#And then there’s a force saying that he’s actually just A Little Guy Actually
Note
Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.
Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.
ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this
type of post: short fics
characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil
additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts
If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
First Year's Ending
"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."
The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.
Everyone else is staring daggers at them.
Vil is the first to speak. "How?"
"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.
"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."
Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"
The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:
"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.
"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."
Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"
"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."
The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.
"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"
Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"
Riddle's Ending
"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.
It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.
Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.
And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.
"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"
"Nervous," you admit.
Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"
You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.
"Is he?"
"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."
You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"
"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"
Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.
For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.
Ruggie's Ending
"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."
Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.
"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"
The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.
"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"
"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."
Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"
Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.
"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"
"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"
Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"
"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"
"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."
"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"
---
Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.
Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.
Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.
"So... what's wrong?"
"Hm?"
"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."
"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."
The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.
"Well, I hope not,"
He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"
"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."
A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"
Octotrio's Ending
"Azul Ashengrotto!"
Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.
Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.
"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.
A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."
Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.
---
Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.
Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.
"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.
"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"
The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"
"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"
Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.
Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"
"Thank you,"
"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.
Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"
"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"
"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"
You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"
Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"
You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"
Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.
"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.
Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"
Floyd and Azul groan in unison.
Jamil's Kalim's Ending
"Kalim al-Asim!"
Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.
"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"
Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.
Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.
Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.
"Wh-"
The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.
"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"
Your eyes widen. "You- you-"
You breathe a sigh of relief.
Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.
Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.
Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.
"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"
He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.
"Grim!" You whisper-shout.
"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.
Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"
You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.
"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."
"It could be worse,"
"Much worse," he agrees.
A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.
"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."
You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.
"...Thank you, Jamil,"
Vil's Ending
"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."
Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.
Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.
After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.
"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."
Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.
"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"
"You really don't have to..."
He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"
A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.
He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.
"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.
"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"
Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.
The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.
Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.
"Come here. I need to have a look,"
You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"
He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.
Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"
Good Ending
"And our winner is... M-"
"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.
"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"
"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"
"Well I- I-"
"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."
Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"
"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"
The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.
Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"
"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."
"But-"
"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."
---
A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.
Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.
"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."
Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"
"No- wait, canceled?"
"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."
Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"
#I enjoyed writing this. thank you anon <3#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#epel felmier x reader#jack howl x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader
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First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore
The things you do to make your girlfriend.
“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”
You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.
Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.
It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.
Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?
Hah.
Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.
Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.
She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?
You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.
But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.
There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.
The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.
Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.
Was there something on your face???
“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”
She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.
It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.
Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.
A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.
Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.
So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.
You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”
There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.
Oh no.
You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?
This was just how it was.
Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.
Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.
“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”
Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.
“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”
A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.
“Sure. He’s all yours.”
But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”
“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??
“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”
“….yes…”
His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”
So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.
“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.
You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.
A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?
You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.
Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”
“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.
“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”
You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.
“(Name), what’s your safe word?”
You blinked, “what’s that?”
There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.
“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”
“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”
“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”
“Oh… would green be for keep going?”
Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”
You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?
“Starting now.”
You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.
Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.
Smack!
Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…
He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”
Oh right. Counting…
“O..One.”
It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.
Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.
“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.
“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.
Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”
“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!
Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”
“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”
“But—”
“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”
It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.
“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.
Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.
You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.
It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.
“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.
This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.
His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??
“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”
Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.
He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.
“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.”
“What?”
“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.
Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.
The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.
You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.
No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.
That was a first.
You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.
He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”
“Y..Yeah..”
“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.
First and only? What?!
“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.
“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.
Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”
“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.
If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…
Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.
You wanted it so bad.
You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”
“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.
His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.
“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.
You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”
“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”
“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”
Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.
Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.
“(Name)…”
You let out a strangled hum.
“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”
Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.
@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi
#bottom male reader#x male reader#uke male reader#sub male reader#male reader#mlm ns/fw#smut drabble#mlm nsft#x male smut#male bottom reader
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Lucifer’s lewd habits౨ৎ
Nobody asked for this one, but I can’t stop my mind from wondering about Lucifer’s kinks and preferences, so… I’m posting some of it.
(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) Probably going to make part.2 if I remember more things.
Everything here is consensual. I’m talking about a scenario where both of you are aware of each other’s boundaries.
📌 TW: Shameless smut, explicit descriptions of lustful acts, intercourse.
Tried to keep it gender-neutral.
๋࣭⭑Lucifer is the shameless type of guy, the one that will grip into your hair or neck while you are making out and slowly push you down, asking for a blowjob without words. He won’t stop pushing until you finally reach the goal.
He likes it slow, going deep, and will groan when you suddenly circle your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.
๋࣭⭑I think he is someone who doesn’t like PDA while others are looking, but while in public, without catching any attention, he will twist your nipples over your shirt just to see them hardening. He will chuckle and mock you, whispering into your ear on how easy you are.
๋࣭⭑He will make you beg for him to take you, I’m not saying just playfully, but almost making it annoying/painful. Lucifer is a sadist, so, for him, seeing you actually getting mad for wanting to have sex was pure entertainment.
๋࣭⭑Loves shower sex, Despite his busy schedule, whenever he finds a free moment, he'll send you messages inviting you to shower together.
๋࣭⭑Accidentally spread his wings when too excited or too close to an intense orgasm. He won’t be embarrassed tho, but it can startle you a little o_o
๋࣭⭑Will give you lustful stares when you are talking in public, and will smirk when noticing the growing blush on your cheeks.
๋࣭⭑Purposefully rubs himself against you while “helping” you reach for something and lets you feel his intimacy throbbing with excitement. (I headcanon that the house of lamentation has big furniture, since they are slightly taller than average humans)
๋࣭⭑Loves when you worship his body, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as he observes your lips showering him with kisses.
๋࣭⭑Probably will ask you to kneel down and brushes his shoes against your intimacy, enjoying every whimper, every gasp you let escape from your lips.
๋࣭⭑While being the top, Lucifer will grab your hips with force and slam himself into you repeatedly, just to painfully slow down, making him slide in and out. Will chuckle seeing your needy reactions.
๋࣭⭑If he is the bottom, he will make sure to edge you, circling his hips on your lap slowly, making it go deep and then stop, feeling how your body tense with the feeling of almost reaching the peak and calming down again, never reaching the goal.
Plus for MC's habits with him౨ৎ
๋࣭⭑MC boldly grasps his horns as they engage in heated make out sections, unapologetically reveling in the sensation of pushing him to his limits. They adore the subtle frown that crosses his face as he submits to their dominance, though it's clear he thoroughly enjoys it.
๋࣭⭑Casually grabbing Lucifer’s ass as he walks by or while he is trying to give a serious speech. They would take care not to embarrass him in front of anyone tho, just silly moments where they know this would be possible, and they will only receive a threatening glare from the avatar of pride.
๋࣭⭑Nibbling on his ears. For me, Lucifer is a touch starved old man that gets shivers from almost anything, so nibbling on his ears would make him yelp softly, and he will blush if someone is around and hears it.
๋࣭⭑Will steal pecks from him while he is trying to scold them, making his cold heart melt little by little and as they notice him getting excited, they will rub him over his clothes, making the demon whimper softly.
IDK if there are grammar errors, wasn't really trying hard for this one, just wanted to share my thoughts.
Masterlistɞ 📌
#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me one master to rule them all#evllsposts#obey me writing#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me luci x reader#obey me luci x mc#lucifer obey me#om lucifer#obey me hcs#obey me headcanon#obey me smut#obey me swd#obey me x mc
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River
River was a walking enigma.
Instagram, TikTok, Facebook- hell, I even tried looking for a yearbook. Nothing. I had nothing on the guy. Like an illusion, he merely appeared, did his work diligently and then promptly vanished. In fact, his most common phrase around the office was a “Sorry, I can’t- busy.” His distance seemed to put some people off. That only made me want him more.
When Chelsea threw a quitting party, he dropped in, chatted for a few minutes and then left without saying goodbye- except to Chelsea. He wasn’t rude by any means. I’ve only ever seen the guy be polite. I personally found it quite hot. His mysteriousness brought an allure about him.
During another quitting party- a dinner for Mark this time, I tried to make conversation, asking him why he was named River. I actually asked the question in a few roundabout ways. Most I ever got was a “just what my parents named me- they thought I’d have brown hair”. I tried to pry for his hobbies, asked what he did for fun and he only responded with a “I watch baseball, go to the gym, watch TV. I guess”, before asking me about mine. The conversation was cordial, and probably a little boring, but I was captivated. This had been the closest I ever sat next to him.
My breathing quickened, ever so slightly, as I watched his shirt struggle to contain the form within. I traced the vascularity in his hands, the craftsmanship in the sculpt of his neck, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut when he would reach to grab a napkin. There was a full plate of food in front of me but I was only salivating at one thing.
The conditions were not ideal- but what choice did I have? The guy was like a ghost. I laughed a bit at the irony. I sat right across, trying to filter the scents and the sounds of food and camaraderie to focus on him. This would take all my brain power. I steadied my breathing and sharpened my focus, as I continued to answer and ask mundane questions about some work projects we both had. I started my work, mimicking every microexpression, every slight movement. I tailored every word from my mouth- even my delivery to slowly match his. This had to be subtle, of course- I’ve found out the hard way in the past how creepy this process could look in public if done too quickly.
