#do you ever just. realise that you’ve definitely bitten off more than you can chew

[fingertipsmp3]

Me getting the job:

Me immediately being hit with imposter syndrome:

[swga-ficrecs]

june 2021 recap

ahh june was a really fic-filled month!!! i used to be a silent reader but then i realized that it’s hard to go back to the fics i really liked reading since i had no way of finding them except for remembering key words and googling the shit out of it lol so!!! i thought of doing a monthly recap of all my favorites in addition to the fics i like and reblog. thank you to these wonderful authors who just write pure magic  ✨

🏆 holy grail  |  ☀️ fluff  |  🌧 angst  |  💋 smut.

fave authors

🏆 @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong

HOLY GRAIL AUTHOR!!! Loved a lot of their series because of the tropes and the plot. I’ll definitely come back to their fics in the future for another binge reading session

@taecalikook

Really loved their fuckboy trope fics. Has a few unfinished fics I’m excited to binge read once they’re completed

🏆 @gukyi

Discovered their work back in 2017? Really loved IGYMH and reread their masterlist this month

@ve1vetyoongi​

All I can remember is the ending of Mic Drop and I can’t  😭 I’m really excited for their unfinished fics!!!!

fave fics 

Arranged by @.minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: chaebol MYG x student reader

Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

Dissonance by @.minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong  🏆 🌧 ☀️

Pairing: bassist KTH x student / band manager reader

Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

The Parting by @.minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong  🏆 🌧 ☀️

Pairing: flower shop owner PJM x reaper reader

The only certainty in life is death, and it seems to follow Park Jimin. All his life, the icy shadow of death has hung closely by his side, along with the shadow of…something else. Reapers exist to guide the souls of the living to the world beyond. But what happens when a particular Reaper tampers with the natural order and saves a mortal boy’s life? What will they do once their fates become inextricably linked?

From Home by @gyukult  🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: chaebol JJK x reader

jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

(Not) Just Friends by @.taecalikook  🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Bestfriend / fuckboy / fratboy JJK x reader ft. KSJ 

Befriending the fuckboy with devilishly handsome face and emotional capacity of a pea is not your choice, especially when you met him when you were in fifth grade, attracted for the unhealthy vermilion shaded face of the nerd he was that fateful day. So was Jungkook, as he is already putting strictly platonic label on your forehead and calls it a day. But it is only a matter of time before everything changes, and it only takes a frat party, lots of booze and… a certain Kim Seokjin.

Partiality by @jiminimoon  🏆 🌧

Pairing: Husband PJM x reader

You and Jimin argue about your kids not loving you two equally

Brown-eyed Baby by @jeonstudios  🏆 ☀️ 🌧 💋

Pairing: Single Parent JJK x reader

a lost child at the mall. eyes from a different time.

I’ll Give You My Heart by @.gukyi  🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: CEO bestfriend MYG x reader

gift exchanges are cool. gift exchanges with your ceo-slash-best friend min yoongi are less cool, because what the hell are you supposed to get the man that already has everything?

The Truth Between Us by @.gukyi and @jimlingss   🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Editor MYG x reader

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

Love is Blind by @cinnaminsvga 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

[Final] Pairing: Fake boyfriend KNJ x reader

social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way)

Love Grows Where You Go by @hueseok 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Fiancé MYG x reader

determined to make you and yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. you know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you’re positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don’t find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. that is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned.

Give Me Love by @.hueseok 🏆 ☀️ 🌧

Pairing: Lawyer boyfriend KNJ x reader

you’ve been in a relationship with your boyfriend for over five years now, yet the talk of marriage has never been initiated between the two of you. of course, you try to somehow squeeze it in from time to time, but it seems like no matter what, namjoon just won’t take the hint

Cornfields and Cosmos by @jessikahathaway ☀️ 🌧 💋

Pairing: Alien MYG x reader

Cornfields: He was an alien. You were a girl. Can I make it any more obvious? Probably. It’s the one where Yoongi’s a cold alien that needs love too.

Cosmos:  Yoongi and you had been travelling together for a long time. You’d begun the terrifying journey of becoming parents. When a new person arrives in a way you didn’t expect, you and Yoongi’s relationship is sent into a tailspin.

The Art of Craving by @venusiangguk  ☀️ 💋

Pairing: Single parent DILF JJK x reader

jk takes you to a bbq at his friends house. the tri-tip is good but the creampie is even better.

fics to i’m waiting to finish before binge reading

What we are not ; Soulmates by @.taecalikook

Pairing: MYG x reader x KTH

you love yoongi with all your heart throughout these five years being in a relationship with him. you always thought he is the one — your one, even when the infamous soulmate signs are still not showing. yet you always wait, because you know it’s him you are destined to be with, forever. but what would happen if then his childhood best friend comes along, with the universe-signed telltales that you have been looking for true love in all the wrong places?

When the sea sleeps by @.taecalikook

Pairing: KSJ x reader

marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

After Midnight by @.gyukult

Pairing: JJK x reader

jeon jungkook only likes seeing you after midnight.

Better With You by @ve1vetyoongi

Pairing: KSJ x reader

A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Operation: Love Letters by @.ve1vetyoongi

Pairing: OT7 x reader

When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

Remember Me by @.ve1vetyoongi

Pairing: OT7 x reader

Taehyung wants to be forgotten. Overwhelmed by his life as idol persona V, he longs to just be Kim Taehyung for once. Even if that means forgetting everything he ever knew

🏆  The Prince and His Rose by @vanaera

Pairing: Football player / Childhood bestfriend JJK x reader

Drabble series of “For a While”

The Heart Holiday by @.vanaera

Pairing: MYG x reader

Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

My Time by @.vanaera

Pairing: JJK x reader

A future technology allows cops to jump in the past and future to investigate crimes that have happened and prepare for those that are about to happen. A simple hit-and-run turns into something more when Captain Jeon Jungkook finds himself as the victim of a culprit who cannot be identified by the system. Especially when the culprit seems to be the same person behind the new case that’s threatening the order in the justice organization. All goes haywire when Jungkook gets involved with Y/N L/N, the clairvoyant sketch artist who may be his only help to solve the case.

