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crushedbyhyperbole · 3 months

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Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”

“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

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slvttyplum · 2 months

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i thinkkkk you should do “we cry together” by kendrick lamar BUT with toji🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

“so you just gone sit there all night?” your eyes scanning over the room looking for the keys that were once on the coffee table in the middle of the living room.

toji scoffs, keeping his eyes on the tv, adjusting himself and lifting the remote by his side, keeping his eyes glued to the tv.

it was the same thing with his bitch ass every day, the same bullshit that repeated; it was like a nightmare that you were living in, but you only had yourself to blame; you knew what time it was when it came to toji.

the prior argument that happened the night before replaying in your head, little snippets flashing in your mind as you looked at him, a laugh slipping past your lips.

“where’s my keys?” your eyes still scanning the living room and patting yourself down just in case you already had them and forgot, the room falling silent as toji still watches at the tv.

slipping his hand in his pocket and pulling out his phone, his thumbs moving over the illuminated screen. your jaw clenching as you walk over to him, trying to take his phone, but he pushes you back, the both of you tugging on the phone.

“who the fuck are you texting?” he snatches his phone back and throws it, a loud thud heard on the other side of the room. your eyes looking at where he threw it, about to walk over there, but Toji tugs on your arm, and you tug back.

the cycle repeats.

"give me my fucking keys! i’m tired of your bitch ass.” pushing on his chest and trying to walk away, but he keeps your arm in lock with his hand, not even letting you budge out of his grip.

“and i’m tired of your bitching.” his voice got louder than yours as he still held you in his grip, stopping you from moving. he was doing some sneaky shit once again, and you were going to find out what it was.

this was going to be the time you really kicked his ass out, you were tired of everything. the pettiness, the degrading, his lazy ways, his cheating ass, you were tired of everything.

“fuck you! let me go.” hitting his hand to let you go, and he finally does, immediately free from his grip, you run to his phone and pick it up. the sound of your keys jingling caught your attention, and you quickly turned around to see him smirking and holding up your keys, jingling them again.

“aha now you parked in this bitch. go catch a ride from one of your thot ass friends.” stuffing your keys in his pocket, flopping back on the couch. you throwing his phone back on the couch and you storming over to him, sitting over him, trying to get your keys, but he’s not budging.

“give me my fucking keys!” your voice hoarse from last night's screaming match and your hands fumbling over his, his hands sliding down to your waist and pulling up the hem of your dress.

“why the fuck should i? look what the fuck you’re wearing!” his voice loud and bouncing off the walls, his hands falling to your ass out of routine but still not budging to give you your keys.

“what about it toji?!” pushing against his chest, trying to get off his lap, you knew it was no use to try to get the keys back because he wasn’t budging. it was clear he was still butt hurt about last night and was trying to sabotage your plans, but he wasn’t stopping shit.

storming over to the front door and taking your purse off the hook and storming into your room to get your phone to call your friend, you didn’t care if they were going to give you a lecture about your relationship, you just didn’t want to be in the same space as him.

as you look around your room for your phone, you hear the door close and the sound of the door licking a second letter. you look behind you and toji is walking up to you, throwing your keys on the bed.

“so what you wanna do?”’his voice low as he looks at you with an averted gaze, the air stiff and a low sigh slipping past your lips. bending over to get the keys, and you feel hands on your ass, his hands slowly rubbing under your dress.

taking his fingers and hooking them around the hem of your panties and pulling them down, pushing against your aching your core, feeling his dick press against him.

fuck…

pushing your dress up and taking his sweatpants and briefs quickly, pulling them down, the tip of his dick covered with pre-cum. lining himself up with the entrance and slowly sliding himself in, a light moan coming out of your mouth as your grip the sheets.

his hand on your back pressing into it and his other on your ass and gripping it, pushing deeper inside of you, another moan sliding out of you.

sliding himself out of you then pushing into you roughly and lifting his hand up and slapping your ass, the feeling making you moan and arch your back, the feeling making you clench around him with arousal.

slipping himself back out and pushing into you again, a grunt coming past his lips as he pushes into you deeper. his hand sliding from your ass to your back and then to your neck, sliding it to the front of your neck and pushing you into his chest.

leaning down and kissing your neck, your body arched as you take him all in, moans slipping out of your mouth more and more, little whimpers emerged with him and his low groans in your ear.

“mm, you like it? tell me you like it.” pushing into you again and deeper, pressing hard into your sweet spot, a small cry coming out as you squeeze your eyes shit trying to take in the pleasure.

your tight pussy clinging onto him, he almost wants to stay inside you, he pushes into you a little more before pulling out and slamming into you again. your hand coming up to his arm for grip and stability, your mouth open as moans continue to slip out.

“i like it, baby. fuck me harder.” small tears sliding out of the corner of your eyes, and he continues to slam into you, his thick dick slowly spreading out your walls the more he pushes deeper inside of you.

a knot in the pit of your stomach ready to unravel any minute, the way the tip of his dick was pressing into your sweet spot sent you over, your walls clinging onto him again as you let out a longer moan.

“whose pussy is this? huh?” grunting into your ear waiting for your answer, the harder he presses into you, your tits start to come out the shirt, his other hand sliding over to grip them.

“yours toji, yours”. your mind blurred, you could barely think. the only thing on your mind was the dick he was giving you, it was too much, you were at your climax, your walls gripping around him more before you cum.

a long moan sliding past your lips and a groan coming from his, loosening his grip from your neck and letting you fall on the bed, pushing into you one more time before laying on you.

“i hate you.” your eyes shutting as you embrace his cum shooting inside of you.

“fuck you.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #finally finished omg #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji x y/n #dilf toji

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chironshorseass · 6 months

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ok i really really really enjoyed watching the first two episodes and i think the show is already so faithful to the books in ways the movies wished they were BUT i’m gonna be a bitch just because i can and rant about a few insignificant but at the same time very important Things the writers didn’t Understand:

percy is angry.

and i know this is seen with his anger towards poseidon in the show, but i’m talking angry. as in, generally speaking. when he’s with grover and they’re talking about nancy, percy says something along the lines of “we should fight back,” and grover’s like “noooo we can’t stand up to bullies.” and then percy stands up to her and blah blah blah…but in the books percy’s first line is “i’m going to kill her” after she throws a sandwich at grover. grover talks him out of it because he’s already on probation.

with just this scene we know percy stands up to bullies, and that’s partly why he has so much trouble at school! in the show, he stands up to nancy, apparently for the first time, and gets kicked out because of it! sorry but as someone who worked in a school, i know for a fact that kids can get away with so much more before they’re actually kicked out lol. it would’ve made sense, like in tlt, that he’s already at risk of suspension so him “pushing” nancy is the final straw. it’s just very weird, considering it could be only a line of dialogue that makes percy’s anger and the connection between his outburst and him getting kicked out more clear.

consequently, percy arrives at his appartment and gabe is just a general (still admittedly abusive) jerk instead of a drunk, violent (also abusive) man. when we meet gabe, it makes a lot of sense why percy has so much trouble with his anger. it’s easy to see that connection. literal child + alcoholic abusive father figure = there’s bound to be some trouble….that’s not really the case in the show, especially in the way that sally easily stands up to him. people have said a fair bit about this topic already, so i’m not gonna expand on that, but i really wish the writers had focused more on percy’s internal anger, as it’s such an important part of his character and affects the way he reacts to things throughout the books; it just worries me that in the first episode it wasn’t as established. i. e. he hates dionysus on sight because he reminds him of smelly gabe, he hates the gods—is angry at poseidon—because, where was he when my mom and i were suffering at the hands of smelly gabe? ok i’m not gonna talk about more of this or of sally because other people have said it and i could write a four page essay of what the show got wrong plus i want to talk abt other things before this gets too long:

the monster scenes.

the mrs. dodds being a fury reveal felt sooo…weird? even the movie version did it better lol. it felt super rushed and strange how percy’s just standing there and the next he’s on the ground, but he had riptide with him so he just impaled her and then she turned to dust??? in the books, not only does she get percy alone, but grover tries to stand up to her—which is a big deal since he knows what she truly is and shows how much he cares for percy in that moment. percy has time to be genuinely terrified bc he’s alone with a literal monster and he’s about to die…and chiron throws him riptide just in time, but then he too vanishes so percy’s left wondering if he imagined everything. but no, in the show mrs. dodds comes out of nowhere and attacks him, and it’s so fast that percy doesn’t have time to dwell on wtf happened. the situation doesn’t seem as serious as it does in the book; in the book she tries to interrogate percy bc she thinks he’s the lightning thief, and when she doesn’t get her answer, she attacks him. this is another thing: the stakes. they don’t feel as high in the show because there’s no annabeth trying to ask percy what was stolen, no hellhound, no fates cutting a string, and no alecto/mrs. dodds interrogation. there’s not much of a lead up to the quest, really.

theeen the minotaur scene, which also feels super weirdly paced and there’s just not that same sense of urgency. again, other people have talked about this, so i’ll just stick to another main concern of mine: grover’s role in the scene. it was so strange how in the book he’s semi unconscious and in the show he’s fine (so fine that sally does something completely out of character and makes grover swear to keep percy safe? she would never put that much pressure in a child???) ok so he seems fine in the show, but then when they’re running percy’s holding him as if he can’t walk???? they’re not even fully sprinting, given that a monster is chasing them lol. (the problem with the stakes; i mean with the way they run and have an entire talk with sally makes it feel like they’re not in any real danger).

back to grover: he was perfectly fine, and he got percy back safe. not at all like in tlt, where percy has to practically carry him back, after loosing his mom and killing the minotaur. THEN percy passes out and later wakes up at the big house. this is important, bc grover’s entire THING is being percy’s protector, and he couldn’t do that properly bc he was indisposed. he felt awful. of course he did. his character arc is overcoming the guilt and insecurities—that he’s not a proper protector and therefore can’t search for pan; his main character motivation—by successfully completing the quest and helping percy retrieve the master bolt.

these are just little seeds that needed to be planted in the first two episodes of the show…so that the rest of the show feels cohesive and makes sense with what happens in tlt. if these character traits and scenes are looked over and not given proper importance/not replaced with something similar, then the show will have a different tone than it does to the books. i don’t think it’s necessarily bad, but it is disappointing that the details sprinkled in the source material are lost in translation. they may have seemed insignificant to the writers, but not to meeee!!!!!!

#pjo adaptation #percy jackson #grover underwood #they should’ve hired a couple of insane pjo girlies to read and revise the script. just saying!!!!

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hyunsvngs · 10 months

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𝟓-𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 - lee felix x gn!afab reader x han jisung (side lee minho x gn!afab reader, side kim seungmin x gn!afab reader)

wc: 6.5k

cw: boy x boy skz action depicted!!, reader is afab (gn pronouns used), everyones fuckin, alcohol, mentions of weed, minho being affectionate, sex with no strings, SMUT MDNI PLEASE

synopsis: your best friend is pissed he hasn’t had his turn yet. the only problem is, his turn begins to take place in a room with three other people present.

a/n: i am so SORRY THIS IS PURE FILTH.. i’m actually so sorry this is the filthiest thing thats been on this blog thus far. i’m so sorry. part 5 of hot bitch summer aka LIX’S INSTALMENT :D ENJOY!!!!! as usual, smut warnings under the cut!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: cumswapping, both sub and dom mc, sub!lix & jisung, dom!seungmin & minho, a fivesome?? of sorts??, main pairings being felix x mc and minho x mc, anal fingering (m. receiving), semi public sex, sex while tipsy?, handjobs, fingering, blowjobs, face fucking (mc rec), dirty talk, hair pulling, begging, ok so maybe a bit of subspace, seungmin is SO MEAN, so is minho but hes LESS MEAN, hickeys, mentions of pubic hair (AS ALWAYS), EDGING (MC REC), AFTERCARE!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[10:02am] Lix: what the fuck???

Hearing the familiar text chime, you rolled over to grab your phone. It felt like it had been years since you’d slept in your own bed, sans Minho and sans the random screams of the rest of the frat through the night. You’d been sleeping brilliantly, worn out from the new progress in your sex life and getting a well deserved night of good rest in your own bed. You deserved it. However, your body had different plans - clearly you were still fine-tuned to the specific notification noise you’d set to your best friend's texts.

Rubbing your eyes clear of sleep, you ran your thumb over your screen and where the text appeared in front of you. Huh?

[10:04am] You: huh?

[10:04am] Lix: bestie be so fr rn. minho’s fine, i could barely handle jisung but i pushed through it. even changbin was a struggle. BUT HYUNJIN????? MY OTHER BEST FRIEND???????!!!

You scoffed out a laugh, fingers typing rapidly on your keyboard.

[10:05am] You: i thought u were 100% here for my hot bitch summer?

[10:05am] Lix: I AM BUT WHEN IS IT MY TURN?????

[10:06am] You: when did u ask????

The little bubble that indicated he was typing popped up. Then it disappeared. Then it deflated again, in a modern demonstration of confusion. After that, you received a very interesting eyebrow raise emoji and a badly worded message.

[10:09am] Lix: film night 2night. we watch a film with the guys n get freaky after? ;D

Rolling your eyes, you sent a quick thumbs up emoji before locking your phone. Film nights weren’t something you were typically invited to. In all honesty, those seemed to be reserved strictly for the members of the frat themselves as a more intimate gathering. Clearly that was not the case anymore - how could it be when you were steadily making your way through them all?

It didn’t shock you Felix was throwing a tantrum. You’d expected it after Jisung, and been mildly surprised when there was still no commotion after Changbin. Clearly Hyunjin was the last straw. That was something you were unable to understand. Why had Hyunjin been the one to set him off?

You decided not to think about it. You’d need to have your wits about you if you were going to a film night with the guys, especially since you had next to no idea who would actually be there. You didn’t want to ask. You and Minho were fine, better than ever actually, and the same went for you and the other members you’d managed to get into bed. Or on the gym floor. But you hadn’t really spoken to Chan since it all started happening despite having an amicable relationship with him beforehand, and Seungmin had some form of unspoken issue with you.

It was obvious that he was displeased. Whether he just wasn’t woke or feminist enough did cross your mind - he was an English Literature major, for Christ’s sakes. Knowing Seungmin, his whole knowledge of the opposite gender came from Wuthering Heights or something. You weren’t sure he even had much clue what his own gender wanted romantically - had he ever even been with anyone? This didn’t seem accurate. If anything, Seungmin seemed like he’d be the most accepting of female sexuality. You only ever saw him outside of parties with glasses perched on his annoyingly cute nose and said nose deep in the pages of an old, dusty book. During parties, he was walking around with a grin on his face and trying to cause mayhem. Maybe he was just plain evil, and didn’t like talking to people unless he could be snarky.

It was hard for you to admit the similarities you both had.

Pushing the thoughts out of your head, you sprung out of bed. You had to have your wits about you in case one of the boys chose a horror film and Felix spent the whole film cuddled up to you crying. It was a regular occurrence whenever you, Felix and Jisung had hosted one of your own film nights, just the three of you. Felix would spend the whole night crying and shaking in fear while Jisung would giggle at every jumpscare. Consequently, Felix would bicker with Jisung about laughing at a ‘super scary film’ and then a playfight would ensue. You were always left to pick up the pieces, yanking them off of eachother and proposing that you all smoked a joint to chill the fuck out.

You had to be prepared for whatever emotions the film caused that night.

Eventually turning up to the frat house, you did feel prepared. You’d packed an overnight bag with a pair of comfortable pyjamas, your phone, charger and a joint. Oh, and a bottle of vodka pushed to the bottom of your backpack. The last two were just in case. You felt you’d managed to remember all the essentials, but when you were standing at the front door, staring at the SKZ symbol, you realised you really could’ve packed a pair of sexier pyjamas. The frat logo felt like it was mocking you. You’d thought you’d pack comfortably, and so you’d just shoved a pair of pyjama shorts and a t-shirt that was three sizes too big into the bag. Mistakes were made.

Felix swung the door open upon your knock, meeting you with a beaming smile. “Hey, whore,” he chirped, new blue hair styled perfectly in a half-up ponytail on his pretty little head. You smiled, handing him your bag.

“Take?” You responded. It’s what he deserved for calling you a whore, albeit affectionately. He grabbed it obediently anyway, nodding, lithe fingers curling around the strap and beginning to embark to his bedroom. You followed behind closely. Honestly, you were just staring at his ass in his joggers as he climbed up the stairs. There’d been no sight of the other boys yet, and actually, all of their bedroom doors were wide open - you assumed they were in the living room awaiting your arrival. You almost felt bad, worried you’d been a bit late, but you hadn’t really been given an exact time. You’d just aimed for the evening.

Felix threw your bag down on the wooden floor, and you heard the unmistakable clink of the vodka bottle in your bag on its descent to the floor. You winced, and Felix looked at you, an eyebrow quirked up. “You can’t fuck me if you’re drunk, you know.”

“I can, and I will,” You retorted, walking over to the bag and unzipping it. Retrieving your pyjamas, you turned to Felix. He stood there, feet planted to the ground and a cheeky smile on his doll-like lips. “You’re gonna watch me change?”

“Yup.”

“Felix, why are you such a perv?! Get out, don’t you want to leave something to the imagination for later?” You slapped him playfully, spinning him around by his shoulders and starting to push him out of his own room. He tripped over his computer chair, flying out of the door less than gracefully.

“I’ve seen you naked before, Y/N, Jesus-” You slammed the door shut, shoulders shaking as you laughed. “You’re so mean!”

Damn, if he thought that was mean, he clearly didn’t know how you really treated pretty boys.

You stared around at Felix’s room once you’d pulled the shorts over your legs. Honestly, it was kind of sexy, in a red-flag kind of way. If you’d walked into any other boy’s room and seen the computer setup with multiple monitors and a lubed keyboard it would’ve terrified you. But you knew Felix - and a quick look at the perfectly made bed with pristine white sheets reminded you of that. He even had a massive pink body pillow on his bed made with Changbin’s fucking face on. You knew he slept with it every night - he’d brought it to your house once, and you and Jisung had fallen apart in giggles while making fun of him for it. He was just so Felix. It made no sense, but it made perfect sense to you.

The sex would take place on the bed tonight, you mused. Then you scoffed out a chuckle - ‘the sex’? That’s so fucking dumb. What the fuck was the matter with you? You shook your head, running your fingers through your hair before making your way downstairs in sock-clad feet, bottle of vodka in hand.

You cocked your head when you saw who was on the sofas downstairs. It was a typical frat house - random half-full alcohol bottles everywhere, you’d even taken your own bottle of vodka downstairs with you after all - and it smelled just the faintest bit of weed. It was relatively clean though, a fact you could probably contribute to Hyunjin or Seungmin. Seungmin seemed clean.

He seemed clean then, too, sitting on the sofa in between Minho and Jisung and looking at you with an expressionless face. His glasses weren’t on his nose, you noticed. Felix sat alone on the other couch, a red solo cup in his hand and a thick, fluffy white blanket over his legs. Everyone had cups in their hand, actually, and you wanted to kick Felix for making you feel a little awkward about bringing your own vodka. Felix smiled at you brightly while Jisung and Minho giggled about something or other. He flicked the blanket off the other seat of the sofa and patted it welcomingly.

“Come,” He demanded. You tried to avoid imagining him commanding you like that in a different situation. You walked over and threw yourself onto the couch, sidled up close to Felix. Minho was looking at you with a smile on his face, all too knowingly. Felix had definitely told him of your plans for tonight. “You want a drink, Y/N?”

“Always,” You responded quickly, making Jisung click his fingers into a finger gun at you approvingly. Felix’s hoodie was soft as he leaned over you to grab an extra cup from on the floor, quickly tipping your vodka into it and topping it off with some cheap lemonade from the store on campus.

“Okay, so we’re watching this film,” Minho sprung up, displaying a DVD case to you. Before you could retort with a question on who actually still watched DVDs these days and didn’t just stream, you realised the cover of the case. It was a film you didn’t recognise, but the case had some big-breasted woman on the front splattered with blood and there was a knife present in the image. It was clearly old - 80s? 70s maybe, at a push? Great. That’s sex out of the window completely - Felix is going to cry.

