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wonderlandwalker · 2 months

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First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner.

Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it

“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.

“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.

“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.

“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.

“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it.

The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.

“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”

“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.

As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.

“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.

“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.

Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out

“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.

“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition.

He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely

“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.

“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.

“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand

“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.

Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold.

“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.

“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.

“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking

“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.

“I’d love to.”

“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.

“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence.

“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 days

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All In 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn’t.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You finish your cocktail before you go into the concert hall. Roxie grabs a third and you pass, not wanting to run back and forth to the bathroom. Besides, you don’t really like the way the vodka stirs in your stomach and little behind your eyes.

The band is decent. You don’t know any of the songs and only vaguely heard of the artist they are a tribute to. Still, you enjoy the live show; you focus on their instruments and how they use them. You always wanted to be musical but never had a sense of tone or melody.

By the end of the set, you’re yawning. Your sister is on her fourth drink and you can’t tell if she’s swaying to the music or if it’s more than that. As the rows empty, you shuffle out with the rest of the concert goers. The bright lights of the casino greet your squint and your ears pulse slightly from the noise of the strumming and crashing show.

“Mm, so, what’d’ya say?” Your sister makes almost every word into one, “how do we spend this?”

She fishes out the chip and you give a sheepish frown. You almost forgot about it. You still think you should turn it in. You don’t feel right spending someone else’s money. You do that often enough, much too old to be living off your mom.

“Don’t be boring,” she warns, “jeez. It’s just cards. Odds are, whoever dropped it, would’ve lost it to the house anyway.”

She claps her hand around your shoulder. You pull back the sleeve of your cardigan to check the time. It’s after ten! You haven’t been out that late since... ever.

“I’m not boring,” you cross your arms and shrug her off. “I just... am different than you.”

“Boring,” she repeats. “You can’t spend all day in your room.”

Yes, you can. And you do.

You don’t argue. When she’s like this, it’s only bound to become a scene. There are too many strangers around for that.

“Black jack,” she declares and spins the coin. It slips from her grasp and falls between her feet. She bends over shamelessly in her dress to pluck it up. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

She struts ahead and you shuffle after her, nervously wringing the strap of your purse. Hopefully she loses it quickly and you can just retreat home in defeat. You catch up to her as she reaches the stairs. She giggles as she leans on the railing and you take her other arm, trying to support her wobbly steps.

“Want another drink?” She asks.

“No, think we’re good.”

“We?” She scoffs, “I’m fine.”

“Please, Rox, let’s just find a table,” you peek around as her voice rises a bit louder than you like.

“Pfft, fine, but if I win, I'm getting a drink.”

You nod. Go along to get along. That’s what your mother always told you when it came to your sister. She’s more like your father than she cares to admit.

You get to a table and she sits easily on the high seat of the tall stool. She lays down the single chip and the dealer offers to break it into smaller ones. She nods and shrugs. You envy how smoothly she just breezes through things.

You stand behind her. You don’t want to take up a seat and the stool is too much of a climb for you. You can see it wobbling as you attempt to hitch yourself up with the crossbar. You’re good, you shouldn’t get comfortable.

You listen to the shuffle of cards as your sister murmurs something you can’t make out. You can only hear the low drone of voices as you stand back. You sidle out of the way as a man claims the empty stool beside your sister. He buys in and another hand is dealt. Hasn’t she lost yet?

The man leans into your sister and you grimace. She turns her head to listen to him and she giggles. Your cheeks blaze hotly and you cross your arms and rock. Neither seem to notice you as they get closer and closer.

As the game progresses, you can only really make out what the dealer says; the different numbers that have grumbles coming from other players. You bring your hand up to pick at the button on your cardigan. The man puts his arm around your sister’s back, his hand on her hip as wiggles in her seat coyly. What about Tom?

You peer around awkwardly. Do you stop her? Remind her of the boyfriend that got her the tickets for tonight? You bounce in your flats and pause as you find someone else staring back at you. Or are they? Just as quickly as your eyes meet, the stranger’s eyes flit away and he’s back to chatting with another man. It’s the very same man who gave you the chip. Maybe her forgot you. That’s not a surprise.

You return your attention to your sister. The man has moved his arm between them and your sister squirms. You watch his elbow as he pulls his hand back. He’s touching her leg. She’s wiggling and suddenly, she shoves him away and screeches.

“EH! I got a boyfriend, perv! I said stop.”

Her voice carries along the high ceilings and you cringe. You back up, cowering away as she stands and the stool teeters dangerously. She fists her hand and you think for a moment she might just hit the guy. He scoffs and turns in his seat.

“Babe, just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“Whatever. You fucking creep!” She hollers.

“Ma’am,” the dealer calls from the table, “is there a problem?”

“Y-yeah,” she hiccups, “this dude had his hand up my skirt.”

“She’s drunk,” the man shakes his head, “listen to her.”

“I’m--” your sister’s denial catches in her throat, “doesn’t mean he can just touch me.”

“Ma’am, if you’re drunk, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m fine. I'm not that...” She slides off the stool and stands, grabbing the chips in front of her seat and tossing them across the table. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”

Her ankles tangle as she spins and she barely gets her balance before she storms away. Her strides are uneven as she bobbles drunkenly. You watch after her with wide eyes before you follow. She leads you into the bathrooms as she growls and grumbles. She slams into a stall and you stand outside.

You wait until she comes out. She’s quieter and her eyes are hazy. She washes her hands and applies a new coat of lip gloss.

“What a bust,” she pouts and rolls her eyes, “one more drink and we’ll go.”

“Maybe we should just leave now.”

“That guy was such a pervert,” she sneers at you, “you saw where his hand was.”

You nod, “yeah, I did...”

“So, you know I wasn’t being dramatic.”

“Yeah, but... everyone heard.”

“Oh fuck off,” she pushes your shoulder and stomps past you.

You feel bad. It’s not that she shouldn’t defend herself. You admire that she can, but she didn’t need to be so obnoxious. You trail after her into the casino. She heads directly for the bar. You hang your head and wait behind her. This time, she doesn’t offer you a drink. She’s mad at you now so it’s the silent treatment.

“Honey,” another man approaches, “how about I get that for you?”

“Huh?” She babbles, “oh, sure, baby, that’s sweet.”

The man offers his card to the bartender and orders a highball. He leans his arm on the tall bar top as he faces your sister. She bats her lashes at him and giggles as she pulls her drink closer.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He asks.

You blink. It’s like you’re not even there. You watch awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you up. Instead, you find an empty stool one seat away.

“Roxie,” she answers as you struggle up onto the seat. “And you, handsome?”

“Sam,” he returns, “what’re you drinking then?”

You notice him touch her glass along the brim but can’t see much else around your sister. She replies and his own drink is served. You shrink down and sigh. She’ll get her free drink and then you can just leave. You hope. You hold your chin as you dread another scene.

“Can I get ya something?” The bartender approaches.

“Er, water, please,” you choke out. He seems disappointed but gets you a glass.

You try not to overhear your sister and that man. It’s awkward and you hate this. It’s not the first time she’s done it either. The few times she’s brought you along, you’ve somehow become a third wheel. It reminds you of when you were kids and your mom forced her to take you with her somewhere. She doesn’t actually want you around, she’s genetically obligated.

“Woah, baby, you okay?” The man raises his voice and your sister’s body slumps. Shoot. No.

You barely get off the stool as the man clings to her drooping body. She giggles wildly as you tweak your ankle and rush over. That man, Sam he called himself, seems somewhat calm given the situation.

“Slow down, babe,” he chortles, “Jesus.”

She’s drunk. You knew she shouldn’t have had another drink. Your eyes meet Sam’s and he squints.

“You know her?”

“My sister,” you murmur.

“Oh, right, well...” he clears his throat and looks around, “you can take care of her then.”

“Wait--” you barely keep her up as she leans on you as she’s almost sideways on the stool.

He’s just leaving you? What the heck? You guess if he can’t get anything out of her, she isn’t worth the effort.

You sniff and struggle to slide your sister down to her feet. She’s heavier than you expect and her height makes her difficult to balance. You glance over as the bartender nears.

“Everything okay?” He asks sternly.

“We’re leaving,” you assure him, “sorry.”

“Five minutes,” he taps his watch face, “or I call security.”

You nod and move your arm around your sister’s back, “please, Rox, gotta work with me.”

She laughs again, “hey, where’d that cute guy go?”

“Please,” you beg again, “don’t...”

“Oh, hi,” she touches your faces and squeezes your cheeks, “baby sister.”

You hate when she’s like this. She’s always been a drinker, ever since high school when her friends would sneak out bottle from their parents’ stash. What was once an act of rebellion as a teen is now concerning as an adult.

“Excuse me, everything okay?” The timbre makes your heart drop and you nearly let go of Roxie as she leans in the other direction.

You look up. Oh god. It’s him. That dark-haired man in his expensive suit.

“I’m just... we’re on our way out--”

“She alright?” He points at your sister.

“Tipsy,” you utter.

“I see,” he pushes his hair back as it slips forward, “can I help?”

“Uh, you don’t--”

Before you can answer, he has your sister’s other arm. He almost lifts her entire weight off of you as he supports her against his shoulder. Your entire body is emblazoned in humiliation. You refuse to look above the floor as you’re certain you must have an audience.

You get your sister across the floor and into a hallway. There's an exit sign ahead but you're all turned around. The man stops you and Roxie.

"Where'd you park?" He asks, "this leads to Lot 5."

"Oh, uh..." you blanch. You hadn't thought of any of that. You slouch under Roxie's weight and try to see around her. "I'm not sure but... I don't drive. She was supposed to."

"Ah," he clucks, "and now she can't."

"Right," you agree glumly, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Why?" He asks.

"I didn't think... I let her--"

"Did you let her drink or did she make that choice knowing she was supposed to get behind a wheel?" He challenges.

"I guess... yeah. Sorry."

"Really, doll, no need to keep going on like that," he dismisses, "well, it's late and I can't in good conscience let you wander out with her like this. Especially if you don't have a way home."

"I could..." you begin. A taxi? You'd have to ask your mom to pay the driver when you get home. "Why would you... care?"

"Well, as the owner of this establishment, it won't look good on me if two pretty girls left and went missing," he chuckles then stops himself, "sorry, that's not funny. I just... we overserved your sister obviously so it's on us."

"Owner?" You gulp. You didn't think this could be any more humiliating.

"Bucky," he reaches around you sister.

You hesitate. You can't shake his hand properly as yours is around your sister so you just sorta grab his hand briefly and squeeze two fingers, retracting with another raze of embarrasment. You barely squeak out your name.

He repeats your name before he continues, "I'll get you two a room so she can sober up."

"What? No. That's... too much."

"It's late," he insists, "here," he pulls Roxie away from you as her head lolls and she snorts. He lifts her against his chest, carrying her easily. "I know a back way, just follow my lead, doll."

"Ummmmm," you drone and he waltzes back the way he came, hardly detered by the drunken body in his arms. You can only kick yourself and scramble after him. This night could not have ended any worse. Well, you guess it could if it went the way he suggested.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #all in #au #casino au #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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kaicubus · 1 year

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Shoplifting | Wayne M.

warnings ✩° : smut, cursing, partial exhibitionism, fucking in a public place but in a private setting, enclosed space intimacy, p in v, unprotected sex bc i forgot to write a condom in, cursing.

pairing ✩° : wayne x fem!reader, characters are of age and NOT minors.

premise ✩° : known to be a bit of a kleptomaniac, you go to the mall with wayne in hopes of stealing some pricey clothes from a store only to find the two of you locked inside a changing room. what better to do than to take advantage of the situation?

word count ✩° : 4.8k

authors note ✩° : guys writers block is real. finishing this was HELL. might take a short break...just like this fic tho it’s short and rushed...i need my smut writing skills to improve IMMEDIATELY.

There’s something about the color orange that sticks out to you. Most people don’t like it, some do, but only because they’re taught it means warmth like summer or sweet like a tangerine. But you always thought orange was just a really nice color, no explanation. That’s why you chose it.

It was found on a rack in one of the most expensive stores in the mall that was known for its wide, yet very exclusive, selection of tops and lingerie. Victoria’s Secret.The prices in that store are always really high, so you just like to browse. Or at least that’s what you make it seem like.

Truth is, being a bit of a kleptomaniac has its perks. You don’t even think twice about grabbing tubes of $20 lip glosses or $36 perfumes and sliding them up your long sleeve hoodies or jean pockets. It comes naturally and you are a known prodigy in your craft. Long before anyone can realize or even detect on cameras, you leave with your pockets full of both money and items that would cost a fortune. The mall is your playground, and it’s not hard to get what you want.

Today you came in with your boyfriend Wayne, who’s known to be very strange looking. That’s not a bad thing, since it works out in your favor sometimes when you’re being followed or people try to hit on you or even worse, try and hurt you. But other than that, Wayne is known to be the reason people look the other way or lock their doors and shade their windows. No one knows how loving he is towards you, like a bear drawn to honey. He would do anything for you. But, side by side, it would be hard to go into certain stores without be given weird glances or worse, followed around.

When you first entered Victoria’s secret, you told Wayne specifically to wait outside, but knowing he’d get impatient with you, you gave him a task instead and asked for different sizes of different sets you liked. He gladly accepted, leaving you alone to try on different undergarments and admire yourself in the mirror for as long as two minutes per set. You knew he’d be at a loss without you in a forest of lace and ivory mannequins, and a part of you liked knowing that. You're lost in your own thoughts when you came across the orange and white set, now fitting along the curves of your waist and hugging the plushness of your belly, pinching you in all the right places that only enhances your beauty.

Your eyes trace along the fabric, how the white mesh covers over your barely hidden breasts, little embroidered oranges scattered across it in an orderly fashion. The cuteness of the design completely clashed with the way the bra was manufactured to be what you liked to call a window piece, but it seemed to work really well. You spin around, glancing at the panties from behind and noticing how it straddled your inner thighs and almost pushed out your ass more than usual.

It was a good look, maybe a bit too tight, but it wasn’t constricting. Of course, the price made you gag, making it more appetizing to take off and slip into your tote bag resting on the seat provided in the dressing room you're already in. All you had to do was take off the tag and toss it on the floor, on top of the mirror or something. Luckily for you, taking off tags was one of your specialties, though finding them was a struggle.

You let out a sigh and begin tapping your hand around the usual places where a tag would be : on the side of the underwear, back of the bra, inside of the bra, but none seemed to have the tag. You started to wonder if the tag was already taken off which would make snagging it much easier than you’d hoped until the sharp edge of the thin piece of hard plastic struck the tip of your finger, located on the very back of the bra. Finding the plastic attachment of the tag, your fingers curl around to gain tension and then you start to pull at it, plucking it off easily. In your moment of fumbling however, you notice the doorknob start to jiggle just enough to catch your attention.

For a moment, you freeze. Every nerve in your body tells you to stop even though your thoughts are screaming to move and get the garment off your body, but you don’t move. Your hands stay on the tag and instead, you watch the doorknob slowly turn, painfully staring with an owl like expression, each hair standing upright. That all stopped when the door slowly pushes itself open, revealing a very familiar tattered hand, bruises and cuts all over pale skin, holding two more sizes of the same two piece set you had tried on earlier.

You feel a wave or relaxation wash over your body as your eyes stare into your boyfriend’s dull, grayish eyes that seem to go full and wide when he looks at you. Only this time, his head is just slightly tilted down as he’s busy looking at other bra and underwear sets of the same orange piece.

“I got the other sizes.” Wayne says, “They said all these funny lookin’ numbers, but I just took whatever ones looked like your size and—”

You grab the doorknob quickly and pull Wayne in, shoving him against the wall next to you with a firm hand on his arm in just under a second. Your eyes flare with a flash of anger, anger at Wayne that he managed to scare you so bad, but also anger that you got worked up for no reason. The pounding of your heart in your chest makes you shake.

“Jesus, Wayne! You scared me! I thought you were a worker trying to get in here! They have sensors you know!” You say, still gripping onto him, not even paying attention to the clothing now piled on the floor. “Why don’t you knock first?”

“Why would I knock?” Wayne questions, “And why would a worker be trying to come in here when it says occupied? I thought we weren't doing illegal shit today, we got the money, don’t we?”

Though his questions make sense and have reasoning, you can’t help but remain a little flustered.

For a second, there’s silence between you two. Even if he wasn’t shoved in with you, Wayne didn’t even look down when he was first pulled into the stall with you, and you had completely forgotten you were next to being naked in front of him. You knew that the only thing protecting your dignity and saving you from embarrassment was a thin layer of orange mesh with tiny embroidered oranges. Wayne seemed to know that too.

“You look...pretty.” He says, leaning back against the wall behind him, “I like your oranges.” His awkwardness makes him cringe, but it makes you laugh instead. Wayne wasn’t a smooth talker, so his execution of his compliments hardly made way of what he actually wanted them to be. But he could hardly even focus, especially now.

“Thanks.” You twist around and accidentally brush up against him, “I like it a lot, what other sizes did you get?” You grab the bundle of hangers and hold each one up, looking at the slight difference in the sizing. Wayne had a habit of looking into you while he spoke, you always noticed. When he listened to you talk, and especially when he liked what you were saying, he would subconsciously lean forward, almost as if he was drawn to you.