River’s eyes blinked slower, like a haze was forming in his mind. I followed suit, weaving my slight impersonation in and out of our conversation. Like a pulse, I felt our movements begin to sync. Almost there. Now came the tough part, slowly drawing him out and isolating him without lo-
“C’mon, let’s all get shots- uh… River you ok bro?” Mark asked.
He shook off his daze, surprised at himself before laughing off the weirdness.
I was pissed the rest of the night, forcing myself to hide the permanent glare I would have worn for Mark.
As the night drew on, River left early- of course, and I continued on, staying a bit longer to wish Mark well in one final toast for the night.
That would be the last time in a while I’d be so close to him. The following drought was unbearable. For the next few months, no one quit. No big holidays were coming up, and our office wasn’t much for parties. Instead, I had to satiate myself with glances and the occasional short conversation.
= = = =
“Does that work for you two?” My boss asked. I nodded readily, eyeing River’s response. Another nod.
Fuck. I practically jumped when the boss said those words. A presentation. A presentation with River. A chance.
I think I deserved an Oscar for my acting in the few weeks after we were both tasked with the presentation. A wrong font here, corrupted save there, a missed chart. I “worked” tirelessly on the presentation with River, making sure to leave enough mistakes and gaps to drag the process out.
The guy was too polite, and I knew I had to use that against him. I ran the clock, watching the days progress into weeks and his brow furrow as stress deepened. Of course, I had to play my part, acting innocent at every step. A quick “sorry” for every mistake I planted was enough to ease suspicion. I even faked a confession about roommate drama causing my decline in performance. I thanked how private he was in that moment- I lived alone. Ever the hero, River was quick to take on the responsibility- even covering for me on few occasions. I knew I had to get inside this man.
Then came the day before the big presentation.
“I- uh… okay. Maybe we can finish this at my apartment,” He stated, clearly uncomfortable. I held back a moan.
= = = =
“You can set your stuff down there”.
It was a bit boring compared to what I expected. He was definitely put together at work, so it was a bit surprising to see some mess littering his apartment.
A few posters dotted the walls. Some basketball guy, I guess. An action movie. A generic college banner. His furniture boxy and grey, and the carpets running through the floors were in need of cleaning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his kitchen was pristine, practically sparkling, aside from a small collection of protein powders and supplements.
“Uh.. sorry I don’t really have any snacks.”
He sheepishly opened the near-empty fridge and offered me a choice in drink. Some kind of pre-workout beverage and water. I took the water.
“Okay, I need to head to the gym for a bit. You still have a few slides you wanted to add, right?” A Hoodie-wearing, duffel-toting River asked. I nodded, trying not to look too eager and straining to keep my eyes from staring at his well-defined legs.
And then, there I was. Alone in River’s apartment. Alone with River’s apartment. I ran to his dirty laundry pile.
“Mmmphhhh” My eyes rolled back as I took the deepest inhale of my life. These were River’s boxer briefs. The same ones he had just worn. Doused in the scent of a day’s work. It was damp- guess River was a sweaty guy, though the long walk and couple flights of stairs to get to his apartment may have also been culprit. I was paralyzed in bliss, as I took in every note of his natural musk.
It reverberated deep in my chest as I continued to circulate every ounce of River I could inside me. The underwear was practically glued to my nose and mouth before I finally relented and drew them away, gasping for air. Exquisite.
My dick jumped at the sight of a single strand of his pubic hair, like flickering flame. A perverse smile planted itself on my face as I gingerly pulled my clothes off. I shivered as the cold, damp fabric that had just touched his bare flesh was now touching mine. I felt his hair on my flesh, now caked in his sweat. The elastic snapped around my waist as I released, a bit tight. My breaths fell shallow, ragged as I sat there basking in his cold embrace.
Next came the tank top. I mentally hit myself for not putting it on first, as it was a significantly less erotic experience. Still, as I slipped my arms through the holes that his once filled, my dick couldn’t help but twitch in approval.
I ran to his bed, gripped his sheets, and stifled another moan with his pillow. This man had, until today, been a full on mystery to me. And now, here I was- deep in the recesses of his apartment, nestled in the indent on his bed, buried in fabric stained with traces his scent and natural grime. I was drowning in the all aspects of his daily life. It was an intimacy with River previously unheard of and practically a miracle I hadn’t cummed yet.
The next few moments were sluggish, mind hazy and drunk in pleasure, as I wore my jacket and pants over the River clothes I had already had on me. I mentally thanked myself for wearing tighter clothing earlier today, as I felt them compress River’s undergarments tighter on my flesh. I walked back, sitting on the dining table and pretending to work.
A few minutes later, the door clicked open and a panting River waved. He no longer had a hoodie on and left nothing to imagination. I eyed the feast before me.
I fucking knew it. This kid was ripped.
I salivated as my eyes followed every contour of the body that would soon be mine. His flesh was flush and glistening with sweat.
“M-must have been some workout,” I mumbled. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.
“Yeah, fucking kicked my ass today,” River said with a short laugh. My dick twitched. River never swore, never gave off a jockish vibe at work, but here he was, beaten tired and unable to contain his natural state behind a facade of politeness.
My lip quivered when his post-workout scent wafted into my nose. It was divine. True to his name, River had an earthy, deep musk about him. A delayed, almost sour afternote followed, the kind that clings to the nose. It riled me up, knowing this offensive, raw blast of testosterone had been working next to me for the past two years, hidden by layers of work clothes and pleasantries. River was cleaned, masked and sanitized for corporate America. And now I had a private showing to it. I was feral. I wanted-no, needed to be piloting this hunk for myself.
My trance was broken when River dropped to his couch, laughing slightly. This wasn’t his normal laugh- it dropped all pretense and I recoiled out of reflex, thinking back to that same laugh that emanated from the football jocks back in high school.
A lazy pair of eyes drifted up to meet me. “Sorry bro, just new a few minutes.”
I gulped. This was my chance. No need for precision, no need for focus. River was vulnerable. In any other circumstance, I’d be syncing to his movements, slowly, imperceptibly altering his as he would start following mine. Then I could pull him into my trance, lead him to a safe area as I continued the process. This was different. River served himself up on a platter for me, beaten to near immobility by his workout. No way was I gonna miss this. I stripped quickly, abandoning my original plan.
Without a word, I walked closer to him, grabbing his wrists.
“W-what are you”. In that instant, i jumped on top of him, allowing my body to follow the contours of his.
He grunted in defiance while I began to grind in pleasure. “Ughhh! Fuck bro. I can’t! I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be River!”
The process was quick- his drenched, energy drained flesh practically grabbed at mine, drawn by my own energy into itself. It was osmosis. I moaned as I saw the process start, and River’ meaty form encapsulate my own. His arms and legs splayed as he screamed at the intrusion. “What the fuck are you-“ He grunted in pain as he felt our two forms begin to meld. I laughed a perverted laugh, eyeing how deep I was inside him. His lack of energy had been his downfall.
I licked the inside of his head, feeling him shiver and whimper at the intrusion. I whispered venomously. “What am I doing?” I thrusted myself deeper into his muscled form, “I’m becoming River. I’m gonna wear you like a fine red suit.” I felt my facial muscles match his and pulled him into a smile he did not intend to make. “You boring prude. This body was built for sex. You’re starving this poor thing. I bet it’s backed up.” I whined in half-whispers. “Let me take you for a ride.” River moaned in horror, kicking his legs into the sofa in discomfort as his muscled back began to close over me. Possessing the ginger felt like a warm, dank hug. “You feel that?” I teased, this time his voice mimicking mine. He could no longer respond as it had become my mouthpiece. Instead, his head repeatedly slammed the sofa in resistance, forced to wear a smile that was not his own.
I laughed, feeling our combined chest heave in deep pleasure as I jammed my fingers deep into each bicep. I drilled into each arm, relishing in feeling his muscle fibers slip past me. Power. He shook as he tried in vain to resist my fingers filling into his. Putting on those vascular hands like well-fitted gloves. “Fuck yeah bro… that’s the stuff. Dominate me. Command me. Control my every move. My nerves are itching for their owner. Put this ginger meatsuit on…” I mock in his voice. Tears welled in my eyes, as I felt him continue to slam our slowly merging head into the sofa. I purse our lips before moaning further. “Wear my clothes…” My legs wove into his, twisting and binding into one. “Wear my personality…” the bottom half of our merged face laughs, while my new eyes blink away angered tears. I felt his memories begin to flow and surround mine. His rage and desperation flowed through me. The slamming slowed, coming to a complete halt as a reborn River’s eyes blinked into a lewd, sinful glee. “Wear my life.”
