#because chuck wants them to bend to his will and do what he wants of their own 'choice' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddieshellfxre · 2 years

Text

Sugar Me

Eddie Munson x Fem! reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Eddie is your best friend and you tell him your into choking

content: 18+ unprotected PIV sex, masturbation, creampie, choking, swearing, smut, slut calling

a/n ive had this idea for a while, for some reason best friend Eddie always gets in a special way. I hope yall like it.

reblog and like if you do ♡

masterlist

In your room Eddie is helping you clean up for the first time in his life. He doesnt really know what hes doing, hes just gathering clothes and putting near your laundry basket

“you do realise you can open the basket and chuck the clothes inside right?” you ask placing your hands on your hips raising a brow “ugh” you sigh “just go sit down ill do it” you say as you command him to sit on a chair at your desk and he was more than happy to do so. He was your best friend but that boy cant do anything to save his life

You feel his gaze watching you bend over and picking up all the clothes he left on the floor. You pick a armful of it and chuck in the basket, letting a pair of panties fall out of your arms, Eddie quickly stands up and grabs it and hands it over to you hanging by his pointer finger

“you left these out” he says with a smirk on his face. You feel heat radiate from your cheeks and it makes Eddie laugh “ohhhh cmon dont go shy on me just because i picked up your … dirty underwear” he says while looking at you up and down the entire time, his breathing becomes shaky at his last words and his lips turn into a cocky smile, he turns his back and makes his way to the chair he previously was sat on.

You sit on the edge of your bed, tired from cleaning your room and high out of your mind because youve been smoking with eddie the entire time and talking about random things until the conversation gets kinda heated with you talking about various kinks, its not something out of the ordinary with you guys, it happened very frequent because you were so comfortable with each other

“but have you ever been choked? how do you know you like it so much?” he questions you “ive seen the guys you dated and NONE of them seem like the bdsm type”

“i know i like it because ive done it myself you idiot” Eddie raises an eyebrow in interest, forming a smile he reajusts himself on the chair

“wait so youre telling me…. you’ve choked yourself? like… when you—“

“Gosh Eddie, ive choked myself while getting off. if no one will do it for me might as well do it myself” you scoff placing the blunt between your lips. Eddie looks at you surprised to see this side of you, he thought he knew everything about you but this took him by surprise “dont look at me like that Eddie, i bet you have kinks of your own that would make me squirm”

“oh this didnt make me squirm baby, it made me curious as fuck” he says taking the blunt away from you. its a love hate feeling when he calls you baby, its not often but he does it so out of the blue it takes you by surprise each time

you notice how he cant keep still, like something is bothering him during the conversation

“is everything alright Ed? you seem like you wanna say something but wont” you question as you dangle your legs at the end of the bed while you rest yourself on your arms, making your shirt rise up just enough to show your lower belly. Eddie keeps almost eye fucking you the whole time always moving in his chair. You notice he has never looked at you like this way, you cant help but feel nervous at this

“cmon i know you wanna ask me something just do it already, it cant be worst than me telling you i choke myself when i get off” you laugh

“wha-what do you think about when you touch yourself” his eyes pierce you to the bed and you feel like you cant move.

“it depends” you say rubbing your legs against each other

you wanted to just tell him hes what you think about late at night alone in your room. he cant keep his eyes off you as you make small sensual moves on the bed bitting your lip while looking at him, you do it on purpose, you wanna see what kind of reaction you could get off him. you notice he has a tight hold on his crotch and lightbulb lights up in your head making you jump of the bed walking over to the chair that hes sitting on, resting your hands on his thighs you come closer to his ear and whisper “i like thinking about you Eddie” you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug at it slightly, hips buck in his seat and his knuckles turn white from how hard hes gripping onto the arm rest of the chair, you let out a laugh and stand up in front of him. one hand still holding onto his crotch you feel his other hand trail up your thigh stopping at your ass

“how about you show me exactly what it is that you do when you think about me” he squeezes your ass tight in his palm.

Eddie stands up, youre now facing each other with very little space between you, you feel his hands grabbing at your waist pulling you in closer, so close you feel his raging boner inside his jeans, just the feeling of his bulge is enough to make you feel like youre already dripping. You grab him by the colar of his Hellfire shirt and pull him towards the bed. The back of your legs touch the end of your bed and you climb on laying down, spreading your legs open.

Eddie understands what your doing and tried to follow you onto the bed, you stop him placing a foot on his chest

“uh uh! you said show you” you tusk keeping him at a distance. he looks at you in dispair, he wants to touch you and make you feel good.

You spread your legs open placing your hand down your shorts and panties, you moan at your touch as you rub small circles around your clit. “hmmmmm, feels so good” you throw your head back in pleasure as you slide your fingers through your slit gathering your wetness. You notice how Eddie is looking at you, in need to touch you.

You slowly remove your shorts and your panties with it, leaving Eddie front and center to your private show

“fuckkkk— youre killing me y/n” he falls onto his knees in front of you.

You resume your hand’s position at your slit unserting your middle and ring finger inside you and pulling it out rubbing at your bud “Ohhh Eddie” you moan “it feels so good baby” your words feel like fire to him, you look him in the eye as your insert your fingers in and out of you again and again never breaking your eye contact. You bring your other hand up to your throat starting squeezing it but you feel Eddie’s hand on top of yours

“let me take over, please i beg you baby! i cant take it anymore” Eddie hovers over you, removing your hand from your hole, you groan at the empty feeling “shhh baby, let me take care of you” you feel Eddie’s lips on your neck, slowly making a trail of kisses down to your belly looking up at you the whole way down.

Hes so sexy, the way his hand is placed at your chest caressing your left tit playing with your nipple between his fingers. Placing wet kisses on your inner thigh coming closer to your heat, making you grind your hips against the bed.

Eddie slowly teases you by blowing air into your pussy, making you shiver and groan at the same time

“quit teasing me Eds, and fuck me already”

“easy there baby, ive waited long enough to see you like this, i wanna take my fucking time on you” he says sliding a finger up and down your slit, he smirks and he watches you arch your back in pleasure and eager to feel him inside you.

The sudden touch of his tongue at your clit sends a shock through your body making you moan loudly grabbing at his hair and tugging it ever so slightly.

“fuuuuck Eddie, you’re so good at this” you manage to let out almost at a whisper

“and youre fucking hot, you know that?” he questions you as he inserts two fingers in you, continuing to play with your clit with his tongue.

Everytime his tongue touches the right spot his fingers curl up inside you making you clench around him.

“oohhhh you like that dont you?” you nod and keep pulling at his hair grinding your hips close to his face “imma need words baby” he laughs as he continues to tease you

“yes Eddie, oh god yes! dont stop i-im almost there” you whimper almost reaching your orgasm. Eddie continues to play with your clit sucking on it until finally you clench around his fingers one last time. Eddie removes his fingers from inside you bringing them to his mouth sucking them clean

“you.taste.soooooo.good” he pauses in between words as he sucks your fluids off him. You pull him up by his shirt up to your face kissing him, alowing yourself to taste you on him.

“let me make it up to you” you whisper as you try to lay him down on his back

“no no baby” he stops you “i wanna cum in you and if you wrap that pretty little mouth around my cock i wont last” he laughs kissing your neck. he unbuttons his jeans pulling them down far enough to let his dick spring free. You gasp at the size grabbing it with your hand giving it a few strokes and lining it up with your entrance. He replaces your hand with his, teasing your hole with his head, you squirm under him begging for him to go in you.

“Edddieeee” you cry

“Eddiiieeeee please fuck me!! Oh Eddie you’re soo good” he mocks you continuing to tease you

“never said you were good big boy! dont put words in my mou-“ he cuts you off by slamming his cock inside you, you let out a load moan making his head fall in your neck, his heavy breathing on you turn you on even more. He finds a steady pace perfect to please both you and him

“i-i Eddie” you cry, wanting to form a sentence but hes hitting it way too good for you to form one “fuck!! choke me!” Your words make him slam harder into you as you feel his hand at your throat squeezing it.

He’s scared to hurt you but hes hungry for you at the same time

“you take me so well baby. you like it when daddy chokes you? uh? you like being treated like a little slut dont you? fuck, you and your tight little pussy are so good” he continues to have a grip at your throat and you start to close your eyes in pleasure, you never want this feeling to end. “i need you to look at me baby, i wanna see your face when you cum”

You feel a preassure on your lower belly starting to form and feel yourself clenching around his cock

“fuck do that again” he begs and you do as so! You slide your hand down to your clit rubbing it in circles as he continues to go in and out of you “fuck baby— keep going we’re almost there” you rub yourself looking for your orgasm reaching it quickly after, same with Eddie once he feels you coming on his dick. He slows down his pace slowly removing himself off you. He sits infront of you watching his cum drip off your pussy, a sight he now claimed to be his favorite in the world.

“you look so beautiful right now y/n” He says reaching with two fingers at your entrance collecting the mixure of both of you and bringing up to your mouth “open up that pretty mouth of yours” he closes his eyes in pleasure as you take his fingers in your mouth sucking the cum of them “fuck youre good” he says under his breath shaking his head.

He lays down next to you, coming down from his high, noticing the handprint he has left on your throat, making him worried he hurt you he asks if youre alright

“alright? that was the best sex i ever had in my life Eddie. Finally someone with a firm hand” you laugh touching your neck “it has your handprint on it doesnt it?” you ask proudly. Eddie nods in confusion at your exicitement

“i didnt mean to leave a mark y/n sorry”

“oh please im glad you did! fuck i hope it stays there for weeks”

Your words take Eddie by surprise, he pulls you in by your waist cupping your face and bringing it closer to his

“youre fucking perfect for me” he says kissing you softly breaking away right after to ask you “you ready for round two?”

#eddie munson #stranger things eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunson #eddiestrangerthings #stranger things #st4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson kink

5K notes · View notes

zepskies · 7 months

Text

In Bad Weather

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along?

[Set in S15 - "Fix It" for season finale]

AN: I had to finish the finale (maybe?) of this story verse before the end of Hispanic Heritage Month. 😘 This is the third installment of "Midnight Espresso!"

Song Inspo: “We Made It” by H.E.R. (<- On repeat. Seriously if you haven't heard this one, you'll thank me later.)

Word Count: 7,600

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut, angst, hurt/comfort, body insecurity, body appreciation, heartache, followed by the fluffiest fluff…

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Al Mal Tiempo

Dean can’t remember the last time he woke up quite like this.

“Shit,” he grunts, clenching fists into the sheets.

He hears a muffled giggle underneath them.

He’s lying on his back, one knee starting to bend as he jolts on reflex. But familiar hands are holding down his thighs, as even more familiar lips caress him through his sweatpants.

Dean raises up the blankets and sheets to see your slightly frizzy-haired head pop up. Your playfully mischievous eyes meet his.

“Hey,” you greet him.

He raises a brow at you, smiling incredulously. “Hey.”

You then give him an annoyed look. “Do you mind? I was working on something.”

You try and cover yourself back up with the blankets, but Dean tosses them down your body. He wants to see you in that tank top and those little shorts. He's already getting a nice view of cleavage, no bra, and you’re straddling his thighs. His knees slide up to press against your ample behind.

“I do mind, actually.” His voice is still coarse with sleep. He clears it a little, and he smirks. “I was getting some good Zs in. You know, before I was interrupted.”

Your hands glide smoothly up his thighs, your nails catching on the fabric. You tilt your head at him.

“You really want me to stop?” you ask. Dean can’t readily respond, because he felt the shape of your words against his dick.

He moans, his eyes closing, fingers gripping the mattress under him when your mouth and tongue continue to outline the shape of his cock through his pants.

“I think I could finish you just like this,” you tell him, and still, your lips never leave him. “Or…maybe I’m feeling generous.”

Your nails hook on the waistband of his old sweatpants. The elastic has practically no give as you pull down the hem and expose his risen length. Shooting him one more smile, you let your hands glide across his sternum and hips before you finally take his waiting cock into your mouth.

You love the sound of Dean’s voice, especially when you have him like this. His hand buries in your hair, tangling in the curls.

“Fuck, baby…” he mutters.

That’s kinda the idea, you want to say, but your mouth is preoccupied. Your lips and tongue move over him slowly. And soon your hands join to wrap around the base of his cock, stroking whatever you can’t take fully in your mouth.

You know he’s enjoying himself when his hand tightens in your hair. His breathing becomes labored, but still too steady for your liking.

You decide to pick up the pace. In your mind you think of a song to keep a good rhythm.

Devórame otra vez, ven, devórame otra vez…

Que la boca me sabe a tu cuerpo. Desesperan mis ganas por ti…

“Wait, wait,” Dean says, guttural in his throat. He stops you for a moment with his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him in confusion, but you oblige him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern.

“Nothin’.” He shoots you a weary, lopsided smile. “Just thinking I want to have enough mojo to give you a good morning too.”

You snort. Mojo. This man.

But you shake your head. “You’re the winner today, baby. I just wanna make you feel good.”

It’s been a long year. You all had dealt with Michael taking Dean from you, at least for a while. Now Michael is gone, thanks to Jack, and they’d managed to reunite Jack back with his soul…but there’s still Chuck to deal with. It hangs over you all like a malevolent cloud.

So you want to help Dean take his mind off all that, just for a little while. And maybe part of you thinks that if you love him that much more, he won’t despair as much over how Chuck has been manipulating the brothers Winchester…basically their entire lives.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, however, when Dean grasps your arms and tugs you up until you’re level with his chest. His hand finds your cheek, brushing his thumb there, then slides into your hair.

He smirks. “We can both be winners.”

A smile spreads across your lips, just before he pulls you into a kiss. Passion grows one into many, with hands disappearing under each other’s clothes to remove them.

Strong hands part your thick thighs further, and long fingers find their way down between them. First teasingly along the seam of your pussy, then slipping inside to get you ready for him.

Your face buries in his neck as you moan encouragements into his ear, not all of them in English. By now, he’s learned a lot of what you whisper in Spanish. It still makes electricity spark down his spine, no matter what language you’re speaking in.

He knows when it’s time when the warm inner walls of your core are slick and gripping his fingers tight. But when he removes them, you shudder.

Both of you are breathing hard by the time he actually lines himself up inside of you. You use his shoulders for leverage, and the pads of his fingers circle insistently around your clit as you slowly sink down on his cock.

A keening cry escapes from your throat, while his free hand grips hard on your ass.

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts. Your walls are already fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice.

You pant for breath. Your loose hair falls around both of you, shielding you from all other thoughts and sensations other than this.

“You feel so good,” you breathe, shifting your hips experimentally. “Always so good.”

Dean nods, and you know what it means: For me too.

He sits up and crushes you against him, bare breasts against his chest. (He loves the feeling.) He wraps an arm around your back and twists, until you’re underneath him and laying against his pillows. He encourages your thighs to stay wrapped around his waist as he begins to pound into you.

You breathe a short laugh. “Can’t let me stay on top?”

Dean grins. He grabs your hand and manages to press a kiss to your palm in between strokes. He knew what you were trying to do earlier, by taking care of him, but he can’t help it. He’s a giver.

And he knows exactly how to give it to you, shifting the angle of his hips to have you arching underneath him, gasping, clinging to his arms.

Thanks to your earlier treatment, that about does it for him. He can’t stop himself from a shuddering release inside you (praise fucking be for birth control, he thinks), but he still makes sure you come with him. He strokes your clit at the same time as his last deep strokes, and soon your voice washes over him as you call his name.

Afterwards, Dean rests his forehead against your shoulder, laying a kiss above your breast. He just woke up a few minutes ago, and he’s already tired.

“Okay. I need a damn nap,” he pants.

A giggle pours out of you. You rub his back soothingly.

“That’s what you get for doing all the work,” you tease. “I tried to help you.”

“Help with what?”

Both you and Dean freeze at the sound of Jack’s voice. He’s just opened the door to your bedroom like you two hadn’t expressly reminded him about privacy.

You yelp in shock, and Dean’s face screws up in a glare as he reaches back fast for the closest blanket to yank over you both.

“What the hell!”

“Oh…sorry,” Jack says, shielding his own eyes. “Sam just wanted me to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

“You didn’t need to tell them right this second!” Sam calls from down the hall.

“Knock, man! We knock on closed doors in this house!” Dean says. House. Bunker. Whatever.

He adds, “Or better yet, when my door’s closed, you give it a five-foot perimeter. Understand?”

Jack nods quickly and flees the room. “Sorry!”

The door slams shut behind him. Dean shakes his head. You can almost see the fumes coming out of his ears. You’re embarrassed and blushing, but you’re also biting your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Dean looks down at you.

“It’s not funny. He needs to fuckin’ learn,” he says. His brows are still furrowed, but his mouth twitches upwards. “Should’ve locked that damn door.”

You reach up and twine your arms around his neck. Your lips get tantalizingly close to his.

“You’re still balls-deep inside me,” you remind him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s kinda funny.”

Dean’s lips purse. He doesn’t want to smile, but you’re making it difficult. Your hands slide down his chest, toying with his nipples as they go. You press a kiss to his throat. Meanwhile, your thighs squeeze his hips, reminding him of where he's still deeply buried. You smile when he utters a faltering sound.

"You tryin' to start something else I'll have to finish?" he teases. You give him a playfully narrowed look.

"Sure you got the mojo?" you toss back.

Raising a brow, Dean shifts out of you a few inches, just to push his half-hard cock back inside. You moan a bit, brows furrowed when the move stirs a tremor of arousal in your core. He hardens up fully at the sound, at the feeling of you clenching around him.

He smiles. “Well, well. I’m thinkin’ Round 2 after all.”

You smirk up at him and give his ass a nice little smack. “Then it's my turn for a ride.”

With a huff, he lets the twist of your hips and soft hands push him onto his back.

In the aftermath of Round 2, both of you are spent before you’ve even gotten out of bed. It’s a rare lazy morning where you don’t want to be bothered with another hunt, or even getting dressed just yet.

You have the cover of the warm sheets and blankets. Your back rests against Dean’s side, up against the headboard. His arm is wrapped around you, his hand intertwined with yours as you play with his fingers.

He’s catching up on Dr. Sexy MD, but you’re admittedly lost in thought. You bring his hand to your lips, and you just hold it there.

Dean glances at you and finally notices your contemplation. He strokes a thumb over your ring and pointer fingers.

“You okay?” he asks.

When you register his voice, you merely nod. But Dean isn’t convinced.

“Baby,” he presses.

It finally earns your attention. You look over at him, and you realize that he knows you too well to be fooled. You sigh, in a way that has Dean pausing his show and giving you his full attention.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

With your free hand, you rub at your eyes and cheek. “Sam and Eileen. My heart just fucking breaks for them.”

You’re thinking about what happened a couple of weeks ago. After learning that Chuck manipulated Sam, who found the spell to bring Eileen back to life, she just…left.

Part of you wants to be angry with her; you love Sam like he’s your own brother. But you understand her as well. Being tied to Sam and Dean Winchester is like being tied to twin hurricanes. You’ve just been in this for far too long to let go of them now.

Dean nods at your admission, but he doesn’t have an answer for you. He hurts for his brother too. Part of him even feels a little guilty, having what he has with you, when Sam’s bit of happiness just keeps slipping out of his fingers.

“Maybe they just need some time to sort themselves out. Cooler heads and all that,” he says.

Time. You hope that’s all they need. However, it also makes you wonder about other things.

“That’s not it, is it?” Dean asks. He’s watching you shrewdly, and your lips thin into a line.

“Dean, what if…”

“Yeah?”

You hate yourself for even thinking it, let alone saying it. But you and Dean had survived this long on honesty, above all else. You can’t hide this from him anymore.

“What if Chuck manipulated us too?” you ask, in a small voice.

Dean’s face slackens. His hand releases yours, and he turns to face you more fully.

Emotion begins to clog in your throat and burn in your eyes.

“What if you and I would’ve never met if…” Your voice trembles, unshed tears clouding your vision. “And even if we did, would you still have kissed me that night? When we got back from that hunt—”

“Hey,” Dean protests, but now that you’ve begun, you can’t stop yourself from spilling your latest insecurities—the ones you’ve been holding onto ever since Chuck revealed himself as the villain of the whole world.

“I mean, what am I?” you ask. “Just the diversity casting in Chuck’s story?”

“Don’t you say that shit to me,” Dean angrily snaps.

You gape incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.”

You feel how tense his body is, but your temper snaps just as well.

“Oye, mira ver,” you warn him.

You’ve levied that at him enough times that he knows all too well what it means.

“Watch it, my ass,” he retorts. “You should know better than that.”

You frown at him, but he reads the thread of insecurity in the downturn of your lips, in your eyes that are starting to shine with tears. That always breaks him down.

Dean sighs and reaches for you then, cupping your cheek and brushing a thumb tenderly at the corner of your eye. He’s even angrier at Chuck for making you doubt yourself…and doubt him.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says.

You hesitate, but you go willingly back into his arms. You turn over and let him gather you against his chest. You rest against him. Your head tucks under his chin, and your leg slips between both of his.