In that habit, Wayne had forgotten about how close you two are and in leaning forward, ends up stumbling over you and knocking you directly into the wall in front of you. In an attempt to catch himself and not slam the both of you into the wall, his open hands fly to your hips and he quickly grabs onto the sides of your half covered ass.

There were many times where Wayne had touched you like that before, it’s no new news that you two have sex. But this time was different. This time, you guys knew you weren't alone and there were many clueless shoppers and staff around, and for that reason it felt off. Still, the proximity of both you and him closes in a second and by the way you're dressed, and the way he’s so close to you, holding you from behind.

“We should probably pay for this. It’s getting kind of stuffy in here anyways. How much you got anyways?” You turn your head over your shoulder, expecting him to move first, but he doesn't.

“Probably enough to buy this thing for you.” Wayne pinches an orange cream ribbon from the side and drops it back down, “Why oranges?”

“I saw it and it looked cute, does it not? You just said it was pretty.”

He looks at you with the same puppy eyes he always has on and gives a small smile of reassurance, moving his hands up from your hips to the sides of your stomach, slowly traveling up your body.

“You forget we’re kinda in the middle of the mall here?” A grin plays unto your lips and you grab his wrist to stop one of his hands from moving up to your chest.

Wayne lets out a breathy sigh that tickles your ear, and you start to feel his rough and calloused hand start to squeeze and massage your breast. “There’s no one around. Plus, the door’s locked from the outside.”

Pause. “What.”

He looks at you in confusion and stops all movement, tilting his head to the side so his fluffy brown hair spills onto his shoulder. “What?” He doesn’t get it.

“What do you mean the door’s locked from the outside?!“ You spin around and shove your hands against Wayne’s chest, easily moving him out of the way. You wiggle the door knob, and low and behold, “It’s locked!?!”

Wayne rubs his hair back confusingly, “Yeah? I just said that, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were serious! Did you lock it?”

“I didn't, no, but I saw a sign outside that had red marker over a piece of paper. Something about ‘do not enter’ and ‘stall is closed for maintenance and will not close.’ But it was the only one alone from all the others, and I’d be able to unlock it if need be.”

“Wayne! Do you realize that we’re both in here now?!” There was no point in arguing. On one hand, if you argue your way to a loud volume, you both would be found out and arrested for taking tags off of expensive merchandise. On the other, you would most likely rot there until something busted you out. The second option started to seem better than the first, judging by your circumstances. Plus, though anyone with half a brain could read the sign and understand it, but Wayne didn’t have half a brain. He just did what he wanted.

You flash your boyfriend an apologetic look, batting your lashes down and swaying your hips backwards to give yourself some room in the cramped stall. By the way he looks at you back, your heart aches a little for raising your voice.

“It’s not all bad, Wayne.” You touch his arm and smile, “It could be worse. Like, this could be a new changing room and the lock wouldn’t be rusted shut...and...it’d be harder to get out...?” You hide the fact you have no idea what you were saying, only trying to muster something out so Wayne would feel less horrible about himself. It was no use though, the same expression sat on his eyes and down turned lips. But he appreciates it nonetheless.

Wayne nods and looks back into your eyes. You flash him a smile before turning your back towards him, lifting your hair to the side and exposing your ribbon caged back to him. “Can you try and get this thing off? I can’t breathe very well and I’m trying to get the tag off.”

Wayne hesitates. “How’d you even get it on in the first place? I don’t even see a zipper.”

"These things don’t need a zipper. Just a pair of hands to untie it and get it on.”

He shrugs and starts to untie the piece, tugging at thin ribbons and cute lace embroidery, toying at the fabric like some cat batting around a yarn string. When it becomes clear that Wayne doesn’t know what he’s doing in the slightest, you turn around to face him and give him a disappointed look. But, in your attempt to do so, your top instantly falls to the ground, startling both you and Wayne.

“I-I had it.” Wayne chokes out, covering his eyes and desperately trying not to give into any thoughts to look at all the places he shouldn’t.

“It’s fine! Just let me—“ You bend down and try to pick up the top, accidentally bumping directly into Wayne, crashing right against his legs. When you try to stand up, Wayne moves forward to give you more room, but ends up throwing off your balance over all.

“Sorry—It’s just so cramped in here! Here, wait, go over there! No, over there—fine, ok I’ll go! Ugh! Wayne!“ You groan in frustration and finally, manage to stand up. Only, now you’re somehow closer than you were before, only centimeters apart to Wayne’s face, who’s now up against a wall, halfway down it.

His hands twitch as they lay on the smoothness of your thighs, giving into the slightest touch and only itching to have more. He quickly finds it in himself to pull you closer, bumping your exposed chest into his clothed one, not caring or even paying any mind to your nudity. He only curls his fingers of his unoccupied hand into your hair, reaching up and gently closing the gap between you.

You hadn’t realized before just how soothing Wayne’s kisses were. In fact, they were the only thing keeping you from freaking out, quite literally naked and full of anxiety that someone could walk in and see you both. But all fear washes out as soon as Wayne reminds you, yet again, to keep your attention on him.

It’s hard to focus on just him though, with people talking around you, the sound of metal hangers gliding across racks

He spoke slowly, “Can I?” asking for permission. With a head nod, you agree and maybe without thinking, you lean forward and kiss him again.

With no room to make any sound or talk after that, Wayne pulls you onto his chest, hoisting you up just enough so he can hold you with both arms. Even when his eyes are closed, he still knows the way to your body as if they were wide open. He begins to move his hand south, brushing his rough skin against your smooth body, tangling his digits in the spaces of the orange silk. You can feel his chest expand as a sign of his impatience, wasting no time to pry the fabric off your lower half.

You let him do all the work, since you have no room to, and feel as he undoes his own belt and shags it down just enough so the rough denim of his jeans hangs off his hips, enabling a window of his boxers to be seen. Even though you're too busy trying to stay quiet, the scene is all too familiar, you can practically see everything. Wayne hurriedly takes himself out, fixing his hold on you as he releases his cock out of it’s confinement, and wastes no time to press against you.

As you look down, the sight of his tip already soaked in precum makes your heart flutter. It’s just as hard and erect as you thought it’d be, seeing as the effects of your outfit must have worked like a charm.

“I uh...I thought of—” Wayne opens his lips and tries to say, his voice an level higher than a whisper.

“Shh!” You hush, already somehow winded, “Shut up.”

Wayne presses his lips together and nods, a bit stunned from your hostility. But there was no room to be nice, there was no room to do anything at all. Almost instantly, his big hands ride the saddle of your hips and he snaps back into motion.

“Hm!” You let out a small yelp as Wayne enters his way into you, pushing the lacy material of the orange underwear to the side, he uses the tip of his cock to part your legs open, his size stretching you just enough to send both of you over the edge. He waits for a second, just to catch his breath, and watches you as you adjust to his size. He’s always been a bit too big for a daily fuck, but you barley paid any attention to it. When you’ve caught your breath, you look up at Wayne and give him a nod, silently telling him that you’re ready for him to move. He nods back which moves the choppy bangs in front of his eyes to sway forward.

His pace is slow, at first, not wanting to hurt you but also a bit rushed, seeing as the public place isn’t the most convenient to share an intimate moment with. But seeing as you hadn’t planned it at all, you had little room to complain.

Even with what little room you have, you find yourself subtly grinding back on Wayne’s groin, not even thinking. The small movement makes him throb inside of you, an uncontrollable response. Before you two know it, you pull away and gasp for air, hot breaths meshing together as you try and catch what little oxygen the room has to offer. It’s stuffy, so it doesn’t help the rising temperature between you, and the heat emitting off your bare chest makes it worse.

Wayne watches as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours and breaks instantly, effectively making your lips wetter and rosier than usual. The sight makes his heart pound. You barely register his expression before he moves again, rutting himself against you like a depraved animal.

Not wanting to make a sound, two hand covers your mouth as Wayne starts to thrust his hips into yours, hard and deeply. Wayne can’t move as much as he’d like, if he had the opportunity, he’d absolutely ravage you like he usually does, savoring each moment and taking it slow. Once he grabs hold of your hips and starts moving your body against his, the combination turns deadly.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight but Wayne refuses to look away. His icy brown eyes practically glued on your eyelids beg for you to open yours and just look at him.

Labored breathing works its way out of Wayne as you writhe under his touch, scraping your nails into his back, even with a shirt on, managing to make a few red marks that’ll sure to appear later. He didn’t mind, Wayne’s only concern was fucking you as quick as possible and then find a way to get out of the dressing room without being noticed. But how can he think clearly when all he can hear is the struggled, barley muffled noises coming from your mouth?

“Open your legs a little.” You can barley hear his voice, it’s so quiet. He must’ve actually listened. “Right there, just like that.”

It feels too good. Better than usual in fact, to the point where the idea of stopping or slowing down quickly fades out of the picture. All of Wayne’s lack of reason only clouds his head and encourages him to speed up his pace, using a firm hold on your chest with the crook of his arms to hoist you up and arch your back manually for him to get in a better angle. You never thought it was possible to be this overwhelmed with everything all at once. Jolting downwards more, you let out uncontrollable moans, just barely being muffled by the palm of your hand to attempt to conceal your location as best as you can. Still though, Wayne remains completely unbothered and continues to thrust into you, the sides of his length rutting against your walls as loud as he can possibly make it.

A bit of frustration takes control as you twist over your shoulder, giving him an annoyed expression as he looks at you with a heavy-lidded stare of confusion. It’s moments like these where you wished he had a bit more common sense than what he had by default.

“S-Slow down! I can’t keep up!” You groan out, shuffling back into him to try and bump your hips with his.

Wayne grips your hips closer, harder, which makes you moan out again, only louder, and encloses the distance between your mouths with his lips on yours. You struggle to find the right part of him to grab on, slapping your hands on his chest, arm, and finding his back that eventually satisfies as a place to hold on to. He, instead, finds the underside of your thigh. The feeling of his fingers pressing lightly into your sensitive skin makes the hair stand on your body, losing grip on his back, turns into frantic touching.The sting of his nails digging into your flesh makes your head spin and very quickly forget all sensibility, allowing him to speed up again.

You can only hear the creaking of the feeble, obviously run down condition of the stalls next to you, as well as a bit of tapping from the metal lock clanging together.

With every sharp thrust, Wayne hoists you up, shoving you against the wall in front of you. He doesn’t mean to, but it’s enough to send all sorts of vibrations of heat to your core, basically slamming arousal into you each time. Wayne stares at your hands clamped over your mouth, eyes full of tears from the heightened feeling inside your stomach. You can’t bear to look at him anymore in fear of cumming too early, to which he’s well aware of, yet he pushes you against the wall one last time, nearly tossing you off the edge.

”Y-You're making too much noise—” You tear your hands away from your mouth for a second, just to protest his roughness, but Wayne takes the chance and plants his pliant lips against yours. When his mouth meets yours, his tongue roughly licks down, making a wet plucking sound when he pulls away, only to repeat several times.

“Someone might hear us, just w-wait a second!” You clench down around his cock, locking your thighs around Wayne’s waist to try and get him to slow down. But it doesn’t help.

You feel yourself spiraling, head reeling, as Wayne hurries his hips against yours and pounds into you, over and over again, just rocking you back and forth as quietly as he can. But even he can’t think right now, so he doesn’t even count how many ‘accidental’ times he’s made a loud squeak or shuffled his shoes against the floor to get a better hold on you.

Your walls tighten and suddenly you’re seeing nothing but the surface of Wayne’s shoulder, biting down on the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” The taste of cotton laps over your taste buds, but even that isn’t enough to ignore the feeling of Wayne speeding up, now desperate to chase the high you both have worked so hard to finish.

He moans in pleasure and starts to pepper your bear shoulder in sporadic kisses, biting and marking down on your skin to silence himself just enough to last for a few more seconds. Just a few more.

Just a few more was all it takes before the pleasure finally collapses and so do you, right onto Wayne. He finally stops all movement and lets you ride out your orgasm, slowly pumping in and out of you to finish himself off as well. You want to cry, you want to curse, you want to scream his name but all you can do is sit as silently as you can on his arms, holding onto your mouth for dear life. Wayne huffs with his voice, raw with restraint and gruff with passion, watching your sad attempts at trying to keep it all together despite his cum filling every gap of your body up. “M-Mhm! Mh mh!” You let out a segmented sigh, your breath falling short on and dying half way. When Wayne pulls your body off of him, just enough for his cock to spring out of your insides, you can feel a bit of slick leak down the side of your trembling leg. You dare not make another noise.

You break away panting, maintaining eye contact with Wayne as he rubs his hands all over your body, almost apologetically for making so much noise. You can hardly see straight since all the blood in your body seemed to go directly to your head. For a second, there’s silence, a time to actually catch your breath without worrying someone is waiting outside for you. You glance up at Wayne, who’s gasping for air as much as you are, smiling, “Let’s never do that again.”

Wayne laughs a bit and bites his bottom lip. You can barely move from the pure ecstasy as he sets you down gently, legs suddenly losing their solid form and quickly turning into jelly. You cling onto him for stability and quietly look up at him again, to which he gives an understanding head nod.

Wayne goes to kiss you but suddenly gets interrupted by a knocking from outside.

“Excuse me?” A voice says, accompanied by the faint jingle of keys on a key ring.

“SHIT!” You mouth, profanity now spilling out of your lips faster than ever. A flicker of panic splashes across your face as the subtle sound of the door unlocking fills every gap and space in the small room. Wayne goes to turn around to hide but ends up bumping into the wall, cursing a bit as well before spinning back to you with his hand on his head.

“There’s a uh. Wall there. Just in case you didn’t know.” He whispers.

“I KNOW THERE’S A FUCKING WALL THERE JUST GIVE ME MY CLOTHES!” You demand with an open hand.

It doesn’t feel real, but just in the amount of time you have, you manage to throw on your jeans over your shifted orange underwear and shirt, stuffing the orange lingerie top from the ground into your regular bra. Fuck knows that you aren’t leaving this trapped hell without a free souvenir to take home.

Right when everything makes it way onto your body, you straighten your posture and turn to face the locked door, feeling all sorts of rushes of emotions. Fear, panic, pleasure, worry, relief, all pumping at an all time high.

“Looks like you two got locked in!” The voice laughs, key clicking into the jammed lock with a rusted, silver key. And just like that, light flows into the darkened room and nearly blinds you both. Just as the light pours in, the friendly face of a young worker does the same, her thin lips spreading across her high strung cheeks, happily, looking at two people with stray hairs flying all over the place and flushed faces.

“When my boss told me she saw two people come in here on the cameras, I didn’t believe it!” The worker laughs, clacking her keys back onto her belt, “The sign must’ve fell off or something. So sorry for the inconvenience, we’ll give you both a discount for any item you purchase today!” She bows her head apologetically, “Let’s get you out of here, I’m sure you’ve been waiting for a while now, huh?”

“R-Right. Sorry, we just...we lost our way a bit, but thank you for letting us out. I was convinced I was going to die in there.” You give a half hearted chuckle, just to appear like a normal, functional person.

“No worries at all! Let’s get you two rung up if you're both ready to check out?”

You nod and start walking out, Wayne following behind you, “More than ready.”

As you two follow the worker, you notice Wayne lag a little bit behind. You stop for a second to grab his hand, securing him in his rightful spot next to you, rather than behind. He gives you a smile, to which you both share. The moment was over for sure, and hopefully there isn’t another time that would ever happen like that again. You let out a sigh of relief and Wayne notices, leaning down to say something,

“Maybe we should do it out in public more often. That was fun. Don’tcha think?”

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chiriwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into a typical day at Miller Construction Group. Chaos ensues (naturally).

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Desk sex, Inappropriate usage of PowerPoint, Tommy fucks around and finds out, No Beta we die like men!

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: And the hijinks are back! I wanted to try something new this week, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase all of our fun supporting characters in 'The Girl in IT'! I thought what better way to introduce everyone was to include their commentary, like an episode of 'The Office'! This one is a doozy, and I hope you all enjoy!

#MCG ADMIN 50 members Sarah (HR) Good morning, Team! I hope you're all doing well. I'd like to announce a mandatory All-Hands HR Meeting today at 11 am in Conference Room A, co-facilitated by Tess and me. We'll have a brief presentation, and for those working remotely, please log into Zoom to join the meeting. Following the session, thanks to Bill, we'll have lunch and refreshments provided. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Looking forward to seeing all of you soon! Tommy Sarah, are you gonna bust your Papi's balls in front of everyone for posting that naughty photo? 💀☠️🪦 Frank (Interior Design) Will there be an opportunity for discussion following the presentation? I'm eager to delve into the minds of SlackGate and understand the motivations behind their actions the other day. Connie (Reception) It's clearly because they're fucking, Frank. 🍆🍑🦪 Frank (Interior Design) Who is? Our fearless leader and our shy girl in IT? Until one of them makes it official, it's just hearsay! Is this meeting a hard launch for a new power couple? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 Sarah (HR) Yes, there will be an open-forum discussion after my presentation but NO, we will not be talking about the events of the other day in detail. Connie, this is a professional space and we will conduct ourselves as such. Connie (Reception) Why am I always being singled out?? Frank started it! Frank (Interior Design) Did I not professionally conduct myself? Geez Connie, I'm not the one sending nudes to our Boss when clearly, he has a girlfriend. Wait. Oops? (Sorry Connie 🤡) Bill (Civil) Frank! What do I have to do to get you to behave for once? Frank (Interior Design) Oh, I could think of a few ways... Why don't you come and find out once you're done handling your bratwurst out there? Sarah (HR) I don't get paid enough for this shit.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming together at such short notice. While I'm aware this all-hands meeting was abrupt, recent events in the past few days have made it essential. Tess and I genuinely appreciate your presence as we address these important matters," Sarah says with a bright smile, handing out materials. "Here's an updated Employee Handbook with a few edits. I thought it would be beneficial for us to go through it together. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"Yeah!" Tommy exclaims from the back of the room, his feet casually resting against the edge of the table. "How long until we get to the part of this meeting where we discuss just how much of a bad boy your Daddy was the other day?"