I stood up, piloting my new body towards the mirror. “You’re still in there, aren’t you?” River’s outward defiance no longer showed over his perfect flesh but his mind was a raging storm. “Good.” His body lit in searing pain, sore muscle tendon and fiber forced to flex. I felt the storm calm as he was stunned. I myself winced slightly before my arousal imprinted itself through River’s face. This was my pain now. I could feel every fiber of his musculature tearing and repairing themselves. Building back stronger with the pre-workout mix he had drunken earlier. Building back with me embedded deep inside. Our leg wobbled in pain, before I slapped it back into submission, forcing it to flex. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff.”
I roared and patted my new chest and abs. “YEEAAAH!” Just one last piece of me was left. An intentional dessert I had left not internally bonded with River.
I let his normally stoic face relay the erotic pleasure I felt in wearing this flesh. I then pulled a “serious” face, bringing pained biceps into a flex. “We gotta live up to our name bro… gotta let the river flow”. A greedy tongue licked the dripping sweat hanging off ginger hairs of his armpit. I wanted to savor this. The tangy, salty nectar lingered in our shared tongue before I began to make out with my new reflection. With a grunt, I slammed River’s pelvis into the mirror, groaning as my growing hard-on began to fill into his dick. At first contact, I felt our senses mingle and the cold metal of the mirror. I grunted, trying to reign in the lust. With our linked sensitivity, I could feel my original body’s dick worming itself into my soon to be River-flavored cock. I thrusted my rod up, relishing in the soothing bare metal beneath the perverse cock and cock sleeve combination.
I grabbed at my new rod with one hand, while the other greedily dragged across my new body, feeling every new muscle and crevice and damp piece of the hunk. River thrashed inside me, disgusted at feeling his own flesh violate itself. At watching this new carnal entity that wore his face and name.
“S-someone’s gonna find out. Someone will fix this” He threatened in my mind.
“No bro… you’re the perfect host. No one at work knows a thing about you”. I cooed in his voice. “When we quit, when I take this thick ginger cock for a joy ride-“ tug “No one…” tug “No one will know.” I groaned as the last of his dick bonded to mine. We were complete. “I’m River now!” I shouted before devolving into whimpers of pleasure as I felt River’s warm seed stream out of me.
River’s softening, sore wood was forced back into full mast as I eyed the full extent of my- now his- depravity. Not wanting to waste a drop, I smeared my new lotion onto my new flesh, caking in layers of his drying sweat with layers of drying semen. I could only hear gagging in my mind as River was forced to taste his own produce. It’s my body now anyways, why shouldn’t it reek of sex and his natural musk?
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it’s well past two in the morning when all your guests have left, and it’s just you and jeonghan and some cardboard boxes.
the two of you are taping the last of his boxes shut, a movie you’ve seen a million times playing on the television, both of you talking and laughing over it. the party has just died down — yours and jeonghan’s farewell party.
he’d said it sounded too dramatic, when you first brought it up. because neither of you were going far. you to your new studio apartment and jeonghan moving in with seungkwan, now that the lease was up and the owner wasn’t planning to renew it. jeonghan had dubbed it the “house-cooling” party instead, the opposite of housewarming — the kind of stupid joke he only makes to you.
still, though, as you sit among the boxes and leftover pizza, you feel kind of — wistful. when you say as much, jeonghan laughs, reaching over to tap under your chin fondly.
“wistful?” he repeats, smiling.
you huff at him. “i’m going to miss you, that’s what i’m saying, you ass.”
“i’m not going far,” he reminds you. “we’re literally within twenty minutes of each other. fifteen on a good day.”
“still!”
“i’ll visit you all the time. i’ll get tired of seungkwan doing karaoke. and then we’ll basically be roommates again, because he doesn’t stop doing karaoke.”
jeonghan’s tone is light and easy, but you can’t help wondering why the two of you aren’t going to be roommates again. why you hadn’t looked for an apartment together. neither of you had brought it up, things just fell this way, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about how jeonghan always moves your washing to the dryer for you and how much you’re going to miss him.
because you really are — not just because of laundry. you guys were roommates before you became actually close, brought together by mutual friends; you’ve never known a jeonghan that wasn’t jeonghan, my roommate, and suddenly it feels a little like losing him. because suddenly you love him, and not in a jeonghan, my roommate way. not in a jeonghan, my friend way either — in a way that puts aches in your chest, has your ribs living up to their name, acting a cage for your heart. you’re not sure how long it’s been, but it’s been long enough.
you’d been clinging to the hope that it would pass; everyone knows you don’t date your roommate. but now — now he’s not your roommate, and it hasn’t passed, and you don’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing anymore.
on one hand: you could tell him. bare it all out, in the open, raw and bloody and unfettered. on the other hand: there are so many things you would rather do than experience rejection. you’d be able to take just being his roommate if you needed to. could’ve held out until it passed.
“maybe we should’ve moved in together again,” you voice, forcing your voice light and airy and casual, playing it like a random off-hand suggestion.
jeonghan’s vehement shake of the head is surprising, and it stings. more than you expected. “no.”
you can quite literally feel your face fall, staring at him without pretence. “what?”
he looks up from the box he’s packing, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his brown eyes. “ask me why,” he instructs softly.
you swallow thickly. it’s hard not to, when he’s looking at you like that — warm and familiar and intense and scary, all at once. your eyes follow the strand of dark hair that falls over his forehead, suddenly realising just how close he is. “why?”
jeonghan sets down the tape, tilting his head to the side, choosing his words slowly, carefully. “because if i ever ask you to move in with me again, it’ll be very different to this. can you pass me the scissors?”
you barely even hear the last part. “different? different how?”
“just… different.” he shrugs, reaching over you for the scissors himself. “you’ll be dating me, for one thing.”
time seems to come to a halt when he says those words, and you barely manage a whisper — “what?”
jeonghan rolls his eyes and pokes your forehead. “i’m trying to say i’m in love with you, dipshit. can you please take a hint?”
you malfunction. it’s late and your brain is already fried enough from finals and he’s staring at you, and this isn’t a dream, this is real.
and so you launch your roll of tape in his direction.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?”
jeonghan doesn’t even need to dodge the tape, but still gapes at you. “what?”
“you can’t— just drop a love confession like a — like a hot potato, and then expect me to catch it!”
“a hot potato?” he repeats, and then he’s biting down on a laugh, shoulders shaking. “did you just call my love confession a fucking hot potato?”
“no! yes, well — ” you flounder, confused in your embarrassment. “oh my god. you’re so mean. i wasn’t ready.”
jeonghan’s still laughing. “if i’d warned you in advance, what would you have answered?”
and now it’s your turn to stare him down: “you didn’t ask anything yet. what am i supposed to answer?”
that only tilts jeonghan’s smile further upward, and he scoots closer, leaning on one arm. you can smell him, soft and fresh and so incredibly near, as he speaks — “you’re smart. i think you can work it out.”
you kiss him first. quick and sweet, over and over. you think it’s probably answer enough.
also in my head this is the same couple from this drabble but they can be read separately
an / hana comeback era ⁉️ this is just something i wrote super quick but HIII it’s been almost 2 months since i posted some writing 😭 i’m so sorry this awful piece is the first thing u guys get, hopefully will write something better soon!
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura @dokyeomkyeom
#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan comfort#jeonghan fic#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan scenarios
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°
"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#marauders fanfiction#marauders#taylor swift#ttpd#the tortured poets department
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✰⋆⁺₊⋆ - i always win. - ⋆⁺₊⋆✰
- xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ -
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today was you and xavier's day off. the wanderer activity lately has been very low compared to a few months ago, signifying that it's that time of year where you guys can take a little break once in a while.
in the fresh morning of april, a lovely tuesday, the sun shone through your blinds blinding you as your eyes opened. turning to the other side to wrap your legs around xavier, they plopped onto nothing. in concern, your eyes sprung open, you hands lifting your body up.
he was gone. but where? turning back around slowly, still infected by sleep, the light from your phone presented '8:15'. now in your how many years you've know xavier, he never wakes up this early unless it's forced (by you) or he has a very early mission do to at the base. stretching as you moaned from the feeling of the heat, your ear picked up the noise of the door opening.
there he was, in nothing but his boxers walking around the house as he sweats from a possible workout. smiling, you sleepily waved at him, too tired to be speaking. chuckling in return, he ruffled your hair before pecking your neck softly. moving your neck due to the tickly sensation, a small whine escaped your mouth.
"..why are you awake so early..?" your voice was tougher than normal, a slight rasp involved too. he tried to drag you out of bed properly but you resisted. he sighed.
"you know. it's actually not that early. i'd say 6 is early."
shaking your head no, you tried to pull him back into bed. your eve wrapping around his arm as you used your horrible morning strength to get him down. he watched you, just admiring you before you gave up.
"come on. let's shower together." he won the fight, grasping your hands in his as he kissed them, running around and kneeling down. he looked back, silently telling you to get on his back.
slowly and steadily, you shifted your body to his back, holding onto his neck your legs clinging onto his waist. he slowly rose to his feet, holding the bottom of your thighs to secure you tightly. walking to the shower, he tried to to wake you up more after hearing your cute little snores.
"hey hey hey! no more sleeping." you practically scoffed at his words, rising your head and biting the back of his neck.