“I love you,” he says, and his voice rumbles above your head. “That’s it. That’s all that matters.”

You bite your lip. “But—”

“No buts,” he says. Though his lips slowly tug at a smile. “Well, not that kind anyway.”

He gives your bare ass a playful squeeze under the sheets. You huff in amusement and swat him back.

“Ya, coño. Enough,” you say with a laugh. “I probably have bruises back there.”

He just grins. “So you get what I’m saying?”

You let out a sigh. You push back enough to see his face, and you give him a soft smile.

“Yeah.”

Dean nods, but he still sees the worry in your eyes. He tries to stamp down the rest of your insecurities with a kiss, slow and deep.

You break away from him after a while to ask, “Ready for coffee?”

Dean sighs through his nose, but he hums in agreement.

“Will you make it how I like?” he asks.

A smile breaks across your face.

“Café con leche?” you offer.

He nods. “Yeah, please.”

“So polite,” you remark with a raised brow. “What a change of pace.”

His mouth edges into a smirk. When you turn to get out of bed, he makes sure to give your ass one last smack. You jump a little with a yelp, but he catches your smile in the mirror above the dresser.

Dean watches you shake out your curls and get ready for the day. You spend a lot of time blow-drying and straightening your hair, but he likes it like this too. Natural and wild.

He likes that you wear the “dream catcher” (formerly known as your hole-ridden Journey shirt) a lot less. He likes that you’ve stopped feeling the need to wear anything to bed at all, if you don't feel like it; that you’re more comfortable with yourself. Comfortable with him.

But your smile drops. Dean sees the gears of your mind continuing to churn as you get dressed.

He has a feeling, despite his best efforts, that you’re still not convinced about the Chuck thing. And while Dean won’t admit it, that cuts him deep.

Three years ago…

Las Cruces, New Mexico

The first time Dean met you was, of course, in a bar.

It didn’t take all that long for him to notice you, if he remembers right.

You’d agreed to play pool with some guy who also speaks Spanish with you, and you seem genuinely into the game. So much so, that you don’t seem to notice how the guy is eyeing you.

Dean doesn’t like the way the man’s gaze drags over your every abundant curve. Yeah, he’s been doing the same thing, but he likes to think he’s a little more classy about it.

He’s sitting at the bar with a half-drunk beer in his hand, watching the game out of the corner of his eye. He’s so invested that his beer is already flat and unpleasant, but when has that stopped him before?

…But then, Dean notices what you’re doing. You’re playing possum, making bad shots on purpose. His mouth curves behind his beer.

Little minx.

Until you sweep the guy for all his money, that is.

Dean watches the show in amusement. Secretly, he notes appreciation for the tight jeans, V-necked top and ankle boots. The red lipstick is the same shade as your manicured nails, and it all works well for you. The fullness of that pretty mouth would certainly work well for him.

He catches the way you sweep your hair out of the way, and the deceptive concentration in your eyes when you line up a shot on the second round. Your first turn.

You then sink each of your cue balls expertly, without missing one.

The swindled man gets mad, shouting at you in Spanish. You reply to him calmly as you lean on your cue stick. He gets even louder and reaches for the money, but before Dean would’ve intervened, you stab at the man’s foot with the cue.

Your quick and clever hand gathers the money that you won, but because you seem to be kind at your core, you leave him thirty bucks for “gasolina” while he holds his foot.

You surprise Dean further by joining him at the bar.

“Good game,” he says, giving you props with a smile.

You give him a smile back. “Thank you. Want to join me for another one?”

Your English is smooth, and so is your voice. Dean raises a brow at you.

“Even though I saw your little takedown there?” he asks. “Think I just saw all your moves.”

You laugh a little. “Not all of them.”

Was that a bit of flirtation in your eyes? Dean’s smile deepens into a smirk.

“But don’t worry,” you say. “I know how to play fair.”

He hits you with a bit of charm, lowering his voice with (he thinks) just the right amount of flirtation back.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

Your smile deepens too, despite your blush.

Cute, he thinks, before he follows you back to the scene of the crime. AKA: the nearest pool table.

Dean wracks up the billiards and sets up a new game. You hand him his cue, and he gestures at you.

“Winner goes first,” he says graciously.

“Hmm, thought you were gonna say ladies first,” you reply.

“That too,” Dean says. “I’m a gentleman, after all.”

You snort in response. “I’m sure you are…”

“Dean,” he supplies. He earns your name by the time he sinks four balls in a row.

You sigh as you level him with a look. You seem to realize that the two of you are more than evenly matched.

“Don’t worry,” he says, shooting you a grin. “I won’t take all your money.”

And yet, when it gets down to it, he misses his last shot by a hair.

You watch him suspiciously when you two make it back to the bar.

“You wouldn’t have thrown that last shot on purpose, would you?” you ask.

Dean ducks his head and smiles, somewhat liking the fact that you caught him red-handed. You’re smart.

“Now, what kind of gentleman would I be to take your ‘hard-earned’ cash?” he asks. It earns a burst of laughter from you, with the shine of your teeth.

“You could buy me a beer though,” he shrugs.

“Wow. Okay, Señor Smooth,” you tease. Though you get the bartender’s attention and get him a fifth of whiskey instead, of the good stuff too.

Dean considers asking you out right there. Sam is waiting back at the motel, but Dean is willing to book another room just to get you to himself for the night. And if possible, for however long he’s in town.

“You know,” you say after a while, halfway through your Long Island iced tea. “The thing you’re hunting? It’s not a garden variety spirit…it’s El Duende. Creepy hobgoblin, basically. I’ve been tracking it from three cities over.”

Dean is figuratively (and almost literally) set back on his heels. He tilts his head at you, furrowing his brows.

“You’re a hunter?” he asks.

You laugh at the look on his face. “I saw you and another mountain man at the police station earlier…though nice look on the FBI get up. Think your ID guy could hook me up with a new CIA badge?”

Dean smiles. This is gonna be fun.

Now:

People were starting to disappear.

Billie, the new Death, was doing this. Dean was convinced. And Sam thought everyone from the Apocalypse world (and others who shouldn’t exist in this world) would be on her list. Ultimately, you all couldn’t save anyone. Not even Eileen.

You and Dean both comforted Sam on that terrible night. Though he was still distraught as he decided to organize the other refugees with Jack and Donna.

You stuck with Dean in his plan to raid Death’s library for Chuck’s book; the only thing in the world that told the story of how he would meet his end.

You chose to back up Dean in his plan, but really, neither you or Castiel thought it was a good idea to poke the bear known as Billie. Not for a book that none of you could read, except for Death herself.

But now here you are, in Death’s library, watching with worry as Dean holds Death’s own scythe against her.

“I didn’t hurt your friends,” Billie grits out.

“What?” Dean asks.

She laughs humorlessly. “You’re in the wrong place, Dean.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“People are gettin’ gone. I’m guessing it’s Chuck,” she says. “And that means, you’re just wasting time.”

Her hands are braced against the weapon poised at her throat. She already has a stab wound in her shoulder. She tells him that the earlier wound he gave her has festered. It’ll never heal. Eventually, it’ll kill her.

But she intends to take you, Dean, and Castiel with her.

Billie becomes the hunter, following the three of you back through the portal into the bunker. Dean’s hand is so tight around your arm, making sure you’re keeping up with him and never falter. Castiel does his best get you and Dean to safety. And after he wards it against her with his own blood, only the old dungeon is safe for you all.

For now.

Billie pounds on the door, over and over. She’ll break through the warding eventually.

You grab onto Dean’s sleeve, just to hold onto him. He brings you close to him in a protective embrace. You see the panic in his eyes as his mind scrambles to find a way out of here, knowing deep down that there’s nothing any of you can do. Castiel is nearly powerless. You’re all trapped.

“That wound is killing her,” Cas says. “We might be able to wait her out.”

His gaze is on the floor, though he briefly looks up at Dean. He shakes his head.

“And if we can’t?”

“Then we fight.”

Dean shakes his head. He pulls away from you to lean against the wall.

“We’ll lose,” he says. Your heart breaks at the way he looks, shame-ridden and defeated. “I just led us into another trap…all because I couldn’t end Chuck. Because I was angry, and because I needed something to kill, and because that’s all I know how to do.”

His eyes are red and burning. Yours swim with tears of dismay. You want to correct him as he continues to vent, speaking with a certainty that it was Chuck all along.

Dean looks at you then, and at Cas. He’s close to tears when he says they should’ve stayed with Sam and Jack. That everyone was about to die. And he can’t stop it. And he can’t stop Billie when she breaks through that door.

You don’t know what to tell him to ease his guilt. All you know is that despite everything, you made your choice to support him in this. To stay with him.

You made your choice a long time ago, you realize.

“Wait,” Cas says. His blue eyes burn with realization. “There’s one thing she’s afraid of. One thing…strong enough to stop her.”

Dean’s eyes widen. Cas uses what strength he has left to push you and Dean away, and he summons the Empty.

Dean pulls you further along with him as the formless void coils up like ink through the walls and cement floors. It drags Billie into its darkness, but it claims Castiel with it, as it once promised it would.

After the angel gives up his life, you and Dean are holding each other against the wall, on the ground, shaking and each rocked to the core.

You’re able to break out of your shock sooner than Dean, who just saw his best friend die.

You kneel beside him while he sits, and you hold him to you while you cry. He can’t speak, but you know his guilt is eating at him.

His phone rings, startling you both, and it’s Sam. Dean can’t answer it. He covers his face, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, as if that could stop the ache in his chest. You press a kiss to his hair, his temple.

“He saved us, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you tell him. He shakes his head. You know he doesn’t believe you, but when he grasps your arm, his hold is desperate.

“It’s me,” he says. His voice is shaking and ragged. “Everything I do turns to shit. Everyone around me pays the price. That’s just how it is…if you were smart, you’d hightail it as far as fucking possible from me.”

Your breath gets trapped in your lungs. Your heart feels like it’s shattering.

“Dean…baby, look at me,” you say with a sniffle. You gently hold his face, and he lets you raise him up. Your eyes are bright with new conviction.

“No one," you tell him, "not even Chuck can force me to love you the way I do. And not a damn thing can stop me from staying with you.”

Dean has tears burgeoning in his eyes. You caress his cheek, rough with stubble he’s let go too long.

“There’s a saying. Al mal tiempo, buena cara,” you tell him. His face shows a glimmer of confusion. “At bad weather, put on a happy face. It means even in difficult times, there’s still a reason to keep going. Right now, you are my reason.”

Dean considers that. He squeezes your arms unconsciously, as if grounding himself in you.

At the very least, he’s grateful that he’s not alone. And after a moment, he nods. You press a kiss to his cheek, and then his forehead. His eyes close at your comfort, your affection. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he accepts it anyway.

“Come on, let’s get you off the floor,” you say. You start to help him up…but your body stills. You feel a strange prickling across your skin.

Dean notices the shift, with growing unease in his gut. He grips you tighter and calls your name in concern.

Your gasp is the last bit of your voice that Dean hears before he watches you turn to dust in his arms.

Buena Cara

Last year…

It’s the morning after you and Dean shared a midnight espresso. The morning after your first kiss, your first confession, and your first time.

He wakes tangled up in you, and the sheets, which are somehow tied up in knots around his legs and yours.

“What’d you do here, woman?” he asks.

His voice is still gruff with sleep, and he lays on his stomach. You giggle almost silently next to him. You’re lying on your back with the sheets somehow covering up to your chest. One of your legs is tangled with his.

“Nothing,” you claim. He snorts and moves closer. His lips find your shoulder, lazily burning a path downwards. But when he grips the sheet and tries to expose more of you, you grasp his wrist on reflex.

Brows furrowing, Dean glances up at your face. You’re biting your lip, and he sees signs of insecurity in your eyes.

“You haven’t seen me in the daytime yet,” you joke. Yet another one that isn’t really a joke, Dean realizes.

He really wishes he could find your goddamn ex and bash his skull in. Because Dean would like nothing more than to just spend the rest of the day in this bed, mapping out the smooth expanse of your tan skin.

So he slips his arm underneath you. You utter a little squeal in protest, but he manhandles you until you’re resting on his chest, bare skin against bare skin. You look down at him with fondness, touching his cheek. Dean stares up at you with a reserved frown.

“What’s it gonna take, huh?” he asks. It’s like you don’t believe he wants you, even now.

You bite your lip as your fears creep in behind your eyes, like black ink coiling in your mind. That he just likes your personality. That maybe he just wanted to try something “different” with you, a thicc-thighed, fat-assed Latina, instead of the petite, slender girls you’ve seen him go after in bars.

“You could have anyone, Dean,” you point out.

Dean’s frown deepens, his brows furrowing. His hands lower on your back, squeezing the curve of your waist and soft hips.

“Anyone’s not naked in my bed,” he says. His voice is stern and matter-of-fact.

You attempt a smile, but he’s not convinced. He blows out a breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your ex sure did a number on you, didn’t he?” he remarks.

Your eyes widen. The more you think about it, maybe he did.

But maybe it wasn’t just him…

You tear up and blink against them, trying not to let them fall. You had thought you were happy with your curves. You really did.

You didn’t realize you had internalized so many of these negative thoughts about yourself, but here Dean was, forcing you to confront them. You’re grateful, but you also don’t know what to say.

Dean’s brows draw together. He holds your cheek.

“Okay. It’s all right. We’ll work on it.” He kisses your forehead. He also wipes a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, baby.”

A laugh gets choked in your throat. “You should know this about me by now. I’m a crier.”

“Yeah, you’re also rockin’ a bit of sex hair,” he says, tangling his fingers further in the wily strands. “My kinda woman.”

You sigh through your nose. This man.

You can’t help but smile softly. The tip of your finger traces his jawline, down to his chin.

“Want me to make some coffee?” you offer. “I can have you try a cortadito with breakfast.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

“Two shots of espresso, warm frothy milk on top,” you reply.

“God, two shots? It’s a wonder you ever sleep,” he quips. “But I do like the sound of frothy. I’ll whip us up some eggs.”

“And bacon?” you ask.

“Of freakin’ course, bacon.”

With that agreement, you two slowly get out of bed, shower, and go to the kitchen, where Sam looks bleary-eyed and annoyed at the kitchen table with his coffee mug. But he doesn’t have it in his heart to truly be mad at you and Dean.

“I’m happy for you guys,” Sam says wryly. “Just, next time, put a sock on the door or something. So I know when to break out the ear plugs.”

Now:

Sam finds Dean sprawled on the dining room floor the next morning after Castiel has died, and you have disappeared, along with everyone else on Earth.

Dean is surrounded by empty beer and liquor bottles. Sam’s heart clenches as he starts to help his brother.

“All right, let’s get you off the floor,” he says.

In his words, Dean only hears your voice. He shoves Sam off him and stumbles into the kitchen.

There Jack is starting to wash dishes. He takes your little cafetera coffee maker from the stove, preparing to dump the old grounds. Dean grabs it out of his hand.

“Leave it alone,” Dean snaps. He slams it back on the stove where you left it.

Jack is wide-eyed, but Sam gives his brother a patient warning with his eyes. Dean ignores it and heads for his room.

“Sorry,” Sam says on behalf of his brother.

Jack shakes his head with tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, I…I understand.”

He already misses you too. You’d become a kind of older sister to him…and Castiel. Well. Cas was the father Jack will never have again.

Sam agrees with a nod, clapping Jack comfortingly on the back.

Sam ventures down the long halls of the bunker to Dean’s room. He pushes the cracked open door, and sees his brother sat hunched on the edge of his bed, hands bracing on his knees.

Sam walks in, swings Dean’s desk chair around, and sits down across from his brother. He rests his forearms on his knees and waits.

When Dean eventually looks up with red-rimmed eyes, Sam’s heart breaks a little more. For Dean, and for himself.

“We’re going to end this,” Sam promises him.

“We tried to give Chuck what he fucking wanted,” Dean reminds. “We offered to end ourselves, man. He wouldn’t bite. He won’t bring ‘em back.”

Dean’s voice cracks at the end there. Sam takes a deep breath, and lets it out just as slowly.

“We’ll figure out a way,” he says. “We always do.”

“That’s just it,” Dean says, with tired, glassy eyes. “I don’t think we can do it this time.”

Sam’s throat tightens. “Then I’ll believe for both of us.”

By the time Chuck is done snapping his fingers, Sam, Dean, and Jack are the only people left on Earth.

Until they encounter the Michael of this world, formerly trapped in the cage. They hatch a plan. And even though the angels don’t cooperate, they manage to play straight into the real plan.

Jack is the ace up Team Free Will’s sleeve, and as it turns out, that bomb inside the kid (made of the first Adam’s rib) was good for something. The nephilim absorbs the power of Lucifer, Michael, and ultimately Chuck himself.

Jack is the one who saves the world.

Before Dean leaves with his brother and Jack, away from that grassy cliffside in Lebanon, he turns to Chuck.

“Answer me this. Did you…” Dean says, struggling with how to formulate his question. “Meeting my girl. Was that us? Or was it just another manipulation?”

Sam watches his brother with concern. He sees the way Dean’s hand is already itching for his gun. Chuck is human now, and Sam knows how tempting it would be to truly end it.

Chuck himself is still prone on the ground, sitting up with wariness behind his eyes.

“I didn’t tug on that thread, actually,” he admits. “Made sense to let you have a glimmer of happiness, something to hold onto. To fight for.”

Then he looks up at Dean with a tremulous smirk pulling at his lips.

“But I did wait for the perfect moment to dust her, didn’t I?”

Within seconds, Dean’s gun is slipping into his hands with the safety cocked back, the barrel lined up for a straight shot between Chuck’s eyes. Sam barks a warning, but Dean doesn’t altogether care. He’s furious, sneering at the former god who cowers like the coward he is.

“Dean?” Sam calls to him. It’s a question and a warning all at once.

Dean’s mouth works, quirking at a humorless smile. He cocks the safety back in place and lowers his gun with a shaking hand.

He stalks back to the Impala and doesn’t look at his brother.

The only three people left alive in the world ride back into the empty streets of Lebanon, Kansas.

When Jack snaps his fingers, it’s like this little planet is reborn.

Suddenly, it’s filled with life. People walking their dogs, their kids, hailing cabs, nearly rear-ending each other’s cars in traffic while texting. It’s like the chaos never happened, and equilibrium is restored.

Even the shaggy dog Dean found last week bounds up to him. He bends down to pet the dog’s furry head, scratching behind his ears. Dean’s going to actually have to come up with a name for this thing now.

And yet…

In a world full of color, Dean still just sees gray.

He and Sam say a bittersweet goodbye to Jack, who ascends into Heaven. Dean can only hope the kid has a good WiFi signal if they ever need him again, like if he can’t find…

The forgotten cell phone in his pocket buzzes on a ring. He shares a wide-eyed look with Sam, licking his dry lips before he reaches into his jean pocket. He flips the phone over and finds your name across his caller ID.

With a shaking hand, he swipes his thumb across the green button and raises the phone up to his ear. He can’t even make his voice work right away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to.

“Dean?” your beautiful voice greets him.

His lips pull at a tremulous smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You let out a relieved breath.

“Oh, thank God. I’m here at the bunker. Where are you?”

Dean wants to quip that Chuck had nothing to do with it, but he humors you.

“Not too far,” he says. He gestures to a smiling Sam, and together they haul ass back to the Impala.

“Promise?” you ask. Dean grins.

“I’ll be home before you know it.”

Once again, you’re tangled up in the bed you share with Dean. Almost every morning without fail, he teasingly grumbles as he tries to free his legs from the knotted sheets.

“What the hell did you do here, woman?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you refute. Though your giggle betrays your guilt while he continues to struggle. “You’ll just have to stay in bed then.”

You drag him back to you, and it’s not unpleasant to be welcomed back to the soft warmth of your body.

“We’ve got some monsters waiting,” he reminds you.

“They can wait,” you say, and ply him with a lazy morning kiss. It heats up in passion as your hands slide under his shirt…

But of course, one of said “monsters” predictably starts banging at the bedroom door. It opens a crack, revealing a head of light brown hair and tearful hazel eyes.

“Mo-oooom! Cari keeps hitting me after you told her not to,” cries your son.

His older sister stomps behind him, so he ducks into the room to flee from her, heading for the bed and jumping into your arms.

Dean sighs, hiding his disappointment. You give him a secret smile while brushing back your son’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. To Dean, you gesture with your eyes at the doorway, where your nine-year-old daughter peeks in. She eyes her little brother in annoyance.

Tattletale, her face says.

“Caridad,” you call to her in your sterner mom voice. “Come here, please.”

Cari is most definitely a daddy’s girl, and she beelines for her father. He picks up the nine year old and settles her on the bed, tucked into his side.

“Robbie’s a crybaby,” she says.

“No, you are!” Robbie cries indignantly. He tries to push her, but you grab his hand and push it down to the bed. Dean has to do the same with Cari when she tries to pinch her brother.

“All right, all right, enough,” Dean says, with all the authority his own father once had. “Can’t we all just have one morning in peace?”