Tommy Look, I love my brother, I do. He's always so serious, so noble, providing for everyone and all that, making sure we have a roof over our heads. Shit, he's gotten me out of a lot of binds in my life- [He looks a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat, nodding.] ... anyway, it's a rare thing to see my brother slip up like that, you know? Didn't think he had it in him, honestly. It's been a few decades since I've seen his twig and berries, but shit, I know he's packing! He's a Miller, for fucks sake! [he puffs his chest out a little at that, chuckling to himself] But Sugar? She's been a fucking godsend! Never in my life have I seen my big ol brother act a fool, especially over a woman! What can I say? It's great to not be the fuck-up brother for once! I'm gonna milk out SlackGate til the end of time!

"Tommy," Joel warns through his teeth, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."

Sarah rolls her eyes in response as she fiddles with her laptop, the projector behind her illuminating with her PowerPoint presentation. "Like I was saying, this presentation is just going to go over the changes we have implemented in the last few days, including proper Slack etiquette and conduct. You would think that as grown adults, we would know better than sending inappropriate images and messages through company property and time," she clears her throat, glancing over at Joel, then to Tommy, who winks in her direction knowingly. "...including those who decide to engage and participate in unsanctioned secret channels-"

Frank's hand suddenly shoots up, his face awash in mock outrage. "I'll have you know, the watercooler channel serves a purpose, folks! When I caught wind of this 'secret channel' gossip circulating among the Nosy Nancies in the breakroom, I was appalled! Who would dare to stoop so low—"

"Frank, you invited me to the chat just this morning," Jesse remarks, casually holding up his phone as evidence. "It's titled 'Frank's-secret-slack-chat.' I thought it was some kind of exclusive club or something."

Frank Hi, [waves to you] is this on? Yeah? Hi. I'm Frank. Listen, Sarah was getting a little too vigilant about monitoring Slack ever since Tommy sent us a little treat last year [he laughs] so I had to do something about it, you know? [It pans out to Frank leaning against his desk chair, typing away on his secret Slack Chat.] The chat started as an open forum for discussion on the everyday going-ons of Miller Construction Group. Do we just so happen to discuss the private lives of our peers? Maybe. Do we mean any harm by it? [He gives you a wicked smile] Maybe.

"You guys, you know, the longer I keep getting interrupted, the longer we're all going to stay here in this conference room, and the longer we have to wait to eat Bill's food. You know how he is," She looks outside of the window, the smoke from Bill's grill swirls like a plume as he flips over a juicy steak. "He hates it when he has to serve his food cold. As I was saying, it should be obvious that we shouldn't be sending inappropriate images or photos to one another through Slack or e-mail."

"Hey! It was just one time, and it was an accident!" Tommy retorts, "Besides, it was hardly inappropriate, I was just only trying to show Maria this weird rash I got-"

"What does that mean, anyway?" Connie cuts in, casting a glance your way. "Inappropriate photos? And is there a difference between accidentally sending them or doing it on purpose?"

"Yeah," you shoot her a pointed look. "Sending nude photos to someone who doesn't want them is actually considered sexual harassment," you say, raising your voice a bit and turning in your seat. "I mean, you could get arrested for that, Connie," you add with a sing-song tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you glance at her. "You have nothing to worry about though, right?" you challenge, rolling your chair towards Joel, and taking his hand in his. "Not unless you did send naked photos to my boyfriend?"

Connie Look, I didn't know that Mr. Miller and Sugar were boning. I know how this looks- like I don't believe in girl code or something. I am a girls girl! If Sugar was just forthcoming about who gave her those damn hickeys before SlackGate happened, I wouldn't have sent her boyfriend nude photos of myself! A girl's gotta try, you know? I was only trying to shoot my shot! [She looks a bit uncomfortable, picking at a hangnail.] ... but you have to admit, Mr. Miller is H-O-T hot. God. I love me a graying man in flannel. I always thought to myself, there must be a story here. How does a millionaire who looks like that be single all this time? does he have anyone? is it a sugar baby? does he have a secret love child? I mean- [she looks over her shoulder where Joel is, arms around his chest as he winks at Sugar. There's a hint of jealousy in Connie's eyes.] Is it true, though? Is it really sexual harassment if I send unsolicited photos of myself? Do you think he's gonna press charges?

"It's true. Sending unsolicited photos of yourself to unsuspecting parties is sexual harassment, Connie. Not to mention creepy," Sarah winces, shooting you an apologetic smile. "So please don't be sending any photos of that nature to anyone that you work with, especially not in the admin group Slack."

"Yeah, Joel!" Tommy chides. "Keep that shlong in your pants, brother!"

Sarah You would think that working for my family is a cakewalk? Please. I've been diagnosed with IBS and GAD since I started working here five years ago. I sometimes take half an edible just to make it to lunchtime. [Her head rests on her desk, and as the events of SlackGate unfold, an endless barrage of messages from the admin Slack channel floods her monitor. She can't help but groan in response.] Listen. I love my Dad. I've never really had to worry about his behavior at work before, not like how I have to with Uncle Tommy... but what the hell was he thinking? I can't unsee that! What if Ellie was on that chat? Could you imagine the trauma? My trauma?

"Okay, let's turn to page 12, where we'll go over all the recent updates," Sarah announces, clicking through her PowerPoint. A collective gasp echoes in the room as the slide projects onto the screen, revealing an image – the image of Joel. However, where his exposed package would be, an eggplant emoji tastefully takes its place. It resembles one of those generic memes easily made with a phone app, complete with the semi-imposed words 'Keep Calm and Shlong On!' in big bold letters.

"Shit!" she exclaims, hurriedly pressing the ESC button as she tries to close out her PowerPoint. She slams her laptop shut, the tell-tell sound of a crack echoing throughout the conference room. You hear Tess silently scoff in the distance, and Sarah closes her eyes in embarrassment as the room falls silent.

... and then, all hell breaks loose.

Tommy is beside himself, his face red, and his eyes filled with tears as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his middle. "Shit, Henry! When I asked you to do this, I honestly didn't think you had the balls to go through with it, but I so owe you, my man!" he exclaims, enthusiastically high-fiving his nephew-in-law. "This is the best fucking day of my life!"

"Henry?!" Sarah exclaims, her face flushed with rage. "This is what you needed to do in the office at 6 am this morning?!"

Henry's expression crumbles as he witnesses his wife's ire, suddenly realizing that he's just dug himself into a deep hole. "Sarah," he stammers, attempting to regain composure. "This isn't what it looks like—"

Henry Yeah, Tommy asked me to put that meme into Sarah's PowerPoint last night. I would have done it at home, but Sarah doesn't like to bring her laptop home, you know, work-life balance? So I had to make an excuse to come to the office this morning. Was it a dumb ass idea? Yeah, probably. Did I kind of want to get back at Sarah's dad for making my life a living hell? [He looks at you awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.] Honestly, when you're like five beers in, drinking with Tommy- everything seems like a good idea. He dared me, you know? Said that I'm such a simp, trying to always please Joel. Called me a fucking pussy and everything! What else was I supposed to do? Sarah's going to kill me, huh? Do you think that she's gonna ask for a divorce?

"It's a meme. A meme of my Dad's dick pic with AN EGGPLANT EMOJI?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! WHAT DID YOU MEAN FOR IT TO LOOK LIKE?!" she screams, pulling at her hair. "AND YOU, TOMMY MILLER!" she points at her uncle furiously, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!"

"Baby," Henry replies, his hands raised in an attempt to calm her down. "It's just a harmless prank, look—"

"No, you look, Henry! Does it seem like it's just a harmless prank?" she gestures to the room, her eyes wide. "Don't even think about coming to bed tonight. I can't even look at you! How dare you collaborate with Tommy, do you really want to go this way? Because I see you fucking around, and you're about to find out-"

"Oh come on, Sarah! you know these all-hands meetings are dull as fuck, I don't even know why you even bother, no one ever listens anyway!" Tommy exclaims, looking around the room. "Isn't this fun you guys? Come on, lighten up! It's not like y'all haven't seen my dick before! Your Papi's gonna live another day, I think we should all feel as comfortable as we want, fuck the rules!"

"...but Joel's is much bigger than yours!" someone yells amid the chaos, laughter, and banter echoing through the room. Sarah looks around helplessly in a panic, trying to grasp the situation unfolding.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I ain't small!" Tommy yells in retaliation.

"Do you think that this is helping, Uncle Tommy? I'm beginning to believe that the only reason why people don't take me seriously is because of all of the shit that you pull!" Sarah groans, looking like she's at the end of her rope. "I could mention that Tess is helping me facilitate this meeting to scare everyone but she's just off to the side, pretending to not be drinking under the table!"

Tess [She is sitting off to the side, smiling to herself as the chaos ensues, shaking her head.] I am drinking, because who else thinks it's appropriate to call an all-hands meeting first thing in the morning? I don't even want to be here. It's so fucking pointless, trying to get these shitheads to conform to a set of rules. [She witnesses Joel storming up to Tommy, his face full of rage and irritation, finger pointed right at him.] This is the consequence of hiring friends and family, isn't it? I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but who's listening to me? I get it, everyone thinks I'm a bit of a bitch, and well... yeah, I am. Alright, time to rein this in— [She suddenly stands from her seat and walks over to Sarah, who appears to be disassociating into madness.]

"HEY!" Tess bellows, clapping her hands together. The room abruptly falls silent, Joel's hands frozen mid-grab on Tommy's flannel. Forty-eight pairs of eyes pivot towards Tess, a blend of shock and embarrassment spreading across their faces, reminiscent of children caught sneaking cookies from the jar by their mother. "Okay, that's enough!"

Her eyes are narrowed, hands on her hips. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop sending each other dick and tit pics through Slack, because as much as it is amusing," she smirks, winking at you, "I would really rather not have to deal with the fallout that comes with it," she shoots a pointed look at Connie, whose eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

"The next time someone tries to fuck around and find out? I'm going to take that dirty photo, print a thousand fucking copies of it and stick that shit all over the office. Every fucking inch, every fucking nook and cranny is just gonna be dick and tit central," she paces around the room, placing a warning hand on Frank's shoulder. "As for this secret Slack chat, I'm going to give you all one chance to come clean. If you don't, and Sugar's report doesn't match who outs themselves right now," She scans the room, a smirk on the corner of her mouth appearing in satisfaction. "Yeah, you didn't think that we were monitoring that shit, huh? Well, I'll throw you all a bone: raise your hands if you are in this secret group chat, and I'll consider not docking your pay for insubordination. Your choice."

Frank [Looking at Tess as she slightly stumbles from where she's standing.] Yeah, she's toast.

The majority of the room begins to raise their hands, except you, Tess, Joel, and surprisingly, Frank.

Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"

"I have no clue what you're trying to imply, and seriously Tess? Are you really going to play that card? Are you going to dock your pay too?" Frank retorts. "I mean, just last night, you were drunkenly telling me that you heard Joel and Sugar-"

"If you utter another word, I'll fire you on the spot, Frank!" Joel shouts from across the room. "I mean it this time!"

Joel and Sugar [Joel wraps his arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your forehead while gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ears.] There, that's better. Don't hide your face, Mami; you're too beautiful to be hiding all of that, okay? Right, [he clears his throat.] You would think that people would be a little more professional around here, show me a bit of respect— [His gaze shifts to Tommy, who's engaged in laughter and banter with the team, his chest puffed out in triumph. Joel glares at him, shaking his head.] I'd like to think I try really hard to be a good boss. I pay fairly, I allow remote work, and damn it, I take pride in offering the best employee benefits in all of Austin. We even take a company trip to Hawaii every year, for fucks sake! [You squeeze his hand, pressing a kiss to his temple as he takes a frustrated breath.] Papi, if it means anything, I think you're the best boss any of these folks could ever ask for. They don't deserve you. [Joel nods.] Look, I don't know what to tell you. I got the ride of my life that morning, my sweet Mami riding my cock just right, you know? I would have been okay, going into my meeting with blue balls, just as long as Sugar got hers. Your pleasure is my pleasure... but I was just so fucking horny! I started to work out, yeah? Wanted to keep shit tight for my baby, and fuck, I was... what do they young kids say? Feeling yourself? [Joel nods again, smiling at you.] Yeah, 'feeling myself' or whatever. Anyway, I was in the meeting, and you messaged me, right? saying that you weren't going to be in for lunch? and I don't know if was the disappointment, or if I was just too horny, but fuck. I quickly excused myself and took a quick dick pic in my bathroom. I thought I was in the right Slack channel... so I sent it, and then the guys at The H Group asked me a whole bunch of questions, and then an hour later- Chaos. The messages kept flooding in! Frank was asking about how long I was, and Connie was sending me nude photos of herself- in my fucking office! Wait, what? [Your gaze meets Connie's, nervously seated as Frank goes on and on beside her. Her hands twitch like a possum that just got run over by an 18-wheeler. Yeah. Squirm for me, you think to yourself.] Yeah! And I just sat there, in shock, you know? Like this is the kind of shit that Tommy pulls, and I couldn't believe that I was so fucking stupid! Can you imagine the kind of therapy Sarah's gonna need? What if Ellie saw this?

"Who's up for some snacks?" Tommy calls out to the team, holding a basket filled with rather sizable cucumbers, bananas, and eggplants. "Help yourselves, compliments of Joel!"

Ellie [at the job site across town, hard hat fixed crookedly on top of her head.] Yeah, I saw it. There is not enough bleach in this world that could ever erase that image from my existence. [she glares at Sam, who just shrugs.] Thanks a lot, asshole!

"Alright, you degenerates!" Bill booms, bursting through the conference doors wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, tongs in one hand, and a tray piled high with thickly cut steaks in the other. "This steak isn't going to eat itself!"

The team swarms Bill like seagulls spotting a tasty piece of bread on the boardwalk. Tommy grabs a t-bone with his bare hands, biting into it with the enthusiasm of a caveman.

"Hey," Joel whispers to you, his shoulder gently bumping yours. "Want to help me with something?" You nod eagerly as Joel swiftly guides you out of the conference room, heading towards the executive offices. You giggle as Joel ushers you into the room, pulling you into a kiss, his foot playfully kicking the door shut.

He moves the both of you over to where Tommy's desk is, pushing aside its contents off the tabletop in one fell swoop, the items clattering onto the floor. "Papi, what are you doing?" you ask cheekily as he bends you over the desk, lifting your skirt.

Joel growls and shoves you down onto the desk, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. Your arms scramble to find purchase as you knock over a framed photo of Tommy and Maria, watching helplessly as the image of their smiling faces falls onto the floor. His palm travels across your back, pinning you in place as he fiddles with his zipper with his other hand. "Line item 6," Joel murmurs as his hands begin to travel across the globes of your ass, squeezing and spreading and slapping them until you're so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs.

Joel hums in appreciation. "Thats right Mami, get nice and wet for me, okay?" You can feel him pump his cock against you, notching his head at your entrance. "You gonna make a nice mess for me, baby?" he asks through gritted teeth as he strokes through your folds with his dick.

"Yesss," you moan, pushing your ass back toward him.

Joel pushes into you to the hilt in one brutal thrust as you cry out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as he begins to pound into you in earnest, his thrusts so hard and punishing that the desk begins to rattle. You squeeze your eyes shut as Joel gathers your hair in his hand, pulling you back towards him. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna come so fucking hard, fill this pussy up and watch as it drips out of you, maybe fuck you again if we still have time-"

You gasp, taking a deep breath as his thrusts become so erratic it pushes you up the desk, lifting one leg onto the surface as Joel angles himself higher, hitting a spot so deep within you that you bite your lip from crying out, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. You squeeze around his cock as you chase your high, hoping that Joel can maintain his composure long enough so you both can finish together. "No Mami, stay with me, come with me-"

He leans over you, pressing you onto the desk as he grabs onto your shoulders, pounding into you, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face into it, huffing from exertion. "I'm so close Mami, I'm gonna... Fuck!" He bites your shoulder as he cums in one last brutal stroke, his hands harshly grasping your thighs as you feel his hot spend flow deep into your belly. You rock your hips onto him as his hand goes to your clit, rubbing until you are weak in the knees, your body trembling beneath his. "Fuck Joel," you say a little breathless as you slump onto the table as Joel pulls out of you, his finger probing into you as he pushes his leaking cum back where it belongs. "Come on, lets clean this up and head back before they notice-"

Joel just snorts as he zips up his jeans. "No," he replies nonchalantly as he catches his breath.

