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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 month

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please do clarisse la rue x aphrodite reader who’s gorgeous and glowing and short like a ball of sunshine

- opposites attract -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Aphrodite! Reader

An - ive gotta rewrite by Abby series bc it’s not going the way I want it 😭 I wasn’t really sure exactly what to write so I hope this is good 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

Everyone at camphalf blood knew who you were. Not for negative reasons however. Being a daughter of Aphrodite not only boosted your social status but it was also your actions.

The first to volunteer to help when the infirmary was low on staff, ready to take on any chore from helping run the camp store to labor jobs that required you to get dirty. Even when the saytrs felt as though they were being ignored by the demigods you helped give them their voice.

So when you of all people started dating clarisse the most intimidating person at camp it was a bit of a culture shock. Though with you sweet and kind nature you seemingly took the most aggressive cabin and somehow made them slightly calmer.

Though when people tried to approach clarisse about you her former aggressiveness would come back. Most things that involved you got her heated. The recent endeavor being you both Separated for the weeks capture the flag game.

“No you’re on my team it’s not for discussion” clarisse spoke as if she knew it was fact, her arms crossed and her armor on you couldn’t help but fall back in love with her.

“But it is for discussion because I’m not” you chuckled softly, a gentle smile crossing your features. “I’ll be fine Claire I’m not a child”

“I’m aware of that but what if someone on my team hurts you? Or what if you get hurt by one of our traps I don’t like not being able to protect you” she placed her hands on her hips trying to open her stance to you.

“Aww” you gave a playful frown tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Placing both hands on her cheeks you gave them a small squeeze. “I’m ok, besides I have charmspeak remember I know how to handle myself”

Her shifting weight and the look of annoyance on her face all showed she did care about you deep down, and as much as people wanted to Deny it clarisse was yours just as much as you were hers. “I’ll see you after the game pretty” stepping on your tippy toes you gave her a kiss.

Turning to start walking away clarisse began yelling instructions to you. “Wait! Make sure your breast plate is tight— oh! And be sure to wear a helmet an—-“

“I got it clarisse!” You laughed back at her, giving her a final wave.

——-

The games had already began with you being in charge of reclaiming the flag with Luke and his team.

Stepping through the forest you carefully looked around worried that maybe someone would jump out. Which like it was a movie happened. Red team kids running out with blades swinging. Blue team defending themselves and you mentally scolding yourself for not wearing enough armor.

Before you even realized it you had a deep cut in your calf. Landing on the ground with a cry of pain you looked back instantly having to dodge the falling camper.

“You good!” Luke shouted helping you up, limping some you found your balance breathlessly nodding. The red team currently had either been knocked to the ground or retreated in fear.

“The flags up ahead.. behind Zeus’s fist if I’m correct” you took a stance against a tree, using it as support. “I’m gonna stay here”

“You’re sure you’re fine” he asked cautiously. Even though luke knew clarisse couldn’t touch him he still didn’t want to hear her mouth afterwards.

You nodded giving him a semi confident look. “Just go” You chuckled sending him off.

Though it was quiet for a while you heard a crying like sound. Confused you pushed off the tree and started limping towards the noise. Through the trees and down to the creek you saw a hurt hell hound.

Most times you would of killed a monster without hesitation but this time… this time she wasn’t a monster. It seemed crazy but this hell hound almost seemed domesticated.

Slowly walking towards her You knelt down beside the dog. At first she bared her teeth at you acting as though you wanted to hurt her, but once she realized you meant no harm she pressed her snout against you.

Once gaining her trust you began to examine her leg. Realizing it was broken you made the conscious decision to quickly leave to grab some sticks for a splint. Petting the hound softly you got up limping away some.

The ground was filled with a multitude of twigs though finding your two heafty pieces of wood was easy. The sound of the conch and a campers scream filled your ears, nearly running back to the creek you saw about all of the kids from the two teams with clarisse and Luke in the creek, their weapons aimed at the hound that looked as tough she was going to attack.

“Stop! Oh my gods stop!” You screamed running in-front of her causing clarisse to dodge to the side and roll fully into the creek.

“Move!” She shouted. The other campers looking equally confused as you shouted a no back at her. “Are You insane?! Don’t go near it” clarisse scrambled out the water to quickly grab your arm.

You turned around trying to pull free only to be unsuccessful. The tension around you made you want to cry but right now isn’t the time. “I need you to trust me… please” you practically begged.

She looked you up and down with a look of worry before gently letting you go. Without another thought you knelt down to the dog, ripping your shirt in half exposing your stomach and began wrapping the hounds broken hind.

The dog was huge, given that she was a monster she was bigger than even a Doberman and beefier than a pit but that didn’t mean she was aggressive.

A few of the other councilors walked down to the water with Chiron standing on a rock near by. “She’s harmless!” You shouted trying to get the defensive campers to become calm. “See! If she wanted to hurt anyone she would of!”

Your urgency only convinced maybe a handful of kids. “It’s a monster.” Clarisse scoffed.

“Yet she didn’t try to bite me when I put her leg into a splint” You corrected. The hound nudged her head into your leg in a comforting way, trying to get your hand to begin to pet her.

Annabeth took a step forward, extending a hand the hound sniffed her before licking up her arm. “Seems harmless to me” the wise girl shrugged.

Chiron made his way down looking across the water and holding a hand up signaling for every camper to relax. “This game is dismissed. Grover summon the Cloven council, get them to set up a meeting so we can figure out what to do for the hound, and for you.. keep her with you until we have a plan”

———

The following week camp halfblood had a new pet. A hellhound you named Rosie.

Sitting with clarisse by the lake letting the water run over your legs from the docs. I’m the distance you saw Rosie swimming around enjoying playing with the water naiads.

“How did you know she wasn’t ruthless” clarisse asked turning her head to look at you.

“I guess the same way I knew you weren’t as mean as everyone assumes. It’s your aura, Rosie’s was soft and hurt begging for any form of kindness” you turned looking at her. The sun light casted across clarisses features illuminating her eyes and skin. “Your so beautiful” you smiled leaning over and softly kissing her

Clarisse smiled wide returning the kiss. She pulled away only keeping her hand on the side of your face. “What did I do to deserve someone like you”

You shrugged your shoulders happily. “Working out helped”

She pulled away with a playful attitude. Causing you to laugh and reach out to her once more.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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stvolanis · 4 months

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Farleigh Start! Who tried to deny his feelings for you when you tagged along with Oliver to live at saltburn. He couldn’t stand your soft smiles, caresses and lingering stares; or the way you licked your lips when he was around, or at least that’s what he told himself.

Farleigh Start! Who didn’t miss the way you just had to touch him when he was in your vicinity. The gentle hand on his back, guiding him wherever you sit fit, even though he towered over you. The way your hands would touch when you reached for the same thing at diner, yet your hand always lingered a little longer. When you’d pass by him in a tight area and he could feel your ass pressed against him.

Farleigh Start! Who convinced himself that he hated you more than he’s hated anything, but when your touches and stares stopped, he felt helpless.

Farleigh Start! Who showed up at your bedroom door one night, and nearly came in his pants at the sight of you in a mesh robe; your body on display before him.

Farleigh Start! Who was taken aback when gripped his wrist, all but throwing him into your bed before locking your door with a distinctive ‘click’ before stripping off your robe, then proceeding to strip him of his clothes.

Farleigh Start! Who whimpered and whined under you as you fisted his weeping cock in your hand. His tip leaking pre-cum as you kissed his chest while muttering a string of praises of how good he was being for you.

Farleigh Start! Who look completely and utterly beautiful underneath you as you bounced up and down on his pretty cock. His skin glistening with sweat as he sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, furrowed brows and nearly cross-eyed.

Farleigh Start! Who’s on the verge of tears when you deny him his orgasm for the third time for being a brat the entire time you’ve lived at Saltburn. He’s a teary eyed, moaning mess. Drool dribbling down his mouth, words slurred. Pretty little thing couldn’t even focus on anything besides the way your cunt gripped and throbbed around him. Pussy drunk.

Farleigh Start! Who’s hairs messier than usual, lips plump and red, swollen from your attacks on them; who tried to stable himself by gripping onto the sheets below him as you slammed down onto him with a laugh at the way he was fucked out.

Farleigh Start! “Mommy, please, please—oh god” he whimpers out as he shoots his cum deep into you with a loud, drawn out moan, mouth hung agape. His hips wiggling as he tried to free himself from your agonizingly tight cunt, the overstimulation too much for him. “Such a good little slut for mommy, hm?” You mocked him; he nodded his head embarrassingly fast.

Farleigh Start! Who lays in your arms as you whisper sweet nothings to him, sleeping the best he has since you and Oliver’s arrival at Saltburn.

Farleigh Start! Who fumbles over his words and nearly stops everything he’s doing when you’re around, completely distracted with your kind eyes and smiles that you send him knowingly. Pussy was so good, he’s utterly smitten with you.