You spoke your thoughts. “Felix is going to cry.”

Felix elbowed you, grumbling. Jisung was the one who spoke up, looking at you with round eyes. “Actually, he’s seen this before. It’s not that scary, is it, Lix?”

“You would say that,” Felix responded, putting his head on top of yours. His arm pulled you in and you took a grateful sip of your drink, loving the warmth of his toned body. It was a shame he was wearing clothes, really, but you had to remind yourself to not be a whore for two seconds. “But, yeah. I’ve seen it. It’s okay, actually, just kind of gory…”

You giggled. Felix pretended to try and bite you in response, making you squeal and push him softly. This was going to be so fucking fun.

An hour into the film, Felix began to become unsettled. He was shifting awkwardly, a fact you didn’t notice straight away given you were both now two or three drinks in. Jisung had started making his weird cocktails again too, so he was staring at the screen with half-lidded eyes. Seungmin had grabbed him a litre of water and told him to sober the fuck up. You wondered if he even knew Jisung, really.

All of a sudden, Felix’s hands were yanking you onto his lap by your thigh. You sat in between his legs, still watching the shitty vintage horror film on the just as shitty television in the living room. You only bristled slightly when you felt something extremely hard and solid on your lower back, so hard you could feel it through the layers of clothing. His hands were instantly on your thighs once you were situated, drawing soft shapes on your skin.

“‘M hard,” Felix whispered into your ear, drowned out by the screaming on the television. You snorted.

“Yeah, I can feel that, Lixie,” You retorted in a just-as-quiet volume, wiggling back onto his erection. He let out a deep sigh, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You wanna go to your room?”

Felix shook his head rapidly. “I already ditched film night loads of times to play Genshin. Seungmin will have a meltdown, you know what he’s like.”

Yeah, stuck up his own ass and sadly not stuck up yours. Wait, what? “So what do you suggest we do, Lix?”

“Mmm. Just…” Felix grabbed your drink, placing it on the floor softly. The other three boys didn’t even blink at the movement, still enraptured by the film. His hands were quick to return to yours, pulling them under the blanket covering you both and placing your dominant hand on his length. “Touch me a bit? Please? Not enough to cum, can’t make a mess, just- just need something.”

You considered it. Would they even notice? Your eyes went to the other boys present in the room. Jisung was sobered up by quite a lot, thanks to Seungmin’s water, but he was still loving the film, cuddled up to Minho. It was quite cute. You kind of wanted to cuddle Minho, but you had hot bitch summer duties to complete. Seungmin was on the complete other end of the couch, but his legs were splayed across Jisung’s. He looked just as into the film, taking sips of his drink every now and again. Minho’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a soft smile. Okay, so no one had suspected anything. You could touch Felix a bit.

Turning your attention back to the film, you shifted slightly so you could run your hand over Felix’s clothed length. His reaction was instant, pulling his joggers down so you could touch his bare skin. You almost laughed at how eager he was, desperate almost, but you had to play it cool so that no one knew. You wrapped a hand around his length, tight and warm, using the precum for lubrication as you pumped up and down his length.

Felix leaned back, his jaw dropping in an almost silent sigh as his legs spread further for you. You were so glad the blanket was so thick, covering your actions, and you were also glad that the television was on so loud - the unmistakable wet noises of Felix’s dick right now could be hidden by the other noises in the room. Not to you, though. You could hear the sound as your hand rapidly stroked his cock, making his toes curl in his socks and your pussy get unbelievably wet at the sound.

You shifted awkwardly, trying to alleviate the quickly growing pressure between your thighs. You couldn’t get horny, not here, not now - if you both started doing anything more than what you were doing, the boys would be sure to notice. Or… were they really too interested in this film? It was awful, to be honest. You’d seen it before too, or maybe you’d just seen a million films just like it.

The deciding factor was Felix starting to buck his hips up just slightly into your hand, fucking the tight ring of your fingers. It made your clit throb, swollen and needy in your pyjama shorts. Fuck it.

You grabbed Felix’s hand on your thigh, leading it to your core. He shot forward instantly, chest almost fully pressed to your back but leaving you enough room to carry on touching his cock. Heavy breaths were panning across your neck and he just let you guide your hand to your pussy, passing your pyjama shorts completely. Felix’s breath hitched when he noticed you’d foregone underwear.

Dainty fingers swiped through the wetness coating your folds, making you spread your legs so that they were splayed across his. He used the wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing in precise, damp circles across your swollen bud. You wanted to moan, writhe, even beg - you couldn’t do anything, not in your current presence.

“Lixie, your room, please-?” You whispered hastily.

Just as Felix was about to reply, another voice spoke from the other sofa. “I mean, seriously, I’ve fucked you enough times and you think I wouldn’t notice that expression you get when you’re horny?” Minho. Both of your heads spun around to face him. Jisung was staring at you, eyes blown wide and a tent in his pants. Minho was smirking. Of course he was. Seungmin’s face was again normal, lips in a straight line, but his head was cocked to the side and perhaps he looked… intrigued?

“Um…” You blurted, quite unintelligibly. Your hand had paused on Felix’s cock, and his hand had dropped out of your pyjama shorts completely.

“Blanket off. You can at least show us, yeah? Don’t hide that pretty cock from us,” Minho said, nodding towards the offending fabric. Felix sounded like he’d choked on air, length twitching against your lower back. He liked that. “We all want to see. You may as well let us watch you fuck. We’re all gonna have seen that pussy at some point anyway.”

Your eyes flitted to Seungmin again. He was smirking now, a teasing expression on those plump lips that looked ever-so-soft. Just as you began to splutter out some excuses, Felix ripped the blanket off of the both of you, exposing your naked legs and the wet spot forming on your pyjama shorts. Jisung’s eyes immediately went down to the damp patch. His eyes widened almost comically, staring at your clothed pussy like it was a flourishing oasis in the middle of the driest desert.

Seungmin spoke up, then, leaning leisurely back against the sofa. “Why don’t you two kiss a bit? I know you’ll both get worked up. Both of you are fucking pathetic like that.”

Felix whined, tugging your hair back to press a firm kiss against your lips. You shifted in his lap, moving so you were facing him and straddling. The movement exposed his cock to the rest of the room, full length now steadily leaking white rivulets of precum down to his balls that sat heavy between his legs. Surprisingly, Felix pinned you to the sofa, the act of dominance making you whimper into the kiss. His tongue was heavy in your mouth, pressing against yours with the promise of something more. Your best friend kissed blazingly, filthy, messy exchanges of spit. It ignited the fire deep inside your gut, making you consider his preferred dynamics in bed - he was currently pinning you into the sofa, but he’d been so quick to be Minho’s good boy.

Your ears perked up at Seungmin speaking again. “God, will you just entertain him before he cums in his pants?” Pants? Felix’s dick was out, so… who was he talking about?

You broke the kiss and turned in just enough time to witness what was probably the most erotic scene you’d ever laid eyes on. Jisung was tugging on Minho’s t-shirt sleeve, looking up at him with watering, pleading doe eyes, and Seungmin was scoffing condescendingly at him. The tent in Jisung’s trousers was pitched even bigger than it was earlier on, and Minho was smiling softly at Jisung. With a quick move, Minho gripped Jisung by his chin and pressed his thumb into his mouth. Jisung whined, blinking rapidly up at Minho until Minho finally forced his tongue between Jisung’s pretty lips.

Subconsciously, you started to push down onto Felix, trying to get some friction yourself. Hyunjin had been right, then - they’d all fucked around with eachother before, and that was probably why they were all more than willing to fuck around with you.

Minho pulled away from the sloppy kiss with Jisung, Jisung’s mouth trying to follow. Minho’s feline eyes settled on you, cocking his head to the side. You knew your cheeks were burning with lust and there was no way the boys on the opposite sofa hadn’t noticed your hips begging for some alleviation to the pressure between your legs. Minho snorted out a condescending laugh once his eyes had taken your full figure in. “I should’ve known you’d like that. You’re so fucking filthy. You’ve got one cock between your legs, ready to pound you and you’re still looking at me and Jisung like that?”

“They can have more cocks if they want,” Jisung mumbled. “Can I? Please?”

“Mmm, not yet, Sungie,” Minho brushed a hand through his hair, looking almost too fond. You turned your attention back to Felix, where he was looking just as debauched and horny at you at the sight of his two friends kissing. “Lix, strip. You too, Y/N.”

You scrunched up your face. “Who are you to call the shots? This is mine and Lix’s night, actually. Nothin’ to do with you,'' You knew you were being petty - beyond petty actually. You just loved doing things for a response. It was always something that was in your nature. You saw Minho turn to Seungmin, before Seungmin let out a small, mirthless chuckle.

“Think I’m gonna need your help here, Seungmin. We’ve got three desperate babies wanting to play, huh?”

Seungmin sighed, stretching his arms above his head. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there, but you could see the hint of an erection in his trousers. He rolled his head to the side, humming. “I suppose I can help you out,” He looked towards you, getting up and stalking over to the sofa you and Felix were situated on. Felix had leaned back, pulling at his clothes frantically as if the soft fabric was offending him. Seungmin yanked his hand into your hair, pulling your hair back with zero delicacy.

You positively squealed. “Fuckin’- ow?!”

“Do not fuck with me. Strip, or you’re getting absolutely nothing tonight. You hear me?” You blinked up at him. Seungmin, who was strangely cute but ever so quiet. He glared at Minho over his cereal quite frequently, but you had seen Jeongin cuddled up to him taking a nap more than once. He loved Pochacco, the cute little dog character from Sanrio, and you’d actually known him with braces for a part of your life. Seungmin, who had now revealed himself to be a super hard dom - and you were actually a little bit scared to disobey him. The arousal outweighed the fear by megatons, though.

You tried to nod at him, but his fingers wrapped into your hair were just too tight. Trying to move only burned at your scalp, and Seungmin raised an eyebrow at you, a smile on his lips. Oh, he wanted you to speak. Right. Felix groaned, one hand going to wrap around his length to try and settle some of the burning desire. You could hear wet noises from the other room - presumably Minho was keeping Jisung occupied with his mouth. “Y-Yes. Just, let go and I can-”

“Sorry?”

“I- I’m sorry, Seungmin. Yes, could you please let go so I can strip for Lix? Please?” Seungmin let his hand drop from your hair rather unceremoniously, making your head drop to the armrest with a dull ‘thud’. You quickly shimmied your t-shirt and pyjama shorts off, leaving you completely bare, tummy raising and falling with your deep breaths. Felix’s eyes were blown wide, instantly moving over you to settle between your legs and pump his cock steadily in a tight fist. His head dropped to your neck, mouthing wet kisses over the skin and starting a hickey into your collarbone.

“Gonna- gonna push in, okay? Ready?” Felix questioned, raising his head up to look at you. You nodded eagerly, wrapping your legs around his waist and shifting so his cockhead was positioned at your dripping wet hole. All of a sudden, Felix blinked out of his haze, turning to Seungmin. “Can I-?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow again, hand palming the bulge over his joggers. “Can you what?”

“Can I… can I fuck them, please?” Felix whispered. Jisung moaned at a high pitch into Minho’s mouth at the statement, and when you turned to examine the pair, Jisung was grinding on Minho’s thick thigh and working himself up to a frenzy. He wasn’t even kissing Minho back, just moaning against his plush lips while Minho shoved his tongue into his mouth. You were almost proud of Jisung for hanging onto sanity a lot better than you had when on his lap.

Seungmin hesitated, looking to be contemplating before he nodded swiftly, just as unaffected. Felix groaned loudly, murmuring affirmations as he thrusted his length into you fully in one flurry of movement. He paused, giving you time to adjust - but your pussy was already so slick for the whole situation that you were clawing down his back after a few seconds, whining for more.

“Lixie- please move, move, please, need it,” You begged, eyes watering. Felix nodded eagerly, kissing the space under your eyes before he started to thrust steadily into you. His balls slapped against your ass cheeks, making the flesh ripple like a strong, dramatic wave in the sea. “Oh, oh yeah, oh yeah, Lixie. Just like that, baby boy. Just like that, yeah? So good for me.”

Felix whimpered, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. You felt a string of drool from his lips to your skin, making you moan and clench around him at the all consuming feeling of his pleasure. “‘S good? Am I good?”

You felt the signature lowering of an added body on the sofa, of whom you quickly recognised as Seungmin when he spoke. “Such a good boy, Lixie. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the pussy you’re fucking.”

“Hey!” You grumbled. Seungmin pinched the side of your thigh sharply, his nails pinching into your flesh and making you jump. “Seungmin-!”

“Oh my God, just shut the fuck up? Lee Minho,” Seungmin sighed out, rolling his eyes behind Lix’s shoulder. The sunshine boy was suddenly grinding into you instead of thrusting, the soft curls of pubic hair on his pubis grinding against your clit pleasantly. His head was thrown back, eyes rolled back into his head. Minho hummed in response, pulling back from Jisung with a wet sound. “Have your toy come and stuff your new toy’s mouth for me. I’m sick of hearing the fucking complaints.”

Minho chuckled. “My baby fucking my favourite toy’s mouth? Sounds fucking lovely to me. Go on, Sungie, you can have it,” You heard stuttered footsteps behind you and then Jisung’s round cheeks were looming over you, round eyes blinking frantically. His lips were kiss bitten and he was eagerly pulling his joggers down to his ankles, revealing his thick cock in front of your eyes. You let yourself smile fondly up at the boy above you.

He grinned back, all pearly teeth showing. “Hey bestie. Can I fuck your mouth? Lookie, ‘m hard, and you were so mean last time.”

“Can’t be mean to you when your dick’s in my mouth, Sungie,” You retorted, clenching with approval when Lix shifted his hips just right and the tip of his cockhead kissed your cervix. When your jaw dropped open with a moan, you managed to stutter out a response. “C’mere, Sungie. In my mouth.”

Jisung excitedly pressed his length into your open mouth. He was clearly delighted at the idea of being rough with you, because he immediately started fucking your mouth with fervor. You weren’t really responding, just letting unabashed moans and whines fall out of your mouth and be muffled by your friend’s cock. The feeling of Felix fucking you deep and Jisung fucking your throat was too much - you felt used, like a toy while Minho and Seungmin orchestrated the scene and you loved it. You caught sight of Seungmin playing with Felix’s nipples, whispering filthy words into his ear, and all of a sudden, Minho sat behind where you were situated on the sofa. He stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead while he sat on the floor, looking down at you over the low edge of the armrest.

He was mumbling into your skin, nuzzling with a smile. “Pretty little slut, huh? So good for me, fucking my boys like this.”

“Stop being so soft,” Seungmin scoffed. “You know they can take it.”

“I want to be soft with them, thanks,” Minho rolled his eyes in the signature Minho style. You wanted to smile, but Jisung’s cock steadily thrusting your throat was prohibiting your lips from any movement. When Jisung’s hand fell to the back of your head, trying to force your head deeper - in all honesty, you don’t know where he got the audacity - Seungmin leaped over the couch, grabbing Jisung’s hands behind his back. You whined at the sight of Jisung’s submissive nature, and Felix whined at the loss of Seungmin’s hands on his nipples, stopping all movement of his hips.

Jisung pulled out of your mouth, letting his cock bob in front of your face with a loud groan. Seungmin had presumably pulled him back. You took the opportunity to turn to Felix, pouting. “Why’d you stop?”

“I- I was enjoying having my nipples played with, to be honest,” Felix mumbled. “I like to be overstimulated like that.”

“You know what else he likes?” Seungmin quipped. “Finger his ass, Y/N. He’s been so good, give that to him, yeah?”

You scoffed. Maybe the fight wasn’t out of you yet. “Why don’t you fucking do it?”

“Um, because my hands are fucking occupied. Watch your mouth. God, this is why I don’t fuck brats.”

“That’s why you fill your brat’s mouth up,” Minho said all too happily, grinning menacingly in juxtaposition. “Sungie, baby. Back to where you were, yeah?”

Jisung immediately shot forward, pushing his length back into your mouth. He started fucking your mouth without abandon, just as you decided to give in. Felix had been good, after all.

You crept one hand around his back, letting it drift down to between his asscheeks. Using some of your wetness that had dripped down to his balls, you swept it up with your fingers and pushed your middle finger into his little asshole.

The reaction was immediate. Felix positively whined, his head thrown back. He started fucking into you again, whispering sweet nothings to you in lieu of a thanks.

“Yeah, yeah, so good, baby- a-ah, yeah! There,” Felix shifted, rocking his hips back between your finger and your tight hole. You loved the feeling, eyes rolling back into your head at the push and pull.

Minho suddenly shuffled around the sofa, landing right where your core was stretched tight around Felix’s cock. “Move back, baby.”

You and Felix both shifted, leaving a slight bit more of a gap between your tummies, still allowing your finger to thrust into him shallowly. Minho ducked down, and all of a sudden, his tongue was laving all over the area where your two erotic areas met over and over in a wet, loud exchange. You whined when his tongue brushed over your engorged clit, and Jisung’s thrusts stuttered in your throat before he pulled out.

“That’s- That’s so fucking hot, what the fuck, I-?” Jisung wrenched his hands away from Seungmin’s hold, using a hand to slap his cockhead on your tongue. You wanted to scold him, but just as the words started to form, Jisung’s tip was shooting out warm, white cum on your tongue. You moaned, curling your tongue around the tip to catch it all. Being used like this and feeling your favourite’s lips sucking on your clit? Yeah, you were gonna cum very soon.

Minho’s head shot up at the sound of Jisung’s cum, feline eyes narrowing. His tongue shot out to lick his bottom lip. “Don’t be greedy, Y/N. Remember you have to share.”

Jisung immediately ducked down, moaning as your tongue met his and you swapped his own seed between you. Your hips bucked up when Jisung gripped your chin with his hand, just like Minho had done earlier to him. You pulled your head away from Jisung, hand coming up to grip onto the arm rest and your finger stilling inside Felix. Minho’s thumb went down to your clit, rubbing firm, precise circles. He knew your body too well by now.

“G-Gah, fuck, gonna cum, I’m- please, please,” You whined, hips shifting upwards. Felix nodded.

“Gonna make you cum, baby, I promise,” He was groaning in his deep voice, making your pussy clench and gush more wetness at the timbre. His voice had honestly always had a bit of an effect on you. You vaguely registered Seungmin taking Jisung back to the other couch, but your eyes were hazy and unfocused.

“I can’t- I can’t cum until- please, please, please! ‘S so good, I can’t hold it in, I’m gonna fucking cum, I-“

“Who exactly are you begging, Y/N?” Minho tugged your head back, making you whine and kick your legs around in an attempt to avoid your orgasm. Felix hadn’t stopped fucking you, hips bouncing to fulfill your orgasm fully.

You felt tears start to brim at your eyes, threatening to fall. “You? Fuck, you! You, Minho, can I? I fucking can’t hold on! It feels too good!”

Minho clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “Nope. Felix fucked you dumb, my dumb little baby? You beg Seungmin.”

You whined, shaking your head before the words came tumbling out of your mouth. “Seungmin! Seungmin- Minnie, Minnie, please can I? Please, please, sir?”

Seungmin laughed from across the room, a loud chuckle that made you squeal again. Your tears were falling now, unashamed, your cunt clenching around Felix tight enough to make his own tears brim as he tried to hold off his orgasm.

“Sir?” Seungmin chirped. “I prefer master, but okay. Only because you seem like you couldn’t handle a punishment tonight, you can cum.”

You almost wanted to beg for a punishment, mind blurred as you just thought of trying to prove yourself to Seungmin. What the fuck? You couldn’t stop your own body when it heard the command, cunt clenching tight around Felix and causing your jaw to drop in a silent scream. A white ring of cum was formed around the base of Felix’s cock, soaking into the soft hair. You felt your eyes roll back, toes curling into the sofa, and Felix groaned deeply. Hot cum filled your pussy, creaming your walls nice and full of his seed.