Lost Stars by @.hueseok

Pairing: JJK x reader

the last person you’d expect to be there for you is your roommate, jeongguk, on the night you break up with your cheating boyfriend; because as far as you’re concerned, the both of you aren’t exactly friends, and he definitely shouldn’t be running to get you upon hearing you sob via phone call.

so when he does, you begin thinking that maybe you’ve just been hard on him over the years, or perhaps he just liked pretending to be an annoying shit most of the time. either way, it becomes the beginning of an unexpected friendship finally blossoming.

Dexterity + Stupidity by @.hueseok

Pairing: JJK x reader

a drabble series that features surgical intern!jeongguk x surgical resident!reader as they go through their odd senior-junior relationship, obviously having the hots for each other and yet, frustratingly goes into twists and turns in order to properly act on it.

Crimson Grail by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: MYG x reader

There were tales of the famed pirate Min Yoongi, Captain of the Crimson Grail. However, one meeting with him is hardly ever enough… One taste of adventure, and you were addicted.

Baby Talk by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: PJM x JJK x reader

Jimin and Jungkook had been trying to get a surrogate for years. Finally when you agree to help them, their dreams seem to be coming true. But, dreams change…

Vegas, Baby by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: KTH x reader

They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What happens when there’s a little more legality to it than that?

Taming the Beast by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: KTH x reader

You were the next in line to be the head of your village, when your mother gave you to the enemy to save your people from merciless slaughter. What happens when they try to Tame a Beast?

Owner by @.jessikahathaway

Pairing: JJK x reader

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

If Only You Knew by @agustdakasuga

Pairing: BTS x reader

From the start, you knew you wanted to be a hybrid rehabilitator. You needed to help these hybrids heal, learn to live with one another and lead normal lives. Even if they are all different, you hoped that they could give each other a new reason to live.

[thedaughterofkings]

An American Werewolf ...

Written for @sterekweek2019​ Day Six: Canon Highlights, 2k of re-imagining what might have happened after that pool scene!

Once the lizard creature - a Kanima according to Derek, whatever that might mean in detail - is dealt with and Scott disappears, very apologetic and nevertheless very quickly gone, Stiles stands in the parking lot and drips. 

Next to him, Derek shifts and when Stiles turns to look at him, he looks ready to run away. And drips. 

After a moment, he says: “Thank you.” Stiles has never been thanked so reluctantly. It’s almost hilarious how uncomfortable Derek looks - like a grumpy, wet cat. Stiles has to bite his lip to stop a grin spreading across his face that would surely get him slapped or punched right now. Derek does not look in a very witty mood right now.

Also he’s still dripping.

As is Stiles.

Stiles wrinkles his nose when a drop of pool water slides down it and then sighs.

“Alright, jump in.”

“What.��

Derek's aversion against inflection strikes again. 

"Do you have a shower in your secret lair? Stiles asks and doesn't even give Derek a chance to answer before he continues: "Thought so. Now jump in; I'll let you use ours out of the goodness of my heart. Can’t have you die on me from pneumonia after I saved your life.”

“I’m a werewolf. I’m not going to die of pneumonia,” Derek says, rolling his eyes, and Stiles rolls his eyes right back at him.

“Your werewolfiness didn’t prevent you from drowning, did it? Nope, I, Stiles Stilinski, measly human that I am, did. So you are going to honour my heroic actions and get your furry ass into my car and then into my shower.”

He pulls open the passenger door of the Jeep and to his eternal surprise, Derek stops arguing and gets in.

The ride home is uncomfortable - not because of Derek, who is quiet, but not awkwardly so. It’s uncomfortable because Stiles sits in a pool of, well, pool water, his shoes make strange squelching noises with every movement and the stray drop sliding down his neck makes him shudder intermittently. Despite all of this, when they arrive Stiles takes one look at Derek, who looks like a drowned cat, or perhaps like a very grumpy drowned puppy, and sighs.

“The bathroom’s up on the first floor, first on the left. Towels are in the cabinet, I’ll get you some sweats or something. No stripes, I promise.”

When Derek doesn’t even show his teeth, Stiles knows he made the right decision in not just letting him slip away into the shadows. Or drip away into the shadows. Stiles puts on some hot water and digs around in the freezer for the one pizza he has hidden there for emergencies. If this doesn’t count as an emergency, then what does. 

By the time the water shuts off in the bathroom, Stiles has the biggest pair of sweatpants he owns and an old police academy shirt that used to belong to his dad ready for Derek. He dithers over whether to add boxers, and then quickly grabs the least embarrassing pair and adds it to the pile as the door creaks open.

Derek has a towel wrapped around his waist and Stiles does his best not to ogle his shoulders or chest or the hint of thighs under the towel.

“Here you go,” he says, and hurriedly shoves the clothes into Derek’s hands. “When you’re ready, go check the pizza isn’t burning downstairs, would you?”

