#high key exposing myself here
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Safety First
(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader
Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it.
Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌
A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.
Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.
Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.
“Hey—“ the deep familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs.
“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action.
The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond.
“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch.
“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“
“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”
You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.”
“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background.
__________________
Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7.
His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again.
“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response.
Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained.
He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car.
Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you.
The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more.
“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit.
“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.”
He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words.
“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.”
You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling.
“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks.
“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“
Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.”
“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.”
“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?”
“Understood.” You sniffle once more.
“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand.
__________________
You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”
“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.”
“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame.
“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back.
“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.”
“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears.
As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.
You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was.
Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.
But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace.
Simon was going to teach you to shoot.
______________
That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you.
“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast.
“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”
“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast.
“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug.
__________________
You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life.
Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could.
With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range.
The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this.
As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help.
“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity.
“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.”
“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.”
“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal.
Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms.
Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you.
“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy.
You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were.
“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.”
“But how did you—? Should I even—?”
“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.”
You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.”
“Good. Then let’s get after it.”
He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears.
“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses.
Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.”
“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”
Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies.
“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.”
His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?”
You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—
“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.”
You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”
“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.” You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier?
“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.”
You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him.
“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward.
It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside.
“Alright, she’s loaded now.”
“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”
“Now you point and shoot.”
“At what?”
“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley.
“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest.
Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track.
“Better?”
“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim.
With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger.
The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…
You’ve miss the target completely.
“S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles.
“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.”
You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level.
“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”
“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly.
“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.”
You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot.
“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.”
You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim.
A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger.
This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.
“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look.
Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down.
“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place.
You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!”
You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.”
And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless.
“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded.
“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around.
“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range.
You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.
“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response.
You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful.
Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon.
Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there.
Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.
“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon.
The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop.
“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs.
Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop.
You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height.
“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need.
His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs.
He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh.
You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.”
His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core.
Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him.
Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure.
His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take.
His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low.
“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?”
You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him.
“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm.
“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan.
“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock.
You nod fervently.
“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside.
You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained.
“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.”
You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss.
“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.”
Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely.
“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.”
His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life.
“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.
“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure.
“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“
“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.
“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out.
“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.
You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours.
You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive.
“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.”
You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.”
Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Something like that, love.”
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon “ghost” Riley x reader
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JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY
ran haitani x fem!afab!reader
cws: d/s dynamics, brat!reader, brat taming, spanking, fingering, spit, piv, creampie, ‘little girl,’ ‘brat,’ ‘slut’ used for reader, ask to tag.
from the ASM: ran and his girlfriend left in kind of a hurry after she spent the whole night with takeomi. i hope they don’t fight too bad.
over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment (teehee)
“i still don’t understand why you made us leave early!”
you pouted from your spot in the passenger’s seat of ran’s car, arms crossed over your chest and eyes focused on the night lights passing by. ran clicked his tongue in annoyance, his fingers gripping harder into the flesh of your thigh.
“i think you know exactly why we left early.”
“no, i don’t! it was so rude! all the other guys were still there and you threw a hissy fit and made us leave!” you whipped your head around to finally look at him for the first time since he had placed his hand on your back at the party and guided you away from your conversation.
he was angry. his jaw rolled at your comment, tongue clicking against his teeth. his index finger tapped against your thigh; if he was at a table, he’d be tapping that instead, rhythmically and with a certain ferocity behind it that meant you were in for it.
you knew what it was that caused him to get in this foul fucking mood. mostly because you had done it on purpose.
sidling up to takeomi to say hello in greeting was one thing. lingering around the older man, sharing a cigarette with him, letting him get you a drink from the open bar and eventually letting his hand wander to your thigh while talking? that was another thing entirely.
ran had been the one to invite you along to the work party as a plus one. manjiro industries needed to keep up public appearances, after all, and renting out an illustrious party hall for new year’s eve was one good way to keep things under wraps. your caring boyfriend had allowed you to come this year, under the impression that you would cling to him and let him take you home.
instead, you had grinned and made your rounds to the other executives, clad in a tight dress and that thick fur coat he had purchased for you, before taking a seat at takeomi’s table to ‘catch up,’ your words, not his.
ran did not appreciate your complete disregard of him at the dinner. he wouldn’t allow it to go unchecked.
“are you gonna answer me? or are you just going to sit there all quiet like you’re a child? what are we, five?” you hissed at him, trying to tug your thigh out from under his grip, but he curled his fingers tighter into your exposed flesh to prevent you from going anywhere. he said nothing as he used his other hand to turn the car into the parking garage of his high-rise building, veins in his forearm flexing with the movement. you hadn’t realized he hadn’t even put his suit coat back on before leaving, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. you had half a mind to ogle him at the moment, focusing on the fact that you were in fact still mad at him for his silent treatment and for being pulled from a fun party early.
he turned rather quickly into his parking spot, finally letting go of your thigh to put his luxury car in park and get out. you didn’t give him a chance to come around and open the door for you, as he often did. you stepped out of the vehicle, heels clicking along the pavement. he still wouldn’t look at you, not even coming around the car to wait for you. he slung his suit coat over his forearm and tucked his keys into his pocket as he felt around for his keycard, walking ahead of you.
“excuse me? hello? earth to ran? are you seriously going to ignore me now?”
“don’t yell, it echoes in here. you’ll embarrass yourself.”
oh, now you were boiling, hurrying your pace in your heels to catch up to him. “are you being serious? don’t embarrass myself? imagine how i felt when you practically dragged me out of that party! you’re acting like we’re in grade school!”
ran’s brows twitched as he rolled his eyes at you, swiping his keycard in the elevator pad to open the doors and allow you both access. you followed him in, and watched him swipe his keycard yet again to gain access to the top floor where his unit was.
“i don’t see how i’m the one acting like a child when you did the same shit. what were you thinking, huh? that getting all close to takeomi wouldn’t be such a bad idea?” his voice was rough as he tucked his keycard away in his pocket, cracking his knuckles as your face flared.
ah. this was about you. obviously it was, and you knew it well. your lips twitched before you turned away from him with a huff. “i don’t see an issue with knowing your coworkers, ran. or should i say, your other gang leaders.”
“no? you don’t think so?”
“nope. not at all.”
“final answer?”
“are we on a game show now? lock it in, host!”
“you’re a real fuckin’ brat, little girl.”
you didn’t get a chance to spew another word at him, because the elevator made that sweet chiming noise to let you know you were on the right floor, and ran was all up in your space.
his hand met your lower back and guided you out roughly, making you stumble in your heels. “hey-!”
“enough already. i don’t want to hear any more fucking complaints come from you. no sounds unless you’re crying my name, do you understand me?”
ran moved his hand from your lower back to the nape of your neck as the doors of the elevator closed silently behind you. his fingers dug into your skin as he forced you to look up at him. his eyes were blown and dark in that way that made your whole body feel like it was alight in flames.
your head bobbed in a yes motion, feeling the way his fingers were twitching against the sides of your neck. ran was pissed, rightfully so, and you were in for it.
he let go of you entirely and tossed his suit jacket over the back of the nearest loveseat, loosening his tie and sliding it off. you stood near the elevator still, dazed and confused, while he took a seat and messed with his tie.
he looked over the back of the couch at you with a glare and a crook of his finger, and you were following immediately, circling to the front of the couch and standing in front of him.
“turn around.”
you blinked down at him before slowly turning away from him. his hands reached up and tugged your fur coat off, tossing it haphazardly to the side and probably to the floor. you felt the rough pads of his fingers between your shoulder blades as he fumbled with the tiny zipper holding your dress up. he tugged it down, down, down, his knuckles ghosting along your spine as he moved, before he was peeling the fabric off of your body and dropping it to the floor to pool around your ankles.
“no panties, either? what, did you want to get slutted out to everyone in the fucking room?”
“no, i-”
“shut up.” he hissed through gritted teeth. “you could be so good if you just fucking listened.”
you stood bare in front of him, back turned to him on the couch. your thighs trembled; you knew that in the dim lighting of the lamps in the living room, ran could see the slick that glistened between your folds.
he tapped the back of one of your knees and you turned to face him. he’d unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt, tattoos starting to poke out. he sat up on the couch then and reached up to grab your jaw, squishing your cheeks together and tugging you close. you gasped slightly from the sudden movement, stumbling forward to stand between his knees.
“open.”
you furrowed your brows at him, and he squeezed your cheeks harder.
“i said, open.”
with a tap of his index finger on your cheek, you relented fully, opening your mouth as asked. you expected him to shove his fingers into your mouth, make you gag and choke.
what you didn’t expect was for him to take a brief pause before spitting directly into your mouth. you moaned, a sound you didn’t anticipate to come from your own throat, as the taste of his saliva coated your tongue.
you barely had a moment to think about it before ran’s mouth was on yours, practically devouring you whole as his hands moved to your hips to drag you into his lap.
you went with ease, straddling his waist and wrapping your arms tight around his neck. he hungrily licked into your mouth, tasting the drink that takeomi had gotten for you still on your tongue mixed with his spit.
he pulled back with your bottom lip between your teeth, making you whimper and grip at the short hair at the base of ran’s neck.