A blistering heat crawled up your back and - shit, you’re still fucking cumming? You whined when Felix tried to pull out, needing something to ride your orgasm out on.

“I got them. Go on, Lixie,” Minho spoke softly. When Felix’s length pulled out of you, three of Minho’s fingers entered into your hole and kept you full. You whined as your orgasm finally started to subside, legs shaking and sniffing back tears. Felix had collapsed to your side, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before kissing up a few tears. Your eyes fluttered shut with exhaustion.

When you came to consciousness, you were wrapped up in the same pink fluffy blanket that had started it all. Jisung was perched quite happily munching on cereal straight from the box and Felix was giggling next to him, both in just their joggers. Seungmin was sitting upright next to you, fingers stroking through your hair.

“Wha… huh?” You blinked, looking up at Seungmin. Instead of speaking, he shifted you upright, pressing a water bottle to your lips and letting you glug a few helpful servings down. Once you felt quenched, you pushed his hand away softly. Or nudged it, in your blanket burrito. “What are you doing…?”

“Aftercare. You passed out after you came, and I was pretty mean so I think you went into subspace a little. How are you feeling?” Seungmin was speaking… to you? What? You decided to take it in your stride. He was cute, after all, and he’d dommed the fuck out of you with just words.

“I’m okay. Thank you, Seungmin,” You smiled teasingly. He rolled his eyes, but you could see the playful nature behind it this time. “You’re pretty nice, huh?”

“Only to nice people. I mean, you did pretty well there. I was… proud of you. You were really good, Y/N,” He was looking at you, giving you a genuine smile. You preened at the comment, before noticing a presence missing in the room. Seeing you looking around, Seungmin grinned. “He’s cooking. Do you think he’ll actually make me a plate this time?”

You scoffed. “No chance. You’re like a divorced couple.”

“So we’ve been told,” Seungmin mused. He turned to you again. “I’m glad you had a good time. I’m glad you’re having a good time. Okay?”

So many words were unspoken, but so many words were conveyed in the one sentence he told you. He wasn’t disgusted by you, not at all. He was just… like that. He was just Seungmin. You could finally understand why the others liked him. You nodded in response.

“Oh, and he wants round two. He’s upset he didn’t get to fuck you with the guys watching, so you better wash up. Or don’t, he’s probably into it.”

You nudged Seungmin with your shoulder teasingly, and he smiled at you again.

Felix was staring at you, before he walked over to you and threw himself into your lap. You were still in a blanket cocoon, fabric up to your chin like a sausage sitting upright. It was such a familiar action that it made you smile. “Did I make you feel good, bestie? I bet I was soooo worth the wait.”

You groaned, stomping your feet and trying to nudge Felix off. He simply giggled, thrashing around on your lap in happiness. “I’m gonna go find Minho, get off me.”

Felix hopped off and helped you up in your blanket burrito, smiling at you and ruffling your already messy hair. “Please don’t fuck while he’s cooking our food! Love you.”

You giggled. “Love you too, Lixie.”

Shuffling into the kitchen, you saw Minho standing there, an apron wrapped around his slim waist as he chopped up vegetables. Raising an eyebrow at his ass in his joggers, you couldn’t help but feel the heat returning to your tummy. As if he could feel your presence, Minho turned to you, smirking and looking you up and down in the blanket like you were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Oh, yeah. You met his eyes, licking your lips. You wanted a good round with your favourite, and you needed it yesterday.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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lucidlivi · 1 year

Text

Fuck A Friendship

Warnings: Strong Language, Mature Theme (rough sex), Mentions of Alcohol

Requested: @suckitands33

Anything Jensen/Dean Tags: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester

this will switch point of views, it will be indicated with italics

Reader

“what the fuck is wrong with you Dean? I had that!” I seethed.

Once again Dean had got in the way.

“yeah okay, you’re lucky I was there to save your ass…again!” He huffed throwing his bag down.

“hate to break it to you Dean but acting like a dick won’t make yours any bigger.”

I could see his eyes cloud over in rage.

“at least I’m not acting like an ungrateful bitch.” He jabbed.

“a bitch wow really? well then in that case I guess that means you’re not the only dog in the room.” I said rolling my eyes.

“maybe with all that eye rolling you’ll actually find a brain in that pretty little head of yours.” He smirked his words laced with anger.

“awe Dean I think you’re pretty too… pretty damn annoying.”

It was no secret Dean and I butted heads. I was sick of him treating me like a child. It was bad enough he treated Sam that way but now he was constantly looming over me too. I walked in to the study but of course he followed me. He always had to get the last word in any argument.

“how about we just skip right to the makeup sex.” Dean sneered.

“I’d rather set myself on fire.”

“oh please I know you think about me naked.” Dean said.

“why can’t you just drop things Dean?” I asked pulling a book out to research some lore.

I always calmed down faster when my mind was distracted.

“you didn’t deny it.” He smirked.

“please Dean feed your own ego, I’m busy”

“Oh come on just admit it, you want to have sex with me.”

“please, if anyone is having wet dreams it’s you about me.” I huffed flipping a page.

Dean smirked before ripping his shirt off.

“so then this doesn’t bother you at all?” He asked looking at me.

I huffed closing the book. I turned to Dean, he had a shit eating grin on his face that made me want to punch him.

I couldn’t deny though, his toned chest was gorgeous, especially the way it glistened with sweat after our rough hunt. My eyes traveled down to his abs, god they looked good too and… wait what am I saying?

“nope doesn’t bother me at all.” I said maybe a little too quickly.

“really cause it took you a minute.”

I quickly pulled my shirt over my head leaving me in just my bra. Dean looked shocked by my action.

“so this doesn’t bother you at all then?” I smirked.

I watched Dean’s pupils dilate as his eyes raked over my chest. He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to meet mine again.

“nope doesn’t bother me at all.” He spoke.

“so it wouldn’t bother you if I did this?”

I quickly grabbed the waistband of my pants sliding them down my legs painfully slow. Dean watched me with a lustful stare. I could see his jeans getting tighter around the crotch area. I didn’t know what had gotten in to me. I just wanted Dean to see I wasn’t this helpless child he had to look after.

Dean looked at me before taking his own pants down. We were now both stood in the study in just our under garments. There was a pause of silence as our eyes devoured each others body.

Dean crossed the room in two quick strides, crashing his lips to mine. I immediately kissed him back my hands going to his toned chest starting to explore. His hands made their way to my ass, picking me up and forcing me to wrap my legs around him.

He backed us up so my back was pressed up against the bookshelf. His lips left mine and traveled to my neck and down my collarbone. I could feel him throbbing against my leg. In one swift action Dean unclasped my bra letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck.” He whispered mouth traveling further down to my uncovered breasts.

I let out a moan as Dean took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking gently. My hands ran across his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms.

“you want this?” Dean growled, his hands squeezing my ass.

Of course I thought about having sex with Dean. He was undeniably gorgeous, even after a hunt.

“Please Dean.”

His hands left my ass, pulling his boxers down. I gasped as his full length sprung out. I had seen Dean in his boxers once before but now he looked much bigger. Without warning he pulled my panties to the side slamming himself in to me. I choked back a loud moan as I stretched around him.

He started to thrust, pressing my back harder against the bookshelf. He brought his lips back to mine taking my bottom lip between his teeth. I whimpered as he bit down lightly, his thrusts getting more rough as he went.

“Fuck Dean.” I moaned.

I gripped the bookshelf trying to steady myself.

Dean growls thrusting harder. It was rough but tender at the same time.

“maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” He groans, thrusts becoming sloppy.

“not likely.” I pant.

Dean groaned as his legs started to shake. He was close, as was I.

“Dean I’m gonna.” I started but he cut me off.

“Fuck, let go for me sweetheart.” He groaned.

I came undone, his words mixed with the pleasure being too much to bare. As I clenched around him, it brought his release too. I could feel the bruising already forming as my back was slammed against the bookshelf repeatedly. Once we rode out our high, Dean gently placed me on my feet again.

I took me a second to get my footing, my legs feeling stiff.

“you’re fucking stubborn, you know that? He growled, cleaning himself off.

“and you’re an overprotective asshole so it kind of evens out.” I smirked.

I quickly grabbed my clothes throwing my shirt back on and pulling on my pants.

“I’m going to clean up .” I said walking out of the room.

“wait..” Dean said making me pause.

“this..” he pointed between me and him “we shouldn’t tell Sam.”

“there’s nothing to tell Dean, we fucked, that’s it.” I said walking out of the study.

Dean

I watched her walk away, quickly throwing on my clothes. I’ve had sex with a lot of women, but something about it this time felt different. I shook it off, hearing the door opening signifying Sam had made his way back to the bunker.

“why do you look all sweaty?” He asked giving me an awkward look.

“I uh was, I mean it was uh a rough hunt.”

What the fuck? Why was I fumbling over my words? I never do that?

“wow what happened to the bookshelf? Sam asked pushing past me.

The books from where I had her pushed up against the shelf were in complete disarray, falling out on to the floor.

“I was looking for something.” Her voice spoke up from the doorway.

“I’ll fix them.” She added walking over and picking a book off the floor.

“I’ll help.” I offered leaning down next to her.

I studied her face as she focused on putting some loose leaf pages back in a book.

Did she always have light freckles over her nose? Were her eyes always that color?

“Why are you staring at me?” She whisper yelled so Sam couldn’t hear.

I cleared my throat tearing my eyes away from her.

“I’m not.” I defended even though I totally was.

I picked up another book putting it in its place. I gulped as I stared at the bookshelf.

The sounds of her heavenly moans filled my head. I could still see her naked body pressed up against it. I could feel myself getting harder just thinking about it. I quickly walked out of the study not wanting to get caught by Sam.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Dean where are you going, I have more information about a case?” Sam asked annoyed.

“Uh I’m starving I’m getting us some dinner and then I’ll be back.” I said hurrying away from her.

I stopped by my room, trying to control my breathing. I ran in to my bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face.

“get it together Dean.” I said to my image in the mirror.

Normally when I had sex with a girl, it was forgotten after I came. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about it now? I decided I needed to go for a drive, get some food and then maybe I’d be able to face her again.

Reader

“what’s his problem?” Sam asked as we watched Dean hurry out of the room.

I bit my lip shrugging my shoulders.

“did something happen on the hunt?” He asked scratching his head.

something definitely happened, but it wasn’t on the hunt.

“nope, hunt went perfect.” I lied as I finished arranging the books back to their original positions.

“I’m confused Dean said it was rough?”

Fuck.

“oh yeah, just a little, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”

It was amazing how easily I could lie to Sam.

“well are you okay?” Sam asked placing a hand on my back.

I flinched at the contact, my back sore from being slammed against the bookshelf by Dean. I bit my lip as the memory replayed in my head. I never realized how strong Dean truly was.

“I’m great.” I said giving him a thumbs up.

He looked like he didn’t believe me but thankfully he didn’t push any farther. I sat in the study looking over a book. My eyes were reading the words but my mind was too preoccupied.

Why did Dean leave so quickly? Why did I care?

It was around an hour later before Dean came strolling back in, food for all of us in his hand. He swallowed hard as he came closer to me handing me some food. He turned away from me quickly, taking the farthest seat away from me.

Sam started to tell us the information but I wasn’t really listening. My eyes traveled to Dean. His hands gripped the arms of the chair he sat on.

God have his hands always looked that nice? I imagined them wrapping around my throat making me bite back a moan.

Why am I thinking of Dean in this way?

I felt my cheeks flush as I tried to focus on what Sam was saying. I glanced at Dean as he spoke, I noticed the way his adams apple bobbed up and down with his deep voice. I could feel the heat pool between my legs. I needed to get away from Dean, I needed a drink.

“Is that all?” I asked, noticing both men had stopped talking.

“uh yeah I’m finished if that’s what you mean.” Sam said slightly offended by my outburst.

“Sorry Sammy rough day, I’m going to the bar for a drink.” I said standing up.

“I’ll go with you.” Dean spoke.

“NO” I spoke too quickly.

“I mean uh maybe I’m trying to meet someone.” I said mentally facepalming.

Why did I say that?

I could see Dean’s eyebrows lower as he stared me down. I quickly walked out of the room, throwing on my leather jacket. I couldn’t control my thoughts around Dean, I had to get away from him. I walked to the local bar having a seat and ordering a straight shot.

Why was Dean suddenly controlling my thoughts?

“excuse me, this seat taken?”

I turned around to see a handsome stranger staring down at me. He wasn’t Dean but, maybe a distraction would be nice.

“it is now.” I said pulling it out for him.

Dean

“I mean uh, maybe I’m trying to meet someone.” she spoke.

Meet someone?

I couldn’t help but feel the anger boiling up to the surface. It wasn’t even twenty four hours ago that she was wrapped around me and now she wants to meet someone?

Wait why did I even care if she met someone else. She said it herself, we fucked and that’s it.

“okay what the hell is up with you two?” Sam asked as she left the room.

“nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grumbled.

“you’re both being extra weird today, leaving in a haste, she’s flinching when I put my hand on her back..” he says but I cut him off.

“she flinched?” I asked in concern.

I knew I went rough, but I didn’t think I’d actually hurt her.

“did something happen to her?” Sam asked.

oh something definitely happened to her.

“nah, she’s tough.” I said standing up.

I don’t know why, but I needed to get to the bar. If she really was meeting someone, I had to make sure they weren’t some type of creature who was going to hurt her.

“come on Sammy, let’s go.” I said grabbing my jacket.

“where are we going?”

“to the bar.” I simply said.

“but she didn’t want you there.” He spoke crossing his arms across his chest and looking at me suspiciously.

“we’re going for you, you need to get laid, you’re way too uptight.” I said slapping a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged following me to baby. It was a quick drive to the bar. Once inside my eyes scanned the room for her. She sat at the far end of the bar, a man sitting beside her. I glared at him as she laughed at whatever bullshit joke he was telling. I could feel my blood boil as he placed a hand on her knee traveling up to her thigh.

“yeah we’re definitely here for me.” Sam joked.

I flicked my eyes to his but instead he was looking down at my hands. I didn’t notice but they were clenched into fists as I watched her flirt with him.

What am I feeling?

“it’s called jealousy.” Sam spoke beside me.

How did he read my mind?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I scowled ordering a beer.

I tried my best but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her at the end of the bar. I noticed she removed his hand from her leg instead holding it with her own. He leaned down whispering something in to her ear making her laugh again.

“what do you think he’s saying?” I asked looking over to where I thought Sam sat.

Sam was instead sat a few feet away from me, a cute brunette all over him.

“I’ll be damned Sammy.” I laughed watching her kiss over his neck.

I looked down at my beer chugging the rest of it down. I felt a hand slide across my shoulders, I flinched looking up to see a blonde in barely any clothing.

“what’s a handsome guy like you doing all by himself?” she asked, her fingers grazing my neck.

I pulled away gently.

“I guess I was waiting for someone like you.” I flirted.

This was the type of girl I usually picked up at the bar. She was more than willing to throw herself at me. She put her hands around my shoulders, wasting no time in kissing my jaw line.

I glanced back over to the end of the bar but I didn’t see her anymore. My eyes furiously looked around the room, finally catching a glimpse of (y/n) leading him out of the door by his hand. I quickly stood up causing the blonde to fall on the floor.

“what the hell is your problem.” she whined fixing her skirt.

“sorry I gotta go.” I said rushing out the door.

I didn’t want her to go home with him. She couldn’t.

I ran outside whipping my head around to see where she went. My heart sunk as she was nowhere in sight.

Fuck I was too late. She was gone.

“Fuck.” I growled running a hand through my hair.

“are you looking for me?”

Reader

I laughed at another joke he told. It wasn’t actually that funny but I didn’t want to bruise his ego. Too quickly his hand was placed on my knee traveling up to my thigh. I glanced up, my eyes catching sight of Sam first due to his height. Dean stood right beside him glaring in my direction.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

“did you hear me?”

James asked, or was his name Jake, I couldn’t remember now.

“sorry no I missed that.” I admitted.

James/Jake started to tell his story again but my eyes were on Dean who now took a seat at the bar. James/Jake’s hand was still rubbing my thigh making me slightly uncomfortable now. I grabbed it off, holding it in my own hand.

“so yeah I’m kind of a big deal now.” He whispered in my ear.

I laughed at him again. I didn’t know if it was an appropriate reaction to what he said but it usually worked for these types of situations. I glanced up at the other side of the bar, seeing a brunette ferociously attacking Sam’s neck with her lips. I laughed to myself. I noticed a blonde with minimal clothing making her way over to Dean. I felt the jealousy creeping up as she ran a hand across his shoulders.

“you’re not in to this are you?”

I flicked my eyes back to James/Jake. He was staring at me with a slight smile.

“i’m sorry Jake.” I said guessing on his name.

“it’s uh James.” He laughed.

“fuck right, sorry again.” I muttered.

“it’s that guy isn’t it?” James asked nodding his head towards Dean.

I didn’t know what it was about Dean though. It’s as if I was starting to see him in a whole new light.

“something about him yeah.” I replied biting my lip.

“I should go then, and you should talk to him.” James said offering me a smile.

I glanced back over seeing Dean giving his attention to the blonde girl all over him.

“I’ll walk you out.” I offered.

James smiled gratefully and walked with me out of the bar.

“uh I’m really sorry again.” I said dropping his hand finally.

“it’s okay, really. I hope you can sort out whatever it is.” he said offering me a small wave before getting in his car and driving off.

I sighed moving to lean against the side of the building. I sighed running a hand through my hair.

Why was I feeling this way?

Suddenly the door flew open, Dean came running out. He was furiously looking around, his eyes widening as he looked around the parking lot.

Was he looking for me?

“Fuck.” He growled running a hand through his hair.

“are you looking for me?” I hesitantly asked coming off the wall.

relief flooded Dean’s features as he spotted me.

“you didn’t go home with him?” he asked unsure if he was actually seeing me now.

“he’s not really my type, plus I don’t have sex twice with two different people in the same day.” I joked taking a step towards Dean.

“oh yeah, what about twice with the same person? Dean asked.

I could feel my cheeks heat up as he stood in front of me, cupping my cheek with his hand. He looked down at my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“It depends on the person.” I smirked.

“Me?”

“I think I could make an exception for you.”

At my consent Dean attached his lips to mine. I didn’t realize just how much I missed this sensation. Dean picked me up bridal style not breaking the kiss. He walked over to his car, depositing me in the back seat before climbing on top of me.

I reconnected our lips, tugging at his shirt. He pulled it over his head, dipping down to kiss my neck.

“Dean, wait.” I said pushing him off.

I could see the hurt flash in his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” I said biting my lip.

He gave me a confused look.

“I don’t know if I can have sex with you and still maintain a friendship afterwards.” I explained biting my lip.

“fuck a friendship.” Dean said.

It was my turn to give him a confused glance.

“I don’t want a friendship, I want so much more than that, I want to be the one you laugh at, I want to be the only guy who gets to touch you. I want so much more.” He confesses.

I felt my heart burst at his words. As a hunter, love and relationships weren’t a luxury we were afforded.

“if I’m being honest, it scares me to death and I tried to stop it, I tried my best, but I can’t stop thinking about you.” Dean added looking in my eyes.

He was saying everything I was thinking.

“fuck a friendship.” I said pulling him down for a kiss.

love and relationships were a luxury, but so was Dean, and this was one luxury I’d let myself afford.

Author Note:

Ooh I hope you liked it! I appreciate the request! Sorry it took me so long I wanted to make it perfect for you! If you have some crazy ideas send them my way! xoxo

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x you #sam and dean #jensen x reader #request #supernatural #supernatural smut #spn

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evangelic-echo · 2 months

Text

ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Part 1:

Teaser< >Part 2

Walking down the streets of heaven, sipping on a cold drink through the straw as you held a folder filled with boring paperwork you had filled out only just this morning. For the past week you've been dealing with all types of bullshit from the humans that you're trying to repair since your absence from Earth. Ever since Lucifer decided to give mankind the “gift” of free will, your job has become a lot more difficult than before.