Farleigh Start! Who makes sure to come to your room nearly every night just to get slutted out by you again and again; using and milking him for everything he has to offer.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

Tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts

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jinuaei · 4 months

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Devotion

Self Aware! Yandere! Leon Kennedy × Player! Reader

Leon S. Kennedy was never a religious guy, never has he sought out God even during his darkest days. So when he first felt the pull when he entered the gas station, he thought nothing of it, disregarding it as his hangover (idk how it works I have never been drunk!!!) or just his curiousity. But that curiousity turns into fear when he sees the policeman getting devoured by another person. Rushing out the store he bumps into Claire, whom he pulled to safety towards the police car close to them.

The next time he felt the pull is when he got separated from Claire. With a blurry vision and a skull splitting headache, his body moves to an alleyway he doesn't recognize but somehow comes out a block from the station, it's looming form attracting Leon's eyes. Quickly he rushes to it's gates, doging and turning away from the people that tried to bite him. He is successful in this endeavour and rushes to lock the gate, blockading the front doors after entering the station. After that, it's been a constant tug of war with that pull wanting Leon to go somewhere and him trying to go against it, ultimately succumbing to it since no matter what he does his body won't listen to his mind. All of his constant rejection came to a stop when after Marvin saved him from getting mauled by a person-- no, zombie, not matter how much Leon tries to deny it they are now flesh eating zombies, not the humans he thinks they are. Before he could go into a panic attack with the reality of what is happening, the sudden vulnerability comes a warmth that almost made him pass out. God, a diety, or whatever the thing watching over him is, he could could feel it, he could feel YOU. He thinks of himself as stupid as he realizes that all that constant pulling was you trying to steer him away from danger. The warmth around him becomes hotter and hotter as he thinks more about what you've done for him to keep him safe, a shiver runs down his spine not from the cold but the intense emotion of devotion that overwhelms him. He doubles over in pleasure, his mind clouding with thoughts of you. Kneeling before Marvin sudden tears stream down his face, one would think of him as crying in fear, but his smile and the feverous blush on his cheeks hidden by his hair suggests otherwise.

He might not have sought God on his own but the deity watching over him definitely has, and he intends to keep that attention on him, and him only.

---------------

Extra:

You: *Pauses the game*

Leon: *Has a mental crisis of how he can't feel your warmth, crying bc you abandoned him, did he do something wrong? Do you hate him now???*

You: *Comes back and unpauses the game*

Leon: :D

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #yandere leon kennedy #yandere #re2 leon #Yandere leon kennedy x reader #Flashback to my Sagau days #Idea came from me playing re4 and Leon doing the “Not bad right?” Line #I always respond with “youre doing so well puppy” or “yeah? You think so pup?” also me apologizing everytime he gets hit #“youre fine puppy dont worry about it”#self aware resident evil #self aware leon kennedy x reader

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princessmisery666 · 2 months

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Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimal87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#dean winchester #jacklesversebingo23 #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

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faerygrant · 1 month

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Ultraviolence - Carmy x Reader

Summary : An interaction between Claire and Carmen leaves you questioning his loyalty to your relationship.

Carmy was a complicated man, that went without saying. He was a man riddled with untreated trauma that stemmed from an absent father and an alcoholic and unstable mother. Not to mention the complicated and for a very long time, codependent relationship between he and his brother. The only constant and non-toxic person Carmen Berzatto had in his life was his sister Natalie, well that was before he met you at-least.

While he had become a changed man and confronted his demons from the past, there was no denying that Carmen still had lots of issues he still hadn’t addressed in therapy. The sleep walking had stopped almost a year ago, which you were thankful for, especially after a night in which he accidentally woke up and nearly lit the house aflame. The anger issues however still persisted, as well as the avoidant personality and constant feelings of angst.

You could tell Carmen was happier, he now kissed you goodbye in the mornings and goodnight before bed, he smiled more, he cooled off on the self deprecating remarks and most of all, he let you in. The old Carmen was hard as rock, made of brick wall, refusing to allowing anyone into those walls he’d spent all those years building up in self defence. Yet now he was willing to talk things through, slowly but surely.

Like most winter nights when the city got dark by 5, you’d walk over to the bear from work so Carmy could drive the two of you back to your place. It made the both of you feel safer and you weren’t opposed to any extra time you could spend with you partner. It also didn’t hurt to see his coworkers, who you’d come to see as friends of your own.

Tonight however when you’d come into the restaurant it seemed the only people here were Natalie and Sydney who were out back doing stock count. They both greeted you, however their odd attitudes weren’t lost on you. The two of them were usually so happy to see you, friendly. Yet upon your entry into the restaurant they had both gone frigid.

“Where’s Carm?” You’d asked, pulling the slipping straps of your tote back onto your shoulder.

“T-the office.” Sydney motions awkwardly to the office and your brows furrow. Why were they both acting so off?

“You probably should wait-“ Natalie tries to say but you’re already bursting into the office, curious as to why they were being strange.

“You know I just missed you Bear.”

You’re not prepared for the site of what you walk into, Carmy’s “ex” who’s not his “ex” but is his “ex” stood with her arms wrapped around his neck trying to kiss him. Your heart all but sinks into your ass as you watch her lips meet his.

“What the fuck” you scream, and immediately the brunette is clambering away from your man. She innocently tucks a piece of hair behind her ears and then looks at Carmen before she pushed past you. Not even an ounce of guilt on her face.

“It’s not what it looked like, I promise.” Carmen says walking over to you, trying to grab hold of your hand.

“Then what the fuck was that, she kissed you Carmen!” You yell at him and both Sydney and Natalie are now stood in the doorway watching everything go down.

“It was nothing, she just…” He holds his hands in his hair as he paces back and forth between the office. Refusing to complete his sentence.

“Are you going to finish the sentence Carmen, man up and tell me why the fuck your ex girlfriend was in here just now, kissing you” Your shouting has Carmen exasperated, he wants to tell you but can’t even figure out how to start the conversation.

“Carmy just talk to her.” Natalie tries intervening but is met with Carmen throwing a staple gun against the wall.

“Sugar get the fuck out of here and give us some privacy”

“Carm!” You yell at him all at once Sydney screams “Carmy what the fuck” Both of you appalled at his childish display of violence.

“Can I have five fuckin minutes alone with my girl now?” They both roll their eyes and walk out of the office. “Asshole” Natalie mumbles before slamming the office door shut.

“So she calls you Bear, is there something you’re hiding?” You question as you walk closer to him, tears falling from your eyes.

“No baby, she just came here trynna sweet talk me about all this fuckin shut but I didn’t wanna hear it.” He tries taking you into his arms but you push him away, not fully ready to give into him.

“Don’t fuckin pull away from me baby, you know it drives me insane” he sighs defeatedly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Carmen just tell me why that girl was here, why she was kissing you.” The head from his head against yours somewhat calms you down, so does his smell and gentle touch.

“I told you, she wanted to talk and because of all that shit Dr. Murphy said in therapy about confronting your past not running from it, I thought I’d give her a chance to say her piece but she just took it as a chance to make a move.” He looks into your eyes, searching, no- hoping you’d believe him, he hated the feeling of losing your trust especially when he’d never lie to you.

“I just hated seeing that, her hands all over you and her mouth on yours, it hurt me Carm.” You finally allow yourself to fully give into his touch and he pressed a kiss to your lips, your manicured hand cupping his face, relishing in it.

“I know and I’m sorry, I only want you okay, you’re the only girl for me.” He whispers, causing you to whimper.

“Promise?”

“Hand on the fucking bible, I promise”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #the bear fic #reader x carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic

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capsicle-evans · 10 months

Text

The Make Believe Ms Evans

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: A PR marriage between Y/N and Chris Evans has skyrocketed their careers but their sex lives has never been this low. Up until now.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, ass play, swearing.

Part 1

“Stay still” Marina, my make up artist warns me as she applies my eyeliner. “Can’t fuck this up now”

“Claire would probably murder you” I grin as I feel the weight of Marina’s hand on my cheekbone. “Did you know that you make funny faces when you are doing my make up?”

“It’s my concentration face” She winks at me before setting the pen on the table. “There, all done”

“Just in time” I whisper as Claire enters the bathroom, a stern look on her face.

“Y/N, can you join us in the living room, please?” Claire, my publicist, asks me.

“Depends” I twist my mouth to the side. “Am I getting lectured?”

“Depends” She gives me the same look I just gave her. “Are you going to comply?”

“Ugh, fine I’ll join you” I roll my eyes, standing up from my makeup chair. “You know, you need to stop being so grumpy all the time. It’s not good for your health”

“Yeah well that’s what working for you gets me” She turns around, guiding me towards the living area of the suite.

I grab the train of my dress before following her steps, making sure not to step over the hem. As soon as I enter the space, I notice Chris standing in front of the mirror, his eyes fixated on his tie, completely oblivious of my presence. I walk pass him, towards the chair next to the window, sitting down gracefully just to make sure my dress remains intact.

“I’m here” Polly appears from the adjacent room, a lot of papers in her hand and her phone between her ear and her shoulder. “Gotta go, call you later”

I take a couple of seconds to look at Chris, his black suit and black shirt hugging his entire frame. I turn my eyes to Polly before Chris can look back. “What’s going on?”

