a great opportunity to get raw, unfiltered photos of the team, but because he always had something positive to say, no matter what the outcome on the pitch had been. The amount of love and care Ted Lasso had for his players was his strong suit, and it showed in everyone’s respect for him. 

“I’m real proud of what all y’all did out there on the pitch tonight. I know I say that after every match and I mean it every time, but this one is just a little bit sweeter. I appreciate every single one of you boys more than you could imagine,” He continued, looking to address each person. They looked like kids again, giddy with glee as they soaked in their coach’s praise. 

You took shot after shot of everyone in the moment, so enveloped in your craft that you didn’t notice someone had come to stand beside you until you let your camera hang. That was when you noticed Jamie, inching closer with an innocent look on his face until he saw you looking down at him. 

“Hiya,” He said, playfully nudging your leg with a cheeky smile. “Gettin’ a good view up there?” 

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your coach?” You shot back, fighting the urge to pick your camera back up and take a shot of his lopsided grin and stupidly endearing twinkle in his eye as he looked up at you. 

“Nothin’ I haven’t heard before.” Jamie shrugged, but he turned back around to look at Ted.

Even though he wasn’t paying attention to you, it was hard not to pay attention to him. That was a problem you’d increasingly been running into, not being able to focus when Jamie was around. You thought you’d had it under wraps, but it seemed like you’d developed a sixth sense for whenever he wandered into your vicinity. And lately, that sense had been pinging a lot more than usual. 

Maybe you were reading too much into things, but it seemed like Jamie had been popping up everywhere you went in the facility. Granted, it was mainly the pitch and the locker room hallways, but it flustered you all the same. One brief conversation about even something mundane like weekend plans or the weather paired with a smile and a cheeky wink before he disappeared around a corner and you were left wondering what you’d been doing in the first place. 

Ted was closing out his speech by the time you’d remembered you were actually supposed to be doing your job right now. You jerked out of your thoughts, snapping a few photos of the coaching staff before he finished up for the night. “Now go ahead and let loose, golden goose!” 

“I’m pretty sure it is geese, Coach,” Sam chimed in, giving him a good natured smile.

“You know what I mean! Go have some fun, celebrate, all that jazz. But not too much fun because I expect to be seein’ y’all bright and early tomorrow morning for practice. Remember, the early bird gets the worm! See, I know I did that one right.” With that, Ted waved the team off, retreating back into the coaches’ office with Coach Beard on his heels and leaving them with all their pent up energy. 

“Sam says we’re all going to Ola’s to celebrate!” Bumbercatch exclaimed, drawing a roar of approval from the rest of the team. 

“You comin’ with us?” Jamie asked you hopefully, tilting his head to the side a bit. Warmth bloomed on your cheeks at the prospect of him wanting you to tag along. “Catch the festivities, give the people what they want?” 

Oh. He was asking because you were their photographer. Not for the other foolishly hopeful reason you were thinking of. Of course. 

“Yeah, I’ll tag along. Gotta catch you boys in your natural habitat, don’t I?” 

Jamie’s mouth lifted into a cool smirk. “‘Course you do. You can catch a ride with me, if you want.” 

“Oh! Um, only if it’s not too much trouble.” You could only hope you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

He nodded, extending a hand up towards you to help you down from your perch. You accepted it maybe a bit too eagerly, because your step down from the bench put you a little closer to Jamie than you’d planned, barely a few inches between the two of you. You swore you almost stopped breathing when his chest brushed against yours as he inhaled a sharp breath. You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and it almost looked like he was as stunned as you. 

You both mumbled an apology, words tumbling over each other messily as you stepped apart. His hand flew up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Yours went straight for your camera, busying yourself with a few random buttons as if it were a defense mechanism. Neither of you could look at the other for a good while, not until you got into Jamie’s car and were on the way to Ola’s to meet the rest of the team. 

“So. What’d you think of the game?” 

“S’good! You did great, Jamie,” You exclaimed, excited now. It was true, Jamie had been on fire tonight with a goal and two assists. “All of you did great.” 

“Should I pose for ya next time? Give ya a proper action shot?“ He sounded only half joking. “M’trusting you to make me look good, y’know!” 

“Posing is overrated. I like the shots I get when you lot get out there on the pitch. They’re natural.” 

“But what if I make a stupid face when I pass the ball? Those can’t be any good.” 

“They’re called candids, and I happen to think they look better than your promotional shots.” 

“Bullshit! I looked sexy in those shots and you know it.” 

While he wasn’t wrong, you had a point to prove now. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three in your head before picking your camera back up, swiveling in your seat and snapping one, two, three pictures of him. 

Jamie’s brow furrowed at the shutter clicks, giving you a confused glance over in your direction. “Oi! What’s that for?”

“That’s a candid.” You said simply, ignoring your heart pounding a million miles a minute against your ribcage. You flicked through the photos, pleased to see that they’d come out just as you suspected—perfect. 

“Not even getting my good angle, some photographer you are,” He muttered, giving his head an overexaggerated shake. 

“All your angles are good, Jamie,” You scoffed. “And you don’t need me to make you look good, ‘cause you’re doing it just fine on your own.” You didn’t realize what you’d said until a beat later when he looked extremely delighted, but every part of what you said was true. 

Even caught off guard and driving, Jamie Tartt looked unfairly good. The lights off the dashboard washed over his handsome face in a warm light, making him look softer than the harsh lights of Nelson Road did. 

On the football pitch, he was tough and cocky, mouthing off to opposing team with the sole purpose of getting under their skin, and the lighting reflected that. He was Jamie Tartt, a striker with a right foot kissed by God, one of the greatest footballers in Richmond history. In this car, here with just the two of you, he was at ease. His guard was down, his facade gone. He was just Jamie Tartt, a boy from Manchester. That was the Jamie you’d grown some not-so-small feelings for. 

Ola’s was definitely quieter than any pub in Richmond would’ve been, though you suspected that the team rather enjoyed it this way. They loved and appreciated their fans, but it was nice to be surrounded by friends as opposed to being gawked at the whole night. Even so, someone had turned on music with a heavy beat that thumped through the restaurant and everyone was having a good time. 

It was the perfect opportunity to grab a few more quick shots of the team and you took it gratefully, milling around the place for a bit snapping pictures here and there before coming back to your seat to flick through everything. You had to see what you could give the PR team to put on Richmond’s socials. 

A pint of beer slid in front of you drew you away from your camera, but it was mostly the smiling Jamie who’d slid into the chair next to you. He leaned in a little closer to be heard over the chatter of the restaurant, bracing his arm on the back of your chair. 

“D’you ever stop working?” 

“Meaning?” 

“Nothin’ bad! I just mean…every time I see ya you’re nose deep in that camera, barely get t’see your face.” 

“The point of my job is to see your face, not mine,” You joked, growing more nervous at the way he was looking at you, like he meant he actually wanted to see your face more instead. Jamie’s expression softened into something fond, knee bumping against yours gently, fingers brushing against your shoulder. His touch sent a feeling not unlike static shock through you, racing through your veins and sending your heart thundering loudly in your ears. 

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you and leaning closer still, so close you could see a smudge of dirt from the pitch on his neck that he’d missed, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes. 

“S’shame. Got a face too pretty to be behind the lens all the time. Prettier than mine, even.” 

“Stop it,” You mumbled, but there was no real force behind your words. Jamie thought you were pretty. It made you feel giddy inside. 

“No, you stop it. You’re stunnin’.” He insisted, looking entirely sincere. 

“You’re just saying that.” 

“M’not. I mean it.” Jamie shook his head vehemently. You pressed your lips together, denying it still. “You don’t believe me. Here,” He was quick to grab your camera off the table carefully, leaning back a bit and hitting the shutter button determinedly. You’d barely managed to stretch an arm over your face before the flash went off. He squinted at the tiny screen, studying it for a few seconds before smiling proudly. 

“Think I finally know what’s so good about those candids you keep talkin’ about. That one’s a keeper.” He was firm in his words, turning the camera around to show you the picture he’d taken. Part of your face was obscured by your outstretched hand, but you could see most of your smile and a gleam in your eyes that you didn’t know you had until this very moment. You liked it. 

“D’you wanna go on a date with me sometime?” He asked hopefully, fiddling with the edges of his shirtsleeves. Warmth flooded your cheeks in an instant. “A proper one, where I can come by yours and ring your doorbell and give you flowers and all that shit.”

“Someone give Lust Conquers All a ring, ‘cause Jamie Tartt is a changed man!” You shouldn’t have been cracking jokes right now. It definitely wasn’t the time, but you couldn’t help yourself. It escaped before you could take it back. 

But Jamie just rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, alright, have a laugh. You didn’t say yes.” 

“I also didn’t say no.” You pointed out, scooting a few inches closer to him. He returned the gesture, sliding towards you until your knees pressed together. You were inches away from each other, again, but this time it was different. This time, you knew how he felt about you.

“That’s still not a yes.” He said softly, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it had you not been as close to him as you were right now. 

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and his eyes fluttered shut. “How’s that for a yes?” 

“S’good. Missed the mark though. Should be more like…” He trailed off, sneaking a quick peck to your lips before grinning sheepishly. “That.” 

“Sneaky boy.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was anything but annoyed. “Good thing you’re cute.” 

He preened at your compliment, giving a little self satisfied smile. “And a good photographer?” 

“Decent. If football doesn’t pan out, maybe I could make you my assistant.” 

“That mean I get to spend all day with you?”

“If you can handle it.” 

Jamie’s lips quirked up into a soft smile and he kissed you again, a little longer this time. His hand moved up your shoulder around the back of your neck tenderly, a blooming warmth against your skin. “I’ll manage.” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[wonbin-truther]

˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ ╰┈➤ friends dont kiss

you swung your legs back and forth on the bench and hugged jaemin's sweater closer to your body. you sighed as you pressed the screen of your phone. the time 7:30 glowed from in front of the picture of you and your friends. your pride kept you from texting the canadian male to ask where he was so you waited. you waited until 8:00 showed on your phone and your patience started wearing thin.

"hey," a deep voice spoke up. you looked toward mark lee who was walking towards you. you stood up, stuffing your hands into the pockets of the sweater. mark was in pj pants and a grey hoodie. if you squinted closely there was a purple mark tucked underneath the neckline but you paid no mind to it. it was currently the least of your worries as the man in front of you spoke up, "what did you want to talk about?"

"you're late," your tone was flat. you stared into his eyes and he stared back for a bit before breaking eye contact. "sorry" he refused to meet your eyes. you let out a laugh, "sorry? that's all you have? i knew this was a bad idea. im just wasting my time just like you've been doing for months."

mark scoffed, eyebrows furrowed, "if i remember correctly you wanted to meet to talk." "if i remember correctly you were the one who said 7:00. yet now its 8:15 and here we are," you had to push back the tears that were about to fall. you swallowed hard, "im over this mark. im done."

"done with what?"

"all this," you began, "what even were we?"

"friends."

the word stung every part of you. you felt it come out of marks mouth and enter you, just for it to get stuck in the pit of your stomach.

"friends?," another laugh came out of you, this time sadder then before. "just friends? really?" mark nodded, "friends. that's it. what else would we be?" "well last time i checked friends dont kiss," your voice was harsh. it took mark back a bit. you were always pretty soft spoken around him. he had never heard you angry, other than the times you spoke to him about somi. he remained quiet, giving you the room to continue. "and after everything. somi? really? after everything i told you?," tears started to slip down your cheeks and mark wanted nothing but to reach out and wipe them, but he knew that was no longer his place. so he kept his hands glued to the pocket of his hoodie and watched as you wiped them away yourself.

"what did i do to deserve this? did i do something to wrong you? why somi?" you choked out. mark stayed quiet. "say something. please," you shouted through your tears.

"she isnt that bad."

you rolled your eyes, "fuck you. seriously. that's what you have to tell me? she isnt that bad?" "maybe if you gave her a ch-" you cut him off before he could end his sentence. "shes my cousin, mark. my cousin who bullied me and blamed my moms death on me. or did you forget that?" mark kept his gaze low, kicking the rocks under his feet. "you know what, have fun with her. the two of you deserve each other. dont fucking talk to me ever again, asshole."

"wait yn. im-," mark tried but it fell upon deaf ears as you turned away from him and started walking in the direction of your dorm.

mark stood in the same spot for a few minutes after you left processing what he just did. maybe he had taken it too far with somi; but the devil on his shoulder spoke much louder in his ear as it told him that you were the one who started this. maybe somi had pushed him too far, he was fighting with his friends and now he had effectively lost you, but all the voice told him was that they don't support him. he stayed with his thoughts before turning and making his own way back home.