“Thanks for the Luci”

Sera requested a meeting with you which isn’t too surprising. As the high Seraphim she was your supervisor, and she always seemed to want to bitch about one thing or another to you with her new found authority. Taking a final sip from your drink before throwing it away in a near by bin, you moved the huge folder from one hand to the next as you walked into the huge, pearlescent building in front of you.

“It’s nice to see you’re not late for once Y/N.”

You looked up at the huge Seraphim before you as you simply replied with a hum. After the whole ‘Lucifer making Eve eat the apple incident,’ Sera made sure to keep her distain towards you evident. Obviously making it clear that she blames you for the whole ordeal.

“I called you up here today to review a certain case l’m having trouble with-”

As sera was Talking the office door behinds you slams shut, interrupting the Angel before you. You look behind to see Emily, cringing as she looks back at the source of the loud noise, then look back in your direction and she smiles and waves at you.

“Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to overlay the massage that everything’s ready”

She beats her wings to fly closer to her sister, quickly whispering something in her ear. Furrowing your eyebrows as you look back and forth between them. Sure, Sera has always has some sort is stigma towards you and always makes it a point to tell you things last minute, or hell never tell you things at all. But you could tell there was a lot more to this meeting as she was letting on, honestly making you a little more nervous than you’d like to admit.

Turning back to face you Sera gives Emily another glance before resuming to what she was saying.

“Y/N, as you may of heard. The princess of Hell was up here in heaven as Lucifer, her father demanded that she pitch a certain idea of hers”

Sera pauses as to see your possible reaction to her bringing up an old friend of yours, acting as though his name curses whoever’s tongue dare speaks his name. You raise your eyebrows in response, signalling that she should continue.

“She has some sort of idea that sinners down in hell can be redeemed through the means of this ‘Hazbin Hotel’ she’s been building. We discussed it in court but it was decided that sinners in fact, can’t be redeemed and with that she was sent back down to hell.”

“Hm, you mean the same heavenly court where it was revealed that Adam’s Exorcist go down to hell once a year to exterminate sinners? I’m also assuming you mean the same court I wasn’t invited to but yet, l’m possibly the best person who could of been there as I work with those human souls 24/7 and know the most about these kind of things more than anyone else in that court? Yes I think I know exactly which one you’re talking about.”

You keep making eye contact with the Seraphim in front of you even after finishing your rant. She glares back at you, looking down then back up to your face as you still keep that same glare towards her.

“I think we both know why you weren’t welcome to sit in that court session, who knows how you’d react. Especially when you allow your emotions to drive you so.”

Your wings ruffle behind you, signalling you were fed up with Sera’s constant condescension towards you. You slightly fidget in your seat as your glare doesn’t budge from her face.

“I would’ve loved to meet the daughter of an old friend of mine. I’m not surprised you think of me so low and pathetic that you think I’ll have a tantrum by every little thing associated with him.”

“I also think it’s pathetic that you still think of him as a friend of yours, after everything he’s still done you see him as a pure little angel who’s done nothing wrong”

Leaning further back on the chair you were sat on, you crossed your leg on top of the other as you grinned up at the unnecessarily tall woman in front of you.

“If anything Sera, that proves I’ve moved on. I don’t allow hatred to control my feelings anymore, I suggest you don’t either.”

You had to admit that you were slightly lying to the Angel as you spoke those words, as you’d be a hypocrite if you weren’t, but it was worth it for that look on her face. Finally humbling her from that high horse of hers.

“Hellooo, I am the great Ssir Pentious~ It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance~”

You looked down at the weird snake man before you as he bowed his head towards the ground, tilting your head to the side in confusion. This is what Sera was so worried about? Looking back to the Seraphim’s who lead you here to try and get a little bit more information.

“Sir Pentious here is a ‘former’ demon from hell, who has apparently been redeemed through Charlie’s Hotel and has now, been sent up here in heaven.”

Your demeanour completely changes from one of uninterested to one of astonishment. Looking between the two sisters however, the totally different attitudes upon their faces told two very different stories. Sera of course couldn’t have looked more unamused with the situation even if she tried, Emily however looked ecstatic about the evidence of redemption, her hands clasping together in front of her chest as her wide smile and bulging eyes take over her features.

“This is a great day for Heaven and for Hell! We finally have evidence that redemption is indeed possible and now reason to stop those brutal exterminations, right Sera?”

Sera looks at her sister with a completely different demeanour than before, making herself seem for hopeful about the situation at hand.

“Of course Emily! Me and Y/N here will deal with it immediately, but I suggest for now you handle matters that your assistance a lot more than this one.”

You frowned while looking at the younger Seraphim, though her smile never fading from her features. She must be too excited of the news that she couldn’t hear the dishonesty in her older sisters voice.

With Emily now out of the room, Sera went back to looking uninterested as she did before, her focus now landing back on you and the former sinner besides you.

“Watching you lie to your poor sister is honestly disheartening Sera, dear Emily has a point. If redemption is now indeed possible, there is no need for the exterminations to continue-”

“That absolutely is not an option in this situation. Yes we now have proof that redemption is possible but that doesn’t differ us from the fact that hell may be planning an uproar against us, against heaven.”

Taken aback by the interruption, you turn your focus over to the former sinner beside you, noticing the awkward feeling he’s emitting from himself.

“If I may I assure you-”

“No you may not”

Sera now all riled up and irritated, springs her wings out from behind her as her angelic form starts to poke through from her annoyance. In response the man yelps and he steps behind you for safety from that death piercing gaze of hers, which then travel over to you.

Her wings retract back in towards her but the eyes now littered across her body remain where they are.

“I except you to deal with this matter Y/N, you constantly complain I do not give you the benefit of the doubt, you can use this as an opportunity to prove me wrong and maybe make up for your wrong doings from the past.”

Now you knew you absolutely had no choice in the matter, saying no wasn’t an option at all. But knowing the fact that all she wanted to do was just push all her mistakes onto you to fix was absolutely aggravating. However, keeping yourself calm was best for right now.

Nodding back to the woman as your response, she took that as her cue to leave, not seeing anymore reason to stay in this helpless situation.

As the door closed shut, the serpent who had been holding onto your shoulder for safeguarding had finally found it appropriate to let go after muttering an apology.

At least he was well mannered.

You turned to him offering a comforting smile. He’s probably been so confused for the past hour he’s been in heaven, and by God could you say he hasn’t gotten the normal, outgoing introduction normal new residents are greeted with when spawning at heavens great golden gates. Though you can admit his situation is quite different than others, you can sense his soul is worthy than every other soul up here in heaven among him.

You extend your arms, motioning him to sit at the table near by. He follows your direction and sits as you sat along side him, summoning a pen and notebook with your magic.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have some questions.”

A/N: AAAA THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR THE LIKES AND FOLLOWS FROM THE LAST POST🫶🫶🫶 You don’t know how much it means to me knowing that even just 50 people liked this new idea I’m exploring and I am so very grateful 🙏 .

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boneblushed · 1 year

Text

Untouchable

part 1 | part 2

synopsis it is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

wc 2K

Rafe Cameron likes to do this thing where he pretends that he's hopelessly in love with you.

Every morning, when you walk past him in the Academy carpark, he says, “Good morning, sweetheart.” Easy on the morning, rolling the sweet over his tongue so heart sounds thick as brown molasses. He always has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the emblem on his breast-pocket hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Sometimes you humour him. Often you avoid acknowledging him altogether.

He has a tendency to call you every pretty noun under the sun except your actual name. Though he has a certain predilection for sweetheart, he’ll always follow up your carpark rendezvous—if you could even call it that—with a, “Wait up, beautiful!” Gorgeous if you’re particularly unlucky. You’re pretty sure he does this because it’s more convenient than remembering your name; that, or he’s covering his ass in case he mixes you up with the other girls on his roster.

“C’mon,” he adds, catching you up with ease, “think you can give me a smile today, birdie?”

That’s a new one. You frown hard, conveying your disapproval at being branded by yet another nickname against your will.

“Think you can show me you deserve it, Cameron?”

Rafe slaps his hand against his chest, faux-affronted. “Oof, I’m wounded.” He grins fondly. “You know that it’s bad luck to ice out the Head Boy on the first day, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” you mutter grimly, quickening your pace in an attempt to create some distance from him. It’s a futile attempt at hostility; he’s heading to the same handsome office that you are, home to the Academy’s once imposing headmaster.

He’s gotten soft over the years. It’s the only explanation, really, for why he’s chosen such a diametrically opposed duo to be the Head Boy and Girl respectively. Where you’re serious, unsmiling, easy on the eyes and hard on the ego, Rafe Cameron is this cocky, deceptively charming wall of solid muscle. He’s attractive in that way that’s made him every girl’s default love interest, and even worse, he enjoys the attention as much as you absolutely hate it.

“Remind you?” Rafe echoes, feigning bemusement. “Of what? That we’re partners now, partner?”

You force a breath of air out through your nose, halting in your tracks and turning to face him. He doesn’t think you look nearly as formidable as you want to, especially with that sweet, little furrow between your eyebrows. He tries to look earnest, as if proving his maturity is going to make you hate him any less than you do.

He’s to blame for the animosity, of course — callow, sophomore year him who called you “seriously fucking hot” in the boy’s locker room, and then in the gym, within earshot, added, “shame she’s such a frigid bitch, huh?” He didn’t mean it, and he was very clearly wounded; if you could’ve seen his face as he’d said it, maybe the cracks in his armour of indifference would’ve been more obvious. Maybe you would’ve realised he was deflecting from the fact that your rejection had really hurt him.

But then again, maybe you wouldn’t have. Because in what world was yelling “Go out with me?”—crudely, callously, you might add—from across the classroom meant to be taken for real? You’d assumed that sophomore year him was making fun of you. When you said no, he assumed that sophomore year you just wasn’t interested.

Fast forward two years, to now, it’s clear that neither of those assumptions were wholly true. You walk past the front reception and toward the headmaster’s office in tandem, halting just short of his closed door, a polished knocker hanging directly above eye-level.

As you reach up and press it against the smooth mahogany, you send him a wayward glance. “Just because we have to work together this year,” you say evenly, “doesn’t mean we have to be friends. Alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, sending you a mock salute.

This just makes you frown harder than before, as if that’s fucking possible. He’s going to get a smile out of you if it fucking kills him. “I mean it, Cameron.” You let go of the knocker to punch your forefinger into his chest, eyes narrowed sternly. “No more sweetheart, beautiful, gorgeous, honey, whatever. If there’s one thing I deserve, as your,” you raise your fingers in air-quotes, “‘partner’, it’s a bit of respect. That clear?”

He’s never once called you honey. He raises his eyebrows. “Darling?”

You let out this sigh that’s more disappointment than frustration, like you didn’t want to deal with this, like you almost expected more from him. It makes his mouth go dry. “You know what?” you say, shaking your head defeatedly. “Never mind. I thought... I don't know, I thought that if Cromwell’d chosen you to be the Head Boy, maybe you’d done some growing up since sophomore year. But clearly he's getting old, because —”

“Who’s getting old?” A pleasant voice interrupts, the mahogany door in front of you jolting open abruptly. “Miss Y/L/N,” Headmaster Cromwell adds, mock-austere. “I sure hope you aren’t talking about me.”

“Headmaster Cromwell,” you answer, eyes widening sheepishly. “I didn’t mean —”

“She was talking about me, Crom-dog,” Rafe pipes up, throwing him arm around your shoulder genially. When he pulls you into his side, the smell of his vetiver and musk cologne grows ever present. “Us. How we’re no longer the scrawny little freshmen we were when we first met you.”

He pauses, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “Women, am I right? Always so sentimental.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, shaking him off in a hurry. “Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees with a grin, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the price you pay for a uniform blouse, he privately thinks it should be made of thicker fabric. He can still feel your soft skin pressing into all his finger calluses. “You wanted to see us, sir?”

He nods significantly, beckoning the two of you into his office. “Yes, yes, come in,” he says, taking a seat in his brown leather chair, the headrest cracking with age. “First day of senior year, eh? How are the two of you feeling?”

“Apprehensive,” you say, sending Rafe a glare.

He meets your gaze with something akin to amusement, his blue eyes full of mirth. “Sentimental.”

“Ah.” Cromwell raises his eyebrows, regarding the pair of you with interest. “And you’ll be conveying these emotions at your address this Friday, I imagine?”

Your head whips back to his desk, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “Oh. Um —”

“Because of course,” he adds, clasping his hands together on his desk, “the start of year speech isn’t just tradition, it’s a collaborative effort. As head students, leading the fortnightly school assemblies is going to be one of your biggest responsibilities.”

“Right,” you agree, nodding vigorously. “I assure you, Headmaster Cromwell, it’s all under control.”

Rafe turns to face you, surprised. “It is?”

“Of course it is, Cameron,” you answer tiredly, not bothering to meet his gaze.

Cromwell frowns. “A collaborative effort, Miss Y/L/N.”

You swallow a sigh, plastering on a smile before turning in tandem and nodding. Fake though it may be, being on the receiving end of one of your smiles makes Rafe unusually pleased. He grins back handsomely, his head cocked toward you in a way that accents his stubbled jawline.

“All I’m saying is,” you say carefully, the smile becoming more gritted teeth than anything remotely amicable, “I’ve… made a start on it. I know that you’ve got football trials to organise, so I thought —”

“Successfully delegated,” Rafe interjects. “Got Ollie organising them this year.” He pauses, leaning toward you and clearing his throat. “You know… to free up time for this partnership.”

“Excellent!” Cromwell exclaims before you’re able to protest, clapping his hands together approvingly. “Already taking initiative. Excellent, excellent…”

He reaches for the hefty stack of papers to his left, plucking off the two forms at the top of the pile. “Here,” he says, handing one to each of you. “A suggested programme for your first meeting with this year’s prefects.”

You accept it with a nod, scanning over the template before folding it once, twice, careful. Beside you, Rafe throws his into his bag callously, threatening a migraine.

“As you know, alongside the school assemblies, you’ll be in charge of timetabling prefect duties and maintaining order. Of course, we’ll meet every fortnight or so so I can check in — ensure everything’s running as smoothly as possible.” He pauses here, looking between you through assessing grey eyes. “Being the face of this institution is a massive undertaking, you two. You’re responsible for more than just the student body… you’re responsible for Kildare Academy’s legacy.” Another pause. “It can be quite the burden. It’s important that you trust each other… know that you can rely on one another.”

You clear your throat gauchely. Rafe feels this strange jolt in his chest as Cromwell’s words wash over him.

You’re saved the awkwardness of having to respectfully disagree with him by the peal of the bell, signalling the start of first period. Cromwell springs up and nods in dismissal, the lapels of his suit jacket quivering like jowls. “Alright then!” He exclaims, smiling jovially. “I look forward to hearing your address this Friday!”

You return his smile, albeit reluctantly, avoiding eye contact with Rafe as you turn around and exit. Though you’re determined to make it to class without having to engage in any more conversation, it appears Rafe Cameron’s more determined to do the opposite.

Scratch unnecessary though. He’s pretty sure every precious second that he’s trying for more receiving-end smile is another that shows him time is of the essence.

“What did you reckon?” He asks, messing with his dirty-blonde locks absentmindedly.

The side of his elbow brushes your blouse, and you begin to walk faster, incensed by his closeness. Despite this, he refuses to back down, “Think it’s true? Him retiring this year? Cause shit, it’d explain all that crap about responsibility and legacy.”

You frown at your feet and continue to soldier forward. Rafe tries again, “Remember when Jake was head boy? Kelce’s older brother? Swear to God he didn’t get speeches like that from Crommy… I mean, shit, he was doing all this and organising football practice, not to mention all the parties he—”

“Look,” you interrupt abruptly, letting out a tired sigh. “Yeah, whatever, I won’t tell Cromwell, alright? As long as you just… just do everything you’re scheduled to do.”

Rafe turns toward you, frowning bemusedly. “Huh?”

“That’s what you’re getting at, right?” You ask impatiently, because you’re late and the second bell is about to ring and you really don’t have time for this, not with Rafe Cameron. “Doing the bare minimum just like Jake Smith did? Because yeah, whatever, that’s fine — in fact, I’d almost prefer it to trying to work together.”

Rafe draws back slightly, regarding you for a moment. “Huh.” A pause. “You think I don’t deserve it.”

You balk at his expression, something dejected behind blue irises. “Well, I,” you hesitate, “no. I just… I don’t want to work with someone who doesn’t consider this a priority.”

“You’re a priority to me,” he says, referring to the guy sophomore year you had once rejected.

“Not me,” you mutter irritatedly, cheeks warming. “Head student stuff. You know — all those things Jake Smith got away with not doing?”

“As I seem to recall,” Rafe replies matter-of-factly, unperturbed, “I’ve already delegated football trials to Ollie to free up time.”

“For the speech,” you say slowly, unsure.

For you. “For the speech,” Rafe affirms, looking down at you in this sincere way that makes your head hurt.

You swallow. “Alright then. We’ll do it Wednesday after school.”

Rafe grins triumphantly, nudging your chin with the hook of his forefinger. “Your place or mine, sweetheart?”

“Cameron,” you warn, ducking out of his reach with a frown.

“Sorry.” He nods faux-apologetically. “You prefer honey, yeah?”

“If you call me anything other than my name, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”

“In my sleep?” He asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “So you’ll be on my bed, huh? Knew it. Knew you had a secret thing for me.”

“School library, Cameron,” you say grimly, beginning to walk away. “4pm on Wednesday. Don’t be late.”

Rafe nods again, sending you a mock salute. “Oh don’t worry,” he calls after you. “I never keep a lady waiting.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction

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celtic-crossbow · 10 months

Text

Cerberus

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post series end)

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries, mentions of pregnancy

Summary: You’ve found yourself in a less than ideal situation, handling as best you can. Good thing there’s always someone you can count on.

A/N: I am nearly finished with the request I’m working on but this little plot bunny wouldn’t stop hopping around with demand to be written. So here it is.

The jab to your face snapped back your head, tipping (almost overturning) the chair you were tied against. Your vision whited out before returning with a slight blur. You could feel the warm blood dripping steadily from your nostrils.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.” You chuckled, moving around your zip-tied wrists in an attempt to keep circulation.

The man in the middle of the four, the biggest,—the one throwing the punches—tossed back his head and laughed. You blinked wearily but held your smirk in place while the other three goons joined him. You refused to answer any questions so they did the same. You had no idea why their group had attacked Alexandria. The screaming coming from outside hadn’t stopped, but now gunfire had joined it. You had all been caught unaware. So many months with nothing but peace. A few walkers here and there, but otherwise, the fighting had stopped.

Maybe you had all let down your guard. Maybe you had grown soft. Why else would the community’s best fighters all be on a run together? You were one of them, but two pink lines on three tests swiped from the pantry had ensured you stayed put.

Another slap to your already bruising cheek brought you from your musings with a hiss.

“I asked you a question, bitch!”

“Sorry.” You swished saliva and blood around in your mouth before spitting it out onto his shoes. “Wasn’t listening.”

This time, the back of his hand connected with the opposite cheek. “Who is your leader?”

“Abraham Lincoln.” You answered quickly, wincing and flinching away when he raised his fist. He didn’t hit you this time but left the threat in the air.

“Who lives here with you?” He demanded, arm shaking.

“Just lil’ ol’ me and my guard dog.” You tried your best southern belle, batting your eyes at him sweetly. Your head snapped back again, your teeth catching your tongue and sending blood across the wall. You moved it around in your mouth after gathering your bearings, just to make sure you hadn’t bitten the damn thing off.

“Lousy guard dog you have.” The man smirked and turned to the men behind him. “Search the house. Kill anything that moves.” You listened to him speak his orders in a hushed tone but your eyes were on a shadow by the window outside. Just as quickly as you saw it, it was gone. “As for you, cunt.” He hissed, pulling out a large hunting knife.

You sat calmly, the smallest of smiles on your face.