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Polly asks as she places her phone down over the coffee table. “And why is this the fifth call I receive today about you two?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” I pout, reaching for a chocolate truffle but setting it down after thinking of the mess I might make of my dress.

“Well, enews is asking if you guys are getting a divorce, people magazine is asking me who cheated” Claire snarks back at me.

“Well, we know the answer to that one” I smile sarcastically.

“Seriously, Y/N? You’re still on that shit?” Chris rolls his eyes, running his hand through his hair.

“What? She asked and it’s not like I actually care” I tell him before turning back to Claire and Polly. “But for real, what’s up with the questions? We haven’t done anything”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, you two don’t look at each other or even talk to each other during events and people are starting to notice it” Polly says as she takes a seat across from me. “Guys, we know this wasn’t a love match but for fuck’s sake, you guys are actors, try to pretend at least”

Chris and I got married about 4 months ago after a lot of campaigning on Polly and Claire’s part. Every since Chris and I did a movie together two years ago, our fame skyrocketed and our teams thought that it would be a great idea if we dated. Or at least we pretended to. But in reality, we hated each other but apparently that’s what our movie needed since it was an enemys to lovers story. Fans went batshit crazy after a picture of Chris leaving my apartment at 3 am went viral. Truth was, he was there to apologize after a massive fallout we had during shooting. So we pretended to date and our relationship became like crack for the fans. It only took a couple of months before they were selling us the idea of marriage and only an idiot would deny the good press that our relationship brought to our careers, so we agreed.

“She basically chops my hand off as soon as I even try to step close to her” Chris waves his hand at me. “Take it up with her”

“Nice, put the blame on me” I chuckle. “Fucking prick”

“See, this has to stop if you guys don’t want to end up doing lifetime movies for the rest of your lives” Claire glares at us accusingly.

“If I’ll put me out of this misery” I exhale loudly but soon stop when Claire gives me a stern look. “Kidding”

“Guys, please” Polly sighs. “We know this situation is not ideal but I need you guys to cooperate”

“Fine” I shrug. “We’ll be more lovey doveys with each other”

“Chris?” Polly looks up at him with pleading eyes.

“It’s not like I have a choice” Chris turns to me. “No offense”

“I’d have to care in order for it to offend me” I snark back before turning to Claire. “Sorry, from now on I’ll be a good wifey”

“God help us all” Polly looks up at the ceiling as if God can give her any guidance.

***

The limo pulls up right at the edge of the red carpet, flashes and shouts already making me feel anxious. Chris opens up the door from his side and steps out, waving immediately at the people who have turned their attention to our car. He turns to give me a hand, his free hand reaching for the train of my dress.

“Thank you” I whisper as he bends down to spread the train nicely so it can be appreciated in its full glory.

“That’s what lovey dovey husbands do” Chris grins as he places a hand just above my butt cheek. “Try not to chop off my hand”

“Try not to tempt me” I say with a tight smile in my lips.

Chris guides me towards the red carpet, our names being shouted from every angle. With his left hand still on my back, he pulls to his side to pose for some pictures. He then turns to me, leaning in to whisper something in my ear. “Pretend I just said something funny”

“That’s hard since I don’t have a point of reference” I pretend to giggle as Chris hand pinches my skin. “Jerk”

“See, that’s why we make a lovely couple” He grins down at me, his lips pressed against my temple. “We are both assholes”

“Chris, Y/N” A pap calls our attention “look over here”

We keep posing for a couple of minutes, every once in a while looking at each other and giving a fake smile. After a while, Polly and Claire guide us to the inside of the theater where Chris’ movie is premiering. It’s about a war veteran who comes after being presumed dead. It was a heavy movie and it took a big toll on Chris but it all payed off because people where even mentioning his name along the word “oscar”.

Half way through the movie, after crying a bit over a really hard scene, an almost naked Chris came on the screen, and there was a bunch of gasps heard around the room. Chris looks good, no one could deny it, but this scene in particular really made it difficult for me to not gape at him. It was really intimate and sexy, and it focused on him going down on his estranged wife.

My hands went to the armrests, gripping a bit as Chris’ mouth hid between his costars legs. Every since we started the agreement, there was no one else. At least on my part. Mostly to avoid gossip. That meant that my sex life was basically non existent, unless anyone counted the vibrator in my bedside table.

A couple of eyes turned to my direction, hoping to see a reaction from me as I watch my husband be so intimate with another woman. I fidget a little in my seat, a warm feeling setting over my abdomen as I listen to Chris’ moans over the speakers. I need sex. Not with Chris, obviously. Just sex.

“Stop moving” Chris grunts, placing a hand over my shaking thigh. His palm is hot against my skin, making me gulp.

“Get your hand off me” I grit my teeth, trying hard not to push his hand away.

“You are moving like a worm and it’s distracting me” Chris looks down at me before taking his hand away.

“Sorry, the dress is too tight” I lie. I don’t want him to think that this is about him.

“Whatever, just stop squirming” He almost grins when I send him a death glare. “Childish”

“Idiot” I call him through my teeth.

“Both of you shut up before someone else listens” Polly pokes her head from Chris’ side, giving both of us a pointed look.

I huff before settling my back against my chair. Thankfully, the scene is over and my skin has stopped tingling. I manage to put my attention back into the movie, tears forming every once in a while. Soon after, the credits are rolling and everyone is on their feet, clapping at the whole crew.

I stand up and clap along before Claire softly pushes me to Chris’ side. Biting the inside of my lip, I wrap my arm around his waistline and look up, faking a smile. “Pretend that I just said something sweet” I whisper only form him to hear.

“That’s hard since I don’t have a point of reference” Chris grins, throwing my words back at me. “But I’ll try”

***

“God she is so pretty” I cry as I stare up at Taylor Swift as she walks around the room. Every since it was announce that she was going to be in the movie soundtrack, I nearly fainted.

“Stop being a creep” Chris gives me a weird look before going back to his whiskey.

After the movie was over, we traveled to the after party to loosen up a bit more and enjoy the cool LA night. I switched my dress before arriving, opting for a short black dress.

“Can you leave me alone? Please?” I try to not to make a face in case anyone is watching.

“Trust me, there’s nothing that I want more than to be away from you” Chris says, still holding his glass to his lips.

“You’d rather be with her?” I ask, reaching for my vodka soda.

“Seriously? Are we going there?” I can see the anger in his hands as it grips the glass. “Nothing happened”

About a month after the wedding, I started receiving texts and screenshots from one of Chris’ costars on a film. They were from a conversation between her and Chris and about how they couldn’t wait to be alone and fuck each other’s brains off. I obviously never cared about it out of jealousy but out of anger because he was making me look like an idiot. Claire and Polly had to intervene, so, after she got a deal on a movie thanks to them, the messages stopped coming.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes before going back to looking around the room. “At least she was pretty, I would actually murder you if you cheated on me with an ugly person”

“I didn’t cheat” He exhales harshly, really annoyed with me.

“Glad to see you are not biting each other’s heads off” Claire joins us at the VIP table, a glass of white wine in her hand.

“Come back in 5 minutes and we’ll see” I give her a sarcastic smile. “It’s really tempting”

“Maybe you should fuck the anger away” Polly smirks as she sits next to Claire.

I immediately tense up, remembering that scene from the movie. “I’d rather shave my entire hair and eat it before doing that”

Chris laughs, clearly amused by my comment. “And they say romance is dead”

“When it comes to this relationship, they are right” I flop back down on the couch. “Anyways, enough about our wonderful marriage. I want to dance or do something fun for once”

“Let’s go” Chris stands up, stretching his hand to me. I stare at his hand for a couple of seconds. “Before I change my mind”

“You want to dance with me?” I blink up at him.

“That’s what couples do, Y/N” Chris rolls his eyes before reaching for my hand and forcing my to stand up.

“So romantic” Polly teases, earning a giggle from Claire.

“Oh shut up” I glare at them before following Chris to where there are some people dancing.

Taylor has been singing for a while now, the tunes of Dress starting to slither through the speakers. Chris pulls me against his chest, his hand landing on the curve between my ass and my back. People start to turn their attention to us.

“People are staring” I whisper against his jacket.

“Ignore them” Chris whispers against my ears. “Just remember you have to look like a madly in love wife”

“Yeah, because that’s easy” I chuckle. “I’ve never been married before and I’ve never been madly in love either”

“Never?” He asks me, his breath fanning my skin as we sway with the music. “A high school boyfriend?”

“I mean I’ve had boyfriends” I explain. “Just never that serious. You?”

“Not really, I mean, I enjoyed my past relationships but never enough to wish to marry them” Chris spins me around just as Taylor starts singing the chorus.

“And yet you married someone you actually hate” I laugh, seeing the irony.

“Yeah, well, at least you are hot” He pinches my back softly.

“Christopher Robert Evans, is that a compliment?” I fake gasp. He has called me this before. And so have I. Just because we are not particularly fond of each other doesn’t mean we are blind.

