#mary writes fic

[lifesizehysteria]

I have two versions of the same paragraph that I like and want to keep but can’t figure out how to combine them. 😵‍💫🫠 this is so frustrating!

[enchantedsugden]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Emmerdale Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden Characters: Robert Sugden, Aaron Dingle Additional Tags: Angst, Mentions of Violence, Basically this is about the wrench incident, Established Relationship, Post Reunion 2018, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 2 of this love came back to me Summary:

an encounter with pete leaves aaron to think about some things.

[thatdammchickennugget]

Take Care Of My Girl

pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader x lorenzo berkshire

warnings - cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, unprotected anal, threesome, some cringey dirty talk, MINORS DNI || 18+

wordcount - 2.7k

a/n - I just saw that I reached 1.000 followers that's insane! I wanna thank every single one of you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and following little old me, it really means so much to me <3 to celebrate I finally pushed myself to finish this, I hope you like it <3

You should not have played with him this morning. But dressed in a pretty short black dress and feeling on top of the world with your hair falling down your back in perfect silky locks, you saw your chance to rile him up.

Knowing that you only had a couple of minutes left before you had to leave for the annual ball hosted by the Berkshire’s at the end of every summer, you grasped at the opportunity to tease your boyfriend.

He looked like a dream in his black suit and emerald collared shirt, hair tousled perfectly.

Mattheo was fixing his tie in front of the wide gold-rimmed mirror in his bedroom when you re-emerged from the bathroom after putting the finishing touches on your make-up.

Pressing your chest against his back, you snaked your arms around his middle, your palms rubbing along the edge of his slacks, middle and pointer finger sliding inside the tight-fitting material to play with the hem of his boxers.

One of your hands strayed from its path to slide up over his chest, soothing some of the tension from his tight muscles.

He finished fixing his tie as you scattered slow kisses along his shoulder blades, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror when your fingers found their way into his underwear.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he quipped, the corner of his lip quirking up as he studied the way you batted your lashes. He was fully aware you were up to something.

Cheek squished against his arm, you pushed your lips into a pout. “I need you, Matty.”

You did not miss the mischievous glint in his stare. It was never hard to rile him up, at least it wasn’t hard for you.

One of his hands found its place on your wrist, stopping your hand from sliding down even further. “What exactly do you need from me, baby?”

Pushing up onto your toes to nip at his ear, you made sure to let your breath hit the spot behind his ear. His weak spot, the spot that could make him melt beneath you if you targeted it just right.

“I need your cock.”

Through the mirror, you watched him bite down on his lower lip. He started pushing your hand closer to their destination, speaking in a low voice. “Why don’t you go ahead and show me just how needy you are?”

You happily obliged, sliding a hand over his length, relishing in the sound of the small gasp leaving his lips. One of his hands reached behind him, grasping your ass and pulling you even closer against his chest.

Slowly stroking him, you watched his face in the mirror, waiting for the moment he closed his eyes and leaned his head back before pulling your hand away and leaving a quick, teasing slap on his backside.

His eyes flew back open, finding yours with a confused expression. Sending him your cheeriest smile, you went to grab your bag. “Okay, let’s go. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”

A knowing smirk made its way onto his face. That was the moment you should have realised he would retaliate, but you were feeling much too good about yourself to notice it.

You made your entrance at the Berkshire manor, greeting whoever Mattheo deemed important enough, and made polite conversation with whoever came up to talk to you. Soon Enzo arrived, and your boyfriend was pulling you along behind him as he followed his friend to the library, happy to get away from the crowd.

You took your place on one of the sofas, your thighs pressing against his as you leaned into him, watching as Enzo threw himself down on the sofa across from you. The boys instantly opened up a discussion on  Quidditch, so you took the moment to relax, already exhausted from socialising this much.

At first, you didn't even notice when Mattheo’s hand edged higher and higher up your thigh, but once it finally made its way beneath your dress, you instinctively clenched your legs together. Mattheo was not having it, his grip tightening as he pulled them apart.

You froze in place when his fingertips ghosted along the hem of your panties, checking  if Enzo had noticed what he was up to. Thankfully, he was not paying attention to you whatsoever, completely focused on what Mattheo was saying.

There was a hint of desperation in Mattheo’s touch now as he ran his thumb along the top of your panties. You caught his little smirk when he felt the wet patch beneath his finger, rubbing slow circles over your clit.

Your legs opened a bit more, silently asking him to continue despite the feeling of shame washing over you. His touch on your sensitive bud had goosebumps forming all over your body, but you didn’t  stop him. Not yet anyway.

Closing your eyes, you thought about his soft lips on your neck and his strong hands on your hips. About his powerful thrusts inside of you, and a new excitement washed over you. By the time he pushed your drenched underwear to the side and slid a finger inside of you, you had completely forgotten there was someone else in the room.

Mattheo began pumping his finger in and out at an agonisingly slow place, his thumb still drawing circles on your clit. You couldn’t  help the moan that slipped past your lips. Grinding your teeth together, you embraced the pleasurable feeling of your oncoming orgasm until you heard a soft groan from the other sofa.

Your eyes snapped open only to meet Enzo’s, staring back at you, his eyes wide. Your cheeks flushed  a bright red in embarrassment at being caught, though you felt yourself unwillingly clench around Mattheo's finger.

Your hand went to grab your boyfriend's wrist, trying to withdraw his hand from your core. He responded by pushing a second finger into your tight hole, increasing the pace of his thrusting digits. Another moan tumbled from your mouth when your gaze shifted, dropping down to find Enzo rubbing himself over his pants.