The front door flew open and slapped against the wall behind it before teetering back and forth on the remaining hinge. There was a distinctive hiss before one of the men coming down the stairs began to gurgle, his body hitting the ground with a solid thud.

The remaining men gathered back in your living room, staring at the figure looming by the front door. Daryl dropped the crossbow and pulled his knives. He was trembling and breathing hard through his nose, blue eyes on fire. And you could tell no one but you and he would be alive after the next five minutes.

You leaned out a bit so he could see you behind the strangers. He had seen you from the window, you were almost certain, but just in case.

You cleared your throat. “Gentlemen.” Only the leader bothered to look away from the new threat, his eyes wide. Daryl moved then, all skill and fury, slicing flesh and coaxing screams from the men who had dared to touch you. You watched with a tired but satisfied smile.

“Meet my guard dog.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #Spotify

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Note

Your landlord is elusive. You've been calling him for weeks about the broken washing machine, your rent checks have gone uncashed, and you can't even leave a voicemail.

When he finally shows up, bloody and bruised, it seems there's more than the washer to tend to.

Oh, this is long overdue.

You Get What You Pay For

Pairing: God the Bounty Hunter x Female Reader Summary: Your landlord shows up expectedly after weeks of radio silence and prefers a different form of payment as you patch him up. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Injuries, b/lood, v/iolence, implied n/oncon (you have been warned), God the Bounty Hunter (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: For Roo and @the-slumberparty 's May challenge. Prompt in bold italics. Beta read by @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"I’m sorry, but the mailbox you are trying to reach is full."

With a sigh, you hung up the phone and took your laundry basket to the bathroom. Your landlord hadn’t answered a single call of yours in weeks, which was about how long you had gone without a working washing machine. And because you couldn’t leave a message and didn’t know how to fix it yourself, you had to resort to washing your clothes in the tub. You refused to go into town to use the laundromat or call someone to repair it. Not because you didn’t have the money to pay, but because you didn’t want anyone to see your face.

He wouldn’t know to look for me here though, would he?

You suddenly missed your old apartment as you turned the water on. It was warm and cozy, the opposite of the cold, quiet place you now occupied. You tried to brighten it up with flowers, but the house wasn’t a home. Maybe one day, years from now, you could go back to the city.

If it was ever deemed safe enough for you to return.

Your stomach sank as you pulled up your bank account to check the balance. It was much higher than it should have been. Not only was your landlord not answering his phone, but he hadn’t cashed a single one of your rent checks. The instructions were clear that he didn’t accept direct deposit or cash from tenants. Only checks made out to a rental property. Thankfully you opened a new account before you found the place, knowing better than to use your old account in case anyone checked it for paper trails.

Why isn’t he cashing my checks?

You shut the water off and got to work, doing your best not to let your mind race. Was your landlord ignoring you? Possibly. He was a bit of an enigma. A handsome man, but still an enigma. In fact, you had only seen him once and he told you to call him God when he introduced himself. The cold look in his blue eyes told you it wasn’t a joke as he unceremoniously put the keys in your hand.

“Welcome home.”

What if he found out what I did? Will he kick me out? Where will I go? What if someone found out I'm living here and went after him? If something happened to him because of me…

You had gone most of your life with keeping your head down and minding your own business, but it wasn't living. Opportunities slipped by because you either played it safe or didn't have the means to otherwise. So you got a little bold and maybe a little greedy. Why else had you stolen from a powerful man? He wasn’t a good man and you didn’t think he’d notice anything missing, but that was no excuse to rob him. You should’ve known he didn’t miss a thing.

And I was so careful until he caught me.

"I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch."

Looking back, you weren’t sure how you managed to get away. It was all a blur. He didn't call the cops. He wanted to take care of you himself. If he ever got his hands on you, he’d tear you apart before you begged for death. Because no one who crossed him lived to tell their tales. How far would he go to find you? What if he found God and made him an offer to sell you out?

Maybe it was time for you to move on to another place.

"First aid kit."

You spun around and caught yourself before you fell to the ground, your heart in your throat. In the doorway stood the very man you were trying to get ahold of, his short brown hair disheveled and sporting a black eye and blood on the corner of his mouth. Were you so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him enter the house? Or was he that quiet?

"Are you going to help me or stare at me?" he asked, clutching his ribs as he took a step inside. "And here I thought you were a hospitable tenant."

"Sorry," you whispered, tightening your robe. He hardly gave you any room as you got the kit out from under the sink. The bathroom wasn’t that small, so why was he practically on top of you? "Here, let me help."

You carefully guided him to the toilet, but he didn't seem to need your help. Even sitting down, his size and presence intimidated you. Was that blood on his torn shirt? And his jeans, too?

What the hell happened to him? Or does that blood belong to someone else?

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he answered dryly. "You should see the other guy."

You weren't going to push for him to say more.

He didn’t flinch as you cleaned the blood from his face. He didn’t take his eyes off you either as you carefully looked him over. You tried to ignore his stare, but the silence grew more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

"Why are your clothes in the bathtub?" he asked, surprising you by yanking on the tie to your robe. It, thankfully, didn’t open. "You know there's a washer for that."

"I'm aware that there's a washer, but it isn't working and you didn't answer your phone," you said, keeping your tone light instead of accusatory.

"Is that right? And you couldn't use the laundromat in town until you could get in touch with me?" he asked, an amused look in his eyes as you went rigid. Why did that gaze make you more uncomfortable than his previous dull stare? "I’ll look at it later. Sure it won’t take me long to fix it."

“I appreciate that," you said, wondering when you should mention the uncashed rent checks. "But let's get you taken care of first."

He grunted before he removed his shirt, tossing the garment in the tub with your clothes. "What’s one more, right?" he asked, sitting back and gesturing to his muscular torso littered with bruises and minor cuts. "Don’t think they’re too bad, but I’d prefer if you check."

"You do know I’m not a nurse, right?" you asked, even as you moved to look him over. There was a particularly dark bruise by his ribs, which was likely why he held them as he walked in. "just saying in case you wanted a professional opinion or if anything is really sore."

He hummed as your fingertips brushed along his skin. "Told you I'm peachy. And I'm sure you would’ve made a fine nurse if you really wanted to be one."

Your heart thudded in your chest at his use of the past tense, like you would never get the chance. Maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you. It was a simple statement. It didn’t mean a thing.

"School can be pretty expensive though," he went on with a tilt of his head. "Is that what kept you back? Finances?"

Your stomach turned at the question. He didn't blink and you hoped your expression didn't give your nerves away. Did he know? If he did, why dance around it?

"May I ask what happened?" you questioned as he furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry. It's none of my-"

"I killed some people."

Tension spiked in the small room, a nervous laugh escaping as you tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Dry humor occasionally went over your head. "You what? Y-You killed some people?"

"Yeah, I did. I kill a lot of people. Usually for money." he said unemotionally, clamping a hand around your wrist when you tried to pull away. "Not why I did it this time."

The ring on his third finger dug into your skin as you fought down the bile rising to your throat. He wasn't just an enigma. He was a killer. A man who spoke so casually about murder. Were you about to become his next victim? "Are you going to kill me?"

"Now why would I do that?" he asked as he stood, keeping a firm grip on you as he backed you against the sink, your legs almost giving out. "After everything I did for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You think I didn't do my research on you? I can spot when someone's on the run, sweetheart. Though I didn't peg you for a thief," he answered as your eyes brimmed with tears. The sight didn't seem to inspire any sympathy considering he smiled. "You stole money from a powerful man. Dangerous, too. And you really thought hiding out here would save you?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, finding it harder to breathe as he stepped closer. It wasn't an empty apology. You made a stupid mistake. "I tried to give it back, but he-"

"I don't care why you did it," he dismissed, toying with the tie of your robe again. "He was an asshole who robbed people blind for years. I did the world a favor by killing him."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "He's really gone?" you asked, shaking a bit when he yanked the robe open. "What are you doing?"

"I killed him and his bodyguards before they could get to you. They got a few lucky hits in. Stroked their egos a bit before I took them out," he went on like he hadn't heard you, grazing his fingertips along your skin. "I took a big risk going after him for you. Very high profile."

"I didn't ask you to do that," you tried to reason.

"And since no one paid me and you kind of owe me for saving you," he continued, his fingers stopping just above your mound. "I decided I'm going to keep you."

You weren't sure if it was a form of shock you were experiencing because your mind screamed at you to fight, but you couldn't move. You could hardly find the word to speak. "Keep me?"

"Yeah. Keep you. Gets lonely sometimes," he shrugged, gazing unashamedly at your exposed chest. "Plus I wanted to fuck you the moment you showed up here. Now I can whenever I want."

Your eyes widened as he lifted his gaze to yours, a flash of darkness in his eyes when you tried, and failed, to shove him back. "You can't just keep me!" you blurted out, trying not to panic. You couldn't stay trapped there with him. Was he delusional in thinking you'd agree to that?

"Did you not hear what I said? I saved your life. You should be thanking me," he said, frowning when you glanced toward the door. Maybe you could break free. "What, you think you can run away? Get help? No one is going to save you from me."

He was right. You had no one to go to. What if you did and he went after them? Who would help you when you couldn't help yourself?

"Please, let me go," you begged, your tears spilling over as he spun you to face the mirror. You hissed as your hips dug into the counter, but your discomfort didn't matter to him. "You can have the money. All of it. I won't tell anyone. I swear!"

"I don't want your money," he said, kicking your feet apart. You felt his arousal as he pressed against you and it was enough to make you whimper. "Why do you think I haven't cashed your checks?"

"God, please," you said, shutting your eyes when he wrapped his hand around your throat. You didn't want to see his dark desire in the reflection.

"You'll say that again before I'm done with you and you'll watch as I take my first payment," he promised, your heart dropping as your new reality began to sink in. "Now be good and welcome me home."

Oh, what have I done? Love and thanks for reading!

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy and roo's sleepover #god the bounty hunter x reader #god the bounty hunter x female reader #god the bounty hunter x you #god the bounty hunter x y/n #god the bounty hunter #god the bounty hunter fanfiction #god the bounty hunter imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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deans-queen · 3 months

Text

Love Or Die 💜🔪

Mini Series

Paring: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (Y/N) -> story will be told mostly in Reader’s P.O.V.

Plot: Reader (Y/N) can’t stand Dean Winchester and everything about him, but she has a secret and that is: she’s madly in love with him.

Inspired by the song: Can’t Hold On Forever by Laura Marano

Part 1 - Reader’s P.O.V.

Warning: Language

I have been hunting since I was 18 (I’m 25 now) but I’ve never worked with anyone as cocky, annoying and arrogant as Dean Winchester. I started hunting with him, his younger brother Sam and my Uncle /Godfather Bobby Singer since my parents died. Uncle Bobby has been looking after me the past year and I couldn’t be more grateful. He’s always been like a father figure to me. But Dean on the other hand….was a huge pain in the ass. I couldn’t stand him, and I made it pretty well known. But… I had a secret. A secret that no one knows. I'm also unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. It all started last month, when he saved me from getting kidnapped by a witch that wanted to suck the life out of me to make her more youthful. He was so brave and took care of me, like a knight in shining armor. Since then I’ve had to hide how I felt….It wasn’t too hard to act like I didn’t have feelings, but it was at the same time. Under all that arrogance and self-confidence, he was so damn hot. He was tall, muscular (not like a body builder but his body was toned) and had short brown hair. He had a jawline so sharp and perfect that it could cut you in half. His hands were strong but also calloused, I imagined the way they would feel on my body. His lips were perfect. Looking soft, plump and kissable at the same time. I wanted to kiss them so damn much. And to top it off….he had the most amazing, perfect smile and GORGEOUS emerald green eyes. When I looked into them, I could melt like a popsicle on the 4th of July. There were days when he would be casually walking around, acting nonchalantly and I would find myself staring at him. I would snap out of it when he would say “Take a picture, sweetheart it’ll last longer.” Then I would have to fire back a snarky remark like, “In your dreams, Winchester.” And I’d roll my eyes. On the inside I was screaming, I don’t know how much longer I could keep this up.

The Next Day

We were working on a case, with a bunch of ghosts haunting this old abandoned New Orleans type esque mansion. This group of teenagers heard about it being haunted and wanted to check it out. And of course one of the girls winds up murdered. Her name was Jessica. What a bunch of idiots. Don’t they know it’s frowned upon to mess with haunted places. Anyways…while Sam and Uncle Bobby stayed behind to do research on the house, Dean and I went downtown to the police station to interview the teenagers. One of the things I loved about being a hunter was dressing up as an undercover FBI Agent. I always wore a black pencil skirt, with a white buttoned up blouse and heels. It made me feel like a bad bitch. Dean was wearing a suit and tie, which he looked so handsome in. Once we got there, the boyfriend of the girl who was killed was in an interview room. As we walked into the room, I noticed this kid was drooling over me, which Dean noticed. “Mr. Montgomery, I’m Agent Smith and this is my partner Agent Parker.” Dean said firmly while we both flashed our badges. “Alright, Mr…” I said while taking a seat at the table, trying to sound professional. Dean took a seat next to me. “Mike, you can call me Mike.” He said, interrupting and winking at me. “Okay, Mike.” I said, clearing my throat. “Why’d you go down to that haunted house?” “Look, I already talked to the cops about this. Why is the FBI questioning me now?” “We’re just doing our job Mike,” I said. “Now please, tell us what happened.” “Jess, my friends and I heard the stories about the house being haunted and we wanted to see if it was true.” He explained that when they walked through the house, they could feel the cold air around them. They heard strange noises, silent whispers, and objects flying out of nowhere. Warning them to stay away. “And don’t you think going in that house was a stupid idea?!” Dean said, shouting at him. I mean he wasn’t wrong, it was a very stupid idea. “Well - I - uh…” he said, stuttering. Dean was making him so nervous that his palms were clammy and sweat was beaming on his forehead. Mike finally looked at me and said, “I didn’t think anyone was gonna get hurt! Especially Jess.” He said. “Too little too late for that one buddy.” I said while crossing my arms. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I thought it was stupid and all a joke!” He shouted “If I could take it all back I could.” He said softly, putting his hands in his face. I sighed and looked at him. I was in his shoes once. I used to believe that all this supernatural stuff was a joke, but then my parents explained to me that it’s all real. The ghosts, monsters, everything. I got up and put my hand on his shoulder, I could tell that he was being sincere. “Listen, Mike I know it’s hard not to believe this stuff, but believe me when I say this: it’s all real. And uh, I know how hard it is to lose someone you care about. It can be tough but you’ll get through it, I promise.” “Thanks Agent.” He said while flashing a smile at me. Dean cleared his throat and I removed my hand. “Okay well that’s it for today.” Dean said, and he handed out a business card to Mike. “Call us if you find anything else.” And then he rushed out of the room. “Bye,” Mike said quietly. I gave him a small smile and a quick wave before heading out the door. “What the hell was that Dean?” I said sternly while catching up to him as he walked towards the Impala. “That kid was totally giving you googly eyes, Y/N” he said, climbing in and slamming the door. Is he for real right now? “And why does it matter if he was, it’s not like I can do anything with him. He’s a teenager.” I said, going into the passenger seat. He started the engine and drove off. “It doesn’t matter. He’s 17, probably thinks more with his dick more than his mind.” “Oh and like you don’t either Dean??” I said. He looked at me coldly, gripping his hands on the steering wheel. He continued to drive down the road. “Are you jealous??” “Uhhh no, no no no.” He said, shaking his head. “Whatever Winchester.” I said, looking away from him.

And we continued our drive back to Uncle Bobby’s house in silence.

Authors Note:

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capricorn-season · 9 months

Text

10 JUNE 2020

J.K. Rowling Writes about Her Reasons for Speaking out on Sex and Gender Issues

Warning: The below content is not appropriate for children. Please check with an adult before you read this page.

This isn’t an easy piece to write, for reasons that will shortly become clear, but I know it’s time to explain myself on an issue surrounded by toxicity. I write this without any desire to add to that toxicity.

For people who don’t know: last December I tweeted my support for Maya Forstater, a tax specialist who’d lost her job for what were deemed ‘transphobic’ tweets. She took her case to an employment tribunal, asking the judge to rule on whether a philosophical belief that sex is determined by biology is protected in law. Judge Tayler ruled that it wasn’t.

My interest in trans issues pre-dated Maya’s case by almost two years, during which I followed the debate around the concept of gender identity closely. I’ve met trans people, and read sundry books, blogs and articles by trans people, gender specialists, intersex people, psychologists, safeguarding experts, social workers and doctors, and followed the discourse online and in traditional media. On one level, my interest in this issue has been professional, because I’m writing a crime series, set in the present day, and my fictional female detective is of an age to be interested in, and affected by, these issues herself, but on another, it’s intensely personal, as I’m about to explain.

All the time I’ve been researching and learning, accusations and threats from trans activists have been bubbling in my Twitter timeline. This was initially triggered by a ‘like’. When I started taking an interest in gender identity and transgender matters, I began screenshotting comments that interested me, as a way of reminding myself what I might want to research later. On one occasion, I absent-mindedly ‘liked’ instead of screenshotting. That single ‘like’ was deemed evidence of wrongthink, and a persistent low level of harassment began.

Months later, I compounded my accidental ‘like’ crime by following Magdalen Berns on Twitter. Magdalen was an immensely brave young feminist and lesbian who was dying of an aggressive brain tumour. I followed her because I wanted to contact her directly, which I succeeded in doing. However, as Magdalen was a great believer in the importance of biological sex, and didn’t believe lesbians should be called bigots for not dating trans women with penises, dots were joined in the heads of twitter trans activists, and the level of social media abuse increased.

I mention all this only to explain that I knew perfectly well what was going to happen when I supported Maya. I must have been on my fourth or fifth cancellation by then. I expected the threats of violence, to be told I was literally killing trans people with my hate, to be called cunt and bitch and, of course, for my books to be burned, although one particularly abusive man told me he’d composted them.

What I didn’t expect in the aftermath of my cancellation was the avalanche of emails and letters that came showering down upon me, the overwhelming majority of which were positive, grateful and supportive. They came from a cross-section of kind, empathetic and intelligent people, some of them working in fields dealing with gender dysphoria and trans people, who’re all deeply concerned about the way a socio-political concept is influencing politics, medical practice and safeguarding. They’re worried about the dangers to young people, gay people and about the erosion of women’s and girl’s rights. Above all, they’re worried about a climate of fear that serves nobody – least of all trans youth – well.

I’d stepped back from Twitter for many months both before and after tweeting support for Maya, because I knew it was doing nothing good for my mental health. I only returned because I wanted to share a free children’s book during the pandemic. Immediately, activists who clearly believe themselves to be good, kind and progressive people swarmed back into my timeline, assuming a right to police my speech, accuse me of hatred, call me misogynistic slurs and, above all – as every woman involved in this debate will know – TERF.

If you didn’t already know – and why should you? – ‘TERF’ is an acronym coined by trans activists, which stands for Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist. In practice, a huge and diverse cross-section of women are currently being called TERFs and the vast majority have never been radical feminists. Examples of so-called TERFs range from the mother of a gay child who was afraid their child wanted to transition to escape homophobic bullying, to a hitherto totally unfeminist older lady who’s vowed never to visit Marks & Spencer again because they’re allowing any man who says they identify as a woman into the women’s changing rooms. Ironically, radical feminists aren’t even trans-exclusionary – they include trans men in their feminism, because they were born women.

But accusations of TERFery have been sufficient to intimidate many people, institutions and organisations I once admired, who’re cowering before the tactics of the playground. ‘They’ll call us transphobic!’ ‘They’ll say I hate trans people!’ What next, they’ll say you’ve got fleas? Speaking as a biological woman, a lot of people in positions of power really need to grow a pair (which is doubtless literally possible, according to the kind of people who argue that clownfish prove humans aren’t a dimorphic species).

So why am I doing this? Why speak up? Why not quietly do my research and keep my head down?

Well, I’ve got five reasons for being worried about the new trans activism, and deciding I need to speak up.