"No?" you ask as you straighten yourself up, frowning at him.

"Line item six says I bend you over his desk and leave a little souvenir," he motions to the mess on the floor, pens and papers scattered about.

"He's going to fucking murder you, Joel," you chuckle, pulling him into a kiss.

"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't have fucked around, because he's about to find out." He simply replies, taking your hand in his. "Come on, little Mami, quickly now, before he realizes we're gone..."

You share a laugh as he guides you back into the conference room. Bill raises an eyebrow at both of you, handing over a plate with steaming steak, as if he just finished cooking it. "I thought I'd save your lunches for last, figured you guys needed some extra time," he says, clearing his throat and nodding towards Tommy, who seems entirely oblivious to your brief disappearance. "You know Tommy, can't resist a good piece of steak," Bill continues, gesturing at Joel. "It's like everything around him disappears for a moment; you could rob him blind, and he wouldn't even notice," he adds with a small smile, placing a hand on Joel's shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "Enjoy your lunch, you two."

Bill Look, I wouldn't call myself a nosy person, but I am perceptive. [He glances at Frank whispering and giggling to Connie off to the side, rolling his eyes.] Look at them. They think that they're the eyes and ears of this operation, but what they don't know, is that I. Know. Everything. I am a survivalist. I gather intel on all of my surroundings, even if I am surrounded by absolute morons. [Bill takes another sip of coffee, subtly glancing around him before making eye contact with you, the reader, once more] So if you want to know the real scoop, the real ins-and-outs of this company, and not have to deal with the lunatics in Frank's not-so-secret shit talk club, come to me, I'll set you on the right path. At least I have snacks. [He looks off to you and Joel, giving a curt nod as he starts to cut into his own steak.] As much as I respect Tommy, he's not the one signing my checks at the end of the day. If there's anything that I value more than anything, it's loyalty. I don't like to play around, hate it when people bite the hands that feed them. People like that need to be taught a lesson. Joel's a good man, and sometimes, we fuck up... but it's how we handle ourselves after the fact that matters. If that means I help out an old friend, well- [he smiles as Tommy walks towards the conference room doors, heading back to his office. Bill smiles out into the distance.]

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @gwendibleywrites @brittmb115 @joeldjarin @drewharrisonwriter

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@bbiophiliaa @thewiigers (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

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deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months

Text

— SWEET KANSAS HONEY

SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx

“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.

“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously.

“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use.

She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look.

“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.

“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.

“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back.

“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.

“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink.

“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”

“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention.

“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it.

“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.

“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages.

dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((

She laughed softly.

dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me.

Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working.

dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.

She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message.

dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy.

She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face.

me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out.

me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute.

me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X

She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more.

She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.

Dean was in the shower.

Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

dean : I fig read what you seny

She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice.

“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.

“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock.

“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up.

“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal.

“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned.

“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly.

She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster.

“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.

He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself.

“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”

Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.

“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel.

“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.

“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated.

“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.

“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors.

“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up.

“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled.

“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.

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nevadancitizen · 4 months

Note

do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale.

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who.

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth.

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says.

“I know,” you say.

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.”

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature).

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says.

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s.

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…”

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that.

-> KöNIG:

König nearly always hates going undercover.

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not.

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles.

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear.

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen.

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are.

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says.

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor.

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony.

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless.

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath.

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light.

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

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wing-ed-thing · 10 months

Text

Konoha 12 Domestic/Spousal Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Boruto Doesn't Exist, No Mentions of Children/Adoption

Completed versions of these headcanons will be linked on the character's name.

𓆃 Choji

THE BEST COOK ON THIS LIST NO ONE CAN COMPARE

Loves bonding over cooking and baking— whatever you like! If there's anything you're ever craving, Choji is taking to the kitchen to make you a gourmet meal as good as any professional chef!

Prime rib, lamb, tartare, croissants, macarons, soups! It doesn't matter your allergies or preferences, Choji can and will make you any food your heart desires.

Offers excellent cuddles. 11/10 squishy and soft.

Is very understanding, a fantastic listener, and naturally positive.

Never lets the romance l die, and after a hard day at work, will feed you ice cream while you rant about your day.

𓆃 Hinata

Traditional wife who has always wanted to be a traditional wife since she was a kid.

Content with cooking, doing laundry, and other domestic work.

Although, because of the society and the way she was brought up, she might feel insecure transitioning out of shinobi life.

While being made to feel weak isn't something Hinata is a stranger to, she is sensitive to comments from others about her domestic life.

Be sure to give her lot of reassurance and validate her work around the house.

𓆃 Ino

Also wanted to be a wife growing up, but the stay-at-home life is clearly not for her.

She'll try it for a period of time after your wedding or union, but she's far too restless for cooking and cleaning.

You supposed that she thought it would be relaxing and aesthetic, but if anything, she's getting frustrated and throwing the potato across the kitchen as soon as it slips out of her hand.

Ino will eventually find important work to do, come home to complain about it over dinner, and buy you something nice in a half-brag about how much more money she's making.

This is, of course, not to say she's bad at housework or doesn't do her share. She's perfectly good at domestic work and does the bulk of it, but the moment you expect it from her is the moment she stops.

𓆃 Kiba

A slob who, if allowed, will live in heaps of trash.

For the bulk of his 20s, he'll be super unsure of the whole settling down thing. You could make a whole bingo chart out of the cliche bachelor lines he spouts.

I'm not really a marriage kinda guy. I don't wanna tie myself down to a ball and chain. I just wanna meet people. I'm looking for someone who doesn't take themselves too seriously. Nah, I'm not looking for a relationship.

That is... until one day he wakes up and desperately wants a family of his own. To an extreme extent. Like his expectations are absolutely insane.

As a husband, you'll need to reevaluate those and have a nice long chat because at the beginning of your relationship he will certainly not be pulling his weight.

𓆃 Lee

Sweet, clingy, loving and sincere man.

Ah, you are the sun, the moon, and the world to Lee. He is constantly thinking of or doing the sweetest possible thing he possibly could for you at any given hour of the day.

Is his execution great? You'd give it a 50/50. Does he ever take a break? NO.

Whether it's breakfast in bed or going on a grocery run to get it off your plate, you're sure to have to put out one fire and learn how to use 20 carrots in your meal prep for the week.

He really tries his best, he just gets a little excited.

𓆃 Naruto

Another slob, although well intended.

Naruto never had a formal family growing up, and so he has little ideas of what's expected.

Much of his idea of what a partnership should be comes from media or stupid things that Shikamaru probably told him on the playground growing up, so you'll have to work together as a team to set expectations.

A lot of what he does for you is in his language (you have to learn that him making you both ramen cups is indeed a romantic gesture for him), but he loves exploring things that you like!

Naruto explores your likes and hobbies in a very genuine and non-performative way. Sharing things you enjoy together will be the foundation of your relationship.

𓆃 Neji

You'll spend your first year of marriage focused heavily on strict boundaries, expectations, and other couples work.

The way Neji was brought up completely fractured his sense of family. Not to mention, no matter what you're like Neji will certainly have to fight with his family in a silent battle over clan politics.

Because even though the Hyuga clan has stopped certain practices, doesn't mean that everyone in the clan is in mutual agreement or share similar attitudes with each other.

This will be a marriage built on structure and meaningful confrontation. Neji is determined to break the cycles of his family to make a healthy life with you.

𓆃 Sakura

Wasn't sure if she'd end up with a partner. She really wanted it, but with everything that happened in her life, she had her doubts.

Most definitely too hard on herself. Sakura pushes herself to almost fall over you to ensure you're pleased. Whether it's housework or cooking, there's a part of her that feels the need to prove her work ethic.

It's the small things with Sakura. Even after a long day at work, she'll still bring you your favorite home for dinner, even if the place is out of the way. She'll stay up an hour later to spend time with you even if she has an early morning.

𓆃 Sasuke

An ironic mix between Naruto and Sakura.

As a kid, Sasuke 100% wanted to be a husband when he grew up. 100% wanted to have a spouse to provide for and had similar dreams that some kids often do when they think about families.

But after the Uchiha Tragedy, much of Sasuke's outlook about his future has been skewed. Any relationship will start off as rather unstable and you can almost count on Sasuke being emotionally distant

It's about how the two of you work through his baggage and his willingness to be vulnerable.

𓆃 Shikamaru

Surprisingly well-adjusted?

He knows how to do basic life skills. Pulls his weight and sometimes even does your tasks. Shikamaru is generally clean and organized.

Where's the problem? He's terrified of commitment.

Most of the relationships in the Nara clan seem to consist of passive Nara men with verbose spouses who have no issue bossing their partners around.

But at the same time, Shikamaru doesn't mind this dynamic. He wants to laze, but he's also almost seemingly afraid of dynamics that allow him to laze.

He'll be just fine around the house, just a bit dramatic if you ever ask him to do anything. He'll get over it.

𓆃 Shino

Great husband and great family to marry into.

Just overall very balanced, if not quiet. The Aburame clan is close, but respectful of each other. You'll never have to deal with nagging in-laws because Shibi has already taken you in as one of his own.

Enjoy fresh meals of produce expertly tended to from the garden.

While Shino has his more talkative side when it comes to people he's close to, he's still quiet by nature. Don't expect that to change just because you've gotten married.

The obvious con is the massive amount of insects that will constantly be around you. You're not allowed to trap them or kill them.

You will have to get used to bugs crawling on you.

𓆃 Tenten

You're always doing something crazy.

You don't think any of the other Konoha 12 ever expected that Tenten would have the most exciting marriage, but look at her now.

You're always innovating, making new things for her business, and taking spontaneous trips to check out crafting techniques.

Anything and everything you set your mind to, you support each other in. There are ten million projects scattered around your home.

You roll up to get-togethers (when they seldom happen), being the most traveled and bringing the most unique gifts.

No one knows what you're going to be up to next.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I apparently had a lot more opinions on all of these characters than I expected. When I make multi-character posts, I like to keep each section sort of short, so if you are interested in more in-depth hcs, tap the underlined name or visit my blog for more.

Sakura, Lee, Choji, Tenten and Sasuke are done at the current moment.

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minoment · 1 year

Note

Hello there, may I request some cod characters being harassed in a bar or whatever and having a tall, intimidating reader step in to defend them?

(Preferably with Krueger, König or Price?)

Imma give you all three because I can't choose.. ALSO THANK YOU FOR ASKING FOR KRUEGER

Warnings/Tags: purely sfw, can be platonic or romantic, gn reader, reader is MASSIVE (around 7ft), implied harrasment, implied violence

this is sloppy and poorly edited because i'm exhausted 😭

KREUGER

You'd probably only have to step in because of Krueger's violent tendencies. If it wasn't for you, you guys would probably be in a VERY different situation.

Krueger leant against the bar, sipping his drink while this clearly drunk man yammered on in his ear. He decided to ignore him, since he was exhausted, but the constant talking was making that familiar heat coil in his gut. His patience was slipping.

The man reached out and grasped Krueger's thigh to get his attention, almost making the soldier drop his drink. His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched as he put down his drink and opened his mouth to snarl something rude.

Just then, he felt a large presence behind him and a heavy hand on his shoulder. He relaxed against the familiarity of your towering form.

"Get lost.." you said, almost quietly. But the man looked up, his eyes widening at your hulking body and cold gaze. He was gone in an instant.

Krueger leant back against your chest, placing his hand over yours as the rage faded from his stomach. You were his rock, and he was forever grateful for that. Words weren't needed to express that, so you both stood there in silence and finished your drinks.

KÖNIG

Helping him out in uncomfortable social situations is probably the thing he loves the most. His anxiety gets too much sometimes...

König sits in the corner of the bar, trying to keep his head down and trying to seem a little shorter while he finished his drink. Somehow, that makes him seem even taller. A group of men walk up to his table, looking him up and down.

"Aye, how tall are you big boy?"

"Fuckin' hell you're massive.."

"I bet women drool over you.."

The comments make him scowl to himself, so he just looked down into the foamy top of his beer, wishing they would just disappear.

"What's the problem huh?"

"Can't take a joke?"

Their jeering continued, making the familiar feeling of his throat tightening begin to well up. He tried to slow his breath and swallow, attempting to ignore the men. The room seemed too small and too loud. All until a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"HEY."

König looked up in hope; the men spinning around and only being met with the muscled bulk of your chest.

"The hells going on?" You snapped, making the men glance around to each other and shake their heads. They muttered excuses and quickly left the bar, leaving you with König.

You slid into the seat next to König, ruffling his hair and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I've got you Colonel.. Do you want to leave?"

König was practically buzzing with gratitude and relief, all he could do was hug you tight. You laughed softly, hugging him back.

PRICE

Price seems to be able to handle himself incredibly well in situations like these. Everyone needs a helping hand once in a while, and you are always glad to be that one for him.

Price goes to bars a lot, but on this particular occasion he just wanted to clear his head. He sat down with his beer, closing his eyes and taking a long sip. He swallowed and rested his head in his hand, just thinking to himself.

All of a sudden he feels a hand slide down his back and he sits up straight, his nerves on edge. The gentle laugh of a woman is heard behind him and he frowns, not in the mood.

"Can I help take your mind of something, sweetheart?" she purrs.

"Yeah, you're looking a little off mate.." another one adds.

To his horror, there was more than one. Great. This is what he got for going to a bar while on duty.

"Move your asses." A cross, familiar voice yells. Price could almost see the hulking shadow of your form moving across the bar. "He's with me."

Price's shoulders relax at the tone of your voice, the group of younger men and women swiftly leaving the bar at the sight of you. You laughed softly, leaning your head down onto his shoulder.

"This doesn't look like the training grounds Captain.." you teased gently, rubbing his arm. "Don't worry, just say you caught me here. I'm willing to do extra duties for you sir.."

Price couldn't stop the warm smile spreading across his lips.

"Thanks kid.."

#call of duty #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #modern warefare 2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #task force 141 #krueger x reader #krueger cod #könig x reader #könig cod #captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #john price #john price cod

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2smolbeans · 4 months

Text

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2.5

About Marco In Love Me, Love Me Not! (Character info)

Yandere Bestfriend x Obstacle Reader

*Unedited

Disclaimer: I made changes to this since I changed a lot in the story while on my break, so things are a bit different.

........

So this is kind of a quick detour or filler chapter to discuss our main yandere (Marco!).

Something I want to make clear about Love Me, Love Me Not is that the story is an AU of an already existing yandere story for Marco's side!

In Marco's original timeline, he's the COO of a successful makeup branch . In Love Me Love Me Not!: Marco never met the CEO (his half brother) of Beauty Point - instead continued to pursue his career in the police force.

(Basically, he never became that rich delusional man who was impulsive, irrational, and delusional - instead a corrupt cop who was more calculative, nonchalant, and saw people as little sheeps who doted on him. Think of it to a 'I NEED THEM' to 'THEY NEED ME' personality switch.)

In this timeline, Marco met you in college after bumping into one of your friends during student orientation day. He couldn't care about what you had to say, but regardless, he feigned interest as he listened to you ramble about something he forgot about.

Leaning close to you, nodding, letting out cheerful. "Uh-huh- ohhhh, I see. Thanks! Man, same here! Y'know, that reminds me of the time-" basic NPC type of small talks.

But once he got a good look at your group, one from all had caught his interest.

Matheias, Angela, You, and Mila.

She hadn't spoke, she didn't even have to try- but she grabbed his attention. With her arms folded and a curious look on her face as she tagged along, not saying a word- it was love at first sight.

Soon enough, he found purpose with staying in that little group.

Though when she started to dwindle away from your friend group, Marco had felt obligated to stick with the rest. I mean, sure, he didn't care too much, but that didn't mean he didn't love you guys. So he made memories with you and found himself genuinely being invested with each and one of everyone's personalities.

For some reason, he noticed that you often sticked around him like a lost puppy. (Which is hilarious to me because Marco, in his og universe, was more of a golden retriever eagerly following around anyone who gave him attention, but oh how the tables turn)

He found it cute, so of course he paid more attention to you from the rest of the litter of nobodies. You could say that you were his favorite from the rest - but of course you could never take her place.

The two of you became close, the sleeping overnight - type of close.

There were some moments where you would catch him off guard, making him blush, flinch, or chuckle whenever you were yourself around him. He would never love you the way he loved her, but by god, would he go through hell to give you what you wanted. After all, he knew you would do the same.

Huh, I guess that's what best friends were for..

Though as things were going smoothly, Marco would notice how Angela became a bit annoying to him with each day. He never had a problem with her before, but the way she would swoon over Mila made him go cold.

He wasn't the type to overreact. He knew he wasn't the type to get upset so easily. It was once, he swears!

But one thing led to the next, and Angela had died to an unfortunate allergic reaction. Of course, Marco had slipped some peanuts into a snack he gave her, and no one suspected a thing. I mean, something like that must've been an unfortunate accident on her end. She ate something that had peanuts, she was alone at the park, and she didn't have her Epi-pen! It was a tragic accident.

Matheias had his suspicions that Marco had done something.. There was no evidence or reason to think this, but he had a gut feeling.