"coming from you...master...sleepyhead..." a yawn separated most of your sentence even though he understood it all.
after making it to the bathroom, he placed you onto the toilet, making sure that you were leaning on the wall so you didn't fall. your tired eyes slowly tracked his steps.
putting the water on...grabbing a few bubble maker bottles...making sure it was warm...looked at you..
"come on darling. bath time."
holding your hands out to be carried, he used that to take your his shirt off leaving you only in your underwear. the soft black lace absorbing his light heart. you stretched as the morning sun started to wake you under before a sharp feeling came from your hip.
your eyes shot down to stare at xavier's long fingers snapping the side of your underwear against your skin before going onto his knees. his hand rushing up your thighs gently, caressing the soft skin.
"...xav...what r you doing.." your hands rested on his shoulders, his hypnotising baby blues trapping yours. he had his cheeky face on. his hand slowly pulling your underwear down. his fingers patting at the wetness of your pussy.
"so wet..this early baby?" he teased,biting your thighs as your head flew back, your hand covering your eyes. a slight giggle running out of you.
"for you of course. you can't be so hot and not expect me to- OH! my gosh-"
you gasped, instantly grasping at his hair. the sensation of his tongue fighting with your flaps, sucking harshly of the flesh as he pulled you closer by your thighs.
you whimpered, crying out as he continued to eat your out, harshly yet so deep you couldn't even breathe before he was back at it again. the digits of his fingers in you increasing by the minute. your legs clenching around his head as he sucked harder, his normally soft persian blue eyes now stern and dull.
"don't...move." he growled into your pussy, making sure you couldn't move as he went faster and faster.
" wait!- wait, baby please- xavier! i can't!!-"
you squealed trying to catch a break, you weren't prepared for this. your legs trembled violently around his head, your head nearly banging against the bathroom wall behind you by the force of his tongue.
"xavier i'm gonna-" the cool in your stomach was intense but he didn't slow down whatsoever, you squirmed and begged in his mercy. but he didn't stop. he wanted to see you squirm. he wanted to see you struggle to take the pleasure he was giving you.
suddenly, his face was coated in your liquids, and he didn't waste a single drop, if he wasn't always pussy drunk than this would be a different type of hungry.
after taking all of your results off his face, he went back to your core, desperately looking for more. taking every ounce of you into his mouth.
"okay! okay! we get it...we get it..." you huffed.
he picked you up, slowly placing you in the tub before situations himself right behind you making sure that your were stable.
"your pussy is such a delicious dinner, you know?" he whispered in your ear as you bit his hand softly.
"stop it..you're so cringe eww- ow!"
he pinched your side as you bit hi harder. soon enough, water was everywhere and you were scrapping inside the bathtub. slowly you gave up as he started tickling.
"OKAY! you win!-"
"see? i always win."
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do not steal my work even tho they are trash!
date made: 21-25/4/24
#l&ds#l&ds x reader#lads#lads x reader#love and deepspace#xavier smut#xavier#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace x reader#xavier love and deepspace#xavier l&ds#xavier lnd#xavier lad
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Among the Bullets
Chapter 2 Part 2
Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, He just sucks at flirting, but he is trying bear with meee)
Warnings?: jealousy? Body descriptions, nothing really.
With a defeated huff you set the tablet down, leaning back in the chair was that was worse for wear. The light from the screen being the only real light source of the room, the hours of searching for a file you knew would be under the most secure of networks left you with a file that was more crossed out than not. A file you, of all people, should have access to. Yet perhaps the other people that was on that team thought not, and some part of you agreed with that.
After anothe few hours toying away in the hangar you had told yourself it was high time for an actual break, so you had gone to the mess hall, spending the thirty minutes pulling apart what you thought was a roll and reading over the briefing file for the up coming operation. Seemed easy enough, although there were a few things that were crossed out, so you assumed that was on a need to know basis. Even with all of the black ink covering the words in the upcoming operation, it didn’t hold a light to the scribbled out words of the past- a past you were now trying to uncover for your sake of mind.
The way that the captain had referenced this, that mission, as if he knew the details you hadn’t been given until you had blood on your hands- he had information you wouldn’t ever be given. And you had been there. You were stay on the slow moving fan above you, mind whirling with questions you had buried deep down, just as you were about to doze off into a light slumber a knock came to the door, heavy set of hands yet a soft knock- enough to startle you
“Hi!”
You blink to the change of light and see the kind looking girl in front of you, bit taller, holding a duffle bag like the one they had given you in her clutch. Her blonde hair neatly slicked back into a bun and her eyes giddy if not fatigued. When you see her you give her a little smile, “Can I help you?” Maybe that was a bit rude but she didn’t seem taken back by it.
“Um, the- the guy with the mask- like the halloween one?- He said I’ll be sleeping here.”
Oh. A roommate. Lovely. While you try to hide your ghost of a smile from her words while speaking about the lieutantle you look her up and down, clean clothes, ironed even, white blouse tucked into a clean pair of khakis, black riding boots. She…if it was able to say, was the exact opposite of you. With a few moments you nod and open the door some more, rubbing your eyes.
“You must be the mechanical engineer for the operation, I’m chemical engineering” She chirps in response and looks around, setting her bag on the sofa, which would be your bed as you would insist she take the actual bunk. Being a scientist would explain a lot of things, such as her apparence. To that you hum, and she noticed your uneasy expression from the doorway, “Louise. My name is Doctor Lousie Johnson.” ‘
“You actually say doctor?” That was what you said, which was most likely not the best thing to say but it was you had. Sure, techimcally you ahd your doctorate degree, but the idea of introducing yourself like that made you cringe. So as the silence crept, you shrugged, introducing yourself with a shake of the hand, “And technically I’m a mechanic for the operation.”
Louise tilted her head, carefully taking out the tablet she had been given, her touch delicate, “Ah. Well in the briefing document they said engineer.” Her eyes lit up as she looks back up to you, “Oh! On that note can I have access to your notes on-”
“Eh, Tink-”
You spin on your heels as you hear the scotts voice interrupting your thoughts and the words Lousise was speaking, looking at him as he was half knocking on the door. He flashes a smile to Lousie, and then looks back to you, “Goin to the bar with Si and Kyle, you’re comin.”
With a frown you retort, “I try not to drink the night before I have something important to do.”
“Nows the bes time to drink,” He frowns to that, his eyebrows furrowing, “Si said to drag ya if needed, so gimme y’er arm.”
You tilt your head with an exasperated look and turn your head as Louise bites back a little laugh, the woman quieting as you give her a glare, her hand clasped over her mouth and eyes scrunched up in laughter. Without missing a beat you look back to the man, “I’m not going to the bar, Sergeant.”
You sit in the booth, sipping the shirley temple as you read over the document for the thousanth time. It wasn’t anything special, the group was mostly sitting at the bar, chatting away with the doctor- who was aptly very quickly nicknamed ‘Doc’ You didn’t quite care for bars, however everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves- at least everyone expect for the Lieutentant, who somewhat mimicked your own posture but at the bar top. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention though, because that would be crazy, why on earth would you be watching-
About seventy percent of your attention was on the group you had isolated yourself from, how they laughed, how Lousie just clicked. It was idootic, you would most likely never see these men again in your life, nor her, after this operation, yet here you were feeling some sort of elementary school rejection. You were on a job, you were getting paid a decent chunk of money for this, and not to mention there were about a billion other factors which motivated your actions. With another sip of the drink you look away and to your tablet again, wiping off the oil smudge you had been too lazy to care about till then.
“Ya know its not safe for a lady to be out here alone,” a voice snapped you out of your trance, yet ther voice had no real body, you figured out it was coming from the person one booth over.
A quick glance back to the group, who were laughing with their backs to you, you bring your lips to your drink, speaking slowly and hushed, “You can say Hi like a normal person, Jack.”
A gruff laugh, and while you can’t see his face the rain covered grey hoodie was enough to confirm it was him- after all, you bought him that hoodie a few moments go by and you can hear him take a long swig of what you would guess was rum, “They want an update.”
A long silence and you take a breath, hands looping around the glass as you think, “Can’t give them one yet, they haven’t told me anything…important, no location, time, nothing, they told me to be ready for anything and to dress warm.” You look around and then clear your throat, “They did ask if I was comfortable with 4320s.”
“The tracktor?” He almost aughed, and for a spilt second you could almost see his smile before you replied.
“Urals 4320s, dumbass.” You snipped back playfully, and look down to your glass, getting lost in thought for the millionth of a second, and when you looked up you noticed the luetiant looking at you, eyes narrowed, with a wary gulp you wave.
Somehow, you had been given the task of dragging the ‘somewhat’ buzzed doctor back to your room, with a arm under her, aggravatingly small, torso you lead her through the hangar. Listening to the ‘buzzed’ words as she spoke, now, you wouldn’t lie- she seemed like a sweet girl, kind, and very smart in her field- if not a bit dense socially, most likely the only thing you both had in common. Yet there was something that rubbed you the wrong way, and perhaps it was your one jealousy.