"hey howd it go?" jaemin asked as you pushed open the door. a frown quickly showed on his face as he saw your puffy eyes and wet tears still on your flushed cheeks. you shook your head as sobs wracked your body. jaemin was quick to rush to your side, taking you into his arms and letting you sob into his chest. his hand found its way to your hair, running his fingers through it. "princess?" jaemin pulled away as you began to calm down. you hummed in response, looking up at him. "you okay?" he cupped your cheeks and a small smile formed on your face. "yea im good."

mark pushed open the door to his empty dorm. he flipped on the lights and stared at the messy room. hyuck was god knows where and somi .... he finally checked his phone for any notifications fron the blonde girl. nothing. maybe mark did fuck up.

previous - main - next

synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

tags! (closed) @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @yumjsss @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @dojaejunging @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @candied-czennie @haesungie @tommina @woonagi-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @soheendo @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr @morkiee @sehunniepot @starfilledgaze @100203shong @pickmedolls @xcosmi @nneteyamss @slayhaechan

[stormblessed95]

Watching Are You Sure?! EP 2

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally as a happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

July 15th now! Day 2 here we come! Over an hour of Jikookery!!

Starts off with JK on his motorcycle and Jimin riding witht the crew and admiring how cute JK is, while they are on the phone the entire time. Adorable. "He likes being cool." Lmao

I love how the staff indulge them too, like with Jimins "prank" of spraying washer fluid at JK 😂

Jimin lagging super far behind everyone in the hike at first saying it's because he thinks is nice to go slow now that he is older.... But also honey, are you sure (lol) that's not just your upset tummy talking? 😅😂

JK asking Jimin for a cover of Seven. I know they were mostly joking.... But um, Jimin.... Where is our cover?!?! Please!!

Jimin showing off his beautiful smooth legs 😂😂

Jimin being bit by mosquitoes constantly and JK deciding to take a turn into vampirism and vore 😂🤣 as well as calling Jimins thighs the best entree? 😏🫣 Lol OKAY

You just gave me butterflies holding onto my back like that?? Lmfao has he said that EVERYTIME he drags Jimin around holding onto the back of his shirt?? 🤣😂🥰😍 Butterflies like love, JK?

Turns out, he said making my heart flutter. I think that makes it worse. And the informal/formal flirty tones. Yup. Definitely worse 😅😍🫣😂 and it absolutely usually has romantic connotations. Both in English and in Korean

Someone get Jimin a dang bottle of bug spray!! The heck!

The way they both felt so free and peaceful on the ocean that they fell asleep for a nap together. Jimin sleeping for much longer since he wasn't feeling good though too. Also brief mention for the way JKs hands kept straying over to rub on Jimins smooth legs and kept getting cut in the video lol

JK telling Jimin he looked so pretty when he first got to NY and now our poor baby is so tired and sick

JK preforming Seven for Jimin. Lol let's NOT talk about how he sings the "I kiss your waist and ease your mind" line while staring into Jimins eyes. Or how he turns back to look at Jimin while singing "you wrap around me and you give me life" before playfully swatting him too. Just for Jimin to end things there by playfully wrestling back 😂

Jikooks Titanic 😂😂🥰🥰😍😍

JK exploring and touching all over Jimin's body looking for mosquito bites.... Lmfao ALRIGHT. "You are obviously looking for bite marks" why is this so flirty? Why are they doing this with all their staff right in front of them STARING AT THEM with the cameras too 😂🤣😂 I guess at some point you get so used to it, you start tuning them out. And Jikook are, for the most part, 10+ years used to it. And all that play wrestling comes to an end when Jimin's upset stomach and toilet issues come back to remind him that they exist 🤣🤣 (see first picture at the top of post lmfao)

Thinking of things to name the show and among the many suggestions JK makes, "come out" is one. That would've been an interesting title lol

JK sharing a whole bag of food with the staff on the other boat. He is such a sweetie

Jiminie somehow ending up with JKs hat between cuts while eating

The way they spent almost all day on this boat man. And we got a montage of them just smiling at each other through the day 🥺🥺🥺

JK looking up their song stats and the way they both got so excited for how well their songs were doing on the charts 🥰🥰🥰 I'm so proud of them both!

And I love hearing JK talk about his goals with Golden. Same with Jimin about Face/Muse. I'm so so proud of them, it's unbelievable

The way everyone shops so different is why some people won't grocery shop with others 🤣🤣 the cuts between Jimin sighing frustratingly "Jungkook ah" and JK going "cheese cheese" had me CACKLING lmfao 😂😂 and it's all really because of what JK wanted to cook FOR Jimin for dinner 🥺

The parking lot dance break was adorable 😂🤣 their giggles are my favorite thing

The way that Jimin keeps taking cute little pictures of JK at their destinations. That's his baby

They rented a house with 4 entire bedrooms. Lmfao for what reason?! Jikook technically got separate rooms here.

Why do they take such MASSIVE bites when they eat? Lmfao is this engrained behavior from spending their formative years living with 6 other teenage/young adult boys? 🤣😂

"I'm just honored to have your food" JIMIN 😭😭😭

JK being very insistent about hearing Who. Lmao not Like Crazy or any of his songs that are out. But his new song. It's giving how sulky he was when he didn't hear Face songs first. Making sure he wouldn't get left out again! I loved this though! I really genuinely love listening to them talk music and singing techniques though. Loling though at the way JK told Jimin he should growl more in his vocals. Think his YouTube algorithm showed him any fan made comps about said Jimin vocal growls that always caused ARMY to lose their minds 🤣🤣

"should I sleep next to Jungkook tonight? Will he hit me again?" 🤣🤣🤣🤣 And JK already being in the room lol

Toothbrushing acrobatics. You know, the norm lmao followed by the huge cut too lmao what happened

The way they filmed JK tossing and turning in his bed for a bit and then absolutely zero filming in Jimins room after bedtime.... And in the morning, JK had to turn the camera outside Jimins room back on.... I'm not saying that JK didn't spend the entire night in his own bed and instead slept in Jimins... But I'm not, not saying that either 😂

(we are now in July 16th!)

JK joking about leaving Jimin behind since he is sleeping in so much, just to immediately go climb into bed with him. This is the most domestic type of morning waking up intimacy and cuddles. Because TF Jikook. Lol all that. And it was clearly a lot because of the amount of cuts in that short period of footage.... Where they were laying next to each other just sharing space, cuddling, being a little silly. And then randomly going like "oh we need to remember to get a sponge today." Lol domestic 101.

No because really, let's talk about that cuddle? TF Jungkook. First we got him coming up to crawl into Jimins bed where he like palms his bare thigh, straightens his leg out so he can rest against his bare (shaved/waxed) thigh. And he makes that growling/groaning sound he ALWAYS does when presented with a sexy Jimin or often when he touches Jimin's bare skin. Like CMON dude.

Followed by Jimin then being silly and pretending to go elbow JKs nose. Lol and JK clearly went to retaliate by simply wrapping him up in a hug to start spooning, but Jimin ready to defend himself so he kept blocking JK with his arm. Lmfao only to be quickly overpowered. Spanked, ass caressed, and then JK snuggles into him and basically disappears behind Jimins back he is snuggling so hard. And then spanked again when JK got up 😂 so much ass appreciation in this clip

Not to mention apparently it's being suspected that JKs mic was already in Jimins room and he just picked it up and pretended to unhook it from his shirt before climbing into Jimins bed... Who knows

Round 2 of Jikook walking around the house this time with Jimin hanging off the back of JKs shirt. This is really just the natural state for them huh. Lol

Riding to Walmart on the motorcycle together is the cutest and most amazing thing. JK reminding Jimin to be careful because the motorcycle is really hot underneath. 🥰

When JK accidentally steps on Jimins heel walking into the store... The way that Jimin pinches his neck in retaliation was crazzzyyy lol

Them meeting the ARMY in the store to buy the pizza is the cutest freaking thing. The whole interaction. And when JK goes in his sponge adventure, she got a hug and autograph from Jimin 🥺🥺🥰🥰 and how complimentary and excited they were about meeting her too!

Jimin being like those damn dongsaengs after losing JK in the store for the second time 😂😂😂

JKs water curse has to be one of the funniest unexpected recurring themes of these episodes lol "I don't think there has been a day where I didn't get wet." Lol poor Kookie

Jimin with his sleeve rolled up and that backwards hat transported me STRAIGHT back to 2014 😳😂

Rainy day fight pt 2 with the umbrella in a parking lot, followed by JK step it up dance in the rain edition 😂🤣

JK ordering for the table again 💜

Someone count the amount of times that Jimin fondly watched JK and said that he looks cute or cool, because it's been a lot lol

Jimin waiting patiently while his TikToker boyfriend bestie takes crazy cinematic videos of their food before ending on a close up of Jimins face 🤣😂 Beautiful honestly lol

They ended their trip with comments about being so happy and having such a good time. 🥰💜

And JK saying they should do at LEAST 12 seasons and travel together until they are like 50 😂🤣😂

Wrap up thoughts:

I am both not surprised by anything and yet also fully taken aback by their little morning routine in bed there that one day 😂 I've pretty much said all I can say on that though above.

Jikook both clearly have the exact same sense of humor, sarcastic and dry at times, stupid giggly at others. Again, nothing new information wise but something I'll always enjoy seeing. Boy do they bicker in the cutest freaking ways lol

That hyung/dongsaeng relationship, yeah that doesn't fucking exist for them at all. Lol yeah sure, they use the words.... Sometimes. But that is not their dynamic. Again, we been knew. But the constant consistency from them is always nice. Lol

There is zero filter and zero boundaries and yes, we knew that too. And while yes we technically should have known that all of BTS, having lived on top of each other for so many years, have absolutely seen each other at their absolute lowest. It's another thing to witness the zero filter about toileting troubles 😂 and how zero issue it was too. No embarrassment, no judgement, just taking care of him and jokes and having fun anyway.

Jikook are the definition of matching each other's freak. 100% lmfao

They LOVE taking care of each other. The cooking, the babying, the constant wanting to do something for the other, the musical praise and discussions.

I liked this episode even better than the first! This is my new favorite show, thanks Jikook!!

[babygorewhore]

Yes, sir.

Moving to the outer banks wasn’t planned but your grandmother needed as much help as she could get. What she didn’t mention was a hot guy named JJ worked for her. And he decides to take you. Even if you’re sleeping.

Moodboard

Idk what came over me. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for beta reading and always talking me out of quitting writing. This is kinda short but oh well. And also my first JJ fic EEEEEEEE. And yes, I changed the name.

Warnings! Dubcon! Fucking you awake! Slight spanking! Pussy slapping! Oral! Fem recieving. Choking! Tying hands! Unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Perv! JJ Dark! JJ Dom! JJ sub reader!

You knew moving to a new state would be hard but the worst part was unpacking the dozens of boxes in your bedroom and you were careful to set away your prized box of toys.

You moved here to take care of your Grandma, the old woman didn’t have anyone else and she couldn’t hardly care for herself anymore. You didn’t mind, leaving behind your old state and hovering parents that were disappointed in your life choices. Setting your hands on your hips briefly you then jumped at the sound of the lawn mower. You walked to your window and gasped.

Moving the tool was a tall, shirtless blonde guy wearing knee length shorts. His shirt was tossed over his shoulder and his backwards hat covered his messy hair.

He glanced up and you stepped back from the window. You breathed out before you went downstairs where you grandma was loitering in the kitchen. “Grandma, are you hungry? It’s past noon.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I want you to meet someone.” She gestured for someone to enter the kitchen who was behind you and you gulped when you saw it was the hot blonde guy.

He put his t shirt on unfortunately and grazed by you as he passed by.

“This is JJ. He helps me around and I appreciate his company.” She reaches up and pinches his cheek. You snort when he winced but then plasters on a fake smile.

“And she’s my favorite lady to cut grass for, aren’t you?” You almost rolled your eyes at the way your grandma cooed after him.

JJ turned towards you. “Well, you must be the famous uh, Baby doll, your grandma keeps talking about. When did you get here?” The way he phrases the word makes goosebumps rise on your skin but you clear your throat.

“I uh, got here three days ago. I’m still unpacking.” JJ nodded.

“Well, let me know if you need any help with that. I gotta finish cleaning the pool. I’ll see you later.” He gave you a smirk, glancing up at your body.