That’s when Dean’s phone rings on his nightstand. He sighs and answers it, and it’s Sam, asking what time you and Dean plan to come over his house today for the Fourth of July barbecue.

“Give me a couple hours to wrangle the kids,” Dean replies. He has to curl an arm around Cari so she won’t throw another pillow at her brother.

“Tell Eileen I’m bringing the dessert,” you chime in, calling to Sam in the phone.

“You got that?” Dean asks his brother. A moment later, he reports back to you with a nod.

“He’s wanting the fluffy cake thing,” Dean says. “The sweet one with the lil’ cherries on top.”

“Tres leches?” you supply with a smile.

He nods again. “Yeah, that one.”

“Not a problem, but let’s get them cleaned up so I can start baking,” you say. Though you grunt as a small bare foot kicks at your side.

“Hey!” you reach for your daughter’s arm. “Ya, that’s enough. Te calmas, o te calmo. Los dos, coño.”

Dean snorts, watching his children now wrestling each other in the middle of the bed despite your best efforts to keep them apart.

“Easier said than done,” he mutters. He hangs up with Sam and then surveys the familiar chaos in front of him.

“All right, you guys want to see your cousins?” Dean bribes. The kids actually pause and perk up at that.

“We’re going to Uncle Sammy’s house?” Cari asks.

“Yep, so quit screwin’ around. Let’s up and at ‘em,” Dean says. “Brush your teeth and wash your face, then meet me downstairs for breakfast.”

“Can we have Cap’n Crunch?” Robbie asks.

“No, Raisin Bran,” Cari insists. You have to laugh a little, reaching out to stroke her cheek. Your daughter surely is a special sort of child for genuinely liking Raisin Bran.

“Fine,” Dean agrees to both with a nod. “Get to it. Come on, let’s go!”

He claps his hands until the kids are up and out of his bed, running to the door.

“Don’t run!” you warn them. “Caridad Marie Winchester, stop pushing your brother, or you’re not going anywhere.”

The door hangs open as the sounds of small feet patter down the hall, accompanied by childish giggling and yelling. You sigh and lean back into the pillows, closing your eyes.

“I’m already tired. Why did we have two of those?”

Dean smirks and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. You keep him close with a hand in his shirt.

“If I remember right, having the first one was so much fun, you just couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he teases.

“Is that what happened? I seem to remember some tequila and cajoling involved,” you smirk, cracking your eyes open. You pull him to you and kiss him thoroughly.

Both of you try not to lose track of time, but in the ten years since retiring from hunting, learning how to be civilians, true partners, and parents, you’ve become pros at stealing the small moments for yourselves.

“Come on, babe. Don’t you want Cari to have a little bro?” you mock in his deeper voice. “They’ll protect each other, be each other’s best friends.”

Dean chuckles at your interpretation of him, giving a teasing yank to one of your stray curls.

“They will, one day. Sam and I didn’t really get each other until later on.”

You smile at that and raise your hand to the beard he’s trying to grow out. You remember him teasing Sam for sporting a “ferret” on his face, once upon a time. But it seems that both Winchester brothers are well-suited to the lumberjack look.

“Maybe we can get Sam and Eileen to keep the kids tonight,” Dean suggests.

You like the sound of that. Cari and Robbie take any chance for a sleepover with their cousins.

You run a hand down his chest. “You’re saying I’m going to get all this to myself tonight?”

He grabs your hand and kisses it. His gaze holds a familiar heat that makes you smile. Your fingers wiggle teasingly in his grip, which curves his lips as well. Your wedding rings gleam in the lamplight.

We don’t have time now, but we will later, his gaze promises.

So with a sigh, he releases your hand.

“All right, lazy. Time to get a move on,” he teases. He then points at you. “Good face.”

Buena cara. Your smile deepens as you start to rise out of bed. It’s become his thing with you, starting the day with a good face.

Nowadays, you don’t often have a reason not to.

“I’ll make coffee,” you offer, as you do most mornings. The one time Dean tried to make it your way, he burned the bottom of your coffee press.

He tosses you a smirk as he pulls on a new shirt. He then digs in his side of the dresser for a pair of jeans that don’t have jelly stains, imprinted on with small fingers.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he agrees. “I think today’s a two-shot kinda morning. What do you think?”

You sidle up behind him at the dresser and swat him on the ass. He jolts a little, making a rumbling sound as he eyes you in your little black nightgown. It’s a warning, not to start something you two won’t have time to finish.

“Sounds about right.” Bracing your hands on his hips, you lean up on your toes so you can rest your chin on his shoulder, meeting his eyes in the mirror. You smile.

“Two cortaditos coming up.”

AN: Aaaand I am soft. 🥹 I've been wanting to get to this for a while now. If you like it, let me know! ❤️

Some more Spanish translations for ya:

This is a callback from "Devour Me" with “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez.

Devórame otra vez, ven, devórame otra vez… Que la boca me sabe a tu cuerpo. Desesperan mis ganas por ti…

Translation:

"Devour me again. Come, devour me again…

Because my mouth has the taste of your body. My lust for you is exasperating."

“Te calmas, o te calmo. Los dos, coño.”

Translation:

“Calm down, or I’ll calm you down. Both of you, damn it.” [😂 I think every Latina mom has spouted this at least once lol.]

Read From the Beginning:

Want to go back to the beginning of this series? Start with "Midnight Espresso":

Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.

▶️ First Story: Midnight Espresso

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

327 notes · View notes

melloween-candie · 1 year

Text

Study session [C.G]

Carl Gallagher x Reader

Summary

Carl really liked Y/n, and he thought that Y/n liked him too. So, he somewhat forces himself on them, and they get a bit uncomfortable. He ends up kissing them, and they pull away. Y/n is a kindhearted individual who isn't used to getting much attention because they're pretty shy. So, when the teacher asked them to help a fellow student with their studies, they couldn't say no.

A/N - The reader's gender doesn't matter in this story, so you guys can decide for yourselves. :)

Warning: Name calling, Uncomfortable, Misunderstanding

Word count: 1,440

[Angst/Fluff]

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

"Is it six?"

"Five, Carl, the answer is five." Carl's face shifted to a slight frown as he shifted in his seat.

It has been nearly three hours since you arrived at the Gallaghers' household.

"Hey, don't worry." You placed your hand on Carl's shoulder. "You're getting better."

You started cramming your notes back into your bookbag. "Seriously, Carl. Maybe you might actually pass 10th grade."

He smirked. Shoving your shoulder lightly as you giggled.

"Leaving so soon?" Carl asked, tilting his head smirkingly.

"Like always, out by eight." You said as you placed your bookbag on your shoulders.

"Can't you stay a little longer?"

You looked at Carl as if he was insane.

"You know my curfew's ten. Anything past that without a 24-hour notice for my parents, I might as well be digging my own grave."

"Come on! You still got an hour!"

"Thirty minutes. It takes thirty minutes for me to walk ho-"

"Ten more minutes, then I'll walk you home."

"What are we even going to do?"

You were exhausted nonetheless. Tutoring three different people each week can really fill in your schedule.

"I don't know. Something fun? Come on! Losen up a bit. Bend the rules a little!" Carl stood in front of you. Barely three inches away from your face. "Come on, let's go to my room. I want to show you something."

Quick skip! ~ Into Carl's bedroom!

"So, what'd you want to show me?"

"This."

Carl pulled a piece of paper out of his drawer. Showing it with pride.

"Wha- Carl!" You grabbed the paper out of his hands. "You didn't tell me you had a test!"

"And I aced it too."

"And why do you even have me as a tutor?" You leaned into his face, teasingly scrunching your nose at him. "I'm proud of you!"

"Thanks." He smiled proudly.

Carl placed his hands in his pockets as he held his shoulder high. He lowered his head as he looked at you with a smirk. Carl swayed closer to you. "I wanted to prove to you that I'm not as stupid as those other kids you tutor."

And by those other kids, he means Chuck and some other random loser.

"Oh, Carl. I never thought you were stupid." You said, shaking your head slightly. Looking up at him. His chest was barely touching yours.

Carl slowly tilted his head as he lowered it- closer to yours. He looked at your lips, then back to your eyes. As he slowly closed his. His hands slowly but softly cupped your checks. Keeping your head firm. Your heart jumped when you realized what he was about to do. Your lips barely grazed each other before you pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" You asked him. You were a bit shaken by his sudden act.

Let's just say that Carl was a bit taken aback by your action.

"Wha-What do you mean?" He asked with a hint of nervousness in his tone.

"Carl what kind of relationship do you think we have...?"

'I..."

"I should go."

You gave him back his test paper as you quickly left his room. Leaving him to contemplate his choices.

Time skip!~

The next day was a little awkward... You quickly noticed how Carl's behavior changed every time you entered a room. He was tense, always trying to leave. He didn't even bother to attend today's session.

Clearly, there was a problem, and the guilt was eating you alive.

You didn't mean to make things awkward with him. You like Carl... a lot! You just panicked... You weren't used to being treated like that. You never even had a boyfriend before and never really gave that idea much thought.

The next day you sat outside eating lunch when you saw Carl and his buddy Nick walk out the school door. You placed your food down and quickly tried to catch up to them. You wanted to fix things.

Nick saw you running towards him and Carl, and he quickly tapped Carl's shoulder.

"Hm?" He turned his head just enough to see you running.

His heart started pounding as his cheeks began to turn pink. He turned his head, hiding his embarrassment from Nick.

"H-Hey..."

"Hey." Said Carl with his hands in his pockets.

"So, uh... You didn't show up for our last session; why?"

"I had some stuff I needed to finish... You know, business."

"Oh, ok, umm... Are you gonna be there tonight? My place? We have a test coming up for Government."

Carl looked at Nick then back at you. We'll be there."

Usually, Carl would never let Nick in your guy's sessions. He would always tell him to wait in a different room, or if you guys were studying somewhere other than in his house, he would just have him stay home. But this time, it was different.

Time skip~

You were currently organizing your desk. It's been a while since you and Carl studied there. Usually, you guys would study in Carl's room.

Finally, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" You yelled.

You opened the front door to see Carl holding his bookbag and his friend Nick who doesn't talk much.

"Hey, your late."

You were never a fan of tardiness. Being raised the way you were, you always thought it was rude, and you knew he knew that about you too.

"Yeah, well, we got caught up in something. Anyways let's get this over with, yeah?"

Carl was clearly giving attitude. You weren’t a huge fan of that, but you hoped you still had a chance to explain yourself during the session.

Anyways, the three of you all headed towards your room.

"Umm... Is Nick joining us this time?"

"Yeah!" He spat. "Nick's tired of always being left out. Said he wanted to learn things too."

"Right..."

You knew that Carl had a bit of a bad boy reputation, but he never intimidated you or made you feel small before. At least not until that point.

"Ok, let's get started..."

You and Carl both sat at the desk. Pencils out and notebooks open. Meanwhile, Nick just stood there hovering over you both.

You couldn't really focus well and surprisingly Carl started correcting you-

"It's five Y/n. Remember? We did this question yesterday."

"O-oh, right." You quickly erased your answer. Fixing it.

Two hours passed, and it felt like an eternity for you. You couldn't stand sitting quietly there with him anymore... So, you spoke.

"Hey, sorry, I know we're in the middle of this question, but can we talk... in private?" You whispered the last part.

Carl sighed and signaled Nick to leave the room. He seemed annoyed.

"So, what'd you want to talk about."

"Umm... about our last session..."

"I told you I had something I-"

"No- I mean..." You closed your eyes and inhaled some air.

You were never good with confrontation, even if it was you doing it. No matter if you did something wrong or the other way around. It always made you nervous.

"What about it." Carl spat.

"I-I'm sorry. If I did something wrong. Don't get the wrong idea. I- I do like you, Carl." You closed your eyes. "I just wasn't expecting that. I didn't want to destroy our friendship, and I was just scared. I- I never kissed anyway before..." You looked at him, head hung low. "I'm sorry."

Right then and there, that sparkle Carl lost returned to his eyes. As his face shifted into a smirk. Of course, he tried not to show it.

He cupped his hand on your cheek and wiped away your tears. The room soon went quiet, as Carl once again grabbed ahold of your face.

You once again started panicking as Carl's face got closer… He tilted his head once again. Closing his eyes- Your face soon turned red as he closed the gap between your lips.

And there you have it. You two kissed. It only lasted for a minute, but it felt like forever. Time froze right there and then. It felt so magical to you. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and you just sitting there, frozen as he moved his lips on yours. Your cheeks were so red that you were a whole tomato by the time you two were done.

When he pulled away, you were a bashful mess. Stuttering everywhere.

"I- I-ah-"

"Shh... quiet down, angel." Said Carl as he placed his lips on yours once again. You frozed once again, but this time you closed your eyes tightly.

Two seconds later, the door burst open.

"Y/n! Who the hel-!?"

Your father came in...

"CARLLLLL!"

A/n

I hope you guys liked it. I wanted to keep it cute and simple after all; this was the first fanfic I wrote on here. Can you believe it!? Also, this was supposed to be gender-neutral, so if you see a mistake, just let me know! Follow for more~! 💕

#fanfiction #misunderstanding #discomfort #teenage romance #shy reader #tutor #high school #shameless #carl gallagher #carl gallagher x reader #gallaghers #shameless us #drama #gender friendly #misunderstood #uncomfortable #high school au #gender friendly reader #any gender

648 notes · View notes

stratossphere · 2 years

Text

the bonfire. | j.k

the tension between you and knoxville builds. a lot. set in mid-2003.

word count: 5.6k

warnings: a lot of drinking and smoking (reader is described as a stoner), mentions of age gap, smut, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, knoxville’s dirty mouth in general

"I'm telling you, I don't want to fuck him." You said, an amused expression on your face as you passed the spliff you were smoking over to Bam. You had been on this topic for almost an hour now on and off, and for some reason you just couldn't seem convincing.

"Dude, we all know you do. Just get it over with and tell us if it was good or not." He scoffed, taking a second to suck in a hit before he continued. "The dude has a huge hard-on for you anyway, so might as well shoot your shot."

"I know he has a huge hard-on for me. I'm just...too lazy to deal with that." You groaned as you sunk down in your camp chair. You’d all been sitting at a bonfire outside of someone's friend's house for over two hours now, and you were getting kind of bored. Bam and Ryan had flown in from Pennsylvania the day before, so you were trying to get as much time as possible in with them before they had to leave again, but sometimes they made it hard.

"You're just scared you can't pull him." Bam scoffed, handing the joint back and then dramatically turning in his chair to glance over to where Johnny was. "Although, he's pretty old compared to us."

"I could absolutely pull him. All I'd have to do is bend over in front of him and he'd be barking like a dog." You scoffed, elbowing him not-so-gently. "And who cares if he's older? He acts like he's fucking five."

"So you do want to fuck him." Bam called you out like it wasn't already obvious. "Dude, I'm serious. Go pull your little bend over routine and get out of here. It's physically hurting me to watch you guys anymore."

"Watch us? We barely even talk!" You protested, downing the last of your can of beer before turning back to Bam. "He's not that hard to pull. Remember when that girl kissed his neck and he was blushing like a girl and had to put a pillow in his lap? Easy money."

"Yo! Dunn! C'mere!" Great. Now Bam was bringing another person into this. And, of course, Ryan looked more than happy to drop down in the camp chair across from you. Bam smacked your arm. "We're debating whether or not Y/n’s got enough game to fuck Knoxville."

"Dude, totally. He's like, rock hard for you already." Ryan scoffed, cracking open another beer as he spoke. "You got the guts, though?"

"You know what? You two are assholes." You scoffed, crushing your beer can and tossing it at Ryan's feet. "Watch this shit."

You turned in your chair, looking around and trying to find Johnny again. He'd disappeared from his position next to the ping pong table that Ehren and Steve-O were destroying, and it took you a second to locate him crouched down in front of one of the beer coolers. Perfect.

"Knoxville!" You shouted loudly enough to draw his attention, watching his head crane back in your direction with his sunglasses still sat perfectly on top of his head. It had gotten too dark for him to be able to see properly with them on, so he'd ditched them about half an hour ago. "Can you grab me one?"

"What kind you want?" He shouted back, holding up both Budweiser and PBR. Steve-O had definitely been in charge of beer supply, because all there seemed to be was pisswater for choices. You motioned to his left hand that held the Budweiser, and watched him chuck the other can back into the cooler before kicking it back shut.

"If you two say anything, I'm gonna tell Tremaine to have you shot with paintballs for weeks." You warned quickly as Johnny started his way over, jabbing a finger at each of them individually. You were really praying they didn't mess up your game, because Johnny was going to make it into a huge thing if they did.

"Who? We're not even here." Ryan said dramatically, pretending to zip his lips and throw the key in the fire seconds before Johnny was behind your chair holding the beer over your shoulder.

"You three sharing secrets and braiding each other's hair over here?" He cajoled as he pressed the cold can into your neck, making you wince as he came around the side of your chair and plopped into the empty one that was to your right. "I feel left out."

"Thanks, J." The little nickname lingered on your lips as you took the can from his offering hand, your fingers brushing his as you did so. You watched his eyes stick to yours momentarily, and you could tell that what you were doing was so easily working. Like picking up sticks.

"Fuck off, Knoxville. You don't have enough hair to braid." Bam scoffed, extending his foot across you to kick his friend in the leg. You pushed him away, shooting him a look to kill as you leaned back in your chair slightly.

"We're smoking, if you want some." You offered, motioning to the new joint that Ryan was rolling as we spoke. Johnny shook his head, cracking his beer tab and letting out a gentle sigh.

"On a break right now. I'm sticking to...other things." He said vaguely, putting his feet up on the same empty chair that you currently had yours on. Oh yeah. Easy money.

"Ooh. Other things. My favorite." Bam snorted, as if this conversation was hilarious to him. You shot him another dirty look, and he seemed to take the hint, standing up and wiping his hands off on the legs of his black jeans. "Well, I'm gonna go do something more fucking interesting. Dunn, care to join?"

"Sure, man. I've been hanging out with Y/n way too fucking long, anyway." Ryan scoffed, getting up with the joint still in his hand. You glared at him and held your hand out.

"Leave the weed, fuckhead." You ordered, watching him sigh before dropping the perfectly-rolled joint in the palm of your hand. You then watched them walk away to where they could still watch both of you before turning your attention back to Johnny. "Well? What does 'other things' entail?"

"Nothing heavier than cigs and beer. The way god intended." He sighed, reaching down to grab your lighter off the ground and then handing it over to you.

"What're you taking a break for?" He was kind of making you feel guilty for smoking in front of him, but he was the one that had chosen to drop down right next to the world's biggest stoner.

"Recovery. I feel like I haven't slept for days." He sighed, letting out a slight chuckle as he reached into his back pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. "So. After this, you think you'll be willing to do more stunts?" Huh. Maybe not easy money.

"You want me to do stunts? For what?" You were genuinely surprised. Sure, you'd let Steve-O convince you to do the whole skateboard-into-the-water thing, but that had only been because Bam got food poisoning and needed a stand in.

"Just in case we make another movie! Filming never stops, Y/n/n." He explained, his arm moving to rest on your armrest as he spoke. You frowned at the nickname, moving your arm to rest next to his as you looked out at the fire pit.

"Probably. I liked the money." You said thoughtfully, lighting up the joint and making a point to blow the smoke to your left instead of your right so that it wasn't directly in his face. "I thought you said you were banning women from stunts."

"I did. You're different." He said simply, and you watched him attempt and fail to hide the fact that he was looking directly at your tits in your low-cut tank top. You raised an eyebrow at him in question at calling you 'different'. He quickly spluttered at the look on your face. "Because you're—you're badass. You're different."

"I'm taking that as a compliment." While you talked, you had been slowly inching your feet closer to his, and your shoes were now touching. If he noticed, he didn't say anything about it. "So? What would the next stunt be?"

"Well, we were playing with the idea of...naked barrel racing...across a tarp of lube." It was clear by his face that he was proud of his idea, but you could also tell that he was embarrassed to have to tell you what it was. It actually made you laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of that plan.

"You just want to see me naked." You accused, narrowing your eyes at him. He chuckled, looking unbothered by your accusation before taking another drag from his cigarette.

"What makes you think that? All the guys would be naked, same as you." He said, raising one eyebrow quizzically. You shrugged, a coy smile dragging onto your face.

"Hey. I don't know what you're into. Could be both." You said, hitting your joint as you studied his face. For someone who currently had your foot brushing purposely against his leg, he looked pretty at ease.

"Oh, not me. I'm a tits man, myself." He chuckled, his eyes moving back down to where you were now definitely moving your foot up his leg before looking back to you. "I'm just playing, doll. I'm planning on shooting them with paintball guns once they get out there, so you can't do the stunt."

With those words, a leg dropped down on yours, and you looked down towards your feet to see that he'd trapped the leg moving against his with his own.