Fast forward, and you and Marco were the only remaining people in that friendgroup. After graduation, Marco and you were still on talking terms, Matheias had completely cut you off after Angela's funeral, and Mila was still talking with Marco - but not with you anymore.

More time passes, and on that very night, Marco calls you crying on the phone, begging you to meet him somewhere. Of course, worried, you rush over there only to see him smiling with a body bag over his shoulder.

Forced to comply as you knew you would be the next body bag for him to drag if you said no.

Why, though? Why specifically did he call you on that night if he knew he didn't want any witnesses?

That's something that would probably be revealed with time..Or not if he decides to end your life the very next day.

It was only once you thought. But soon enough, you found yourself complying with more of Marco's requests.

And of course, once you showed hesitance and stood your ground, Marco took that as a threat and made you into one of his own victims.

Come the present day, there were you trapped in his apartment, not knowing if he wanted you dead, or if he had other plans...

The thing that hurt the most for you was the fact that even when you knew he had feelings for someone else, you still liked him. Even now, you still have a bit of a crush on him...Talk about a painful rejection..

But that's the basis of this AU!

If you have any more questions about Marco in his 'Love Me, Love Me Not' Au, feel free to ask!

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere ceo #yandere bestfriend #yandere best friend #yandere male #Marco Sangwook #Sangwook

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 25 days

Text

Winter's King 18

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp.

“You well, mouse?” He growls.

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king.

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.”

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do.

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.”

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them.

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles.

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse.

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.”

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck.

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.”

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?”

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...”

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.”

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.”

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?”

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man.

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.”

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?”

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.”

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.”

“And what about you?” You murmur.

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.”

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that.

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before.

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.”

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn.

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.”

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.”

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?”

“It is... my duty.”

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have.

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.”

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known.

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...”

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak.

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other.

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.”

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle.

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders.

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.”

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you.

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?”

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass.

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue.

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head.

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.”

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.”

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party.

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it.

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top.

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.”

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise.

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains.

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses.

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.”

You gulp and gape at the large beast.

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.”

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined.

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth.

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on.

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through.

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns.

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.”

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back.

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door.

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him.

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly.

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand.

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you.

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.”

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort.

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?”

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice.

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?”

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you.

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

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ametrictonofaudacity · 4 months

Note

Okay so consider!!!

Yandere platonic Geralt!! Generally very cool!! Very nice!! But if you fuck up you have to deal with (what you have dubbed) the get along cuff. Which is literally him just making you sleep next to him and tying your leg to his with a bit of leather cord. It’s thin so he can easily snap it if there’s a danger, but he’ll wake up if you move it.

Also Jaskier being completely fine and okay with this would be hilarious, I would love to see you write a scenerio!! (Idk why but I picture a modern reader, like one who got dropped in the Witcher from the modern world)

I love this ask!! I also love the trope of a modern character in a medieval setting, I think it was all the ‘Modern Girl IN Middle Earth’ fanfics I read (an actual tag on ao3) so I have a weakness for it!! Also Jaskier just going ‘eh’ is so funny to me.

Warnings: forced proximity, captivity, kidnapping, some level of being infantalized, being tied to another person as a form of being restrained, future Stockholm syndrome. Jaskier is complicit, up to you whether he is also a yandere or not. Also the fact Geralt can smell emotions

“You know this could be like, an actual danger?”

You try and reason your way out of your situation, like reason has ever worked on Geralt before. He ignores you, mostly, concentrating on tying the knot around your wrist in a manner that you cannot undo the knot but it also didn’t cut off your circulation. He slips a finger under the cord, testing the knot and the cords strength, and you hear him make a satisfied rumble. You were still getting used to that, to the various sounds the Witcher made to express emotion.

“No it’s not. The cord’s thin, and if I have to fight I can snap it easily. Plus this area doesn’t normally have monsters, not this time of year.”

He stands, towering over you from you spot on the ground, near the fire, and you tilt your face up. The yellow light throws his features into a harsh countenance, makes his face all angles and scars, golden eyes reflecting the light the way a predators would as he glared down at you, scowling. You tighten your fingers in the wool cloak he had given you, so long ago, the fibers catching in your nails.

He must see something in your gaze, or maybe it’s the way you know you probably reek of anxiety right now, but his stance softens, the scowl melting away into something softer, not a smile because you knew he was still very, very upset with you, but not a harsh frown that made you feel small and stupid and like all the things he thought about you were true.

He crouches, making himself smaller next to you, and you feel your shoulders start to unwind. It was strange, being around someone who was so perceptive to your emotions, but seemingly had no clue how to address or handle them, beyond his own instincts as a Witcher and his limited interpersonal skills. His very limited interpersonal skills.

Seriously. You were pretty sure the guy only had two friends.

“You’re going to try and run again. Maybe not tonight, but I clearly can’t trust you to behave without me keeping my eye on you at all times. Since I can’t do that while I’m asleep, this is the solution.”

He motions to the thin leather cord, and you scowl, face twisting into something you know is ugly but doing it anyways. He wouldn’t be intimidated, you knew, he seemed to view you as some helpless kid, even though you were a fully grown adult who had been attending college.

“You wouldn’t have to watch me if you just let me go, Geralt. You can’t… you can’t just not let someone go home, that’s not right.”

You snap, fingers burying further into the cloak to stave off the chill that was only getting colder, creeping up your arms and legs to your torso and making you shiver. It had just gotten dark, the little fire Geralt built crackling away and too small to provide much warmth but rapidly gaining strength, and you shiver, leaning toward the fire and away from the Witcher.

“We’re not having this conversation again. You can’t survive out there on your own.”

Your face flushes, angry, and you bury your face further into the cloak. He had a point, to some extent. You weren’t used to the world of the Witcher, with its monsters and it’s hardships, weren’t used to the roughness of medieval life and all of its struggles. You were used to the modern world, where distances could be travelled by car, not horse, and you didn’t have to endure biting cold in the winter and blazing heat in the summer.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, Geralt. What kinda person would I be if I didn’t at least try to get home?” You protest, and there’s the sound of rustling, a muttered curse. Looks like Jaskier was back with wood.

“Ah. Seems I walked into a horribly tense situation.”

Jaskier remarks, but his voice is light, not taking your predicament seriously, even as his eyes land on the tether around your wrist and Geralt’s as he feeds wood into the fire, which licks up the logs and sticks eagerly, hungry for fuel. You scowl, face buried in the cloak to hide your sour mood as much as possible. Geralt didn’t care if you were pisses off or not, he cared when you were afraid not when you were mad, but Jaskier would do everything in his power to pull you out of your bad mood. From telling stories to playing little tavern songs, he would be relentless in making sure you cracked a smile at least once, and you didn’t feel like having to endure the bards attempts to cheer you up right now.

“Is tying them to you really necessary though, Geralt? They look like a kicked pup, can’t you be a bit more lenient?”

Jaskier wheedles, and wow, he might actually be your favorite person right now. You peek up from the fold of the cloak, and he’s got a hand on a hip, shifting his weight with a concerned frown. He looks entirely disapproving of the whole thing, which makes your heart soar. Maybe he would actually be able to get Geralt to listen to him.

“They’re lucky I don’t tie them on Roach all day.” Geralt grumbles, setting up the bed rolls. You could feel every small movement he made, the motion tugging gently on the thin tether.

“Oh you grump. Stop being so rude.” Jaskier huffs, sitting next to you, and you quietly despair how easily he gave in, how quickly he yielded to what Geralt wanted to do. You tuck your face back into the cloak, dejected.

“Hey now, it isn’t all bad. There are worse places to sleep. I can recall a few of them myself.”

Jaskier’s hand lands on your shoulder, and you glare, annoyed. You didn’t want company, or comfort, or any of it. You wanted one thing, and it was something that the both of them were denying you.

Jaskier, because he was Jaskier, seemingly didn’t notice. Which wasn’t the greatest.

“Yeah, sure, I guess. Never slept tied to somebody, though.” You say pointedly, and the annoyed rumble Geralt gives is almost worth it. Sharp gold eyes narrow at you slightly, before Geralt huffs, turning back to his task.

“I have! Well, it was more I had been knocked unconscious, but it still applies, I think! And those ropes were rather coarse, my wrists were aching for days!” Jaskier recalls. “Geralt had to rescue me, it was quite the adventure. I wrote a song about it, at some point, although I never published it. I really should rework that song, actually, come to think of it.”

He rambles, his voice filling the tense silence between you and Geralt, and you feel your shoulders start to relax. He was good at that, chattering to fill the silence that would drag on for hours between the two of you if it wasn’t for him. You sigh quietly, leaning into the warm hand clasped on your shoulders as the fire grows in strength, the bedrolls almost fully prepared.

“Alright. Jaskier, you take first watch, and I’ll take over in an hour or so.” There must not be many monsters around, you think, for Geralt to be so comfortable letting Jaskier take watch. Jaskier nods, slipping away your side as Geralt approaches.

“Not a problem! I was feeling wired tonight anyways, a few more hours though and I should be able to sleep well enough.” Jaskier agrees amicably. “Although I am a bit surprised, you normally insist on first watch.”

“Wanna get (Y/N) down.” Geralt huffs, and Jaskier nods.

“Fair enough, I suppose. They are criminally lacking in the sleep department, they’re beginning to get bags, poor thing.”

You scowl at Jaskier, annoyed.

“I’ve had these since middle school, first of all, not my fault I have insomnia.” You scowl, and jerk when Geralt all but drags you to the bed roll, barely waiting for you to finish talking.

“Hey!” You protests, annoyed, but he’s too busy ‘getting you settled’ as he liked to call it. Fussing over the blankets and the best roll, making sure your body was protected from the harsh winds that even the fire couldn’t stave off.

“Jaskier, stop keeping them up.” Geralt grumbles, sounding more tired than annoyed. He drags you closer, and it must be a Witcher thing to radiate heat like a furnace, because he was chasing off the cold without even trying, the same arm that you were tied to securing you against his chest.

“Pretty sure I can sleep on my own.”

You snark, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

“Not for the next week you aren’t, if that. Now go to bed.”

You scowl, glaring up at him. With the blanket over you, the fire, and the heat radiating off his body, you were tired, sure. But not tired enough not to say something, not when you were being treated like an idiot who couldn’t do anything for themselves.

“You can’t just- Geralt this isn’t right, and you know it. You can’t just- keep me here!”

You protest. Arguing with Geralt was much like arguing with a wall, honestly. Stubborn and just as likely to listen to you as the bricks that made up the walls of your old college.

But walls could come down. You just had to get through to him, make him realize that what was doing wasn’t going to work. You weren’t strong enough or fast enough to escape him, not without some clever plan or tricks up your sleeve, and you were pretty sure that an Olympic level athlete would still have issues trying to outpace him. So your only hope was getting him to listen.

It was a fragile hope, but it was the only hope you had.

“We’re not talking about this right now. Go to sleep.”

Geralt grumbles, and you open your mouth again. The warning rumble in his chest cuts you off, and you swallow.

The sound was exactly that. A warning. Geralt had never hurt you before, not really, but whenever he got mad things were miserable. Jaskier would be irritated with you for ‘putting Geralt in a mood’ as he put it, and you would be without the bard’s chattering to fill the heavy silent between you and Geralt. Not to mention the awkwardness of being forced to ride atop Roach with Geralt, the silence thick with tension between the two of you, or the way you would hope desperately for the day to end so you could go to sleep.

No, it was better to keep the Witcher happy. For all parties.

“Alright. Good night.” You finally mutter, and he sighs, the tension leaving his body. You feel his torso loosen, relaxing behind you, and you feel your hand shaking, just slightly. Or a little more than slightly. Your stomach twists, and Geralt sighs.

“I know you don’t understand. But you’ll realize this is what’s best for you.” He says it like it’s supposed to be an assurance, smoothing a hand over your hair like you’re a particularly fussy child, and you consider, for a second, twisting and biting that hand. Driving your teeth deep enough to draw blood and make him listen to you, for once.

You don’t, mainly because you know he would just move it fast enough your teeth would just snap at empty air.

You close your eyes. With the almost stifling heat behind you, and the too-heavy weight of the cord on your wrist that logically shouldn’t feel as heavy as it did, sleep does not come easy. Eventually, though, you feel your consciousness slip away into oblivion.

#yandere platonic Geralt of Rivia #yandere witcher #yandere platonic Geralt #platonic yandere x reader

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mills-73 · 10 months

Text

Eyes on Fire

Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt

tags: blowjobs

18+ All Characters are aged up

first fanfic, little nervous. hopefully there will be more from me :) enjoy

The undercroft has always been a special place. Filled with fun memories, silly duels, and loud laughs bouncing against stone walls, Sebastian and Ominis hold it dear to their hearts.

It’s always been clear between the two that this place was their escape from the world around. A place where they can coexist within the realm of magic while also feeling an essence of normalcy that’s shared between two best friends.

For as long as Sebastian can remember, Ominis has been one of the more consistent things in his life. He’s never left Sebastian alone or betrayed him for another, taught him spells and curses that wouldn’t get the both of them in trouble, and offered a shoulder to cry on whenever things got hard with his sister Anne.

So it’s only likely Sebastian could get wholefully infatuated with the others' caring persona.

Tonight, Sebastian’s spending his night doing homework for Professor Sharp's class, and he’s having a particularly hard time brewing drought of the living dead.

He honestly doesn’t know where he’s going wrong. “Sixths times a charm,” he lies to himself, adding in the last ingredient.

As expected, it blows up in his face.

An exasperated groan slips out from the back of his throat, tossing his wand to the side as he slumps down to the floor. He burrows his face into his hands, feeling absolutely helpless and frustrated with his inability to brew a potion. Given it is an advanced potion, but one vial is due in the morning.

“Sebastian?” An all too familiar voice rivets through the room, making him jump.

“Ominis!” Sebastian exclaims, perhaps a bit too excitedly. “Where did you come from?” He smiles softly from the way the other feels his way around with his wand, walking straight to him.

“The door, you nimwit.”

Oh. Yeah, of course he did.

“What are you doing?” Ominis asks, a curious expression dawning over pale features.

Sebastian sighs. “Trying and failing to do potions homework. Starting to think I’ll need to buy liquid luck to be able to brew the damn thing.”

Ominis laughs. Sebastian watches as he sits down next to him, admiring the strand of hair—that never seems to stay in place—fall into his eyes. He reaches out to tuck it behind his ears, though knowing it wouldn’t stay; it was just a poor excuse to touch Ominis without it being suspicious.

“You know I can help you, right? I could probably get it right for you.”

“I know,” Sebastian sighs. “But I wouldn’t be actually learning anything if you did. That’s why it’s called homework.”

“Since when do you care about homework?” Ominis asks.

“Since I’m failing half of my classes.”

Ominis gasps. “You’re what?! Sebastian, please tell me you’re only joking.”

Sebastian stays quiet, a sheepish expression falling over his face as his hand scratches the back of his head. Ominis stands up quickly, reaching out to Sebastian to pull him up on his feet.

“Come on,” Ominis says, “I’ll tell you what to do and you’ll listen, okay? That way you’re learning but I’m also helping.”

The entire time, Sebastian can barely pay attention, too concentrated on the silky proneness of his best friend's voice, guiding him through the steps of the potion. Merlin, Ominis is too attractive, and he doesn’t even know it.

Needless to say, Sebastian could barely get his homework done, but eventually, with a light slap on his head, he started making progress.

Later that night, Sebastian decides to make his way down to the showers, needing to clean his face from the explosions that came from his attempts to brew potions. As he gathers his clothes, his eyes wander to Ominis’ bed, the view absolutely angelic.

Ominis lays there, eyes bore shut, his breath slow and quiet, sleeping ever-so-peacefully. Merlin. He’s so fucking beautiful.

Sebastian gazes down to where his pajamas are slightly unbuttoned at the bottom, revealing a soft, flat stomach with blond hairs easing below his trousers. And he doesn’t mean to, but he imagines slipping his hand underneath, wanting to feel supple skin beneath the pads of his fingers, wanting to feel every inch of Ominis’ body.

His cock twitches at the thought, and he stifles a groan sliding up his throat. He curses himself for thinking such things and rushes off to the bathrooms.

It’s embarrassing to think about how easy it is for him to get so worked up with such mindless thoughts.

As his shower warms up, Sebastian begins to wonder how it would feel to have Ominis touch him so inappropriately. He visions the other feeling his way down Sebastian’s body, fingers hesitant but excited to explore something he can’t see for himself, and honestly, Sebastian loves the idea of Ominis mapping out his body with delicate hands.

He shivers eagerly, feeling a ghost of Ominis’ hand caress his chest, feeling down his toned torso until it hovers just above his aching cock. Fuck.

If only.

Sebastian strips himself of his clothes, tossing them on a stone bench placed strangely against the wall. He always wondered why it was there, but it proves useful sometimes.

He hums quietly once he steps in, water dripping down his face and to the drain. His cock twitches with need, reminding him of the situation at hand—situation being his need for Ominis taking over bit by bit. And yes, he knows Ominis will never see him the same way, even if he does, his ability to act calm and collected will forever remain the one thing that shoots Sebastian down a peg.