The hours went by and you really tried to resist but you finally took out your rabbit. Tension built up from stress and now new eye candy to admire. He stayed for hours, cleaning and working outside. Giving you plenty to view as he wiped sweat off his body with his discarded shirt.

Everyone where you used to live wasn’t nearly on his level. And he seemed confident. At least to you.

The silicone was slightly cold as you ran it down your clit that was covered in spit.

What you didn’t know. someone was watching you.

JJ was hidden in your closet. He never left, only snuck back in through the window when everyone went to bed. He had been waiting for weeks for you to come. The old woman couldn’t stop talking about her pretty little granddaughter. And when he saw your picture? He knew he’d have you no matter what it took. He didn’t care that it made him a total perv right now.

The way you ran the toy over your pussy that was glistening even in the dim lighting. Your hands were grabbing your tits as you massaged them and he had to clench his jaw to keep from moaning.

Finally, you brought it inside you, your cunt took it with ease as you pumped it slowly then faster. You almost rolled on the bed, your legs spread wide as you moaned and panted. “Mmm,”

JJ started palming himself before he forced himself to stop. No. He wouldn’t cum in his own hand. No. He would cum inside you.

You were growing closer, he could tell by the way you were breathing and how your stomach tightened. Come on, baby. There you go. He thought.

You spilled all over the toy and bit your lip to quiet yourself. JJ wanted to make you scream and he would. He’d have you on your own bed. A little Kook according to his standards but you needed him. Your pretty doe eyes that were fucked out. Your bitten bloody lip that he wanted to suck.

He waited as you drifted asleep after staying on your phone.

He quietly walked out, his boots thankfully not making much noise. JJ carefully picked up the discarded rabbit beside you. He brought it to his mouth, seeing it was still wet with your slick.

He wrapped his lips around it, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste that coated the plastic. JJ knew his own cum would taste like heaven mixed with yours. His tongue licked the sides, much like how he wanted to devour your sweet pussy. You were still naked on your lower half. JJ rolled his hips as he tried to keep quiet.

But your swollen pussy. Your tits hanging outside of your shirt. Fuck it. JJ set the rabbit down and sank to his stomach. He wasn’t going to wake you up in the traditional way. No. His breath warm against your pussy and he flattened his tongue against your clit.

You groaned, something…felt good. It was in between your legs. It was warm and pressured. You groggily opened your legs and saw a head full of blonde curls buried in your cunt. You gasped but a slap landed on your ass.

“Shhh.” It was JJ. “Lay back. Like a good girl.” He commanded as he greedily sucked your clit before releasing it. he saw you were still sitting up, eyes wide staring at him. “Lay. Down.” He gritted out and you quickly obeyed.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered as he kitten licked the underside of your bud before sinking it inside you. Your pussy tightened around his tongue and he groaned and dug his nails against your flesh. He dragged them down as you humped his mouth with force but he didn’t fucking care.

“JJ, I’m gonna c-“ He stopped immediately and you whined from the removal.

JJ slapped your pussy. “You should see how pathetic you look.” He smirked as he yanked off his shorts and wrapped your wrists with his belt above your head. “This is how it’s gonna go, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

You shuddered before he slammed his lips to yours, he tasted like weed as he opened his mouth and twisted his tongue to yours. You tasted yourself on him as your eyes fluttered shut. You felt him run the tip of his cock along your slit before he sank into you, filling you up.

Your head lulled to the side as you sighed as he started thrusting without warning. “You’re such a dirty slut, huh? Letting me fuck you while you’re sleeping? Fucking yourself while I’m watching?”

Your headboard slammed against the wall and your eyes rolled back as he hit a particular deep spot inside you and his necklace hovered above your face. You couldn’t hardly move but just accommodate him with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Don’t-don’t stop, sir.”

JJ leaned down and let spit fall into your mouth. “I’m gonna cum in you. Fuck a baby inside you. You’d like that? Knocked up with my baby?”

You nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir. Fuck,” You body jolted as your peak was rising, his thumb started circling around your clit.

JJ was about to cum, you knew by the way his speech halted and his movements stopped having a rhythm as he ravaged you. His hand slid to your throat as he gripped you. “Thank me for fucking you. Then you-you can cum.” He muttered.

“Thank you for fucking me, sir.” You whined before your pleasure exploded inside you.

Your body trembled as white hot euphoria came over you and your air was cutting off as JJ squeezed. His rings cold against your burning flesh. He spilled inside you, sticky and all over your pussy and thighs.

You both breathed in each other and he released your throat and you sucked in oxygen.

JJ gave you a wicked smile. “I’m not done with you, princess. I’m gonna hide again in your closet. And you’re going to pretend you’re sleeping. We’ve got all night, huh?”

Tagging. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @girlfuckthatwhore @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @scene-and-dandylover @lesservillain @emsgoodthinkin

[cat3ch1sm]

hihi! i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if u could do killua and gon with a reader whos a silly, clumsy, and kinda dumb mf <3

except readers very powerful, on level or even more than them bc reader is a boss fr 🙏

this can be hcs or a oneshot or whatever u want!

(SORRY IF THIS MAKES NO SENSE LMFAO)

☘️~ DW POOKIE I UNDERSTOOD U PERFECTLY!! thanks 4 requestingg ily <33

gn!reader

𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐰 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <𝟑

୨⎯ 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 ⎯୧

killua usually doesn’t have a lot of patience for people with your personality , but he’s honestly seen what you’re actually capable of so he’s more like.. weirded out

as in like, killua knows you’re crazy powerful and generally super capable- so how the hell do you literally manage to trip over every minor obstacle in your path

but tbh gon has kinda warmed him up to those kinds of people. outside of battle situations it’s basically him making sure you and gon don’t get kidnapped or killed or something

and the contrast between your personality during battle and your personality on just a regular day chilling with him and gon is like insane to him. one minute you’re covered in blood and utilizing blazing nen in ways he didn’t even realize were possible, and next you’ve pulled up like a really stupid meme or picture of a cat on your phone and just giggling like an idiot while showing him (and very much still bloodied).

killua asked you about it once and you just kinda gave him that thousand yard stare and he was just like… nvm

apparently your higher functions just shut off after a certain time 😭😭

but back to the clumsy part. because it’s genuinely insane how careless you can be on a daily basis. worse than gon.

“watch out for the fucking pole, y/n!”

“are you even paying attention?”

“what the hell did you even just trip over, you dumbass? there’s nothing even there.”

“holy shit can you be careful for once??”

“I literally watched you take down 10 chimera ants without breaking a sweat and you can’t even pull a push door, you idiot?”

“no, i’m not letting go of your arm because that’s the tenth time you’ve tripped in the past fifteen minutes. you’ll probably kill yourself if i don’t hold your ass up.”

“way to go, dumbass, now you cut your leg. maybe you’ll be less stupid next time” (while begrudgingly fixing you up)

along with being clumsy you can be super absent-minded and get distracted easily. like gon and killua will just be walking and talking and then suddenly stop and realize you stopped like ten feet ago to stare at absolutely fucking nothing.

when they backtrack to get you they’ll be like “wtf are you staring at” and you’ll just snap out of a daze and they’ll realize you weren’t even staring at anything in particular, you just…zoned out😭😭😭

“y/n. y/n? hellooooo? ugh… nevermind.”

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐠𝐨𝐧 ࿐ྂ

we all know gon isn’t actually the silly, slightly air headed kid from the early days of hxh, obviously- but when he’s just with you and killua and there isn’t any danger, you both basically act the same way. believe me yall got killua stressinggg 😭😭

u guys just fuel each others’ silly antics. and while he isn’t as clumsy as you can be, when u guys are together you guys r genuinely a two man wrecking team. you guys are constantly doing silly and sometimes stupid stuff and not at all focusing.

far too many times you both have been walking or running beside each other and just stumbled over each other’s feet and fell to the ground like actual idiots.

you and gon both have the same tendency to get distracted easily. so basically the same scenario from killua’s hcs but you and gon lmfao

he’ll be walking looking at his phone or something and realize the both of you aren’t even beside him anymore.

“y/n? gon? where… you gotta be kidding me. guys. what the hell are you even looking at?!”

little Christmas head canon- you guys absolutely knocked down the tree at least twice.

[gracev0609]

For the Fans

The one where Danny has an Only Fans...

WC: 2k+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, this is porn with very little plot, Explicit Sex, Male Masturbation, Sex Toys including Anal Play, Edging , Cum Play

A @lipstickitty / gracev0609 collaboration.

Danny wandered into his office, guitars and mixing equipment on one side, a blank wall with some nondescript plants and background decorations on the other. There, he opened the closet, pulling out a ring light. As he made sure his tripod was sturdy the pesky ache started to become unbearable low in his stomach. Finding himself back at the closet he kneeled down, opening the bottom shelf of an organizer. Inside there was a plethora of toys, a colorful array of plugs, dildos, vibrators, and strokers lay waiting to be used. He picked a few of his favorites, things that he knew would get him off quickly and easily.

He set his choices down on the small side table within reach of his chair. Danny picked up his phone, setting the camera to video, and setting it in the holder on the ring light. Before settling in he dimmed the lighting in the room, turning his string lights on that he hung. Once everything was in place to film his video he sat back down in his chair, he was eager. The need to get off infiltrated almost every thought he had today, but he knew he should wait so he could film it for his fans.

Danny never thought he'd make and post on OnlyFans, but one of his friends talked him into making an account one drunken night after seeing just how much money he was making.

“Dude, you should do it! First, you're hot as fuck! Second, think of all the money you'd make man. You already have a fanbase, I know they're dying to see your cock. They'd pay good money for it!”

“I mean.. maybe.”

“You jerk off right?”

“Of course.”

“Then why not film it and make some cash?”

He set up the account, picking a gorgeous profile picture from the many photos he had on his phone, and queued up a draft to save to his Instagram for when he was ready to announce the new content he had to offer.

Now, Danny leaned forward, pressing the record button on his phone. He smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth,” Hi sweetheart.”

He reached behind his head grabbing onto the collar of his cut up t-shirt, pulling it up over his head showing off his muscular arms. When he looked back at the camera his hair was fluffed, his eyes droopy, his arousal already evident. He was needy. Danny closed his eyes, and dipped his head back, his hands trailing down his chest, down his stomach, over the fabric of his joggers. He palmed himself through his pants making more blood flow to his large appendage. Once he was at least half hard and beginning to tent his sweatpants, he gripped his length. The fabric taut around the head of his cock, giving his fans a teasing look at what he had concealed under his pants. Slowly his fingers dipped into his waistband, pulling them down, unveiling his pretty pink cock as it slapped against his tummy, leaving a sticky string of precum linking his abdomen with his flushed head.

A soft groan left his lips as his long fingers wrapped around his length once more, now without any layers in between. His gaze flicked back and forth between the camera and watching the motions of his own hand, letting a string of saliva drip down onto his tip and slowly beginning to stroke himself.

“Fuck.” He muttered as his fist tightened over his sensitive head.

Once he felt he had built enough anticipation he let his cock rest against his tummy while he dribbled a bit of lube onto his fingers and spread it around with his thumb. He propped one foot up on his chair, spreading his legs wider both for better access and a better view. He let his tongue poke out of his mouth as that hand trailed down his body, cock twitching as he just barely brushed against it on his journey lower. He gave his balls a gentle squeeze before dipping his thumb lower, stroking over the sensitive skin on the path to his entrance. His thumb made a few slow circles, hole fluttering at the barely-there, not-nearly-enough touch. He let just the tip of the appendage dip inside, letting out a soft sigh.

After a few moments his slick fingers replaced his thumb tracing over his opening, slowly easing the middle one inside. His free hand fisted his length, softly stroking while he adjusted to the feeling. That finger worked in and out a few times before his ring finger slipped in alongside it. His eyes were dark as he looked into the camera, shaky breaths escaping as he stretched himself. “Shit.” He whined out when his thumb swiped over his leaking tip, spreading the bead of precum that had just formed down his aching cock.

He tossed his head back, moving his messy curls off his face without a free hand. He allowed himself to adjust for a little longer this time, feeling this stretch just the tiniest bit more than the first. When he felt ready, his pointer finger slowly joined the other two making him groan at the slight sting. He let another bead of spit drop down between his legs, speeding the pace of his fist working over his cock just a little. Danny tried fighting the fluttering of his eyes, but he relented, the pleasure coursing through his veins too strong. Once he felt relaxed enough he reached his hand that wasn't currently inside himself over to the table that was holding his toys. He grabbed the moderately sized purple plug. He located the on button, pressing and holding it until it chirped a short vibration. He brought it down between his legs, slowly retracting each of his fingers before pushing the toy in. Once it was nestled inside of him he glanced up at the camera, taking a moment to appreciate just how stunning he looked like this. His silver polished fingers wrapped around his hot hard length again, giving himself a few strokes before activating the toy.