“y’such a needy little fuckin’ brat, huh? goin’ out to a party with dangerous men and wearing nothing underneath your little dress. what did you want to happen? wanted one of the other men to grab you and whore you out in front of everyone? in front of the boss?”
he growled practically against your lips as you started to rock against the bulge in his slacks, no doubt leaving a wet patch in your wake. one of his hands moved from your hip, and for a moment you thought he would grab a handful of your tits like he always did, flicking at your nipple and making you keen.
ran, ever the surprising man, brought his hand down on your ass, hard.
you cried out from the sting and arched your back, tears springing to the corners of your eyes. “r-ran-”
“that’s a good girl, finally saying my name like i asked.” ran hummed against your jaw as he nipped at the skin there, bringing a heavy hand down against your ass again and making you jolt and whine.
suddenly his hands returned to your hips, and he moved you easily down onto the couch cushions, pushing your face into a throw pillow and hiking your hips up high. sometimes you wondered how he had the strength to move you around like you were nothing, but you were in no position to ask him at the moment. you felt dizzy as you hit the couch, hips wriggling and hands scrambling for purchase on the cushions.
you heard the clinking of ran’s belt behind you, feeling the warmed metal of the gucchi logo bump against your thigh as he slid it out of his belt loops. you felt one of his hands slide along your spine, rings dragging along your skin, the other coming down on your other ass cheek and making you yelp.
“brats like you need to be reminded of who you belong to, don’t you think?”
you went to respond, but again, you didn’t get a chance. ran’s two middle fingers swiped through your folds before pushing into your tight hole, scissoring you open roughly and stretching you out. you felt his rings bump against your pussy, the cold metal making you pulse around his digits.
“you get off on making me mad, don’t you? you like when i throw you around and spank this pretty ass?”
you nodded, and heard him stifle a laugh. “of course you do. sluts like you crave attention. that’s why you were all over takeomi tonight. i heard he gets real rough on girls. you want me to be rougher? huh? answer me.”
you were drooling against the pillows as his fingers hooked into you in the right spots, dragging along your gummy walls and filling the large living room with the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. you found it in yourself to nod, head turning to press your cheek into the pillow and try to get a better glimpse of ran bending over your back.
this time, he did laugh, removing his fingers and popping them in his mouth for a taste. you clenched around nothing, feeling so empty without his fingers filling you just right. “all you had to do was ask, brat. you didn’t need to go and make me angry.”
there was a pause as you heard him fumble with the fabric of his slacks, leaving you trembling in front of him. knowing he was still mostly dressed while you were completely nude in front of him almost made you bashful, wanting to shy away from him as he freed his cock and slapped the tip against your clit.
“beg.”
“ran! ran, please, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have gotten close to ‘omi, jus’ wanted you to be rough, i’m sorry, please fuck me!” the words tumbled from your wet lips so effortlessly, thrumming at the feeling of ran’s cock sliding slowly through your folds as he listened to you whine.
he slapped his hand down against your ass, and you swore the rings on his fingers would leave bruises in the morning with indents of the hard metal bands. he grasped both globes of your ass and spread you open for him, cock pressed up against your dripping hole as he had you exposed in front of him.
you heard him gather spit between his lips before it dripped down onto your pussy, cold and tantalizing, as if he was further lubing you up.
“wanted me to be mean to you? shoulda just said that.”
you babbled incoherently until finally, finally, he popped the head of his cock into your cunt and bullied his long length all the way in.
you moaned, already starting to shake as he started a rough pace. his hand repeatedly came down on your ass, making you shake and cry out under him. if it was possible, you knew he’d be in your guts.
he filled you perfectly, slamming himself into your sweet spot over and over again. he bent his body over your back, the fabric of his shirt scratching against your skin as he moved one of his hands to shove three fingers into your mouth. he pressed on your tongue and made you gargle and gag around his digits, smiling meanly at your teary face.
“see, brat? this is what happens when you get me mad. this what you needed tonight? just needed to get fucked so hard you can’t see? can’t - fuck - think? squeezin’ me so tight, don’t tell me you wanna cum already.”
you did. his words, the spanking to your ass, it had you spinning and flying close to the edge within minutes. ran was chuckling breathlessly at you, gritting his teeth from how tight you were squeezing his cock.
he fucked into you hard and rough, tip of his cock carving a home inside your tight walls. your ass stung, each smack sending you closer and closer. you choked on his fingers when he pushed them further back into your mouth, almost into your throat.
“fine, slut. go ahead, cream all over my cock. cum. fucking cum.”
you practically screamed. well, you would have, had there not been three fingers in your mouth making you gag and drool all over his hand. your whole body shook as your eyes rolled back, pleasure washing over you like a tsunami’s wave hits the coast.
ran did not stop. he didn’t slow down, not for a second.“we’re not done here. you wanted mean, you’ll get mean.”
#ran haitani x reader#ran x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokrev x reader#tr x reader#♧ — ran haitani#♤ — message from owner
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Panties and Parties
John makes you jealous. You make him pay by only letting him watch. (Shorter version, longer version is here.)
Pairing: Captain Price x fem!reader
Rating: mature, explicit, MDNI
Warnings: voyeurism, mutual stuff, panty sniffing, smutty AF. NSFW under the cut.
You wiled away the last hour of the party in a sour and short mood. The attention John got from the women at the party put you in a foul mood. Once the drawn out goodbyes were done, you and John waited for the driver.
“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” John puffs his cigar, taking short drags, the end pulsing orange.
“Why not ask your new friend?”
He grunts an affirmative.
“These events are bullshit but they go a long way if I just play the role. And that includes having to be interested in some generals’ daughters’ non profit organisation. I couldn’t give a single fuck,” he turns to you “but I need to look like I do.”
“I get it, you’re at work, it just doesn’t look like you are.” You drawl. “And she was so annoying.”
“That she was.”
Price opens the taxi door and helps you in, closing the door once you were all in. He fills the back seat, his dress pants are neatly ironed, his legs spread. He’s deliberately touching your leg. He thinks he’s in the clear.
John gives the driver the address, his face awash in the vibrant colours of the city, neon lights separated by dark alley ways fill your window.
You wriggle around in the seat, you look like you’re adjusting your dress.
“Lucky for you I didn’t make an idiot of myself.” You touch him high on his thigh. “Or you.” He lets out the most imperceptible grunt.
“I was in the firing line a few times…” he side eyes you.
“Was? You still are.” You feel his cock hardening under your inquisitive palm. You’re looking out the window, he can only see your cheekbones, the dangly earrings he bought you reflecting what little light there was.
“I know it wasn’t the best night. Thank you for not going ballistic on her. Or me.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” You squeeze his cock.
“Well I don’t know if I deserve this.” He says quietly, eyes hooded.
“You don’t.” You let go of his clothed hard on and when he looks down, he sees you’ve left your black lace thong on his lap. You had pushed down with your thong and the wetness had left a slight smear on his trousers.
You can hear his breathing, heavy and punctuated, he shoots a look to the unaware driver and then pockets the fabric, clearing his throat.
“Sweethear-” he starts.
You shush him, your finger goes from your pouted lips to his pulsing cock.
When you arrive at John’s flat, you admire how he surreptitiously adjusts his cock, an impressive feat for one so well endowed in tight dress pants.
He pays the driver and you petulantly wait for him to open the car door for you. You were in this role too deeply to let up now.
“Darling.” He groans when you cup his manhood as he leads you from the car.
Your heels click in the cool night and John follows you dutifully into the elevator. You run your hands through his thick hair, roughing it up.
You walk ahead of him and when you get to his door, you lean against it and face him, you watch him walk towards you with the keys.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he grits out, missing the keyhole several times because you pulled your dress straps down to expose your swollen breasts.
He’s large enough to cover you so his neighbours across the hall don’t get a free view, he slams the key in and you both tumble into the hall way.
He holds you firmly by your hips and pushes his cock against you, kissing you desperately, feverishly.
You pull away from the kiss and his hands with some effort, you gesture for him to follow you.
“Don’t take that off.”
“You want me to fuck you in the uniform, darling?” He smirks, his accent getting stronger. On any other given day, you would have said yes. But tonight was different.
“Something like that, take a seat.” You point to the arm chair that was in the corner of the master bedroom, some 2 meters away from the foot of the bed. Thinking he’s about to get some lap action, he relaxes into the seat, legs spread invitingly.
He moans as you place one of your shoes onto his thigh, the sole digging in ever so slightly. He quickly undoes the finicky little buckle. You repeat this with your other foot but you dig it in harder. You run your hand in his hair again and wrench his head back. You get in his face, he smells like expensive scotch and cologne. You’re sure the woman smelled this too and felt the same pulse in her clit.
“You don’t get to touch.”
“What?” He laughs dryly.
“You don’t get to touch me or yourself.” He’s still holding your shoes, dumbly staring as you climb onto the large bed by yourself and lay on your back, kneading your breasts.
“Darlin’.” He laughs, incredulous at your vindictiveness. He really thought he was going to get it easy tonight.
You make eye contact with him as you pull your dress over your hips, legs spread open. You run your fingers down and then up your swollen slit, a deep shivered sigh leaves your lips. A sigh leaves his lips at the same time.
You push two fingers in. Head thrown back. Other hand digging into the duvet. Sweat glistens on your cleavage.
You hear John swear and the leather creak as he adjusts himself in his seat. His suit jacket is open haphazardly as it’s not meant to be worn unbuttoned, his opened collar exposing a hint of dark chest hair and a thick sweaty neck. His polished smart shoes glint in the low light.
You raise your hand up towards him: your slick glistens on your fingers. He whimpers. Swears. Breathes out.
“Oh fuck.” You moan out as you bring your hand back down to you rub your clit, toes curling.
“F’fucks sake y/n.” He grunts up at the ceiling, he sounds angry but you know it’s his self control beating against the self imposed bars.
You then get onto your knees and shuck the dress over your head, throwing it aside, you’re pretty sure you heard a seam rip. You bounce on an invisible cock and mewl, John watches your tits move, nipples like diamonds.
“Fucking hell, y/n I need you.” John groans.