"But, I'm sure I can get what I want in a different setting." He concluded, eyes flitting back up to yours. His fingers had now inched over your hand where his arm was next to yours on the arm rest, and you could feel the bandaid that was around his ring finger from picking up a broken bottle on set a couple of days prior.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly is that?" You were so thankful that it took a lot of weed to get you high, because you were afraid that you didn't sound as put-together as you thought you did. He seemed completely sober, and you could help but feel nervous about his hand on yours.

"Come on. I thought that was obvious." He drawled with a wide grin, leaning in close to your ear so that his breath tickled your skin. "I wanna see you bent over and spread in every pretty position I can think of."

"Whew. You pick up fast. I was afraid I was gonna have to get drunk and show you my tits." You laughed, turning slightly in your seat and setting your joint on top of your beer can so that your hands were free.

"Offer's still on the table." He teased, winking at you as he slowly brought your hand up before pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"Well, how's this?" You then leaned in to kiss him, and were satisfied to see that he met you halfway there, your hand immediately pulling out of his to cup his cheek instead. Kissing Johnny Knoxville. Cross that off the old bucket list.

When you broke away, you were out of breath, and you could feel the way your heartbeat was going a million miles a minute as he leaned away to take another drag of his cigarette without a care in the world.

"You know, I hate it when you call me Knoxville. Sounds better when you're saying my real name." He said, brown eyes on yours as he spoke. The party was loud, and everyone was drunk and shouting at each other, but he spoke so calmly and quietly you almost didn't hear him.

"PJ Clapp. That's so much sexier." You said with a grin, waiting until he wasn't 100% paying attention to lean over your chair and mouth you owe me money to Bam and Ryan, who had just watched that entire exchange. He chuckled.

"Yeah, that's why I don't use it." He sighed, looking up at you once again after he had ashed his cigarette onto the grass between his feet. "You know, I'm a little old for you. I have gray hairs."

"They should call you Silver Foxville." You said dryly, rolling your eyes as you glanced to the limited space between your lips. You’d kissed him once, and now you really wanted it again. And again. "Your dick still works, doesn't it?"

"Thank you for proving that I'm not just a pretty face." He poked fun at your attention to that one certain thing, and he just proved his point with his wide grin. You shrugged, pushing your boldness to the highest level you could stand.

"Pretty face means nothing if you don't have a pretty dick." You said coyly, leaning away from him again to take another hit off of your joint and blow it away from him. You felt a surge of satisfaction as you saw the shaken look on his face. Considering the people he was friends with, you’d assumed he'd heard worse.

"Shit. You're making me fuckin' harder than Portland cement." He muttered, tilting your chin fully towards himself just as you were exhaling another cloud of smoke and pressing his lips to yours as you basically transferred your smoke right into his lungs. "Wanna feel?"

When you gave your hum of approval, you felt his hand on your wrist, and then he was pressing your palm into the bulge of his Dickies, a low groan escaping his lips as your fingers cupped his hard cock through his pants. You were thanking god that your chairs were facing away from everyone else in the group, because you were not a fan of the idea of pictures of what you and Johnny were doing at the moment.

"Fuck. Let's go somewhere else." You mumbled against his mouth, slowly pulling your hand away from him as your eyes darted towards the house that barely anyone else was in. You knew he would've been perfectly fine with you feeling him up to completion right there in the yard, but you were really trying to preserve your dignity, high or not.

"Come on. I know the house." He breathed, breaking away from you and dropping his cigarette under the toe of his close-to-destroyed converse before his eyes zeroed in on the spliff still between your fingers. There wasn't much left, but still enough to where you felt guilty about abandoning it. "And let me see that."

You handed it over hesitantly, half worried that he was going to give the joint the same treatment as his cigarette, but then let out a sigh of relief when he took a hit that had his eyes watering and smoke pouring out of his nose as he coughed. Wow. He really hadn’t been lying about taking a break.

Once he was satisfied with his hit, he handed it back over to you before taking your hand and beginning the walk through the sliding back door and into the house. You prayed for your tomorrow self's sake that no one was paying attention to you both, hoping that somehow the only two people going inside instead of coming out were going magically unnoticed.

"I should really be taking you back to my house. I feel bad." Johnny said as he closed the door behind you, his hand tightening in yours as he dodged expertly around the table and chairs that were moved messily all around the room. You scoffed.

"I don't give a fuck. We could be in a club bathroom for all I care." You said honestly, taking one last hit of your joint before setting the butt down on the kitchen counter as you passed by. His strides were much longer than yours, and you were hurrying to keep pace with him.

"Just how I like it." Just as he spoke, he gently nudged you into an open door, revealing a small bedroom which was quickly determined to be Star Wars themed. You frowned at him, to which he waved it off. "Scott's an eccentric decorator. He's got all themed bedrooms."

"Glad you picked the good one." You muttered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his sunglasses from the top of his head and discarding them on the opposite edge of the bed. His fingers immediately danced over the bottom hem of your decently-short shorts (which you’d actually repeatedly caught him staring at throughout the day of both shooting and partying), pulling them up further over your ass before his hands were kneading your exposed skin.

"Take 'em off." He spoke into your mouth, his hands moving back upwards until his fingers laced their way into your hair so that he could hold you tighter against his kiss. You did as he requested easier than you were willing to admit, yanking them down your hips to reveal your black and white cotton thong. Kind of cheesy, but you didn't miss the way his eyes lit up when he noticed it.

There was a moment where he just studied you, and just as you was going to move in and try to shield yourself from his sharp gaze, his hand was on your lower back and he was gingerly knocking you back onto the bed. He was on you seconds after your head hit the galaxy-print pillows, his hands roughly rucking your legs up over his hips as his lips pressed back onto yours.

You knew you were fucked. You could tell by both the way your whole body shook from just his hungry kisses and the fact that you were already missing his presence when he was still on top of you. But you didn't even care enough to think about it. All you could think about was the fact that he was pulling your tank top over your head, and then his hands were on your tits. He broke your kiss to look down at you, one hand using his thumb to brush over your sensitive nipple as the other held your jaw so that you couldn't look away from him.

"Listen to me, sweetheart." He said breathlessly, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at you in a way that you had never once seen from him in the past four years of knowing him. It was making every part of you that craved him throb even more. "I'm gonna eat your pussy, and you're gonna be a good girl and let me, understand?"

That almost killed you right then and there. You had been pretty sure you were going to be screwed before, but now you were positive. Your legs were tightening around his hips with every word, and you could barely get yourself under control enough to give him a nod. He smiled in satisfaction, then gave you one last kiss before he was pulling out of your grasp, lips leaving a trail of soft kisses down your arm as he slid himself down further towards the edge of the bed.

"So fuckin' hot. Smell so fuckin' delicious." He said as he moved, his fingers nimbly dragging the waistband of your underwear right down your legs as he went along. It was ridiculously smooth, and it made you even wetter for him as you waited less-than-patiently for him to get his mouth on you.

"Please, PJ." You whimpered, legs jello in his hold as he trailed his tongue up your inner thigh. You weren’t someone who usually allowed yourself to be teased, but something about the way he was touching you had you so transfixed that you couldn't even be bothered to complain. He chuckled.

"Oh, I like it when you whine for me. Say my name one more time and I'll let you have what you want." He crooned, sinking his teeth gently into your sensitive skin. You arched your hips up in the direction of his mouth, eager to get some form of release in any way you could manage.

"PJ. Need you so bad." You whined again, lip drawn harshly between your teeth as you watched him with desperate eyes. There was a glint in his gaze that made your heart pound, and you practically saw stars when his lips finally moved to where you needed him, his tongue laving around your clit and down over your entrance in one smooth motion. "Holy shit."

"Shh. Be a good girl for me and keep your mouth shut." He muttered, only taking that split second to remove his mouth before it was back at full force, his lips sucking adamantly at your clit as his tongue weaved intricate symbols that had you rolling your hips against his mouth. Despite his telling you to shut up, you couldn't stifle the moans that welled their way into your throat, your voice high-pitched and strung-out on pleasure.

He brushed his tongue across your clit over and over again, occasionally licking down to push his tongue into your entrance, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit each time he did so. It felt so good that you felt like you couldn’t see what was in front of you, your senses blinded and heavy with pleasure as he ate you out like no man had ever done before.

"You like everyone hearing how good I'm making you feel? 'S that why you can't control yourself?" He cooed as he removed his lips from my clit, a single finger pushing into you as a replacement as he gazed up at you with sly lust. You let out a disappointed gasp at the change in sensation, your clit aching in his absence. When he saw your face, a second finger followed his first, leaving his index and middle fingers curled inside you fully. "Who knew Y/n Y/l/n was such a pretty little slut."

"Please. Need more." Your voice was airy and distraught, fingers laced in the comforter on either side of you as you urged him to finish what he had originally started. You felt so close, yet so far.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. You’re gonna get what you want." He promised, curling his fingers forward and pushing them upwards in a slow but precise movement that had your hips involuntarily jerking forward and the air rushing from your lungs. Jesus, he really was good.

He started to push his fingers against that sweet little spot inside of you slowly, his cheek pressed against your inner thigh as he watched his digits disappear into you over and over again. And then, just as you were beginning to think that it wasn't going to be enough, his dipped his mouth back to your pussy, his tongue pressing back against your clit as his fingers worked in and out of you.

Your eyes slammed shut as your head pushed back against the pillow, your chest heaving as you took in the obscene slurping sounds he was making with his tongue mixed with the wet sounds caused by his fingers. He shouldered your legs even further apart, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared up at you the entire time.

Your climax was approaching almost embarrassingly fast. Your late night fantasies of Johnny Knoxville's head between your legs was even hotter than you had imagined many times before, and the sight of him grinding his hips down into the bed with every swirl of his tongue was making your entire body thrum with heat.

"I can feel you squeezin' my fingers, dollface. Let me feel you cum on my tongue." Johnny encouraged as he continued to push his fingers into you, his free hand pushing on your hip to keep you from pushing up into his mouth as aggressively as you wanted to. Your moans and gasps were now way beyond your control, and your voice only got louder as your back arched up, your climax hitting you hard enough to make you see stars as your eyes fell back open.

You had half a mind to clap your hand over your mouth as you panted and whined through your orgasm, your free hand taking a handful of his dark brown hair and pulling as you came. He didn't stop his tongue and fingers until your voice gave out and you were forcibly gasping for air, your grip in his hair going lax as you came back down to earth.

"Holy fuck." You breathed, wincing when he pulled his fingers out of you and accepting him with open arms as he moved back up to look at you with gleeful eyes and a spit-soaked chin. You reached out and used the collar of his shirt to pull up and wipe his mouth off, only to have him immediately suck his equally-wet fingers into his mouth once you had dropped the fabric back down to his throat.

"Damn. Can't get you to shut your mouth no matter if you're gettin' finger-fucked or not." He said cockily as he pulled his fingers from his mouth and wiped them off on his shirt. When you gave him a dirty look, he leaned his head to the side to suck gently at your neck, the rumble of his baritone laugh tickling your skin. "Although, haven't fucked you yet. We'll see."

"I can't cum again so fast." You said in surprise as he began to undo the buckle of his KNOXVILLE belt, a hand moving to his chest as you looked up at him with wide eyes. Your legs were still shaking, and if you had been loud before, it was only going to get worse if he fucked you while you were so sensitive. He kissed you gently, his eyes locked on yours.

"You can take it. Look, you've already got your legs spread nice and wide for me." He reassured, his hand gripping your thigh as he ripped his belt from his belt loops. You weren’t quite reassured, but you fumbled to get the zipper of his pants down regardless, his lips on yours encouraging you to let him do whatever the hell he wanted with you.

Once he had completely gotten his pants undone with your help, he stood up to quickly shuffle them off along with his boxers, leaving him bare from the waist down in front of you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking against the hem of his t-shirt. You barely gave him any time to stand there, pulling him back in with your fingers around his wrist before he was kneeling in front of your spread legs with his mouth half-open.

"You got a condom somewhere?" He asked suddenly, eyes unable to pull away from between your legs as he spoke to you. You mentally slapped myself, because of course you didn't have one, and since he was asking, he obviously didn't either. Unsafe sex was called unsafe sex for a reason.

However, you were too impatient to think rationally.

"No. You can just pull out." You said impatiently, watching as he gently pulled your legs back over his thighs. His gaze was so searing and yet his hands were more than careful with you, his touch so light it almost felt as if you were moving on your own.

"I like the way you think." He teased, pumping himself a few times as his eyes finally dragged their way back up to yours. "Be as loud as you want, gorgeous. I don't give a fuck."

You nodded as if you even had a choice, holding your breath as you felt the tip of his cock swipe through your pussy before he was slowly pushing himself into you. If there were any lingering thoughts in your head of anyone else you had ever even considered having sex with in the past, each and every one was erased with the drag of his cock inside of you. You both let out heated gasps, his hand tightening on your leg just above your knee and your head falling back once again. You were still a little sensitive from your last orgasm, and every touch felt like electricity as he slowly pushed his way completely inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel so good." He groaned, his hips stilling momentarily as you tensed at his length. As his tip brushed against your cervix with just his entering thrust, you knew you were in for it. You had seen him naked more times than you had previously been a fan of whilst working for Jackass, and at the time you had assumed he was a shower, but holy fuck was he a grower. It made another shudder of pleasure race up your stomach. "So fucking tight."

He didn't seem to be able to stand much time waiting, and before you knew it, he was slowly rolling his hips into you, his cock hitting every still-sensitive nerve as he fucked into you. You watched in ecstasy as he pulled the hem of his shirt up his muscled torso, biting it between his teeth so that he had both hands free to pull you forward on his cock.

"Oh. Right there. Right there." You gasped, moaning languidly as he picked up the pace of his hips and fucked right against the spot that he'd had his fingers against not three minutes before. He groaned in agreement, his head falling back and pulling his shirt further up his chest as he put all his movement into his hips.

You were really hoping that rubbing against the mattress while he'd been eating you out had gotten him at least a little close to cumming, because your second orgasm was quickly edging its way through your nerves as he fucked you hard enough to make the bed creak painfully loud. If anyone walked in through the unlocked door by that point, it was going to be their own fault.

"You look so good, takin' my cock like such a pretty little slut." Johnny purred, holding your legs open hard enough to make your muscles ache as he slammed into you over and over again. The pleasure was so good and so intense that your eyes were watering, and you could feel tears starting to track down the side of my face as you gripped helplessly at the sheets in a failed attempt to ground yourself with something. "You'd look so good with my cum dripping out of you."

You tried to mouth not funny, but all you could do was moan, his filthy words making you teeter dangerously on the edge of cumming before you were ready. You weren’t on birth control, but you weren’t exactly a big fan of making good decisions anyway, so you decided that if you weren’t able to get the words out, that you really didn't need to say them.

"Fuck, you want me to fill you up?" He questioned, his voice muffled by his t-shirt still between his teeth and his words followed by a low groan. "Fill you up like the good little slut that you are?"

You whined in agreement, nodding your head as best you could as you arched your back up further with every slam of his cock against your cervix. It was a pleasured pain, one that you knew you’d be feeling for the next couple of days.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He whined, seconds before his hips stuttered and you felt him cum inside of you, warmth painting your insides as you let out a porno-style moan and came right there on the spot with him. That had to be a good sign for the both of you, right? "So goddamn good."

Your second orgasm was even more blinding, and your vision went white as your back arched up painfully, your fingers helplessly pulling at the bed as you whimpered and gasped with every wave of pleasure that coursed through your body. His hands stayed on your hips the entire time until you were verbally begging him to stop thrusting his cock into you, the wet sound of him pushing his cum back inside reaching your ears as he slowly moved to a stop.

"You sounded so good, baby. Did so good." He babbled, immediately falling forward to press his lips sloppily to your throat as his hips moved lazily as he thrusted his last bit of energy out. Your head was spinning and your legs and pussy were already aching in the sweetest way possible as you wrapped your arm around his neck.

"God, you're fucking good at that." You breathed, letting out a strangled gasp when he finally pulled out of you. Whoever used the Star Wars comforter next was going to notice a suspicious looking stain right in the middle of it next time they got into bed.

"I can't believe it took us this long." He said, his breath coming out in pants as he steadied himself with one hand on the mattress next to your head. You realized with the increased quiet inside the room that you could hear multiple people talking and shouting at each other from outside of the door, and you mentally cringed because you knew that were was no way that you hadn't been overheard.

"Everyone's gonna know." You mumbled, carding your fingers through his hair as you finally felt your breathing beginning to calm again. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, and it still hadn't slowed down either. It made you feel a little bit better about yourself. He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your lips.

"Good. Then everyone will know that I'm the one who's giving it to you good, and I won't have any competition."

Oh yeah. You were done for.

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville smut #jackass #jackass imagine #jackass mtv #jackass movie #bam margera #ryan dunn #sorry if this looks a little fucked tumblr mobile is hell

1K notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 9 months

Note

Hey friendo 💜 drunk (mutually / accidental) kisses with Papa II if you feel like it???

Indeed my friend, I do feel like it 💙

A Single Kiss

Secondo x GN Reader (gender neutral reader, fluff, nsfw but there's just some tipsy kissing, 1k words)

~ You need a very specific type of kiss from your Papa ~

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“Your eyes are meaty.”

The look on Secondo’s face was priceless, just pure bewilderment at what had come out of your mouth. He grunted when you nearly toppled over again, letting out a string of Italian that you had no hope of understanding while sober let alone in your current state. You did recognize the word for shoe and you obediently held each foot up so he could remove the tall heels you had chosen for the night. When he chucked them down the hall you pouted, turning to go back and get them, but a quick tug on your hand had you spinning back towards him and pressed against his chest.

“We’ll get them later.” You poked your bottom lip out more and plucked at one of the buttons on his waistcoat. “You’ll break an ankle teetering around in those in your current state.”

“Someone will take them.”

Secondo snorted and shook his head. He had forgone the facepaint tonight, opting for just a black upper lip like in his cardinal days. Without the full paint it was easier to see his expressions, easier to see how he felt about you. Things were a little fuzzy around the edges of your vision, but you were pretty sure he was wearing that fond look he got whenever you two were alone together.

“Piccolina, who would take your shoes?”

“Terzo.”

Lucifer, you loved seeing him laugh. He turned and wandered back down the hall to grab your shoes. You let out a little sigh of appreciation watching him bend over to pick them up. His perfectly tailored pants stretching across his ass and thighs.

You loved seeing that too.

With your shoes in hand he returned to your side, slipping an arm back around your waist to keep you steady. The walk back to his room went quietly. He only had to rearrange your wandering hands a few times, quietly tutting at you when you whined. How could he expect you to keep your hands to yourself when he looked like he did? When he smelled like he did? The urge to kiss him was always there, but right now it felt like if you didn’t you’d die.

“I think Terzo is too busy at his party to care about your shoes.”

“Secondo, come here.”

“I already am here, piccolina.”

You huffed and planted your feet as hard as you could trying to stop him, turning around to place your hands on his chest. A single eyebrow rose up as he tried to figure out what you were doing. Well, it should be obvious.

“Silly Papa, I want to kiss you.”

“Oh really? What’s the occasion?”

Ugh, why was his face so far away? You gripped the lapels of his jacket in your hands and pulled yourself up on your tiptoes.

“Your handsome face is the oc-occas…um,” You squinted at his face, trying to remember the damn word when a wave of dizziness hit you. Groaning, you leaned harder against him, your forehead falling to rest on his tie. His chest vibrated as he chuckled and you hummed when he rubbed his free hand up and down your back. The dizziness passed quickly so you leaned your head back to look at him again. “I like your eyes.”

“Because they’re meaty?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” When he tried to gently nudge you forward you growled, planting your feet again. “Papa no, we can’t move until you kiss me.”

“Ah, is that the price? A single kiss?”

“Yup.” Your lips popped on the ‘p’ and you grinned smugly at him. “A good one, too.”

He moved the hand on your back to your cheek, lightly brushing his thumb across your cheek bone.

“Aren’t all my kisses good, piccolina?”

“Yes, but I want a really good one. Like…firm. A firm kiss, Papa.”

Secondo nodded solemnly, the look on his face making your heart do funny things in your chest.

“A really good, firm kiss. I think I can do this.”

“Sloppy, too.”

“So demanding tonight. Is there anything else?”

You scrunched your nose up as you thought about what else the kiss should have. Your thoughts were so fuzzy it was hard to think about all the things that went into a kiss from your Papa.

“Oh! Tongue too. Please.”

“Alright, I think I can manage that. But after you’re going straight to bed, ok?”

“Yes, Papa.”

The sound of your shoes dropping back onto the floor echoed down the hall, but before you could protest their treatment Secondo was leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. You had to cling to his jacket harder to stay upright, the force and passion behind his kiss tough to handle after all the colorful drinks you had at his brother’s party. Secondo’s lips tasted like the bright pink concoction you’d foisted on him before he’d insisted you both leave.

You opened your mouth under his when his now free hand moved to your ass and his fingers dug into your flesh. Secondo began to nip and suck at your lips before slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Both of you groaned as the kiss deepened, your tongues flicking and rubbing against each other’s. Secondo’s mouth dominated yours, his movements practiced but still full of passion. When the kiss finally slowed and he began to pull away you whined, trying and failing to follow his mouth as he leaned back. He shushed you, making you pout up at him.