He clicks the vibration on, clicking it up 3 more times, making himself clench subsequently increasing his pleasure.

Staring at the screen he smirked,” I told you. If I could watch myself I would.”

Danny's fist begins a slow rhythm, the slick wet sounds of lube echoing in the room. He hoped the camera was catching the sound. Pleasure tingles down his spine, and his legs twitch. Huffing he lets go of his cock, reaching down and turning the intensity of his toy up. His eyes roll as he starts rocking his hips, gripping himself in his slick hand he squeezes his base, an ample amount of precum oozing out of his slit, dripping down onto his stomach.

“You were wondering if I made a mess, weren't you?”

His fingers reach down, scooping up the sticky substance before stroking himself with it. His hand picks up speed yet again, moans freely slipping from his lips.

“Fuck it feels good.”

He turns the vibrations on the toy down a couple notches, wanting to draw it out as long as he can. It’s turning him on immensely that there’s a camera recording his every move and even more so knowing that before long, everyone’s going to be watching and obsessing over him. The confidence boost he gets from reading the thirsty comments people make about him on the internet is incredible, knowing they’re looking at him, thinking about him, fantasizing about him.

He works himself to the very edge, not holding back any of the sounds tearing their way from his chest, cock pulsing wildly as his hand lets go and travels downward to turn the vibrations off while his body calms. “I bet you wanted to watch me cum already, didn’t you?” He chuckles, his stare focused on the camera. “Not yet. I’m just getting started.”

Once he feels confident he can touch himself again without losing control, he brings the toy buried inside him to life once more, the sensation sending a shiver through his whole body. A shaky moan passes through his lips as he leans forward slightly, hand reaching to the side table for the stroker he’d laid aside earlier. He flips the cap on the bottle of lube again, squirting a couple drops on the inside of the toy before dribbling a bit more onto his throbbing length. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling as the slicked up toy sucks him in while his entire body feels the effects of the vibrating plug pressed firmly against his prostate.

“Fuck. ‘M so hard…” he whines, fist working the stroker up and down while his hips buck up into it. His free hand trails up his body to his chest, teasing both nipples making him gasp. “God damn, that’s good.”

He furiously chases that high for the second time, moans and whimpers becoming whinier and needier as the white hot pleasure builds up inside of him. Just when he feels like he could topple over the edge and crash headfirst into his orgasm, his hand comes to a stop yet again with the silicone toy still wrapped around him and he clenches his jaw, fighting against the delicious vibrations coursing through him in effort to hold himself back.

Finding his composure again, he turns the toy back up a couple notches, eyes fluttering in euphoria. His hand reaches out to the side table again, finding the final toy he’d selected from his arsenal- his favorite vibrator.

It's a small unassuming bullet vibe, but it feels so good. Danny drips more lube on his cock, his hips still writhing from the vibrations abusing his special spot. Slicking it over his hard length he takes notice how red and flushed it is, being denied relief a few times now, but he's aware it's well worth the wait. His primal instincts gnawing at him to grip himself tight and furiously jerk off until he busts, but he has fans to impress. Wiping the slick off of his non dominant hand, he then reached for his phone off the holder. Propping it on his stomach it's now recording from his point of view. His hips flex into nothing watching himself bob in the air, occasionally twitching, begging for stimulation. He clicks the vibe on and begins running it softly over his length, his cock pulses as he teases himself running it up his length until it rests at his slit. His breath shudders as he teases his leaking slit with the vibrator. He twitches wildly, feeling his balls tightening. They're so full and swollen, he's so ready to cum. Cupping the vibrator into his palm he presses it against the sensitive underside of his cock. The tip of the bullet pressing directly against the sweet spot directly underneath the head of his cock. He whimpers, feeling the burning in his stomach amplify. He wraps his painted fingers around his cock squeezing himself so tight as moans escape his mouth.

“Oh-oh! Fuuuck. I'm gonna- mm I'm cumming, fuck I'm cumming.”

He pulses wildly in his hand, his large appendage flexing with every spurt that streams down his length like a white river.

He drops the vibrator, letting it slip from his palm, and his hand continues to jerk himself, milking every last drop of his orgasm. A few dribbles slip from his slit as his hand works himself. Danny pants heavily, admiring the puddle of his cum that rests in the hair at his base. While his cock begins to soften he runs his fingers through his warm mess, streaking it up his happy trail. He brings his camera forward, raising his hand slightly, the image of his cum dripping off his silver nails in view.

He continues recording as his breathing calms down, letting his phone capture his cock twitching while it softens. Finally he stops recording, reaching down and turning off his plug. He leans over, grabbing the hand towel, he wipes his mess and then carefully removes his toy.

After cleaning himself and his sex toys he sits back down on the chair in his office, completely naked. Danny opens Instagram on his phone, clicking over to his drafts, he does a final once over before releasing it into the world. Hitting 'post' he smirks, the world was about to see it. The post in question? Danny took a picture of himself earlier, it's a picture of his lap with his cock hard and straining in his pant leg. His caption is simple,

danielrwagner: 🫦 danny-swagner//onlyfans.com

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

,,Little Bit”

-M.S

Synopsis: Matt agrees to go to a strip club with his friends, to help ‘relieve his stress’. What happens when things take a turn, and Matt actually takes some interest in this horrible fiasco?

Pairing: Switch!Matt X Fem!Stripper!Reader

Warnings: Pure smut. Don’t read if you don’t wanna, no ones forcing you. Unprotected p in v, degradation kink, praise kink, strippers & strip club, choking, oral (m receiving) , cum in pants.

Matt let out a sigh of annoyance as Chris slammed his car door, exiting their ‘shared’ S.U.V. As much as Matt didn’t want to be there, his friends told him it would help him ‘loosen up’, and they were all tired of ‘Tough Guy Matt’.

Matt followed Chris out of the car, almost immediately agreeing upon hearing the blasting music from the club.

“Chris, are you sure this isn’t weird? You’re my brother, I feel awkward going to a strip club with you.” Matt caught up with Chris, who just simply shook his head. “But..” Matt started, and Chris cut him off.

“Look, Matt, we can’t force you to be here, it is completely up to you. No, its not fucking weird, you’re acting like were the ones stripping. Go home if you want to, kid.” Chris sighed, as he continued walking to the door. Matt paused to think about what Chris said, and he eventually agreed.

What was the harm? Plus, he was bound to go to a strip club at least once in his life, so why not just go with people he trusts? He knew Chris was there, and a few of his other closer friends were already waiting inside for the pair, and that is why Chris was trying to make his way to the door quickly.

Matt let out a shaky breath, before jogging back up to Chris, as they both got stopped by the bouncer, for obvious reasons. They were both given the ‘good to go’, and they headed inside, Matt sticking to Chris as close as possible. Loosing Chris would cause him much more anxiety than what he had already built up.

Chris and Matt both walk up to the bar together, where their other friends had been seated. The spot gave them all a clear view of the stage, crowded with loud people, mostly men, seemingly in their mid-twenties, or maybe even early thirties. Him and his friends seemed to be part of the younger people there.

Matt let his eyes wander to the stage. There were only two girls stripping at the moment, one of them was you. The way you walked around the bar, your hands ever so slightly twisting around it, mimicking the exact motions you’d do if you were stroking his cock. The way your back arched, and your legs wrapped seductively around the silver pole, Matt was loosing his mind, just looking at you.

He cursed at himself for letting his mind picture such disgusting images about a woman, let alone one he had never even spoke to before- let alone seen before. Matt’s eyes were glued to your body, almost shamelessly. He felt horrible for thinking such vile thoughts, but you wouldn’t know. There was a very little chance you’d see him staring at you, since there were already so many men doing the same exact thing.

To Matt’s avail, he jinxed it. You looked in his direction before winking. His face immediately flushed crimson red, as his eyes widened. You continued to work your magic on the pole, Matt’s eyes wandering to your ass. Even though the wink was no doubt to him, he tried to play it off like it was for someone else. It would make him feel less guilty about his actions.

His eyes stayed sharp on your ass, pressed tightly against the leather of the material you were wearing. You were wearing such a short leather skirt, with a black lace bra, allowing people to only wonder what you had under the skirt. Every once in a while, your skirt would slightly lift up, giving a few people a view of the black lace panties you had on, that matched the bra you had.

Matt felt himself start to grow hard under his restricting jeans. He felt disgusted with himself. There had to be a bathroom, right? He could just run to the bathroom and back, before anyone even realized he left. They were too drunk and occupied to realize anyways.

Matt quickly stood up from his seat, and snuck into the crowd of people. He honestly hated being there. The place was crowded, loud, overwhelming, and now he was throbbing. He just wanted to go home. He tried staying as close to the walls as he could, assuming the bathroom would be connected to the wall. After walking for what seemed like forever, Matt was about to give up when he accidentally bumped into someone, much shorter than he was.

“Oh, fuck, ‘m sorry,” He mumbled, his voice quickly trailing off when he realized it was you that he bumped into. His eyes were no doubt trailing up and down your perfect body.

“That’s alright, pretty boy. Maybe if you kept your eyes where they belonged, you wouldn’t be running into people, hm?” You tilted your head, your hand finding its way to his chin, lifting it up, to make his eyes meet yours. You let out a small giggle as you realized just how flustered you made the boy. “Are ya lookin’ for somethin’, or just wandering around?” You asked curiously.

“I.. uh…” Matt trailed off, his eyes shamelessly looking down at his own jeans, the bulge clearly visible in his pants. “Bathroom..” He mumbled.

“Oh, baby..” You hummed. “That looks like it hurts so bad… Follow me, I’m sure I can make that pain go away,” You mumble, pressing your hand firmly against his pants, making him jolt under your touch. The way he was reacting let you know this poor boy was touch deprived. It wasn’t often that you would invite people to the back with you, it was usually them initiating first and offering money, which you almost never turned down. But this guy was different. He was hot as fuck, and he seemed to be around your age.

The boy nodded quickly, and you let a smirk cover your face. You took his hand in yours, as you swerved in and out of the large group of people in the crowded building. Matt was tense, and you could tell. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, though.

As you led him into one of the rooms in the back, his eyes widened. The room had LED’s lit red, and a pull out couch that was set up into a bed.

“Lay down for me..” You demanded, but then waited for him to tell you his name.

“M-matt,” The boy stuttered, as he laid down on the creaky bed.

“Okay, Matt. Good boy.” You cooed, looking at the boys flustered state. “Do you want me to fuck you, pretty boy?” You asked, as you got on the bed, beginning to hover over him, wanting to get permission before you do anything more.

“God, yes, please..” The boy whined, looking up at you with wide eyes. You nodded, and you took the opportunity to straddle his lap, your ass going right onto his boner. This caused the boy to let out a loud groan, as he gripped the sheets below him.

You leaned forwards, grinding your hips on the whining boy, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Want me to mark you up, baby?” You offered, and Matt hummed in response. You let a small giggle out, at the fact that Matt wouldn’t even open his mouth, or he’d moan. God, he’s so sensitive.

You moved your lips down to his jawline, placing small kisses there. As you continued to move down to his neck, the kisses became more and more rough; leaving dark marks behind. You continued to move your ass over Matt’s dick, and the boy was still moaning beneath you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was still a virgin, but you were still slightly surprised that he’s lasted this long already, by the state he was currently in.

“P-ugh, please-“ Matt moaned as his hips bucked up. ‘There you go’, you thought. You pulled his lips away from his neck, which was now basically half purple.

“Please what baby?” You teased, slowly running your hands along his clothed chest.

“I- Please, I need to..” He mumbled. He was so shy, it was so fucking awesome. You could tease him all day.

“Hm?” You hummed, and he whined loudly. You let out a small giggle, deciding you can be done teasing the helpless boy beneath you. “You need to cum, Matt? Is that it? Already?” You pouted, and Matt nodded. “In your pants, baby? Such a naughty boy.. Go ahead.” You permitted, and Matt groaned as his head flew back. He bucked his hips into you, and you began to feel a wet spot through his pants.