Sebastian wraps his hand around the base of his cock, slightly embarrassed by the thoughts that churn in his mind, a vermillion tint lacing over tan, freckled skin. He almost feels sick, flicking his wrist over the length of himself, his other hand pressing against the wall to hold himself up, a soft moan eliciting from the tip of his tongue.

He’s gentle, imagining his hand as Ominis’, knowing the blond boy would go soft on him at first, just to test the waters of what he could take, to tease and tease and tease until Sebastian lost his composure. It wouldn’t take much, if Sebastian is honest. Hell, he could barely keep himself in check around the boy anyway.

Fucking christ—it feels too good. His thoughts are nothing but sinful, Ominis’ name slipping through the cracks of the shower walls as he quickens his pace.

Sebastian rests his forehead against the stone, steaming water falling over his backside, moaning vicariously at the thought of Ominis wrapping pretty pink lips around the tip of his cock, gray eyes looking up. Though he wouldn’t be able to see how good he could make Sebastian feel, Sebastian would have no problem telling him. Whispering praises like a mantra, telling him how good his mouth feels, anything to let him know how well he’s doing.

He’s close, so fucking close, to the edge of his release, when suddenly a bang echos through the bathroom. Sebastian slaps his hand over his mouth to muffle any moans that slip out, his other hand resting at the base of his cock. He hopes his moans weren’t overheard.

“Sebastian? Are you in here?”

It’s Ominis.

Fuck fuck fuck. What is he supposed to do? If he answers now his voice will surely give him away, but he has no choice does he?

“Uh…” Fuck, get it together. “Y-Yeah, it’s me.” He can hear the tremble in his voice, the desperation to cum leeching to the echoes that crumble against his ears.

“Why are you showering so late? And why were you saying my name?”

Sebastian’s eyes widen with fear. Merlin, help me! “What are you talking about? I haven’t said your name at all.” He gains a bit of composure back, confidence trying to cover the neediness he feels at this moment.

“Oh, Sebastian,” Ominis tuts, “you know better than anyone I have amazing hearing. You know, from the lack of sight.”

The way his name slips off of Ominis’ tongue is like honey that cracks Sebastian’s skin, igniting another flame deep in his stomach. His eyes flutter shut as he dares to continue the abuse against his cock agonizingly slow, just to receive that ounce of pleasure he craves. This proves to be a mistake, a moan slipping out that he knows Ominis hears.

“Sebastian!” Ominis gasps. “Are—Are you…?”

Practically caught in the act, something washes over Sebastian, darkness flooding over amber eyes as he whips the curtain open and pulls Ominis within the confines of the shower. Ominis squeaks at the suddenness, his back slamming against the wall under the strength of Sebastian’s hold.

Sebastian holds him hostages by his hips, fingers digging sharply into bone. “Ominis,” he whispers suggestively. “Fuck…Ominis. You’re so goddamn pretty.”

He admires the pink tint that scours over Ominis’ features, lips slightly parted in surprise. His cock is pressing against the front of the others stomach, twitching at the sight.

“You make me like this, tempting me day in and day out…this is the only way I manage to keep my hands off of you.”

“I-I tempt you?”

Sebastian leans in. He can tell Ominis senses this, watching his tongue leap out and slick his bottom lip, teeth then nervously biting at plush skin. He wants to tell Ominis every secret desire that’s been locked away in the back of his mind about fucking his dick past those pretty little lips, desperate to release himself down the back of his throat. But he doesn’t. Instead, he sighs hungerly, humming with approval.

“I don’t know what I—What I do to tempt you, Sebastian.”

“You don’t do anything, Ominis. You just,” he growls lowly, “You’re you, the way you walk, the way you talk—the way you play around and tease me all the time.”

“But that’s not—”

“Hush it. I’m not finished.”

Ominis whimpers, and it’s music to Sebastian’s ears. The water begins to soak Ominis’ clothes, pajamas sticking to the curves of his body, and Sebastian can’t help but to admire.

“It’s your body. You’re so small, much smaller than me, and it turns me on so much to know just how bigger I am than you.”

He swiftly turns the other around, making him face the wall. He allows himself to indulge in a little teasing, raking his hands up and down Ominis’ sides, smirking from the shiver he feels underneath his palms. Slowly, he makes his way to the front, exploring Ominis’ body selfishly.

“Your ass is amazing, too,” he whispers into the boy's ear. Sebastian laughs darkly when he feels Ominis push backwards, his cock nustling into the plumpness. “You knew that already, didn’t you?”

“No,” Ominis says sheepishly.

The shower is unbearably hot now, and it’s not due to the water anymore. There’s a tension begging to be broken and explored diligently, and Sebastian can tell Ominis can feel it too.

Sebastian ruts himself against Ominis’ ass, moaning softly at the friction. “I want you badly, Ominis. Tell me I can have you, please.”

He prepares for a no, for a slap to the face, and for Ominis to run out and head straight back to bed. But instead, Ominis agrees, a quant ‘yes’ echoing through his ear drums, and with that, he yanks Ominis around and smashes their lips together in a heated kiss.

Ominis’ lips are softer than Sebastian anticipated, a gnawing feeling in his gut that tells him he’s about to become addicted to this from here on out. He revels in it, passionately kissing and prodding open the others mouth, slipping his tongue behind pearly white teeth to deepen this kiss indefinitely.

His skin tingles, fire igniting through his veins with need when Ominis rests his hands on Sebastian’s hips, his own need pushing through as the kiss begins to gain a sense of roughness to it. Ominis is breathlessly moaning into Sebastian's mouth, and it’s making him go insane.

He gasps suddenly when Ominis rolls his hips, creating friction against his cock, and he can feel just how hard Ominis is. God is he going to enjoy this.

“On your knees, love,” Sebastian mumbles. “I want to put that mouth to more use than this.”

Ominis obliges, sinking down to his knees. Sebastian is slightly taken aback as delicate, shaky hands take hold of his cock, the water adding to the slickness of it.

He’s never had someone else do this to him, and it feels absolutely euphoric, the newly found pleasure almost addictive as Ominis begins to jerk him off with leisure. Sebastian holds himself up with both hands on the wall, looking down at the other who looks right up at him.

“Can you feel how big I am, Ominis?” He smirks, eyes burning with desire to dig out every ounce of cowardness from Ominis. “Do you feel how badly I need you, baby?”

“Y-Yes…” Ominis whispers. “You feel so good and big.”

Ominis guides his mouth to the tip, closing his eyes, and placing kitten-licks to the tip. Sebastian can tell he’s savoring it, using his sense of touch to make up for his lack of vision, and Sebastian thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

His mouth feels heavily around his cock, and Sebastian decides he needs to learn self control, trying his best to fight the urges to fuck Ominis’ mouth until he’s a drooling mess of spit and cum, and his lips blood red from the abuse. This is so fucking good.

“Your mouth is holy,” Sebastian moans as Ominis sinks lower onto his cock.

Temptation isn’t his strong suit, but when Ominis is here, looking ever-so-sinful, serpentine features reaching out and offering him a gift he can’t do anything but accept without question, going against his morals and everything he believes in. Ominis is nothing but a temptress, and it’s taking everything in Sebastian not to get his way.

“Ominis, stop teasing me.”

Ominis pulls off with a slick pop, a smile growing on his face. “But I like it.”

Sebastian brings a hand down to grab a fistful of blond hair, tangling his fingers deep within and guiding Ominis’ head back down to his cock. He glides himself between pretty lips, slowly moving in and out. The drag of the others tongue feels god-like on the underside of dick, infiltrating thoughts brimming at the front of his brain. It’s painfully slow for the moment, relishing in the sensations before his hips begin to move a little faster.

Ominis hums around the thickness, sending another wave of pleasure jolting down Sebastian's spine. Given he was on the edge of his orgasms earlier, he’s unbearably close now, so with that, he begins forcing his cock further down Ominis’ throat, making him take more and more until his nose is flush with his groin.

“You like how I make you take it, Ominis?” He hums. “Do you like having me down your throat like this?”

Ominis’ jaw goes slack as an answer, hands wrapping behind his thighs insisting him to pull out and slam back in. So Sebastian does.

He fucks Ominis’ mouth relentlessly, moaning darkly, head tilted at the ceiling from the pleasure. “Touch yourself for me, love. I want to drown out your pretty sounds with my cock.”

Sebastian goes faster, curses drawing from the back of his throat as he feels the vibrations of Ominis’ moans swallowed up by his cock. Ominis is vigorously jacking himself off, needy whines nothing but pathetic, reminding Sebastian of his want to hear them fall delicately into the air.

Another time.

“Fuck, Ominis. You’re so good for me,” he praises. “Can’t—mm fuck!—I can’t wait to fuck you like this one day. God the things I’d do to you.”

He smiles sadisticly, wishing Ominis could see his face right now, because fuck is he doing so well right now. That smile only grows wider when he feels warmth splatter over his legs, a rugged moan echoing against the stalls before it’s swallowed up.

“I’m gonna cum, Ominis, fuck!”

At his words, Ominis tightens his lips, edging Sebastian closer and closer until he’s spilling into the back of the Ominis’ throat with a loud moan that causes him to slap his hand over his mouth. For a second he forgot they were still near the common room, somebody could still be up and hear them. He makes a mental note to do this in the Undercroft next time.

He rides out the rest of his high before pulling out with a groan. By now the shower has turned cold, only realizing at this moment. He soothes the top of the others head from the bruising pull he had earlier.

“You okay, Ominis? I know that was a bit—”

Ominis interrupts, pulling him down quickly to kiss him.

“It was amazing.”

#fanfic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #smut #sebinis #sebastian x ominis

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bluenagi · 1 year

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NAGI SFW & NSFW BF HCS nsfw under the cut. minors DO NOT INTERACT.

reader is intended to be viewed as gender neutral. however, i wrote this with a fem bodied character in mind so there may be some slip ups, i apologize.

also i’d like to say this is my first ever published work so please go easy on me i am TRYINGGGG LMFAOO

——————————————————————————

SFW

you’re a childhood friend of reo, that’s how you’ve come to meet nagi. you’d always walked with reo to and from school, so when nagi started tagging along it was .. different

you REALLY confuse nagi at first.. he doesn’t understand why you make him feel the way he feels.

he looks it up after a few weeks of walking to school with you and reo, why his stomach feels funny when he’s around you. when the search result “butterflies in my stomach” comes up, he almost died of cringe and closed his laptop.

before he’s able to realize he’s doing it, he will start asking really strange questions around reo specifically about you. things like “so when did you guys meet?” or .. “what was y/n like when you were kids?” reo notices immediately, and that’s how you and nagi have reached this point. you are dating.

nagi is all about the small gestures, the little touches of reassurance. he’s been watching you for a while, so he can tell what you’re feeling to a certain extent. and this talent of his only grows as you spend more time together.

you bring out a certain side of him that he has never explored, this initially was why he fell in love with you.. he wanted an answer, he wanted to know why his stomach hurt when he was around you. he wanted to explore YOU.

nagi turns this love and adoration into a little game, after everything he “unlocks” about you, he wants to know more. he keeps his “how many more goals do i need?” attitude.

intimacy for nagi is very impulsive, if he wants to hold you he will, if he needs to feed an urge he will.

nagi is very possessive, he wants to understand you better than anyone else, and he wants you to be only his. nagi always has a hand on you, whether it be on your lower back while you walk, on your thigh when you sit next to him.. or nagi’s favorite, you in his lap. for nagi, this is the best position, he can do this anywhere and it instantly tells people “they are mine” without him having to say it, he can also freely play games and not have to worry about not having both hands. always walks behind you with a hand around your waist, he’s 6’3 he is BIG.

all of his romance knowledge is from dramas, so he WILL do cliche things. luckily, you love it.

he didn’t really text before he met you, so however you text he will end up matching your text style. if you use >_< :3 :D he will use them too.. he thinks it’s normal. you use lots of heart emojis so he does as well.

you’re his first for EVERYTHING so he needs to be taught, and he doesn’t mind learning. like i said, he wants to unlock everything about you, and if that takes you sitting him down and teaching him, he’s more than happy to listen.

you definitely had to initiate kissing, at first he doesn’t really understand the point. but he eventually warms up to it after seeing how much you like it. he WILL do research on how to be a better kisser.

NSFW———————————————————————

remember when i said you’re his first? nagi does NOT know where your spots are.. he has no idea how to touch you. but he is so eager to learn, he will attentively listen, and he’s a visual learner so SHOW HIM HOW.

you definitely watch porn together. and when you do it’s a lot of.. “that looks so uncomfortable..” “annoying..” “can we try that? never mind.” you either laugh together at how horrible it looks, or get super into it.

doesn’t NEED to ask you if it feels good (he can tell) but he WILL just to see you struggle to answer.

COCKWARM him, please cockwarm him. he had no idea what cockwarming was before you brought up the idea one night while you were in his lap and he was playing games.. but ever since the first time you cockwarmed him he feels like he can’t live without it. he WILL beg for it if pushed hard enough.

he can tell when you’re needy, but he’ll wait for you to say it to his face.. not because he’s busy, he just likes to see you all needy just for him.

he’s not very vocal, he’s more of a breathy panty fucker.. but he LOVES listening to you. will absolutely not tolerate you covering your mouth.. he likes to know he’s the only one who can make you feel good.

you had to tell him that he was big, he had no idea. he thought it was normal to have to do A LOT of prep.

you love his hands, and when he realized this he absolutely took advantage of it. like i said he always has his hands on your thigh, but if he’s feeling needy, or he can tell that you are.. he will slowly inch his fingers up and pretend he’s oblivious. he’ll do this until you push him away, or beg him for more.

aftercare for him is very.. he TRIES he knows it’s necessary and he knows you need it, but he can’t help but fall asleep afterwards, so it usually just ends in him cuddle trapping you.

#first post #this is crazy #blue lock nagi #nagi seishiro #nagi smut #headcanon #blue lock hc #blue lock headcanons #nagi bllk #bllk #bllk imagines #bllk nagi #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi x you #so nervous #might die

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hoboal87 · 8 months

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Don't Speak, Part 21

Pairing(s): dark!Sam x f!Reader, implied dark!Dean x f!Reader, mentions of Adam x f!Reader, dark!Dean x Claire

Characters: dark!Sam, dark!Dean, pregnant!Reader Claire, Bobby, Ellen

Warnings: dark!Winchesters, Trauma Bonding/Stockholm Syndrome, **Non-graphic descriptions of Non-Con/Rape, **Dub-Con, Violence, Non graphic descriptions of childbirth, Manipulation, Angst, **past miscarriage, Pregnancy

WC: 2.8k

beta’d by the wonderful, lovely, @writethelifeyouwant

**This is a dark!fic that includes triggering content and is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for your own media consumption, so please, read the warnings and if you feel that you may be triggered and/or offended please move along. If you have any questions about the warnings/tags please feel free to DM me.

Don’t Speak Masterlist

My Full Masterlist

Part 20

May

You don’t remember most of what happened after Dean confronted you and Adam. Bits and pieces shine through your memory on occasion but whatever he’d done to you–to Adam–is gone, and if you’re honest with yourself, you’re grateful. You don’t want to remember the awful things that Dean had almost certainly done to him. Your previously damaged wrist is wrapped again, your jaw is sore and your throat feels raw. You aren’t sure you could open your mouth to speak or eat, even if you wanted to.

You bring your hand to your face to feel the damage done, and from what you can detect, you’re swollen and there is at least one cut on your cheek. Groaning, you sit up, the pain briefly replaced by relief when a small kick comes from your belly.

The baby is okay, you sigh. It shouldn’t surprise you that Dean managed not to do any harm to your baby; producing an heir for the brothers has always been the goal since they took you a year ago. But whenever you think they’ve hit new lows to their depravity and ruthlessness, you or Claire learn that they have no boundaries.

As you rise from the bed, your ankle aches, no doubt also injured from Dean’s attack. You push through, needing the movement after being bed-bound, and make your way to the dressing table to grab a mirror and inspect yourself. Your reflection startles you. Bruises litter your body, two distinct handprints marring your neck, and a gash that has been crudely stitched. You wonder who had tended to your injuries. Adam, for all you knew, was dead. If Dean hadn’t killed him, surely Sam would have; he had touched what’s theirs, and the Winchesters are nothing if not possessive of you and Claire.

“You’re up,” Sam’s voice fills the emptiness of the room causing you to drop the mirror, and you watch as it cracks on the ground. Your heart pounds in your chest as he strides towards you, closing the space in less than half a dozen steps. His hand cups your face gently, his thumb grazing the healing cut on your cheek, and though you try to contain yourself, you let out a small gasp of pain and his face softens.

“I was starting to worry, princess,” he says warmly, a look of concern just barely touching his hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” you murmur, a feeling of guilt deepening in your stomach. Sam wraps his arms around you.

“You understand why Dean had to punish you, don’t you, Y/N?” Sam asks, waiting for you to nod in agreement. “Do you know how much it hurt, princess, that you were hiding this–” his hand cradles your stomach “–from me?”

“Sammy, I’m–” you can’t finish your apology, sobs leaving your body instead. You’d hurt him; you’d hidden your pregnancy for months, and now he’s upset with you. “I was scared– I thought if I waited until…”

“To find out from Dean? From Claire? Why didn’t you trust me, Y/N? I stood by your side when you miscarried, didn’t I? I gave you space to heal, I was gentle with you afterwards, wasn’t I?” Sam demands, his expression hardening, sympathy slipping away.