“Now, now. I think I did everything you asked, si?” You reluctantly nodded, but continued to pout. He rubbed a thumb along your swollen bottom lip and clicked his tongue. “It’s time for bed now, that was the deal.”

“Can there be more kisses?”

Secondo smiled gently and nodded, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I will always have kisses for you, piccolina.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

my masterlist

my ao3

#my fics #my writing #secondo x gn reader #papa emeritus ii x gn reader #the band ghost fanfiction #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo fanfiction #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #secondo #the band ghost fanfic

246 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 7 months

Text

This is dedicated to @dragonflylady77 who is amazing always encourages me to write more in this verse and who has been having a rough week. Inspired by this post by @ariesbilly

Billy is going to have to ask out the hot neighbor who runs past his window every morning in the hospital.

In his defense he doesn’t plan for it to go down like that initially. He actually has a really good idea on how he’s going to get The Runner (what he’s going with absent of a name) off the sidewalk and into his bed. Symbolically speaking, because Billy has had too much sixty-nine in dirty club bathrooms to be a princess about whether there’s an actual bed in their future or not.

Which is kinda how Billy arrives at his idea in the first place - the sixty nine bit. Billy’s flexible as shit, and believes in the sanctity of total body workouts. Because he’s not trying to look like an asshole. It’s about engaging muscles in equal proportions so you don’t end up looking like fucking Donkey Kong.

Anyway, Billy can do a handstand with the best of them. He can do a handstand while doing pushups. He can do a handstand one handed while doing pushups. He can do a handstand one handed while doing pushups and holding a barbell. It’s impressive shit, and it has gotten him more than a few coded glances at the gym.

The goal here is to get a piece of that ass - or better yet, let that third arm The Runner’s tight little shorts do absolute wonders with, get a piece of him - but Billy’s classy with it. He figures he’ll treat The Runner to a little show before the main event.

There is a bottle of fresh orange juice and a carton of eggs in his fridge that says he knows how to show a guy he’s more than just a hit and dip. Billy even showers before he goes outside to begin his workout, considerate of the fact that sweat & musk isn’t everyone’s favorite combination. He does up his hair, forgoes a shirt, and puts on his sluttiest pair of sweats - the ones that make his ass pop - gathers up his shit and heads out into the front yard at just after seven A.M. His runner doesn’t usually come by until around half past, but Billy doesn’t want to chance missing him.

Billy sets his towel and his barbells off to the side, facing the sidewalk, so that he’s got a reason to ask the runner to stop and he can see the runner coming without looking too obvious about it. He does some stretches to get limber, along with a set of jumping jacks to get his heart pumping and work up a bit of a sweat.

A group of pre-teen girls wearing backpacks decide that right outside his house is where they need to stop and decide if one of them still has a crush on someone called Pineapple. Billy has no idea why they feel the need to speak in code like he gives a shit about their middle school drama, but they’re taking up the whole damn sidewalk with it. So Billy chucks a clod of dirt at their feet and smirks as they all jump and scream like a snake tried to bite their heels.

The bravest of the group demands to know why he threw dirt at them to which Billy just snaps, “No loitering!”

Pouty and reluctant, the group starts to move on. Just in time too, because Billy spots The Runner turning the corner at just that moment. With a thrill of anticipation Billy times it in his head to give a good show and then baits the hook. He turns and bends down onto his hands, ass out, and then lifts his feet into the air. He peeks over his shoulder to make sure the runner is watching - oh hell yeah, he’s watching Billy with this sort of dumbstruck expression, lips parted and doe eyed - and then does a few standing crunches just to sweeten the pot.

All that’s left is to seal the deal.

“Hey can you -” Billy starts to ask if the guy can hand him one of the barbells on top of his towel but a girlish scream interrupts him. It’s not like the dirt clod scream where it was just a bunch of girls being dramatic, it’s different. The bad sort of scream that means someone has really gotten hurt or is about to. Billy falls back onto his feet as quickly as he can, instincts on high alert just as the sound of a crash follows the scream.

He sees the runner splayed out on his back halfway through the ratty old fence in the neighbors yard. The group of girls are surrounding a girl on the ground, who is clutching her leg but staring on in horror at where the runner has fallen.

“Jesus Christ! What the hell happened?” Billy demands to know as he runs over.

“I was tying my shoe! He just tripped right over me.” The girl on the ground wails. Her friends back her up presumably. In any case they do a lot of talking at once that Billy doesn’t really listen to once he’s got the gist of it - girl bruised but okay, his plans for the morning possibly broken or dead.

Thankfully one of the girls has some sense, and a flip phone because she gets on it and starts to dial 911. Billy doesn’t think the guy is dead judging by the way he’s groaning as he tries to lift himself, but the blood streaming down one side of his face does make him think he may have broken him a little bit.

“Hey, hey, don’t move.” Billy warns him, crouching at his side. He puts hands on him because the guy is wearing a glassy eyed expression that doesn’t give Billy great confidence that he can hear anything but the birds circling around his head.

“You’re bleeding from your head. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Billy asks. A glance over the guys really trim and scantily clothed body would imply that other than a few scratches on his arms and legs the biggest problem is the bump on the head, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.

“I’m a grown man dad I can smoke pot if I wanna.” The Runner slurs, turning his head in Billy’s direction. He blinks owlishly at him as if he’s just noticed him for the first time. “Oh hi. You’re really pretty.”

Billy smirks.

“Pretty enough for you to trip over your own ass?”

Brown eyes blink back at him in glazed confusion, the runner’s brow furrowing with deep consternation.

“No. No… it wasn’t my ass, it was…”

He tries to turn and point like a drunken child and Billy stops him before he can hurt himself further, cause he’s obviously concussed as shit.

He’s also stupidly cute. So while Billy wasn’t really planning for this whole thing to end in a hospital bed, and to spend his morning playing bedside vigil he’s not too mad at it either. It’s not every day someone literally falls for you.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #fizzi writes fic #I hope this makes you smile Guin #sending all the love #runner steve

114 notes · View notes

scoobydoodean · 7 months

Text

Free will is written into the fabric of Supernatural. There is no Supernatural without it. Without it, there is no story to tell. Supernatural is fundamentally about making choices that defy causality's flow—something impossible to do in the absence of free will. Supernatural has always been about defying the role set for you:

Repeating your father's revenge-driven quest and allowing it to consume you because you also lost the woman you loved or stepping away from the generational loop set for you.

Obeying your father's dying wishes or rejecting them for love.

Letting circumstances turn you into a monster or retaining your humanity, defying the course set for you by those circumstances.

Whether you can ever sink so low that you can't come back from it no matter how much you want to—whether the hole you have dug can ever become so deep you can't climb out or whether you can always make the choice to change.

We understand the machinations of heaven and hell and god and your father in Supernatural not as the violation of free will but as the shaping of ones circumstances intended to bend their choices to the desired outcome of an authority figure. This is causality:

"Whatever you do, you will always end up... here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up... here"

We are not dealing with lifeless puppets on strings—not even ones who think they have free will but actually don't—no matter the presence of those fears. Autonomy remains. It is the whole reason the story exists in the first place. It's why heaven and hell find themselves subject to the existence of choice and must resort to coercing and bargaining and threatening and lobotomizing. It's why Chuck's anger simmers and then explodes—because his toys repeatedly resist his attempts to bend them to his will. He believes he can create mazes from which there is no escape, but he can't, and his creations chewing through the enclosures over and over confounds him. The presence of the enclosures he builds, to begin with, are proof that he cannot make them do anything. He and all who came before him must get our characters to comply—through manipulation, through the example set by their fathers, through the expectations of ones family, through loss and grief and pain, through resentment and rage, through a fundamental loss of hope and faith—in oneself, in ones family, in ones ability to escape or choose.

Supernatural is also all about love. Love is written into the fabric of the series and the show does not exist without it. Love cannot be forced or mandated or dictated. Love simply is. Love turned Sam from the path of revenge in season 1. Dean defied his father's expectations for love. Sam and Dean and Cas each climbed back from the threat of losing their goodness through love. Love allows one to overcome possession, love gives the strength to defy orders, love gives one the ability to break through re-programming. Love helps one retain hope and belief and stay strong. Free will and love go hand in hand.

#spn and causality

97 notes · View notes

jiminiecrickets · 6 months

Note

Seven days a week couple meeting each others parents?

i'm only gonna do it for reader meeting jk's parents bc it's still a self insert and i don't want anyone feeling put-off or excluded because i don't write their family dynamics/culture :)

sfw. a tiny bit longer than usual bc i get carried away lol

"i'm going to explode."

"no, you're not. you're going to be confident and kind and let them know that our relationship makes you happy and that you expect a serious future with me, which is why this introduction is important."

"i do?" jungkook squeaks, huge eyes swivelling to you.

"unless you don't expect a serious future with me, and you've been lying every time i asked?"

"no, no," he rushes out, rubbing his temples. "but do i tell them that? what if they think i'm too young for something so serious? oh, god, what if they think you're too good for me? how are you not panicking right now?"

"i'm panicking as well. stop messing with your hair, it's making me anxious."

he hisses, "you're anxious? you look like you're going to make a cup of coffee!"

you reach out and grab his hands, holding them tightly. his eyes widen as the tremors shake him all the way to his marrow. "i've mastered the art of masking my fear. it's terribly helpful when my boss calls me into his office for no reason. still don't believe me?"

you take one of his hands and slip it under your suit jacket, pressing it firmly against your chest. beneath your skin, your heart rabbits like his own.

"if this whole nine-to-five thing doesn't work out," jungkook breathes, "you could be an actor."

you laugh. "sure, baby. i'll keep that in mind."

as the older one in the relationship, you have a particular weight on your shoulders to do everything correctly. jungkook had made himself a secret plan to make sure his parents would know just how well you treat him and try to take some of the pressure off – it included things like bending down to pick something up near a table edge and taking off his outer layers. you won't have to do anything out of the ordinary to play right into his plan, jungkook thought to himself giddily.

you don't notice anything different, politely chatting with his parents at the dinner table and only sparing him a glance when he bent over to fiddle vaguely with the end of his jeans. he smiles to himself when his father spots your hand over the corner and nods to his wife. jungkook collects your hand in his and holds it in his lap for the rest of dinner.

"i'm gonna go wash up, hyung," he murmurs, sliding out of his chair. you nod with a smile and hold out your hand as he slips off his many rings. you drop them into your pocket and smooth the opening down to make sure you won't lose them. jungkook's mother narrows her eyes at her husband and jungkook knows the look: why don't you do that for me?

on the way back from the bathroom, he chucks his jumper into his old bedroom and closes the door. he doesn't mention it until after the sun has gone down and he's pointing out all the plants in the backyard that are as old as he is, at which point he tucks himself into your chest and whispers innocently, "i'm cold, hyung."

"of course you are. you're not wearing nearly enough for this weather." you toss your jacket over his shoulders and he hums, snuggling into the warmth that remains.

after a moment, he says, "i'm still cold."

"then we should go inside. you can tell me about these asters some other time."

"asters?"

"yeah. that potted plant there." you point. "those are aster flowers."

he squints at it, crouching down near it and pushing the sleeves of your jacket up slightly as to not dirty them. he touches the green leaves. "are you sure? it just looks like a bush to me."

"i'm sure. the leaves are long and thin and the heads are shaped like tiny heads of lettuce. that's where the flower is."

he giggles, gazing up at you from his place next to the potted plant. "i didn't know you had a green thumb, baby."

"i don't, really. this one's just special to me." you kneel next to him, waving off his concerns about your fancy trousers. "the aster is september's flower."

"september...?"

"yeah. it's your flower." you hum, stroking the leaves of the plant. "would you like to come to the nursery with me tomorrow?"

his eyes grow wide; they sparkle. "you want to adopt with me, hyung?"

"i do."

"i'll come with you." he smiles. "i promise to water it every day and give it lots of sun!"

"or as much as it needs."

"or as much as it needs," he agrees. he punches your arm playfully. "you really looked up my birthday flower? you're such a nerd."

"i did, because for you, i'm a big sap. hah – get it? sap?"

"you have five seconds to run."

you scramble to your feet. "you're being a little unprofessional!" you call over your shoulder, playing peek-a-boo with the rotary clothes line between your bodies. you peek one way. "you don't appreciate my jokes nearly enough!" you peek the other way.

"unprofessional? i'm your boyfriend!" he shouts, laughing as he grabs your tie and tugs you into him. "jeez, old man, is your job your entire life? where's the room for me?"

while he talks, he wraps your tie around the clothes line's pole, holding it there to make sure you can't run away again. you lean against the pole, humming as he steps closer and presses a kiss to your lips. it's dark, and jungkook's parents had kicked you both out of the kitchen – you because you are their guest, and jungkook because he just gets in the way and stresses everyone out, watching his mother scrub the dishes with the drying towel ready in his hands to accept the next plate.

"who are you calling an old man, young man?" you tease, tugging the knot around your neck to loosen it. "you're choking me, love. i'm going to die in your parents' backyard without proper shoes on."

"maybe you deserve it," he retorts, letting your tie twist free. "i'm still cold."

"would you like me to take off my shirt, too, then? it's so thin. it wouldn't insulate you at all."

"your trousers are woollen, though."

you reach for your belt. he nearly jumps out of his skin, grabbing your wrists and pulling them to your sides. "what are you doing?"

"giving you my trousers," you reply innocently. "you said you wanted them."

"i wasn't being serious, stupid!" he huffs. "ass. let's go inside before my parents wonder what we're doing."

"yes, dear."

that response alone gives you their approval.

#asks #jungkook x male reader #seven days a week

52 notes · View notes

thesherrinfordfacility · 9 months

Text

alright next up on the list of ideas to dredge up from the drafts and talk about in more detail is the focus on books in this season, because its driving me around the bend

but because i literally have no answers whatsoever to this, im just going to do a crowley-core #justgirlythings and just ask questions:

ep2 goob (rip) lines: "books are key!" which ok yeah obvious but:

"and see, the big ones can be used as fly swats - and i know what you're thinking, but it's okay, because the beauty part is, it never works!"... hmmmm

but also earlier on, goob asks aziraphale "what [letter] comes after 'K'?", which is 'L', but goob then immediately refers back to his book that he's alphabetising, which is A Tale of Two Cities, and that starts with 'it'...? so why highlight the letter 'L'? (this might be something of nothing but given Book of Life idk could literally have been ANY other letter)

but then we have the rest of the episodes that cascaded from the two things above; first, the book blueprint of the universe in ep1, which AWCW was referring to, but only from page 11 onwards (so what was on pages 1-11?):

ep2: crowley discovering that jane austen wrote books (like, other than it being a comedic point of their conflicting remembrance of her as a person, and gives the "you think you know someone!" foreshadowing, it felt very pointed that crowley learns that she was a writer as well)

ep2 also sees aziraphale looking at a huge tome which, given everything that's going on, seems weird that he'd be randomly consulting? idk what the book is so not doubling down on this... anyone know if ive just missed something obvious?

but also makes a point of consulting the bible after goob recites what god said to job in the bookshop. which, given that he and crowley readily recognise what god says (he even says to crowley, "I most certainly do [remember]"), seems weird that they'd need to consult a book to remind them who job was and his story... could be exposition and for the cool fall-through effect, but possibly felt a bit unneeded. plus, it got aziraphale so absorbed that he totally conked out and missed crowley leaving the shop:

aziraphale writing in his diary at his desk on his bed, lying in his tummy, feet kicking in the air, in ep3:

the magician's pamphlet that not only follows aziraphale's epiphany of realising he's in love with crowley but also literally sets up the opportunity for aziraphale to demonstrate how much he trusts him, and is ultimately used against them in being discovered as (at least) being traitors to their respective sides:

plus the Hoffman book, and the angel field-guide:

like, oversimplifying, but literally all of ep5 being based on jane austen works

emphasis on muriel wanting to read books in the background of the Showdown going on in ep6, being chucked The Crow Road by crowley, and metatron being weirdly interested in the fact that they're reading it... like, how would he not know what a book is? why is it "excellent", and a "perfectly splendid thing to do"? odd choice of words even if you want them to take over the bookshop:

now this one i can believe is literally just about goob in the shop and that's fine, but again the emphasis on books anyway (and also michael's weirdly strong but conflicting memory? might write a different post about that bc i think michael got got by metatron somewhere along the line):

back to ep2 but fitting to bookend on:

so okay yeah sure, im certain the book of life comes into all of this somewhere (ive posted about it here but im fairly certain it's not what heaven/hell seems to claim it is, and i think only the metatron truly knows that). there's been a lot of emphasis on memory too in this season, but taking that out of the equation a minute, the main things giving me heebie-jeebies is goob's line about using big books as fly swats, and obviously metty-babes' weird reaction to the crow road...

idk where im going with this and ill probably look at this again but all of this was floating around my noggin and i couldn't take it anymore

#good omens #*screams into the abyss* BOOKSSSSS #s2 meta #book of life theory #kinda

54 notes · View notes

the-jarvy-party · 1 year

Text

IN THE MOONLIGHT | neymar jr

neymar jr x fem!reader

lowercase intended || warnings : fluff, cursing

wc : 1222 words (masterlist)

valentine’s day special | also this is set in paris, i wanted to clear things up because i know it’s summer in brazil rn

neymar’s first date with a paris lady doesn’t go as planned, soon realizing that his heart belonged to his best friend.

translations at the end :)

“i need this to be perfect.” neymar paces around the room and i sit on his bed.

“what does she like?” i cross my legs and he stops to look at me. “are you serious?” i blankly stare at him with a flat tone.

“it- it’s the first date, if that helps.” he starts to talk with his hands, getting progressively nervous and sweaty.

“it’s fine, but why valentine’s day for a first date?” i mumble and neymar goes to sit next to me.

“i’m fucked.” he puts his head in his hands.

“no, you’re not.” i put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he tenses up. “it’s normal to be nervous.” i slowly take my hand off and put it in my lap.

“it’s not my first date, doce. it’s just,” he pauses for a second to look at the tv in front of us. “i can’t screw this one up.”

“you won’t, i’ve known you since we were 14. when have you, the ladies man, fucked up a first date?” i smile at him and bump into his side. “well, except for gabriela matos sophomore year.” i let out a chuckle and neymar groans.

“you said you’d let that go!” we both start to laugh. “thank you, though. i really appreciate you.” neymar hugs me before going to his closet. i pat his back with my hand.

i really appreciate you.

͟͟͞͞➳❥

“you promise that she won’t like… run away or-“ neymar was religiously fixing his hair.

i had to cut him off, “you’re being destructive. you’re an easy person to talk to, everyone loves you. you’re gonna be fine.” i get up off of the couch to stop neymar from fixing himself in the reflection of a metal bowl.

i grab his hands and take them out of his hair, fixing it one more time. “hey, i was fixing it.”

“you’re making it more greasy by doing that.” i let go of his hands, putting mine in my hoodie. “isn’t it time?”

“sh- yeah.” he kisses my forehead before leaving. “bye amor!” he runs out the door. my heart started to race, i got a little too caught up. he’s been doing stuff like that since we were 16, that’s normal for neymar.

i couldn’t help but let my heart race, my face heat up, and get all giddy like i have since he’s started doing it.

it felt like i was developing my teenage crush on him all over again and i knew that was gonna end terribly.

͟͟͞͞➳❥

i jump off of the couch once i hear the door open, screaming trying to find something to throw.

i grab the remote and chuck it at the wall, “god! fuck! why’d you do that?”

“woah! doce, christ!” neymar puts his hands up, “you almost hit me.” he bends down to pick up the remote.

once i see him in the glow of the tv, i realize that he didn’t seem too happy. “oh, neymar. what happened?” i soften my gaze and he scratches his arm.

i see his frown start to turn into a smile, soon going ear to ear. “HAH- sorry.” he clears his throat.

“not funny.” i blurt out.

“it went good, i’m just leaving my coat here and we’re gonna go to a show.” he hands me his coat. “she said it was good. i’ll see you later?”

it came out as a question, since i had a house not too far down the street. “oh- oh! yeah, i’ll see you later. bye, belo.” i wave my hand.

“bye, doce!” he closes the door and locks it before i hear his car speed out of the driveway. after zoning out for a few seconds, i realized i was clutching the coat he had given to me.

it smelt like him, or the cologne he really only wears when he’s in paris. he warrants being here a special occasion. i hear a crinkle in one of the pockets and decide to take the piece of paper out.

a bunch of random scribbles, probably to calm himself down. i flip to the back, it seemed like a draft of a love letter.

the jealousy sat in when i realized it was to the girl he was on the date with, though her name was written over another one. i don’t know why i’d be jealous. it’s not like neymar was gonna miraculously, automatically fall in love with me once i realize my own feelings.

“do i really want to know what this says…” i mumble to myself, biting the skin around my thumb. “yes, yes i do wanna know.” i unfold the paper to read it.

it was half finished, hearts bordering the page. he put a ton of thought behind it, and not gonna lie, it was sweet. i fold it back up and put it back in the jacket pocket.