“Oh, god,” Matt moaned, as you stood off of him. He was out of breath, his chest heaving with his uneven breaths. “Fuck, you’re amazing.” He huffed.

“What? Never had sex before or something? Wait, please tell me you have-“ you started joking, but you quickly began to worry. Matt being a virgin isn’t an issue to you, nor does it bother you, you just definitely didn’t want to be his first time unless he wanted you to.

“Oh- No! I’m not,” He chuckled awkwardly. “I just.. recently broke up so.. haven’t done anything recently. Thats why i’m here, too. And im usually more of a dominant guy, so, thats why I said you’re amazing.” Matt sighed.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, sweetheart. Breakups suck.” You shook your head. How could someone break up with someone who’s heart was so pure? He was cute, too. You didn’t want to keep the conversation going, in case it would upset or make him uncomfortable. “Ya don’t seem to dominant to me, though, Matty.” You tilted your head and shrugged, placing your hands on the waistband of his pants and boxers, slowly tugging them down.

“I-I usually am-“ Matt faltered, as he lifted his hips off the bed, giving you much easier access to slip his unwanted clothing off.

“Yeah?” You teased, knowing you were clearly the dominant one here. The boy just nodded, and you yanked his pants and boxers all the way off. You stared at Matt’s cock in awe. It wasn’t the biggest you’ve ever seen, but it was pretty big, and girth. But unlike all the other one’s you’ve seen in the past, his was oddly.. pretty.

“W-why’re you looking at it like that.?” Matt asked confused, starting to get insecure.

“It’s pretty,” You chuckled. “and I dunno if I wanna suck it or ride it.” You hummed, and Matt whined.

“Please just ride me- I-I need to feel you,” He pleaded, and your eyes met his.

“Dominant. Huh.” You hummed, standing off of him.

“No- please, I-“ Matt fumbled, his hard cock leaking precum and its tip a throbbing red.

“Calm down, baby.” You chuckled, as your hands slipped to your back, allowing you to unclasp the lace bra you had on.

As Matt watched this action, he calmed down and went quiet. He nodded, and watched your tits spill out of the bra, the second you took it off. You threw it off to the corner, slipping your skirt off as well, leaving you in only your panties.

You crawled back onto the bed, and Matt’s hands immediately flew to your hips. You slipped his shirt off, so it wouldn’t get more sweaty than it had already been. He looked up at you with doe eyes, but then allowing his eyes to trail down your body.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking gorgeous,” He huffed, and you let out a small giggle.

“I could say the same for you.” You stated, your hand trailing down to his cock. You slid his tip through your soaked folds, causing you both to let out a small moan.

You sank slowly down onto the boys’ cock, letting out a loud whine as you did so. You slowly started to bounce, Matt grabbing harshly onto your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight-“ He mumbles, his head falling back.

“Holy shit, baby, you fill me up so good,” You hummed. Usually, you’d keep your dirty talk to a minimum (not that it stopped your other few customers here and there), but for Matt, you could make an exception.

Matt let out a small whine at the remark, and you knew the boy loves being praised. You could tell by the small almost inaudible noises he’d make after every sweet praise that would roll off of your tongue so sinfully.

His back arched, and he let out a loud groan as you continued your fast-paced bouncing. He let out strings of curses, his eyes finally meeting yours once again.

“P-please-“ Matt groaned, and as much as you wanted to make him beg for it, you didn’t know his boundaries, and you don’t want to push him. He releases inside of you, letting a loud moan loose. You bounce a few more times, before getting off of him.

“What..?” You ask him, as he gives you an odd look.

“You.. Um… You didn’t cum?” Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh- No! It’s nothing with you, I swear. Most men just.. Don’t care about female pleasure. They just use me for whatever and then want to leave, so that’s what I let them do.” You shrugged, used to the feeling by now.

“No, no, no.” Matt shook his head, standing up besides you. “I am not one of those men. You will not leave this room until you cum. Understood?” Matt grabbed your chin, making your eyes meet his.

His sudden chance in demeanor caught you very off-guard, and it honestly turned you on. How could such a whiny and needy boy turn into this within the matter of seconds? Nonetheless, you nodded, squeezing your thighs together subtly, trying to not let Matt notice.

He pulled your jaw closer, making your lips meet his. The two of you kissed, and you simply allowed Matt dominance, as he pushed you backwards to the bed you were just on moments before.

He pushed you back onto the bed, hovering over your much smaller body. He never broke the kiss once. His hands traveled down your body, gently rubbing along your sides and stomach, your thighs and arms. Everyplace he could touch, he was.

He pulled away from the kiss, flipping you over harshly, causing you to be laying on your stomach. He reached down, and pulled your ass up in the air, causing your hands and knees on the bed, your back perfectly arched,

“Fuck, ma, gonna take my cock like a needy slut? Huh?” He growled, slapping your ass harshly, causing you to let out a yelp in both surprise and a slight twinge of pain.

“Yes- just please, hurry up,” You whined out, causing Matt to chuckle.

“Needy little whore, can’t even wait a few minutes?” Matt tutted, gripping onto the base of his cock, sliding it through your slick folds a few times. Each time, he let his tip linger at your entrance, leaving you to wonder when he was really going to push in.

You so badly wanted to just push yourself backwards, forcing yourself onto his cock, but you know that would only end in a punishment for you. You let out a frustrated groan, and Matt took this opportunity to slam himself into you.

You gasped, and immediately became a moaning mess for him. His pace was much quicker than what you were bouncing on him at, and he was also hitting much deeper and in the right spots at this new angle.

“Fuck! Matt, Matt, Matt!” You chanted his name like a mantra, as he fucked deeper and deeper into you, keeping such a hard grip on your hips, you were sure it would bruise by the morning- or possibly even later tonight.

“Fuck, that’s it. Just keep taking my cock, like the slut you are, hm? Fuck, yeah. You’re taking me so, so well.” Matt mumbled, his hand following your leg, reaching your throbbing clit. He began rubbing in circular motions as he pounded into you at a relentless pace, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t had your last orgasm since a while ago, which was quite surprising, since ‘this’ was your job. You felt a slightly familiar knot tie in your stomach, this knot continuously getting tighter and tighter by the second, and you tried to warn Matt, knowing it would snap at any moment.

“M-Matt, cum!” You moaned, and without permission, you let yourself loose on Matt’s cock. He quickly pulled out, replacing his cock with his tongue, allowing you to ride out your high.

He had came as he was pulling out, and you pulled quickly away, as his tongue was quickly overstimulating you. He stood up, chuckling as he watched you collapse onto the bed, him doing the same next to me.

“I’m still technically at work, but.. I’d love to do that again sometime.” You shrugged, looking over at a cheesing Matt. “Why’re you smiling like that?” You questioned.

“You said most men don’t make you cum. I did,” Matt grinned, winking at you. “And, hell yeah. I’d fuckin’ love to do that again sometime.”

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

me cause im so so so incredibly bad at endings LMAO😭😭 but thank you sm for reading, and SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO ACC FINISH I LOST MOTIVATION HALFWAY THRU BUT I RLY LIKED THE IDEA SO I DIDN’T WANNA JUS GIVE UP😭

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

[kaleldobrev]

Come Back Home

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a relationship ending argument that caused you to leave the Bunker, you and Dean haven’t heard from/seen each other in over a year. Are there still sparks between you two? The better question is: Did they ever truly leave in the first place?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Mutual Pining, Fluff, A bit of angst

Authors Note: Flashbacks are in italics | I had such a hard time coming up with a summary for this | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

It’s been over a year since you’ve last heard from or have seen Dean Winchester. The two of you were together for several years before eventually an argument erupted between the two of you, which ended in the two of you breaking up, and you leaving the Bunker; the only permanent home you had since yours burned down when you were a teenager.

“Y/N, why are you moving out?” Jack asked, as you were in yours and Dean’s shared – now former – bedroom. You were currently packing up a single duffel bag; a bag that had your entire life in it, a bag that you had been lugging around with you for as long as you could remember since the house fire.

Taking one of your shirts, you folded it up and placed it into the bag. You turned to look at Jack, a slightly sorrowful look on your face. “You know why Jack.” You didn’t want to move out, but you had thought that it would be for the best; especially since one of the reasons you had moved into the Bunker in the first place is because you and Dean had started dating. Before you had made the decision, Sam had told you that you didn’t have to move out, because him, Cas, and Jack had liked having you here. Even Dean – although the two of you were no longer together. But you had told Sam that seeing Dean every day – at least for now – was a little bit too painful for you.

“But everything is so much better with you here.” The last thing that Jack had wanted was for you to go. Ever since you moved into the Bunker, Jack said that it seemed more like a home. You had added so many personal touches that the Winchester’s never would have thought of otherwise if it wasn’t for you. Making an actual effort to celebrate every holiday – even the minor ones, implementing family dinners every Sunday, decorating for the holidays, hanging up pictures, and even having various house plants throughout.

You reached out for Jack’s hand and took it in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know Jack but…” You sighed. “Dean and I aren’t together anymore and I thought that it would be best for me to leave.”

“Just because you aren’t together doesn’t mean you have to leave. Sam said –” Jack started to say but you cut them off, knowing exactly what they were going to say.

“I know what Sam said. But, just because I’m leaving the Bunker doesn’t mean you and me still can’t talk.” You gave him a small smile and placed your hand on their cheek. Jack smiled back in return; their smile trying to convey understanding but hurt at the same time.

“Okay.” Jack said. “Can I hug you?” They asked.

“Of course. You don’t have to ask.” You said.

Jack and you hugged for what seemed like a long time; neither of you wanting to let go.

“Thanks Sam. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You smiled, sitting crossed legged on the bed with your laptop in front of you. You had just received some photos of a book that you knew that had been in the Bunker for a case that you were currently working on and had asked Sam to send you some pictures. Although the Bunker was about an hours drive from where you were working the case and Sam had even offered to drop off the books, you had told him that it was best for him to just send you the pictures. You had felt that seeing him in person would make you start crying, even though you knew he had wanted to see you.

“I already know what you’re going to say but, I just wanted to ask. After you’re done there, did you…did you want to come over?” Sam already knew that you were going to say no, but he had wanted you to say yes. Even though he talked to you pretty regularly and the two of you sent photos back and forth, he still missed you. Seeing you physically was a lot different compared to FaceTiming you.

“I can’t Sam.” You sighed softly, closing the laptop in front of you and pushing it to the side. “I mean…I want to. But…I don’t want things to be awkward between me and Dean.” Although you had regularly kept in contact with Sam, Jack, and Cas, Dean on the other hand you didn’t. It wasn’t entirely his fault though, as communication went both ways. There were countless times over the year where you had wanted to call him, text him, something. But each and every time the thought had entered your mind you turned to the comfort of alcohol or a warm body instead.

Sam sighed, knowing that you were going to say no. But there was a small part of him that had hoped you would say yes, especially because of how close you were. “I had to give it a shot right?” Sam held the phone in his hands as he sat in the War Room, open to one of the pages he had sent you pictures of.

“I know.” You sighed too. You had wanted to go back to the Bunker, it was something that you had been thinking about a lot lately. As much as you loved when Jack sent you pictures of everything that was going on, it also made you sad. “How’s…How is he?” You didn’t have to specify, full well knowing that Sam would know who you meant.

Sam had wanted to lie to you, tell you that Dean was doing okay, but he knew that you would see right through the lie. At the same time, he didn’t want to tell you the truth either. Ever since you and Dean had broken up and you had moved out, he noticed such a huge change in him. When he wasn’t being a recluse hauled up in his room, drowning his pain in his alcohol of choice, he had wanted to work case after case to stay busy.

“You know, Y/N is only a few hours away. Maybe she would –” Sam began to say, but Dean quickly down him down.

“We’re not asking her.” Dean’s voice was hard and cold. “She wouldn’t come anyway.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” Sam sighed, knowing that Dean was right. It had been a few months since you and Dean had broken up. The two of you had made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want to see each other. Well, the two of you had wanted to, but the two of you were too stubborn to admit it. Sam knew, that if you were in trouble or if Dean was in trouble, either of you would drop everything to go and help, despite how things had ended between you two. “I’m gonna call her. Ask if she knows anything about what we’re hunting.” He got up from his chair in the motel room and dialed your number, walking outside of the room.

Dean looked at the pages before him and eyed his phone, sighing quietly to himself. Picking it up he unlocked it with his passcode – your birthday – and stared at the homescreen wallpaper. It was a photo that you had taken of the two of you. You were lying in bed together; both of your hair messy and all over the place. He was kissing you on the cheek and you had the biggest smile on your face. He had no idea why he loved this picture so much but he did. He wished that he could go back to that moment more than anything.