Suddenly everything became too much. Too overwhelming. The pleasure building between your legs was rising quickly, the intensity of Mattheo’s fingers pushing deep into your centre had you moaning louder and louder. Dropping your head back, you clutched at his arm tightly, your nails sure to be leaving marks on his skin.

"Oh, god," you cried out. Mattheo paused, his fingers withdrawing slightly as he looked down at you, his brows furrowed.

Then the corner of his lips curled up before he pulled them out completely, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, tasting your juices. "Mmm...so sweet."

With a whimper, you grabbed at his collar to pull him closer. But before your lips could meet, the door flew open, a familiar head of blonde hair appearing in the doorway.

"Mattheo, come on. My father wants to introduce us to someone," Draco told him, not even waiting for a reply before he was out in the hallway again.

Your jaw dropped when your boyfriend actually stood up, making his way to the door. "Really? You're going to leave me right now?"

He just looked at you with a cheeky grin, before turning to Enzo, making the other boy rush to attempt to cover the bulge in his pants. "Take care of my girl for me while I'm gone?" he said with a wink, pulling the door closed behind him.

Silence fell over the room. All you could hear was the heavy breathing of Enzo and your own erratic breaths. He had placed a pillow on his lap, refusing to meet your eyes, his face still flushed. A newfound boldness took over you at his flustered state and you pushed yourself off your seat, slowly making your way to where he was sitting.

He gulped when you came to a stop in front of him, your thighs brushing against his knees. You caught his eyes raking down your body, halting at your hips where your short dress was still pushed up, your panties clear on display.

Then they lifted up and found yours, full of heat.

"Are you going to?" you asked him in a low voice, almost a whisper. "Are you going to take care of me?"

His hands hesitantly rose to touch the side of your thighs, his touch leaving goosebumps in their path as they travelled up your exposed skin. When they found their destination at your hips, he hooked his fingers under your panties, sliding them down and revealing your soaked core.

He licked his lips, a nervous look crossing his features as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your hips rocked forward, desperate to pull another groan from him.

Slowly, Enzo brought one hand up to cup your breast, kneading it softly through the thin material of your dress before he leaned in closer, his lips leaving soft kisses along your neck. You let out a shaky breath, grinding down harder against his growing bulge. Pressing his free hand between your legs, his fingertips teasingly brushed along your folds.

A gasp escaped you as you started rocking against him, needy for more. And more he gave. Steadily, Enzo teased your sensitive bud with his talented fingers. His tongue leaving wet trails down your neck, his lips lingering against your ear. "I’ll take really good care of you. I'll make you feel so good," he rasped.

It was like he had flipped a switch, all the tension that had been simmering underneath came pouring out as he captured your lips with his. Two of his fingers pushed into you, pumping in and out at a rapid pace while his other hand pulled down the front of your dress.

Enzo's lips pulled back, quickly attaching themselves back to your skin and trailing down to your exposed breasts. Your head thrown back, the loud moans now tumbled out of you freely. "That's it, love. Let me make you feel good," he mumbled against the soft skin around your nipple, before taking the hardened peak into his mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you moaned loudly, your climax exploding as his teeth grazed over your sensitive nipple, body convulsing around his fingers. Enzo’s finger’s slowed their pace and he pulled you back into another kiss, his tongue running along your lower lip, until you finally collapsed against his chest.

You took a moment to come down from your high before you started sliding your hands down his chest towards the button of his pants. His eyes widened as your fingers made quick work unbuttoning them, one hand slipping under the waistband to stroke him over the material of his underwear.

A sigh left his mouth as your fingers worked on his swollen cock, eager for some release. Enzo groaned out your name, as you pushed the restraining material down,his whole body shuddering with pleasure when you took him into your hand. You smiled smugly as you continued to pump him,  his hips thrusting forwards in response. 

Pulling his head back by grasping some of his hair, you held his gaze while lowering yourself down onto his tip, relishing in how his hands gripped onto your hips tightly.  You started rocking your hips slowly, teasing his tip, sliding it along your folds. 

He growled and bucked up against you, his body shaking with the pleasure you were bringing him. Your mouth left open mouthed kisses along his neck , sucking and biting along his sensitive skin. Enzo’s grip tightened on your hips, pulling you impossibly close to himself.

You slid further down and he gasped sharply, his fingers pushing into your skin as he pushed you down, fully driving his erection inside you.  Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you began rocking your hips faster, one of his hands sliding down to find your clit. 

He groaned in pleasure as he slammed harder into you, the friction sending sparks through your entire being. Enzo’s breathing was becoming more laboured, each thrust causing him to moan and cry out your name.

The pressure building within you threatened to burst from inside of you, and your toes curled, when you heard the door creak open behind you. Your hips stopped rocking and your hands squeezed Enzo’s shoulder blades. Both of you froze at the sound of footsteps coming closer.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Mattheo rasped into your ear when he came to a stop behind you. "Come on, keep going." 

Your whole body stiffened at his words and your fingers dug deeper into Enzo’s shoulders. Enzo met your eyes, an unsure look on his face and his jaw clenched.  Slowly his hips started to rock up again, his movements slower than before.

Enzo’s breathing grew heavier as your hips started moving against him faster. You felt one of Mattheo's hands on your hips, pushing you down to meet Enzo's thrusts, the other coming down to smack your ass.

Mattheo let out a low chuckle at your yelp when his palm met your skin, the noise only fueling your arousal. A loud moan left Enzo’s mouth at your reaction. Mattheo's hand came up to your face, thump running over your bottom lip. "Open up, baby."