You lean over to the dresser on your side of the bed, pushing your ass out so he can suffer some more. You unzip a bag and out comes your vibrator. It’s close to John’s size, a very deliberate purchase. You love that his pupils are blown out, a ring of icy blue stares back at you in need.
You fall on to your back again and your glistening, sopping cunt needs no prep, you rub the toy along your slit and then smoothly push it into yourself, right down to the hilt, a guttural moan joins the wet noises in the room.
He had also pulled something out; your thong. He unfolds it, struggling to find the gusset and marvels at the wet patch with a moan and half lidded eyes, heavy with need.
“Y/n, please,” his voice sounds muffled and when you look over to see why, you’re enlightened by the sight of your thong to his nose. His lips are parted and he grips his cock through his trousers as best he can. He is incoherent with your scent.
“Please y/n, y’want me to beg? Fuck.” A rasp.
You plunge the toy in and out of yourself. It wasn’t anything like the pneumatic pace John usually gave you, but it was hitting the spot. You chased your high with your other hand on your clit, ignoring John’s pleas.
You feel that familiar pressure in your stomach, it’s coiling and your breathing hitches in your throat.
“I’m close John,” you rasp, “I want you to cum for me.” You manage to moan out between pants, forearms aching from the movement.
He wastes no time in unzipping his trousers and pushing them down. He pulls the waistband of his boxers down and his girthy cock flops out angrily, smearing a ludicrous amount of precum on his jacket. You wonder for a moment if he already came. The sigh that leaves his lips when he wraps his hand around himself is primordial, he lets out a full body shudder.
His left hand grips his thigh, you see his broad and bulky shoulders moving in rhythm with his right hand, he stares at you like you’re prey. You moan at his untethered lust. He won’t last long.
He bares his teeth for a flash of a moment, you see a canine in the low light while he pumps his cock furiously. He grunts out your name and he comes with a jerk, hips bucking, pearly ropes of cum hit his chest, landing on his jacket.
You watch unashamedly and immediately your moans get higher in pitch as you hit your peak, calling out his name and gasping. Your pussy convulses and you shudder. You pull the toy out completely with a husky moan and leave it where it lands, panting into the now silent room.
You laugh as you try to lift your head up, John is an absolute mess, his turgid cock twitching against his stomach as he laughs with you.
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you take that to the drycleaners,” you chuckle, out of breath, throat dry.
All you hear is an equally parched “for fucks sake.”
#captain price#john price cod#john price smut#captain price x female reader#captain price x you#captain price x y/n#captain price x reader#john price x you#john price x female reader#john price x y/n#john price x reader#cod fanfic
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BEAT THEY AHH
This was recommended by one of my bookie wookies @liauroo
No offence to all the Tiffany’s out there😅.
You don’t know what happened, but all you remember is you laying on the floor, barely unable to move, then the sound of an ambulance, and miles face, him saying words but it came out muffled.
Now your here.
Sitting in a hospital bed, with a busted up face.To be specifice a bloody nose, busted lip,bruised cheek, knuckles, and a sprained ankle.“MA, what happened!?” Miles asked, bursting into the room with a worried expression. “ Well got into a lil brawl apparently” you said sheepishly as you nervously laughed. “Did you win- I mean, With who? when? Why?” He asked as he cupped your face. “With Tiffany, during the second period, cuz she was talking through her neck and thinking nothing was gonna happen to her with her stank ass” you sassed, crossing your arms, kissing your teeth as you did. “Actually she got in 2 fights” Someone announced making both you and Miles turn their hands. It was J.B. your best friend. Well about to the EX best friend if she keeps exposing you like this.“TWO” Miles yelled looking at you slightly disappointed. “Wit who?”, “an argument with the kid named Hakeem and a fist fight with Tiffany” J.B. confirmed making you scowl. “Wait, I was just in the period with you, how is that possible?” the man complained.
“Well it all happened when-”
Flash back:
“Ms. Carter, can we please send Miles Morales to the counselor office” The announcements said.
“Yea sure”
The class was in the middle of a group project till he got called. Everyone feared Miles, they had so much to say but couldn't say it to his face. It honestly pissed you off. As soon as he closed the door, Hakeem started to stalk his shit. “Uh oh, looks like mama’s boy needs therapy” Hakeem teased. You could feel your soul shift, “well atleast his mama wants him unlike your ass” you muttered, but just enough got him to hear you. The male's eyes widened as he got flushed when some of the people heard you.
Him being aggressive and never shutting up. So when the teacher left the classroom for a bit, he took the opportunity to grab your desk making you face him, there could be a loud screech being heard throughout the class catching everyone's attention. “The fuck did you say lil girl” he spat getting in your face.“If I can smell your breath, then back. Up” you said in a warning tone, fr about to get physical. “
I was talking to you lil girl” he spat grabbing your face, making you grimence as he pulled you closer. Since he touched you first, it would be labeled as self defense. You kicked him in the knee causing him to hunch over.
“Don’t try that shit again with me bitch, next time your ass will be getting mollywhopped.” you spat.
End of flashback:
Miles stared at you with his mouth slightly open. “W-wait he said huh”. “Mhm, he does it everytime” you admit. Miles was high key flabbergasted, then he got himself. “I appreciate you defending me ma, but I can handle it myself” he reassured. “Baby I don’t give a damn, I’m your twin, I’m not gonna let that slide”,
“You're literally in a hospital bed right now”,
“Miles i don’t give a fuck, I should have molly-woped his ass,and it was worth it”.
Miles was disappointed. He pintched his nose bridge and layed back in his chair. “Do I even what, to here the buffoonery you got yourself into with Tiffany” he asked.
“Actually she had a valid point for rocking her shit” J.B. objected, making you nod. “So it all started a lil while back where everyone and they mama was accusing me of flirting with her man, but literally everyone and their mama knows I’m talking to you,” you started as you sat up.
“Right, so what happened?”
“I rocked her shit is what happened”
“Oh sweet jesus”
Flash back:
You were currently on your way to your next period and that required you going down the stairs. As you took the first step you felt hands on the back of your shoulders and a strong ass force pushing you. Making you stumble and literally hit your forehead on the pole. Gasp and laughter erupted as you clutched your head in pain. “Son of a gun” you muttered, feeling a hard pounding run through your head. Then all of a sudden,someone and their hot breath pinned me against the wall. “Yo, what the fuck-” bit before you could finish ou were interrupted.“ so You thought you could flirt with my man and get away with it weirdo”. You instantly knew it was tiffany.
“Yo wa-”, “Answer the fuck question slut” she spat. When you proceed the information, and it all settled in, you realized. She was really playing with her life. But that fall and you hitting your head on that pole really messed you up, and her just pushing you against the wall repeatedly was messing you up more. “Get your hands off me” you yelped, pushing Tiffany's arm off of you as you clutch your head in pain. And just like any girl fight, She pulled your hair, but that didn’t last long when you grabbed the collar of her shirt and tripped her laying her on her back. A move Miles taught you a while ago.
And just for good measure, and for fun, you kicked her in the gut.
But before the fight could even, you blacked out.
End of flashback:
“She pushed you down the stairs!?” he yelled making you recoil a bit at the sudden outburst. “yes that's what I just said bookie. See now if I had caught myself in time, then I wouldn't be in the hospital bed while the doctors try to make sure I have no concussions.” you complained. “Not you still putting her in her place when you were on the verge of dying” Miles chuckled.
“Yea, and from what I’ve heard I sat on top of her, witch I don’t remember” you said genuinely. “Well that part I do remember” he said traumatized, a shiver going down his spine.
“In my defense I’m innocent as can be, They all put their hands on me first, and it’s technically labeled as self defense so I’m not in the wrong” you admit rolling your eyes. “Sweety… no”
“What, it’s a win win anyways, I got sent to the hospital, and she did as well”
“You sent her to the hospital!?”
“Of course, may I remind you she pushed me down stairs, why are you on her side”
“...You know what you're right, lemme’ go pay Hakeem and Tiffany a little visit”.
“Miles, no”
“Trust they will be dealt with”
#miles morales#earth 42 miles#earth 42 miles morales x reader#e.42 miles#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles fluff#miles morales x reader#atsv prowler#earth 42 prowler#miles morales prowler
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toy cars & princess tea parties ♡ steddie x reader
nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!! srsly i will scream
word count - 4.8k
description - a few years after the (non-canon) events of season four, steddie and reader are grappling with the implications of adulthood-- eddie comes home from work with an interesting idea to take their relationship to the next milestone...
tags/warnings - polyamory, pet names (baby, princess, angel, doll, etc.), praise, threesome, breeding, fem!reader, eddie being mischievous bc he 100% planned this, steve playing right into eddie’s hand and going absolutely feral, p-in-v ofc ♡ also one use of (Y/N) which i didn’t know was a problem for some people but apparently it is so there’s ur warning
a/n - ok i’m sorry but ever since my first time witnessing the six lil nuggets speech i cannot get over the CANONIZED FACT that steve harrington is INTO BREEDING. it’s canon to me and u can ARGUE WITH THE WALL. that being said i felt it was my civic duty to rope eddie into it bc i physically cannot help myself and here we are ♡ i hope u enjoy, i will repent later ♡
p.s. i used the stand-in name ‘jennifer’ for them to refer to a random npc classmate of theirs bc apparently that was an incredibly popular name in the 80′s so if ur name is actually jennifer i am sorry in advance but the name is only mentioned like two or three times at the beginning so
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ! ♡
-venus ♡
It started out as a quiet, normal evening.