Sam walked back into the room, Dean quickly closing his phone. “What’d she say?”

“She thinks we’re hunting a nuckelavee.” Sam sat down across from his older brother.

“A what?” That was something that Dean had never heard of, and he was pretty sure that Sam had never heard of it either.

“It’s a horse-like demon from Orcadian folklore. Apparently, its breath wilts crops, sickens livestock, is responsible for droughts. Three things that we have seen. But get this, it’s mainly a sea-dwelling creature.” Sam explained.

“So what’s a knocklevee –” Dean began, but Sam quickly interrupted.

“It’s nuckelavee. And, Y/N has a theory about that. A lot of Celtic people settled here in North Carolina. So, she’s thinking that since they brought their culture here –” Dean was the one to interrupt now.

“They brought the creature here with them.” Dean said, and Sam nodded. “Who knew her Celtic Folklore degree would come in handy.”

Sam gave Dean a puzzled look. “I didn’t know she had a Celtic Folklore degree.”

“He’s…He’s Dean.” Was the best thing that Sam could come up with to tell you. It was vague enough, but he also wasn’t lying to you.

“I uh…I gotta go Sam. I have an interview with a professor in about 30 minutes.” You got up from the bed and started making your way toward the motel bathroom. “I’ll call you later once the case is over.” You paused. “Thanks.”

“Bye Y/N. Be careful.” Sam responded, his voice sounding a bit too sad for your liking.

“Always am.” You reassured him before hanging up the phone. You looked at your phones wallpaper, a photo that you had wanted to change, but didn’t have the heart to do it, even though it’s been more than a year since you and Dean had ended things. It was a picture that you had taken while you were lying in bed with him; both of your hair messy from the night before. He was kissing your cheek, and you had the biggest smile on your face. You wished that you could go back to this moment because you remembered how happy you were here.

You woke up to the sounds of beeping and blinding lights; finding yourself squinting. Your mouth was dry, unable to recall the last time you had actually drank something. How long have you been here? Your eyes finally able to adjust to the brightness of the lights, you looked around and noticed that you were in the hospital; unsure of how you had ended up here in first place. The last thing you remembered happening was going to talk to the professor concerning the case that you were working on.

“Hi Professor Keating. I’m Agent Larkin. We talked on the phone.” You had knocked on the professors door, she was sitting at her desk and looked up at you with a soft smile on her face.

“Oh yes!” She quickly closed the book that was currently on her desk and got up from her chair. Walking over to you she held out her hand and you shook it. “You’re earlier than I was expecting.”

You looked down at your watch and noticed that you were about five minutes earlier than you’re scheduled interview time with her. “I can wait outside for a few minutes if need me to. But, I’d prefer not to. You understand that this incident is something that my office isn’t taking lightly.”

“Yes, of course.” The professor walked back over to her desk. “What do you need to know?”

When you turned to face the door to get more of a feel for your surroundings you noticed Dean slumped in the chair with his eyes closed and his arms crossed. You wondered how long he had been here. As if he knew you were looking in his direction he opened his eyes; the two of you making eye contact. He adjusted himself so he was now sitting upright in the chair. “Hey.” Dean said.

“Hey.” You said, unsure of what else to say to the man in front of you. There were in fact, a million different things that you had wanted to say to Dean, and there were a million things you had wanted to do. You had wanted to hug him, kiss him, tell him that you missed him. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, no longer able to hold the composure that you were trying so hard to have. The last thing you had wanted was to cry in front of Dean. Not that you hadn’t cried in front of him before, but after not seeing each other in over a year, you didn’t want the first interaction between the two of you to be of you crying.

Dean got up from his chair without any kind of hesitation and walked over to the hospital bed. He took your hand – the one that didn’t have an IV stuck in it – and held it. For some reason, you weren’t expecting him to take your hand. Although you haven’t held his hand in over a year, the feeling of it felt like no time had passed, like you had just held it the same day or the day before. “How did you know I was here?” You asked.

“You still had John Bonham as your emergency contact.” You had forgotten that you had put Dean as your number one contact if something were to ever happen to you. You had meant to change it to someone else, but never got the chance to. With everything that had happened over the course of the last year, changing your emergency contact list was honestly the last thing that was on your mind.

“I’m surprised Sam didn’t come instead.” You replied, Dean went back to sitting in the chair that he had just been napping in.

“I told him not to.” Dean’s words caught you by surprise. A slightly confused expression must have formed on your face because of the next words Dean had said. “He offered to come in my place. But when I told him no,” he chuckled softly, “I swear he…” He looked at you, almost as if he was in some kind of disbelief. “He had the biggest smile on his face. Haven’t really seen him smile since…” Ever since you had left, the Bunker didn’t feel as warm. Sam, Jack, Cas, and even Dean himself, who despite everything that have gone through always had some kind of smile on their faces whenever you were around. But when you decided to leave, it was as if all the happiness had left the place. Dean hadn’t seen the three of them smile it seemed in almost a year; himself included.

“How long have you been here? Last thing I remember I was interviewing the professor. I don’t know if Sam told you or not.” As much as you had wanted to sit up, because of how awkward it was to be lying down in the position you were in to be talking to Dean, the slight pain that you were currently in was making it a little difficult to actually want to sit up.

“Haven’t been here that long. They called me about four hours ago. Arrived 30 minutes after that.”

Dean was lying in his bed, staring at the empty space next to him. It has been a year since you had slept in that spot next to him, and each and every day he had hoped that he would somehow wake up and you would be there lying next to him. That was one of the things that he had taken for granted while the two of you were together; waking up next to you. Each and every morning he would wake up to the scent of your body wash, that still lingered on your skin from your shower that night. He loved waking up to the smell of warm vanilla and honey; a scent that he thought used to be generic smelling – until he met you.

“I shouldn’t still be missing you.” He said to the empty space. The two of you ending things was one of the worst regrets of his life; and throughout his life, he had his fair share of regrets. So many times he had wanted to take back the things he said to you that night. So many times he had wanted to call you and tell you that he was sorry, that he was the one that was the jerk; not you. Over the course of the year he had forgotten what the argument even was about; but knew that it was probably something ridiculous, something that either of you could have easily gotten over.

His phone started to ring just then, unsure of who could possibly be calling him. Everyone that he had talked to was currently in the Bunker; besides you of course, but he knew for a fact that you wouldn’t be calling him. The number that came up was unknown, but he decided to answer it anyway just in case. He had somehow hoped that maybe you had changed your number and this was you calling. “Hello?” He asked.

“Hi. Is this...John Bonham?” An unfamiliar female voice asked. Definitely not you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He was hesitant to say anything else.

“This is Nurse Julia from Republic County Hospital in Belleville, Kansas. I was calling in regard to a Joan Larkin.” Nurse Julia had said. For a moment, slight confusion washed over Dean as he didn’t know a Joan Larkin, well he did, that was the real name of Joan Jett; that’s when it clicked – Joan Larkin was you. Only you would have picked that name. “I’m calling because you’re her emergency contact.”

“Yes, she’s my…Is she okay?” He almost called you his girlfriend, something that you hadn’t been for such a long time. He almost slipped.

“Can you come in Mister Bonham? I would prefer not to talk about this over the phone.” Her voice was calm, and it was something that he needed, even though his heart was racing and his brain was coming up with worst case scenarios.

“Yeah. Yeah. I can be there.” He confirmed, before hanging up the phone. He had never put on his boots and grabbed his keys so fast in his life.

You smiled, not surprised that Dean had floored it to get here. You knew that the drive was supposed to be an hour, maybe a little bit more, but Dean had managed to make it a 30-minute drive. “Can’t believe you drove 30 minutes for me.” That’s not why you were impressed, you were impressed that he had driven here at all, given the fact that you two didn’t leave things on the best terms.

“I’d drive 30 hours straight for you.” The words that escaped Dean’s lips not only surprised you, but surprised him. The two of you hadn’t ended things on the best terms, and this was the first interaction that the two of you have had in over a year; only getting bits and pieces of each other’s lives through other people. Some of the information was reliable, some not; but in a weird way, it still felt like you were still in each other’s lives even if you didn’t talk to each other or see each other. He still cared for you, even if at times he couldn’t admit it to himself or other people. Deep down, he had hoped that you still cared about him too, but he wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t.

“The doctor said they would release you tonight. Your injuries weren’t that serious.” Dean said, not really giving you any time to respond to his previous comment. He wasn’t sure if he was protecting himself or you. There was a small part of him, that had wanted to know how you would have responded, but the part of him that won was the part that didn’t want to be rejected by you.

“What did the doctor say?” You asked. You wanted to respond to what he said previously, but he had quickly changed the subject too fast for you to.

“You had slight head trauma, but not a concussion. Not sure how you managed to pull that one off.” When Dean had talked to the doctor, they said that you had suffered a minor brain injury, but it wasn’t bad enough for you to get a concussion, which he was thankful for. Between you and him, you two have suffered plenty of concussions to last a lifetime.

“Brain injuries don’t always involve concussions.” You commented; remembering an article that you had read somewhat recently.

“Thank you Doctor Larkin.” He smirked. “Nice name by the way.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I learned from the best.” Before you had met the Winchester’s, using a rockstar alias is something that you would have never dreamed of using. Before you had met them, you always used some kind of generic name or a last name related to your childhood, almost as if you were filling out one of those security questions before you were able to log into your bank account. You had used your street name growing up, your favorite teacher’s last name, and even your mothers maiden name. You thought that using those names wouldn’t be as suspicious as using a famous one – like the Winchester’s had been doing for over 15 years.

“Shit.” You looked at Dean, a slight panic stricken look in your eyes. “My…my motel room. I have my case documents in there.”

“Don’t worry about it. I uh, while you were sleeping, I went and grabbed them for you. They’re in Baby along with the rest of your things.” After Dean made sure that you were safe and okay, he had left the hospital and went to your motel after calling Sam to see where you were staying.

Dean went up to the front desk, a slightly balding man was leaning up against the counter reading some kind of magazine that he’s never heard of. “Hey there. I was wondering if you could help me out.” Dean flashed the man a smile. The man looked up from the magazine he was reading; his expression bored. 

“Yeah?” His bored expression matched his bored sounding voice.

“My girlfriend is staying at this motel, and I wanted to surprise her. Can you tell me what room she’s staying in? I think she’s here under the name Larkin.” Calling you his girlfriend felt so good sounding coming out of his mouth, it was something that he had missed saying.

“Why don’t you text your girlfriend buddy.” The man placed air quotes around girlfriend.

“Listen, buddy.” Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out a 20 dollar bill, sliding it in front of the man. “Can you tell me what room she’s in?” The man looked at the 20 in front of him and grabbed it desperately.

“113.” The man replied, placing the 20 in the front pocket of his shirt.

“Thanks. How did you –” You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. “Never mind. I think I already know.” You were about to ask how Dean had gotten into your room, but you knew how good he was when it came to breaking into rooms that he had no good reason being in. “You said, you said you have the rest of my things?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Everything that I could find that I knew was yours. Still have that same duffel bag uh?” When he saw that you were still carrying that duffel bag around, it had made him smile, because he had missed seeing that bag of yours. He had told you countless times that you had needed a new bag, but you had refused, because the bag had too much sentimental value for you to give up. Seeing this bag of yours, in all of its slightly tattered and stained glory, it had become sentimental for him too.

“You have your baby, I have mine.” You knew that you needed a new one, but you couldn’t part of it. That duffel bad, although tattered and stained, held a lot of sentimental value for you. “When I leave tonight, I’ll take it out of your hands. I have a case to finish.”

“No you don’t Sunshine.” The nickname that he had given you when you first met easily rolled off his tongue. “Sam got it handled. The professor you talked to? She was the big bad. She was the one that knocked you out too.”

You practically threw your head back onto the pillow. “Of course she was.” You didn’t know how you didn’t see it, but thinking back, it was rather obvious. All of the students that had been murdered were hers, she was the last one that had seen them all alive: she was the common denominator. “I feel so stupid.”

“I’ll cut you some slack. You did suffer a brain injury.” He grinned, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Well, I’ll still take my things back from you.” You saw his face drop slightly at your comment. You cocked your head, furrowing your brow. “What?”

“Would you…would you want to come back?” He was hesitant to ask.