“Don’t let it get to your head” Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to get along here”

“I mean we are making progress” I look around the room, scanning the crowd. “This is the longest we have gone without giving each other an insult”

“Don’t tempt me” He chuckles. “No but I’m serious… We should try to at least get along”

“Yeah, I guess” I bit the inside of my cheeks. We stay pressed against each other, surrounded just by Taylor’s sweet voice and some chatter.

“I never cheated” Chris breaks our silence, his muscle tensing under my hands. “I know that I don’t owe you an explanation and I know you probably are not going to believe me. But I didn’t. I promised to respect you, and I plan on sticking to that promise, fake husband or not”

I fix my eyes on the button of his shirt, not daring to look him at his eyes. “I know… I guess I just chose to believe it to have a reason to hate you. I’m sorry”

“Okay, let’s just put that behind us” Chris relaxes, his back slouching a bit. “We can be friends, Y/N. God knows how long we are going to need to keep this going, might as well get along”

“Pains me to say this, but you are right” I finally look up at him, his blue orbs staring down at me. “Hi, I’m Y/N. And you are?”

Chris throws his head back, laughing. “You have my last name, Y/N. We can start over without weird introductions”

“Indulge me, Evans” I poke his chest. “I don’t know that much about you”

“What do you want to know?” He raises his eyebrow. “Ask away”

“What’s your favorite color?” I blush, realizing how stupid my question is. “Sorry, I’ll try again”

“Green” He ignores my second statement. “Yours?”

“Blue, but like light blue, kinda like your e-“ I cut myself, my cheeks flaring.

“Here I was asking to be friends and you are just laying it out on me” Chris grins hard. “You waste no time, Ms. Evans”

“Idiot” I slap his arm playfully. “I meant I like the shade, that’s all”

“Sure sure” He nods, a smug look on his face. “My turn… Favorite animal?”

“Mmm tough one… I really like raccoons and-“ I stop myself when Chris’ laugh erupts from his chest. “What?”

“Who the fuck likes Raccoons?” His eyes are still tingling with amusement.

“They are cute and funny” I defend myself. “They are like just so hilarious”

“Fuck that’s good” He shakes his head. “You are weird”

“Many people like raccoons” I fight him. “You need to learn to appreciate their beauty”

“Yeah, no thanks” Chris stops moving and grabs my hand. “Why don’t we go back to the table? Seems stupid to try to have a conversation while dancing”

“Okie dokie” I follow his lead back to our VIP table.

Polly and Claire are deep into a conversation, probably some gossip or something like that. PR people always know everything about everyone. We sit down across from there, getting back their attention.

“Oh look, you guys made it without a scratch” Polly nods proudly. “Who would’ve thought?”

I roll my eyes before turning my eyes back to Chris, falling back into our conversation.

***

“Hi, bub” I lean down, my heels in on hand and the other one petting Dodger behind his ears. “Where you a good boy to uncle Scott?”

Scott was our designated dog-sitter most of the nights. Neither of them minded, Dodger loved him so much, he actually listened to him.

“He’s always a good boy” Chris bents down to plant a kiss over the dog’s head before walking away from the entry way.

I make my way to my room, Dodger following right behind me. I hear Chris yell “traitor” before I disappear into my closet.

A couple of minutes later, I’m tucked in my bed, Dodger at the edge, his head over my feet. Chris’ footsteps catch hims attention, his head snapping up. “You traitor”

“Let him be” I pull the dog closer to me. “He always sleeps with you”

Chris and I have separate rooms and I only sleep on the masters bedroom whenever we have other people around. People that don’t know about the whole fake marriage thing. Mostly the maid and the cook and both of our families. Even Scott believed we were happily married.

“Yeah, cuz he is mine” Chris sasses. “C’mon boy”

But Dodger stays put. “Just give up already”

“Fine, just this once” Chris drops the subject before snapping his head up. “Uh, I forgot. Do you have any spare razor? I forgot to ask Mayra to restock my shelf”

“Yeah sure” I move slowly so that dodger won’t sprint out of my bed. I push the covers away and step out of the bed.

Quickly, I reach the bathroom and pull a pink razor from the cabinet under my sink. “You’ll have to settle for this pink one” I stretch my hand before looking up, Chris’ eyes not exactly meeting mine.

Fuck. I forgot that I chose the pink nightgown. The one the gave me too much cleavage and barely reached under my butt cheeks. Nervously, I reach for my rob that’s draping over my night stand, snapping Chris’ attention away from my bare legs.

“Uh, yeah no, thanks” Chris mutters, snatching the razor from my hand and walking away from my room a bit to fast.

I shake my head a bit before moving back to my bed, Dodger still sprawled on the edge of the bed. “Let’s sleep this off, buddy”

About 10 minutes have passed since I turned off the lamp over my nightstand, when a weird sound startles me awake. I squint my eyes, as if that’s going to help me decipher the source of the noise. A couple of seconds later, right when I’m about to drop it, I hear it again. A moan. A moan from Chris. His bathroom shares a wall with my room, sounds slipping into my area really easy. I can hear his muffled moans a bit clearer, connecting my ear to the wall.

“This fucker” I feel anger bubbling inside of me. He brought someone home. After saying he wouldn’t cheat on my. Well not technically on me, on the promise of respecting me.

I push away the covers from my frame, earning a glare from Dodger before he moves to settle over the free side of the bed.

I walk fast towards his room, ready to rip him a new one. I push pass his door and head straight to the bathroom. I keep waiting for a pair of heels or some panties dropped somewhere on his room but my eyes remain cleaned from that sight. I’m about to burst into the bathroom when the imagine forming on front of me stops me cold on my feet.

Chris’ has his back against the wall, the shower head splashing his face, water dripping down his torso. His hand is pumping his swollen dick, curses coming out of his mouth along with the movement.

It’s like I am being hypnotized. I want to move my eyes away, but the scene in front of me so fiery, my eyes remain glued to his member. I feel a warm spreading in between my legs as Chris pumps harder. He lets out a hard loud moan as white loads burst from the tip of his dick. He huffs, rolling his head back, letting the water wash away all the produce of his effort.

I snap out of it, walking backwards fast before sprinting back to my room. I close my door slowly, making sure not to make a sound before hiding under my bed spread. I close my eyes hard trying to remove the picture from my head but the heat in between my legs not allowing me to.

I give up after 5 minutes, poking my hand out from under the bed covers. Without even looking, I dig my hand into my nightstand, searching for my pink vibrator. This will have to do for the night.

I have a plan for tomorrow.

***

“Let me get it off, bub” I bent down to release Dodger from his leash, the pup ready to sprint to the backyard.

Dodger and I love to go on hikes together, just the two of us and the sun rising over the horizon.

I hear from clattering from the kitchen so I step into the area, spotting Chris over the stools that surround the kitchen island. “Hey there”

“Morning” Chris looks up at me, as he sets his coffee down. “How was the hike?”

“Pretty good” I reach for the top cabinet, looking for a glass. Chris probably put the dishes away because the glasses are to far back, forcing me on my tip toes.

I can feel Chris’ eyes burning a hole over my ass as the my tennis skirt rises enough to expose the underside of my cheeks. I turn around and Chris snaps his gaze back to his omelet, his cheeks turning red.

I fill my glass with water and gulp it down, not taking my eyes from him. I settle the glass down before moving to stand in front of him, the kitchen island separating us.

“Let’s have sex” I say hard, so hard that Chris starts coughing as a piece of egg gets caught up in his throat.

“I’m sorry, what?” He looks up at me, his breath a bit hard from the chocking and maybe from my statement.

“Let’s have sex” I repeat myself. “You said you were not going to cheat and neither will I. But we both have needs and I think it’s a good idea”

“What are you even-?” Chris starts but I roll my eyes.

“I heard you last night” I confess. His face turns a deep shade of red, the vein on the side of his neck pulsing. “Look, I won’t judge you, I did it, too.

“You- what?” Chris’ breath hitches, his knuckles turning white as he closes his hands.

“C’mon we are not five” I step around the kitchen island, closer to him but still leaving some space between us. “We can get each other off, and we are married so it’s not like we are doing harm to anyone

“I don’t- I’m” Chris stammers a bit. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea”

I stare at him for a couple of seconds before finally speaking up again. “Fine, I’m not going to beg. I still have my vibrator. It’ll probably do a better job, anyways”

I turn around to leave but Chris’ hand flys up to my neck, gripping the back to turn me back around.

“What did you just said?” He brings his face close to mine. His grip tightening a bit. “Repite it”

“I can do a better job with my vibrator than you” I breath out, focusing my eyes on him.

Chris grunts before crashing his lips down to mine angrily. A moan scapes my mouth as he bits into my lower lip, making way for his tongue to punish me. His free hand travels down to my leg, pulling me up to place me on the kitchen counter.

I push my hands into his hair as his tongue swipes my bottom lip clean before moving down to my jaw and the to my neck before settling on the spot right under my earlobe. He sucks hard as his hands start pulling at my sports bra. My sweaty chest makes it a bit hard so I pull away to help him. As soon as the textile is not longer covering my boobs, Chris dives right in for one of my nipples, forcing me to arch my back. While his tongue polishes my hard nipple, his right hand moves to the other unattended bud of flesh. First his palm rolls against the harden button, his calloused skin sending tingles straight to my core.