͟͟͞͞➳❥

i feel the couch sink in next to me and i wake up. “hm?” i look up and see neymar smiles at me. “oh!” i sit up, “was it fun?”

“yeah, miss you though.”

“why’d you miss me?” i yawn and neymar puts his arm around my shoulders.

“she wouldn’t stop and enjoy the silent parts.” he pauses for a second. “like natural silence. she’s nice though.”

“awww, neymar is in looovvee.” i smile and he rolls his eyes.

“i might be.” he smiles and we sat in silence for a few minutes. “wanna do the tradition?”

“really? i would love to.” the valentine’s day tradition was a special one, in my opinion.

we’d sit where we can see the eiffel tower and talk for hours. i didn’t know he’d be up for it after being out.

“yeah, i’ll bring snacks. go to the car.” he hands me the keys and i get my shoes on.

͟͟͞͞➳❥

once we got situated, i admired the beauty of the symbol of france. i loved how it over-shined the city around it, how it glowed almost as bright as the moon.

“so, what do you wanna talk about?” neymar opens a bag and starts to eat.

“maybe your date?” i smile and he shakes his head.

“it really didn’t go too well. she was a great person, just not the right one for me.” my ears perk up when he said the last thing, he didn’t seem too sad about it.

“oh, well there’s always someone who is right for you.” yeah, me. i was talking about myself. i hope he got the hint.

“yeah, i’m just glad we got to keep this up.” he scoots closer to me. “i enjoy spending time with you.”

his words made me subconsciously smile, “i enjoy hanging out with you, too, belo.” i put my hand on his cheek.

leaning into my touch, neymar looks into my eyes. the lights from the tower made him look angelic, “y/n-“ i think we both realized what was about to happen. i could see the shift in his eyes, and i could feel the shift when he said my name. “- i can’t.”

he leans in quickly, taking me by surprise. i kiss back, the 15 years of pent up feelings finally came out.

“eu te amo.” he whispers to me and i smile.

“eu também te amo.” i kiss him again and he rests his forehead on mine.

͟͟͞͞➳❥ ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ➳❥

TRANSLATIONS

belo : beautiful

doce : sweet

amor : love

eu te amo : i love you

eu também te amo : i love you too

#macs multi fandom tag #neymar jr fanfiction #neymar jr #neymar jr x reader #neymajr #neymar #valentines day special #soccer #football

139 notes · View notes

songmingisthighs · 1 year

Text

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

m.list | next >>

ch. i - frustration

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

As soon as San got home, he immediately chucked his shoes aside, not even caring if the leather's scuffed or if his soles scuff his floor. That's the housekeeper's business.

It wasn't unusual for him to get angry, especially after dinner with his parents. Well, anger is an overstatement. Maybe it was frustration? Discomfort? Whatever it was, he doesn't really know why some words that his parents used irked him so much so that he managed to bend a spoon with only his sheer distaste. His friends weren't much help either what with mocking his lack of sex life.

San poured himself a glass of scotch that he got after his dad signed a deal with a Canadian logistics company. He didn't know when he adopted the habit of drinking whiskey but he knew for sure he didn't do it because he wanted to. Drinking it makes him feel like he's 50, the fact that his dad even said that whiskey symbolizes wealth, success, status, all things every 50 year old man San knew has. The taste burn his throat but at least he could still feel something other than annoyance. The burn felt good.It had been so long since San felt things that he actually wanted to feel. Happiness, pain, anguish, disdain, distaste, doubt, and even pleasure.

Pleasure. How long has it been since he felt pleasure?

He could just imagine how his friends mocked him for "not getting his dick wet in a long while". It's not his fault that the heat suppressants killed his libido. But he was still able to have sex if he wants to. He was sure. He was... positive. Right?

San placed the glass on his nightstand as he pulled his tie off. Then his blazer, shirt, and suit pants came off, he left them to pool on his cold wooden floor. He stood there in the darkness of his room, buck naked, not knowing what to do first. It had been a while since the darkness became his friend, he found solace in the idea of nothingness and complete tranquil in silence. in it, no one can tell San what to do, what to take, ask him how he was feeling in the influence of drugs. But that never happened in the darkness, and he liked it.

His legs soon moved and he soon found himself under the shower head, letting the cold water hit him. Initially he wanted to take a hot shower but as soon as he high temperature enveloped him, he felt suffocated, his skin felt uncomfortable so he switched to cold water instead.

With closed eyes, he began lathering himself up with his hand and loofah. His neck craned, face facing the shower head on his bathroom wall, letting the water trickle down his face, freshening him up. Soon enough, he felt the temperature difference between the water and his hand and his brain started turning. He imagined it wasn't himself touching his own body, the hand that has now traveled down to his crotch wasn't his. Somehow he was able to concoct an image in his head of a woman touching him, the familiar touch indicated that he knew the person touching him well.

Soon enough, San found himself stroking his full rigid length. His head thrown forward, ducking as the hand that was initially holding onto his loofah had now abandoned the flimsy thing on the floor, swaying around to the current brough by the dripping water. With eyebrows furrowed and fist holding tighter onto his dick, he began chasing his climax with the help of the images conjured by his head. To help him add to his pleasure, his brain imagined a woman, San couldn't see her clearly as his brain was balancing between being clouded by lust and trying to urge his release. All he know was that he felt like he knew who she was, she felt so familiar, her skin glistened so beautifully and the way his brain imagined her being the one touching him, he was sure she had experience with him. As his hand picked up its speed. the image became more vivid in his head, he could even imagine the sounds she was making; moaning at how hard he was, how warm his cock was in his hand, how much she wanted him to cum in her hands, have his mess on her hands so she could clean it up for him. San let out a stuttered exhale, he was about to bust, he knew it. The girl in his head suddenly repositioned so she was kneeling in front of him, head looking straight at his dick while making the most pornographic whines, making it seem like she was hungry for his dick. That was it, San was so close, he could feel how his balls tensed up and his girth twitching in his hand, leaking more precum by the minute. It wouldn't take him much to cum now.

But the unexpected came instead.

When the girl in his head turned to look up at him, he was surprised that he saw your face instead. The face he hadn't seen personally in years. The image surprised him so much that he opened his eyes and he let go of his cock. San was frozen for a bit, not sure as to why he imagined you in the first place. It was a complete shock to him, he couldn't imagine why his brain would thought of you whilst masturbating.

Once he came back to his senses, San looked down and saw that he was losing boner fast. He was determined to reach his climax, cum, whatever you can call it, he wants it. But as he refocused in trying to bring back rigidness to his dick that's turning flacid, he couldn't help but kept thinking about you. His cock twitching as an indication at how he appreciate the thought of you. But San didn't want that, San didn't want to be thinking of you as he masturbate. So instead of trying to make himself cum, he was instead actively trying to not think about you whilst the movements on his cock never stopped.

"Fuck, come on," he groaned to himself as he tried hard to revive his erection. At this point it was no longer about him wanting to cum but trying to prove something to no one but himself and he hated it. With scrunched up expression and a grip that turned his knuckles white, San soon felt stupid. He felt childish for wanting to chase his climax so bad and it didn't take long for him to let go of his dick and slump on the cold bathroom wall with the water still raining down on him.

Emptiness echoed within him and his only companion was the leftover euphoria from his could-be climax, the mocking sensation of what he could achieve had he not thought of you. Why did he thought of you whilst trying to pleasure himself anyways? Why you?

Thoughts he didn't want floating around, clouding him, began flooding his head. It had been a while since he had thought of you, your whereabouts and even how you were doing as he stalked your social media. Usually, he did it from sheer curiosity but never because he longed for you. Romantically or sexually. Those thoughts remain in the past, where he intended to leave alone until maybe his deathbed.

With a chill that ran up his spine, San decided that it was stupid trying to make sense of things with his bare ass on the floor with the water running down on him like some heartbroken sad bitch in a chick-flick. Maybe he will never try to make sense of why his brain recalled you as he was gripping his dick because he felt that he wouldn't want to face the truth. Or you know, he didn't want to start thinking more and more about you.

So he turned off the water angrily, eyes glaring at the floor as his chest still heave but more steady than before. With a last disappointed sharp exhale of his breath, he left the shower to return to the cold darkness of his room.

Filled with frustration once again.

taglist :

@rdiamond2727 @90s-belladonna @kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @miaatiny @shinotani @jayb17 @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @bbymatz @yunhorights @tinybinnie @blaaiissee @yunhobug @yoongiigolden @kpopnightingale @maddiebabyxoxo @dea-nimus @meowmeowminnie @x-bluee @itsbeeble @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @starjoongie1117 @glitterystarlightmeow @x-woozi @jwnghyuns @marvelous-imagines-for-all @baguette-atiny @jessi-outdated @dogsongy @kirooz

@justbaozi25 @idjitscentral @angelicyeo @jackinmyarea @cutie-wooyo

207 notes · View notes

underworldboss · 9 months

Text

"Let's Separate the Myth from the Gospel Truth..."

"Okay, so, lots of you crazy kids know your Greek mythology, but let me just tell ya straight up: the stories you know are like the results of playin' a game of telephone over thousands of years. Distorted mumbo jumbo! So I'm gonna set the record straight and give you fine people the full and true story of Hades! And this time those pesky Muses aren't gonna misconstrue what I've got to say! So relax, pull up a chair, and grab a bag of Feta Puffs. Let's get this show on the road!

"Back when the world was new, the Titans were running things and really driving everyone's cosmic property value into the dirt. You know the song and dance number, so I'm not repeating it. Cronus was the king of the titans, and he was the most powerful one of them all, controlling the universe with three gems that let him bend time and space to his will. But with great power comes great paranoia. See, he and the other Titans overthrew his dad Uranus to gain power, and the Fates gave him a prophecy warning him that his own kids would do the same thing to him.

"Well, as my rotten luck would have it, my mother, Cronus's wife Rhea, was pregnant with me at the time, and Cronus's solution to that prophecy was to swallow me whole so that I could never usurp him. And my mother just let it happen! She just drank lots and lots of wine to make herself forget about the atrocities she was party to (don't think I've ever see her sober). Cronus did the same thing to my brother Poseidon and the other children of the Titans, the future gods. And yeah, I know your myths say that all the gods are related to me, but that's just another example of mythology telephone. We were in my daddy dearest's stomach together, but Poseidon and Zeus were my only blood related siblings.

"But then along came Zeus. Apparently, Rhea grew a conscience after letting her first two kids get eaten by their father, and so she used her magic to make a rock look like Zeus and fed that to Cronus instead. Can you believe her? Doesn't give a satyr's ass about me or Po-Po, but her golden boy Zeus was just a smidge too far. Mother of the year right there. Well Zeus grew up in secret and trained for years to defeat Cronus, and then he came back, gave Cronus a potion to make him up-chuck, and well... you get the gist. Suffice to say I was free at last.

"And okay, lemme just address this one thing right here: I am the first born son of Cronus and Rhea, but I was the last god freed from Cronus's stomach, which is why Zeus calls me his little brother... Also because me being younger helped legitimize him taking the throne for himself, but I'm getting ahead of myself. So me and my fellow former contents of Cronus's stomach join forces with Zeus, and the Titanomachy war breaks out. Big fight, lots of lightning booga-booga, and, hey, I hedge my bets by double dealing with both sides under Zeus and Cronus's noses, but the gods win in the end.

"Zeus defeated Cronus in battle and banished him to spend eternity locked away in Tartarus. He then took the Gems of Cronus and scattered them across the cosmos, hoping they'd be lost forever... except the one he kept locked away on Olympus for a rainy day, but shhh, you're not supposed to know about that one. The other Titans got locked away in Tartarus too, except for, get this, Rhea. I wanted to lock her up and throw away the key, but Zeus had a soft spot for mommy dearest and just banished her to a cosmic golf course retirement villa. Oy, it still BURNS me up that she got off scot-free.

"Well, Zeusy names himself King of Mount Olympus even though it should have been MY gig, but the other gods supported him, so, hey, what'cha gonna do? Bolt Boy starts delegating jobs for all the gods, and in his infinite wisdom, he sticks me with the Underworld to be the Titans' jailer and keep track of the dead people. Sound like fun? No it isn't. And let me just tell ya, the Underworld was a PIGSTY when I got it dumped on me. The plumbing problems with the five rivers? Forget about it! But you're not here to listen to me kvetch. Suffice to say, I start plotting to take Olympus for myself from that moment forward.

"The Underworld job came with two 'perks', if you can call 'em that: a pair of imps, Pain and Panic, to be my personal servants. And, hey, they're not the best minions, but at least they were housebroken. Gave me someone to talk to and FRY when things went wrong. But it was a lonely life down under, bein' far away from the other gods on Olympus, and a god has needs, if you know what I mean. It was time to find myself a wife to be Queen of the Underworld by my side, and that's when I saw her: Persephone.

"Persephone was a total knockout and the Goddess of Spring, Demeter's daughter. You'd get a flare up just lookin' at her. Now, see, she didn't want anything to do with me since she was so wrapped up in her hippie nature lovin' shtick, so I tried everything to get her attention. I chained myself to a giant olive tree to keep it from gettin' chopped down - nothin'! I had Pain and Panic pose as cute helpless animals in distress so that I could 'save' them - nada! So, I decided, hey, why try to be someone else? I'll just go with my strengths, namely being evil. So I kidnapped her and dragged her down to the Underworld.

"Now I know how that sounds, but it wasn't so bad. I built her a mansion in the Underworld on Styx front property, and that was NOT cheap! But I found somethin' out real quick after I started livin' with that girl: she was annoying. Total militant vegan annoying. She threw out all my red meat, started tryin' to hook the Underworld up with green energy, and nagged me constantly about goin' 'Cruelty Free." ME! The Lord of the DEAD! Oy, romance was NOT everything it was cracked up to be. I was THIS close to kicking her out and sending her back to Demeter...

"...But then along came Zeus... and Hermes and Demeter. Apparently kidnapping 'Seph triggered an eternal winter up above, and, hey, who am I to say no to the world above dying? Zeus said I had to give Persephone back to her mother, because of course he had to stick his big orange nose where it didn't belong. No way was I gonna let Bolt Boy boss me around this time, and when I was doin' my home improvements in the Underworld, I found a little somethin' special to give me what I wanted...

"Erebus. The most ancient of all darkness. That stuff was old when my dad was King of Olympus. Do NOT touch it! Erebus has an appetite that puts Ursula to shame. It can eat through a universe if you get enough of it! After Zeus and Demeter annulled my shotgun wedding to Persephone, I tried to use the Erebus to keep her there. A handful of pomegranate seeds imbued with raw Erebus would've made 'Seph toxic to any place outside of the Underworld. Zeusy would've had no choice but to make her stay in the Underworld. It was all so perfectly planned.

"Unfortunately, Zeus caught wind of my plan. Before she could eat the seeds, Zeus pushed me and the seeds into the Phlegethon to 'save' Persephone. Never mind what that all-infused mineral bath did to his 'baby brother.' But, hey, some cosmetic changes end up bein' for the best. Wouldn't have my fiery hair without it! They took Persephone, high tailed it outta there, and now Demeter does the whole winter thing once a year to commemorate the occasion or somethin'. So needless to say, I HATE spring because it reminds me of my ex-wife. Moving on.

"After Zeus dunked me in the River of Fire, I decided that I'd put off my schemes of conquest for too long. Went ahead and made an alliance with Echidna so that she and her many many kids would join my team for the uprising. She even gave me a puppy to guard the Underworld as a show of good faith, and, boom, that's how I got Cerberus. I also made an appointment with the Fates to get the dish on how best to overthrow Zeusy-High-and-Mighty! They revealed that in eighteen years, when the planets aligned, I could free the Titans and topple Olympus with their help, but with one big catch: Zeus's little sun spot kid Hercules could muck up my hostile takeover bid.

"I had a special potion tucked away for a rainy day that could turn gods mortal, and trust me, it wasn't cheap to get it. It only worked on gods who hadn't come into their full power yet, which made it perfecto for the bouncing baby brat. I sent Pain and Panic to kidnap the kid and turn him mortal, but, of course, they BOTCHED THE JOB! He didn't drink the last drop and retained his godlike strength, and they didn't kill him!

"Now the timeline here gets a little fuzzy for me. Had a bad run in with some Lethe Water at some point during Hercules's teenage years. But once I figured out Jerkules was alive, I started hatching a bunch of different schemes to hedge my bets and take control of Olympus. None of 'em panned out, but ya can't blame a guy for tryin'. Met Jafar for the first time during that time period, and he helped fill in some blanks later on. But, basically, had a run in with Lethe Water at some point, lost all memory of Jerkules bein' alive, and went right back to blissfully settin' things up for the prophecy.

"I invested in a new minion at the time, a girl named Megara. She desperately sold her soul to me to save her boyfriend's life, and, look, I'm not sayin' I made him abandon her, but it sure cleared her schedule up havin' him gone. Of course, it wasn't long after that when I found out Jerkules was alive and well again. I threw everything I had at the kid, but he just wouldn't DIE! So I tried a different approach: I threw Meg at 'im. And he fell for the girl, hook, line, and sinker.

"I used Meg as leverage to take Wonder Boy off the board, and then I finally released the Titans and defeated Zeus! What we in the biz call a two-for-one special! Power was MINE at LAST! ... For about ten minutes! We tripped at the finish line because little Nutmeg had to go all noble! She sacrificed herself to save Herc, then he sacrificed HIMSELF to save HER, and all my plans just sorta fell apart, ending in me getting knocked into the Styx by Jerkules.

"But, hey, I got outta there with a little help from my old friend, Jafar. You can't keep the Lord of the Dead down, and the devil's always gonna get his dues! Bolt Boy and his little sun spot better start countin' their days, because I've got a hot spot reserved for both of them DOWN UNDER!"

#Hades #Disney Hades #Disney Hercules #Hercules 1997 #Hercules #Persephone #Disney Villains #Zeus #Disney backstory #backstory

40 notes · View notes

samsvenn · 2 years

Note

OMG i loved your Subaru’s and Reiji’s clothes headcanons, they were so so good and so so accurate, you’re a genius! 💖 so I was wondering if you could make Shuu’s clothes headcanons please?~

I love your work, thanks for your effort 💓

𝐒𝐡𝐮 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Possibly the most effort this man has put in over millennia is what fabric is the best for sleeping in.

You can’t tell me that he’s not bothered to do so. If there’s anything this man is willing to fight for that doesn’t include his MP3 player or Yuma, it’s his sleep.

The fabric has to be versatile. He tried silk but it looked way too gaudy and it caused far too many distractions to be a candidate. A group of preps was walking through one of the hallways that the staff used to try and sneak out. It ended badly. “And then I was- OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT BLONDE HOTTIE-” They all got caught, including Shu, and had to spend the school after hours in detention.

He settled for linen and polyester. Both weren’t itchy (in the case of some woolen clothes) nor did they need too much maintenance such as leather (conditioning, protecting it away from sunlight, keeping it dry, you get the gist). They stretched pretty far and felt cool to the touch, the thickness was always on the thinner side so it provided great comfort.

The same can be said for his pants. Shu isn’t too picky about the fabric itself, but rather how nice they feel and wrap around his body. If he’s wearing tight stiff denim, they’d be hard to sleep in due to the lack of circulation and rough fabric chaffing on his knees and other plush areas.

All of his clothes are wrinkled. From childhood until now, he has always gotten the best quality clothes since Beatrix never wanted to settle for less and has never had anything secondhand due to his position as the eldest. This deepened the wedge in his relationship with Reiji since Shu never had to take care of his clothes due to how many Butlers were willing to break their backs, just to seem more favorable in front of young Shu.

Reiji, on the other hand, was seen as the lesser of the two so the only Butlers he had were old gentlemen who couldn’t be bothered to put on a facadé of kissing up to the eldest.

After they started living in the Manor, things changed and Shu never bothered to learn how to iron clothes, delegating this task to the mercy of his brother.

Wears brand names because most of the clothes in his wardrobe are from when his mother was still alive. All of these brands are what the Old Money rich families buy from so Brunello Cucinelli, Hermès, Saint Lauren, Burberry, Ermenegildo Zegna, and much more. Shu, at the end of the day, is still the Crown Prince, no matter how simple and down to Earth he dresses.

Doesn’t wear too many accessories except for squared black sunglasses. Nothing too flashy plus it provides coverage away from the harsh rays of the sun. He never puts care into storing them though. Shu chucks them in his pockets and doesn’t care if they bend or break so he’s gone through a bunch. He chooses squared frames because some frames wrap around his head, for example, Oakleys. Stays away from squared frames where the lenses are way too minuscule to even be called sunglasses.

Adding more to this, he doesn't like thin-framed glasses due to the same storing problem he has.

Wears Skechers slip-ons. Loafers were his go-to’s until he discovered the memory foam insoles that Skechers provided. Goes with darker colors and is against wearing the more colorful variety because he knows that Laito will use it against him in an argument.