Firstly, I have a charitable trust that focuses on alleviating social deprivation in Scotland, with a particular emphasis on women and children. Among other things, my trust supports projects for female prisoners and for survivors of domestic and sexual abuse. I also fund medical research into MS, a disease that behaves very differently in men and women. It’s been clear to me for a while that the new trans activism is having (or is likely to have, if all its demands are met) a significant impact on many of the causes I support, because it’s pushing to erode the legal definition of sex and replace it with gender.

The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.

The third is that, as a much-banned author, I’m interested in freedom of speech and have publicly defended it, even unto Donald Trump.

The fourth is where things start to get truly personal. I’m concerned about the huge explosion in young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning (returning to their original sex), because they regret taking steps that have, in some cases, altered their bodies irrevocably, and taken away their fertility. Some say they decided to transition after realising they were same-sex attracted, and that transitioning was partly driven by homophobia, either in society or in their families.

Most people probably aren’t aware – I certainly wasn’t, until I started researching this issue properly – that ten years ago, the majority of people wanting to transition to the opposite sex were male. That ratio has now reversed. The UK has experienced a 4400% increase in girls being referred for transitioning treatment. Autistic girls are hugely overrepresented in their numbers.

The same phenomenon has been seen in the US. In 2018, American physician and researcher Lisa Littman set out to explore it. In an interview, she said:

‘Parents online were describing a very unusual pattern of transgender-identification where multiple friends and even entire friend groups became transgender-identified at the same time. I would have been remiss had I not considered social contagion and peer influences as potential factors.’

Littman mentioned Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube as contributing factors to Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, where she believes that in the realm of transgender identification ‘youth have created particularly insular echo chambers.’

Her paper caused a furore. She was accused of bias and of spreading misinformation about transgender people, subjected to a tsunami of abuse and a concerted campaign to discredit both her and her work. The journal took the paper offline and re-reviewed it before republishing it. However, her career took a similar hit to that suffered by Maya Forstater. Lisa Littman had dared challenge one of the central tenets of trans activism, which is that a person’s gender identity is innate, like sexual orientation. Nobody, the activists insisted, could ever be persuaded into being trans.

The argument of many current trans activists is that if you don’t let a gender dysphoric teenager transition, they will kill themselves. In an article explaining why he resigned from the Tavistock (an NHS gender clinic in England) psychiatrist Marcus Evans stated that claims that children will kill themselves if not permitted to transition do not ‘align substantially with any robust data or studies in this area. Nor do they align with the cases I have encountered over decades as a psychotherapist.’

The writings of young trans men reveal a group of notably sensitive and clever people. The more of their accounts of gender dysphoria I’ve read, with their insightful descriptions of anxiety, dissociation, eating disorders, self-harm and self-hatred, the more I’ve wondered whether, if I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. I struggled with severe OCD as a teenager. If I’d found community and sympathy online that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment, I believe I could have been persuaded to turn myself into the son my father had openly said he’d have preferred.

When I read about the theory of gender identity, I remember how mentally sexless I felt in youth. I remember Colette’s description of herself as a ‘mental hermaphrodite’ and Simone de Beauvoir’s words: ‘It is perfectly natural for the future woman to feel indignant at the limitations posed upon her by her sex. The real question is not why she should reject them: the problem is rather to understand why she accepts them.’

As I didn’t have a realistic possibility of becoming a man back in the 1980s, it had to be books and music that got me through both my mental health issues and the sexualised scrutiny and judgement that sets so many girls to war against their bodies in their teens. Fortunately for me, I found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians who reassured me that, in spite of everything a sexist world tries to throw at the female-bodied, it’s fine not to feel pink, frilly and compliant inside your own head; it’s OK to feel confused, dark, both sexual and non-sexual, unsure of what or who you are.

I want to be very clear here: I know transition will be a solution for some gender dysphoric people, although I’m also aware through extensive research that studies have consistently shown that between 60-90% of gender dysphoric teens will grow out of their dysphoria. Again and again I’ve been told to ‘just meet some trans people.’ I have: in addition to a few younger people, who were all adorable, I happen to know a self-described transsexual woman who’s older than I am and wonderful. Although she’s open about her past as a gay man, I’ve always found it hard to think of her as anything other than a woman, and I believe (and certainly hope) she’s completely happy to have transitioned. Being older, though, she went through a long and rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation. The current explosion of trans activism is urging a removal of almost all the robust systems through which candidates for sex reassignment were once required to pass. A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law. Many people aren’t aware of this.

We’re living through the most misogynistic period I’ve experienced. Back in the 80s, I imagined that my future daughters, should I have any, would have it far better than I ever did, but between the backlash against feminism and a porn-saturated online culture, I believe things have got significantly worse for girls. Never have I seen women denigrated and dehumanised to the extent they are now. From the leader of the free world’s long history of sexual assault accusations and his proud boast of ‘grabbing them by the pussy’, to the incel (‘involuntarily celibate’) movement that rages against women who won’t give them sex, to the trans activists who declare that TERFs need punching and re-educating, men across the political spectrum seem to agree: women are asking for trouble. Everywhere, women are being told to shut up and sit down, or else.

I’ve read all the arguments about femaleness not residing in the sexed body, and the assertions that biological women don’t have common experiences, and I find them, too, deeply misogynistic and regressive. It’s also clear that one of the objectives of denying the importance of sex is to erode what some seem to see as the cruelly segregationist idea of women having their own biological realities or – just as threatening – unifying realities that make them a cohesive political class. The hundreds of emails I’ve received in the last few days prove this erosion concerns many others just as much. It isn’t enough for women to be trans allies. Women must accept and admit that there is no material difference between trans women and themselves.

But, as many women have said before me, ‘woman’ is not a costume. ‘Woman’ is not an idea in a man’s head. ‘Woman’ is not a pink brain, a liking for Jimmy Choos or any of the other sexist ideas now somehow touted as progressive. Moreover, the ‘inclusive’ language that calls female people ‘menstruators’ and ‘people with vulvas’ strikes many women as dehumanising and demeaning. I understand why trans activists consider this language to be appropriate and kind, but for those of us who’ve had degrading slurs spat at us by violent men, it’s not neutral, it’s hostile and alienating.

Which brings me to the fifth reason I’m deeply concerned about the consequences of the current trans activism.

I’ve been in the public eye now for over twenty years and have never talked publicly about being a domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor. This isn’t because I’m ashamed those things happened to me, but because they’re traumatic to revisit and remember. I also feel protective of my daughter from my first marriage. I didn’t want to claim sole ownership of a story that belongs to her, too. However, a short while ago, I asked her how she’d feel if I were publicly honest about that part of my life, and she encouraged me to go ahead.

I’m mentioning these things now not in an attempt to garner sympathy, but out of solidarity with the huge numbers of women who have histories like mine, who’ve been slurred as bigots for having concerns around single-sex spaces.

I managed to escape my first violent marriage with some difficulty, but I’m now married to a truly good and principled man, safe and secure in ways I never in a million years expected to be. However, the scars left by violence and sexual assault don’t disappear, no matter how loved you are, and no matter how much money you’ve made. My perennial jumpiness is a family joke – and even I know it’s funny – but I pray my daughters never have the same reasons I do for hating sudden loud noises, or finding people behind me when I haven’t heard them approaching.

If you could come inside my head and understand what I feel when I read about a trans woman dying at the hands of a violent man, you’d find solidarity and kinship. I have a visceral sense of the terror in which those trans women will have spent their last seconds on earth, because I too have known moments of blind fear when I realised that the only thing keeping me alive was the shaky self-restraint of my attacker.

I believe the majority of trans-identified people not only pose zero threat to others, but are vulnerable for all the reasons I’ve outlined. Trans people need and deserve protection. Like women, they’re most likely to be killed by sexual partners. Trans women who work in the sex industry, particularly trans women of colour, are at particular risk. Like every other domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor I know, I feel nothing but empathy and solidarity with trans women who’ve been abused by men.

So I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe. When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.

On Saturday morning, I read that the Scottish government is proceeding with its controversial gender recognition plans, which will in effect mean that all a man needs to ‘become a woman’ is to say he’s one. To use a very contemporary word, I was ‘triggered’. Ground down by the relentless attacks from trans activists on social media, when I was only there to give children feedback about pictures they’d drawn for my book under lockdown, I spent much of Saturday in a very dark place inside my head, as memories of a serious sexual assault I suffered in my twenties recurred on a loop. That assault happened at a time and in a space where I was vulnerable, and a man capitalised on an opportunity. I couldn’t shut out those memories and I was finding it hard to contain my anger and disappointment about the way I believe my government is playing fast and loose with womens and girls’ safety.

Late on Saturday evening, scrolling through children’s pictures before I went to bed, I forgot the first rule of Twitter – never, ever expect a nuanced conversation – and reacted to what I felt was degrading language about women. I spoke up about the importance of sex and have been paying the price ever since. I was transphobic, I was a cunt, a bitch, a TERF, I deserved cancelling, punching and death. You are Voldemort said one person, clearly feeling this was the only language I’d understand.

It would be so much easier to tweet the approved hashtags – because of course trans rights are human rights and of course trans lives matter – scoop up the woke cookies and bask in a virtue-signalling afterglow. There’s joy, relief and safety in conformity. As Simone de Beauvoir also wrote, “… without a doubt it is more comfortable to endure blind bondage than to work for one’s liberation; the dead, too, are better suited to the earth than the living.”

Huge numbers of women are justifiably terrified by the trans activists; I know this because so many have got in touch with me to tell their stories. They’re afraid of doxxing, of losing their jobs or their livelihoods, and of violence.

But endlessly unpleasant as its constant targeting of me has been, I refuse to bow down to a movement that I believe is doing demonstrable harm in seeking to erode ‘woman’ as a political and biological class and offering cover to predators like few before it. I stand alongside the brave women and men, gay, straight and trans, who’re standing up for freedom of speech and thought, and for the rights and safety of some of the most vulnerable in our society: young gay kids, fragile teenagers, and women who’re reliant on and wish to retain their single sex spaces. Polls show those women are in the vast majority, and exclude only those privileged or lucky enough never to have come up against male violence or sexual assault, and who’ve never troubled to educate themselves on how prevalent it is.

The one thing that gives me hope is that the women who can protest and organise, are doing so, and they have some truly decent men and trans people alongside them. Political parties seeking to appease the loudest voices in this debate are ignoring women’s concerns at their peril. In the UK, women are reaching out to each other across party lines, concerned about the erosion of their hard-won rights and widespread intimidation. None of the gender critical women I’ve talked to hates trans people; on the contrary. Many of them became interested in this issue in the first place out of concern for trans youth, and they’re hugely sympathetic towards trans adults who simply want to live their lives, but who’re facing a backlash for a brand of activism they don’t endorse. The supreme irony is that the attempt to silence women with the word ‘TERF’ may have pushed more young women towards radical feminism than the movement’s seen in decades.

The last thing I want to say is this. I haven’t written this essay in the hope that anybody will get out a violin for me, not even a teeny-weeny one. I’m extraordinarily fortunate; I’m a survivor, certainly not a victim. I’ve only mentioned my past because, like every other human being on this planet, I have a complex backstory, which shapes my fears, my interests and my opinions. I never forget that inner complexity when I’m creating a fictional character and I certainly never forget it when it comes to trans people.

All I’m asking – all I want – is for similar empathy, similar understanding, to be extended to the many millions of women whose sole crime is wanting their concerns to be heard without receiving threats and abuse.

#women #gender critical #jk rowling #text #artículo

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notafunkiller · 9 months

Text

all's well that ends well

Summary: Bucky watches the interview.

Pairing: director!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader

Warnings: fluff (Bucky comforts the reader), age gap (r is 24, Bucky is 36), teasing, language, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.1K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: An extra thank you to @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for being my beta readers and for the endless support.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

At first, you don’t notice the change in his attitude, still talking with your sister over the phone about her new manager. You lip-sync the word popcorn, and he simply shakes his head, immediately looking down at his phone again as you go to the kitchen.

Only after you hang up and return with some snacks he didn’t bring before you paused the movie, you sense his tension. A lot of tension. He doesn’t even seem to hear you as you silently place the candies on the table and sit on the couch so close to him that your legs are touching.

“Work?” You ask, knowing he recently had some disagreements with one of the producers he’s working with.

He puts down his phone instead of directly answering and drags you onto his lap.

You gasp, surprised.

“Buck!”

“Why did you not tell me?”

Tell him what? You’re genuinely confused because you don’t remember keeping a secret away from him.

“Huh?”

“About the interview.”

You don’t know what interview he’s talking about for a couple of seconds, but when it hits you, you get red, grabbing his face with both of your hands.

“Fuck her…”

“She disrespected you!”

“No, she disrespected you more than me by insinuating something like that. I am new, I understand, but you’ve been around for a decade. I wanted to curse her so badly.”

Not even your last sentence can make Bucky laugh. He’s so serious and upset, you try to stroke his cheeks in order to soften him up.

You care, of course you do, but not that much since they can’t see the bigger picture.

They can call you a whore all they want, you can prove them wrong by working… but when it comes to Bucky? You can’t accept it. Bucky is the sweetest, and most honest guy you’ve ever met in this industry. He isn’t using his advantages as a director for anything, especially to get a woman.

“You answered very well.” He kisses your palms, one by one. “But you didn’t have to defend me. You should have told her she is a bitch and walked away.”

You laugh at the way he said bitch and get more comfortable on his lap.

“She is a bitch, indeed. She knew I don’t take personal life questions, so she found an indirect way to attack.”

Bucky pouts and shakes his head. “She doesn’t seem so smart to do it intentionally.”

“No, I meant to attack me because she is obviously above a young girl who slept around with a director to get a job.”

You watch him frown instantly. You understand he hates this, but it’s how they see it. “Don’t say that. She is the one who doesn’t do her job properly. It was an awards show, not Love Island.”

This makes you laugh again. “Love Island? Not so old after all.” You kiss his nose. He’s hot, and smart, and all yours. “I know it wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t like that. Our families and friends, too. And that is more than enough for me at this point.”

“I don’t want this for you!”

“I knew this was coming when our photos got all over the media. Even before that. But I don’t give a fuck. As long as I have you and I get a chance to audition for whatever project I want, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Bucky...” You sigh.

His eyes are so glossy you have to refrain from comforting him more.

“I mean it, I’m not! They think they can get away with this shit and I don’t want them to.”

You sigh again. Of course… It doesn’t matter what you’ll say now, it’s clear he did something about it. “What did you do?”

“I am taking care of it.” He gives you an assuring smile, and his vague answer makes you more curious now. He always takes care of you, but what does that mean in this case?

“Define what taking care of it means, James.”

Bucky shrugs. “How’s your sister?”

“Bucky!” You slap his chest lightly. He really tried to change the subject as if he hasn’t learned his lesson by now. “Tell me now!”

“Easy,” he snorts. “Quite aggressive to your old man.”

You smile instantly. “So you do like it! But don’t change the subject.”

“I only messaged a friend.”

“What friend?” You raise your eyebrow. He’s not clear enough for your like.

“A friend who knows her boss.”

You grab his face again, concerned. “Are you going to fire her? Bucky, please...”

The last thing you want is that. Sure, she was awful to you two, but you would feel guilty about it. You never thought Bucky would actually do something like that, but you also never saw him so angry and tense.

“Nope, better.”

“What?” You feel relieved, but also confused.

“Apologies on the official page and on her social media accounts.”

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, but then you peck him without warning. He cares about the way you are treated more than you do, and he won’t back down. You feel so loved at the moment you can barely hold back tears because of this little gesture.

“Bubba, you know that will incriminate us more, right?”

“I give zero fucks. She should fucking beg for your forgiveness on her knees.”

His ice-cold tone makes you melt. He has your back. Always. As he promised.

“The only person that I want to see begging on his knees is you, old man.” You kiss him again, but properly this time, making sure to bite his bottom lip in the process.

“Fuck!” He groans, stroking your cheeks. “We can make that happen.”

“Later.” You giggle, getting off his lap before things escalate too much. You want to “edge” him a little. “Now tell me how you found out about it. Did someone send the link to you?”

You see him blush little by little as he brings his right hand to his face. “I found it.”

“Did you look for it or something?”

“I always watch your interviews. Plus, I was bored waiting for you, so I thought...”

You giggle, taking a sip from your glass. “I was gone for 5 minutes! Is that a thing you always do when I leave?” You tease him.

“Let’s just watch the movie already.”

“No way, mister, you have to tell me everything!”

He sighs dramatically and brings you close enough so you can rest your head on his chest.

“What do you want to know? I told you I do.”

“When it started, how often you do it, and what’s your favorite. This is valuable information, James.”

He laughs silently, but you still feel it because of the vibrations of his chest. You don’t think there are words good enough to describe how much you love him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll tell you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #director!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #celebrity!bucky barnes #dilf!bucky barnes #dilf!bucky #my stories #my fanfics #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year

Text

be okay. please.

Feb. Request-7

In which Y/N is at base while Spencer is in the field. She loses communication and tension rises.

Warnings: guns, bombs, blood, normal CM stuff, sadness, angst, fluff, kissing, reader being worried and pregnant

Spencer x fem!reader

Y/N clenched her jaw as she sat beside Garcia in the bar cave. Her knee was bouncing up and down rapidly as she rubbed her stomach.

The reason she wasn’t with the rest of the team was because she was pregnant. Too far along to be working a case physically.

“Okay, wonder team.” Garcia sighed. “The bombs location is about two miles from where you are… now.”

“Thanks, baby girl.” Derek said over the phone. “How are you doing, Mrs. Reid?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Y’know, i just kinda wish you guys weren’t heading towards an active bomb but other than that… never better.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “Uh, wife can you make sure to keep baby in there until we get back?”

Y/N chuckled. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just hold my legs closed if I feel like Niagara Falls let loose from my vagina.”

“Dude!” Emily snorted.

Spencer chuckled. “The third trimester has made her pretty… graphic.”

Derek laughed. “Yeah, for real. The other night she told me that she wasn’t looking forward to feeling like she was pushing a watermelon out of her ass.”

“Sounds like my wife.” Spencer sighed.

Y/N sighed. “Y’know, getting to the ninth month is super exciting until you realize that the baby doesn’t come in the exact day you hit the ninth month.” She rolled her eyes. “Unless you’re freaking Monica from across the street.” She scowled. “That bitch pushed her devil baby twins out at fuckin’ midnight.”

Everyone laughed as Y/N grumbled.

Garcia shook her head. “I love all the… baby pushing out stuff— but you guys are coming up on the sight. Body cams on, please.”

On a separate screen, six frames showed up with their names in the corner. “All right, everyone’s clear to go. Be safe and kick ass.”

Y/N bit her lip as she saw Spencer’s body cam stop shaking and move from inside the car, out.

“Reid, you’re with me and Rossi, JJ and Emily with Morgan.” Hotch spoke. “Reid, Rossi and I will go try to diffuse the bomb, you guys go take down Mr. Hall.”

The reason the BAU was diffusing the bomb and not the bomb squad was because the unsub had somehow shut off all the power at the bomb station, making that they wouldn’t receive any notice of bomb threats. The doors were also ran by electricity so when the power went out, the doors shut down.

Everyone nodded and moved in different directions. Y/N saw them come to a door that the bomb should have been behind.

Hotch kicked it open and stepped aside for Reid and Rossi to go through first. “I’ve located the explosive.” Reid spoke.

Chills ran down Y/N’s spine as she saw it up close from his body cam.

She looked down at JJ and Emily’s body cam and realized that they went black. She pressed the call button on the computer. “Emily? JJ, can you hear me?” Derek’s looked like it was shaking all around. “Derek, what’s happening?”

His body cam went black.

“Derek?” Garcia called.

Y/N saw Spencer’s hands hesitantly touching the wires and cables attached to the bomb.

“Y/N, García, what are you seeing?” Rossi asked.

Her chest stared to heave. “Their body cams went black. I can’t see or hear them.” She shook her head.