You obeyed instantly, opening your mouth to wrap your lips around his finger. You let out a small whine when he pulled it back out, resulting in another slap to your sensitive skin. Then a gasp tumbled from your mouth as he slowly pushed his saliva covered thump against the tight ring of your ass.

"Fucking hell..." Enzo breathed out when he slipped out of you and then slammed back into you again, intently watching your face as Mattheo slowly pushed his finger deeper. 

As your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a louder moan, you felt Mattheo bite down on your shoulder, now pumping his finger into your ass in an agonising rhythm. Your whole body arched and shook as you felt your release getting closer with every pump of his finger. 

"Are you ready, good girl?" Mattheo nipped at your ear, the warm breath hitting your neck sending a shiver down your spine.

"Yes, please, Matty," you whined, leaning back against his chest as your eyes remained on Enzo's flushed face.

Your boyfriend muttered a quick lubrication charm before throwing his wand on the sofa behind him, replacing his finger with his already leaking tip. Your eyes clenched shut at the pleasurable pain when Mattheo slowly pushed himself into you, rocking into you gently before picking up his pace.

"God...fuck...fuck...yes!" you cried out, grabbing Enzo's biceps tightly, your nails digging in as they both started thrusting into you in sync, your muscles contracting around them. Your body trembled and your vision started fading in and out as your brain grew fuzzy. Everything faded out except the feeling of their bodies pressed against you, their moans filling the room as they pounded into you and you let the orgasm wash over you, Enzo still rubbing shapes into your sensitive bud.

Enzo cried out as he felt you clench around him,  his own body tensing as a rush of pleasure rushed through him. He let out another guttural groan as his release followed right behind yours, shooting his seed deep inside you before his hips jerked forward one final time.

Mattheo's thrust soon became even more erratic  and sloppy, his body meeting yours with heavy gasps. His teeth sunk back into the skin of your shoulder as he rode out his high. Panting in pleasure, his hands pulled you back against his chest.

You slumped against him, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. Your chest ached as your heart beat frantically against your ribcage. You buried your face into the crook of Enzo's neck for a moment. Then you felt yourself being lifted off of Enzo's lap, Mattheo gently laying you down on the sofa next to the other boy.

Your boyfriend grabbed his wand, non-verbally casting a spell to clean the both of you up before sitting down himself and pulling you up onto his legs, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"You can go now," he snapped at Enzo, who quickly scrambled to pull his pants back up and leave the room. You let out a soft laugh at his flustered expression, resting your head on Mattheo's chest.

Mattheo leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head, asking with a teasing tone, "Was this what you had in mind this morning?"

Mattheo + Enzo Taglist: @slytherinboysappreciation @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @nighttimewrites @starsval @gillyweeds @sir-elian @harryslittlebitch @thatblackthorn @gayforyelena @whoreforfictionalmen18 @darkacademicvibes @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @sbrn0905 @atadoddinnit @helpimhopelesslyinlove @carav4l

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[caught-a-dragonfly]

Red Alert

[zepskies]

Down to the Crust

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

Request: Since reading your imagine, "Dean Gives You an Impossible Choice," I have not been able to shake it, one point specifically. I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is learning to bake pies for Dean. She's best friends with the boys, but she and Dean have undisclosed feelings for each other…

AN: You guys know I love baking shenanigans lol. This one is set at a particular time during season 14…

Song Inspo: “Joy” by Blackstreet

Word Count: 2.6K

Tags/Warnings: Flangst, hurt/comfort, hint of spice~

No, no, no, no, NO!

You did your best to scoop out the salt you’d just poured into the flour.

You can’t really be this dumb, you berated yourself. How could you confuse one white powdery thing for another? Salt vs. sugar—it wasn’t that hard!

You shook your head in simmering frustration. You decided to just dump the whole contents of the bowl, salty flour and all, into the garbage. You’d have to start again…for the third time now. 

Frankly, this was getting ridiculous. You could make cookies, brownies, even cupcakes (with homemade buttercream).

How hard could a pie really be?

Maybe it was the telltale tremble of nerves in your hands.

Maybe it was because you had an ulterior motive for doing this, besides your formerly pure love of baking.

Maybe because this promised dessert was for one pie-loving glutton who was set to come upstairs from the garage any minute. Or at least, whenever Dean’s stomach finally called him back to the kitchen.

Though recently, he hadn’t been all that hungry. He’d denied your friendly offer of a snack earlier (since when did he turn down taquitos?), and he’d barely touched the pizza you guys had for dinner yesterday. (One slice? The man could eat half a pizza in one sitting. To your knowledge, there wasn’t a pie he didn’t like.)

Dean hid it well, but he wasn’t on his game. You knew why, of course, but…

You sighed and measured out the last of your flour for a fresh try. If you messed this one up, you’d literally have to wash your hands of this mission. And yes, it had become mission fucking impossible, as far as you were concerned.

Once the flour was safely mixed with a cup of sugar, you cut up some chilled butter to create the pastry dough. You followed the instructions in the recipe even more carefully this time, from your open laptop on the kitchen counter. The keyboard was dusted with flour at this point, along with your hands and arms. You even felt it under your nails and in your hair, but you didn’t care.

You were going to make this damn pie if it killed you.

You’d even bought real cherries, not the canned filling. It meant more work for you in removing all the pits inside them, but this was worth the extra labor.

However, as it just occurred to you, you’d left them simmering with some sugar, lemon juice, and cornstarch in a pan, around the time of your second attempt at pastry dough.

“No!” you gasped, hastening to open the lid and checking the saucepan.