She was what your parents wanted for you, perfect hair, perfect body, clothes, smile, eyes, makeup, all of it, she reeked of perfection. The worst part was that you couldn’t be upset at her for it, she was too kind. “I think- I think they’re nice.”
“Mmmhm,” You nod slowly as you kick the door to the room open, and that had been your go to response to anything the woman had to say, a quick mmhm and a nod, or maybe just a little lifeless laugh that would trigger her own chaotic giggles. Now, this was technically a task you had taken upon yourself, the boys had offered and you knew deep down they wouldn’t have done anything- but the ‘girl code’ was ingrained into your blood. So, with a roll of the eyes you took her back to the room, which now left you there.
“The scary one is-is funny,” She stumbles out as you sit her down on the bunk, a hand on the top of the head to keep her from hitting her head, her eyes going over your emotionless expression, and she hums, “But he was looking at you.”
“You’re drunk, shut up.” You snip and then kneel down, taking off the boots with tough pulls which would get you a grumble and a scold, that you couldn’t care enough about. It took about ten minutes of standing by the bed and shoving her back down before she finally relented and stayed down, so you hum once she was out. So you push yourself up to stand, walking over to the desk, grabbing your bag and pulling out the tablet.
The faint light in the bottom of it catching your eye, so you frown and grab the flip phone, double checking the door was locked as you lean against it, looking over the message.
Mission is in Poland- dress warm. Be safe.
The contact name stung in your mind, Jackson. Unshokcing that they would have him be your contact, nonetheless, made your blood run cold every time you thought of him, much less when you spoke to him less than two hours before.
You too, okay?
You stood outside the office for a solid few moments after you knocked before you heard the voice telling you to come in, and just as you remembered it was dimly lit, and the harsh smell of the smoke hung in the air. With an exaggerated clear of the throat you look to the captain, “Good morning, Sir.”
He motions for you to sit down, which you dismiss the offer with a shake of the head, “What do I owe the pleasure?”
“I have a few questions.”
The man seemed to almost expect this and he nods, “About the doctor.”
“Why a chemical engineer? From my experience-”
“This isn’t about your experience. You were chosen for this operation, that should tell you everything you need to know, solider.”
You stare at the captain for a long moment, the words rubbing you the wrong way, they way he was relaxed making your blood boil, “I am not a solider. I will never be a solider and I will not be treated as such, I am consult and I demand some information on this operation aside from the vests I will be wearing and the truck I am expected to ride on. A chemical engineer and a mechanical one all in one op leads me to the assumption that is like operation that was lead on March 20th 2018 and I will need that information if you expect me to proceed.”
Price stayed quiet as you spoke, seeming to take your words with a shaker of salt, which he prayed you would be thankful for, “You have all the information you need, as does Doctor Johnson.”
With a scoff you go on, “With all due repsect-”
“That will be all.” He interrupted you, his gaze hard and he holds out his arm for the door, “You are dismissed.”
“Did you get an’ sleep?”
The voice snapped you out of your train of thought, zipping up your bag and you look up to the lieutant, giving him a brief laugh. Maybe to ease your own nerves, sure everything you were about to do made your blood run cold but the sight of a man who might as well just be a ghost at that point seemed to do nothing for them. He lived up to the callsign. It was four hours before you would go on the transport, for the operation to actually begin, and you were getting all of the things you thought you would need- however they didn’t tell you what you would need, so you were going in blind.
“Enough, sir.” You respond with an equally amount of lackluster.
He looked you up and down, the uniform they had given you to wear was ironed and clean- unlike what you would normally wear. “You’ll be fine, yeah?”
With a quick glance up to him you hum, and you look around, eyes landing on Lousie as she chatted up Johnny and Kyle and you look to the Lieutant, “With all due respect I need to know why we need a chemist. I need to know what I’m walking into.” It wasn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the words spilled out and it was much too late to turn back. “Last time I had a chemist on my op-”
“Take it up with the Captain.”
“I tried. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”
The lieutenant looked down at you, the mask seeming a bit more intimidating up close, the black paint smuged around his eyes and the thread he used seeming to be tight to the cloth. He seemed to be mentally debating something, ot jdudging you, you couldn’t figure out which, and you didn’t quite want to. So with a grunt he picked up your bag without warning and began to walk to the transport.
“Hey???” You yell after him, a bit more confused than anything, catching the attention of the rest of the group from the other side of the hangar, “Thats mine?!”
Annnnyway that’s it! <33 comments and all that jazz mean a lot to me!!
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod fluff#coco's chaos <3#cod x you#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfic#coco’s chaos <3#simon riley fluff#simon ghost x you#ghost fanfiction#ghost imagine
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☆ DARK RED. ☆
Frat!Satoru Gojo x F!reader
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
⚠️: ooc!satoru (sorry), not proofread cuz @*the-parasites-control-me seemed busy and i don wanna bother😔, one use of y/n 💔, grammatical errors! I suck ass!!, angsty angsty
WC: 1,258.
A/N: just a 30 minute drabble(?)/fic(?) Cause I absolutely LOVE steve lacy's songs. And his music. So, why not make a fanfic heavily inspired to one of his classic songs I ADORE. Big shoutout to ahem, "dark red 1 hour" cause thats what ive been listening till i finished writing !!, Happy reading, teehee!
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
You lean into the mirror as you apply your pink lipstick on your smiling lips. How could you not smile after Satoru finally agreed on spending time to go to a small date with you?
You were always shocked satoru, godforbid one of the most known frat guy in the campus, gave you, a basic student smitten with him from the start, a chance to go out with him. on how you're actually in a relationship with him.
But a small, annoying, little devil on your left shoulder would always ask you, "are you sure you're in a relationship with him? Does he even see you in a relationship with him? Introduce you to others as his 'girlfriend' ?"
Sure..with his well-earned name as a frat guy along with being in their sorority was..uncomfortable to say the least, he promised his eyes were only looking at you! That he'd never go to any party without your knowledge!
"He already has broken those promises." The imaginary devil sighs out your name. "..Past is past.. no?" You reply silently.
Past.. is every month considered long enough to be called "past"? 'Past' where Satoru could barely drag himself in his (and your's) apartment in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and a strong scent of another woman's perfume, neck covered with lipstick marks, love bites, and hickeys, polo lazily and wrongly buttoned. Calling out your name. And when you would rush to him, eyes wide with concern. He would drop down to his knees, clinging to your waist and apologizing with crocodile tears, begging you to not leave him, "Satoru..I don't think I can handle this anymo—" "Please, Baby!..don't you give me up.. please don't give up..on us.!" pleading that he would chance his antics for you, "Then tell me. what are those marks on your neck?" "Its nothing! Believe me honey, I belong with you only..and only you, baby.." as long as you give him one more chance.
One. More. Chance. A broken record he keeps repeating. And you would fall for it. Every time. "Cant you see he's genuinely sorry? You're a monster if you leave him!" The angel in your right shoulder would always shout, its only sad you agree with it. You didnt have any choice but to drag him to bed, whispering sweet reassurance in his ear until he falls asleep, bound to forget the whole conversation, possibly the whole night when he wakes up. While you silently cry yourself to sleep. Heart breaking and aching, only his false words keeping it from disintegrating. "Only you, darling...only you.." "I know, 'Toru." You could only force yourself to stop crying and act like nothing was wrong, dread already in you as you simply wait and ready yourself the next time this will happen again.
But no, you can't possibly leave him, of course you couldnt! You love him! You shake your head and push your thought away, its the future you have to focus on, and the future is your said date, remember!
Your eyes dsrt to the small clock on your table. 6:00 PM. pulling away from the mirror, you admire yourself one last time before going to that expensive restaurant you had reserved using satoru's black card. A simple dress in your favorite color, slight makeup adorning your face. Its good enough for you.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
It's been what? One— no, two hours since you sat on your reserved seat. Alone. Where was Satoru?
You've noticed the servers giving you looks, some even audibly whispering pity about you, so you take your phone out to ignore them.
Your senses, or that little devil on your shoulder, whispers to you: "somethings bad about to happen to you." Once more, you continue ignoring them. All the voices, the looks. Everything you can ignore. You text Satoru again, only for your texts to be seen. You don't know why, but you feel it coming.
As you shut your phone off, you feel it vibrate, once, twice, three times! It must be your boyfriend!
With a hopeful smile, you quickly open the hidden messages, only to find out it's Geto, satoru's best friend. Your smile slightly drops.
Another wave of dread washes over you as you read his messages.
G-S: *Video attachment.*
G-S: *Location attachment.*
G-S: im sorry, y/n.
Now, your oh-so hopeful smile completely drops. You were afraid to watch the video. But unfortunately, you did.
It was Satoru, sitting on the couch manspread. With one of the most popular girls in another sorority, face caked with make-up, a skimpy skirt and a tube top, on his lap, giggling while she plants hickeys on his neck, all while he plants his hands on her hips and encourages her more, even whispering on her ear to hump him. shamelessly. Laughing when they mention you and responding by rolling his eyes with a smug grin.
You dont realize you tears endlessly flowing, ruining your eyeliner and foundation horribly, not until a waitress runs up to you, genuinely asking if you were okay.