Then he turns away from Derek, hopefully before his flaming cheeks got too obvious and starts walking away when he realises he completely forgot to pick up some dry clothes for himself. But when he turns back to grab a shirt and some sweats, Derek has already dropped his towel. Stiles stares at his back, eyes travelling down from the spiral between his shoulder blades despite Stiles’ best efforts, over the dips at the bottom of his spine and finally across the curve of his ass. Then Stiles lets out what can only be called a squeak, decides dry clothes are overrated, and flees from the room.

After a brief attempt to drown himself in the shower, Stiles tells himself to man up and carefully peeks through the bathroom door. Some noise from downstairs gives him enough courage to slip into his thankfully empty room and quickly pull on some hopefully clean clothes from the pile on the foot of his bed. 

He almost expects Derek to be gone when he gets down, but to his surprise, he hasn’t escaped while Stiles was in the shower. Instead he’s standing in Stiles’ kitchen, cursing softly under his breath as he attempts to get the pizza off the tray and onto a plate. While Stiles is watching, he gives up on waiting for gravity to do its job and just pulls the pizza off with his hand, hissing when his palm touches the hot tray. 

“Dude, what the hell!” 

Stiles hurries forwards and almost burns himself as well when he grabs Derek’s hand. But as he watches, the wound heals until just a faint red streak remains and they end up simply holding hands. When Stiles realises that, he hurriedly drops Derek’s hand and busies himself with grabbing some cutlery and plates, willing down the colour in his cheeks. Behind him Derek puts away the tray and grabs the pizza, following Stiles when he leads them out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“Get comfy, I’m going to get some hot tea - or would you prefer hot chocolate? I think we might still have some instant stuff somewhere. Not as good as made from scratch, but we definitely don’t have that in the house, my dad would sniff it out immediately. I’m surprised he didn’t find the pizza! Or would you like anything else, coffee, warm milk, water, a beer? We don’t have anything harder and we really shouldn’t even have the beer, but I think it’s Dad’s proof to himself and me that he’s not fallen off the wagon, so the beer is probably really old, but perhaps it’s still good. Does beer go off?”

He’d probably have kept on rambling if Derek hadn’t interrupted him: “Tea is fine, Stiles.”

“Tea it is!” Stiles replies brightly and escapes into the kitchen where he first bangs his head against the fridge. God, what is wrong with him! Then he sighs, drags a hand down his face and finally fills up a cup of tea for both of them. It’s not the drink he’d usually go for, especially not with pizza, but the shower has only done so much to warm him up, so tea it is. 

When he comes back into the living room, walking carefully to make sure nothing spills - they’ve had enough of both water and burns for one day, he thinks, Derek has cut the pizza into slices and sat down. To Stiles’ surprise he didn’t choose the armchair, but the couch, so now Stiles has to decide whether he’s going to take the armchair or sit down next to Derek. He hesitates and then sits down on the couch as well, reasoning to himself that it’s easier to get at the pizza that way. 

He promptly grabs a slice and shoves it into his mouth, mumbling: “Help yourself, dude,” when Derek doesn’t move to take a slice as well. Ignoring Derek’s disgusted look, he chews contentedly and switches on the TV, zapping through the channels until he ends up on something that looks familiar.

Stiles swallows and then says excitedly: “Dude, An American Werewolf in Paris!”

But to his surprise, Derek just furrows his brows in question.

“You’ve not seen it?” Stiles asks, confused. When Scott had first been bitten, Stiles had watched every single werewolf movie he could find, ostensibly in the name of research, but also just because most of them were hilarious, especially as he figured out this lycanthropy thing. 

“I am a werewolf, Stiles, I don’t have to watch crappy werewolf movies,” Derek says, sounding particularly disdainful.

“Dude, that’s the best part!” Stiles exclaims. “You get to make fun of all the things they get wrong! Crappy werewolf movies are the best movies now!” He gestures towards the TV. “Like look at the cannibalism here - not too closely, though, they really went all out - isn’t it absurd!” He stop and narrows his eyes when a worrying thought crosses his mind. “The cannibalism is absurd, isn’t it?”

“No, Stiles, I’d much prefer to eat you than this pizza,” Derek deadpans and Stiles’ tea goes down the wrong pipe when his mind offers up decidedly un-cannibalistic images for that. He waves off Derek’s suddenly concerned look and croaks after he’s gotten his cough under control: “Let’s just stick to pizza for now, shall we?”

“I didn’t mean -” Derek stutters, his cheeks flaming, and Stiles ignores the pang in his chest at that admission and quickly says: “Nevermind, look, here’s their cure - killing the one that bit you, so far, so good, but then also eating their heart. I don’t think Scott would have been able to eat Peter’s heart, even if he’d have managed to kill him. Thanks for that by the way; I know Scott probably doesn’t agree, but I’m glad you killed Peter. Imagine if the stories about the cure were just that - stories - and we’d have ended up with Scott as the Alpha! That would have definitely ended in tears. Not that you’re all fun and smiles, mind, but we’ll get you there yet. First of all, laughing at crappy werewolf movies. Eat up and then settle in, we’re going to enjoy this.”

Derek looks as though he wants to say something, but then he gives into Stiles’ obviously superior commands and snags the last piece of pizza. 

It takes a while, but about half way through the film he starts relaxing and, to Stiles’ surprise, even gets really into slagging off about all the inaccuracies. When it turns out the channel is having a werewolf night, it’s not even a question that they’re going to keep watching. Stiles just makes a dash up the stairs to raid his secret stash of unhealthy goodies, and then they settle in to watch the next film. And then the one after that.

Thankfully Stiles’ dad has the nightshift, otherwise this might be hard to explain.