Oh, thank God, you thought, seeing that the cherry filling wasn’t bubbling over. It actually looked like the proper thickened consistency and smelled delicious. You just needed to do some more stirring.

An hour or so later, you had successfully shaped the dough, chilled and poured in the filling, and covered it with the (embarrassingly uneven) lattice work on top.

“Whatever. The man still believes in the Five-Second Rule. He’ll eat this,” you muttered as you slid the pie in. You even remembered to do an egg wash on top. You admired it for a moment in its raw pastry form, then closed the lid to the oven with a nod of satisfaction.

You wore a wide smile, feeling accomplished, until you turned around and saw the disaster you’d made of the kitchen. Flour was dusted across the counters, a pile of dishes in the sink, cherry remnants in the pan and dripping across the stove, and so much more. You winced at the sight.

“What the hell is this?” came a gruff voice.

Your gaze drew to the doorway with a sharp intake of breath. Dean was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a bewildered expression on his face.

The man had a thing about people in “his kitchen.” You got ready to placate him with your hands raised as you took a step towards him, but then you gasped.

“Shit!” you yelped, slipping in some egg that had dropped on the floor. Your hand accidentally banged the oven on the way down, but your head also hit the corner of the wall.   

You ended up sprawled on your side across the dirty floor, dazed and winded. Dean hurried to your side with one of those frowns that always made you want to smooth the wrinkle between his brows.

He braced your shoulder, almost but not quite touching your hip with his free hand.

“Damn. You okay? This ain’t a slip n’ slide,” he said.

Your lips twitched at a smile, but you sighed. “I’m okay.”

“You hit your head?” he asked, beginning to help you up slowly.

“A little,” you admitted. “Nothing the old bag of frozen carrots in the freezer won’t cure.”

Dean grimaced, but after he made sure you were settled on your feet, he checked the back of your head. You tried not to blush (and revel) at the feeling of his fingers slipping into your hair, even if he was trying to feel for a knot back there.

He was close enough that you could almost feel his body heat through the black shirt he wore, for once without the outer layer of plaid. He smelled like grease and sweat; likely he’d been working on Baby.

Were you weird for kind of liking that smell?

“Well, I don’t feel any goose eggs, so you’re probably fine,” he remarked.

“Thanks, House. Is that your final prognosis?” you asked, beginning to smirk.

Dean’s gaze met yours in amusement.

“Tell you what,” he said, “If you get a headache, I give you full permission to take one of the fun little pills I’ve got in my dresser.”

You laughed. “If it’s not Vicodin, I don’t want it.”

House M.D. was one of those shows you and Dean liked to watch together, along with Game of Thrones, and even Smallville, on occasion.

Dean smiled slightly. But even that was a small feat, and something you hadn’t seen from him in weeks. Not a real smile, anyway. Before today, nothing you’d tried had been working to brighten his mood.

Not pizza Fridays. Not letting him listen to the same damn Zeppelin album without complaint for that eight-hour ride on the last hunt. Not trying to gouge his level of broodiness and offering to hang out, to be a listening ear if he needed it.

He still hadn’t taken you up on the last one. While that hurt, you also understood it. You understood how Dean dealt with things he didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about, even to his own brother.  

Dean now looked down on you knowingly, gesturing at the rest of the kitchen.

“You gonna tell me what you’re doing in here?” he asked.

You crossed your arms and raised your chin, a smile playing on your lips.

“What, can’t handle somebody else in your kitchen? What’re you, Gordon Ramsey?” you teased.

Dean’s brows kicked up, his lips twitching.

“You’ve made a mess of my kitchen any number of times, but I ain’t ever smelled sweet, sweet cherry coming out of that oven,” he said. “You’re finally making me pie?”

You had to laugh. Inside, you were pleased that he now looked excited, his green eyes dancing. You clapped your hands over his arms.

“Yes, I’m making you your damn pie. Only took me fifteen tries, but it’s happening,” you said. You turned to check on it, but the second you opened the oven, black smoke billowed out.

Your eyes widened in horror and your mouth fell open on reflex, but harsh coughs tore from your throat as you waved your hand against the smoke. Dean quickly handed you the oven mitts, and you shoved them on before taking out the steaming dessert.

The entire top crust was scorched black. Cherry filling oozed out, and not in a good way. You slammed the oven shut with your hip, and you had to toss the pan onto the counter for how hot it was.

Inside that pan was a dreadful excuse for a pie.

Dean had an arm crossed under his elbow, while a hand came up to cover his mouth as he took in the state of it. He then looked over at you.

He saw the shock, settling into pursed lips and tight shoulders. You turned in slow movements.

You saw that the oven had been switched to “Broil” on the highest setting. You’d probably messed that up when you fell and hit the dial with your hand. But Christ, was that a powerful oven.

Those old white guys really didn't mess around when they built this damn bunker, you thought sourly.

Dean took another look at the steaming pie and grimaced, despite his amusement.

“Well, she won’t be entering any beauty pageants, that’s for sure,” he teased.

His playful smirk fell, however, the moment you turned around. He saw the way you were biting your lip, and the tears brimming in your eyes.

He softened, and he went to you.

“Aww, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he chuckled, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “‘S probably better than I could do.”

You rested your head against his chest and sniffled. You blinked to try to stem off your tears. 

“It’s not about the damn pie! I mean, not really. It’s just…” you trailed.

You quieted, realizing you were about to say things you’d rather not.

Dean noticed though. Because of course he did.

“Then what’s it about?” he asked.

You avoided his gaze at first, though he was too perceptive not to notice. He jostled you a little against his side.

“Huh? You wanna answer me?” he asked. His lips curved at the way you were fighting a smile yourself. Your tears won out though.