You turn your phone off as soon as you caught you consciousness. You look around, and to your surprise almost everyone was silently looking at you, some giggling, some judging, some concerned. With your head spinning, you hiccup out an apology before dashing out the restaurant, already calling for your best friend to pick you up.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
Waking up from his drunk slumber, Satoru sits up, quickly noticing he was in a different room with a different girl. 3:36AM. "Ah..shit." He silently panics, remembering you were back at his apartment, possibly waiting for him. As he scrambles out the bed, the girl he doesn't even remember its name was clings onto him. "Mmh..Satoru!~.. W-where r' ya..g..goin..!" "Huh—..sorry..gotta go back to my own apartment.." he rushes to escape her grasp, swiftly slipping on his clothes and attempting to straighten it out. "Hmph! You're going back to your nobody girlfriend again, ar'nt ya.." she whines, pouting her lips out. "Just break up with her already..stay with me..atleast I can pleasure you.." visibly disgusted with her words, Satoru takes his phone before going out the door. "Baby..this is just a one night stand, dont forget."
He opens his phone,
5 messages from "my only one.♡".
His eyes wide with surprise as he opens the notification, only to be greeted with more than 5 messages. Shit. He must have left his phone open while he was.. he'd rather not think of that.
You're messages was from asking about the date to pleading for him to appear, in a span of two hours. He completely forgot about the date.
Before guilt comes to him, he shakes his head. He only had to put on tears and beg for forgiveness, and you would take him back again. It was alright. He was okay.
With a cheeky smile, he walks over to his motorcycle, his mind already planning out his words for forgiveness. Easy.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
Thoughts run to his mind. From "did she finally leave you?" To "how dare she leave you, who does she think she is?" But his thought were answered as he checks the open closet. Barely any of your clothes were there, and the few remaining were either his shirts, or the clothes he gave you. All of it were scattered, as if you rushed to pack your things.
Oh.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
A/N: Part 2? Let me know! But uh.. tommorow will be our school's honor rolls, and I'm 100% sure i won't have honors. For the first time. In my life. Aghh! I saw my brother once when he also didnt get honors in 3rd quarter last year in g7.. he was beaten, grounded, and he said bye to every gadget he had for a month. Soo..uh. I'll be offline for a while! :3 wish me luck !!
#Spotify#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#x reader#jjk#fanfiction#☆— 【 fanfiction !! 】#☆— 【 ★ talks !! 】#Gojo#satoru#gojo satoru#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you
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can i request headcanons of any hxh characters your choice (preferably including illumi, chrollo, and/or feitan) with a crush on/unestablished relationship with a gender neutral reader who refuses to fully align themselves with anyone but has an incredibly OP ability that requires their blood or body (can shoot blood in like spikes, detach their limbs to chase down and drag back runners, use their blood and/or tears to heal wounds, can just regrow lost limbs including their head, ect.) that would make being on their bad side more trouble then it's worth
so every fight they kind of /have/ to get injured to use it. Plus their ability weirdly doesn't seem to use nen (chrollo can't copy it and gyo doesn't show anything, ect.)
and when they're finally asked about it they're casually like "oh yeah, I'm not human. I was actually created to be an unstoppable force that infects and destroys humanity, but that's honestly too much work. Plus you give me snacks so I'd rather just hit whoever you tell me to." and their reactions to the fact this insanely overpowered goober they've fallen for is a stray shapeshifting little abomination who could have murdered the entire human race and that they're lowkey lucky reader likes getting bribed them so much
(Sorry if that's too long btw, I thought you'd like the idea but I couldn't think of a better way to condense it 😅)
HXH With an Unaligned!OP!Reader
Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor
Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
i do not like how this came out but posting anyways lol...
Warnings: mentions of blood, experimentation and violence, reader isn't human if that counts as a warning
Illumi Zoldyck
the way you met Illumi was... not ideal to say the least
he was on a job to kill some scientist guy but little did he know scientist guy had quite literally created a monster
the day he was going to do his mission happened to be the day your power was finally realized
annnndddd Illumi walked in on you killing scientist guy and literally everyone else who worked for him
you had managed to pop your arms off and launch them like missiles, turn your blood into weapons and spikes around the room and also not die????? and grow your limbs back???????????
the weird part was Illumi couldn't sense any of your aura at all
he just assumed you were a super advanced nen user and were able to still keep up hatsu really well while fighting
which led him to the conclusion that he should either A. run away or B. try and get you on his side
when you noticed him just standing there you turned to stare at him like come at me bitch
"So? Are you here to poke me with more needles like the others? It won't end very well." "Actually I was here for the guy in the lab coat, but it seems like you did the job for me."
realizing he wasn't a threat (or trying to be because you know...you cant die) you let down your guard down
you ended up just following him around after that, not really having anywhere else to go so Illumi decided on plan B
turns out it took a lot less manipulating than he thought
he brought you to the estate and you agreed to help him with whatever for a popeyes chicken sandwich
watching how you wandered around the estate aimlessly and lounged about Illumi quickly realized you only use your abilities when threatened or bribed
so you become his personal little treat fueled killing machine
he takes you on missions with him because he doesn't trust you alone at the estate...
eventually he asks you about how your hatsu is so good and you're like wtf is that
and he's like What.
you tell him you we're pretty much created in that lab and they did all these tests and stuff and you didn't even really know how or why you had the power you did but you found out you did the day you met
and you were all like "they were so annoying and they told me to do stuff for free, I'd never kill you though you feed me :3"
he is so glad you are clueless and he got to you before anyone else because you could take over the entire world if you really wanted to
he is going to marry you ASAP
but again, you being clueless did not understand what marriage entails
and you agreed for the same reasons you agreed to literally anything else this man has asked of you
you are Illumi's most prized possession and no matter how freaky you are, he really does cherish you as normal people would their spouse
Chrollo Lucilfer
running into you on a heist was definitely unexpected
especially since you looked like you just got out of captivity
mistaking him for an enemy you shot your fist off at him and barely missed
and he was like woah im not an opp dw
then your hand grows back and hes like !?
he asked why you were there you explain that you were some sort of war weapon yada yada yada the guys got annoying you killed them and yeah
and Chrollo offers you to come back w him and the troupe and you're like sure if you feed me
so after the heist is over Chrollo takes you back to Phantom Troupe hq and then talks with the gang blah blah blah dismisses everyone and then takes you to wherever the hell and buys you whatever you want to eat
and while you're stuffing your face bro is like
"Your powers are pretty impressive. Mind telling me how they work?"
and not caring you tell him, mainly focused on your meal
and he's like huh what a useful ability time to steal it
one thing leads to another and he somehow gets you to touch his weird book and when he flips to where your nen should be the page is blank and he is insanely confused
and hes like "Why didn't my nen ability work on you?"
and you're like wtf is nen
and hes like oh my god I don't think this thing is human
so he asks
and you're like "I literally told you I'm a war weapon. A weapon created for war, but that's too much work."
now he is confused but also intrigued
he offers for you to join the troupe and you're like
"But being in a gang is so much wooorrrkkkkkuuuuhhhh"
you can literally destroy man kind but you don't because you're LAZY!?
you're not officially part of the troupe but you're practically an honorary member because you follow Chrollo around after your first encounter
and he decides it 's better than nothing
Feitan Portor
I can't think of a clever way for you guys to meet LMAO
umm uhhh idk maybe you were created to take out the chimera ants and happened to get deployed in meteor city the same time the troupe was hunting down the 'queen'
so when the troupe got there you were already fighting some ants
you look human enough but your abilities make Feitan think you might not be
soooo he tries attacking you before he ended up getting to the lizzard ant crocodile lady thing i don't remember what she was
and he couldn't beat you and you're like wtf do you want from me I'm trying to do my job
and hes like ??? you're not an ant?
and youre like no
and hes like oh and leaves you alone
then he throws the entire sun at the ant lady and leaves the building
he kinda forgot about you until he felts something lift the back of his cloak
and he's like !!?!?!??!
and he looks behind him to see you crawled under his coat and took the snacks he hides under there for himself
and he's like what the fuck
how did you even know he had those???? (you could smell it because you have super enhanced everything)
ok i just remembered his cloak got destroyed in this scene but pretend it didn't
anyways he snatches the bottom of it away from you and tries taking the snacks back out of your hands but you are quick to dodge
he's irritated but he just lets you have them he's too tired to deal with this
you end up following him after this like a lost puppy and the rest of the troupe is like ??????
but they can't get rid of you
and on the way out of meteor city you were like yap yap yap weapon yap yap created in a lab yap yap yap immortal
feitan could not care less about what you had to say but he was like ??? to the immortal thing
maybe you weren't a bad thing to keep around
#hxh 2011#hxh x reader#hunter x hunter#hxh#hxh illumi#illumi zoldyck#chrollo hunter x hunter#chrollo lucilfer#chrollo x reader#feitan#phantom troupe#hxh chrollo#feitan x reader#feitan hxh#hunter x hunter feitan#hxh feitan#hxh fanfic#hxh x y/n#hxh x you#hunter x 2011#illumi hunter x hunter
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Plastic Hearts – Part 23
Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂
<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
23. Every Breath You Take
“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.