Watching horrible movies with Derek is fun, way more than Stiles would have ever expected, and he even learns something, to the point where he’s tempted to write it all down. It’s valuable information after all! Derek’s humour is sharp and biting, but Stiles also forms a new appreciation for his trademark deadpan, which is hilarious in the right context. With every film they both sink deeper into the cushions, until Stiles’ side is pressed entirely against Derek, who is one hot line next to him. Thoughts already turning sluggish, Stiles wonders whether that’s a sign Derek is running a fever or whether he’s just naturally a supernatural furnace. Before he can ask him that though, he nods off, head sinking to rest on Derek’s shoulder and only wakes up hours later. 

The TV has been turned off, but Derek is still there, sound asleep next to Stiles, or rather, half under him, as they’ve both slid down in slumber. He looks far younger with his face slack and not caught in a frown and Stiles pushes himself up on his elbows so he can study him properly. Even the eyebrows look less intimidating like this, instead they look more, well, sad. Stiles bites his lip and ever so carefully brushes away a curl of hair that has fallen into Derek’s eyes. There’s faint lines at their corners and Stiles remembers them crinkling up as Derek had laughed at one of Stiles’ stupid jokes. He can’t remember having seen Derek properly laugh ever before. Smile, sure, though most of those had been fake as shit, but laugh? A full belly, throw his head back laugh? Never. 

And it’s a shame. 

Stiles resolves there and then that he’s going to fix that. He’s going to make Derek Hale laugh and be happy, if it’s the last thing he does.

Starting tomorrow. There’s a vampire movie marathon on tomorrow night, surely that will offer some hilarity. Certainly if they show Twilight - Stiles can’t wait to hear Derek’s comments on Jacob and the whole imprinting business. 

If they are really lucky, there might even be a Kanima movie marathon in their future, but Stiles isn’t placing any bets on that. Vampires will do for now and they’ll figure out the Kanima thing separately. 

But for now sleep beckons him again. He considers moving upstairs into his bed, but Derek is warm and the stairs are cold and who’s to stop Derek from escaping without breakfast in the morning if Stiles does not literally lie on him, so with that reasoning in mind, he wriggles carefully until he’s found a more comfortable position and then closes his eyes again, letting himself be lulled in by the calm rhythm of Derek’s slow breaths. 

Tomorrow can deal with all the inevitable questions. For now they sleep. 

You can find the rest of my Sterekweek fic (also from years past) here!

[battle-scarred-raven]

RvB CarWash Fanfic: We Will Take It (Pt. 5)

Title: We Will Take It

Part: 5

Rating: Mature/Explicit (Canon typical Language, and things get pretty intimate later on)

Pairing: Carolina/Wash (other pairings acknowledged/hinted at)

Summary: When the shot comes along this time, dear Carolina, you will take it.

Inspired by Blood Gulch Blue from Singularity’s Soundtrack.

—

This isn't your first rodeo with another person.

Hell, it isn't even your first time with Wash. That had been been back after Hargrove had been defeated, and the war on Chorus had finally ended. You all partied hard, Tucker decided to activate the Temple of Procreation, because of course he did, and you had ended up with Wash. Kimball had come and joined you both later, something you allowed, because you’d have been lying if you told yourself that you didn't have a little bit of a thing for the former General. Wash had been okay with it, you all used protection, you all enjoyed yourselves.

Nothing more had been said about it, even now. You knew nothing could ever happen between you and Kimball again. Your lives were heading in two different directions; you were supposedly retiring and she had a whole planet to run as President now. But you couldn't help but secretly hope, dear Carolina, that something might happen between you and Wash again.

After everything you've been through together, you never imagine your wish might be granted. But it is; this is happening. Right here, right now.

Your movements with Wash are nowhere near your usual, dominant self. You have to constantly remind yourself that he is recovering still, that you need to take it slow with him. You want this, of course you do, but not at the cost of Wash’s wellbeing.

“David?” You murmur between languid kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I'm sure.” He answers, without hesitation.

“If I'm going too fast for you…-”

“Iz…” he cuts you off before you can finish, nuzzling your cheek lightly with the tip of his nose, “If I didn't want this as much as you do, then we wouldn't be doing this right now.”

“I know, I know.” You eventually relent quietly. “I just… don't want to hurt you accidentally.”

“You could never hurt me, Iz. We trust each other too much for that.”

But I did hurt you, you don't say. You don't want to reopen that wound and ruin the moment. You’ve already both talked about that back in the Everwhen, about why you had done what you had done. You didn't need to go over all that. Not again.

So you just kiss Wash once more, gently pushing him towards the bed. He surprisingly resists you, his calloused hands wandering down your body, grasping at the hem of your shirt. You don't fight it when he pulls back from you to remove the garment in one easy motion. You also can't help the shudder that courses through you as the cool air meets your suddenly bare skin.

“You’re… so beautiful, Iz.” He comments genuinely, idly running his hand along your exposed skin, tracing scars along the way. He looks almost thoughtful, like he's reminiscing old memories.

“I'm… really not-” you begin, only for your breath to hitch mid-sentence as Wash crouches down, slowly kissing down the side of your body.

You reach down, ruffling his grizzled blonde hair affectionately. You gasp and shudder again as his starts kissing your stomach, stopping just short above the line of your jeans. Your fingers curl deep into his hair instinctively.

“God, David…” You breathe heavily. If Wash could leave you like this now, Carolina, what were you going to be like after the main show?

An absolute mess, your brain supplies helpfully. In the best possible way.

A tugging at your at your trousers snaps you from your thoughts. You look down, only to see Wash staring up at you with questioning, almost puppy like eyes.

“May I?” His question is a soft, barely audible whisper, which is almost enough to make you melt right there and then.

“Only if you lose some clothes first.” You answer him, a slight smirk tugging at your lips.