You turned under his arm and leaned up on your toes, so you could hug him. Your arms twined around his neck and you held him tight.

To say it surprised Dean would be an understatement, his eyes widening a fraction. He still held you back, almost on reflex.

“I couldn’t do anything else,” you said, through tears. “Not for you, or Sam…or for Mary.”

Dean’s confusion descended into grim understanding. A weight fell deep in his gut, clenching painfully the way it always did, when he thought about his mom.

The fact that Jack didn’t have his soul didn’t make a difference, no matter what Sam said. Not in Dean’s mind, anyway.

Jack had killed their mom.

She was gone, had been taken from them. And that second loss had torn a new chasm in Dean’s heart, deeper than the last one. He held you a bit tighter without realizing it.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing his back. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to…to do something for you.”

Slowly, Dean pulled away a little. His hands moved to your waist as he looked down on you with a heaviness in his eyes. For a moment, he just took in the contours of your face, your eyes shining with tears that clung to your lashes. You were looking up at him like all you wanted to do was fix it. And fix him.

Well, you had to know that was a lost fucking cause. But it just didn’t stop you from staying here with him and Sam, living with them, hunting with them, being one of the last friends they had, after all these years.

It didn’t stop Dean from loving you for it, either.

He let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but raise a hand to get some of the flour off your cheek. He smoothed the back of his hand against your skin, along your jaw, and finally brushed his thumb across your lower lip, where you had worried it with your teeth.

“You’re too damn much, you know that?” he murmured.

You were blushing hot at his touch, but you frowned at his words. Until you noticed the fond glint in his eyes…and for the first time, something more. Something he was finally allowing you to see.

When he bent down and claimed your lips, your thoughts stuttered to a halt. You gripped the front of his shirt instinctively. He framed your face with his hands; they were calloused and smelled like motor oil, but you didn’t give a shit. Not one iota. Because it meant something, and your heart swelled with a warmer, brighter feeling.

You gripped his shirt tighter and leaned up to meet his second kiss. His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You grabbed onto his shoulders and let him invade your mouth with his warm tongue slipping against yours. You moaned, the sound echoing between you both and shooting right to his dick.

His brows furrowing, Dean’s fingers slipped into your hair again, but this time, to tangle in the strands. He walked you back until your ass hit the counter, where he grabbed hold of your thighs and hefted you on top of it, regardless of whatever stains covered its surface.

He moved in between your jean-clad thighs and encouraged you wordlessly to wrap them around his hips. You didn’t need much encouragement.

“Dean,” you whispered, between heated kisses, hands wandering down your body, exploring soft curves and warmth over clothing.

“Hmm?” he said, into your mouth. It was distracting, but you found the strength to slow things down, gently taking his face into your hands.

You both caught your breath for a moment. It allowed Dean to see the thread of uncertainty in your gaze, even though you caressed his stubble-covered cheeks.

“I just…do you…is this…” you tried, but your brain seemed to be on a short fuse. You blamed his sinful lips entirely.

Said lips drew into a smirk. Dean’s hands moved up your thighs and held your waist less gripping, more comforting (and claiming).

“I really do, and damn straight it is,” he said, slightly teasing. He did lean back in to press a gentler kiss to your lips.

“Trust me,” he said, as he became more serious. “If you want more from this…”

At that, your uncertainty melted into warmth. You released his face, holding onto his shoulders instead.

“Yeah, Dean,” you nodded. “More than anything, yes.”

He read your sincerity, and it warmed him too. Again, he gave into the urge to brush his thumb against your blushing cheek.

“I uh…I had a feeling it was always gonna be you,” he said.

You raised a brow at that, even though your smile threatened to unravel him further.

“Oh, yeah? How long?” you asked.

Dean pretended to think.

“Since that first batch of oatmeal cream pies,” he said, with a cheeky grin. “Pretty sure I was marked from there on out.”

And not just because he’d been imagining what you’d be like to taste, ever since.

You giggled, though you gestured with your eyes at the charred pan next to you on the counter.

“Guess I should try again on that pie. Wonder what that’ll get me,” you hedged, letting your thumb graze his neck. Dean smirked.

“All right, sure. Remind me to pick up a new fire extinguisher,” he said.

You guffawed and hit his shoulder, but he just laughed and pulled you in for another kiss.

It was sweet enough on its own.

AN: I know, I know. I'm a sap. 😂 Let me know what you thought of this pie-filled episode! 🥧 💕

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@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[pixiiipie]

it isn’t noticeable that zayne likes to be praised at first but it all comes down to the phrasing. his work colleagues will say that “zayne is amazing. he’s so good at his job” but you’ll tell him “you helped a lot of people today zayne. i’m so proud of you that’s amazing” and he can’t help but avert his gaze and say how “it was nothing” with his heart rate subtly picking up (just a little).

apprentices who aspire to be like him will chat amongst themselves not very secretively and say “have you heard of what he’s achieved and he’s still so young? he’s so smart and dedicated everyone should try to follow him” whereas a “your efforts are always appreciated. get some rest you’ve done so well” from you will make him melt.

zayne isn’t always particular with the phrasing of his praise since he cares more about who they’re from. (especially if they’re accompanied with a warm gaze and a hand gently on his cheek).

[kedreeva]

OC Askbox Game

I'm avoiding writing and you probably are too, so let's at least think about our characters while we do it.

You know the drill- send me a number (ONE number, you can come back for more) and I'll answer for an OC of your choice (if you know their name) or my choice (if you don't know their name). Feel free to name some of your OCs in the tags of your reblog, if you want to be asked about them.