“Fuck” I moan as I his salive drips down a long my nipple. I can’t keep my eyes away from the scene, my burning gaze forcing Chris to look up at me as he pulls my nipple with his teeth. “Oh god”

“Lay down” Chris pushes me down with his hand until my back connects with the cold granite of the counter.

I bring my hands to his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his shirts, signaling him to take it off. “Get rid of this, Christopher”

“On it” He groans against my skin, stepping away just enough to pull the shirt over his head. His hard pecks and abdomen glistening in front of me, the pants forcing his muscles to look more prominent. “Satisfied?”

“No” I pull him down against my lips, my tongue making a mess of his bottom lip. “Take me like a man, Evans” I mutter against his lips.

“As you wish” Chris groans before moving his mouth down along my skin until it reaches the edge of my skirt. I wait for him to take it off but instead he just pushes it up and tucks down my underwear along with my leggings. He steps back a bit to pull his pants down, his boxers following the same fate.

“You know how many times my eyes were glued to your ass as you skipped around with this fucking skirt?” Chris growls as his spreads my thighs as my pussy radiates heat right in front of him. “How many times I picture your ass red after a good slapping, only this thine material covering the swell of your ass?”

I moan loudly as his hands grab my thighs, my ass hanging slightly over the edge of the counter. “I want you to be loud, Y/N” Chris pinches my butt cheek before lining himself up to me. “Moan my name”

“Yes, Chris” I throw my head back as he rubs my entrance with his tip “Rip me open”

Chris pushes just enough for his head to enter my pussy, my folds hiding his pink tip. “Yeah stretch me open” I throw my head back as he sways back and forth, entering me slowly.

“I can’t hold it anymore” Chris grips my thighs. “Brace yourself”

I grab the edge of the kitchen counter, my knuckles turning white as he pushes hard into me. There’s a sting that makes tears form on my eyes. I’ve never had someone this big inside of me, my pussy throbbing at the new feeling.

“Look at you” Chris presses his thumb against my clit. “Taking me so good” He throws his head back as his entire cock disappears into me. His thrusts are hard and slow, building up the tension in my lower belly.

“C’mere” Chris stops, pulling out so I cry at the loss of him. “Let me turn you around”

Chris puts me on my feet before turning me around so my ass is pressed against his hard cock. “Bend over, Y/N”

I do as I’m told, pressing my chest against the cold tiles. Chris grabs both of my hands and holds them behind my back, using the as support to hold himself as he re enters me. “That’s right. So tight”

I’m lost in my own moans when I feel Chris spit on his hand, before pressing his thumb against my asshole. “Chris” I tense up immediately.

“I’m not going to fuck you there, Y/N” He massages around my hole. “I just like to see the way you clench up” he caresses my butt cheek, trying to get me to loosen up again. “Do you want me to stop?”

He waits for my answer as I take in the sensation, his thumb placing a soft pressure over my hole. It’s not bad. “No, it’s okay”

“Good” Chris grunts as he picks up his pace, plunging hard against me. This new position really allows him to go in deep, reaching a new part of me that has me whimpering.

“Chris” I whine when he angles himself so that I can feel him fill me up to the point where me knees are shaking under me. “I won’t last”

“Yes, cum around my cock” He reaches down to grab my pony tail in a fist, making me arch my back. His movements become erratic as he speeds up, encouraging the orgasm out of me.

“Yes yes yes” I cry as I feel the tightness around my pussy before the release finally arrives. The cries that come out of ny mouth are filthy, so filthy that Chris drops down and plugs in his thumb into my mouth. I bit at his skin, the waves of pleasure still rocking my core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Chris groans as he pulls out, his entire load landing on my back. “Fuck yes”

I’m still shaking, waiting for him to catch his breath so that he can help me stand up. “Chris, fuck that was…”

I’m so out of breath I don’t even finish my sentence, Chris doing it for me. “So hot”

I feel him pull away from me, a cool breeze replacing the warmth of his body. “Don’t move” I hear him move around the kitchen, looking for a clean towel before running it down the the warm water that pours out of the faucet.

Chris walks back to me, cleaning his entire release from my back. “I think you need to wash your hair” I can hear the grin on his smug face.

“Seriously?” I groan, standing up. “Aim better next time, Evans”

“You want a next time?” He throws the dirty towel at the floor where my sweaty clothes are.

“I’m game if you are” I shrug, tugging the elastic out of my hair.

“Then let’s play, Y/N” Chris grins hard as his dick starts twitching.

****************************************************

New series coming your waaaay🩵 hope you guys like this

#chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x famous!reader #chris evans x reader

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starlost-andfound · 12 days

Text

claire de lune | bang chan

bang chan x friend gn!reader

summary: on a particularly rough night, y/n and chan find comfort in each other's company under the moonlight

word count: 1.1k

warning: discussions of grief, losing loved ones, mentions of death, angst and a bit of bittersweet but comforting (?) fluff

authors note: i don't actually think anyone will read this but i'm missing some ppl a little more than usual tonight. i thought i'd write this as a comfort for myself and for others who feel the same too

additional note: also, after years of using tumblr, i just figured out how to do this three pictures in a row thing and i am absolutely ecstatic about it

_ _ _

The knock on his studio door snapped Chan out of his trance.

He blinked his eyes a few times, his vision slowly coming back to focus, staring at the black computer screen in front of him. How long had he been zoned out? His head drifting to other places, clinging to lingering thoughts?

He glanced at the clock. 1:45 AM. Had it really been that long?

The knock sounded and Chan cleared his throat, “Come in.”

The door opened slightly and y/n peaked through the small gap.

“Oh, hey you,” Chan smiled tiredly. “It’s been a while.”

Y/n smiled. “Mind if I step in?”

“You know you’re always welcome,” Chan gestured to the couch behind him. The bags under y/n’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed by him. He couldn’t deny that he held his own too. Chan had been in the studio for so long he could barely remember what time he had entered and how much time had passed.

Y/n closed the door behind them, leaning against it.

“Why are you up so late?” Chan asked.

“I could ask you the same.”

Chan chuckled. He glanced at the time again and sighed. He looked back at y/n, “Wanna go out on a walk?”

“Yeah, I could use some fresh air.”

_ _ _

Chan and y/n didn’t really have a destination in mind. They walked quietly side by side, matching each other’s pace. Occasionally, a soft sigh would break the silence or one of the two would point out the nice weather or a stray cat on the opposite side of the street. Both carried some kind of weight, a wearing shadow looming behind them.

Eventually the two found a park and made their way to a bench. Y/n let out a sigh as they sat. Chan followed, sitting a slight distance away from them. Neither made the first move to speak, both of their hearts aching to let go of the heavy anchor in their chest, but neither were courageous enough to say the words they needed to.

Chan looked up and sighed.

“Oh,” he whispered. “It’s a half moon tonight.”

Y/n followed his gaze up to the sky. They hummed in agreement. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“You never did tell me why you were up,” Chan added.

A small pause. “Too much on my mind,” y/n mumbled.

“What were you thinking about?”

“It’s not so much of what I was thinking about,” y/n replied. “- but more of who i was thinking about,” they whispered.

Y/n inhaled deeply and cleared their throat. “Why were you up?”

Chan chuckled, but his laughter held some heaviness. “I guess the same as you.”

After a longer silence, Chan spoke again. “Were they a friend, family... or a lover?”

“Family,” y/n spoke quietly, afraid if they spoke any louder their feelings would burst. “You?”

“Friend,” Chan sighed..

He laughed lightly. “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”

“Nope,” y/n chuckled, fiddling with the hem of their t-shirt. “I feel like every time it hits me I drown again.”

“They say it comes in waves.”

“Yeah,” y/n bit their lip as their eyes started to water, a lump building in their throat.

“Sometimes it’s unforgiving like a high tide and it completely floods and it drowns you,” Chan continued with a deep breath. “But sometimes it’s gentle and kind like the low tide on a shore on a quiet morning.”

A tear slipped passed y/n’s eye and they quickly brushed it away.

“I hate it, I really do.” their lip trembled. They inhaled shakily. “I just wish it would go away.”

“I know,” Chan said. “Me too.”

He couldn’t tell when the first tear had fallen, quickly wiping away the tears smudged on his cheeks.

“I just don’t know how to deal with all of this pain that I have left, all of this love I have left for them. I don’t know where to put it. I don’t know how anyone lives with it. How the world just keeps spinning but I’m still stuck here.”

“I guess we just have to learn to live with it,” Chan whispered. “Slowly, step by step. We put the love we have left for them into the way we live.”

He paused, and breathed shakily. “Maybe by smiling a little more for them, or doing that crazy thing we’re scared of, just living more for them - because they would’ve wanted that for us.” His voice wavered, “They would’ve wanted us to be happy.”

Y/n sniffled. “You have a really good way with words.”

“Funny.” Chan laughed through his tears. “People say that a lot.”