“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.
“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.
“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”
“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”
Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.
He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.
“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.
Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”
Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”
“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.
“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.
But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.
Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”
“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.
Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?
“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.
Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”
“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.
“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.
But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”
Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.
Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”
Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.
Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.
Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?
He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.
“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.
Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.
“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.
Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”
Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.
And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?
But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.
However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.
But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.
Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.
“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”
“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.
He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.
Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.
Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.
Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.
“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”
Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.
“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”
See? Wine.
“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.
“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”
“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.
“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.
“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.
There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.
Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.
And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.
On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.
“Dean, please…”
That was the fourth – like clockwork.
Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.
Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.
“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”
“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”
“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.
“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.
“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”
But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.
She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.
Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.
But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?
With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.
She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.
He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.
All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.
However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.
Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.
Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.
But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.
“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.
“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.
Oh.
“Uh…”
Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.
The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.
“Dean? Dean!”
Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.
He does know how to make an entrance.
Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”
“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”
“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”
“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”
“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.
The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.
“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.
“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.
“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”
Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”
As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.
“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.
“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.
“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”
“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.
“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.
Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.
“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.
Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.
“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.
“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”
Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.
“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”
At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.
“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.
Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”
Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”
“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”
Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.
“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.
“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.
“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.
Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”
“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”
“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”
Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.
Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.
Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.
“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”
“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.
“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”
“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.
Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.
“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.
But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.
And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.
“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.
“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”
“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”
“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”
Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”
“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”
“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.
Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.
“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.
With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”
“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”
“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.
“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.
“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”
“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.
“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.
“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.
“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”
“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.
“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”
Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.
“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.
“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”
Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.
“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.
Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.
“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”
Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”
Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”
It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.
“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.
“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”
“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.
Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.
“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.
24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4
Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔
But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉
TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus
Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi
#plastic hearts#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester imagine#director!dean winchester#director!dean winchester x actress!reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles characters#dean winchester au#supernatural au#glow au#dean winchester reader insert
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can we talk about just how effective jock would’ve been in pushing a jo character arc. It’s not just the fact that Brick acts as a good moral compass, but it’s also how he encompasses EVERYTHING jo tries to avoid (he’s open with his femininity, emotional, sensitive, clumsy etc) and jo…still likes and respects him??
Like, she views him as an equal to the point of overestimating him (you and I both know that mf was trying his hardest in the thumb wrestling scene and jo was all “oh he hardly tried!! what a gentleman!!☺️” GIRL YOU NEARLY BROKE HIS THUMB). You can tell she genuinely enjoys competing with Brick, and she’s never bored whenever they interact. She’s often the one to go up and talk to him, despite beating him time and time again. Jo views him as a worthy competitor even after witnessing him being the most embarrassing man alive (who the fuck tries to dislocate their hip to impress a girl) and pissing himself.
The point is, Jo clearly holds Brick in somewhat of a higher regard despite him showing weakness so often. And that’s important because Jo’s main driving force is not wanting to appear weak.
You can see little moments of her showing care or concern before immediately switching back to her cutthroat attitude. Caring is a “”weakness”” that prevents you from winning (demonstrated by Brick in episode 7). When Jo volunteers to have makeup put on her, she immediately covers it up with a facade of toughness and says she’s “only [doing it] for the good of the team” (Compare this to Brick’s “Yeah, you heard me.” after announcing his dream of going to fashion school). She’s definitely struggling with internalised misogyny and associating femininity with weakness, but that’s an essay for another day.
Brick shows so much “weakness” and yet she still somewhat respects and even cares for him more than the other contestants. And I find that SO interesting.
Especially because he's her rival??? Their relationship is the embodiment of competition. Overcompetitiveness (or toxic competitiveness) is one of Jo's most glaring flaws, so to have her actually care about the one she should be against the MOST? It's a really good way of showing her overcoming her own toxic competitiveness.
Also, the parallels between Jo basically kick-starting Brick's character arc about prioritising the wellbeing of others...and then having Brick be a focal point in a Jo arc about prioritising the wellbeing of others...chef's kiss
I'd also like to add a little detail in relation to Jo's contestant biography. Specifically on her weird dream about letting a guy win because she thought he was "attractive." Yes this was hinting at Brick idc it was way too specific and odd compared to the other dreams, and Brick is the only guy we know who constantly competed against her (and lost). And I'm definitely reading into this too much, but it's actually quite interesting how her subconscious attraction to the guy overpowered her very, VERY intense need to win. Guess that's why it was a weird dream, but it still makes me think about the potential of Jo sacrificing her win for someone she grew to care for. Also I want representation of masc women in relationships that aren’t just played off as a joke
I can go on about this all night (I wish I could) but yeah. I really wish they'd give Jo a proper character arc because she really deserved one. She deserves to be able to grow and develop because she's a great fucking character, and Brick was literally the key to all of that. Peace out
#jock rant number 2736e72827#total drama#jockjockjock#td jo#td brick#td jock#tdroti#ps shout out to maggot in rat’s clothing for being what i’ve always wanted in a jo character arc. and also being excellently written
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Some pre-season 2 headcannons for Dndads
Spoilers for both seasons ahead!
Read at your own risk!
- Ron retwists Terry Jr's hair while in the forgotten realms to the best of his abilities. Afterwards, Samantha would teach him how to do it better and it becomes a bonding experience for the two
- Lark and Sparrow would notice one day randomly they have pointy ears. Henry would have to explain to them that they always had pointy ears, they just thought it was normal because Henry had pointy ears. They're actually, y'know, half elves.
- Nicky would call Glenn "Dad" half the time on accident. Pisses Jodie off but Glenn would just shake his head and be like "just cuz I'm cooler doesn't mean I'm your dad, ayeeeeee". Makes him a little sad in the beginning but it becomes a running joke between them
- Terry Jr and Grant 100% had a short dating stint in the forgotten realms but both of them said "Nahhhh" after
- Darryl realized he's bisexual post forgotten realms. He goes to pride parades with Grant wearing little pins but he keeps it in the down low.
- Lark is on the aspec spectrum, Sparrow is pan like his father. They wear shirts that way "All or Nothing" with both flags as a joke.
- Ron takes up fishing with Terry Jr but half the time they just would go feed the ducks instead of catching any fish. They use popcorn instead of bread
- Henry, Darryl, and Ron have a weekly get together where they hang out and sometimes talk about what happened in the Forgotten Realms. It's a lot of trauma on them all so they confide in each other
- All the dads were at Sparrow's wedding and definitely cried more times than anyone could count. Henry and Darryl danced like idiots while Carol and Mercedes talked over a glass of wine
- All the wives have book club every week, which often turns into just them talking together and enjoying each other's company
- Ron has nightmares a lot of the time about Willy. Henry has nightmares about Barry. Both often spend time post nightmare together, with the other dads as back- up if needed
- Henry has a giant fear of throwing up post doodler, to the point he only throws up if his body forces him to. Otherwise he swallows it down.
- Grant met Marco on Fortnight
- Lark and Sparrow got their tattoos updated when they were 18 to fix them. Because, y'know, child making the tattoo wouldn't last long. Sparrow adds Normal and Hero's names to his other arm after both of them are born.
- Normal and Hero used to play with Lincoln during the summer. Hero and Lincoln play one on one while Normal would cheer them on!
- Taylor would be the one guy in summer wearing a full jacket and long pants and boots because he's constantly freezing
- Hero has round ears, Normal has pointy ears post church of the doodler
- Hermie had a crush on Normal pre-joker story but he had to drop it for the ✨ character✨ of it all
- Normal is trans (duh), and most of his binders were handmade by Lark
- Taylor has a ton of different arm crutches, mainly decorated, but he only has one sword cane.
- Grant is in therapy and on antidepressants but his true antidepressant is his family (he says this and it is not true, he's just cheesey)
Hope you enjoy
#dungons and daddies#dungeons and daddies season 2#dungeons and daddies#dndads#henry oak#darryl wilson#ron stampler#glen close dungeons and daddies#jodie foster dndads#nick foster#lark oak#sparrow oak#lark and sparrow#terry jr#grant wilson#scary marlowe#lincon li wilson#taylor swift dndads#headcannons#chaos#angst soon :)
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
—
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
—
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
—
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
#Spotify#hayden christensen#sam monroe#life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe fanfiction#sam monroe smut#sam monroe imagine#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin smut#rots anakin#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker
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sorry if you’ve already done this 😭😭😭 but could you do Avery and Gigi headcanons!! Like when they meet and become friends ((((:
avery and gigi head canons
OMG YES! i honestly didn't think of making head canons for those two, but now that you mention it, i'm extremely intrigued. might not be as good as my other posts considering we don't know a whole bunch about gigi but i'll do my best. i've also been working on requests/posts for literal hours so my brain might be out of head canon making power. hope you like them though <3.
gigi is always asking questions about avery's childhood bc avery has the weirdest stories ever bc of the way she grew up.
avery taught her self-defense after some guy tried to come after her. gigi is now better than avery and will most definitely end you if you try to hurt her (she may or may not have also learned self-defense in order to kill duncan)
gigi loves talking to avery bc she doesn't really talk often which allows gigi to spill her guts out. she always has so many different stories to share and stuff, but most people don't spare the time to listen to her.