You were curled up on the couch with Steve, drifting in and out of naps as he played with your hair and absently watched whatever was on the TV. You were both off work today, and unsurprisingly, it was rather quiet without Eddie around. He'd been working late shifts at the record store lately-- something about a coworker needing a schedule change to coincide with her college classes.
So, there the two of you sat, your hair messy with sleep as you slumped into Steve's chest, his strong arm closed tight around your shoulder, thumb caressing your exposed arm where your blanket had slipped down. It was cozy, it was lazy, it was sweet.
A stark contrast to what you didn't know you were in for that night.
Your sleepy eyes blinked open at the sound of the front door to your shared apartment opening, and you and Steve both turned your heads to see Eddie walk in. Eddie tossed his keys on the counter and stretched his arms up with a dramatic, satisfied groan before kicking his boots off, and his dark chocolate eyes soon trailed across the room to you and Steve.
His lips were quick to upturn into a smile. "What a sight to come home to. Aren't you two just adorable?"
"Says you," You mumbled tiredly, opening up your arms so as to coax him to join you on the couch. "How was work?"
Eddie's posture softened and he wasted little time giving into your command, plopping down on the couch beside you and joining Steve in playing with your hair. "It was fine. Work's work, y'know."
You hummed in acknowledgement, just about to drift back to sleep at the added warmth of his body before he spoke up again.
"Do you guys remember Jennifer from high school?" Eddie asked.
Steve pondered for a moment. "Jennifer... which Jennifer?"
"Chess club Jennifer," Eddie confirmed. "She came into the record store with her boyfriend today, that guy Todd? Well, I guess he's her husband now. Anyway, she was like, super pregnant. Isn't that weird to think about? People we went to high school with are having kids now."
It certainly was weird to think about. High school felt like it was a lifetime ago just about as much as it felt like yesterday, and classmates getting married and starting families were just another harsh reminder that you were all well and truly adults now.
"Yeah... wow. That's a trip," You mumbled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "Sometimes I forget we're not 16 anymore."
"Yeah, seriously," Steve hummed in agreement, and you could have sworn you noticed his muscles tense beneath you.
"Well, good for them," You added, hoping to cut through some of that tension. "They've been dating since like, freshman year. I guess it was only a matter of time."
Eddie let out a little breath through his nose, grinning as he stared forward at the TV, but it was evident he wasn't really watching.
You raised an eyebrow and nudged him. "What?"
Eddie shrugged, drumming his fingers on your hip and stealing glances between you and Steve. "Only a matter of time, huh?" He asked. "Good to know."
Eyes widening, you quickly straightened your posture and stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" You pressed further. Steve was watching him too, reaching for the remote and muting the TV without even looking. The silence was deafening.
Eddie shrugged again, face smug with amusement. "I don't know, it's just... seeing them all happy together and starting a family, it just kinda got me thinking, y'know? That could be us someday."
Steve's hand froze on your arm, and now you could hardly read his expression. You just stared between them with eyes so wide you were sure they could see right through them and into the cogs turning in your head.
"Just think about it for a sec, okay? Indulge me for a minute," Eddie continued. "Little Munsons and Harringtons running around, Saturday morning cartoons, bathing fat little babies in the sink... wonder whose seed'll take first," He chuckled to himself.
But that comment alone got to you. Your face burned, and now it was you pretending to watch the TV, even with the sound off. Heat pooled in your core with an embarrassing quickness, and it felt nearly impossible to fight off the image of trying, Steve and Eddie fucking you into a sobbing mess and filling you up to the brim, competing to see who would knock you up first. You swallowed dryly.
"I-I need some water," You stammered, peeling yourself out of their arms and abandoning your blanket as you disappeared into the kitchen.
You had never really talked about having kids before. Steve had always shown an interest in starting a family, but you weren't really sure where you stood, and Eddie didn't seem like the type. You always figured it would be a conversation for another day, a day in the distant future when you were all finally adults working big jobs, picket fence and whatnot.
Yet here you were.
"You alright there, baby?" Steve's voice broke you out of your deep thought and you realized your glass was full beneath the tap, cool water spilling out over your fingers shortly after he'd spoken.
You flinched and turned off the water, setting your glass down and reaching for a rag to dry your hands. You couldn't quite bring yourself to look at him as you replied, "I'm fine, just... thinking."
"Thinkin' pretty hard, it looks like," Eddie teased, coming up behind you with a squeeze to your hips and a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. "Didn't mean to freak you out, doll."
"I'm not freaked out! I promise," You were quick to clarify, taking a big sip of your water with a shaking hand. "Just... caught off guard, I guess. I've never really thought about having kids before."
Eddie let out a little pff. "Oh, come on, I don't believe that. You've never thought about it before? Not even one time?"
You shook your head.
He turned you around in his arms, taking the glass from your hand and returning it to the counter, ensuring he had your full attention. Steve was leaned on the door frame listening, observing. Watching your reddened face.
"You're blushing," Eddie chuckled quietly, leaning down to brush his lips over your forehead before turning over his shoulder to look at Steve. "Help me out here, Harrington?"
But Steve looked just about as flustered as you did. "It would be nice," He admitted. "I've thought about it. A lot. You would make a beautiful mother, (Y/N)."
"See?" Eddie smirked. "Harrington agrees with me."
"Don't you guys think we should wait? I mean, the apartment works just fine for the three of us, but it's a little small to raise kids in, and we're still so young," You said, though you weren't fully sure whether you were trying to convince them or yourself. "It's just a really big decision. I don't think we should rush into it."
"We can get a house!" Eddie grinned, brushing your hair away from your face. "I'll work overtime at the record store, book extra gigs at The Hideout. Whatever I need to do to make that happen. We'll find somewhere real nice, fenced yard and all that. Maybe we can even talk Steve into building a treehouse."
"I don't know, Eds..." You sighed.
You fully expected Steve to back you up on the absurdity of that suggestion, but he didn't. "That's not such a bad idea. I've been saving up from my paychecks since we graduated. It was meant to be a safeguard if Vecna came back and we all needed to hit the road, but it's been a few years now. Maybe we should just do it. Real estate's pretty cheap around here, given everything that's happened."
Perhaps they had a point, although selfishly, you sort of wanted them to keep trying to talk you into it.
"That's great, but have you guys really thought this through? Like really thought it through? Babies are a lot of work, and our relationship is hard enough to explain as it is, people are going to have so many questions--"
"Then let ‘em ask," Eddie interrupted you, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, though he quickly became distracted by your throat, tipping your chin up with his pointer finger. "I don't give a fuck. It doesn't change anything. They'll just be jealous that they don't have an extra parent for their kids like we do, right Stevie?" He spoke between increasingly sloppy kisses to your neck, teeth nipping at your warming skin.
"Exactly," Steve smiled softly, crossing his legs where he stood, and you almost could have sworn you saw the front of his sweatpants tightening. "We're already better off than most couples, if my math is right."
You were quickly melting under Eddie's attention, and Steve's lustful gaze. While you might have initially hoped that excusing yourself for a drink of water would help you cool off, it was entirely obvious now that such an attempt was in vain-- you couldn't fight with yourself anymore. They'd successfully convinced you.
Swallowing thickly, you tangled your fingers into Eddie's messy curls and could hardly bring yourself to look at either of them as you spoke in a near-whisper, "O-Okay, let's do it..."
Eddie froze, pulling away from your neck with a parting nip of the flesh so that he could stare at you with stars in his eyes. "What did you just say?" He asked.
Shyly, you glanced between them, a giddy smile tugging at your burning cheeks. They both looked truly in disbelief. "I said let's do it. Let's try for a baby."
Eddie hardly had a chance to react before Steve crossed the small kitchen and took your face in his hands, pupils blown wide as his mouth collided with yours. You stumbled back into the countertop at the force of him, gripping the edge with one hand and fisting his old Hawkins High gym shirt with the other. Eddie could do little but step back and observe, and unbeknownst to you and Steve, since you were preoccupied, Eddie had quite the satisfied smirk resting on his face. Truthfully, he knew this was what Steve wanted and that it likely wouldn't be much of a challenge to get you both going, the devil that he is. There was nowhere better to start than to just witness the fruit of his efforts.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Steve spoke against your lips, letting one hand drop down to slide up beneath your shirt-- a shirt you'd stolen from Eddie's side of the closet-- and you shivered at the feeling of his warm skin on yours. "No idea how long I've wanted to hear you say it, princess..."
"S-Steve--" You gasped, but he wasn't finished yet.
"Say it again," He grunted, hips rutting into yours, and... yeah, his grey sweatpants were definitely getting tight. "Say you're gonna make me a fuckin' daddy, sweetheart."
Eddie watched with anticipation, palming impatiently at the front of his jeans. He knew Steve wanted this, but he didn't know he wanted it this badly.
Breaths quickening, you briefly took Steve's bottom lip between your teeth just to drive him that much crazier before giving in to his request, voice soft and sweet. "I'm gonna make you a fucking daddy, Steve..."
Steve let go of your face to hike one of your legs up over his hip, driving his clothed cock into the seat of your thin pajama shorts. You let out a choked whine, feeling a rush of wetness pooling in your panties, head swimming with need.
"Forgetting someone, angel?" Eddie interjected smugly, eyebrow raised, working himself stiff over his jeans.
Panting against Steve's hot, wet kisses, you barely managed to get the words out. "G-Gonna make you a daddy, Eds... gonna give you a baby..."
Steve groaned against you, lips sloppily trailing down your chin as he lifted you up in one quick motion, peeking his eyes open just enough to orient himself so that he could carry you towards the bedroom. You grabbed at Eddie's free hand as you passed, dragging him along with you, although he hardly needed any convincing-- he'd been waiting for this all day, resisting the urge to feign a sudden onset illness just to skip out of work and fuck you dumb, even though it appeared Steve was determined to beat him to it.