“I don’t want to hear that from a fake pervert.”

“You wear Skechers and expect me to take you seriously?”

The Biggest Skechers Defender. Don’t say anything bad about Skechers.

The color palette of most of his outfits is light colors. Since Shu sleeps a lot, it’s not certain whether he’s sleeping in or out of the manor. Because of this, he wears light colors most of the time so that the Sun won’t scorch him alive when he’s napping somewhere. Knowing Shu, he doesn’t use sunscreen unless they’re going on a more tropical family vacation so he’d get sunburnt and the feel of the heat of the sun is more prominent since vampires are much more receptive to weather conditions due to how their senses differ from humans. (will explore in a future post about vampire body anatomy and senses headcanon)

Pale yellows, hues of whites, and umber are his daily colors.

His clothes fit snugly. Not too tight and it has some looseness to it. Shu’s pants go back and forth on this pendulum where some pants fit around his waist and some pants where the bottom hem of some pants are wide and reach to the floor - to the point where they look like bell-bottom jeans. His shirts and tops though are always spacious and the only joint where it sits comfortably is his broad shoulders.

A big whore for light sweaters because they vaguely remind him of his mother. As a child, in the harsh winter of the Demon World, Beatrix would dress him up in heavy cotton sweaters where there were little to no designs for a child to enjoy. Yet it was one of the closest affectionate things Beatrix has done to care for Shu, outside of anything studious. Doesn’t know how to emotionally process whether he should loathe his mother for the lack of motherly love he received that out of all things, THIS was the apex of ‘love’ or if he should be happy that this is a fond memory he can remember her by.

Said sweaters are very light that you can almost see through them.

Moving on to his essentials, he prefers earphones to headphones. Though headphones are much more comfortable over long time use since they sit around the ear rather than inside and also have the benefit of having noise cancellation, earbuds/in-ears are more portable and easier to sleep in. Shu doesn't have to worry about them bending or snapping as he dozes off plus they’re easier to afford than most high-end headphones.

The price of one high-end headphone is enough for two high-end earphones. With how fast and quick Shu goes through a pair, he values the availability and portability the earphones provide.

Wears a pair of ZSN Pro X. The earphones are made from metal and resin so they’re more durable than most earphones you’d find on the market. These earphones are in-ears, where the cable/wire is detachable if any harm or knicks have damaged them. As long as the earphones are intact, you can just replace the broken wire instead of paying for another pair of earphones, which can save costs in the long run.

They’re also in the shape of an ear hook so that while he’s thrashing in his sleep, the earphones will be hard to remove from his ear, allowing him to nap in peace for a little bit longer.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik brothers #sakamaki shu #diabolik lovers headcanons #headcanons

194 notes · View notes

ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

love me softly (ds4)

love me softly (deleted scenes)

Tommy Hagan’s house is a monster.

It’s fucking massive, and Gareth doesn’t know what to do with himself. He kind of wants to turn around, to take off on his bike back down Hackett Close until he doesn’t even remember how to get there, but he came all this way. And his chest is still aching in a way that makes him want to cry, and he still kind of wants to cry, to sob, and he just kind of needs Tommy.

His mother answers the door when he knocks, and Gareth immediately wishes he didn’t look like himself, as her eyes scan over his unruly hair and the silver ring through his septum, over his pin-covered jacket and ripped jeans and dirty chucks. Because she looks so perfect, with his perfectly styled hair that he’s seen in magazines, and the apron that’s spotless despite the sauce-covered spoon in her hand. She raises an eyebrow, glancing past him.

“Who are you?”

“Uhm, I’m– I’m Gareth, I’m a friend of Tommy’s,” he stutters out. “Is he… here?”

She hesitates, looking him up and down again before she sighs and steps aside, letting him in.

“Upstairs, second bedroom on the right. Take your shoes off.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Gareth has to bend down to unlace them before he can set them neatly aside by the door, and she watches. He can feel her staring, can feel her eyeing the studs on his belt and the rings on his fingers, but neither of them says anything as he heads toward the lavish stairway. She watches him go up the stairs, and he hears her sigh again.

There are framed photos on the walls. Tommy isn’t smiling in very many of them.

His door is closed when Gareth finds it, plain and white with a small, uppercase T on it, and Gareth hesitates before knocking. Tommy’s voice sounds hesitant as he calls a tired, “Yes?”

Gareth pushes the door open. The doorknobs are spherical. Gareth’s aren’t.

“Hey,” Tommy says, surprise coloring his voice, when he sees Gareth. He’s sitting in his bed, back to the wall, a comic book in his lap.

“Your mom let me in,” Gareth says even though obviously she did, Gareth didn’t just break in. His eyes look around the room as he steps inside and shuts the door behind himself. There are a few posters on the walls, movies that Gareth’s seen in theatres, covering the faded, floral wallpaper, along with a painting that Gareth recognizes as Steve’s, colorful and abstract and messy. There are books and papers covering his desk and clothes covering his floor, and it looks warmer than the rest of the house does.

Tommy seems to see what’s in Gareth’s head, and he gestures next to himself on the bed with a nod. Gareth exhales and takes off his jacket, setting it on the desk chair before he joins him, sitting with his back to the wall and looking across the room, at the blue towel hanging on the back of his door.

The sunlight is fading.

“You okay?” Tommy asks after a few quiet moments.

Gareth shrugs.

There’s another pause, and then Tommy is closing his comic, setting it aside, and lifting an arm up to wrap it around Gareth’s shoulders. Gareth’s chest tightens, and his eyes burn, and he leans against him as Tommy wraps his other arm around him, holding him tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Gareth squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face into Tommy’s chest, letting himself cry.

Tommy’s hands run over his back, over his arms, over his head, and the whole time he’s murmuring to him, whispering that he’s okay, that it’s okay, that Tommy has him, and part of Gareth actually believes him. ’S alright, Gary, I got you, don’t worry.

The room is darker when he finally stops crying, and he can feel that there’s a wet spot on Tommy’s shirt, but he doesn’t sit up. (He doesn’t think Tommy would even let him sit up if he tried.) He just settles, shifting so he can reach up to wipe his own face, taking a long deep breath that shakes as he exhales. Tommy’s face is pressed to the top of his head.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Gareth takes another breath, pressing his face to Tommy’s chest a little harder. He’s curled up now, legs drawn to his chest as he leans against Tommy, feeling small with his arms around him. He closes his eyes again.

“I just…” His voice is rough, and he pauses to clear his throat. “I don’t know. I’m having a shitty day. Week. Nothing is working for me, and I failed a test that I studied for weeks for, and Peterson won’t even tell me what I did wrong. And I haven’t been able to sleep, and I’m just…” He trails off, shrugging weakly as Tommy squeezes his upper arm. “I’m tired.”

“You wanna stay here for a while?” Tommy asks quietly.

Gareth swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes stinging again.

“Your mom won’t mind?” he asks, his voice wobbly.

“Who cares?”

Gareth scoffs, laughing wetly, and Tommy runs his hand over his head again, through his hair.

“‘S okay,” he says softly.

Gareth exhales, turning his face into Tommy’s chest, bringing a hand up and holding his shirt, gripping it in a loose fist. Tommy’s hand slides to his forearm, brushing over his skin, over the shitty sun that Eddie tattooed onto him a few months ago. It’s near his elbow, small and shaky and nervous-looking, and Tommy loves it even though Gareth doesn’t know why. He once said it looks childish when Gareth asked why he likes it so much, and Gareth just laughed. Tommy shrugged and said that’s why. Gareth is starting to get it, though. They all feel like they’ve grown up a bit too fast, and over the summer they decided to just be kids again. The tattoo looks like a kid did it, because a kid did. And Gareth will have it forever.

He slumps over, relaxing as Tommy rubs his back gently, and Tommy whispers that he can go to sleep if he wants to.

He ends up laying down next to him, still curled up into a ball, his head on Tommy’s lap, his breathing growing steady and slow and calm as Tommy plays with his hair, untangling his curls until they’re frizzy and fluffy.

Tommy watches him fall asleep. He plays with his hair, touches the side of his face with feather-light touches to gather the strands that have fallen, watches the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He’s kind of beautiful, Tommy thinks, gazing at the red that’s flushed over his cheeks, at his wet eyelashes and the still glistening tear track down his cheek. His expression is relaxed, his resting face almost content, almost smiling, light and soft.

Tommy doesn’t panic when the door opens and his mom steps in, suspicion already shining in her eyes when they find them there, Gareth sleeping like a child with his head in Tommy’s lap, one hand tucked under his chin, the other holding onto Tommy’s leg loosely.

“Yes?” Tommy says quietly. She pauses, looking at them, at Tommy’s fingers in Gareth’s hair, and then she glances down the hall and shuts the door behind herself.

She sits on the bed next to Tommy’s legs, eyes trained on Gareth, and a surge of protectiveness washes over Tommy. He wants to hide him from her, to protect him from her eyes. She looks up at Tommy, and she must see it, because she moves away a little bit, sitting on the very edge of the bed. Her expression softens as they stare at each other, unblinking, like Tommy’s challenging her.

“Is he okay?” she asks quietly.

Tommy blinks, hesitating, searching in her eyes for malice, for manipulation, but she just looks… worried. She looks at Tommy’s hand in his hair again.

“He’s having a bad week. Hasn’t been sleeping well.”

She’s quiet again. Gareth breathes quietly, ignorant of her eyes on him.

“What’s his name?” she asks, her voice still soft. “He told me when he came in, but I don’t…”

“...Gareth.”

She nods.

Tommy doesn’t know how to feel. His suspicion fades as she looks at Gareth, her expression soft, almost curious, and it feels almost peaceful here with them, listening to them breathe.

“Are you in love with him?”

Tommy blinks again, startled by the question, by her softness, by the way she’s looking at him. He can’t remember the last time she looked at him like this, this kindly. He almost wants to cry.

“Platonically,” he says softly, almost whispering, “yeah.”

She smiles softly, tilting her head, and the lines around her eyes deepen. It’s pretty.

“It’s okay if you are,” she says gently.

“We’re friends,” he says. “Really.”

She nods, looking at him like she doesn’t quite believe him, but he finds that he doesn’t really actually care.

She’s quiet again. Tommy runs his hands through Gareth’s hair. She watches.

“Do you need anything?” she asks after a few moments.

“Not… right now,” he says hesitantly, looking up at her again. She nods. He looks back at Gareth’s sleeping face.

There’s another stretch of silence until her voice says, whispers, “I love you.”

He doesn’t react, even as the words wash over him, even as he realises he doesn’t remember the last time he heard those words come out of her mouth. He just keeps gazing at Gareth, keeps touching his hair.

“Why are you doing this?”

He can feel her eyes on him. (They have the same eyes. Everything else is from his father. Including the freckles.)

“Tommy…”

“Please stop.”

She exhales, hesitating for a moment before,

“Let me know if you need anything.”

He just nods when she doesn’t move, and he doesn’t look up or say anything as she leaves quietly, shutting the door gently behind herself. Then his eyes fill with tears, and he doesn’t even know why he’s crying.

She hasn’t talked to him like that in ages. Not since he was Troy’s age, not since before he started looking like his father. Maybe he missed it. Maybe he wishes he never had it in the first place.

He does wonder why now, of all times, she decided to be… a mother. To care. Why now. Just because he has a boy sleeping in his lap? Because she thinks he’s gay? Because he can’t be like his father if he is?

Tommy lets his head fall back to the wall with a sigh, pulling his hand from Gareth’s hair to wipe his face. Gareth takes a sharp breath, exhaling slowly as he shifts, rolling over so his face presses into Tommy’s belly, and Tommy looks down at him, his vision blurred from his tears. He wipes them away before they can fall to Gareth’s face, and he brushes Gareth’s hair back as gently as he can.

He falls asleep there, his fingers in Gareth’s hair, and he wakes up when Gareth stirs, stretching and sitting up slowly, sleepily. Tommy blinks his eyes open, finding him rubbing his face. His hair is fluffy, and Tommy smiles.

“How long was I out?” Gareth asks, his voice rough. Tommy shrugs. “Mm.”

He stretches again and Tommy twists his back, shifting where he’s sitting. When he turns there’s a mug on his bedside table. It wasn’t there earlier.

“Thank you,” Gareth says quietly. Tommy smiles, ignoring the mug and reaching out to touch his chin, tilting his head up as Gareth leans in to kiss him softly.

“You can come over whenever,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over Gareth’s jaw, and Gareth nods silently, leaning in to hug him tightly.

Tommy picks up the mug as Gareth puts his jacket back on. It’s over-steeped tea. Cold now, but he recognizes the smell as his mother’s favorite. Anger settles in his chest. It’s an odd feeling, the slow creep of it before it stays there, just sitting instead of bursting like it usually does. He wants to throw the mug at the wall, to smash it, to act out, but he hears Gareth zip his jacket and he turns around, his eyes finding him looking around the room in the dim evening light, and he ignores it again.

He leads him downstairs quietly and as he’s reaching for the door handle, Tommy’s mother calls out a gentle, “Gareth, dear.”

They both freeze, and she appears from the living room. Her hair is down now, falling in natural waves, and she isn’t wearing makeup anymore. She’s wearing pajamas, a matching set of purple with flowers.

“...Yes, ma’am?”

She hesitates, glancing at Tommy, who’s glaring at her even though he doesn’t notice himself doing it, glancing at the mug in his hands.

“Come by if you ever need anything,” she says kindly. “Okay?”

Tommy looks at the floor, biting his lip as he seethes silently, and Gareth glances at him before he says unsteadily, “Okay.”

She stands there, watching as Tommy grabs Gareth’s hand and squeezes it, murmuring a quiet, “Call me when you get home.”

Gareth squeezes back, looking at him curiously, confused.

“I will.”

Tommy watches from the doorway until Gareth is on his bike, watches as Gareth waves one last time and takes off down the road, his hair flying in the wind behind him, and he shuts the door.

Neither of them says anything, quiet as Tommy goes to the kitchen, and he knows she can hear as he pours the cold tea down the drain and leaves the mug in the sink.

He goes upstairs without looking at her.

He waits on his bed for his phone to ring, laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling, thinking. Wondering where his father is right now. Wondering what his mother is doing. What would happen if he just… left. If they’d miss him. If Troy would even notice.

The phone startles him when it rings, and he rolls over, laying on his stomach as he reaches to it, closing his eyes as he brings it to his ear.

“Hey.”

“I’m home.”

Tommy smiles.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Gareth says. His voice is soft, whispering. “Gonna tell my parents about… this week. Just so if I’m being a dick they know why.”

Tommy laughs softly, just exhaling.

“Probably a good idea.”

He hasn’t talked to his parents like that… ever, he doesn’t think. It’s not something they really seem to care about. His feelings. His grades. His friends.

He could see the judgement in his mother’s eyes as she came into the room before she spotted Gareth asleep in his lap. Could see how much she wanted to criticize him. To criticize Tommy for being friends with him.

He didn’t even recognize the way her eyes shined at him when she sat down. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t the mother he’s known since he was a child, the mother that complained about his freckles, complained that his hair wasn’t presentable, that complained about her own stretch marks and wrinkles and blamed him. The one that would tell him You’d better not turn into your father when he was trying to memorize multiplication tables in the living room, even though the only stable expectation the world had ever really had for him was that he be exactly like his father.

Gareth is quiet.

“Your mom seems nice.”

Tommy shifts, laying his head on his forearm.

“She’s not.”

“...Okay.”

Tommy sighs, listening to Gareth breathe.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“...I’m mad at my mom.”

“Why?”

“She’s trying to act like she hasn’t been a terrible mother my whole life.”

“Why is she acting fine now?”

“I think—” He hesitates, sighing again, swallowing, focusing on the faint static on Gareth’s end. “She hates my dad. Like, a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“And I look like him. And I think she just… associated me with him. Assumed I’m like him. And she… She came in while you were sleeping, I think just to snoop, but she switched up, like, as soon as she saw us, and I think— She thinks we’re together, like, romantically, and she thinks now that I can’t be like my father, so she’s being nice.”

“...Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“What did she say when she came in?”

“Just… Asked if you were okay, if I needed anything. Said she loves me. …I don’t remember the last time she said that to me.”

“What did you say?”

“Told her to stop. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Do you think… she’s trying to apologize?”

“Maybe. But I don’t… I don’t know if I want to forgive her. Or, like… if she gets to apologize. You know?” He shifts, rolling onto his back and looking at the ceiling. “She’s a shitty mom my whole life, blames me for shit I couldn’t control when I was a kid, bitched to me about my dad cheating on her before I even really knew what that meant, and now that she has confirmation that I’m not like him, now she wants to apologize.”

“That’s not fair,” Gareth whispers.

“No,” Tommy whispers back. “It’s not.”

“You don’t have to forgive her,” Gareth says. “You’re not responsible for her feelings. She was responsible for you as a kid, but…”

“Yeah,” Tommy breathes. He closes his eyes again.

They’re quiet for a while, just listening to each other’s breathing and static. Tommy wants to fall asleep here with him, but he knows Gareth is standing in the hallway of his house, leaning against the wall with the phone to his ear, and after a few minutes of silence, Gareth quietly says, “My dad’s home.”

Tommy sighs, blinking his eyes open.

“Go,” he says softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you,” Gareth says quietly, and the words make Tommy smile. They sound so much nicer in his mouth than in his mother’s. He usually follows them up with asshole or the like, but he doesn’t now, his voice careful and tender, and Tommy kind of wants to cry with it.

“I love you too.” He keeps listening until the quiet click of Gareth hanging up, until the line goes dead, and then he reaches to put the phone away and rolls over to go to sleep.

#this was meant to be a gareth character study and it turned into tommy oops #might have a part 2 idk #if i think of more stuff for it we shall see #gareth emerson #gareth emerson fanfic #tommy hagan #tommy hagan fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #love me softly

27 notes · View notes

pretendfan · 2 years

Text

{{{Time of the Month}}}

WARNING 18+ ONLY {minors DNI}

(A/N OK, so I wrote this for when I’m feeling horny/ on my period future me will thank me a LOT🤣 so I started writing and it escalated, it’s cute, funny and has a steamy helping of smut (period sex🩸) to finish! Can’t decide what Adrian gif to use, we all know how HOT he is in this scene💦)

(Pairing)

Adrian Chase x F! Reader

(Summary)

The arrival of your period has you in a very bad mood to say the least, that is until your amazing boyfriend Adrian knows exactly what to do to make you feel better.

{it’s a period sex fic}

(Words)

5k+

(Warnings)

Period sex, oral sex (female receiving), Vaginal fingering, mentions of periods and cramps, bad jokes, Adrian chase gets it done, reader knows Adrian is Vij, established relationship cuteness…WARNING 18+ ONLY {minors DNI}

“I’ve had the time of my life..”

Having seen this film countless times whilst being fully aware of the problematic story line you couldn’t help but happy cry every single time that Johnny saved Baby from the fate of her being put in the corner.

Grabbing a tissue you wipe the tears away from your eyes which were probably bloodshot but you didn’t care because you were sulking.

Today was the first day of your period and you needed sugary sweets followed by any film you knew that made you cry, wallowing in your own self pity whilst taking painkillers for the cramps which were currently trying to rip you apart.

You knew your boyfriend Adrian was finishing work soon so you would have to call time on rewatching Dirty Dancing on repeat in favour of hiding in your bedroom or in the bath until your mood improved.

Of course you loved Adrian, every single little thing about him you adored but with the mood you were currently in you needed to be alone even though he wouldn’t understand that.

You suffered with heavy cramping that felt like someone was slicing you from the inside, which did nothing to help your headache or the inane urgency to either bite someone’s head off or burst into tears almost at will.

Once the credits rolled on the film you instinctively grabbed the remote and put it back to the beginning, one more time wouldn’t hurt, it was cathartic.

Pulling your hood over your head you try to hide under it as you hug yourself to your knees focusing instead on the opening of the film, then remembering how deeply annoying Baby’s older sister was in this, to finally recognising the mom from somewhere but you couldn’t figure out what show it was from.

You are pulled away from your thoughts when you hear keys in the front door, then seconds later Adrian appears in his Fennel Fields uniform with a brown paper grocery bag under his right arm.

“Ugh, Dirty Dancing?” Scoffs Adrian with a scrunch of his nose aimed in your direction.

“I’m allowed to like this movie-“

“Yeah, but there are so many better films, actually anything is better than this!” Adrian cuts you off with a chuckle as he pulls his work hat from his head, closely followed by the beige apron chucking them both onto the kitchen counter.

“Why do we have to have this argument-“

“It’s a discussion not an argument.” Adrian states watching you carefully as he then asks in a softer tone “So, if you’re sitting there crying over this film for the millionth time am I right in thinking that your period is here?”

“I don’t want to talk about it you don’t understand-“

“Hey! Don’t shut me out.” Adrian tells you walking away from the kitchen counter to bend down on his knees in front of you whilst you try to avoid his green eyes.

“Yes, I am on my period, I’m a mess, been literally sitting here all afternoon-“ You trail off realising suddenly how pathetic you sounded right now.