You nod, feeling ashamed for lying to Sam. He was gentle, understanding even; he didn’t have to obey John’s orders to stay away, but he did. Even after having to teach you a lesson when he found out about you and Claire, he was practically apologetic. He told you he loved you, and you repaid him by breaking the promise that you’d never do anything like that again. If there is one thing you were still learning about Sam, it’s that he doesn’t tolerate dishonesty.

“I told you it wasn’t your fault– that I didn’t blame you for what happened and you betrayed me, you kept secrets from me.” Sam gazes down at you pointedly, as if he’s waiting for you to make another confession. Your stomach knots violently: are you supposed to admit that his father had ordered you to carry on an affair with Adam in order to conceive an heir? What does he know already? Your heart thumps harder. What had Dean told him; does he know that Adam is John’s bastard; does he care? “Anything you’d like to tell me, Y/N?”

“I’ve been– Adam and I– John–” You don’t know where to start. Your relationship with Adam was nothing at first, you were obeying your husband’s father. Sam needed an heir, biological or not. “John told me to– that I had to with Adam,” you mumble, preparing yourself for Sam’s reaction. “Before he died, he said I needed to be pregnant when you returned from your trip. I didn’t– I didn’t want to, Sam, but you weren’t–”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault?” He accuses sharply, and you can’t stop yourself from recoiling from him out of instinct. “You fucked that piece of trash Milligan, and I’m to blame? Or is it that I married a whore who can’t keep her legs closed? Which one is it, Y/N?”

Tears fall silently down your cheeks, “I’m sorry, Sam, it won’t happen ever again. I only love you– I only want to be with you,” you half-lie. You’d learned to love him before, you could learn again. “I’m yours.”

“Good,” he sneers. “And let me tell you what will happen if you decide to deceive me again.” His eyes darken. “I won’t step in like I did this time. Do you want to know what Dean was doing to you when I found you?”

You hesitate to answer, thinking briefly that you could fill gaps in, but the bruises on your body told all the story you needed to know. You shake your head, diverting your eyes to the floor.

“Dad isn’t here to protect you any more, princess,” Sam grabs you by the chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Right now, the only thing stopping me from throwing you out onto the streets like the whore that you are, is that I need an heir to get what’s rightfully mine.” He jabs a finger roughly at your stomach, and Mr. Finch’s words echo in your ears. “No one is to step foot in this room, unless they are with me, until I say otherwise, understood? That includes Dean.”

“But what if–”

You hear the sound of Sam’s hand cracking against your face before you feel it. “I said, no one,” he reiterates, roughly pushing you back onto the bed, and running his hand up beneath your nightdress. “Open,” he commands, giving each of your thighs a slap. You do as you’re told, bracing yourself against the bed, hoping that this will prove your loyalty to him.

July

Weeks turn into months of being kept under lock and key. Sam is true to his word, you don’t see anyone: not Dean, Claire, Ellen, or Bobby. Sam is the one bringing you meals, books from the library when you request them, and when he’s in a particularly good mood, he accompanies you on walks around the east wing of the Manor. You spend your days staring out the window, envious of the fresh air that Claire and the few remaining servants can take advantage of.

You’re starting to grow restless. You crave interaction with someone other than Sam. Once or twice a week, muffled arguing seeps into your room from the hidden passageway that Sam and Dean still use to visit each other, but you can never quite make out what is being said. Whatever they were arguing about, it seems like Sam always won.

The only person besides himself that Sam allows into your room is the midwife, Dorothy, who visits two weeks after Dean's attack on you and Adam. She inspects your body with a raised brow, the gash on your cheek is mostly healed, and a scar has taken its place; the bruises have faded, and your ankle no longer aches, but you fear your wrist will never be quite right again. She declares you healthy in regards to your pregnancy before noting the paleness of your skin, and you silently rejoice when she recommends that you be allowed more time outdoors, to take in the air. She concludes that you and Sam should expect a delivery by the middle of September, giving you only two months left to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Sam takes Dorothy’s recommendations seriously and tells you that night that you’ll be allowed to walk the grounds, though he will of course be accompanying you. You take your walks late in the morning, and it becomes a part of your new routine. The fresh air does you a world of good, making the isolation that Sam has you in almost bearable. Some days, you sit under the large oak, wondering if this is what the rest of your life will be like at Winchester Manor–only ever allowed to see your husband, and not his brother or your sister-in-law ever again. You want to ask Sam to allow Claire to join you as she used to, but the mention of anyone else being around you causes Sam to lose his temper. Something has him paranoid. When a gardener gets too close to the two of you one day, Sam launches into a tirade about you being taken away from him. He grabs your arm roughly, guiding you back to your room and slamming the door before moving a dresser in front of it to block anyone from entering via the main hallway.

He paces the length of your room, muttering under his breath about blood curses and demons, uncleanliness and a sacrifice that has to be made. You’re frightened, but still you reach out in an attempt to calm him. He lashes out, his eyes darkening, and he shoves you back onto the bed before pushing up your skirt with one hand and freeing himself with his other. Your instincts to fight back–which you had long ago learned to suppress–desperately try to resurface, but you know it won’t do you any good. You brace yourself as Sam pushes in, stifling a cry as he mutters ‘mine’ over and over again, in time with his thrusts. Once he’s finished with you, he tucks himself away before disappearing out of the room through the secret passage, not returning until the next morning.

His demeanor is different–the madness that was behind his eyes is no longer there–but he informs you that for the time being you will no longer be permitted onto the grounds. You want to argue that Dorothy explicitly said you needed the fresh air and sunlight, but after the incident yesterday, it’s clear that Sam’s mind is in a fragile state, and you can’t risk your or your baby’s life. You spend another week in isolation, reading and carefully observing Sam. Bouts of madness seem to slip through the cracks more and more now that you’re looking for them, and you wonder if whatever once afflicted his mother is now coursing his veins also.

That night, pained screams replace the usual silence of the Manor. Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, and you hope Claire isn’t being punished for something at such a late stage of her pregnancy. Sam, unsurprisingly, is unfazed, but allows you to cozy up against him as the screams become more frequent.

“Sam!” Dean bursts through the secret passage and is striding towards the bed before you even register that he’s in the room. “It’s time.”

“And?”

“We made a deal. It’s time,” Dean insists stoically.

Sam rolls his eyes before exiting the bed, gesturing for you to join him. “Go with Dean,” he commands as Dean pushes against the wall, revealing the dusty passageway. Sam disappears out of the room as Dean grabs your hand to pull you into the dimly lit corridor.

In what feels like a matter of only seconds, you are in Dean’s room. Claire is panting in the middle of the bed, clutching at her belly and pulling on her nightdress in plain distress. As you move closer you notice a large wet spot underneath her. Dean orders you to sit in a chair beside the bed as he paces the room impatiently. You grab Claire’s hand, unsure of what else to do, and give it a tight squeeze. Claire gives you a pained smile in return. You want to give her assurance, tell her everything is going to be okay, but your words stick in your throat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Claire mumbles under her breath, glancing briefly at Dean, and for a moment things seem to calm. “I thought– If I’d known, I wouldn’t’ve–”

“I know,” you tell her. She isn’t a malicious person, and as easy as it would be to hate her for what she unknowingly set in motion, it wouldn’t do anyone any good. “It’s okay, Claire.”

“What’s taking so long?!” Dean grunts as Claire’s breathing picks up again and another wave of contractions hit.

Sam’s been gone at least an hour. At first, you assumed he was going to wake Bobby to send a carriage to retrieve Dorothy, or send for Ellen to help. She may not have medical training but she’d gone through birth before and helped you through the aftermath of your miscarriage. You had some knowledge yourself–only a week prior a book titled The Wife’s Handbook arrived, which you immediately consumed, wanting to know everything in case of this very circumstance. During your previous pregnancy, you were able to go to Claire or Ellen with any questions, but this book gave you guidance on things you wouldn’t think to ask. Though, you’d figured it would be you, and not Claire who needed help when giving birth, worrying that Sam wouldn’t allow anyone in to see you when your time came, if his mind kept deteriorating at the pace it seems to have been lately.

“Not much longer,” Claire grunts, tears filling her eyes. You nodded in agreement; her contractions are only a few minutes apart, now. “He promised, Dean.”

“I know!” Dean focuses back on the two of you, anger bright in his green eyes. “Stay here, Y/N.” As soon as he’s out the door, Claire lets out a blood curdling scream.

You lift her soiled dress to find a head, covered in dark blonde hair, delivered. Before you can tell her to push again she’s already doing so, and you watch in awe as the baby leaves her body. You flip the baby over, rubbing her chest, and waiting for her to cry. It takes a moment, but loud, high pitched cries issue from the tiny girl’s body, and relief washes over you.

Claire reaches out for the little girl and you hand her over gingerly, holding back your own tears as Claire brings the baby to her chest. You rub your hand against your belly, knowing that in only a few months, you’ll have your own baby in your arms.

“Ameila,” Claire whispers against the baby’s head. “I can’t believe you’re finally here. I love you so much, baby girl.”

You leave Claire alone briefly, entering the connected bathroom, and grab as many towels as you can. When you return, Claire has shifted baby Amelia to her breast, softly cooing at her. You drape a plush towel over the baby, lay two under Claire, and set the rest to the side.

When Dean returns, he has Sam in tow, and there is a heavy clanging echoing behind them. Your eyes stay fixated on Dean as he approaches the bed, warmth filling his face as his gaze falls on the baby in Claire’s arms. She hands the now sleeping Amelia over to Dean and his body stiffens slightly, as if he’s afraid he might hurt the newborn. You move away from the couple, allowing the new family a moment alone. For now, there isn’t any more that you can do for Claire, she needs a midwife or doctor to assess any damage done.

Sam doesn’t enter the room much further than stepping over the threshold, and you decide to join him. Once you’re next to him, you notice that there’s a large chain in his hand leading outside of the room. Claire lets out a hiss of discomfort, and there’s a nod between the brothers after a stern look from Dean. Sam pulls roughly on the thick chain and a hoarse grunt comes from the hall. He jerks the chain again. This time, the sound of footsteps accompany another, more submissive grunt. Dirty and bruised hands reach out on either side of the doorframe, using it for leverage as a figure steps out of the darkness and into the room.

Adam.

Part 22

Feedback is fuel! Please tell me what you think!

#don't speak #dark!fic #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #tw: noncon #sam winchester #dean winchester #smut #angst #supernatural

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neuroprincess · 1 year

Text

Our Last Goodbye - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader - Part Two

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: Melissa and Y/N reconnect at a cousin’s wedding and share an intimate moment together. Y/N is hopeful that this could lead to a reconciliation, while Melissa just wants keep this moment forever. Their last… At least until the classes come back and Melissa has to see someone else interested in her ex-wife.

Classification: +18, Light Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Jealousy, swearing, a bit of hard sex, fingering, hickeys, thigh riding, OC (original character)

Word count: +5200

Tag : @agaymilflover ^^

Part One | Part Two

In this chapter there will be two songs that will be attached when quoted.

The new teacher is pretty, tall, redheaded with perfectly cut shoulder-length, slightly wavy hair, sweet brown eyes, and always wearing high heels with a charming blazer. She also has a nice smile and soft spoken, especially when talking with Y/N, as she is doing while the girl tries to cut some broccoli on her plate without success, they slip off the fork every time, slipping to the other side as if they were purposely trying to escape. Unblinking, Alicia takes the cutlery from her hands as she continues to compliment her own students, and as if it were something normal or routine cuts the vegetables on the plate, small pieces are left, then she goes back to eating her Greek salad. Completely oblivious to the stares being thrown directly at her from across the common room, if she had noticed she would have realized the trouble she is getting herself into by staying on the radar of the other redhead, if eyes shot Melissa would have already killed her since she arrived at Abbott. Classes have been back for a couple of weeks, meaning it is still awkward working with the ex-wife, meeting her every day and acting like normal co-workers for the sake of the kids while the divorce papers are in process. The first days on the job were earlier, consisting of class councils and lesson plans, in this short time, the new fifth grade teacher, Alicia, approached Y/N the moment she found a seat vacant next to her, the former seat reserved for her. For years, even when they were not even a couple yet, the redhead had had it as her seat, next to Barb and her beloved at the same time. It was strangely painful to see that place being occupied by someone else, a knot formed in her stomach, Melissa tries not to admit the jealousy she feels when seeing Y/N and Alicia getting closer, renaming this feeling known as nostalgia and so it remains just for her ego. At the same time she is submerged by feelings of sadness and anger at seeing that place she so appreciated being occupied by someone else, simply because she is no longer there and was foolish to think it would remain empty. Yet she tries hard to keep composure around them and pretend she doesn't care what happens around her, but the feeling stays in her chest, rekindled by witnessing the scene in front of her as she enjoys lasagna. The hunger goes away and she can't eat another bite, a knot curling in the throat. Barbara laughs, putting a hand on her shoulder.

- You'll put a hole in their heads with your eyes, Mel. - she says, amused, while Melissa snorts and looks away. She knows her friend is joking, but still feels suddenly embarrassed, because Barbara knows the whole situation and that it is her fault, so she shouldn't be staring at them like that. Then stares at the floor, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down the feeling of guilt and shame. In another moment she would have fought back, joked about the situation, but the days have been melancholically overwhelming - Oh come on! You know I'm joking.

- I know.

- You still love her, you can't deny it. Why don't you go and talk to her? I'm sure the girl would listen to you. - Barbara continues in a whisper, looking directly at the other two teachers interacting as they finish their respective meals - You still care about each other, I can see and feel it.

- Bullshit! - she lets the bad word out, louder than expected, drawing the attention of everyone there, including the duo, she immediately regrets it and looks away, trying to act as if nothing happened. The teachers stare at each other for a few seconds and then return to their normal conversation - I lost my appetite.

Melissa snorts and closes the pot in which she brought her lunch a little harder than usual, then walks away without another word and avoiding looking at anyone, even Janine who seems to understand her and gives her a pained look. That's not what she wants, the only wish is to get rid of these persistent feelings that she has been fighting against since her cousin's wedding one month ago. While returning to the classroom, the redhead recalls that night of love in small involuntary memory flashes, every touch, kiss and mark she left on Y/N. She remembers how Y/N looked at her deeply full of passion, how they embraced each other tightly orgasm after orgasm, sweaty skin boiling with desire and the way their lips joined in a kiss so deep, so intense that they almost lost consciousness, because deep inside she knew this would be their last kiss. She remembers how complete she felt with Y/N in her arms, of watching her sleep and admiring the soft expression on her face as she slept with a small smile on the lips, as if all their problems had suddenly disappeared. Hopeful. And Melissa knew she couldn't give that to her only to disappoint later.

- Hey! - she hears someone calling her, in a few seconds Alicia reaches, Mel's phone is in her hands and the redhead smiles widely, this annoys the oldest one - You forgot it on the table. I was on my way to my classroom, so I thought I'd drop it off for you. - she explains, placing the phone in her hand and squeezing gently.

- Thank you, Miss Malone. - she pulls her hand away from the other woman and turns around, determined to go on her way, but is stopped by Alicia holding her arm gently - What?

- I don't know how to say this, but Barbara says you're very close to Y/N and can help me with something important. - the always extrovert girl turns into an embarrassed mess in a millisecond, blushing deeply.

- In what exactly? - Melissa sounds disinterested, covering up the disdain she feels for her showing more interest than usual in Y/N, but she can't let go of curiosity about what the other has to say. She turns completely around to look at Alicia, waiting for the continuation.

- Well, I want to ask her out on a date, but I have no idea what things she likes. So maybe a brunch in the park and then a comedy show? - Alicia rambles on, oblivious to Melissa's serious expression that realizes the teacher doesn't know they were married. - Or maybe breakfast on Sunday? - she adds, Schemmenti looks at her with incredulity. - What? - she asks, noticing the other woman's expression - Do you think it's a bad idea?

- No, it's not... - she says, still surprised in realization - It's a great idea, I just didn't expect you two to be so close. You're intimate? - Melissa asks, her voice full of curiosity with a hint of bitterness, then disguises her posture, as if she doesn't care and pretends to be willing to really help her, opening a fake smile when the newbie just nods negatively - But yes, I can help you. I know Y/N very well.

After Alicia, the teacher can consider herself a great actress, in a matter of seconds she pretended enthusiasm inventing the most eccentric and different dates, knowing that the ex-wife would hate most of them. She suggested feeding pigeons in the park, doing macramé and cataloging birds, as if these were real hobbies of Y/N, she almost convinced the other redhead that pigeons are her favorite birds and had fun with it. As alternative activities she has recommended tango dancing, climbing walls, making homemade comestic, also told her that the favorite flowers of hers are precisely the ones she hates the most, even wrote down movie ideas and recipes for a breakfast, Y/N's least favorite so to say, all the time wishing that her "help" would stop Alicia from ever getting to share an evening with her. Melissa much less wants them to share Sunday mornings, either in the parks, or drinking coffee together, or reading books together, or, in any way, spending any alone time together. She is content to lead Alicia down the wrong path and sabotage any chances she has with Y/N, cannot deny the delight she feels in seeing that the woman is following her suggestions and will thereby move further and further away in winning Y/N over.