A thoughtful look crosses his features, considering your proposition. “Okay.”

He rises, and your hands fall to his shirt. You give him a quick kiss before you start to remove the article of clothing, deliberately slow. When you are done, you throw the shirt behind you, next to yours. You repeat the slow motions of your hands against his battle-scarred skin next, drawing a soft whine from the other Freelancer.

“C-Carolina…” He struggles, stumbling over your codename. “D-Damn, Iz…”

You didn't think you would have that effect on Wash. It's been so long since you've let yourself go like this. The temple was nearly two years ago now, and that had just been a frenzy. Before that had been York, way back in Project Freelancer.

York. The thought of his name catches you off-guard for a moment. Wash notices something up with you immediately.

“You okay, Carolina?” He asks you quietly, his arms hugging your waist as he gazes at you in concern.

“It's nothing.” You are quick to assure him. “Just a memory, is all.”

He doesn't pry, bless him. You both know each other well enough by now to know what things elicit pain in you and the things that haunt you each night. No, he just just kisses you again, hands wandering up your back to unhook your bra. You let it fall down at your feet once he loosens the straps off, watching as his blue eyes drink you in.

You expect to feel vulnerable, with the top half of your body naked like this, but with Wash you feel completely safe and barely exposed at all. It feels… almost natural, and that thought makes you chew your lip in barely restrained excitement. If you weren’t aroused before, you definitely are now.

“It’s okay, Wash.” You whisper gently to him, realising belatedly that he’s waiting for your permission to continue. “You can touch me, if you want.”

There’s a slight delay before Wash responds. Not with words, but by moving his hands from your back straight to your breasts. Your breath hitches as he massages both mounds alternately, first the left side, then the other.  He squeezes both firmly after that, his thumbs gliding over your nipples, and you don’t even try to stop the breathy moan that falls from your lips without your permission.

“F-fu…-” The swear almost escapes your mouth, but that you do manage to stop. It wasn’t that you never swore; you just saw no need to most of the time. “God. Do that again…”

He obliges you, making more of an effort to play with your nipples this time. You never realised how sensitive they were until they met Wash’s seemingly expert hand. You are practically putty in his hands, to be moulded any which way he chose, and right now Wash is making you melt bonelessly against him.

Somewhere in your lust-filled mind, you dimly register Wash whining and groaning close to your ear. It doesn’t hit you why, not at first, until you are abruptly and acutely aware of something hard poking you in the thigh. You feel yourself blush slightly as the dots finally connect. Is he turned on just by the groaning, or is it specifically the fact that those sounds were coming from you?

You aren’t allowed to wonder for long as Wash starts kissing and sucking at your neck, drawing more sounds from you. Your fingers claw into his back, certain to leave marks. He hisses slightly, but doesn’t tell you to stop, lightly sinking his teeth into your skin. You deliberately grind against his erection with the inside of your thigh, and the teeth sink in a little deeper as Wash hisses again. You let out a soft gasp at the sudden sharp pain and you actually feel the other Freelancer wince and pull away.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” He apologises quickly. “I… I didn’t mean to… It’s just, your leg…”

You ruffle his hair gently, spiking it in all directions. “It’s fine, Wash.”

“But… you’re bleeding.” He points out, making to pull away.

You stop him, tugging him back with a sharp pull of your hand on his wrist. Your emerald eyes flick down to gaze at where he had bitten you and yes, he was indeed right. You were bleeding. You would never have noticed, not before he had pointed it out to you.

“It’s nothing.” You shake your head; not entirely true, it stings like shit now you are focusing on it but you don’t want to worry Wash further. “I’ve hurt myself doing far stupider things during training.”

He gives you a wide-eyed look, like he’s trying to work out whether you are being serious or not. “Wait… really?”

“Yeah.”

“But you trained with holo-targets.” Now his eyebrow raises; the result is almost comedic to you, Carolina. “How does that even work?”

“You’d… be surprised.”

A chuckle escapes you. Wash joins in shortly thereafter, and you both laugh for a full minute. It’s a sound you find you rather enjoy, and a moment you will treasure. Just laughing about silly little things like this.

“Trust you to make even the training targets hurt.” Wash snorts loudly, tucking a strand of your fiery red hair behind your ear before he shakes his head at you, a big grin on his face.

You smash your lips into his in order to wipe the smug expression from him, but Wash is more than ready for it. His hands grip your hips, pushing down your jeans and underwear until they pool at your ankles, whereupon you kick them off haphazardly. Your own hands quickly make equally short work of the pair of joggers Wash was wearing.

“Iz…” He thumbs your jawline.

You gaze up at him. “Hm?”

He doesn’t answer again, merely threading his fingers through your hair, gently pulling it from its ponytail, allowing it all to flow messily behind your back. He looks like he wants to say something, but he refrains. You know that look; it usually meant that he had a sentence, but had forgotten what it was, and was about to say something else.

He soon proves you correct. “Your hair is so… smooth.” He ruffles his fingers in it for a little longer, something that you find comforting. “It’s really nice.”

“Mmmhm.” You hum, closing your eyes in content. “I like it when you do that.”

“I’ll be sure to do it more often, then.” His hand shifts from your hair back to one of your breasts again, fondling it slightly. “Are you ready for this?”

“God, yes,” you nod your head vigorously, “though I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“If we take it slow, I think I will be fine.” He reassures you.

You lightly push him down onto the bed. You will take that.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (13/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [AO3]

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REGINA

“Ok, people, this party isn’t going to plan itself. Let’s get cracking.”

The weekend had finally arrived, and after five days of refraining from banging her head against a brick wall for all the progress she was making in the town hall, Regina was more than ready for a distraction, and if that distraction happened to involve planning a massive party, then so be it.