“Come back where? The Bunker?” You asked, almost in disbelief that he would even ask. “Dean I don’t think –”

“Y/N, I want you to come back.” Yet another sentence that had surprised you. “The Bunker hasn’t been the same without you. I…I haven’t been the same without you.” His words started to crush you; you were speechless. You didn’t realize what kind of impact that you had had when you left. You knew that Jack, Cas, and Sam were going to miss you, they always told you how much they missed you and you did the same. They were like family to you, and you hated to leave your family. But you did what you thought was best, and clearly, that was a mistake. “I’m not blaming you. I’m, I’m blaming myself.”

“Dean, please don’t blame yourself.” There truly was no reason for him to blame himself, because you too were at fault. “We both said things that we probably shouldn’t have said to each other.” You sighed. “To be honest, I can’t even remember what the argument was even about. But I know it was something that we both should have gotten over.”

“To be honest, I can’t remember what the argument was about either. I just know it was about something stupid.” He got up from his chair, reaching into his front pocket and pulling out his phone, handing it to you.

“Why are you giving me your phone?” You were confused.

“Unlock it.” His response simple.

“Dean I don’t know your –”

“I never changed it.” With that, you typed in your birthday and his phone unlocked to reveal his wallpaper: it was the same photo of the two of you that was the wallpaper on yours.

“Dean…” You felt your eyes well up with tears again; Dean leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head. You didn’t realize how much you had missed the top of his head kisses. While you were with him, it was something that you had taken for granted because it was something he did all the time.

“Come back home.” Dean said; three words that he had wanted to tell you the second you walked out the doors of the Bunker over a year ago.

“Permanently?” You asked.

“Permanently.” He confirmed.

[mrchiipchrome]

Parents

W.C. - 3 k

“Fuck!”

“Language” Lucy replies.

Joining Barcelona at the age of 14 last season had changed your life for the better, sure the balancing of schoolwork and professional football was difficult to say the least but you had the most amazing women around you helping. You moved from a small club in the south of Spain to the giants during the summer transfer window, over the moon as soon as you got the call that they wanted to sign you. Your parents gave you the ‘okay’ for the move, though their jobs were too important to leave so you would get placed with a teammate as a solution.

So when you had packed up what little you needed from your childhood bedroom in your backpack, you set off for the train. One tearful goodbye with your parents later and you stepped foot on the train taking you to the city of dreams.

When you arrived, you got picked up by a member of staff and directly to the training grounds where you would meet the team for the first time and sign the paperwork. It felt like it took 1000 years to sign all the papers but when you were finally done, you could feel the excitement coursing through your veins. 

Meeting your teammates was a success and the prospect of living with any of them had you excited. You instantly got the hint that you would live with the two English women when they were asked to stay after practice. Not making too much of a fuss when they realized they had a teen to take care of was good for you, the two of them already having known that you would join their residence for a couple weeks. And so you moved in, creating an unbreakable bond by the end of the first week with the two women.

—

“Can we go out for ice cream after training? I finished all my assignments.” No one could ever resist your puppy dog eyes, infamously adorable, so when you threw them into the mix you were sure that you would get your sought after ice cream. Lucy slings her strong arm around your shoulder, walking a little faster than she normally would to be able to keep the pace of your long lanky legs. Keira slips her arm around your waist at your other side, the two older women sandwiching you between them as they ‘think’ about your offer.

“Sure, but only if you promise to brush your teeth extra carefully tonight. Wouldn’t want you to get cavities-” Your cheers cut her off as you suddenly take off in the direction of some of the younger players, happy that you would get your sweet treat. 

The two women left walking look at each other with a certain softness expressed through their eyes. They hadn’t been expecting to be thrown into ‘parenthood’ so suddenly but life works how it does for a reason, and to be fair Keira did have a bit of experience, dealing with Georgia and all.

Later that day, Lucy’s followers are blessed with a picture of you sitting across from them at the ice cream parlor eating your ice cream before a picture of her and Keira doing the same. It was a sweet moment between the small family, you had really found your true parents in the two women.

—

Trekking around with a knife and an apple was not an uncommon feat at the Walsh-Bronze household, especially not recently. Keira had banned you from using knives after you had accidentally cut off the tip of your pinky while cooking and had to go to the hospital to have it reattached to the rest of your finger. So now you were stuck with the ugly bandage on your hand and another reason for Keira to not let you do something, but you’re sure that she’s been looking for a reason to ban your use of knives for a while now.

You had already looked everywhere for the midfielder, Lucy had gone out to grocery shop so Keira was the only choice but you had exactly no idea where she was. Just as you’re about to break the hard imposed rule she had set and cut the apple yourself, you hear talking from the living room.

Walking into the room, you immediately spot Keira sitting on the couch talking to someone. At first, you don’t know who’s on the other line, but that is before you hear the heavily accented raspy voice of Keira’s best friend. Leah Williamson.

Both Keira and Lucy think your obvious crush on the defender is hilarious, always teasing you and speaking about introducing the two of you. Yet you had always been able to escape the premises before Keira had ever pressed the button under Leah’s name, going over to Vicky’s or in dire cases your captain’s house.

Your eyes widen drastically, but with Keira not noticing your obvious presence you slowly start to back away and out of the room. You see how Keira’s head snaps up in your direction as you accidentally step on one of Narla’s squeaky toys, producing a sound akin to that of a dying pig. Looking down at your feet and the offending device, the only thing you can think about is how the next few minutes are going to be pure hell and embarrassment for you. The next time you look up at the redhead she’s staring back at you with a teasing look in her eyes and a smile full of mirth, and you just know she’s thinking of ways to torture you.

“Y/n, just the person I was looking for! Come say hi to the people” Her eager movements indicating she wanted you to come closer simply don’t give you another choice, especially now that they know it’s you who entered the room. Walking over to the couch which she sits at, you’re careful with the knife still in your hand as you flop down beside her.

“Need help with my apple, please.” Without even responding, she hands you her phone while taking the things from your hands in a swapping gesture. The first thing you notice is how Leah's face only takes up half of the screen instead of the whole screen, clueing you in on what Keira meant by ‘the people’, it wasn’t a facetime call but an instagram live.

“Hi Y/n, I've heard a lot about you, all good things I promise” The wink she throws you isn’t a flirting one by any means, it’s one of those you throw out haphazardly at the end of one of those sentences like the one that just fell from her lips. And like anyone would in your situation, you stutter out a reply all while a blush overtakes your face.

“H-hey Leah” You pair with a wave as you hear Keira sigh beside you at your obvious awkwardness around people you thought of as attractive. “Keira talks about you all the time, so I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

“Keira was just telling me about her new habit of banning things around the house-“

“I have nothing to do with that-“ Keira cuts you off before you can continue lying about your clear involvement in doing things that you later get banned from.

“Excuse me, wasn’t it you who just had to spend nearly two hours in the ER to reattach the tip of your pinky after an accident in the kitchen? Wasn’t it that whole ordeal that made me ban your use of knives in the first place?” Her exposing you had the blush on your face turning a deeper shade of red as you relent, holding up your non-dominant hand covered in bandages from your wrist up to the tips of your pinky and ring finger. 

“To be fair, it wouldn’t have happened if Luce hadn’t distracted me in the first place. She’s too good at that.” If Lucy hadn’t made you look up by calling your name, then you wouldn’t have sliced through your finger instead of the cucumber and Keira wouldn’t have needed to pick up the bloody piece of flesh to put on ice while the distractor herself wrapped your finger tightly in a kitchen towel.

“What about the time before that, huh? The oven incident? Who’s fault was that?” She speaks as she hands you the now cut up apple and takes her phone from your unsteady hand, the phone displaying Leah’s clearly amused expression at the bickering happening in Spain.

“Gracias Kie” You cut yourself off as you take a bite of the juicy apple you’ve waited for so long before continuing what you were about to say. “That was mostly my fault, but how was I supposed to know that the baking sheet had been in the oven when there were no indications of it being hot” Keira just rolls her eyes at that, having told you multiple times before you picked up the metal that it was hot.

“As clumsy as Alessia then, are you?” Leah reminds you of her presence with the rapidly strung together sentence, and while you just look on confused as you hadn’t ever met any of Keira and Lucy’s national teammates she understands exactly what the blonde means.

“No, Alessia’s more clumsy clumsy while this one” She points at you with her thumb, “is dangerous clumsy. Less trips and falls over her feet casually, this one is barely allowed to use the butterknife ‘cause she might accidentally cut herself. Yeah, them two together would be chaotic. We would need double the manpower to keep them from injuring themself.”

Just as you’re about to retort, you hear the front door open and Lucy calling out for you. Sighing, you begrudgingly say goodbye before taking your leave to help Lucy with the groceries. You hear Keira say a quiet “She has the biggest crush on you” to Leah, but you simply can’t be bothered to react.

—

“Lucy, Luce, Roberta, wake up damnit” 

Being shaken awake by a frantic 15 year old is not something many do, usually at that age you’re more sophisticated and careful as you wake people if you do at all. And yet, Lucy finds herself in the predicament of having to decide whether to wake up or not, but as she hears the fast breathing and feels the hands on her still she decides to wake up.

“Hey, hey, calm down. I can’t help you if you don’t calm down, you know.” Now sitting up and more alert, Lucy pulls your shaking form down onto the bed she shares with the other English woman who has miraculously managed to stay asleep through all the ruckus. Holding you in her arms, she feels you calming down little by little until you’re completely still in her hold. She’s nearly convinced that you’ve managed to fall asleep as your steady breaths puff against her neck, but as you speak her assumptions are proven wrong.

“Had a bad dream, I wanted to make sure you and Kie were alright. If it’s not too much to ask for, could you tell me the story of the moon and the sun again?” Lucy had to hold back from letting the exclamation of adoration out at you immediately looking for her and Kiera after experiencing a nightmare. She remembers telling you the story her own mother had told her when she was a kid.

"Of course I can, it’s no problem” She waits for you to stop shifting around so much and to find a more comfortable position in between her and her girlfriend. When you finally still, she starts retelling the story she’s heard so many times before.

“Before there was anything, before me and you and everyone else on this planet existed there was a moon and a sun. Every night right before the moon would go to bed, it would notice the sun lighting up the sky with its incredible glow. As the moon woke up, the sun would go to sleep and its shine would be gone, the moon would miss the very thing it so longed for. So the moon devised a plan, a plan to not miss the bright light of its long lost love, a plan of great excellence and intrigue. And so the night of the plan came, the moon waiting for the rays of sunshine to overtake the dark of the sky it had been so used to. As the sky lit up with soft rays of orangey yellow, the moon couldn’t think of anything other than how much more beautiful everything was when it was lit up by the sun.” 

Lucy felt the way you had slumped against her halfway through the story, now sure about your unconscious state.

“You’re good with her” Keira speaks from the other side of your body and Lucy smiles at the sound of her voice.

 “Thank you”

—

When you heard that team bonding would take place at the zoo, you couldn’t have been more excited. On the contrary, both of your team moms were less than happy about the choice of location for the activity knowing they were going to have a hyperactive Y/n on their hands. But as luck would have it, the kiddie leash they had ordered for these occasions had come in the week prior. It was one of those backpacks with the leash attached to the back of it that you would see parents with unruly children use. 

After a bit of bribing, they got past the initial protests of you not being a child and got you to put on the dinosaur backpack, they tightened it to make sure it wouldn’t fall off before walking out of the house together.

They made sure to use the backpack function as well, stuffing it with your drinks and snacks. You’re nearly at the zoo when they realize the absence of the memory of you taking your medication that morning, and at that moment they are incredibly thankful for making you wear the backpack.

Watching as you flip Mapi off for making fun of your new accessory, they don’t have the heart to tell you off for the obscene gesture. Not when it was their fault you were getting made fun of in the first place. 

Like always, you gravitate towards the younger members of the team while Keira does the older ones. This leaves Lucy to go with you to your friends and Keira to walk over to hers. 

“Vicky look at my backpack, isn’t it cool?” You skip over to her, clutching onto the fabric hanging over your shoulders as Lucy tries to keep up with your overly energetic self.

“It’s really cool Y/n” Vicky’s words mean a lot to you, her becoming a close friend and a sisterly figure for you with her being so close in age. 

When everyone is rounded up, they buy their tickets one by one and wait on the other side of the gates for the rest. Once inside, you’re rushing around buzzing to see all the animals that you can’t see normally. Like the saying goes, time goes faster when you’re having fun, you soon find yourself eating lunch with half the day being spent with different animals. You and Lucy are throwing teasing comments at each other like usual when an innocent comment starts an onslaught of funny statements.