“Sometimes, I feel really lost without them. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing with myself, with my life.” y/n spoke. “They used to be a call away and now, I don’t know what to do when I need them the most.”

“It’s hard, learning to live and grow.” Chan said. “As you get older, you grow apart or you have to learn how to keep growing on your own.”

He sniffled. “But they’re always looking out for us, even when they’re gone. You just need to look for the signs.”

“Do you think they can see us from up there?”, y/n asked, looking back up at the sky.

“I think they do. They always watch over us, in the stars.” Chan pointed up in the far distance, to a small cluster of stars surrounding the moon.

The two sat in silence again, both looking up at the stars, the moonlight washing over them with a soft glow, wrapping them in a gentle embrace.

“For what it’s worth, I think they would be really proud of who you are today.” Chan looked at y/n.

Y/n’s eyes welled with tears again. “You really think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you,” y/n said quietly. They glanced at Chan. “For what it’s worth, I know that they’re really proud of you too Chan.”

Chan remained silent for a moment, composing himself before he replied. “Thank you, y/n.”

They sat together quietly for a few more minutes, each allowing the other to feel their own heaviness in their chest, in their own time.

After some time passed, the only sound heard was the distant chirp of crickets and their quiet breathing.

“Do you want to head back?”, y/n asked.

Chan looked back up at the moon and exhaled shakily. “I think I’d like to stay here for a bit longer, look at the stars a little more.”

“I think I’ll stay a little bit longer too.”

Up above them, in the light of the moon in the dark sky, a pair of stars shined a little brighter.

#bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bangchan fluff #bangchan angst

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ovaryacted · 1 month

Note

It’s easier for my to picture Leon being a sub than Chris. But ohhh boy. The idea of having such a beefy soldier boy underneath me, trying to hold back his moans paints a very pretty picture. Don’t you agree?

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

Omg yessss anon, absolutely! In my mind, Leon is easier to perceive as a sub just because he's pathetic and it seems more natural to his character. But with Chris, I think it would definitely be a process involving having to break down his walls and get him in the mentality to be submissive. Let me get into some character analysis to explain this a bit better.

In my mind, Chris is a man of action, of discipline, and routine. He has put himself into this leadership role for most of his life since he took care of Claire and went to the military. He's often depicted as a leader, someone who knows how to handle business with or without a team, and he just carries himself in a certain that matches well with his physique and appearance. However, he is not an aggressive guy, quite the opposite. I see him as a loving sweetheart and softie through and through, and I love that about him in particular.

That being said, this mentality he has of being a leader and someone who needs a semblance of control definitely translates in the bedroom. He has a preconceived idea of how the roles should be, that he should be the top, the one to initiate, the one to control what goes on (with enthusiastic consent of course). It's not necessarily that he can't be submissive, but that it feels taboo for him to be on the receiving end when he's so used to doing everything else. He's the provider in his relationship, he likes to tend to his partner's needs and make sure that they're all taken care of.

In a way, those same habits from taking care of Claire when they were younger and eventually taking care of Rose after Ethan dies (I headcanon him doing that idc), reflect how willing he is to make sure those he cares about don't have to worry about a thing. Likewise, he believes he has to provide pleasure, and that he needs to be commanding in the bedroom because that's what is often shown in mainstream porn or what he thinks people enjoy the most.

To break him out of that habit, he would need a partner who can show him how things can be different, and that it's okay to experiment and do things that are not considered the "norm" at least in his head.

Now his view is of you over him, your hips moving over his own and keeping him pinned with his back against the mattress. His eyes remain hazed over, having a hard time focusing on looking at your body or focusing on the way you felt. Wrapped tightly around him, clenching every time you harshly pulled your body back down onto him.

Chris was a bit nervous when you said you wanted to take control, not because he was against it but because he's not used to being in the position of taking what is given to him. But when you were so adamant about wanting to take care of him, he couldn't deny you. He certainly didn't regret it one bit.

His mind goes blank, groans slipping out of him with ease as his rough hands hold your hips and guide you over him. He couldn't help himself from thrusting up into you every time you came back down, matching your pace with his own movements. He's lost in you, practically drowning in your body and he can't stop the whimper that comes out of him.

It was a new sound, something exciting that only made you move harder against him. Your hands went towards his shoulders, nails digging into his thick skin with every moan Chris tried to hide. He bit his lip, cheeks flush as he realized just how noisy he was getting. You bent forward, kissing him on the mouth and shivering when he whined against your tongue.

"Don't hide from me, baby. I want to hear you, got it?", you purred against him, and he offered you a hazy smile, squeezing your hips just a bit harder and craving more.

#ovaryacted asks #chris redfield smut #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield #resident evil #ovaryacted thoughts #I have gone insane

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kagooleo · 3 months

Text

so with confidence I present my rarepair...fluffyriceshipping!

they were originally a joke ship (which was my last chance to get out) but they grew on me more and more throughout last year, and months later they've become my favorite pair to draw! their name was the funniest thing to make of them because i got to joke around with their jpn names

the tl:dr of them is that there's a lot of good drama to make of thirty-somethings with the weight of responsibility of their respective cultures on their shoulders, as well as their personal thoughts of the trainers of their respective regions, all this culminating together to be really compelling for me to develop, so I'll ramble a Whole lot more under the cut about them :D!!

ok now that the people that wanted to see more about what i'm crazy about when i'm not online are here you guys better prepare for the worddump lmao

before they meet its postgame and they’re both in their thirties (early to mid), lance post gsc/hgss still upholds his champion position and managing the dragon's den alongside any g-man/undercover rocket work on the side (in workaholic mode), riley post dppt is occasionally battling at the battleground but also holing himself up with patrols on iron island and doing egg research and training his aura (Also in workaholic mode)

i'd say all the work makes byron and roark try to get him a break from all that, convincing him at some point to take a vacation! see the sights my guy you've been workin yourself to the bone

it's canonically shown in hgss that riley does appear as a partner for the battle tower, so at some point he is in johto! the region resonates with his cultural sensibilities so maybe he revisits it again to instead actually relax there.

lance would probably catch his hat flying away when he's visiting elm's lab (a fellow egg researcher) in new bark and riley would have absolutely fell first for him (and i'm a sucker for meet-cutes,,,)

and from there they hit it off! being both skilled trainers in their own right they battle and go out to eat after and talk about their family (clair and the elders, for riley's case his family friends byron and roark), their culture (dragon clans and aura guardians), and then when they talk about their respective trainer kiddos (silver and dawn) something clicks between them (it’s a Really rough snippet but hopefully it’s decent)-

"Do you have any kids? I know the news loves to make up some kind of story about secret love affairs with a random person." the guardian says, awkwardly.

Lance smiles, "Oh, yeah! I have one but he's technically not mine." Riley chokes on his iced tea.

"I'm sorry?" A million thoughts roll through his mind as he processes his words said so matter-of-factly.

"Haha, sorry, sorry, I'm only partly joking."

"E-Elaborate..."

The champion explains the general gist of things as he's met him, Silver, his kid-by-odd-circumstance, was homeless for a while, but was training alongside some other up and coming trainers. Uncovering some Rocket related files, he learns he's the son of the boss of the entire organization, and after some on and off meetings he eventually got him a place to stay at the Dragon's Den, and soon after began living with him at his place when he warmed up to the idea of adoption.

There are times he gets overwhelmed with all that he's been through, and some nights its all too much. But Lance was there with him, stayed with him every step of the way, unlike the one who gave him that abandonment anxiety in the first place.

"He's my kid, not by blood, and maybe not by his family, either. But instead, by his own decision he chose to stay with me. I'd want him to keep the freedom he has now." Lance states, firmly. "And now he's grown up as strong as I believed he could. I'm proud of him, as much as he tends to deny that." Riley senses his draconic aura swell with pride, mixed with a humbling sincerity in his words.

"What about you? Any kids of your own?" the sudden flip of the question surprises the guardian briefly.

"N-Nothing adoptive but…I suppose it's similar, in a way to meeting them as you have."

The guardian's turn, now. Dawn was someone he met when he was training on Iron Island, and also served as a guide to get her through the caverns. When he felt something off in the aura surrounding the area, he eventually learned of Galactic causing the pokemon on the island to feel restless and agitated. With her, they were able to clear the island of their antics and even gifted her a Riolu egg on her journey. From there, he was impressed with how strong she was, and did hear from Cynthia that she raised his present up to evolving her into a Lucario. He couldn't have been happier.

That was the case, until he caught the aftermath of the events of Mt. Coronet.

What Cyrus did, the lengths he'd go to, and dragging the both of them into a mess that could have torn the world apart.

After that, Dawn stayed home for a while. Cynthia put him as a contact for her mom, who was really worried for her. With his aura and her friends, Lucas and Barry, they were a big help for her recovery. And eventually, after a lot of time and work, she became the region's champion. She messages every now and then to him, as processing any trauma is never an easy road, but he realized how lucky she was to have the people she'd met to keep her steady, and knew she'll be alright.

"I...still wish I could've done more for her," Riley says, quieter. "Cynthia told me about what happened in that other world, and it...it was a lot for Dawn, a lot of emotions to help her figure out." he finishes, sheepish.