“Let me look after you.” Adrian states taking one of your hands in his rubbing his thumb in circles against your fingers, it was very distracting.

“I can look after myself.“ You remind him dutifully.

“I know you can!” Adrian cheers with a smile then states “ Baby you are amazing but when you’re feeling low I’m here for you, hell I’m here for you all time but right now in this moment. I want to be here doing all I can to make you happy.”

“I know, thank you.” You tell Adrian with a smile leaning forward to give him a kiss which he happily accepts.

“Let me run you a bubble bath!” Adrian announces, moving his lips from yours as he states this idea with a smile.

“Ok, sure.” You nod not wanting to say no to Adrian when he was trying so hard to think of you and anticipate your needs, it was something you weren't used to courtesy of previous boyfriends but right this second you welcomed it.

Perhaps a soak in the tub would help your mood and the warm water would definitely help your cramps which were relentless right now.

Heading to the bedroom that you shared with Adrian you pull out some pjs from your drawer and grabbing some new underwear you follow the noise of water running in your bathroom, thinking this would be bliss, some more time to collect your thoughts before spending the evening with Adrian.

But when you step into the bathroom you are surprised to see that Adrian has stripped out of his uniform and was standing there in grey fitted boxers, complete with a smile on his face.

“I’m in desperate need of a bath so I thought we could share one, and of course, I would wash your hair and administer cuddles when needed.” Adrian grins like that was the best idea ever, it did sound pretty good but you also wanted to be left alone.

“I kind of wanted-“

“Please let me stay with you!” Adrian cuts you off pleadingly whilst pulling that puppy dog face you knew that you could not resist, he was fully aware of this fact too.

“Ok, fine!” You state with a roll of your eyes that Adrian doesn’t see, he is too busy doing an impromptu happy dance, bouncing on his feet then quickly dropping his boxers, he kicks them off, stepping into the bath. He sits down happily, covering himself in bubbles as he grins back at you.

Your eyes glance over at Adrian who is smiling at you with his boyish grin because he clearly just noticed you checking him out, but could anyone blame you when he looked like that.

Adrian was deceptively tall and slim but underneath his clothes he was all toned muscles and those damn lines below his hips that always invited you to look at them then glance down, it was always torture.

Adrian liked to hit the gym nearby the apartment; this only occurred when he wasn’t working at the restaurant or out late at night serving his own form of justice as Vigilante.

You knew the cute guy in your tub was a killer but he just killed criminals, usually, and as long as he always came home to you then you were almost at peace with what he did.

Spending the littlest amount of time thinking it over, you knew Adrian was Vigilante and that was that, you could never change his mind to stop what he did, it was a part of him.

“You need less clothes to get in the bath, silly.” Adrian informs you bringing you back into the bathroom and finally away from your straying thoughts as ,with a shake of your head, you start to strip.

“Ha ha, super funny Adrian.” You tell him in a deadpan voice which makes him smirk back at you, his green eyes watching you as you pull down your old shorts that you probably looked ridiculous in but during the time of the month were your best friend.

“You’re so hot you're steaming my glasses up!” Adrian laughs as you take off your hoodie and tee shirt underneath to catch the cute smile appearing on his face as he takes off his glasses and places them on the side of the bath.

But you tell Adrian to turn around as you lose your period underwear (no pads or cups needed, what a time to be alive!) and even though you hear him grumble he does as he is told, then seconds later you step into the bath standing between your boyfriend’s legs.

Adrian dutifully moves so his back is now against the bath and you quickly sit down between his legs not too close that you were flush against his back, even though you kind of wished you were.

Dammit, being this close to a naked Adrian and of course on your period, you suddenly felt your pussy muscles throb which was good for your cramps just not your mood which takes an inevitable turn for the sexy.

Being horny on your period was both equal parts frustrating and fun but you also had to be feeling good to participate so one clearly negated the other, it was a bitch to say the least (fuck you Mother Nature!)

Right now you felt bloated, sore and of course horny as hell thanks to being near Adrian who was all lean muscles and cheeky smiles, especially when he had noticed you checking him out earlier.

Feeling Adrian’s warm and wet skin slide against yours as your legs brush against each other it makes you move your ass to get comfortable, which in turn makes Adrian groan, you bite your bottom lip in response from hearing the delightful noise.

“If you keep doing that we might have a problem.” Adrian chuckles as you shake your head but stop when you hear him say “But right now the focus is on you and I’m here, all night long.”

Adrian is true to his word as he washes your hair awkwardly with the shower head but it makes the both of you giggle, you completely forget about feeling shitty even if just for a few minutes.

Next Adrian watches as you wash yourself, noticing him leaning back from you even though his eyes are focused on your soft breasts covered in soapy bubbles.

“Your turn.” You twist around moving your knees up towards Adrian’s chest grabbing the cloth to clean him with but he takes your wrist in his hand pulling you closer as he deepens a kiss into your surprised lips, which once they get the memo seconds later, respond in kind.

Placing a kiss on the seam of your lips Adrian starts to send wet kisses down your neck, which feels really good as your pussy starts to flutter at the idea of this going further, causing a soft hint of a sigh to escape your mouth.

Instinctively you place a hand round the back of Adrian’s neck pulling him closer as he accepts this but when his head dips lower to kiss the top of your breasts you have to push him away before it gets too much.

“I can’t-“

“We can stop!” Adrian states wrapping his arms around your middle as you turn round to face the taps again, despite your body crying out for more attention suddenly, because that kiss had sparked a flame right to your core leaving you with a thundering dull ache between your legs.

Adrian continues to cuddle you whilst you imagine his hands all over your body, suddenly consumed by the idea of him fucking you senseless, which was a specialty of his because the boy liked to fuck.

But period sex had never come up between you, Adrian usually approached with caution when it was that time of the month, respecting your boundaries and need to eat all of the cookies in the plastic tray, even though you always felt kinda sick afterwards

“Tell me what you're thinking about?” Adrian asks, hugging you tighter around your middle as he leans his firm chest into your back which makes you lick your bottom lip, but telling yourself to get a grip you decide to stand up in the bath instead.

“Or we can get out?” Adrian questions making you look back after literally jumping out of the tub to grab a towel, seeing the hurt look briefly pass across your boyfriends face which makes you feel awful.

“Here.” You hand Adrian a fresh towel from the cupboard under the sink which he accepts but a slow smile spreads across his face when he spots you checking him out, again.

His thick semi hard dick was just begging to be sucked, the very thought making your pussy clench around nothing so you look away before you did something stupid, what if Adrian wasn’t into period sex?

Considering the other things you have done as a couple you smile at that idea plus the fact Adrian was obviously used to blood so it wasn’t that far out there, just you knew from past history that some dudes were grossed out by it.

Adrian silently leaves the bathroom which was very unlike him to be quiet for that long. You just hoped that you hadn’t put him in a bad mood.

Quickly getting dressed into your most comfortable PJ’s which didn’t really excite the imagination, you start to feel conflicted suddenly thanks to being turned on after the bath, but you were also upset at the idea of annoying Adrian.

Hearing the TV on in the bedroom you walk in to see Adrian sitting on the edge of his bed studying something on his phone, he looks sheepishly when he spots you watching him.

“I thought we could watch a movie?” Adrian asks with a quick smile appearing on his face as he adds “But Dirty dancing isn’t allowed.”

“Ok.” You smirk back pretending to look sad which makes Adrian roll his eyes back towards the ceiling.

Not actually wanting to be left alone anymore despite desperately wanting that earlier you quickly dry your hair whilst Adrian looks from the TV, back to you, then back at his phone.

Choosing a mindless comedy to switch your brains off to and styling your medium length hair into a messy bun on top off your head, you finally join Adrian on the bed getting comfortable as you snuggle into your pillow.

As soon as the film starts Adrian begins talking over it, either quoting the scene perfectly or telling you who the actor on screen was even though you hadn’t asked him any questions.

Feeling an impending cramp attack you try to hide your discomfort but when Adrian looks up and spots the face you're pulling he puts his phone down and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Are you ok?” Adrian asks with concern in his voice which makes you both melt and feel turned on at the same time, what was wrong with you? Oh yeah, fucking period causing your hormones to rebel at the worse possible time.

You just nod and give up on moving away from Adrian’s body; you lean into him instead and he welcomes his other arm into the cuddle as he embraces you, smelling of fresh soap and his favourite deodorant on his skin as you place a hand on his thigh causing his muscles there to flex.

“I need words you know, baby.” Adrian states as you look away from the TV and he asks “Did the bath help at all?”

You laugh at this question then, noticing the confused look pass across Adrian’s face, you quickly add truthfully “ I think it has made things worse.”

“Really!?” Adrian cries out affronted by the idea which makes you smile at him whilst he looks a little put out.

“I will be ok-“

“Do you still have any cramps?” Adrian cuts you off with a question suddenly, eyes looking directly at you as if he was eager for your response.

“Yes they haven’t disappeared.” You nod in the affirmative still clenching around nothing as the pressure from the period had lit up all your nerve endings making you feel like you wanted to sit on Adrian’s lap and order him to fuck you.

“Well I’ve just read online that orgasms can help relieve cramps.” Adrian elaborates confidently with a nod in your direction.

“No shit!” You joke back with a laugh but stop when you see the eager look on Adrian’s face

“I mean,I could help you with that I would-“

“It would be too messy.” You cut off Adrian then add with a sly grin in his direction “I usually just spend a few more extra minutes in the shower than normal to help myself out.”

“Damn, that’s hot.” Adrian nods with a wide smile but then states “ But isn’t sex supposed to be messy and you kind of drove me insane back there in the bath, and like I said earlier I am here to please you, in any way.”

“Any way at all?” You ask Adrian in a teasing voice leaning your face up towards him which makes his lip curl up into a smile, dimples framing his cheeks in the process, making you internally swoon at how pretty he was.

“Just let me know what you need.” Adrian replies feeling his warm breath as he rubs his nose against yours whilst inching his soft lips closer but he pulls back before you can meet him halfway.

“I need you to stop teasing me.“ You practically growl at him which makes his face light up with a smile that blinds you temporarily, until you finally add “Just use your hands and mouth to make me come hard.”

“As you wish.” Adrian quotes from your second favourite film of all time (The Princess Bride) which makes you grin as you lean forward aiming a heavy kiss right into his soft lips causing him to groan in response.

Placing a hand on Adrian’s chest you continue to make out with him whilst wrapped in his arms, feeling like there was no better place in the world than right here, but you were still feeling horny and this was just making the dull ache more painful.

Moving your hand up Adrian’s firm chest which felt smooth and delicious you slide your fingers around the back of his neck pulling him closer to you intensifying the kiss as your tongues press together and your grip on his neck gets firmer.

“Are you sure about this-“

“Yes! Just put your hands on me.” You tell Adrian who on cue snakes his hands around your waist as he moves you with ease into his lap your thighs straddling his which usually you loved but right now you felt a little cautious.

“You good?” Adrian asks, catching the look on your face as he moved his back further against the bed frame causing the bulge in his boxers to brush temptingly against your thigh.

“We haven’t done this before on my period and like I said it might get messy.” You tell him with a nod followed by an embarrassed smile.

“Do you really think I give a fuck about that?” Adrian asks in frustration, stating “ As long as you’re comfortable about this, I want to make you feel good, like you said with me using my hands and mouth.”

“I need this so bad-“

“Ok, so let’s make a fucking mess then!” Adrian cheers which makes you laugh but you stop when he moves you off him heading out of the bedroom.

Moments later he returns with dark burgundy towels which were both old and perfect as he grins back then says “Placing these on the bed because it’s time to please my girl.”

Smiling you kick the covers off the bed then watch as Adrian places down the two large towels then placing a hand on your lower back he moves you closer towards him noticing that cheeky glint in his eye that makes you grin back excitedly at him.

“So, where were we?” Adrian asks with a smirk but before you can reply he has moved above you, as you sink your back onto the bed, head on the pillows as your boyfriend looks down hungrily at you.

Seconds later he is kissing you again but then starts tracing his lips down your neck, down your front until he meets your tank top and grabbing onto the bottom he pulls it up as you help remove it over your head.

Adrian glances down at you with large eyes, pupils blown already as he dips his head placing his warm mouth over your soft breast sliding his tongue down to meet your pebbled nipple, the sensation against your skin making you shudder in anticipation.

“Does that feel good?” Adrian asks with a lazy smile whilst all you can do is nod, already lost in the moment, watching as he removes his glasses placing them on the small bedside table.

Adrian carries on teasing you with his mouth going far too slowly you wanted it faster as you tell him “Stop teasing me, normally I like that but right now I need-“

Adrian makes you forget what you were about to say as he grabs one of your breasts into his hand squeezing firm, but sure, that was exactly what you needed right now despite feeling sore you just wanted to be railed by him.

“You smell so good.” Adrian informs you moving back a little as he starts chasing hot kisses down to your stomach leading towards your shorts, his hands letting go of your breasts ghost over your skin as they reach their destination, your hips.

Lifting your ass up in the air Adrian takes the hint as he starts to slowly move the shorts down grabbing hold of your underwear also, and soon both are off and quickly chucked down beside the bed.

Noticing the intense way Adrian is looking at you, you go to close your legs but he stops you placing two hands roughly on the top of your thighs saying “You are gorgeous.” Over and over which has the desired effect of relaxing you back into the moment.

Flattening one of his hands on your stomach Adrian strokes his palm downwards until his thumb brushes ever so gently against your clit which sends a jolt through your body making him hitch a breath as you buck under his hand.

“Wow, someone’s sensitive did that feel good?” Adrian chuckles as you nod dumbly, arching your back whilst pushing your hips out showing him what you needed.

“More, I need more!” You demand with a sigh which turns into a gasp when you feel two fingers push your wet folds apart and he sinks them all the way inside, making your pussy wall clench hard around them.

“Fuck, I felt that!” Adrian groans which you mirror instantly when you feel his long fingers start pumping you and the feeling that this could be embarrassing evaporates because lust was clearly winning overall here.

“Don’t stop!” You tell Adrian, sounding out of breath as you close your eyes feeling the dull ache between your legs spread out into a warm heat that makes you smile to yourself.

“I want to suck on your clit so bad right now, let me eat you out please!” Adrian whines making you gasp as he abruptly stops fucking you with his fingers.

“Adrian you will get covered-“

Words escape you as you watch Adrian place his bloodied fingers into his mouth sucking hard as he licks them clean this makes your mouth fall open because it was so fucking sexy.

With a smug grin plastered on Adrian’s face he lowers his head placing a delicate kiss above your clit which makes you shiver, but seconds later he hits the right spot lapping his tongue across the bundle of nerves which makes you cry out in pleasure.

Placing both your hands on the back of his head you feel Adrian hold down your thighs when you realise you were wriggling about from the delicious sensation of his mouth over your pussy.

Swiftly gliding his tongue deeper inside you with every lick making you call out his name, when he hits a particular sweet spot that sees you careening over the edge into orgasmic bliss.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out practically shaking as Adrian grips your thighs, keeping you in your place as he continues to lick your core whilst your orgasm crests and you feel weightless, the cramps turning pleasurable as you feel your muscles flutter then eventually still.

“Was that good?” Adrian asks, looking up, making your eyes widen as you look past the confident smirk and focus on the blood smeared across his face instead.

“You look like the joker.” You blurt out with a laugh making Adrian roll his eyes, used to your bad jokes as he grabs at one of the towels to clean his face as you hand him a wet wipe from your bedside table.

“Did you know the Joker is like legit in love with Batman?” Adrian begins whilst your still coming down from your high and he continues talking “He makes people he fucks dress up like him, you know, costume and all, he even plans to get caught every time he commits some heinous crime just in the hope Batman can punish him, with his dick.”

“Where the hell did you hear that?” You ask pulling yourself up into your elbows rewarding Adrian with a disbelieving look, the pair of you did have some weird conversations sometimes.

“It’s true! I heard it from Peacemaker.” Adrian informs you confidently whilst you just shake her head with a smile, clearly it was a lie then.

Noticing Adrian readjusting himself in his boxers you clearly spot the tent he was pitching so you pull yourself up into a sitting position hand dipping below his waistband to grab his cock firmly.

“Ah! That feels so good!” Adrian groans as he dips his head watching your hand pull him free from his boxers snapping his hips towards you so you begin to jerk him off slowly.

Moving your head forward you go to wrap your mouth around his dick but Adrian leans back and in a frustrated voice stutters “ I-I want to fuck you.”

“I thought you’d never ask!” You smile back at Adrian who grins as he shoves down his boxers throwing them behind his head, landing somewhere in the bedroom then he leaps back onto the bed landing beside you with a chuckle.

Placing a hand on your hip Adrian twists you round so you are laying on your front, lifting your knees up so you are on all fours as you feel the tip of his cock pressing gently against your soaked cunt, even your thighs feel drenched at this point.

“Stop teasing-“ You don’t finish that sentence because Adrian pushes himself deep inside you completely filling you up as he bottoms out and you cry out in glorious surprise.

Gripping firmly onto your hips Adrian’s fingertips sink into your soft skin leaving marks you were sure to feel tomorrow morning as he fucked you at a punishing pace.

Dipping forward he laid draped across your back as he kissed the side of your neck then moving his mouth closer to your ear he said in a deep voice “ Play with your clit, tease your sweet pussy for me baby.”

You loved it when Adrian talked dirty and he knew that fact of course, playing on it as you move your right hand closer to your soaked pussy, shuddering as you ghost the pad of your thumb over your sensitive clit.

“How does that feel?” Adrian ask but before you can tell him he adds “Do you think about me fucking you like this when you’re alone in the shower, fingering your pussy whilst you imagine it being my talented cock.”

“Yes! I think of you licking my pussy and your thick cock, let me come on your cock please!” You beg out with a gasping breath that makes Adrian groan deeply as his thrusts start to lose momentum, he is starting to get strung out.

Wanting to catch up you start adding pressure to your clit as you rub two fingers around your nub in maddening circles which makes Adrian hitch his breath as he starts to fuck you hard again that relentless rhythm meaning that pretty soon you would be met with either your orgasm or demise, you couldn’t decide which yet.

“You're gonna make me come!” You yell as seconds later your wish comes true as you feel your pussy muscles clench hard around Adrian’s cock, as they start to flutter and spasm leading to him crying out as he finishes inside you, cursing under his breath as you stop moving your hand, laying your head down onto the burgundy towel on the bed.

“Wow! That was so good.” Adrian sighs happily as he pulls out of you and you anticipate his next words, or him actually screaming because he was covered in blood but instead there is silence.

“You ok there?” Adrian ask affectionately, patting your bare ass making you turn round to face him widening your eyes as you see him.

“I’m ok, but look at-“

“What? It’s just blood.” Adrian shrugs edging off the bed he grabs at one of the towels with a smirk on his face as he looks at you and says “Maybe we should have saved the bath till afterwards.”

“We can do that next time.” You smile shyly making Adrian chuckle back as he wraps the burgundy towel around his middle letting it hang low, showing off his abs and the lines below his hips that drove you wild, it truly was a sight to behold.

“So how are you feeling now?” Adrian asks you carefully, picking up his glasses from the bedside table and placing them carefully over his ears whilst readjusting them on his face.

“Tired but very satisfied.” You state with a grin which makes a faint blush appear on Adrian’s face.

“Good.” Begins Adrian with that smug look on his face as he asks “So, you don’t want to hop in the shower with me to clean up?”

Covering the other towel around your lower half you place some between your legs looking back up at Adrian you add “Ok, but only if I can show you what I get up to during those few extra minutes in the shower.”

“I can watch!?” Adrian asks in awe, making you roll your eyes but smile regardless at the excited look on your boyfriend's face.

“I might even have you help, you did say you would help me all night.” You tell him in a flirty voice which makes him chuckle back as you both walk to the bathroom holding hands.

“As you wish.” Adrian nods dipping down to kiss the top of your hand that you use to cup his face bringing him closer towards your lips once more feeling completely happy.

It was bliss, mood, what bad mood? You felt high on serotonin and crazy in love looking up at Adrian as he moved away to turn on the shower.

You felt safe, content and loved. There was no better feeling and you had Adrian to thank for being the world's best boyfriend, you needed to get him a medal with that written on immediately.

Someone needed to bottle up the essence of Adrian and sell it, he was amazing and all yours, sure he was a little fucked up but weren’t we all?

You had been put on this earth to protect Adrian at all costs and you were ready to face anything and everything with the guy in front of you.

“Come in! The water’s just right.” Adrian winks at you holding out a hand which you take, your mouth colliding with his as he pulls you tightly against his body, a hint of a smile teasing over your lips as his hands cling onto your waist.

Adrian was all yours and you needed every last drop of himself he could offer you, because you loved him he had made your life interesting and your heart full.

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x female reader #vigilante x reader #vigilante x female reader #adrian chase smut #it’s a period sex fic #adrian chase x imagine #vigilante x imagine #established relationship #eventually smutty #cute and fluff #funny jokes #bad jokes #adrian chase is a babe

308 notes · View notes