Steve shoved the bedroom door open with a heavy hand and wasted no time pinning you to the bed, tugging at your shirt like he'd die if it didn't come off, and in your eagerness to be touched by them you were quick to lift it over your head for him, exposing your soft chest to the cool air of the room. Steve's teeth dragged over your collarbones and down to the swell of your breast, sucking a harsh mark there before he took your nipple into his mouth and swirled over it with his slick tongue.
"F-Fuck," You sighed, taking a fistful of his thick hair.
Eddie shed himself of his t-shirt and jeans before joining the two of you on the bed, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand and stroking his hardened cock with the other. "You're gonna look so pretty with a baby in you, dollface," He mused, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Everyone's gonna know you're fuckin' ours, huh? Ours forever."
You nodded hazily, reaching out to grab at his thigh, your nails pressing little crescent moon shapes into his alabaster skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, pace of his hand faltering. Eddie didn't want to cum just yet, for obvious reasons, but it was hard to stop himself from jerking off as he watched you writhe under Steve's touch. He found himself having to exercise some serious self control.
Pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, Steve slid his hand beneath the waistband of your shorts and ran two fingers over your drenched panties. "So good and wet for me already," He praised, watching with lust thick in his eyes as you inadvertently bucked into his hand. "You just can't wait, can you? Want me to fuck a baby into you so bad..."
"Y-Yes, Steve, please," You whimpered, shaking hands carding through his hair. "W-Want it so bad..."
"Easy, Harrington," Eddie chuckled breathlessly. "It was my idea. I'm goin' first."
Steve shot him a look that could truly kill, dragging his fingertips over your clothed clit just to make you squirm. "What are we, twelve?" He scoffed.
"Whatever. Don't make me push you off the bed, Stevie. Move," Eddie grunted, expecting Steve to put up more of a fight, but he didn't. He simply rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand from your shorts, clambering off of you to busy himself undressing for now.
Eddie crawled atop your trembling body, kissing down your chest as he dragged your panties and shorts down with a hooked finger. You hastily kicked them off and let them drop off the edge of the bed, leaving you completely bare for them. Eddie took a moment to soak in the sight of you with adoring, hungry eyes, dipping a calloused finger into your folds to ensure you were as wet as Steve said-- you definitely were, in fact, even more so than he'd been led to believe.
With a proud smirk and shaking hands he took hold of your hip, dragging the reddened, weeping head of his cock up the length of your pussy to slick himself with your arousal. You flinched at the stimulation, bucking toward him with a soft mewl of his name, a coded plea for him to get on with it, and he chuckled.
"I've got you, baby," He soothed, gifting you a sweet kiss. "Gonna fuck you real good, promise."
Your jaw dropped in bliss as the head of his cock breached your entrance, and without even thinking about it you hooked a leg around him and drew him deeper into you. He was trying to be gentle, considering they hadn't prepared you quite as well as they usually would, but he was impatient and clearly, so were you. His hips jerked into yours as he lost himself to the feeling of your plush, soaked walls hugging him tightly, and as he buried himself in to the hilt he let out a low growl that was almost animalistic.
Eyelashes fluttering, you whimpered in pleasure at the feeling, holding his soft biceps to ground yourself. "Fuck, Eddie..." You sighed, rocking into him.
"Jesus, baby, you gotta be patient, or I'm gonna bust and then neither of us will get to enjoy this," He chuckled breathlessly, fingertips pressing into your hips as he slowly began to move. "Fuck, you feel like a dream..."
Your head fell back into the pillows as the pace of his thrusts picked up and steadied-- he'd quickly found his rhythm, watching your tits move with every snap of his hips against yours, and he could hardly believe his luck that he'd found two people as perfect as you and Stevie, let alone that you'd agreed to start a family with him. Just the thought of it drove him crazy, and he could barely look at you anymore or he would finish way too soon. Screwing his eyes shut, Eddie let his own head fall back similarly to yours as he submitted himself to the feeling, and the sinful sounds of your slick cunt taking all he would give you.
Steve, newly naked, sat beside you on the bed, taking your breasts into his big hands, thumbs skimming over your pebbled nipples as he watched Eddie fuck you. "Takin' him so well, sweetheart," He mused, resisting the urge to reach for your clit. "You're such a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"
"S-Stevie," You whined, speech slurring with pleasure as you reached weakly for his hand. "Feels so... so good..."
He hummed, taking a hold of your hand, lips brushing over your knuckles. "I'll bet it does, princess. Gonna let Eds make you a mama, huh?"
"Mhm," You nodded, squeezing his hand. "A-And you too..."
Steve chuckled softly, kissing your knuckles again, more affirmatively this time. "That's right. That's my good girl."
With the combination of their filthy words and the near bruising feeling of Eddie's engorged cock prodding at your cervix, you were ashamed to admit that you were already nearing the finish line too. You desperately clenched around Eddie in an attempt to hold on, but it would seem as though the action brought him that much closer to his own end.
His rings were cold on your hot skin as one hand moved from your hip to the lower part of your stomach, applying just enough pressure to intensify the feeling of his swollen cock inside you. Your mouth fell open in a near silent cry, and Eddie couldn't help a breathless little laugh at your reaction. He just couldn't believe how adorable you were, how perfect you looked even while he was fucking you like a touch starved teenager.
"Right here," Eddie groaned, taking his lip between his teeth with a wild grin. "That's where our perfect little baby is gonna grow, right between these gorgeous fuckin' hips of yours, princess..." His inked skin glowed with sweat in the low bedroom light, and your cheeks burned.
It was in that moment that you started to realize that Eddie really must have been thinking about this for a long time-- running into a classmate of yours at work was just a convenient excuse to bring it up. Regardless, you couldn't help but be glad that he did.
"S-So close, Eds, m'close... please," You whimpered, feeling that knot begin to tighten deep within you, but in his concentration it would seem Eddie had barely registered your plea.
No matter, Steve was certainly paying close attention. He gently brushed your hair away from your face so that he could admire you properly before allowing his hand to travel down the length of your stomach, dipping in the space between you and Eddie so that he could toy with your clit. Mewling in pleasure, you gripping Steve's wrist with a shaking, white knuckled hand as your high crested over you-- you felt your walls pulsing around Eddie's thick cock as your cum seeped out around him.
It would seem that alone was enough to push Eddie finally over the edge. His fingertips bore deeply into your skin, pace of his thrusts faltering as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could manage and shortly thereafter, you were graced with warmth and butterflies as his hot seed flooded your cunt. The deep, broken moan that fell from his lips was unlike anything you'd ever heard from him before, primal and satisfied like he'd never had an orgasm quite like this. With stilted movements he continued to fuck his seed into you for just a moment until he was absolutely positive you'd drained him dry, and only then was he able to will himself to pull out.
"Jesus, sweetheart, you drive me crazy," He huffed, catching his breath as he reached forward with his thumb and caught a stray globe of pearly white that was threatening to slip out of you, pushing it gently back into your sensitive pussy. "Can't waste a single fuckin' drop, now can we? Not 'til you're good 'n knocked up, huh?"
"E-Eds," You whimpered, jolting beneath his touch and finding yourself unable to do much more than make grabby hands at him, craving his affection.
Flopping to the bed on the other side of you, his lips brushed over your sweaty temple as he soothed, "M'right here, princess, m'not goin' anywhere."
Steve was kind enough to allow you a moment to come back to Earth before reminding you of his presence with a soft touch to your thigh. "Are you ready to go again, sweetheart?" He asked, kind words juxtaposed by the absolute carnal hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide as he soaked in the pretty sight of Eddie's seed leaking from your cunt.
Just the sight of him hovering over you, careful hands spreading you open by your shaking thighs was more than enough to reignite the flame in your core, bringing a renewed wave of need. You nodded lazily, reaching for his hand.
Steve laced his fingers in yours. "Use your words, princess."
"I-I'm ready, Stevie," You sighed with a sweet smile, your hips working off of a mind of their own as you bucked gently toward him. "Want your cum... n-need it so bad..."
You almost could have sworn you saw his eyes roll back into his head in pure bliss at the sound of those words leaving your lips. In no need of any further convincing, Steve softly kneaded your quivering thigh in his large hand before taking his woefully hard cock in the other, lining himself up with your entrance in a way which took special care to push any stray seed of Eddie's back into you. Your head fell back with a quiet whine, already sensitive from having came already, but equally so your mouth was watering and you could hardly think coherently through the thick fog of need that clouded your fucked out brain.
Steve drove into you as carefully as he could manage in his eagerness, cognizant of your sensitivity but all too anxious to give it all to you. As he bottomed out inside of your slick cunt his eyes screwed shut, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of your cum-soaked walls pulling him in.
He groaned deeply, hips snapping impatiently forward. "S-Six..." He muttered, perhaps to himself, but the utterance did not go unnoticed by you or Eddie.
"Huh?" You mewled, squeezing his hand as you rocked on the bed. "Stevie?"
"Six," He said more clearly now. "I've always wanted six... six cute little terrors, and you're gonna be their mama, huh?"
"Six?" You gasped, but were quickly subdued by the pleasure of his thick cock rutting deeply inside of you, threatening closer to your cervix.
Eddie chuckled. "We could handle it. I mean, we've had plenty of practice."
Now it was you squeezing your eyes shut, head lazily shaking back and forth on the mattress. "Uh-uh," You moaned. "T-That's... s'too many..."
"Jus' think about it," Steve grinned. "Three boys, three girls. Toy cars and princess tea parties, road trips in Eddie's van..."