"…I don't blame you for feeling that way, I wouldn't know what to do in a scenario like that, either." the champion says, unsure too.

"It's amazing, in a way. All these kids going through so much on their own. I'd be proud were it not so scary, realizing how young they are to go through what they have been through."

"There's only so much you really can do, as an adult. I've realized that fact a long time ago." Lance's aura felt oddly melancholic, as bright and pretty as it may appear. "It's either immediate or slow when things change for them, and sometimes you'll have to make a choice on the spot when the time comes for them to decide what they want to do." It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, but the melancholy makes it appear that he's had some regrets.

“I trust in them to find their own path, eventually. When they’re together, those kids are gonna be alright on their own.”

His reassurance helped, even if only by a small amount.

I should make some kind of master post about them at some point but WAH god I’m so happy I can actually put them together in pokemon masters, they’ve really grown on me and I’ve developed a lot for the both of them in my free time, but yeah this is the rarepair that’s been on my brain for ages now, a gaze into my goo brain 🤪

#kagarts #pokemon gsc #pokemon hgss #pokemon dppt #trainer riley #stat trainer riley #champion lance #lance pokemon #fluffyriceshipping #🌊🍚🐉#yeah I’m establishing the tag for em in emojis. free reign bitches!!!!!#long post #writing a fic is hard but i could write millions of words about these two. the character analysis is compelling #catch me being annoying about them in the coming months #being able to talk about them is so nice bc I was pretty scared before because of some people I used to know #but now I get to be free and awesome without worry and it’s been great! I’ve got a friend who’s encouraged me to talk about them here #and so I shall! to my friend I want to kiss you on your forehead for hearing me out about these two #new year new yaoi new me >:]

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kaita0 · 6 months

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Challenge Accepted (1)

Summary: Older Neighbor Leon x Younger Reader, You were challenged to hook up with your older neighbor. Can you do it?

Warnings: Age Gap, Jealousy

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Giggles erupted throughout your room as your friends were hanging out in your house for the day. You guys did the usual thing which was playing games and spilling the tea from school. That’s when one of your friend, Claire, claps her hands together to get everyone’s attention.

“Have you guys seen the new neighbor?” You roll your eyes at her words.

“Of course I’ve seen him. He is right next to me.” The others nod in agreement. “Don’t you guys think he’s hot though?” No one denied the sexyiness of your neighbor.

“How about we have do a challenge?” Jill questions. Everyone perks up at her words. Curious to her words of a challenge. “The challenge would be to try to get fucked by him first.” Jill states a bit too seriously, resulting in the others to laugh at her. “Come on, Jill, we are literally 18 and some of us are already about to be 19. The neighbor literally looks like he is in his late 20s or early 30s. Why would he pay attention to us?” Sherry explains.

You let out a hum in thought. You had first hand seen the neighbor and totally thought he was hot. “I accept the challenge.” You state confidently. The others were not prepared for your forwardness and the determination in your eyes. “Well, good luck girl. You can’t really mess it up since you live right next to him.” Claire laughs.

As soon as it was the next day, you baked a few cookies to bring to your neighbor. You knew you couldn’t come off to strong so you decided to take things slow. You wore a frilly lilac dress shirt with a jean skirt and a sweater over it. The walk to the door was a bit slow and the anxiety had ran through your veins.

Once you appeared at the door, you gently knocked. Trying to remember what you were going to tell him once you opened the door. Before you could think long, the door swings open and right there is your neighbor who is shirtless and in sweats, which are loosely hanging from his hips. His very defined hips. You quickly look up at him and begin to introduce yourself by giving him your name.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I am your neighbor next door and I just brought some cookies to welcome you to the neighborhood. Do you mind telling me your name?”

The man before you quirks an eyebrow as his eyes scan over you before landing on the plate of cookies in your hands.

“Leon, Leon Kennedy. Thank you for the cookies, that’s nice of you.”

‘Score’ rings through your mind as you give him a charming smile.

“Just remember if you ever need anything, I am right across. I will see you later, Mr. Kennedy. Have a nice day.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #kaita #resident evil x reader

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365filmsbyauroranocte · 1 year

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Stars at Noon (Claire Denis, 2022)

#Stars at Noon #Claire Denis #quote #death #smile #bed #hug #hugs #love #2022 #Margaret Qualley #Joe Alwyn

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echobx · 13 days

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not my type 3 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n is trying to reconcile with her feelings towards Rafe

warnings: angsty, swearing, Rafe being a bit of an ass

word count: 3.1k

author's note: I don't really know what happened. I'm sorry /gen

part 1 part 2

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“What's he doing here?” you hiss at your best friend when you watch Rafe walk in, a blonde girl on his arm as he is greeted by your father. “Your dad invited all the partners, you signed up on that, remember,” Claire reminds you and you groan. If you had remembered that he'd be there, you would've worn something else. Something more revealing. “He doesn't look like-” Claire mumbles as you turn and drag her with you towards the bar. “I know he doesn't. And he's not my type. And I hate him,” you list, and she lifts her eyebrows at you. “But?” “I haven’t- I tried everything okay, literally everything. But I can't cum,” you whisper. “The only time I manage to even get close to it, is on my own picturing him. And I hate it. I don't like it at all. It's disgusting and shouldn't be happening. Especially not to me.” “I think we should get drunk. Hammered, actually. Like in college,” she smiles and orders two shots of tequila for each of you. You down the shots and turn back around to watch the mass of people in front of you. Everyone is mingling but no matter how much you try to not pay any attention to him, your eyes seem to be stuck. He looks good. Too good. The loose suit shirt half unbuttoned, giving view to his abs just enough to make you wanna rip the fabric off.

It had been three whole months. Three months since he had left you wanting more. Three months since you had made him sleep on your couch, denying him the pleasure to sleep in your bed after what he had pulled at the restaurant and when you had woken up he had been gone. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. It was a clean cut. The same thing you did the first time round. Just that he managed to make you cave, and you can't let it happen again. You have too much self-respect to let him get to you, again. Too much resentment towards him. Too much of all of it for him to ruin you. And besides, you can always hold onto the fact that he really isn't your type, he'd never be.

“Abort. Abort! Move, y/n/n! They are on their way over,” Clair pushes against you, but it feels like you're stuck. “And they're here.” “Mr. Cameron, you remember my daughter,” your dad smiles politely, and you do your best to mirror it, but refusing to actually look at Rafe. To meet his gaze and get lost in it. Too scared that it'll remind you of that day. You hold out your hand to shake his, but instead of giving it a proper shake, Rafe takes your hand softly into his own. He leans down and kisses your knuckles, staring right into your eyes, and you can swear your heart is about to stop. And there you are again, mentally trapped under the weight of his hot body, his eyes never leaving yours as he pounds into, nearly splitting you in half. You could swear he thinks of it too when your eyes linger before you harshly pull your hand away. “I remember him well. Please, do enjoy the party,” you say and quickly excuse yourself to the restroom.

You lock yourself in a stall, sitting down on the toilet and trying to keep yourself from crying. “Are you okay?” Claire asks and you let out a choked cry. “No. I don't think so, no.” You shake your head. It's unfair that you feel like this while he's perfect and not at all having any issues with it. “If you cry, bend over, so the tears fall on the floor and don't ruin your makeup,” she suggests, and you stand to follow her instructions, just in case. “Please tell me she's an escort. I can't deal with this if she isn't,” you press out. You don't know what exactly is wrong with you, never having been in a situation like this before. “I don't think so. But I can do some research on it and get back to you,” you hear her stilettos on the marble as she walks away. “He's no one. You don't care. You hate him. He's an asshole. A complete asshole,” you tell yourself, and it seems to help at first, but when you close your eyes he's there again. Brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face and telling you that you're his. And it all starts anew.

“Y/n? Are you still in there?” you hear Claire ask and reply with a quick “yes.” “So, not an escort, but they just met at a bar. I guess he just brought her along to mess with you.” “I think I'm having a heart attack,” your breath hitches, and you hold yourself up with a hand pressed to the stall door, still standing bent over like she had suggested earlier. “Okay, tell me your symptoms, and I'll look it up. I'm not gonna call an ambulance if it's not real,” she replies, and you hate that you love her for being so pragmatic. “I can't breathe, and my chest feels narrow and at the same time as if it's about to burst and I wanna rip his head off,” you cry out. “Yeah, no, WebMD says- Actually, you're probably right, it's probably just a heart attack,” your best friend doubles down quickly. Lifting your head you unlock the door and step out, snatching the phone from her hands to read the screen. “What the fuck does WebMD know about heartache? How am I supposed to even have gotten that? I don't even like anyone. Especially not Rafe Cameron!” you sneer. “Okay, let's just calm down and then go back out there and not make a scene. You think we can do that?” Claire slowly pulls her phone out of your claws, and you glare at yourself in the mirror. “Of course we can.” It takes you a second to switch up your face, back to smiling and pretending like your life was just as good as everyone thought it to be. “Who cares about some small town asshole, right?”