How did you choose their name?

Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?

Do they have a love interest, and was that their choice or yours?

Do they have a best friend? If so, how did they meet? If not, have they ever/why never?

Did they have a pet as a child?

What catalyzed their introduction to the plot?

What attribute of them (some facet of their personality, their history, their look, or whatever etc) would you find most important to somehow preserve if they were transplanted to an AU fanfic?

If your character's financial situation were to suddenly flip (someone poor becoming rich, someone rich becoming poor, etc), how well would they handle it? What would be the first thing they would do?

If your character could have handed their role in the plot to someone else, would they have?

Free Space #1: Which of your OCs would be most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse? Which would die immediately?

Does your character have a pet peeve?

Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?

Who is your character's closest (by relation, fondness, or distance) blood relative?

How does your character feel about riding horses (or your world's closest approximation of a horse if it lacks horses)?

Is your character's first instinct fight or flight? Is there something that could force them to do the opposite?

What is your character's favorite leisure activity?

Is your character holding any grudges? Are they likely to stop?

If your character were trapped on a deserted island, what three things would they want to have with them? Which person would they absolutely hate to be trapped there with? Which person would they enjoy being trapped there with?

Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

Free Space #2: Which of your OCs would you most like to meet in person, if they could become real (or you could visit them) for a day?

Final Question: Ask me your own question about my OC

Remember: play nice! Send an ask to the person you reblogged this from, and try to send a few to folks that reblog from you!

[spaceorphan18]

Alright. So. This is a thing that happened....

I... maybe have written my first real X-Men - Rogue/Gambit fic. Inspired by an interview X-Men 97 Gambit Voice Actor did. And then, it got posted to Twitter. And then said Gambit Voice Actor reblogged it, READ IT, and commented.

I am so... shellshocked you guys. I cannot believe this happened. I just... I was shaking when I found out today. This is wild and amazing and I'm so flattered and wow. I just can't even believe it.

I have literally been smiling all day.

<3

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

hey! *drops this and disappears*

rip lily evans, you would’ve loved taylor swift <\3

close upss bc i’m kinda proud of this :d

[princip1914]

This ficlet is based on the Good Omens meta I’ve seen floating around that suggests Aziraphale nearly says “I love you” and at the last minute cuts himself off and says “I forgive you.” Personally, I thought that would have been an even more devastating exchange, so naturally I had to write it.

A shock of heat, a bloom of want which arced down Aziraphale’s spine and fought to pull him closer to the long line of Crowley’s body. The pressure of Crowley’s lips; insistent and angry, hard as stone. 

Come work with me, Aziraphale had begged. I need you.

And Crowley–

Crowley had chosen earth over safety, over light, over–over Aziraphale. Over the only us that had a chance at eternity. And then, he had twisted his hands in Aziraphale’s lapels and twisted the knife deeper, his mouth on Aziraphale’s mouth, a mockery of what Aziraphale had wanted on that first day of freedom and each day afterwards. A mockery of what Crowley had never before offered. 

Once, while blessing a monastery in Russia, Aziraphale had gone swimming in a frozen lake. He had long since learned that such asceticism did not suit him. But now with Crowely’s mouth on his, he remembered the utter shock of the cold, remembered how he had fought the deadly instinct to gasp when he entered the water. 

Crowley’s lips shifted against his, gentled ever so slightly, enough that Aziraphale could have parted them with his tongue and licked into the heat of Crowely’s mouth. Instead, he pressed his own lips tighter together; he did not want to drown. 

But when Crowley pulled away, the truth still ripped itself out of Aziraphale’s mouth in a strangled stutter. 

“I…I love you.”

* * *

Crowley’s lips were numb. He felt light somehow, unpleasantly so, like an empty vessel.

Aziraphale looked as though he had been struck. He pressed a hand to his mouth, but it was too late. The words were already there between them. 

I love you. 

Perhaps Aziraphale was lying to get Crowley to agree with him. He had lied to God after all, but Crowely had known him for six thousand years and was harder to fool. Crowely’s cheeks were wet with the tears that had hung on Aziraphale’s lashes. Crowely did not think he was lying.

It didn’t matter. Aziraphale might love him; but it still wouldn’t be enough because he didn’t know him. If Aziraphale had known Crowley, he would have known that Heaven was the one place Crowely would never–could never–follow him. He would have known not to ask at all. 

Crowley ought to be angry, but all the anger had burned out. Just charcoal left, the skeleton of a tree in the desert after God had finished telling Moses and no one else the plan. 

“Don’t bother,” Crowely said, and walked out the door. 

[lifesizehysteria]

New progress in my fics? It’s more likely than you think

[enchantedsugden]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Emmerdale Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden Characters: Robert Sugden, Aaron Dingle Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, young robron, Fluff Series: Part 2 of in this world it's just us Summary:

robert hopes they will never lose this, the excitement of seeing each other at the end of the day, even when they actually live together.

 a little look into one of the many weekends in which aaron visits robert at university.

[thatdammchickennugget]

Just My Type

pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader

tags - hockey player and figure skater au

warnings - none I think

wordcount - 1.1k

a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested

The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.

Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.

Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.

After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.

Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.

“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.

Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?

You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.

Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.

You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.

“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”

Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.

“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.

“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.

Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.

“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”

“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”

The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.

He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.

Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.

By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.

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[cascigarette]

mary wants to be forgiven. sam wants to forgive her.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

When the ceremony reaches its end, when Kipperlilly’s parents are sufficiently distracted in conversing with the officiant about burial plots and mourning periods and all of death’s bureaucracy, Lucy drifts up the aisle and halts beside Kipperlilly’s closed casket.