"S'too much," You slurred, though at this point neither Steve nor Eddie could tell if you were still referring to the six kids thing or if you were just getting overstimulated. They silently figured both were possibly true.
Eddie smoothed your hair away from your forehead. "Doin' so well for us, princess. Just a little longer, m'kay? Stevie's gonna take good care of you."
Tears pricked at your eyes as your second high of the night continued approaching all too quickly. Every last movement Steve made pushed you closer and closer to the edge, beckoning you to finish once more, and it felt so horrifically good that it almost hurt. You could hardly think straight, unintelligible moans tumbling from your lips as you squeezed Steve's hand like he'd disappear if you let go.
"Don't fight it," Steve said breathlessly, squeezing your hand in return as an acknowledgement of your inability to speak up. "Just cum for me, honey, just let go and cum for me..."
His words alone sent shivers down the length of you that glittered and bloomed at the base of your spine and brought your legs together, inadvertently pulling him deeper into you as you cried out and gushed over his hard cock. Your whole body shaking, you hardly even noticed that your free hand was reaching for Eddie's.
"Aww... you're okay, you're alright," Eddie cooed, taking your hand while Steve continued to rut into you, though it was evident he wasn't far from his end, either. "You still with us, pumpkin?" Eddie checked in.
It took you a second to fully process what he'd asked of you, but once you did, you nodded hazily.
"That's my girl, all fucked out and dumb," He praised. "Aren't you just the cutest, hm?"
Eddie brought your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles, and when you pulled his hand towards yourself he expected you would return the affection-- instead, you took his thick middle and ring fingers into your mouth as if to pacify yourself.
He nearly came again at that motion alone.
Steve, who watched this exchange occur with lust-blown eyes, drove into your cunt hard, white knuckling your hips as his jaw dropped in a jagged moan and he emptied his seed as deeply inside you as he could physically manage. For a moment he couldn't bring himself to pull out, rocking into you just a few more gentle times as if to fuck it further in. You were a quivering, whining mess at the hand of his ministrations.
Once he had properly descended back to Earth from his high, Steve leaned down to kiss the blushing bridge of your nose, and then Eddie's ringed knuckles that rested just before your lips. You blinked absently, tears bubbling in your lashes, but even so you couldn't help but smile at how sweet they could be in the aftermath of acts that would reasonably deny you entry into heaven.
"You're so good for us, sweetheart," Steve mused, steadying you by your waist as he unsheathed himself from you, slowly so as not to waste any of their seed. "I can't wait for us to have our own family."
You sucked softly at Eddie's fingers, gazing up at Steve with hazy doe eyes that wordlessly pleaded for him to join you on the bed. Typically he would make you say what you wanted out loud, but neither of them felt the need to bother tonight. After all, you were gifting them something they couldn't get from anyone else, something they only wanted from you.
Catching his breath, Steve brushed his hair away from his face and laid on the other side of you, drawing your shaking body into his warm chest. Eddie scratched your back lovingly as Steve played with your soft hair.
A few moments of comfortable silence passed while you all regained proper consciousness, but that silence was broken by Eddie.
"I hope it’s a boy.”
"A boy?" You gasped, turning over your shoulder to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Like there aren't enough of you already?"
#venustext#sintext#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader#steddie smut#steve harrington smut#eddie munson smut
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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f! reader
Description: Sam's nightmare leads the group to Saginaw Michigan. But it's more than a nightmare and it's more than any ol' hunt. Things are revealed about the past as it sends them barreling into the future.
Warnings: Cannon violence, I might have gotten a little too carried away with the beginning scene sorry not sorry! flirtation, banter, mentions of su!cide, gore, mentions of child abuse, mentions of past abuse, guns, a roller coaster of emotions, and a lot of angst (no one can be happy...sorry!)
Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara
Word Count: 9,912
Nightmare
(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)
I turn over in my bed, burying my head deeper into the pillows to ignore the loud and insistent banging from my door. I mumble incoherently into the covers, sleep having its claws so deep into my brain. “Please open the door, sweetheart. ‘m tryna give you privacy here but if this door isn’t open in five seconds I’m gonna use my key,” Dean warns loudly, his voice raspy. I hum softly into the bedding but make no move to get up, instead snuggling deeper into the blankets. The remains of sleep creep into the corners of my mind, hazing the rest of my brain.
Suddenly a gentle calloused hand is on my bare shoulder, “Come on baby, as much as I wanna let you sleep Sammy needs us to hurry.”
“Mhm,” I hum halfheartedly, digging myself further into the bed if possible. “Alright that’s it,” he says finally. There's some shuffling before the covers are pulled back, a rush of cold air prickling my exposed legs followed by the warmth of his hands dragging up and down my calves slowly before leaving to pull down my slip nightgown further past my butt. That wakes me up. My eyes flutter open, and as much as I loved my little cotton nightgown every time I wore it to bed I woke up to a full tit out and the bottom up at my hips. Luckily this time I didn’t think it rode up so high, it had only felt like it was just barely covering my butt, so at the most, he saw a flash of my underwear which is not the most ideal thing to happen, and also insanely embarrassing but at least I was wearing one of my cute pairs. And at least he didn’t comment on it, except he did pull it down further which means he probably did see…oh god.
“Okay! I’m awake Dean!” I say, my words half mumbled by the bed but if I turned over he would also be seeing a boob today and he had seen enough already. His hands grip my ankles, his thumbs rubbing my skin, oh lord. No. I have to focus…and not on how butterflies are erupting in my stomach, fluttering around frantically, “Not convinced baby, not until I see you get up,” he conceded. He was really playing with my resolve and it was a very fickle thing to begin with.
“Yeah, so if I flip myself around you’d be getting flashed. These nightgowns…just you know…” I admit, my face warm for two different reasons. His thumbs pause and I can practically hear the arch of his brow and that devilish smirk, “By all means, continue…”
“Dean,” I warn.
“I really wouldn’t object to it, wouldn’t complain one bit,” he comments, his voice dripping with amusement. “Dean!” His hands leave me entirely and I suddenly miss the warmth he brought, “Alright, alright,” he gives in, “I’ll go, be waitin’ in the car. I’d hurry though Sam’s freaking out about needing to leave but won't say anythin’ more.”
The initial embarrassment of being woken up the way I was or at least the result of that, as well as being a little “late” had long worn off except for when Dean caught my eyes in the rearview mirror then it all came rushing back. But I needed to screw my head on right, and not get distracted by his playful teasing manner, he was most likely compensating for the fact that he had to say goodbye to the woman he loved again. Ending on good terms aside those feelings don’t just magically disappear especially when it only happened recently. Either way, I was thankful for the nightfall's darkness, because with each gaze my face heated up even if it was against my better judgment.
I needed to focus.
Sam had his ear pressed into his phone, reading from a fake ID to potentially give real information, “McReady. Detective McReady, badge number 158. I’ve got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven…Yeah okay, just hurry.”
Dean glances over at his brother, concern written in his eyes, “Sammy relax. I’m sure it’s just a nightmare.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam remarks.
“You know considering he was right about your old house I’m pretty much convinced he’s right about this one too,” I add. Dean adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, “It could also just be a dream. Y’know, a normal everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won’t check out. You’ll see,” Dean tries to reason though I can't understand why he won’t accept that Sam has been right before and will be right again, my only guess would be fear.
“I mean I suppose,” I shrug, “but even just logically speaking unless you’re lucid dreaming you can’t read in your sleep, as the part of your brain that’s responsible for logic and intellect shuts down. So following that logic, he wouldn’t have been able to read or understand that license plate, that fact must hold some merit here.”
“Alright, maybe he was lucid dreamin’ then,” Dean suggests instead, finding any reason for his brother not to be a psychic.
“It felt different Dean. Real,” Sam shakes his head, eyes focused as he tries to explain, “Like when I dreamt about the old house and Jessica.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. You’re dreaming about our house, your girlfriend,” Dean points out, “This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?”
“No,” Sam responds.
“It doesn't matter if you've actually seen someone they can still be in your dreams because when you're walking around you're subconsciously watching and cataloging them,” I explain, “Though of course you're most likely to have dreams about people you see or think about more often, but still people you pass in real life can be in your dream.” Dean catches my eyes again in the mirror, gazing at me questioningly, “Why do you know so much about dreams?”
I shrug, “I don't know, it’s interesting so I just go down a rabbit hole of information. Plus there are a lot of psychological aspects to dreams which can make them important to analysis.” Dean shakes his head as if shaking away the information, “So why would he have premonitions about some random dude from Michigan.”
I rub my eyes, tiredness still trying to cling to me to the point of my eyes aching, “Yeah I don’t have an answer to that one.” Dean turns his gaze to his brother, silently asking him the same question, “I don’t know,” he answers. “Me neither,” Dean shrugs with one shoulder though it was more done to prove his point.
“Yes I’m here,” Sam says suddenly, pressing the phone closer to his ear. He goes silent, listening, then throws a glare at Dean and picks up his pen, “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. ‘You have a street address?… Got it. Thanks.” He moves his phone away from him, clicking a button, most likely hanging up, “Checks out. How far are we?”
“From Saginaw? Coupla hours,” Dean answers.
“Drive faster.”
The Impala cruises to a stop, Emergency vehicles lined up followed by two medical examiners pushing a stretcher with a body bag on it just being zippered. We were late and it was hard to know whether it was by a couple of minutes or hours, but it didn’t matter because we were late and someone was dead.
We approach the crowd, a couple of neighbors dressed in their pajamas and a coat watching the scene from behind a line of caution tape. “What happened?” Dean asks a nearby woman.