The next two weeks pass slowly torturous for Melissa, as each day she arrives at school hoping to see them away from each other, even with her sabotage Alicia seems to be able to get closer and closer to her ex-wife. She feels increasingly frustrated that no effect seems to have emerged. She simply hates having to watch their interactions and shared moments between them, like when Alicia helped her change the tire of her car that got flat on the way out of school, when they danced together at an event, when Y/N brought her a homemade lunch that they shared in her classroom away from everyone, and, especially, when the redhead randomly presented her with a thin sweater, which Y/N is now wearing while eating a fruit salad reading some random website with Janine.

- You know, you can't keep denying that you still love her - Barb says as she sits down at the table beside her - And that you're dying of jealousy.

- It's not jealousy, it's worry. - Melissa says, shrugging the shoulders - I just want her not to be involved with the wrong people. Barb, she can't be that perfect. She's not the perfect woman for Y/N. She is not what my.... Well, Y/N needs.

- You are jealous. You know she is good enough for Y/N. You're just afraid of losing her for good. - the elementary school teacher laughs and starts unpacking her own lunch, ignoring the friend's incredulous look.

- No, I'm just worried about her, I just want her to find someone who really loves and cares for her. - the redhead snorts and stares at the girl laughing with Janine about something funny they saw.

- And you think that someone is you.

- Maybe. - she admits in a low voice.

A few seconds later Alicia enters the place with a huge bouquet of orange tulips, the ones Melissa swore were Y/N's favorites, she has a shy and strange smile on her face, as she walks towards the colleague with slow steps. Everything is happening in slow motion, the girl and Janine too distracted by their phones to notice her presence, while the other pair of teachers follow her attentively around. She holds the bouquet tightly, she is visibly nervous and holds the breath, then turns to Melissa for some reaction and gets two thumbs up with a smile. Barbara frowns in confusion. And then realizes the possible catastrophe to come. They stare at each other.

- Can you hear what they are talking about? - the redhead asks in a whisper, avoiding to look directly at the unfolding scene, following by the reflection of the phone.

- Nothing, but Janine looks uncomfortable.

- Y/N didn't get the bouquet. Great. - they end the conversation in whispers and she stands up suddenly excited - Hey, Janine! Finished your lunch? I need help getting some heavy books from the library.

Janine follows her without blinking, preferring to throw away the rest of the sandwich rather than continue in the middle of the whole situation, and with quick steps joins Melissa as she walks out of the room. When they are in the corridor, Janine looks relieved and starts to ramble on about how Melissa saved her life by getting her out of that strange situation, her usual smile doesn't reach the eyes. The redhead rolls her eyes and stops in front of the library, despite the neutral expression inside she can barely hide the pleasure that the plan somehow seems to be working. She needs to get Alicia away, as soon and as far away as possible.

- So you owe me a favor.

- What? - she asks in surprise, her smile fading as they stare momentarily at each other. Janine knows she's been dragged into this and she's screwed.

- What did they talk about? - Melissa asks slowly, her eyes narrowing and this intimidates the other woman.

- Y/N and Alicia? Well, the newbie was giving her a bouquet of flowers as a "thank you".

- Thank you for what exactly? - she crosses her arms and walks a step forward, voice a little lower than usual on purpose to intimidate her. Janine never limits herself in speaking as she had just done, there is something.

- For the weekend they spent together.

The smug expression on the redhead's face disappears quickly, the air is taken from her lungs and she can feel that bitter feeling in the pit of stomach, along with growing anger inside her. The painful image of Y/N and Alicia sharing moments takes over her mind, moments like watching trashy movies that neither of them pay attention to, playing board games that should be played with at least four players but are more fun to watch Y/N bend the rules, preparing a meal together sipping wine listening to Laura Pausini in the background, dancing, sunbathing in the backyard, or simply relaxing in each other's company. But seeing Janine's mischievous expression, Melissa knew that her plan had failed. Deep down, she was even praying that Y/N and Alicia had had the worst date of all, with lots of awkwardness, strangeness and no kissing, that it would not develop into the weekend, that her goal of keeping them apart would be successful. But, it seems, her prayers were ignored, so she will have to take matters into her own hands.

- Alicia can be quite naughty. - Janine smiles genuinely at the redhead's reaction, a mixture of shock and fury at hearing this.

- Do you and Y/N still do monthly class planning together on the last weekend of the month? - the teacher tries to cover her anger with a fake smile.

- Yes, we still do.

- Then you should organize another one, shouldn't you? - she doesn't wait for an answer and keeps talking - I need help with a new project. This weekend it's going to be at my house, 5pm, and you're not showing up.

And she leaves without receiving an answer, confident in knowing that one way or another Janine would set up this meeting and as she instructed, she will not show up, inventing a lame last minute excuse. Janine then sends a message to Barbara and Alicia: "All done, step 2 of the plan. I hope this works. Let's see what happens." She breathes a sigh of relief, unconcerned because she knows how jealous Melissa can be and will do everything she can to keep Y/N and Alicia from getting closer, in other words, she will win back her ex-wife.

The weekend comes slower than the teachers at Abbott Elemntary wish, not for Melissa, each day is pleasantly quick as she works on perfecting her miraculous plan. The day after the orange tulips incident she arrives at work early, knowing that on Tuesdays Y/N goes early to organize the "creative day", and eagerly awaits her to help with the boxes of materials she brings from home for her children, the girl is surprised for being ignored for weeks by her but accepts. They have a brief and superficial conversation about the activities while carrying the boxes to the classroom. Then she starts purposely passing in front of her classroom more often, occasionally nodding with a small smile on lips, small well-received contacts that encouraged Melissa to make Gary get her favorite snacks that were taken out of the machines before back to school, this attempt doesn't come the effect she wanted as they were shared with Alicia. The next day there are no more, all the snacks are in the back seat of Melissa's car. So she tries another approach, throws Y/N's lunch away, Alicia's too so there is no possibility of them sharing lunch from the same meal, and for the first time in months the two share a meal together, Melissa practically locks her in the room and convinces her with the favorite dish. The conversation is pleasant within limits but they are still awkward around each other, it's shallow. Neither is willing to open up much yet, they just exchange words about the children's work and a few jokes here and there. Both know there is more to it than that and neither was willing to deal just because they talked again, Melissa spent days preparing herself for when this moment would come, but words fail her when she finds the ex-wife on her front doorstep on a late Saturday afternoon. No amount of rehearsal was enough.

- Janine answered your messages? She didn't even view mine. - Y/N asks cutting out printed dollar bills, trying to make the edges as straight as possible.

- She didn't answer me either. There must have been some unforeseen event, she would never miss spending time at my house. - the redhead disguises, deleting the recent messages on her phone before showing them to her, and then goes back to stirring the risotto in the pan, humming Strani Amori that plays in the background, sound coming from the radio on the kitchen counter.

- That's a fact.

- Look at that, the sky is getting darker and darker. I think there's a storm coming. - Melissa points to the kitchen windows trying to change the topic after minutes of dull silence, a dark cloud takes over the sky, hiding the sunset with a deep blue layer.

- Damn it! - she whispers leaving the scissors aside when she starts to hear the weak drops hitting against the window, foreshadowing of a big storm coming, a lightning bolt crosses the sky followed by the loud noise of thunder - Janine was my ride, there are no buses here to my neighborhood.

- What happened to your car? - the stove is turned off, food is ready.

- Broke again, I'm on a bad streak. - and sighing heavily she remembers how strange the last two weeks have been - First, my favorite snacks are back and then suddenly gone, then someone took my lunch. Oh, and this is the second time my car has broken down in less than one month, also I think a ghost shares the apartment with me. Or my neighbor is dying.

- I miss you talking to me like that. - shy smiles emerge, the two stare at each other for a few seconds, the feeling of calm and comfort of a mundane moment takes over the dynamic, as if nothing has been happening for the last few months and they go back to that time when nothing seems wrong, no discussions beyond what they are going to do for dinner. - I miss us.

- Melissa...

- Are you with Alicia? - the question is almost unconscious, a bitterness in the back of her throat just thinking about the possibility.

- You have no right to ask me that. - Y/N whispers in frustration and confusion, getting up, leaving the unfinished clippings there - You were the one who filed for divorce, you were the one who left me alone in that hotel room to deal with it, who acted indifferent, and now you ask me that? I don't understand.

- Because I am fucked up, Y/N! I was scared, you know all the shit that was my divorce with Joe, but I didn't tell you everything that happened. You know what he said when we were signing the papers? That we had fallen into a routine. There was no more sparkle, no more willpower, that we became more roommates than partners. And when we started to fall into the routine, insecurities took over and I found myself very afraid that it would happen again. - tears fall freely at this point, the redhead struggles to maintain eye contact with her ex-wife who stares at her with the same pain in her eyes. - I didn't want you to get tired of me, to get stuck in this relationship when there's a whole world out there for you while I'm almost double your age and have nothing to offer. So before you could leave I... filed for divorce.

- Mel, I've never asked you for anything but yourself. Your age is not important. And I would never get tired of you, as I said before, I'm not Joe. - Y/N's words are low and she takes a few steps forward, inches away from the woman. Outside the storm intensifies, the sky suddenly darkens and another flash of lightning crosses the sky, they are so focused on each other that they don't notice, just as they don't notice the next song starting to play, Lato Destro Del Cuore.

- But... - Melissa is ready to debate, to devalue and blame herself, but before she can do that she feels Y/N's lips against hers in a soft and tender kiss, their hands thirsty for each other explore their known bodies, looking for more contact and there they stay. The air is taken from their lungs and only returns when they part seconds later, Y/N's hands are still on Melissa's face and Melissa's on her waist - Does this mean you and Alicia are not together?

- What? - the girl laughs, as if it were the stupidest or most random question of all, then realizes that the teacher was asking seriously as she notices her serious expression waiting for an answer - Mel, we are just friends. I've never seen her like that.

- But what about the weekend date? And the tulips?

- There was no date, well, we just went to the flea market for jewelry and old books. - Melissa sighs with relief this time, not avoiding a big smile when she realizes that they had never been on a date, all those painful images dissipated instantly. - And Barbara went with us. The tulips were a joke, I guess, I didn't quite understand why she gave them to me.

- Fuck, Barb... That one... - Y/N is confused, oblivious to recent events - Never mind, you're here now.

Another bolt of lightning cuts across the sky, lighting up the entire room before darkness takes over, everything is dark and silent except for the music on the battery-operated radio. Melissa's hands tighten around the girl's hips, they are closer than before, to the point where she can feel her warm breath and irregular breathing, She smiles, knowing Y/N's fear of the dark and how being in her arms can calm her somehow, it has always been like this, as it had happened many times before in fearful situations.

- Let's get the candles from the living room. - she leads Y/N out of the kitchen, going through the furniture and rooms without needing the vision, knowing by heart every part of the house, except for the other woman's purse left near the couch, stumbling she falls on the couch knocking Y/N on top of herself, since they were holding hands.

The two laugh finding the situation cliché, Melissa's arms wrap around Y/N's body and pulls her to herself, inhaling the smell of shampoo and perfume, feeling the softness of the hair against her fingers as she massages a sensitive spot behind Y/N's ear, drawing a satisfied moan from her. Their eyes meet at the next glimmer and smile before Melissa rises to sit with the girl on her lap, taking her lips for herself again, this time it is deep and fiery, carnal. Her hands snake from her back to her waist, exploring and grasping every part of skin with possessiveness, feeling the heat, her trembling and how she desires it too. Their mouths part for a second and Melissa runs her lips down the length of the neck, one hand migrates to Y/N's hair grabbing a handful of hair pulling her so that her neck is even more exposed to the Schemmenti attacks. Caressing kisses are left on the skin, the redhead's tongue delighting in the most sensitive parts, feeling the warmth and softness of the skin before sucking on those spots. The marks are almost instantaneous from such intensity and strength, shades of crimson painted on her skin. Melissa wants Y/N, Alicia, and anyone else who sees her to know that she belongs to her, only her, and will not go anywhere.

In less than a minute Y/N is practically naked on top of her equally naked (still legally) wife, sitting on her lap wearing only panties after removing the dress she was wearing, the teacher's hands continue to travel over her skin, stopping at the curve of the naked boobs and becomes thirsty to adore the two masterpieces, Without a second thought Melissa takes one of the areolas into her mouth, tongue playing with the nipples and being teased by the girl's micro reactions she bites the erogenous zone, then sucks it unmercifully while facing her squirming face, dimly lit by the pitch and some random lightning. Her right hand leaves the boobs, without hesitation reaching the girl's center, already wet and in need of her touches, and without hesitation just pulls the panties to the side, unexpectedly penetrating her with two fingers. Without preparation or any other preliminary. It's hard, strong, intense and passionate, Melissa lets out a strangled scream when Y/N bites her shoulder trying to hold back her own scream, of pain and pleasure.

- Oh, Mel... - she whispers trying to control her breathing as the redhead begins to move inside her, slowly but steadily, enjoying every second of this intimate moment she has missed so much. Both of them are completely delivered.

- Amore mio, I've missed this so much, for fuck's sake. - Melissa whispers in her ear, as she gradually speeds up the movements, the body on top of her bends back and moans loudly. - Oh my God, how I missed it...

The redhead leans in with her fingers still inside Y/N, taking her along as she gets on her knees and the girl lies on the padded couch, back supported by the various decorative cushions. A better and easier position for Melissa, who smiles before giving a quick and hard thrust as she crawls over to straddle one of the thighs, rubbing her intimacy against the skin, moaning instantly excited, her hips moving slowly, enjoying the sensation. They kiss again, Melissa's lips are warm and soft, her tongue teases Y/N's, eager and wild, deliciously invasive. The movements increase, harder and faster, everything is so intense, the teacher's hips move faster in search of more pleasure, they both moan loudly, but not as loud as the rain that falls outside, intensifying just like the activities inside the house. Y/N brings one hand to her wife's hip and the other slides to her pussy, feeling the excitement dripping between the fingers, something she has come to expect with her wet thigh, and strokes the bundle of nerves. Quick and sure, just like Melissa's strokes, they work their way to climax. The desire only grows, each touch, kiss or moan doesn't seem enough to express the longing their bodies felt for each other, they feel completely vulnerable and full of desire, the sensations mix and multiply, bringing them to climax. Melissa holds her tightly, kissing her with desperation as they cum together, pleasure running through their bodies as to share the ecstasy of this moment, trembling in each other's arms. Melissa collapses on the girl with a big smile on lips and if Y/N could see her face she would find a pair of bright olive eyes. Still in the dark their lips meet again after taking in air, it's quiet and gentle, touching each other softly, exploring every inch of each other's mouth, Melissa's fingers tangle in Y/N's hair again, deepening the kiss. The soft touch and warmth spreads through every part of their bodies, they have barely finished over one orgasm and are already longing for another. The redhead slides her hand down, caressing Y/N's body, pressing on her hip, pulling closer.

Melissa smiles and whispers: - We still have a lot of time to make up for it, Amore mio. - she slides her other hand behind her, gently caressing the back of Y/N's neck as their lips come together again.

Opening her eyes, Y/N is faced with Melissa's calm and relaxed morning face, her red hair disheveled, skin illuminated by the dim light coming through the window. Her reddish lips are ajar, arms around her, and her stare fixed on the girl as a plea for her to stay. She is underneath, body curvaceous and smooth, her breasts pressing against Y/N's head resting right there using it as a improvised pillow. Melissa looks at her tenderly, enjoying the sight of having her in her arms again, then holds Y/N tighter, desperate not to let her leave. She knows she can't prevent this from happening, but she still tries to make the most of this moment. Their hearts beat together, and she feels safe and loved again.

- I still can't believe we slept on the carpet! - the girl whispers with exhaustion in her voice, and Melissa smiles, nodding her head.

- I know, but it was still great! One more moment to add to our list of adventures.

- And places we've had sex, we haven't had it in the kitchen or in the dining room. - the answer is always the same and it doesn't surprise her when the redhead nods in denial, her kitchen is a kind of sanctuary and would be weird to see nonna cooking or eating there. - Just kidding.

- Amore mio... - Melissa's voice is serious now, hoarse from having just woken up after the best night's sleep in months - Forgive me for everything I've put you through. You're staying, right?

- I never wanted to leave and I never will. I love you! - they stare at each other with their faces too close together and a smile comes to their lips, the feeling of security and trust they feel for each other is so strong that both realize that no matter what the future brings, everything will be okay because they'll be together - I will give you back your necklace, but you better never take off again. It's a threat.

- Fuck, I am so lucky. - Melissa places a soft kiss on Y/N's lips - I fucking love you.

Meanwhile in the group:

"Do you guys think the final part of the plan worked out?" (Janine)

"Idk, I hope so, I texted Y/N yesterday and she didn't reply. She always replies." (Alicia)

"I did the same to Melissa and she didn't reply either," (Barb)

"Everyone knows that Melissa would puncture her own tires to not let her leave the house, she must be holding the poor girl captive." (Barb)

"LMAO" (Janine)

"Of course!" (Alicia)

"Thank you for participating in this crazy plan with us, Alicia." (Janine)

"You're welcome ^^ I've always wanted to put my college drama classes to use." (Alicia)

#melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary x reader #imagine

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