Robin had already told her that he thought she was mad if this was what constituted downtime for her, but organising things like this was what Regina lived for. There was a reason why she’d always been the one that anyone in the town council went to whenever they needed any advice for planning local social events. She was also the one that they went to when they needed advice for planning personal social events.

The kitchen table had been cleared of all Tilly and Robyn’s protesting paraphernalia, and the two girls, deciding that party planning really wasn’t their forte, were over at the Gold house, spending some time with Tilly’s beloved godfather before she had to return home. Robyn was disappointed that Tilly could not stay for the party, but she accepted that Tilly did have a family of her own that she wanted to get back to. Maybe something could be arranged for her to pay another flying visit for the big bash. Robyn certainly deserved to be able to step out with her girlfriend on her arm.

Mary Margaret and Ariel had come over to assist with the planning; Mary Margaret was just as grateful for a day away from work-related troubles as Regina was. Whilst she’d not intended going back to work full time just yet and had only raised her head above the parapet to intervene whilst she could, she didn’t trust Sidney to handle the whole Storybrooke endeavour in her absence so she’d ended up working a lot more than she’d bargained for.

“Do you think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew, here?” she asked presently, looking at all Regina’s binders and all her own paperwork. “Ok, scratch that, this is definitely not more than Regina can chew. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?”

“Of course not.” Ariel reached across the table and patted Mary Margaret’s hand. “You’ve got this. It’s going to be awesome.”

The charitable trust that Mary Margaret had organised to be set up to support and protect Storybrooke’s green spaces was now up and running, and Regina had decided that the best way to spread awareness and begin fundraising for the venture was to throw a big party at the Blanchard Group’s expense. Everyone loved a gala and everyone loved to be seen to be doing good, especially in the local community. It was the perfect ruse. Mary Margaret had been all too happy to agree and fund the thing, but now that it had actually come to organising it, she appeared to be having second thoughts.

“Are you sure that you need me here?” she asked. “I’m perfectly happy to let you make all the decisions and I’ll just sign the checks. I’ve never been good at planning things. Regina, you should know this. You’ve planned every single occasion I’ve ever hosted since we became friends.”

“Well, yes, but this is different. You’re the figurehead of this operation, we need your input.”

“Oh God. Do I have to be?” Mary Margaret looked down at herself. “I’m the worst figurehead ever. Look at me. I’ve still got baby brain. I put odd socks on this morning, and I drove here in my slippers by accident.”

Regina looked down at Mary Margaret’s fluff-encased feet and shrugged. “You’ll be fine. It’s a night out for you and David, without needing to worry about the kids. I know that motherhood is a huge part of your identity, but you need to take some time for yourself, and I think that this is a great opportunity for you to do so.”

“Taking time for myself normally equates to eight hours uninterrupted sleep in our household,” Mary Margaret muttered. “Still, I guess I see where you’re coming from. So, what do we need to organise?”

The short answer, of course, was everything, but Regina didn’t say that for fear of scaring Mary Margaret away for good.

It was a long time since the three of them had all got together to plan something like this. It would have been great if they could have got Belle in on the act as well, but she had declined, still feeling like the odd fish in their circle of friends. Although she was getting used to the circles that she now moved in having married Gold, and although Ariel was trying her best to make sure that she felt comfortable in them, she still preferred her comfort zone. Maybe she was coming down with something; she’d sounded pretty rough on the phone when Regina had called earlier to announce the planning meeting.

Robin came into the room bearing a box of fresh breakfast pastries from the bakery, and he promptly made himself scarce again having seen Regina’s huge stack of papers. One day she’d talk him round, but today was not that day.

“OK, first thing first is obviously the guest list. It’ll be a ticketed event and open to everyone who’s willing to make the involuntary voluntary donation to the Storybrooke Green Trust to get a ticket, but we ought to make a point of inviting a few bigwigs so that they can spread the word. It’s not entirely true that all publicity is good publicity, but no publicity is bad publicity. Mary Margaret, you can invite Sidney and the rest of the board. I think it might be cathartic to watch them squirm when people gush about how wonderful the initiative is.”

Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow. “You do realise that the board is made up of mostly middle-aged, mostly white men? They won’t squirm, they’ll just take all the credit for my idea.”

“Good point. Well made. You may not want to be in the spotlight, but we can’t have someone else claiming it on your behalf when they have no right to.” Regina sighed. “Ariel, can you make a shortlist of possible candidates from your contact list?”

“Absolutely. The maritime trading industry will certainly keep our end up.”

“I know the right government people to schmooze.” Regina checked off her list. “The big ballroom at the Palace Hotel, I think, as a venue. If we’re going to do it, we might as well go all out. No sense in trying to get out there and being half-hearted about it. Burst onto the scene with a bang, not a whimper, I say. Make an entrance.”

Ariel raised an eyebrow. “That’s something that your family has always been good at.”

Regina thought of her mother and her stepsister and their tendency towards the drama queen end of the spectrum. She shrugged. “What can I say? Theatricality’s in the blood. Even if Zelena’s not actually blood. She absorbed it by osmosis.”

“Let’s not talk about Zelena.” Ariel made a face. “I know I can’t hope that she won’t turn up, but can we try and sequester her in a corner somewhere? Actually, that’s not fair on you. You can hardly enjoy these things if you’re shepherding your relatives all the time.”

“Everyone knows that you’re not really meant to enjoy your own parties,” Regina said. For the most part she did enjoy her own parties; she wouldn’t be so fond of planning them and giving them if she didn’t. “It’s all right, I’m used to it by now. Besides, if we can get Carrie and Ursula to come then they’ll be more than happy to spend the entire night trolling my sister.”