“Suicide,” she answers, “Can’t believe it.”
“Did you know them?” Sam questions, moving to the woman’s other side.
She frowns, “‘Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine’s,” she replies, oversharing to a couple of strangers but it was helpful so there was no way we would tell her to stop, “He always seems…seemed so normal. I guess you never know what’s going on behind closed doors.”
“Guess not,” Dean acknowledges, looking straight ahead.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say softly, maybe she didn’t know the guy so well but seeing him weekly still meant something. She nods in thanks.
“How did…uhh” Sam stammers, “How are they saying it happened?” It was a total conversation turn but once more it was necessary. “I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running,” she answers. Carbon dioxide poisoning from a car makes it hard for it to be an accident so of course the initial thought would be suicide and I doubt it would be easy to prove otherwise with a death like that.
“Do you know about what time they found him,” Sam pushes and I hope she doesn’t think we’re being weird about this and asking a little too many questions. “Oh, ‘just happened about an hour or two ago,” she says. Frick, frick that wasn’t long ago at all. “His poor family,” she continues, “I can’t even imagine what they’re going through.” I follow her gaze to a woman standing on the front steps crying against a middle-aged man. A young distraught man stands behind them. I could imagine what they were feeling and it was horrible. Grief was not pretty and those feelings were even uglier, leaving a permanent mark on your heart.
Someone tugs on my sweatshirt sleeve, I follow the motion watching Dean walk away following his brother who had stormed away. I follow them, making the quick walk to the Impala.
“Sam we got here as fast as we could,” Dean reasons.
“Not fast enough,” Sam shakes his head, a pained look painted on his face, “It doesn’t make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn’t a chance I could stop them from happening.”
I bit my lips, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Maybe it wasn’t about him exactly, like maybe it’s bigger than that. Sometimes that happens, remember what I said about oneiromancy or using dreams to predict the future? Well sometimes it’s not so literal, sometimes it serves as a warning or pointing you in a specific direction for whatever reason. Now I know your whole thing is different and more detailed than that but do you get what I mean?”
He nods, clearly thinking it over. “I don’t know though, I’m no expert but I’m just tryna say to keep it in mind,” I add. He shakes his head and sighs, “So what do you think killed him?”
“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” Dean suggests, “Maybe there’s nothing supernatural going on at all.”
“Then why would he have such a vivid dream of just some random dude dying?” I point out, immediately realizing my contradiction. “I dunno,” Dean shrugs, “Maybe it’s like you said, it’s pointing to somethin’ else.”
“I watched it happen. He was murdered by something. I watched it trap him in the garage,” Sam explains.
“What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?” Dean asks in rapid succession. Sam huffs, “I don’t know what it was. I don’t know why I’m having these dreams, I don’t know what the hell is happening!” He was freaking out, totally and utterly freaking out and he had every right to be. “It’s alright Sam,” I say softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. ‘No matter how long it takes.”
He sighs, mumbling a “Thanks.” I couldn't imagine what he was feeling, I always knew who I was even if nobody else did. To know one thing your whole life just to be thrown onto a totally new path with no explanation must be terrifying. “What,” Sam says suddenly throwing a look at his brother who was just staring at him. Dean shrugs, “Nothing. I’m just, I’m worried about you man,” he confesses.
“Well don’t look at me like that!” Sam yells. Dean looks away, “I’m not looking at you like anything,” he retorts, glancing back, “Though I gotta say, you do look like crap.”
“Dean. Really?” I say.
“Nice. Thanks,” Sam replies, pursing his lips. With a small smile, Dean moves to the driver's side of the car, pulling the door open, “Come on, let’s just pick this up in the morning. We’ll check out the house, talk to the family.”
“Dean, you saw them, they’re devastated. They’re not going to want to talk to us,” Sam reasons. Dean pauses in thought, “Yeah, you’re right. But I think I know who they will talk to.”
I scoff, “Who?”
I pull open my motel door, the sun shining brightly behind the man in front of me highlighting his stunning green eyes. His arms are hidden behind his back, “What do you have there?” I ask, squinting at him suspiciously. “Oh, just a little somethin’” he smirks devilishly, gazing down at me.
“You’re scaring me,” I admit, “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be,” he grins revealing what he was hiding. He holds up a rectangular Halloween costume bag, the classic orange logo on the top, and a blonde woman in a nun costume holding a ruler on the other side. I look between him and the bag his smile never leaving his face a mischievous sparkle in his eye, “Sam and I are going as Preiests so we need our nun,” he explains.
“Tell me you're joking,” I say blankly, my face falling.
“Not at all sweetheart.”
I huff a laugh, pointing at the bag, “I’m not wearing that.”
“You gotta,” he replies.
“No offense to the nuns of the world, but I would rather be shot dead than wear that.”
“‘Cause it’s not cute?” Dean asks though it comes off more like a statement as he knows my answer. “Yes,” I answer flatly, “I’m not wearing that.”
“Maybe I shoulda picked up the slutty one,” he retorts, thinking he got me there. I cross my arms across my chest, wetting my lips, “You should’ve, ‘be good for Halloween,” I counter. Checkmate. He drags his eyes across my frame. my face heats up, “While I’d love to see to that, Halloween is months away and you’re being ridiculous.”
“Still not wearing it,” I say as sternly as I can manage, which isn’t very considering my mind trying to compute what he said. “Come on,” he grumbles, “what am I gonn’ do with a nun costume now?” He pushes past me, stepping deeper into the room. I close the door, turning around, “I don't know, return it? Or use it for one of your one-night stands, I’m sure you’ll find someone kinky enough.”
He looks at me blankly, deadpanning, “You’re wearing it.”
“No”
“Yes”
“No”
“Yes”
“I’ll just sit this one out, wait in the car or something ‘till you’re done,” I say.
“You’re wearing it,” he repeats.
“No”
“Yes”
“You’re not winning this one!” I throw my hands up.
“Y/N come on!”
“No!”
He groans, annoyed, “If you wear it I’ll buy you whatever book you want.”
Oh. I mean it’s only a couple of minutes of embarrassment and ugly clothing, “Okay, deal. Fine.” His wide grin returns, he throws the bag at me and I catch it, looking down at it with disgust. “‘Not gonna bite sweetheart,” Dean says as he heads out.
“Yeah, but I might,” I mumble.
I fixed the Coif on my head for the hundredth time, I should’ve put more bobby pins in my hair. God. How did Nuns wear these? It just digs into your scalp and the most hair you could show was just the very top, probably about three inches, the rest of your hair was hidden along with your ears. It was the least cute or sexy thing to ever exist, faces were not being framed.
“Quit poutin’, you're supposed to be a Nun, be happy,” Dean comments as he rounds the car.
“I look like I'm going to burn myself at the stake,” I huff.
Sam laughs, having to bite back the noise. “You look fine,” Dean says. I look down at myself, the long black dress covering everything down at my ankles and a strange-looking white squared bib thing around my neck, “Who are you lying to right now!”
Dean huffs frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“At least you guys look good, like really good,” I say maybe a little too honestly. Sam had his hair all jelled back in a cute little hairdo, he was quite adorable. And on the other side, it really must have been the all-black attire, forget about the clerical cuff and that damn silver ring on his finger that made Dean look so good. Otherwise, there was something deeply wrong with me and I’d have to reevaluate my life, ‘cause there should be no reason for a “Priest” to look so damn fine. Lord, I need help.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Dean declares. He leads the way crossing the street and walking right up the porch, he rings the doorbell that silver ring glinting in the light. Sam sighs, “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”
“Amen,” I mumble.
The door opens slowly and I throw away my pout replacing it with a kind smile. The older man from yesterday stands at the door, blocking our view of the rest of the house. Now that it wasn’t dark out and I was far closer, I was able to take note of him: a round-faced man with dark eyebrows and a sort of buzzcut.“Good afternoon,” Dean starts, “I’m Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and this is Sister Kathern We’re new junior priests over at St Augustine's. May we come in?”
The man nods, stepping aside. “Thanks,” Dean says entering first. I give the man a polite nod, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”
“It’s in difficult times like these when the Lord’s guidance is most needed,” Dean adds.
“Look, you wanna pitch your whole ‘Lord has a plan’ thing? Fine. Just don’t pitch it to me. My brother’s dead,” the man spits, his face wobbling with choked emotion. An older blonde woman appears, her soft hair only reaching her shoulders, her eyes etched in sadness, “Roger. Please!” she lectures. Roger moves away, escaping to some other part of the house, “Excuse me.”
“I’m sorry about my brother-in-law. He’s…he’s just so upset about Jim’s death,” she explains.
“You don’t have to apologize, we completely understand. Everyone grieves differently,” I say sincerely. Her eyes soften, a sad smile on her face, “Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be great,” Dean answers.
****
I sit next to Sam on the loveseat, Dean beside him in an armchair. Ms. Miller pours coffee gently into a couple of little white mugs, she hands one to each of us, “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”
“Of course. After all, we are all God’s children,” Dean replies smoothly, taking a sip of the black coffee. She stands up taking the coffee pot with her. Dean takes that opportunity to shove a bunch of cocktail sausages into his mouth, he was really taking advantage of her leaving food out on a little platter. “What?” he asks with a mouthful of food, responding to his brothers staring. “Just…tone it down a little bit, Father,” he responds.
Ms. Miller returns then, emptyhanded, she sits back down. Dean swallows his mouth full of food before talking again, “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”
“Nothing like that,” she answers her eyes already tearing up, “We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy,” the tears run rapidly down her face, “I just don’t understand…how Jim could do something like this.”
“I’m so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam replies sincerely. She wipes her tear-stained face, gesturing behind her, “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”
“Do you mind if maybe, I go talk to him?” Sam asks.