gigi forces avery to do tiktoks with her (dances, grwms, etc) bc avery looks so awkward and uncomfortable, and it makes her laugh.
she will steal avery's coffee bc no one allows her to have any. avery knows she steals it but doesn't say shit.
gigi forced avery to talk about sheffield and what he did to her. gigi now despises (but still sort of loves him cause he's her father) her father. she didn't think he had it in him to do smth like that to a literal child.
she encourages avery to talk about her emotions and let everything out. gigi is like the mental health advocate (for everyone but herself)
gigi loves ice skating and wanted to bring avery to the ice rink with her. avery didn't know how to ice skate though so gigi taught her how to (their lessons involved a lot of falling, near death experiences, concussions, etc)
avery is like an overprotective mom. if gigi is getting bullied or smth, she heads to that person's house/school or whtv and beats the crap out of them (verbally). they always run away in fear and never bother gigi again.
gigi buys avery clothes all the time. she thinks avery is really pretty and likes dressing her up.
avery gives gigi her credit card and tells her to spend money on whatever she wants (gigi calls avery her sugar mommy)
for some reason, avery is a really good twerker (is that even a word) and gigi forced her to teach her how to shake ass.
gigi feels comfortable enough to open up to avery and ask for advice/vent. she finds avery to be really non judgmental and straight forward which she appreciates.
avery and gigi will constantly gang up on grayson and pull pranks n him (they once replaced all of his expensive skincare with cheap shitty drugstore skincare and he actually screamed)
avery helps gigi with her homework when she's struggling. gigi is convinced avery is a saint bc she always explains the stuff to her better than her actual teachers.
gigi is bi (at least in my head), and avery was the first person she came out to.
they both talk about how much of a fucking coward grayson is when it comes to his feelings for lyra(?). they'll be watching grayson and lyra and they'll be saying things like 'omg how fucking dense can a man be, like, just fucking confess', and gigi will be like 'i fucking hate men'
avery bought her a cat (idk if its been mentioned in tbh if gigi actually has cats or if she just likes them, but if she does own cats, just pretend avery bought her another one)
they go out together and buy her cat(s?) cute little outfits (tutus, gucci coats, bows etc).
gigi has (not anymore though) a tinder account, and avery found out about it. she absolutely freaked and deleted the account telling gigi that it was dangerous and that she'd find a man for her if she was that desperate.
avery never got to experience things that most kids got to experience (she grew up too fast/didn't have the opportunity), and gigi finds it sad, so, she brings her out to like trampoline parks and stuff. it makes gigi happy seeing how happy avery is.
avery is always apologizing to gigi about her father. she blames herself and thinks she should've found another way to escape (when she was kidnapped). gigi reassures her by telling her that there was no other way and that, after everything her father did, he sort of deserved to die.
they shit talk men. they fucking hate them.
in my gigi and grayson post, i mentioned gigi loves knitting. avery knows this and buys her yarn all the time. when she's out with max (or alone or with gigi), she goes to stores that sell yarn and looks for smth cool for gigi.
gigi and her family don't have much money after what happened in tbh. avery gave them all a huge amount of money. acacia feels bad, but avery insisted. when gigi found out, she was so fucking happy she literally knelt on the floor telling avery she was a literal god. she then cried in her arms.
gigi gets her to dress up in the most scandolous shit ever. she somehow found out avery's bra size/underwear size and buys her lingerie whenever she goes out. avery secretly loves it but pretends to be scandalized.
#the inheritance games#jameson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne#avery grambs#xander hawthorne#nash hawthorne#gigi grayson
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#76 broken pieces for whatever two characters you would like, please.
I have a brainwave that these two needed to share a scene - so here they are.
This was the third date this month.
It felt funny, saying that, that Molly was going on a date, but Billie wasn't sure she had any other word for when a fellow dropped by in a nice suit, picked up a girl in a nice dress, and the two of them went out to dinner.
A date. Could you even imagine? It was Berlin and the war was over and they were going on dates again, real dates, where you spent time cleaning yourself up first and the fellow actually had a front door to show up at. Not like they'd done during the war, where a date could be meeting a guy for dinner in the next foxhole, or sharing a blanket, or watching a fire. Any spare five minutes alone.
But here he was, on the front mat, shoes shined and hair combed. She wondered what they were paying him - his suit looked too nice for Berlin. Everything here was shabby after six years of war, and he looked out of place in the hallway. "Mr. Rosenthal." She opened the door and let him inside before returning to her seat at the table.
"Sergeant Mitchell."
"She's almost ready - she found a run in her stocking and had to change."
He shrugged. "We're not in any hurry."
Billie nodded, and returned cagily to her magazine, glancing up to follow his eyes around the room, taking in the small bits of art on the walls, some of it stuck up with tape, the calendar in the kitchen, the dishes in the drainer by the sink.
George Stout wasn't ever one for running a really military outfit, and the fact that they were Army without the Army meant private billeting rather than barracks. It was just the two of them in the apartment, though there were several other officers in the building, which was run by an absolutely ancient little old lady who knew very little English. (Molly was trying to learn German, just to get by a little with her, but the Army phrasebook wasn't getting them very far.)
He looked a picture, standing there in the front room - you could say that much. He would have looked even more handsome in class As, with that dark dark brown bringing his eyes out in full force and the mustache that made him look like Tyrone Power. An easy charmer, one of the gang would have said. But she'd known easy charmers before. What do you know about him, Mol? Like, really know? Apart from the blue eyes and the curly hair and the manners and the smile and the fact that he can't sing? He's been coming here for a month and what is he? A hotshot pilot and a lawyer and what else? What's he hiding? Where's the catch?
Because there's always a catch, isn't there? With a boy like that. He's too good.
Billie rose from her chair and moved to put her now-cold cup of coffee in the sink. "I don't think she ever told me where you're from, Mr. Rosenthal."
"Brooklyn - Flatbush."
Billie had a sudden desire to call up Ruth and ask her what she knew about flyerboys from Flatbush. "And you still have family there? Parents, siblings? Girlfriend?"
He nodded. "My mother, and my sister." He smiled a little. "And no girlfriend."
Notice I didn't ask about a wife. "You still close with them?"
His smile never wavered for a moment. "My mother writes me nearly every week. Sister less often, but she'll put a word in Mom's."
"And your firm, are they - are they taking you back, when this is over?"
"I'm sure they will be." He moved closer to the kitchen and looked her in the eye. "You know, I could provide personal references, if that would take less time, Sergeant. Former commanding officers, friends - my rabbi." He smiled at her surprise. "I'm a lawyer. I know what an interrogation looks like."
Billie squared up, her eyes meeting his with no hint now of gentle prying. If you thought the rabbi was going to trip me up, I'll tell you now I don't care. "I like having all the facts." And the fact is that I don't know you, Robert Rosenthal, and I don't like that.
"And the fact that I like Molly an awful lot?"
See, you say that and I believe you, and I hate that I do. "Lots of guys can say they like a girl, Mr. Rosenthal. Maybe even use the word love. Doesn't mean a thing later. I'm trying to establish intention and motive." There's been a war on. People say things they don't mean all the time. Isn't that why you have a job?
He was watching her with a kind of respect in his eyes, smile tugging at his mouth. "Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer, Sergeant?"
Billie felt off balance at the compliment. "The bar wouldn't have me."
He laughed at her casual brutalism, and glanced down at his shoes, considering his next words very carefully. "When you fly a bomber, the only guys you trust are the other nine in the plane with you. Imagine it's the same in a foxhole."
"After they've given you a reason to, sure."
"Guess I'll just have to work on that, then."
It was then, of course, when they were nose to nose and eye to eye that Molly walked in, beautiful in her dress uniform. "Billie Mitchell, are you interrogating him?"
Rosie stepped back, supremely unconcerned by all of it. "It's all right, Mol. We were just talking. It never hurt to have friends who care."
He calls her Mol. And he calls me Sergeant, because he knows we're not friends yet. That's what Ron did, too.
Billie met Molly's eye with a clenched jaw, almost afraid of what she'd find there. It's what you did for me, isn't it, care? And I never listened. But you're smarter and better than me, and you deserve better, too, better than broken promises and broken pieces of a heart. And if he is what he says, you deserve him, Molly. You deserve the world. And if he's not then I'll bury him.
"No," Molly said, softening a little, realizing what they were saying. "No, it never did." She sniffed and checked the fastening on her purse, fiddled with a button. "Will you wait up?"
Billie shook her head. "You'd better take the key. I'm not going out."
Molly nodded, grabbing the key and its chain from where it hung near the door and closing the door behind her as she and Rosie left. He would ask her, at dinner, what that had all been about, and perhaps Molly would tell him - or not. She fell in love with a guy she thought she knew. It ended like you think it did.
#asked and answered#noneedtoamputate#i have written a thing#mercurygraypresents#tds cinematic universe#masters of the air OC#masters of the air x oc#molly mahoney#molly x rosie#billie mitchell
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