“All of them?” Hotch asked.

“Yes! All of them.” Garcia snapped.

Y/N eyed Spencer’s body cam. There was a minute left on the timer. “No. No, Spencer you guys have to get out of there.” She spoke, desperation in her voice.

“Baby, I can’t talk to you right now. I need to focus, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N heart plummeted when she saw a figure in the background on the screen of Spencer’s cam.

“Spence, I-I think there’s someone in there with you.” She said quietly.

“What?”

Y/N shook, sitting on the edge of her seat. “Spencer, there’s someone in there with you. You need to g-go. You have to go.”

Rossi and Hotch pulled their guns and stalked forward towards the man covered in blood. “Hands up, Hall.”

Y/N grabbed Garcia’s hand as tears stung in her eyes. The clock continued to count down as Spencer moved his hands around. She could hear him whispering, reciting things he had learned earlier in the case.

Two gunshots were heard and Y/N flinched when Hotch and Rossi’s body came went black.

“No… no, no!” She yelled.

Spencer pulled his gun from his holster. “Mr. Hall?” He spoke, walking forward. “My name is Spencer Reid, and I want you to think very carefully about your next actions.” He said,

Y/N bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood.

“I don’t wanna follow your rules.” Hall spoke. He shrugged.

Spencer stepped forward again. “Okay. Okay, I understand. But, you’re the only one that can turn off the bomb?”

He nodded.

“If you help me diffuse it, you can make your own rules.” Spencer spoke. “You don’t have to follow anyone else’s, okay?”

Y/N shook, trying not to scream in Spencer’s ear piece. He only had thirty seconds left. “Okay. I-I can help you.”

“I need you to drop your weapon, though Mr. Hall.” Spencer spoke as he tried to walk forward.

Y/N clenched her jaw. Hurry, Spencer. Hurry.

She watched Mr. Hall drop the gun he was holding and walk forward. Spencer began to lift his gun back into his holster.

And the last thing Y/N saw was the man running at her husband before his body cam went black.

Y/N was silent for a moment. “Sp- Spencer?” She whispered, pressing the call button. “Spencer, are you there?”

She glanced at Penelope who looked lost, shocked, scared all in one. “Penelope, why- his body cam went off. Why did their cams go off?”

She shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks. “I-I…”

Y/N pulled her hand from hers. “Why the fuck did they go off, Garcia!?” She shouted. When the woman just started to weep, Y/N groaned and pulled out her phone, getting out of the chair she was in.

She called Spencer.

Riiing. Riiing. Riiing. Ri- Hi, this is Spencer Reid. I can’t come to the phone right now, leave a— babe, stop! Leave a message!

Y/N pressed her lips in a thin line to stop them from quivering. “No, no, no.” She shook her head. “Be okay. Please.” She whispered, pressing Rossi’s contact.

It rang, he didn’t answer.

“No, you have to be okay.”

She called JJ. No answer.

Morgan. No answer.

She called everyone on the team but no one picked up.

She paced, her breaths becoming short and labored. “No, no.” She shook her head.

“Y/N, sweetie, you need to calm down. Too much stress will put you into labor.” Garcia sniffled from behind her.

The woman either didn’t hear her or didn’t listen because she started hyperventilating. “Spencer and I are supposed to have this baby together— the team is supposed to be here for our kid— I- I- need them to be okay. I need him to be okay.”

García sobbed listening to her. “Y/N—“

“We’re supposed to move out of our apartment and get a big— b-big house so we can have more kids— I can’t do life without him— much less have a baby—“

García got up from her chair and slowly walked towards the panicking woman. “Y/N, i need you to stop or you will have this baby on the floor of my bat cave!” She said, placing her hands on her arms.

Y/N looked up at her with tears running. Garcia tilted her head to the side, pulling her in for a tight hug.

As she was rocking Y/N back and forth, she noticed something on the frames of the body cams.

Offline…

“Y/N/N…” Garcia whispered. “Look.”

The woman pulled away from her and spun around. “What— am I looking at?” She asked, sniffling.

“If the cams are damaged they say ‘error’, those say offline.” She nodded.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “Okay? W-why is that important.”

García bit her lip. “Because that means that they might be okay.” She smiled, wiping a tear off of Y/N’s cheek. She walked towards the computer. “If the bomb ever went off, these would say error. So, the team might have turned they off for some reason. They might be okay.”

Y/N bit her lip. “If they’re okay, then why aren’t they answering my phone calls?” She asked.

“I— i don’t know, Y/N.”

The woman sighed with frustration, walking to the door.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where the hell are you going, pregnant lady!?” Garcia asked loudly.

Y/N looked back at her. “I’m going to the site to get my husband and the rest of our team.”

García groaned. “Okay, well your husband would kill me if I let you drive so hang on!”

.•.•.•.•.•.••.•.

Y/N had tears in her eyes as García turned on the road and the next thing in sight was a burning building.

“No. No, there’s no way they made it out.” She mumbled.

As soon as the car stopped Y/N got out of the car, running for the line of police cars and fire trucks and ambulances.

“Oh my god.” She shook her head.

“Ma’am? You can’t be here now.” A policeman said, reaching for her arm.

Y/N didn’t glance at him as she pulled her arm from us grasp and showed him her badge. “Fuck off.”

“Y/N! Y/N, wait!” She heard García calling for her.

She didn’t turn back. She needed to know if he was alive or dead.

The sirens hurt her ears as she passed dozens of fire trucks. “Rossi!” She screamed when she saw him covered in ash, coughing. “Oh my God, Rossi!”

“Oh, Y/N. What are you doing here?”

“You’re alive! Who else is alive!?”

“Y/N, Y/N, slow down sweetheart.” Rossi nodded, glancing around. He pulled her into a hug.

“Is he alive?” She whispered, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Sir, slow down! I need to take you to a paramedic!”

Y/N opened her eyes and practically pushed Rossi away from her. “Spencer!?” She screamed, rushing towards him.

His head snapped to her. “Y/N? What— what are you—“ he started to cough. When she got to him, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, tears escaping her eyes.

“I— thought you died!” She cried into his chest. “Why— where the fuck is your phone!?” She pushed off of him.

“Y/N, baby, I’m so sorry! I had to turn off the cams to gain trust. That was the only way he would agree to help diffuse the bomb.” He spoke quickly.

Y/N looked around. “Yeah, well it didn’t fucking work, now did it?!” The entire place was on fire.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

She reached up and wiped the blood from his forehead.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer looked down at his wife worriedly. She hadn’t said anything since they’d been home. They laid in bed, him rubbing her belly softly as she laid her head on his chest.

Suddenly, he heard sniffles coming from her. He tilted his head as he looked at her. “Y/N? Baby, what’s wrong?”

He moved so she could sit up. She criss crossed her legs and looked at her belly. “You are not allowed to die.” She told him.

He would almost think that was a joke if he hadn’t heard the shake in her voice. If he hadn’t seen the sad look on her face.

“I need you here.” She nodded, tears falling from her eyes and landing on her hands that laid on her stomach. “For me. I-I can’t do this without you.”

“You won’t have our child alone, baby—“

“I can’t do living without you, Spencer.” She looked up at him. “Baby or not, if you didn’t come home to me today, I—“ She paused. “I need you and our child needs you.” She told him, letting his thumbs wipe away her tears. “And we’re gonna have more kids. They need you. Our kid’s kids, they need you.”

Spencer leaned forward. “They will have me.” He nodded. He pulled her into his chest. “I will be here for you…” He rocked her back and forth. “For our kids… for our kid’s kids, love, I will always be here.”

Y/N nodded into his chest before she pulled away. She pushed his body back so he was laying down.

“What are you doing?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

She laid her hand on his chest before replacing it with her ear. “I just need to hear your heart for a while.”

“I need to know you’re okay.”

————————

THIS ONE IS SO SWEET AND SAD AND ALL THAT OMG

I love this one (requester chose not to be tagged) feel free to request more fics!!!

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #crimimal minds #spencer x you

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badkitty3000 · 4 months

Text

Lewd Public Acts: Five x OC One Shot

Getting busy in a public space with people around? The idea of someone witnessing everything becomes a turn on for Five's wife, and he is definitely up for the challenge. After all, he can never deny her anything. And, let's face it; there might be something in it for him, too.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Dirty talk, Fingering, Blow jobs

Words: 7,412

Here is a smutty one shot I wrote featuring my original character, an aged-up Five's love of his life, Vivian, from my Halo series. That AU spawned its own series of one shots that you can read here.

I love writing these two horny love-birds, so if you have any requests for a story featuring them, or Five and a reader-insert, let me know!

The traffic was incessantly slow, with the cars creeping forward mere inches at a time every few minutes. There was nowhere to go; not even a shoulder to drive on if you wanted to be that kind of jerk. Which, after over an hour of sitting in roughly the same spot, breathing in exhaust fumes and listening to his wife’s horrific playlist of songs, Five would have gladly taken twenty traffic violation tickets just to get out of there. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, imagining it was the neck of whoever had caused this nightmare to begin with.

Viv risked a side glance, noticing the red flag that was the twitchy eye and bared teeth of her husband. Her eyes moved back in front of her, to the glove compartment where Five kept his Glock, and she subtly pressed her knee up against it. Just in case.

About thirty minutes into this fiasco, Five had put the car in park and blinked out and down the standing row of cars to try and get a look at what the hold up was, much to the shock of the other drivers. After he had stood on the side of the road, hands on his hips, assessing the situation in the most Five way possible, and then blinking back into the car, Viv had scrunched down in her seat and gave the confused, older lady in the car next to her an embarrassed smile.

Risking making things worse, and possibly her life, Viv quietly cleared her throat.

“Five. There’s nothing we can do. It sucks, but there’s no point in getting all assassin-level angry about it.”

When Five’s head whipped around in her direction, she flinched just slightly; his face looking dangerously crazy.

“Yes, I know there’s nothing we can do, Vivie.” He drew out his words slowly and measured, as if talking to a small child. “But I am tired and hungry and very, VERY over this music.” He stabbed his finger at the screen that had just lit up with the beginnings of “Sweet Caroline”, stopping poor Neil before he could get to the chorus.

The car was quiet again and Viv tried to choke down the laugh she felt forming inside of her. It never failed to amuse her when her murderous husband with a long history of blood and violence started acting like a toddler that was overdue for a nap and a snack. The more she sat there, watching him seethe out of the corner of her eye, the more she thought about it. And then she couldn’t keep it suppressed anymore. The laugh started as a muffled snort, and then her shoulders started to shake. When Five looked over at her, completely unamused, it all burst forward in a loud, obnoxious cackle that had her doubled over.

“Always glad to be your entertainment,” he snarled, looking away again.

“Oh, come on, Five…you don’t have to be so dramatic,” Viv argued, even as she still tried to swallow her laughter.

“How am I being dramatic?” Five asked loudly, throwing his hands in the air with all the drama of a telenovela actor. “You’re the one that wanted to go to this restaurant across town, even though I told you it would be a bitch to get to. And I was right, wasn’t I? You know, sometimes you can admit when I’m right. It wouldn’t kill you.”

Rather than answer, Viv reached across with one hand, squeezing his cheeks and squishing in his face. She beamed over at him as he gave her the death glare. Part of the fun of messing with him was knowing she was the only one that could ever get away with it. Anyone else would have been swiftly joining the unidentifiable roadkill that was lying next to their car.

“You’re so super cute when you’re all angry.”

Five swatted her hand away. “Thin ice, Vivie. You’re on real thin ice.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What exactly are you going to do about it?”

“Off the top of my head, I’m thinking of spatial jumping myself out of here and leaving you here.”

Viv scoffed. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, how far would you even get?”

“Far enough to get away from this mess and to think happily back on the image of you still sitting here, crying tears of regret over your treatment of me.”

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing again. Even though Five’s body language and words gave the impression of some serious underlying wrath, the tiniest formation of a dimple on his cheek gave him away. He may have actually been pissed at the situation, but he’d never leave her like that.

“Fine. You were right…I was wrong. This was a bad idea. There, you good now?” she condescendingly patted his thigh.

As she turned back towards the passenger window, in the process of taking her hand back, she felt him grab hold of it, keeping her pressed into his leg. She turned back to face him with a questioning look. All she received in return was a very evil smile of which she knew the exact meaning behind. Uh-oh.

“Oh, no…no way, buddy. I am not giving you a hand job in the middle of a traffic jam. Absolutely not.”

Even Viv knew her argument lacked much conviction; the sternness in her voice was definitely not very convincing. When Five didn’t respond, she kept going.

“Besides, it’s not like we’re very hidden here, we’re surrounded by all these other cars with people in them and it’s broad daylight out. Not to mention my very nosy window neighbor over here, I’m pretty sure her name is Gladys, keeps looking over at us. I think she likes you.”

None of that did anything to dissuade Five; it was as if she hadn’t said anything at all. He just grasped her hand tighter, that cock-sure smile of his never wavering.

“First of all, you need to make up for this disaster you put us in, which you have so kindly admitted was your doing. Second, I have a very different kind of job in mind for you, my love. And third, I know you; and I can guarantee you’re going to have your head in my lap in a matter of minutes.”

Five took Viv’s hand and pressed it roughly between his legs, making sure she knew he wasn’t fucking around. She could feel him growing and getting harder as he rubbed her palm over the top of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a soft exhale.

“Jesus, Five. How can you be so pissed off one second and so horny the next? That’s not normal.”

He opened his eyes and grinned over at her. “Just one of my many talents. Now, are you going to get over here? Or are you going to keep pretending you’re not going to suck my dick when I tell you to?”

She laughed softly, but didn’t make a move, even though her breath had become noticeably faster and she stopped trying to pull her hand away.

Five unbuckled his seat belt and slid the seat back further to make more room. Then he settled back into the seat, spreading his legs apart and leaning his head back with his eyes closed.

“Darling, I really don’t want to have to tell you again,” he warned, not even bothering to look over at her or open his eyes.

As he moved her hand over the crotch of his pants again, Viv took a deep, shaky breath and bit her bottom lip. He knew exactly how to get to her. How to turn her from a strong, confident woman into a quivering mess of sexed-up gelatin. It’s like he knew the special, magic formula to instantly soak her panties and leave her wanting him. She may have been the boss of him in every other aspect of their lives, but when it came to anything sexual…Five was in charge.

After a brief look to her nosy neighbor, who happened to be looking straight ahead for once, she undid her own seat belt and leaned in closer to Five. She lightly ran her lips over his neck while she started undoing his pants.

“You’re lucky I’m willing to let you talk to me like that,” she murmured with a smile before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve been letting me talk to you like that since the day we met,” he replied; which was entirely true. Then he let out a soft moan as she freed his dick from his pants and started slowly stroking him.

“So, what’s going to be in this for me?” Viv asked, still teasing him with feather light kisses on his neck.

“Dinner. Maybe,” Five answered dryly, trying to conceal his smile as he inhaled a sharp breath when her hand moved over him again.

The movement stopped completely then, and Five opened his eyes to look at her unamused face. Trying to push himself up into her fist, but to no avail, Five conceded with a short laugh.

“How does this sound? If we ever get out of this nightmare and home again, I’m going to get you on all fours and fuck you with my hand, then my mouth, and then my dick until you’re coming onto each one of them.”

Viv could feel the unmistakable rush of moisture between her legs when he said things like that. It was an automatic response from her body; because it knew that’s exactly what was going to happen. She started to rub his cock again, harder and faster this time, causing him to flop his head back with a loud groan and close his eyes again.

“Deal. Just make sure you’re watching the road and pay attention if we start moving.”

“Uh-huh…got it,” he mumbled, his hand already pushing her head down.

Vivian was on him a second later, taking him all in at once, and letting him guide her head with his hand in her hair. If there was one thing she knew, it was that the man loved a good blow job. She’d given countless to him over the years, and in that time had gotten to know exactly the way he liked it and the quickest way to make him finish, too. She considered herself a Professional Number Five Cock Sucker at this point. She could have taught a class.

She made little moaning noises as she moved her head up and down in a certain rhythm, making sure the head of his dick hit the back of her throat each time. She gagged once in a while, but he liked that, too; knowing he was big enough to choke her if he really pushed her down hard enough. The angle was awkward, but not anything she couldn’t handle and she used her hand along with her mouth to speed things up. But when her neck and back were starting to ache and the gear shift was digging into her armpit, he was still going strong. She had another trick up her sleeve that would wrap things up, though.

Taking her mouth off, but still working him with her hand, she looked up and made sure he was watching her face as she licked her lips.

“Let me feel your cum down my throat, Daddy,” she purred, as seductively as she could.

Then she was back to sucking him off and she could hear the low groaning noise that meant he was going to do just what she had asked of him. His hand tightened in her hair and he held her down while he pushed his hips up, his back arching and body stiff and twitching while he lost himself to her expert mouth-fucking skills. He was almost completely spent, the last few spurts of cum sliding down her throat, when there was the undeniable crunching sound and hard jolt of their car hitting the one in front of them.

Viv did choke a little with the impact, and lucky for Five he didn’t get his dick bitten off. The car had been rolling so slowly that it had only gently bumped the other car. But it was still enough to do some damage. Not to mention the impact had somehow kicked the music back on and suddenly the car was being blasted with the all-too familiar lyrics of “Sweet Caroline”.

…touching me…touching youuuuuu….

“Fuck!” Five cried as Viv lifted her head up quickly and looked out the windshield to see what had happened.

She groaned. “Five, god damn it! I told you to watch what you were doing!”

“Yeah, I know!” he snapped back at her over the loudly obnoxious song. While trying to stuff himself back into his pants and zip up, he visibly winced. “I guess my foot slipped off the brake! I was a little preoccupied!”

Sweet Caroline…bum bum bum…

“You were preoccupied?! I was the one choking on your damn dick!”

“Charming, Viv, really.”

Good times never seemed so good….

“Well, shit. Great, the guy is getting out of his car. Oh my god, he’s walking over here! Now what?”

“Jesus, I don’t know! Act fucking normal I guess, if you can manage that,” Five barked at her. “And turn this FUCKING music off!”

Five practically punched the touchscreen with his fist and Neil shut up again. The car seemed extra quiet, except for their angry breathing.

As the other driver got closer, Viv suddenly realized the absurdity of the whole situation. She knew what they looked like; her hair a tangled mess from Five’s hand, lips swollen and her chest flushed. Five was breathing hard and trying to tuck in his shirt and buckle his belt. Then add in the fact that they had started yelling at each other, and Viv immediately burst out laughing. When Five looked at her, first in complete shock, he must have come to the same conclusion she had and he shook his head with a smile.

“You are a very bad girl, Vivian Hargreeves.”

“And you are a very bad influence,” she replied with another giggle.

As Five composed himself and got out of the car to assess the minor damage with the annoyed looking man; Viv glanced over to Gladys who was wearing a very sour expression on her face. Clearly, she had seen the whole thing go down, including the sinful activity that had taken place. Instead of hiding in embarrassment, though, Viv just waved out the window to her with a happy smile and gave her a thumb’s up. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her lips, all while staring the haughty looking woman in the face. She couldn’t help but crack up again when she saw the woman gasp and cover her mouth with her hand, completely appalled.

Later that evening, after they had finally gotten home and eaten dinner and Five had eaten something else just like he had promised, they were lying in bed in the dark when Viv started laughing again.

“I can’t stop thinking about that lady’s face. She was so horrified. I’m sure she was going to go pray for us as soon as she could get back to her church.”

Five chuckled. “Well, you did put on a good show.”

“Yeah, but was it worth that ticket and the increase in our auto insurance?”

Five pulled her in close to him and kissed her cheek. “Absolutely one-hundred percent worth it.”

Viv sighed and laid her head on his chest. “You know what’s weird though? I kind of liked it.”

“Of course you did. What’s not to like?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not that. Doing it in public like that. Where people could see us? It was kind of a rush.”

“Huh. Well, that’s certainly good to know. Let me file that away along with all the other dirty things my wife likes.”