“Give Carrie enough gin and she’ll troll anyone. She and Cameron are lethal when they get together under the influence.” Ariel gave a fond sigh, no doubt remembering parties past.

The next couple of hours were taken up mainly with eating pastries and making very long lists of things that needed to be done and people who needed to be called. Robin kept coming in at intervals and refilling coffee and tea, and by the time Ariel and Mary Margaret left, Regina was satisfied in a job well done.

Robin poked his head around the kitchen door. “Is it safe to come in and make a sandwich?”

Regina laughed. “Yes, of course. You could have come in and made a sandwich before, you know.”

“Well, I didn’t want to disturb you too much when you were all so intent in your pursuits. How’s it going?”

“We’re getting there. I’m sure it’s going to be an amazing evening. Don’t worry, all you need to do is turn up and say hello to three people, then you can go and stand in a corner next to the buffet table keeping Belle company whilst the rest of us schmooze.”

“That makes it sound like Belle will be monopolising the buffet table,” Robin said. “But since you always pull out all the stops when it comes to catering, I can’t say I’d be sorry to join her.” He paused. “Is Belle all right? Marian said she’s seemed pretty stressed for a while now.”

Regina shrugged. “I know that she and Cameron are trying for a baby, and I know Belle really wants to be a mommy.” She fell to thinking about motherhood; she had never had any desire to have a baby of her own, but she adored her stepson and couldn’t imagine a life without Roland in it, nor a life without her niece. She knew that Belle loved Bae and Tilly, but at the same time, Regina could understand her wanting a baby of her own.

She thought of Belle sounding rough over the phone this morning. It would be ironic if, after all she’d said, Belle was pregnant after all.

[fanforfanatic]

The Orange Thing

Relationship: Dean x Reader Rating: Mature-ish.  Warnings: attempted crack [emphasis on attempted!] A/N: This is for @trexrambling and @wheresthekillswitch #crackitbaby challenge! Special thank you to Jess for answering all of my questions and being an overall delight! 

~1.9k words

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You’ve been living in the bunker long enough to have made a plethora of discoveries (actual magical beans, shrink ray (defective), home videos (exactly what it sounds like)). Not one captured your attention, your fascination, quite as much as the Orange Phenomenon.

If you’re honest with yourself, you might have gone a tad bit overboard. A smidge, really. But you couldn’t help your mind from straying from whatever task you had at hand, at any given time, to fantasize about the orange thing.

When you first come across it, it’s mostly an accident. Or at the very least a coincidence. Or maybe the Gods orchestrated the whole thing as a gift for all you’ve done for humanity. You don’t know. You don’t care. You’re too busy thinking about it.

It happens as you’re sitting at the table adjacent to the kitchen. You’ve got a sour expression on your face when Dean walks in with an empty mug.

“Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?” Dean snickers and your frown deepens. “What’s going on?”

You nod to the plated orange in front of you. “I started to peel it and I already have the stench sticking to my skin like it’s not planning on going anywhere this decade.”

“It’s twenty seventeen. Decade’s almost over at least.” Dean chuckles, because he thinks he’s funny- which he definitely is not-, and places his mug in the sink. “You hate it that bad?”

“Yes. Won’t go away no matter how many times I wash my hands. It distracts me during hunts!”

“Oh well, if it’s a safety hazard,” He intones dramatically with an easy smile on his face as he settles in front of you and drags the plate across the table top towards himself.

He foregoes the knife you’d started to use and digs into the slit you’d already made, tearing the skin of the fruit right off.

You watch his capable hands work the orange, flexing minutely as they remove the peel. You watch his ridiculously long fingers pluck the white string off and find your mouth watering. He pushes his thumbs between two wedges and splits the fruit open.

Immediately, juice oozes, coating his fingers. A drop runs down his palm and past his wrist. He catches it with his tongue somewhere on his forearm, licking all the way back up to erase the rivulet made by the errant dribble.

You swallow thickly, your eyes trained on the way Dean distractedly licks his lips to taste the traces of nectar and, in the foreground, on the way a large hand cups one half of the orange to free up his nimble fingers so they can remove the core stuck at the center of the other half. Then he’s separating a segment and extending his, still sticky with juice, hand to you in offering.

It takes you a solid moment to understand the gesture. Long enough that Dean frowns and parts his plump lips to ask if everything is alright. He thinks maybe something else was bothering you, other than your unpeeled orange.

You shakily accept the chunk before he really starts to worry, the tips of your fingers brushing against his slick ones. You bring the fruit to your mouth just as Dean brings his tacky fingers to his own and you all but choke on your own saliva.

He starts with his thumb, wrapping his lips around his first knuckle so that they form a perfect pout. He drags the digit out slowly, humming at the taste, and finally sucking on the pad of it.

“Sweet,” Dean says.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, maybe he isn’t expecting one, he just stick his tongue out and licks up the side of his pinky, flicking his tongue at the tip, then buries his ring finger in his mouth.

You do choke this time. Quietly. Dean doesn’t notice.

He makes his finger reappear but it’s a slowest magic trick in the history of time and space and you know, you know, that his tongue is lapping at it inside his mouth. He tears another wedge off the fruit and you think maybe he’s giving you time to recuperate, to gather your bearings or something sensible like that, but you’re wrong.

Dean wants to torture you.

He pulls half the fruit inside his mouth with a sharp suck and he has to know what he’s doing when he bites into it. Has to know it’s going to burst and drip and… He has to know what it’s doing to you. He seemingly doesn’t. Dean just pushes the half he’s bitten off to his cheek so his tongue can comfortably seek the wayward drop above his chin. He chews and looks at you, his brows knitting.