You manage to spend the rest of the night without much drama, always making sure to not be close enough to him so he couldn't share another look with you or even get close enough to pull you away.

And when you get home you pull off your heels and throw them to the side while stepping out of the elevator. It takes some time to peel yourself out of the outfit you had forced yourself into, and even longer to free your hair from all the fixing gel the stylist had put in it. In the end you find yourself curled up on your couch, sweats on and a blanket drawn over you while eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie, just to make it easier on your heart.

You really want to avoid going to the office the next day, but after your dad announced to open another office down in Florida, you didn't expect him to put so much of the work on you to make up for it. That's how you find yourself buried in paperwork and working through the night, making it 4am when you finally get back home. And you're exhausted, drained and moody and not at all able to rejoice. The job you once loved is reduced to a dull day to day bullshit that you can only imagine being the worst you have ever felt. And all of it was because of him.

“You need to look at the Cameron account. He says we gave him a bad deal. Fix it,” your dad orders the next day, and you grit your teeth, but you can't just not do it. This was professional, nothing personal should've ever gotten in the way of that. “I'll fly down next thing tomorrow morning,” you tell him and hang up the phone. But getting back to the paperwork seems impossible.

The jet lands and you smell the salty air, so clean compared to New York. “Do you want to go to the hotel to freshen up first, miss?” your driver asks. “No, take me to the office. I want to be off this island again, as fast as possible.”

“Mr. Cameron isn't available right now,” his assistant tells you and you scoff. “He’s not getting a better deal unless he gets his ass over here in the next five minutes. Do you understand that?” you stare her down, and she nods before getting on the phone. “He's on his way, Miss,” she says shyly after hanging up, and you smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Didn't think you'd actually come down here for it,” Rafe mocks a laugh as he walks into the building, pulling his glasses off. “I take my job rather seriously, Mr. Cameron.” You look him up and down, there is no mistaking. He had been out golfing. “Let's go to my office,” he starts walking, and you follow, clenching your jaw because your eyes keep darting down to his ass, that looks so delicious in the tight pants.

“What's the issue with the contract?” you ask flatly, whilst taking the seat opposite of him. “Oh, there's no issue with the contract. Not that I don't think it's a perfect contract, but it's giving good enough profit on my end, so I shouldn't care too much about it,” he waves it off and you can feel your blood boiling. “Why did you make me fly all the way down here for nothing!” You spit out and stand, harshly pushing your chair back as you do. “That's it, that's the issue. There's nowhere in there where it says ‘Miss y/l/n has to come and check in on Mr. Cameron every once a month.’ We missed that little line, I'm afraid,” he's cocky. Too cocky. And for once you don't find it charming. “I'm your boss, remember?” Your eyes narrow and he smirks deeply. “You wouldn't be if I dropped you. I can always just do that. Unless you don't want me to. We wouldn't wanna disappoint daddy, right?” he mocks and you swallow hard. But he's bluffing, he has to be. “He'll understand after I tell him how you took advantage of me. Two can play this game, Rafe,” you say his name with so much disgust in your voice that he's pretending to be offended by it. “If anything, you were the one taking advantage of me. I mean, you are my superior after all. And I'm just a young man, who lost his father and is struggling to keep his company afloat.” “You're a real asshole, you know that?” “Been told before,” he grins.

“What do you really want?” you finally cave and ask the question that had been lying on your tongue since landing on the island. “You,” he looks at you, no hint of a lie in his eyes. “I don't want you, though,” you lie nonchalantly. But your heart is racing, and the heat has been puddling in your pants for some time. “Why not?” “I don't need to give a reason for that. At least I didn't go around hiring escorts or whatever for events that no one even wanted me to be at,” you huff. “Your dad invited me personally. He called, telling me about how much of a Debbie Downer you are. He actually tried to apologize for your behavior that day,” Rafe laughs and your eye starts twitching, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching in anger. “Listen, I know it's partially my fault, but I was the only one there who was actually prepared to teach you a lesson. I don't know if you've learned it yet, but I'd be more than happy to give you a refresher on it.” “You're fucked in the head, Rafe,” you mutter before going to walk out. “Yeah, ‘cause I'm the one with the unresolved issues here,” he calls after you as you storm out.

You know you can't go home already, it'd be too suspicious, so you take the room at the dumb hotel and at least try to relax a little.

The next morning your dad calls just to tell you to check out on the properties, make sure that Rafe wasn't selling undervalue. You make your way to the construction sites, your jeans and skimpy shirt are the only thing covering your body as you fight the heat. “The best Italian marble, Miss,” the site manager tells you while walking you through what would later be the master-bathroom. “Looks good. Will you be able to stick to the schedule?” you ask and hear a familiar laugh behind you. “Of course they will, we've got only the best men down here, Miss.” Rafe walks over and you roll your eyes. “I care about numbers and about making my clients happy. The rest is not on my level of expertise, especially the quality of men down here,” you tell him before looking back at the manager. “Thank you so much for the tour.”

You turn in your heels and walk out to what will one day be a beautiful garden. “Walk with me, Cameron.” “Are you suddenly interested again, or?” “Keep it in your pants, asshole. No, and I'll never be ever again.” “You say that now,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes again. “I'm not a puppet for anyone. Not for my dad, and especially not for you. Do you understand?” you urge, and he runs his hand over the light stubble on his chin. “I was just like that, then my shit father died and some therapy later, and now we're better than ever.” “You're wrong. I'm not like you, and I'll never be. Wanna know why?” you lean in and he swallows. “Pretty sure you're about to tell me, sugar.” “Because I actually chose this life because I wanted it, not because I felt guilty or like I needed some praise. My life is perfect as is. Understood?” “Sure you are,” he laughs. “I am!” Rafe leans in and whispers, “is that what you tell yourself, late at night when you can't cum unless you think of me. The way I made you beg, and you could only finish ‘cause I let you. Because at the end of the day, you'll always be my good girl.” You push him away from you, watching him stumble backwards, before stomping back to the house, through it and getting into your car.

You can't help it, it feels like he's jinxed you. And when you're back at the hotel and try to get off, you once again can't. It's frustrating to say the least and the worst part of it is that he knows, and you don't know how he found out, but it's too late for that.

You didn't intend to find yourself knocking on his door. But here you are, standing in your sweats and hoodie, hammering on the windowpane until you can see him run down the stairs, and you wrap your arms around yourself. “What are you doing here?” Rafe asks but lets you in, anyway. “I had a nice life. I was content with it all. I was happy. I could go to clubs and hook up in a dirty bathroom and get off whenever I liked. I was free!” you yell at him, but it's hard to stay focused the way he's standing in front of you. Bare chest and gray sweatpants that never could've tried to hide the outline of his massive dick even if he had wanted to. “I understand,” he tries his best to not smile as he wets his lips. “You owe me one. That's for fucking sure. So, I came to cash it in so we can go back to pretending neither of us exist or have any interest in each other in any way. Ever. Good?” you tilt your head to the side before storming past him upstairs into his bedroom. “That's a really bad idea!” Rafe calls after you, but he's also not actively stopping you. And when you open the door to his bedroom you know why. Or better who.

“Are you coming back to bed?” His assistant is lying there, face pressed into his pillow and completely naked. “Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you huff a laugh, pushing past him just as he made it up the stairs. “Y/n, I can explain,” he tries, but you're filled with rage. “Why would you need to explain anything? You're free to do what you like, or in this case who. I just don't know if HR would like to know about this arrangement,” you scream, not giving a single fuck about the girl. “We don't have HR,” Rafe reminds you. “Fine. You're fired.” Your voice has reached a pitch that you had never heard of yourself before and breathing got harder by the second. “You can't fire me.” “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Rafe! I can do anything I want!” ‘Apart from getting what I want, what I need,’ you think, but you don't tell him that. “I would've kicked her out if I'd known,” he tries to console you while following you back downstairs. “Oh, that's really soothing. Thank you, Rafe,” you scoff. “You're acting a little crazy right now, sugar.” “Says the guy who made up an emergency, so I would have to come down here in the hopes that I'd jump his bones? And the fact that it would've nearly worked if you weren't so fucking selfish. You're such a selfish asshole!” You don't even realize that you're crying until you rip the door open and the cold wind makes your teary face feel frozen. “And you're a bitch,” he snaps back, finally actually fighting. “You left without saying goodbye!” “You made me sleep on the fucking couch!” “I should've kicked you out on the street!” “Why the fuck are you suddenly pretending to care so much about what I think or do? I'm not even your type, remember?” he sneers and your walls, the perfectly built walls inside of you start crumbling.

“I don't have a fucking type, Rafe! I don't get to have a type! I get to take any hot guy that thinks it'd be fun to fuck a fat chick, because they are high or have to get a dare out of the way. And you don't get to hurt me. You don't get to tell me how to feel about myself. Do you get that? This is my game, I'm the queen, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be different. But you're not. You're just who I thought you'd be. No disappointment there.” Your rant calms you down a bit, and you get quieter with each sentence. “I'm going home. Don't even think about ever stepping foot into my city again.”

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taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180@drwstarkeyy@notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

part 4

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #my writing #angst

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