Closed.

Mary Ann told her how Kipperlilly died in the final battle with the Bad Kids. Caught by Hold Person, submerged into lava, screaming with fury—always rage, never pain—as her flesh melted off her body and blended with her burning cardigan.

‘Pathetic’ was how Mary Ann explained Kipperlilly’s end, a description not acerbic or vindictive but flat and monotonous, giving voice more to Kipperlilly’s perspective than to Mary Ann’s own.

Lucy studies the lacquered wooden top of the casket. She knows not whether it’s closed to disguise charred bones or to disguise—

“It’s empty.”

Lucy’s head snaps around to see that Kipperlilly’s parents now stand behind her, the officiant newly vanished into the depths of the holy building.

“It’s empty,” Landynleaf Copperkettle repeats. “There weren’t no remains left for us. Not from a reborn divinity’s lava.”

“It’s empty,” Octavia Copperkettle echoes. “Just like yours.”

—an excerpt from my post-canon frostkettle wip where lucy brings kipperlilly back through divine intervention

[pixiiipie]

Since your my only hope for sub zayne stuff. If you have any spare time could you write a dom to sub fic? please🙇‍♂️. I love your content

jealous boy

includes: dom to sub zayne | reverse comforting | handjob (giving) | hickies (receiving and giving) | nipple play (giving) | a little possessive zayne | not proofread!! (yet!)

awww i’m so honoured i’m just a single mom supporting all my kids <3 and thank youu! i rly like dom-> sub things but writing it is a whole other story 😵‍💫 writing dom character things are rly hard i dont wanna make it actually awful. hope you like my attempt <333

authors note!: the dom part of this is very small and mostly just body language and some not super sexual things. just zayne being possessive and jealous but we soon sort him out. mostly comforting him. i don’t really like this… i promise i can write things that aren’t sickly sweet!!

it was very rare for zayne to have a day off let alone a whole weekend. he committed himself fully to his work but even though they rely a little too much on him, his colleagues (and you) insisted that he took some time off. to help him completely forget about his ‘abandoned duty’, you treated him with days out and simple moments of intimacy to reward him.

on one of these days, you took him to a bakery to pick out any dessert he wished to enjoy in the park. although it took some time for him to allow you to spoil him like this, he happily pointed out a few treats for the both of you (though he was quick to repay you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers-of course he knows-intimately arranged on your way home). it was a lovely warm day and it felt warmer with every longing gaze zayne looked at you with. he’d never been as happy as he was in that moment.

after your long day, you both decided to stay in and enjoy a home cooked meal in each others company (the flowers weren’t enough and zayne really wanted to treat you to your favourite restaurant but you managed to push him home instead- it was his day! you were spoiling him!). cooking together was a shared activity that you and him tried to do as often as you could. making something for both of you to enjoy and feel proud of as you danced around each other was a perfect way to end any day.

however, this time it felt a little different. instead of his usual actions where he would occasionally come over to press kisses to your head as you chopped vegetables, he barely left you unsupervised and would (a little too tightly) hold you by the waist occasionally brushing his fingers over any bare skin he could reach. noticing this, you tried to bring it up with him whenever he did something like this but zayne was too good at remaining in control of his tone and brushed it off. even if he didn’t give it away with his responses, you knew him and could tell something was up.

you planned to talk to him about this over dinner where you could watch him without being distracted. hopefully things didn’t turn sour and ruin what was a beautiful day with him. since you were still trying to spoil him, you insisted for him to sit at the table and you’ll dish up and bring the food over. obediently, he does so but his demeanour is making you a little uneasy. you’ve dealt with many of his different emotions and are stating to be able to tell how he’s feeling even if it’s not obvious to others but this was new.

as you set his plate down in front of him, he pulled you onto his lap in one quick motion and kissed you. this took you off guard since although you’ve been trying to get him to open up to you and act with more confidence, this was a first. it was difficult to gain control of the kiss but he soon stopped as you lightly hit his back. “zayne what is it? what’s the matter?” you asked unintentionally avoiding pet names in your confusion and slight annoyance. he didn’t answer and instead focused on peppering kisses down your neck before sucking a prominent mark in the most sensitive place (god damn doctor).

while he did this, one hand stayed wrapped around your waist while the other firmly held onto your thigh rubbing small circles with his thumb. you’ve cuddled like this before either casually or to comfort one of you but never like this. never in such a possessive way. he didn’t do anything more than this- even if he was lost in this sudden possessive mood, he would never go further and overstep your boundaries.“you’re mine” he breathed into the crook of your neck. the words felt unnatural coming from him. “and i am yours” that felt better. it didn’t seem like zayne said this to you but more to himself as an affirmation.

his initial possessiveness was becoming desperation and it hurt your heart to see him like this. just as he was about to make another mark, you stopped him by cupping his face with your hand and tilting his head up to look at you. “zayne. my darling what’s bothering you?” your voice was stern but softened when he avoided eye contact. you kissed his forehead to coax a response from him worrying that he was embarrassed or ashamed of himself.

“you’re so beautiful” he whispered so quietly that if all your attention was not on him, you would’ve missed it. as a reward, you kissed his temple and waited for him to feel ready to continue. “i apologise for… that. i don’t know what came over me.” taking a deep breath, zayne took his hands off you and let them hang by his sides but you were quick to take one before it dropped and held it. as he spoke to you, you intertwined your fingers and traced lines over it to steady him.