“Y/n when I was your age-” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before you start.

“Luce, when you were my age I wasn’t even born yet. In fact you made your senior debut for Sunderland a year before I was born.” That shut her up, not knowing that you had done your research on her. 

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch and as you walk home, you can’t help but wonder why life has been so good to you lately. But you don’t think for too long, instead being happy with the course your life has taken.

But everything everyone can talk about when the pictures of the day are released is how you had to wear the kiddie leash. 

—

Lately you’ve been using TikTok a bit more often, not much more than before but there was a difference. This meant that you had discovered new trends and edits of your teammates, you had even followed a couple of accounts making videos of your teammates to show them later. 

But when you saw the video on your recommended page, you just knew it would be perfect for you to use with Lucy and Kiera. The perfect opportunity to strike comes up when they ask you to join them for a walk with Narla later that day, to which you agree. 

You let them walk in front of you as you slow down, TikTok open on your phone ready to record the interaction. You hold your thumb on the red button as you start by recording yourself mouthing the words before turning it to them and recording them in time with the sound.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you decide to edit the clip later and enjoy the walk you currently were on. 

Arriving home, you go to your room and type out the in video caption of ‘when they take you out on walks with their dog’. Before posting the video you type the usual caption, ‘walks with Robert and shaKeira (narla was there too)’.

An hour later the two victims barge into your room and unexpectedly hug you, expecting them to be ‘annoyed’ at you but that wasn’t the case.

“You think of us as your parents?” You see Lucy discreetly wipe a tear from her eye, but you pretend not to notice it.

“Well yeah, you guys have been more like my parents these last few months than my biological ones have been all 14 years they had me around.” The two just embrace you harder at that, and you can feel their love seeping through their actions.

“So I take it you like my mama y papa video then?” The two of them just press a kiss to either side of your face, and you feel truly happy for the family you have gotten since you moved to Barcelona.

Nearly took longer to post this, my hand is burnt. Hope you enjoyed, this was a pretty shit one. Promise the next one is Lessi

[scentedashes]

Finally long awaited, A threesome story about Columbina x Read x Arlecchino!!

Sub!Reader Dom!Arlecchino Switch!Bina

NSFW, WLW MEN DNI!

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

You we're in a poly relationship with two women named Arlecchino and Columbina. Arlecchino and Columbina was the first ones to start dating until Columbina introduced you to Arlecchino, agreeing to a poly relationship.

You and Columbina just got home from a shopping spree, mostly spending Arlecchino's credit card as she was one of the richest woman in the town.

"Phew, my legs hurt from walking.." You sighed as you plopped down the couch "Mhm.. Hey, where's Arle?" She questioned, "I think shes going to be home any minute now"

As soon as you said that someone opened the front door, "Hey ladies, busy shopping hm?" Arlecchino entered, her hair was a mess. "Mhmm! We bought new shoes and-" As Columbina yapped about the entire shopping spree you guys did.

"And you almost maxed out my credit card huh?" You and Columbina went silent. "Wellll-" As you were about to continue your sentence Arlecchino spoke, "Seems like your the one who spent alot of money hm?" Glaring at you while getting her necktie off, "Maybee" You confessed, "Naughty girl.. I need something in exchange right?" You wondered what she meant.

"I dont care if your legs hurt from the walking you've dome, you spent my money you need to pay it back." With her unbuttoned suit, "What do you mean by ,,exchange,,?.." you wondered, "Oh you'll know.. Bina, get them please." Pointing at the drawer, Columbina was smirking and smiling. Making you wonder whats about to happen, Columbina suddenly pulled out 2 straps and a vibrator.

"Y-you guys had those in that drawer the entire time?!" You we're shocked seeing those. "Good reasons Darling, now undress slowly and lay on the bed for us, hm? You're a good girl after all right." Columbina gave Arlecchino the other strap and the vibrator.

"Pst, Arle, you should go slow with them, its their first time yk?" Columbina suggested while whispering in Arlecchino's ear, "No, they can handle it." While you were fully stripped you were blushing hard. "You need lube.. Come here" Making you know she wants to make you sit on her lap.

"Good girl, now.." She turns on the vibrator and puts it on your sensitive clit, "Ngh..!" You moaned, you didnt notice the vibrator in her hand. She made the vibrator go faster and go in a circular motion, not too long she shoved it in.

"Agh..! Mmnn.." Your body was twitching and it was obvious you we're almost hitting your climax, "See Bina, she can handle it." She puts the vibrator on max, making you hit your climax. "Nngh!" She panted heavily. "I think thats enough lube.. Which are you ganna take Bina?" She questioned her, "I'll take the top part, that'll be fun!!" She gets on top of the bed and goes above your head,

"Such a pretty face.. Let me take a picture of before and after." She giggled as she took a picture of your face, "After what?.." You were confused, "You'll see baby, lets see how ruined your face is going to get after this mess." Arlecchino puts on the strap and puts a finger in signaling you, "Ngh..!" Im putting it in.

"O-ok-" You were cut off by Columbina, You didnt notice her get naked but she sat on your face. Riding it. You began to eat her out and holding her thigh, She moaned.

"Y-you're such a g-good! Girl.." She kept getting cut off from the pleasure, Meanwhile at Arlecchino's side.. She thrusted the Strap deep. "Agh..! Nngh..!" You moaned, her thrusts we're HARSH.

She hit your g-spot making you instantly climax, "Such a wet pussy." She kept thrusting harder and it became faster every thrust, Your eyes we're all teary from how hard and harsh the thrusts we're, but you couldnt breathe well since Columbina was sitting on top of you, you we're eating her out. She kept moaning, and humming, she giggled. "Aww, my babies pretty face got ruined already?~" Teasing you.

She took a picture of your teary face, "Agh!.." You kept moaning and twitching from evey thrust Arlecchino did. Arlecchino held your boobs, she licked and bit the side of your boobs while thrusting leaving a bite mark. "MMmmgh!.." You moaned, "Such a messy wet girl.." She said to you while thrusting even harder, every thrust hit your g-spot, you hit your climax once again.

"That was fast.." Your walls were so tight that she could even feel it from the strap. After 3 hours of this madness You guys finally stopped. "A-ah.." Your body twitches, your eyes teary and watery. Your hair and body was a mess.

"Aww~ My baby us so messy~ Did we take it too far Arle?~" Teasing you, "Probably, but she handled it. So she knows what'll happen the next time dhe Maxes my card. Bina took a picture of your face,

"Look at this messy face of our little girl.. So messed up~" Columbina was dripping from your eating her out. She couldnt even stand without her legs twitching, "She was a very hungry eater~" Glaring at you, your body was filled with bite marks and hickeys. "Such a strong girl.. Handling a 9 inch strap am i right Bina?" Taking the strap off, "Could we continue?~ I have the greatest idea!~" As she whispers something to Arlecchino, she nodded and picked you up, she puts on the strap once again and Columbina putted a strap on too.

Your legs we're already week. Knowing you won't be able to even walk for days. "Be a good girl and handle us ok?~" Columbina teased your clit, She inserts the strap into your ass and Arlecchino inserted the strap in your pussy.

"A-ah! T-too much..!" They we're already thrusting hard and fast. Leaving a bulge on your stomach from Arlechino's strap, double penetration was too much for you, you instantly hit your climax the minute you guys started, "I'll count how many climaxes you hit ~" Columbina said, continuing her hard thrusts. Arlecchino bit your shoulder leaving a mark, while columbina left a hickey on your neck, you hit your climax once again.

"2.." She counted as she promised. After another 3 hours of those two pounding your ass and pussy away, you couldnt feel a thing. You couldn't even stand,

"And 32!" You were shocked on how many climax you hit. "I think that's enough for today, right Arle?" Arlecchino nodded as she layed you down onto the bed. She chuckled, "You were such a good girl today. 6 Hours of pounding, Impressive." She smirked, "Pst, good thing i got a wheelchair!" As Columbina pulled out a wheelchair, thats why You wondered why she bought that earlier at the mall.

"I cant even feel my legs." You had no energy left leaving you to sleep. "Such a messy body and face, we did such a good job today Arle~" Columbina clapped, "Mhm.." Arlecchino giggled while agreeing.

THE END!!!!!

Thank you for reading, this was kinda rushed 😞 and lazyness got me, its not that good so im sorry 😿

Some part were told to be added by a req!!<3

[heartfullofleeches]

You mentioned in a headcanon post about how Tobi would knock reader out with their voice when they did something they didnt like, could you make an example scenario 4 us ? :0

"No."

There are many things Tobi can protect you from. Ghosts and demons, spiteful commentors and people who wouldn't take no for an answer were forces they could easily handle as simply as flicking off a light switch. Ancient, decrepit houses - as hard as they may try, weren't always included in that list.

As per usual - Tobi left to explore the house you'd picked out for your next stream couple days prior to the stream to rid the place of any hostile spirits or other elements that may bring you harm. It was pretty much habitual for them scout every location, and helped relived some of their stress towards leaving you to your own devices in what was essential the unknown.

The house was far worse off inside that the pictures you had showed them conveyed. A riverside lodge annihilated by a enraged storm and the overflooding waters from the river bank. The young couple who owned the home tragically drowned after leaving the sun roof open the night prior and failing to wake up before it was too late. The walls sagged with age and decades of water weight, and the warped, rotting floors could barely handle Tobi's lanky stature and size.

Normally, they'd just install some temporary support planks and forbid you from venturing to the top floor or basement, but exploring deeper they came to the conclusion this site was far too dangerous for you to step a single foot inside.

Heading towards the stairway to the top floor, there was a large gap right between where the first step and the bottom floor met. It was narrow enough to where they could just step over - but Tobi noticed something right as they peered casually into the hole. A piece of fabric stuck to the spliters of the wood. It was in too good a condition to be something from the incident, but that's not what made Tobi pause.

The scrap of cloth matched perfectly to a jacket you had just released - the same jacket you were throwing on now.

"Aw, come on, Tobi - this could be our big break!"

Their fingers fly to fast across their phone screen for your eyes to keep up.

"Too dangerous."

Laughing, you zip up your jacket as you reach for your keys. "You always say that. If you're scared, you can wait in the car and I'll cut the stream short. I did okay on my own before you came around."

Grabbing the tail end of your jacket, Tobi's mind rushes back to the second sight they saw in that hole. The bloated corpses of one of your followers - staring straight up at him. They couldn't even remember what their face looked like. All they saw was yours. It was always yours.

Tobi grabs your wrist, squeezing the ball of your hand until you're forced to lose your grip on your keys. Stay. Don't go. Your adventurous spirit was one of the endless things they loved about you and they'd never take that away - but if you left their sight for a single second then-

"No......"

Pressure builds behind your eyes. You pres a hand to your temple, shaking off the brief wave of nausea "Ugh.. Tobi... I'll be okay, I promise. I got a little headache now, so I didn't won't be out long. "

No.... Flashes of your face in that horrible state cloud their already fogged mind- eyes glossy, skin pale and so, so cold. A far cry from the life and warmth you gave off now. It would only take one second. One second for you to get hurt. One second for them to lose you. They can't go back to life without you. They can't be that empty shell rotting away in an equally decaying home. They can't - they won't. You can't leave them.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LEAVE ME!"

It all happens so fast. Your brain throbs. Without utter a single word, you place your fingers your lips - red being all you see. Shaking, you look up at your cameraman as your jaw goes slack.

"To-"

Your eyes glaze over, trembling legs unable to support the remaining weight of your body as you fall. Tobi dives to the floor, catching you in their arms before your unceremoniously landing. Your head almost hits the floor before their arms shoot out to catch you. He supports it and your neck on his shoulder, unzipping your jacket with the same tremors you had before your fall. Tobi removes their hat and places their ear to your chest.

One beat. Two-

You're still alive. Deep down they knew, but for the sake of their aching heart they had to make sure. Tobi carefully zips your jacket back up and once they do - they begin to cry. If your comatose state was good for one thing it was leaving you in the dark, unharmed by their wails and pleads.

"sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you. Please - please don't leave me..Don't leave me."

Tobi slowly regains their composure. They wipe the blood from your nose, and their thick tears from your face as they stand. Tobi carries you to your bedroom and places you in bed. They clear your search history of anything related to the cabin and burn the notes along it. They reserve a table at your favorite restaurant for tomorrow, praying you'll wake up before the time comes. As you rest they rehearse their lines for when you wake - thankful you'll never hear the break in their voice when they lie.