You realise you’ve still got your own slice poised at your lips and shove its entirety into your mouth in your haste to not appear like a goddamn freak. It doesn’t work because Dean chortles at your antics then licks the pillows he calls lips again, leaving them wet and glimmering.

Nothing has ever tasted quite as good as the orange in your mouth does just then. The way it bursts in your mouth is just… It’s good. You want more.

Dean hands you another piece then takes one for himself and on and on it goes. Has Dean always had such an oral fixation? Is this new? Have you never noticed? Does he lowkey want to be a pornstar? Does he look at himself eat oranges in the mirror when busty asian beauties just won’t do the trick? Would it be weird if you took a video?

Oh God.

You have the hots for Dean.

How long have you had the hots for Dean?

No. No. No. You have simply fallen victim to his objectively absurdly attractive looks. And this orange thing. This orange thing is definitely a capital-T Thing.

When Dean wipes his hands, each individual finger obscenely and his mouth with the paper towel you had brought to the table, you’re jealous of it. You’re jealous of a paper towel.

He leaves the kitchen, humming, like nothing’s happened. Like he hasn’t wrecked you. Obliterated you. He leaves you squirming and uncomfortable and absolutely confused.

 You keep buying oranges. For research. Are you having a slight crisis? Sure. Have you considered packing up and moving to one edge of the country, whichever is furthest from the bunker? Absolutely. Have you noticed how he chases the straws of his fast food soft drinks with his tongue, how he’ll hold it between perfect teeth to smile around it at you, how his lips look plusher than ever pursed around it as he sucks- YES. You’ve noticed. You keep buying oranges anyway. You’re not a damn idiot. You know what you’ve uncovered.

 Dean keeps peeling them for you, because he’s a pal. He doesn’t mind, really, only time he gets unprocessed food in his system, anyway. At least he didn’t mind. That was a few weeks ago.

Eventually, he minds.

“Just stop buying damn oranges, man. There are other fruit.” Man.

 You buy a crate of clementines. He glares at you and you glare at them because they don’t have the same effect. So what is the point?

 You let it die. You realise that you’re enabling a bad habit. That if you’re ever going to stop thinking about how Dean’s mouth would feel on you- anywhere on you- you’d have to stop watching him put it to work. If you’re going to stop imagining him peeling your clothes like he does oranges you need to stop watching his tan hands.

Months go by and you just about forget about the whole thing. You almost start to believe that it never really happened. Dean peeling oranges and featuring in hand porn? Doesn’t sound very real to you.

But then Dean plunks down in front of you at the kitchen table, where it all began, and produces two oranges.

“S’been a while,” He says.

“Yeah.” Your voice doesn’t waver.

The whole circus starts up again. Dean’s elegant fingers. His strong hands. Fruit disappearing into his mouth. Lips. Licking. Tongue. The languid trail of escaping juice.

You can’t handle it. It’s better than you remember. Better than that dream you had about it two weeks ago. You can’t handle it. You can’t.

Your hands slam down onto the table before you’ve really given your body approval for the movement. Dean freezes, his hand suspended in the air halfway to you. Your eye twitches involuntarily.

“You okay?”

“Am I okay?” You reiterate calmly. “Am I okay?” Less calmly. “NO. Dean. I’m not-” You make air quotes. “Okay. You know what else isn’t okay? You. You’re sick, you hear me? Pretending like you don’t know what you do to-”

“Woah woah, hey hey hey. You wanna run that by me again? Maybe dial down the crazy and amp up the making-sense.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not playing anything. Dude, what’s wrong with you?” Dude.

“I’ll show you what’s wrong with me.” You threaten.

You reach across the table for the second orange and Dean only flinches a little at your suddenness. You squawk at the thick unyielding skin of the fruit and drop it back to the table. You march to the kitchen area to retrieve a knife that’s probably bigger than necessary. Dean doesn’t mention it. Dean is a smart man.

Back in your seat, you chop away the top and bottom of the orange, grunting all the while, then quarter it with shallow slices. You remove the peels, the whole process taking an absurd amount of time and taking away from the urgency of the point you’re trying to make.

Idly, you’re grateful that Dean is being patient. Idly, you’re also aware of how ludicrously you’re behaving.

Finally, you tear it into halves and it comes apart easily. You stare down at it, almost offended. It’s the driest orange you’ve ever laid eyes on. Driest citrus fruit you’ve ever laid eyes on. The universe is coming for you. It had gifted you with orange-eating-Dean and you took advantage, disrespected it and now you are shunned.

Your frustration peeks, you look Dean in the eyes and squeeze both halves of the orange in your hands while saying, “This is what’s wrong with you.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and it’s not like you can blame him, you’ve just crushes a now oozing orange in your hands like the goddamn Hulk.

No one can say you aren’t persistent because you push forward anyway and do what he’s been doing. His own perfectly crafted torture tactic. Only you don’t think you really do it justice. Your lips aren’t as pouty as his, your fingers not as slender as they probably should be, but you put in extra effort to make up for it. Licking and sucking your fingers mockingly, muttering between laps, “I’m Dean, ouh look at me, I’m the sex god of oranges, I have an oral fixation, it’s my ultimate weapon against the forces of evil which is why I’m always honing the skill. I-”

“First,” Dean interrupts you. “Shut up. Second, I have never done any of that. Are you saying I’ve been seducing you with oranges?”

“When you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

Dean’s eyes, you notice, are blown with lust. There’s a tense moment, where all is still. Except for the orange juice trickling down your arm.

You wonder if Dean will lick it for you.

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