“everywhere we went today,” he started but unsure where to look, “people were staring at you. that’s very natural as you are… so beautiful but they were friendly to you and likewise you were back.” you half understood what he was saying but the last part threw you. you squeezed his hand to encourage him to continue. “this is very childish of me but i think i was jealous of how well you get along with people and how they look at you. i… i didn’t want you to forget about me.”

ah so that’s what it was. usually when he’s jealous, he owns up to it in a “yes i was jealous, so what?” or “i was not jealous.” way but his entire demeanour was different. he didn’t feel sour, just sad.

“my darling zayne,” you say, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles which made him look at you, “you kiss are a very kiss silly man.” a fond expression crossed your face to help him understand that you weee teasing. “you said it earlier you are mine.”

“i am yours.” he finishes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. zayne let his head fall against yours and breathed deeply. you were the biggest comfort to him in every way. “besides, everyone in the hospital looks at you like you’re god incarnate! they can’t help but sing your praises.” you say rubbing his back.

“they’re not you though.” zayne says. that was the sweetest thing about him. people would flock over him and admire him but nothing they said would ever come close to how warm you made him feel with a simple word. finally moving his other hand, he gently took your face and allowed you to close the gap between you both. kissing always felt better when you took the lead. kissing always felt better when it was with you.

taking this opportunity to straddle him, you return the favour and kiss a trail down to his neck to mark him up. zayne keeps a softer hold on your waist and tries his hardest not to move as you kissed and bit all over his neck. no matter how hard he tried though, trying to suppress his soft whines became more difficult the more you continued.

“there. now you know i’m not lying.” you say, sitting back to admire your work. zayne’s entire figure was struggling to not slump over as he gazed at you through half-lidded eyes. those eyes were a stark contrast from the look he gave you a few minuets ago. you knew what that face was. “use your words darling. what do you need?” you whisper with a smirk taking his chin to look at you.

“you” was all he could muster and all he could think of.

“cute. that’s my good boy.” you say leaning close to his ear as your hands unbuttoned his trousers. “how’s this, my love?” zayne nodded, carefully rubbing your waist and back too embarrassed to speak. just as you managed to free his dick, you move some of his hair out of his face and ask, “what would you like?” blowing a little cold air towards it to make him twitch.

“mmn just your hand please. i’d like to kiss you more.” zayne replies. all he wants right now is to be close to you and be reminded that here, in this universe, in this lifetime, you love him and he is yours. fulfilling his request, you kiss him deeply and start moving your hand just to hear him moan into your mouth. you loved the subtle change in his body language whenever you touched him like this. zayne truly melts and his body becomes even more obedient to you. all he wants is you.

“zayne, my love, you know there’s no need to be jealous of all those people today.” you say watching him try to hide his face as you call him out. hearing you call him ‘jealous’ made him feel immature. “you’re the only one i want to do this to.” you add, twisting your wrist and kissing his cheek. your legs were holding him down but it was becoming increasingly difficult to not buck into your hand.

“please… only do this hnng- with me.” he pleaded his breathing becoming heavier and shakier “i- haah… i love y-you.” zayne was so soppy but it made you want to spoil him more. he could get anything he wanted when he acted like this and he probably knows it. while one of your hands worked on his dick, you moved the other under his shirt to play with his nipples. over time, you’ve been building him up and trying to make them more sensitive and he’s mentioned how they’re starting to feel good (in a very blunt way of course. very professional, very straightforward, very much breaking eye contact).

“c-careful!” zayne gasped, his body jolting forwards to the added stimulation. “i love the way your body reacts to things. i wish i could cary out a doctor’s inspection of it.” you muse mostly to yourself taking time to admire him.

“mmaybe o-one day.” he shudders as you focus your attention on his other nipple. with this promise, you increase your movements wanting to test everything on him now. “you’re so pretty like this zayne. i want to show you off to everyone.” you say moving back to his neck trying to get him close. “nno haah…” he whined not wanting to share this moment with anyone but you.

“but… seeing you like this is for my eyes only.” your hot breath on his neck and what you were saying made it hard for him to concentrate and a familiar feeling started to build. “y-yes…yes oh gods yes mmghhh just f-for you.” he babbles tilting his head back to give you more access.

“cum for me darling. i love you.” you say sucking one last mark onto him which makes him practically whine at how good you were making him feel. “tha-ank you mmghhh l-love haah- love-!” his breathing became erratic for a moment before he let out a long moan, relishing in the moment. he came over your hand and a little got on his exposed stomach but you’d be helping him out of his clothes soon enough. the day was over but you hadn’t finished spoiling him.

it didn’t take zayne too long to come back to his senses although his head was still a little foggy. he readjusted himself and rested his head on your shoulder subconsciously nuzzling a little. “‘m sorry.” he mumbled. pressing a kiss onto his head you simply reply “there’s nothing to be sorry for it’s okay. i’m just glad you’re okay.” you were so warm to him he was so lucky to have you.

“dinners cold.” he then says a little dejectedly. even though he wasn’t quite in his right mind when you were making it, you two were still making it together and he hates the idea that he wasted a home cooked meal just because of how he acted. “let’s order a take out! it’s been a little while and it’s good for you to eat unhealthy things sometimes.” you say trying to comfort him. he only scoffed in response which meant he was feeling a little like his usual self. this otherwise annoyed response made you smile.

“it’ll take a little while for it to get here,” zayne says moving his head from its safe place, “please, allow me to return the favour to you and apologise in the meantime. this is how i want to spend my days off.”

if you enjoyed, please consider liking or even reblogging! any kind of interaction let’s me know that you liked this and gives me motivation to write more. make sure to follow to stay up to date with all my thoughts <3