“That file must be getting pretty big by now. Your wife sounds like freak,” she laughed.

“You have no idea.”

A few days later, Viv was standing in front of her closet after her morning shower, wrapped in a towel and staring at the empty space that used to be occupied by more clothes.

“Five! Where the hell are all my work pants?” she yelled out.

A minute later, Five strolled in with his coffee, looking suspiciously innocent. “What do you mean?”

She eyed him up with a hand on her hip. “My pants are missing. Know anything about this?”

He shook his head with a smile and took a sip from his mug. “Not a clue. Weird. Guess you’re going to just have to wear a skirt to work.”

Viv narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Five shrugged and walked to her closet, looking at the line of skirts. Picking out a tight, black skirt that would be way too short to wear to work, he placed it on the bed. “Wear that one.”

“Five…I can’t wear-“

“I thought I’d come by and take you out to lunch today,” he interrupted with a gleam in his eye.

Now she understood. This skirt was for him, not her. And she was pretty sure she knew what lunch meant.

With a shake of her head she smiled. “You know, this skirt would actually be perfect to wear today. Even though there’s a good chance I might accidentally give everyone at work a look at my Area 51.”

“Your what?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying out new names for my vag. Area 51. Like it?”

“I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he replied sarcastically.

“Yes, you do,” she grinned.

Five just smirked knowingly and left the room to let her finish getting ready. But when she opened her underwear drawer, she found that it was empty as well.

“God damn it, he’s good,” she muttered to herself with a smile.

Viv spent the rest of the morning trying to avoid the scandalized looks of her coworkers while also trying to pull her skirt down so it wouldn’t ride all the way up and show the entire lab her bare bikini biscuit, which she had decided was her new favorite term. In between wrestling with her completely inappropriate outfit, she kept an eye on the clock. She was supposed to meet Five downstairs in the lobby at noon. He didn’t say where he was taking her, but she figured that was because she was the lunch.

Finally, it was noon and Viv rushed downstairs, fully anticipating a nice long lunch hour consisting of an orgasm or two. When she saw Five she hugged him and gave him a kiss.

“So, where are you taking me?”

He let his hands roam over her hips and down to her ass that was just barely covered by the skirt. “I don’t care. Wherever you want. What sounds good?”

Viv frowned. “Wait. Are you actually taking me out to lunch?”

He smiled innocently. “That’s what I said I was going to do. Why? What were you thinking?”

With a very suspicious look at her husband, Viv cocked her head to the side. “What was up with the skirt then? And the no panties?”

Again, Five just shrugged like he had no idea what she was getting at. “Nothing. I just like that skirt, it looks nice on you. And you probably left all your underwear in the dryer like you always do.”

Viv let out a frustrated sigh. “You are so weird. Fine, let’s go across the street to that café. If I can make it there without flashing the entire city my pink velvet sausage wallet.”

Five choked on a shocked laugh. “Your what?”

“What? You don’t like that one? I thought it was a winner.”

“And I’m the weird one,” he said with a shake of his head.

After their actual lunch of food, where Viv fully expected Five to blink her out of there and fuck her somewhere private, but never did; they walked back across to Viv’s building where she went to give him a kiss good bye.

“Hang on. I’ll go up with you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Can’t I want to spend a few more minutes with my beautiful wife? Is that a crime?”

“You’re up to something, Hargreeves; I know you are.”

But Five gave no further explanation, so they walked to the elevator together. Viv’s lab was on the 20th floor, and the elevators were all packed with workers returning from lunch. When the doors opened, a throng of people pushed in, filling it almost to capacity. Five had led her in with a hand on the small of her back and they ended up in the back corner, which Viv didn’t really like since they were packed in so tight. She leaned in closer to Five so she didn’t have to be so close to the other people.

As soon as the doors closed and everyone pushed the buttons to their respective floors, Viv felt Five’s hand on her ass. She turned and gave him a little smile, since that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to do. But what he did next certainly was. She stood there while he continued south with his hand, stopping just below the short hemline of her skirt. Then, with a move so smooth she wasn’t sure how he did it, his hand was under the back of her skirt with his fingers sneaking forward between her legs.

Viv let out a loud gasp, then quickly shut her mouth as several people turned to look at her. Five continued sliding his fingers forward until they were perfectly positioned, the slick from her rapidly dampening pussy coating them as he started to gently finger her. Viv tried to step away, but he held her to him with a firm grip on her arm, and he moved her body so that her back was closer to the elevator wall. It obviously wouldn’t take much for anyone near them to realize what was going on. But as with most elevators full of people, it was awkwardly quiet and everyone just stared straight ahead or at the moving floor numbers.

Viv tried to clench her legs together, then she tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, but neither one of those things worked and Five didn’t let up. As the elevator climbed the floors, stopping periodically to let more people on and off, she started to get more and more turned on. He really was an expert finger fucker, and he knew all the right things to do to drive her crazy.

There were still plenty of people around, although it had thinned out a little. Five pretended like nothing was going on, just staring straight ahead like everyone else. Viv had to close her eyes and bite her lip to hold in the whimpers that were dangerously close to creeping out of her mouth. When Five sank his middle finger inside of her, fucking her with it while also fingering her clit, she couldn’t suppress a moan. When a man started to turn around to look, she coughed loudly to try and cover it up and he turned back towards the doors.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Don’t let anyone hear you.” Five whispered so softly in her ear that it was almost inaudible. But she heard it, and she also felt his lips graze over her ear lobe when he said it.

It wasn’t fair. Five had an entire car to fully unleash himself in before. He didn’t have to be quiet or hold back his orgasm. This was a totally different level of torture; even if Viv was both loving and hating every minute of it.

Finally, after what seemed like the slowest crawling elevator ride in history, the last person got out on the 19th floor. When the doors closed behind them, the long, shaky moan from Vivian echoed through the empty space.

“You fucking bastard,” she panted out before finally breaking free from his grasp on her arm, as well as his hand under her skirt.

Five just smirked proudly and then quickly slammed his fist against the stop button, halting the elevator between floors with a jolt and setting off the alarm. He was back on her in a second, pushing her against the back wall and kissing her hard, one hand on the side of her neck while the other slid back under her skirt. This time he didn’t care about being discreet, and he shoved the front of the skirt up so she was fully exposed for him and he picked up where he left off.

Viv cried into his mouth as he lifted one of her legs up to his waist, holding her under her thigh while he circled her clit over and over again with his hand. His body was pressing into hers and he was breathing hard and fast; kissing her neck while she whined for him.

“Did you like getting fucked under your skirt like that? With everyone around? Knowing you could get caught at any second?” he murmured.

“Fuck, I hate you so much. But yes…oh god…yes I liked it.”

“You better finish up for me, angel. We can’t keep this stopped forever. If these doors open, everyone will see what a horny little slut you are.”

With each heaving breath Viv let out a whimper until he had her completely falling apart; her hands raking through his hair and her head thrown back.

“That’s my girl, keep going,” he urged as he pushed harder and faster.

That was all she could take and then she was yelling much too loudly for no one else to hear, even if they were trapped in there alone with alarm bells blasting. Her cries kept going, too, her body pulsing against Five’s hand as she clutched onto his arms. When she could finally stop, Five pulled away and lowered her skirt for her. The giant grin on his face was incredibly annoying, but Viv could only let out a wheezy laugh as she tried to compose herself again.

“Fuck…”

“Sorry, darling, we don’t have time for that. This will have to suffice until you get home later,” he quipped as he wiped his hand off on his pant leg and then pushed the button to stop the alarm and get the elevator moving again.

They were only one floor away from her stop, and when the doors opened, Viv found herself face to face with several of her co-workers looking very concerned.

“Oh my gosh, Vivian! Are you ok? We heard the alarm and then we thought we heard screaming.”

Five smirked and looked at his wife, cooly leaning with his back against the doors to keep them open for her, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

Viv smoothed out her skirt and ran a hand down the back of her hair, before faking a laugh and waving a dismissive hand at the group of worried faces.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. It was silly, actually. Five accidentally bumped into the alarm button and it scared me so I screamed. I’m so over dramatic sometimes,” she explained with a self-deprecating eye roll.

That seemed to satisfy everyone well enough, despite some suspicious looks, and they slowly scattered back to their work stations. When they were alone again, Viv turned to Five in a huff.

“I’ve said it before, but you really are an asshole.”

Five grabbed her hand and pulled her into him, holding her around her waist. “Sounded to me like you were having a pretty good time. And you’re always saying how I don’t listen to you. Well, I listened this time. You wanted public sex; I delivered.”

Viv couldn’t really argue with that, so she just shook her head and put her arms around his shoulders. “As much as I enjoyed that little ride you gave my panty hamster back there, consider this war.”

“Panty hamster? What is wrong with you?”

Viv laughed and kissed him before he stepped back on the elevator, still smiling at his crazy but adorable wife while the doors closed between them.

It was a week later when the war continued. They had a deal worked out every month where Viv would let Five drag her off to their small, public library in town and sit there while he pored over old, dusty textbooks of the most boring variety in exchange for him letting her pick out any movie to go see and he had to go along with no complaining. This weekend it was library day.

She hadn’t even been doing anything all that sexual. Just resting her hand on his leg while he scanned through some old physics textbooks and she leafed through a mystery novel. It’s not like she’d never rested her hand there before. Or absent-mindedly stroked her thumb over his thigh. But for whatever reason, this time, it was getting to Five. Maybe it was the fact that he was surrounded by books, and the quiet of the library, which he’d always loved. Or maybe it was weird, suppressed memories of him and Dolores in a similar building, only with fewer walls and less readable options.

Five tried to block it out of his mind, instead concentrating on the long, drawn-out equations and laws of thermo-dynamics. But he found himself reading the same sentences over and over again, his mind wandering to her hand and the warmth of her skin penetrating the fabric of his pants. Then his mind wandered even more. To what he knew her hand felt like on other areas of his body. Despite the internal battle in his head, visions of her stroking him, hard and fast, while kissing him and biting at his neck were working their way to the forefront. And unfortunately, she had noticed.

“Something wrong there, honey? You look a little flushed,” Viv asked with a smile as she moved her hand further up his thigh.

Five cleared his throat. He really didn’t want her to win this one. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

After he continued pretending to be engrossed in his book, Viv took it one step further and pushed her palm against the swelling between his legs, rubbing it over the top of his pants. She heard the unmistakable sound of a quiet groan and she jumped a little when he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Nice try, angel. You may have me worked up just like you always know how to do, but two can play at this game.”

He held her hand on his crotch while using the other to pull her chair closer to him. A loud screeching noise filled the air as it scraped over the floor and several people looked up to stare. Knowing that Five was trying to embarrass her on purpose, she just smiled over at him and pushed her hand in harder.

It was difficult to keep up the façade, though, when Five was returning the favor by shoving his free hand up the sundress she was wearing and rubbing her over her panties. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. When she retaliated with a squeeze and her own rough tug it made him growl deep in his throat.

After a couple minutes of under the table rub and tug, they were both quickly losing their resolve. It didn’t really matter who was going to win anymore.

“What do you say we take this one step further?” Five asked quietly in between ragged breaths.

Viv took a glance around her. There weren’t many people there, but there were a few. There was absolutely no way they going to be able to just start fucking without anyone seeing. And last time she checked, sex in a public setting was still a crime.

“As much as I want to…and believe me I really want to…I don’t think this is the best place for that.”

Five ran a finger inside her underwear and she let out a tiny squeak before shoving her hand down his pants and grabbing hold of his dick. Five jolted in his seat, his knees hitting the underside of the table.

“Fuck, Vivie,” he whispered. “This is happening. I am going to fuck you in this library right here, right now.”

She looked around again and then noticed the quiet reading room in the back. It was used mostly by students for studying but it had several small cubicles with desks for privacy. Perfect.

Viv removed her hand from his pants and pushed his away from her. With a smile she stood up and offered out her hand to him.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

Tugging at the front of his pants, Five looked up at her. “So, I have to walk across the library with a raging hard-on? Thanks a lot.”

“Well, it’s either that or you sit here and wait until it’s gone and your balls are blue as fuck.”

“Fair point. Just try to stay in front of me so I don’t look like some disgusting pervert.”

“You are a disgusting pervert.”

His eyes narrowed at her remark, but he stood up and took her hand while Viv led him to the back room, all while trying to hide his awkward boner from the suspicious eyes of the librarian as they walked past. Once inside the study room they could see there was only one other cubicle occupied. It was by a college-aged student that seemed oblivious to his surroundings and had earbuds shoved in his ears as he tapped the rhythm of the music out on the desk with his pencil.

Viv saw an empty one in the back corner and they hurried over. She pulled her panties off and shoved them into one of Five’s pockets before straddling his thighs. He uncuffed his dress shirt at the wrists and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like he was going to start in on some major work, before he started undoing his pants. Viv draped her arms over his shoulders, running her fingers softly through his hair and pushing it back over his ear.

“Do you know how impossibly sexy you are?” she asked in between her own quick breaths, trying to keep her voice down. Leaning in close, her lips brushed over his neck. “Sometimes I look at you and I can’t even believe you’re mine.”

“This is supposed to be a quick fuck, you know that right?” he asked as he revealed his straining cock to her.

“So?”

“So, when you say amazingly romantic things like that to me, it makes me want to take my time with you.”

Viv moved further up his lap, adjusting herself carefully, and sank down onto his dick. The quiet moan he let out sounded much louder in the quiet of the reading room. Viv breathed out a soft laugh at his inability to hold back. The skirt of her dress covered them so that at least they weren’t totally exposed, although it was going to be pretty obvious what was going on if someone walked by. She didn’t care about that, though, because all she wanted to do was let Five take over and make her feel good in the way only he knew how.

With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her chest held tightly to his, her lips found their way to his neck again. With her face pressed into his warm skin, she closed her eyes and breathed in, convinced that he must emit some type of pheromone that was made specifically for her. She imagined this invisible chemical compound drifting out of his pores, being driven by his bounding jugular pulse, and going directly to the unevolved part of her brain that was activated only by pure sexual impulse. Because there was no way anyone else in the world would be able to turn her on as completely as Five did, just on scent alone.

“Can’t I tell you nice things and still want you to fuck me senseless?” she purred.

The answer came in the form of Five roughly pushing her hips down and forward, using his strength to pump her body back and forth on top of him, despite what he had said about wanting to take his time.

Viv whimpered softly next to his ear and she could hear the sexy grunting noises he was making under his breath as he thrust her aggressively over his cock. Her body was being driven exclusively by his strength, with his fingers digging into her hips and ass; the muscles in his forearms straining as he worked hard and fast. The chair started to creak with the movement and the legs thumped and scraped on the floor.

“Someone’s going to hear us,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

“I don’t care,” Five answered, looking her in the eyes while his hair fell over his own.

Viv bit her lip to suppress a moan and she smiled at him. “What would you do if we got caught?”

“They can watch all they want. But nothing is going to stop me from Fucking. You.”

His last two words were accentuated with more forceful thrusts, slamming her down so hard that the chair was loudly shoved backwards.

“Do more of that, please Five,” she begged, knowing he couldn’t resist doing anything that drove her crazy like that.

Five gritted his teeth and continued to pound her body into his, the hot sleeve of her cunt sliding tightly over his dick faster and faster until he was sure neither one of them were going to hold on much longer. The chair underneath him was complaining loudly and Five tried to quiet it by bracing them with his foot against the floor, the sole of his expensive Oxford leaving black scuff marks on the faded linoleum as his heel skittered across.

Viv’s hands were in his hair and the back of his neck as she desperately tried to muffle her cries into his shoulder. She could feel her clit banging into his pubic bone over and over again until she was dangerously close to coming. She should have been in a hurry, trying to speed things up and will herself to finish so that they wouldn’t get caught. But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of it. She wanted someone to hear. She wanted someone to see.

“You feel so good like this. I want everyone to see, too. Let them see how good you fuck me; that I’m the only one that gets to touch you. I’m the only one that gets to ride your dick. Let them watch while you make me come, just for you, Five.”

“Jesus, Vivie…” he moaned into her hair. “If you say one more thing like that, I’m going to-”

“Come on, baby; let this whole library know how Number Five Hargreeves fucks his wife,” she groaned next to his ear with a smile.

“Oh, fuuuck, yes!” he growled much too loudly, throwing his head back and digging his fingers into her waist while they both climaxed together.

Viv startled and put her hand over his mouth, but it was too late. There was no way in hell no one had heard that.

“Five!” she scolded half-heartedly in between heaving breaths. She was already trying to climb off of him on stiff and cramped legs. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, Vivie,” he panted, helping her to stand up. “You did ask for it, though.”

Once she fixed her dress again and looked back over, she saw he was smiling, not even giving a shit that he had alerted half the library. Viv risked a quick peek over the cubicle wall and by some miracle there didn’t appear to be anyone around. She may have talked a big game during the heat of the moment, but she hadn’t really wanted to endure the humiliation of getting caught.

She leaned her butt against the desk, trying to catch her own breath as she shook her head at him, watching as he nonchalantly zipped up his pants again. He passed a hand through his hair and looked up at her, somehow managing to look even more handsome than usual.

“How do you manage to do that to me?”

“What do I do?”

“Make me fall in love with you over and over again.”

Five laughed softly, looking slightly embarrassed. “Only you would turn a quick, public fuck session into a romantic date.”

After they smoothed their clothes and hair out as much as possible, and their underpants were back where they were supposed to be, they emerged from their little cubicle. They only got about ten steps out, though, when they were stopped in their tracks by a very stern and irritated librarian who blocked their path with her hands on her hips.

“I would like you both to know that we do not take these shenanigans lightly, and I have alerted the police who will be here shortly. As I’m sure you are quite aware, there are laws against indecent exposure and lewd public acts.”

Viv didn’t know what to say or do, except for turning beet red and looking at her feet. But Five just flashed the lady his best innocent smile.

“Actually, there was no indecent exposure. We made sure to keep it classy.”

The librarian huffed loudly and pointed a finger in Five’s face. “Now, listen here, you…you…hooligan! I am used to having to remind the teenagers to behave in here, but you are two grown adults. It’s disgraceful! You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

As Viv stood there, trying to decide if she should laugh or not while continuing to stare at the floor, the kid that had been studying at one of the other cubicles got up to leave, but stopped in front of Five on his way out, a big grin on his face. He offered out his hand for a fist bump.

“Dude, way to go, that was awesome. Seriously, best study session ever.” His eyes roamed over Vivian. “Whoa, she’s hot, too.”

Ignoring the other guy’s attempt at male bonding, Five put his arm protectively around Viv’s waist and pulled her against his hip. With another heart-melting smirk that had her trying not to laugh again, he raised his eyebrows at her. Viv could feel the tell-tale staticky sensation vibrate against her body as Five was already flexing his hands.

“Ready to leave, darling?”

Viv nodded with a smile. “Yep.”

“Tell the cops we said hi,” Five snarked just before opening one of his convenient portals and jumping them both out of there.

They landed slightly off from his intended mark in the parking lot, Viv’s back slamming into their car door. Post-orgasm blinks were always a bit trickier for him.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Sorry, are you ok?”

Vivie nodded, rubbing her back but still smiling. “Nice one, by the way. Poor lady, though. At least she’ll have something to talk about at her next knitting circle.”

Five laughed. “I don’t think they talk about lewd public acts in knitting circles. At least not hers, I’m guessing. But I’m pretty happy that I got called a hooligan. That’s a new one.”

As they both got into the car and Five started it up, he turned to his wife, with her messy hair and flushed cheeks, and smiled.

“So, where should we plan our next little adventure?”

“Next adventure? Uh-oh, I got you addicted to being a sex criminal now, didn’t I?”

He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. “I think it’s more like I’m just addicted to you, angel.”

“See? There you go again, being annoyingly sexy and making me fall in love with you again.”

A cop car pulled in, and Five drove quickly out of there, one hand on the wheel and the other on her leg. He gave her bare thigh a squeeze as he turned out into traffic. “As long as you keep feeling that way, Vivie, consider me one very happy and lucky man.”

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