“Oh thank you, Father,” she musters a sad smile. He rises, following the direction she pointed.
“Ms.Miller you have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?” Dean inquires.
“We moved in about five years ago,” she answers.
“The only problem with these old homes, ‘bet it gives you all kinds of headaches,” he comments. Her face washes over in confusion, “Like what?”
“Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night,” he lists, “That kind of thing.”
She shakes her head, “No, nothing like that. It’s been perfect.”
“Huh,” Dean hums, “May I use your restroom?”
“Oh sure, it’s just up the stairs,” she says. He nods, rising and taking another cocktail sausage before leaving. Now I was left to fend for myself in a social situation I wasn't totally prepared for. What do I say? “Is there anything I could do for you that might make you feel better? I understand how hard it is now.”
She tears up again, “I don’t know.” I lean over placing a gentle hand on her arm, “It’s okay…it’s okay," I say softly.
I enter the boy's motel room, following Sam. We had just come back from researching about the Miller’s house. I close and lock the door behind me, so grateful that I had been out of that nun outfit for more than an hour. “What do you have?” Dean asks, his entire arsenal spread out around him as he sits on the edge of the bed cleaning a gun. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he works the weapons, I have to force my gaze away. Men should not be allowed to look good doing random tasks, it wasn’t fair.
“A whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built,” Sam answers sinking onto his bed.
“What about the land?” Dean questions further.
“Nope,” I say, “There were no battles or graveyards, it’s not tribal land and no kind of atrocities happened on or near the property.”
“Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfer scent. Nada,” Dean adds.
“And the family said everything was normal?” Sam checks.
“Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used the inferred thermal scanner man, and there was nothing,” Dean answers.
I sigh moving to sit at the end of Sam's bed, “Back to square one.”
“So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?” Sam questions.
“I dunno,” Dean answers truthfully, “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing supernatural about that house.”
Sam gets a pained look in his eyes, bringing his hand up to rub his temples, “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house,” he inhales sharply holding his head, “Maybe it’s just…Gosh,” he clutches his head, “... Maybe its connected to Jim in some other way?”
“Sammy you okay?” I ask, placing a careful hand on his bicep just as Dean says, “What’s wrong with you?” I throw him a sharp glare, way to word it. Sam makes strained pained noises, sinking to the floor, “My head.”
Dean practically jumps from his bed, “Sam? Hey,” he sinks right next to his brother in a crouch grabbing Sam’s arms, “Hey! What’s going on? Talk to me.”
I stand up concern running through my blood, “Sam! Come on!” I've never seen something like this before, it was completely foreign which only made it more terrifying. Dean throws a pleading look at me and I stand not knowing what to do, “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry.” He turns back to his brother, not saying anything as he holds on to him.
Then, Sam slowly removes his hands from his head, focusing back on reality as he warns, “It’s happening again. Something’s gunna kill Roger Miller.”
My leg bounces in the back seat. once more we were running against an invisible and unknown clock, running to save someone with little to no information given. And once more Sams is on the phone trying to get information quickly that will help us, “Roger Miller. Uh no no, just the address, please. Ok, thanks.” He goes quiet with the information before hanging up and reciting it, “450 West Grove, Apartment 1120.”
“You ok?” Dean asks, eyeing his brother in quick succession.
“Yeah,” he answers in the least convincing tone possible.
“If you’re gunna hurl I’ll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery…” Dean says, not really joking.
“I’m fine,” Sam answers still not convincingly enough.
“Alright,” Dean shrugs, dropping it.
“Just drive,” he says, looking away. He sighs, “Look, I’m scared, alright? These nightmares weren’t bad enough, now I’m seeing things when I’m awake? And it’s painful.”
“Come on man, you’ll be all right. It’ll be fine,” Dean comforts in his own way. I wet my lips, choosing my words carefully, “Whatever these abilities are, they’re advancing which is why it’s breaching into day. And because it's leaning more toward psychic abilities it takes a great amount of will, and concentration, and puts a horrible strain on your mind which is why it's painful. But the more you work on it the better it’ll be.”
He turns around in the passenger seat, facing me, “You have telekinesis, right?” I nod, his eyebrows scrunch together, “It hurt when you were first started?”
“God, yes,” I laugh bittersweet, “It just requires so much focus, more so at first, that I had headaches constantly. I tried not to use too much Advil, but they were definitely making a profit off of me, that’s for sure.” He seems to consider the information, turning back in his seat, “Then what is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?!”
“I don’t know Sam but we’ll figure it out,” Dean answers, “We’ve faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing.”
Sam shakes his head, “No. It’s never been us. It’s never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can’t tell me this doesn’t freak you out, Dean.”
Dean looks straight out the windshield silently, he couldn’t lie because Sam and I both witnessed him freak out before over it. Of course, then we’d all been younger, and he lashed out at me and when he left he hadn’t talked to me or apologized for months, I think it was about five. These sorts of things do freak him out, and sometimes I think the things I’m capable of doing still scare him sometimes, and that's just with someone he's friends with. With his brother, that fear must be a million times worse. “This doesn’t freak me out,” he finally says, lying.
****
The Impala pulls up across the street from Roger, who approaches his apartment's entrance with a bag of groceries in his hands. Sam rolls down the window swiftly yelling for the man, “Hey Roger.” The man turns around, the annoyance on his face clear as day, “What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone.”
I lean over rolling down the window opposite of where I sit, “Sir this has nothing to do with religion! Trust me.”
“Please,” Sam adds. But Roger is already gone, walking closer to his building. Suddenly the car jerks into motion the engine gunning as it makes a quick turn around, and with a bump Dean jumps the curve hurriedly parking as Sam jumps out running after the man, “Hey. Roger. We’re trying to help! Please! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.”
I get out of the vehicle, round the black car, and head to Sam’s side, Dean following. As Sam reaches the entrance, Roger closes the door behind him, “I don’t want your help.” He walks deeper into the building and in a last-ditch effort Sam yells, “We’re not priests or nuns, you gotta listen to us!”
“Roger, you’re in danger!” Dean yells after him. But of course he doesn't hear them or if he does he just ignores the warnings. God people are so stubborn. “Come on,” Dean suddenly says looking towards a back entrance, he leads the way as we run around the corner of the building to the back entrance, a door in the way. With a quick look around Dean steps back and kicks it open, the door bursts open with a crack.
Sam jumps for the bottom ladder of the fire escape, using his tall frame to easily reach it, he pulls himself up and starts running for the stairs. Dean turns to me offering me a cupped hand, “You comin’?” he asks. I shake my head, pushing strands of hair behind my ear, “No you go, there isn't enough room for the three of us on that thing, you go. I’ll keep watch. He needs you.”
He looks me over, before nodding and jumping for the ladder, catching up to his brother swiftly. Against my better judgment instead of keeping watch, I look up at them, a hand blocking the sun as they make it up to the second floor. Then all of a sudden there's a heavy squeak and slide of a window followed by a wet squelching noise. Sam freezes, Dean sprints past him and stops looking down at something I can’t see from down here but even so, I know it is Roger’s severed head.
****
“I’m telling you there was nothing there. No signs either, just like the Miller’s house,” Dean informs, once more the three of us in the car this time driving back to the motel. Sam squints his eyes, slightly, in focus, “I saw something, in the vision, Like a dark shape. Something was…something was stalking Roger.”
“Whatever it was, are you sure it’s not connected to their house?” Dean asks, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.
“You know that argument doesn't really hold up anymore considering Roger died in his apartment,” I answer fidgeting with my fingers, “So it could be the family itself.”
“So you think, like a vengeful spirit?” Sam questions.
“Well yeah,” Dean responds, “There’s a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years.”
“Angiak. Banshees,” Sam lists out examples.
“Wouldn’t you have still picked up on something when you were snooping around?” I ask this time, looking up from my hands. “No, I was thinking somethin’ more like a curse,” Dean explains, “Maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse-worthy.”
Sam hums, adding to the working theory, “And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying…Hey, you think Max is danger?”
“Let’s figure it out before he is,” Dean remarks. Sam sighs, “Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people.”
“What’s that?” Dean asks.
“Both our families are cursed,” Sam says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I frown, one because he feels that way and two because I dislike when people say that. Dean huffs, “Our family’s not cursed! We just…had our dark spots…”
“Our dark spots are…pretty dark,” Sam nods slowly. Dean eyes him, “You’re….dark.”
I scuff, “Well as dark as it was you don’t have to worry, curses aren’t real.”
Sam turns around in his seat, facing me, “You’re a witch and you don’t believe in curses?”
I tilt my head giving him a ‘really?’ look, “That’s not what I meant, of course those kinds of curses exist they are very real and palpable things,” I wet my lips, “What I meant is that this curse you suggest to be the reason why you suffered misfortune isn’t real and that goes for everybody. Bad things just happen. And I know you probably weren’t being too literal but still blaming bad things on curses doesn’t help you in the long run it just serves as an excuse for you not to face your problems and acknowledge the real issue.”
Sam looks at me with slightly wide eyes and when I look at Dean, his expression is more or less the same if not even more, “What?” I ask eyeing the two of them. Sam turns back around in his seat a small smirk on his face, Dean gives a little shrug, “Nothin’, just someone’s using their psychology degree.”
I snort, suddenly getting shy, “Shut up,” I mumble. The thing was I wasn’t using my psychology degree this was just me, not that I was embarrassed by my degree. I took education very seriously, especially college. So of course I wound up double majoring, one in criminal justice and the other in psychology, but could you blame a girl? Either way, I didn't like when people said things like that, blaming something on a force they didn’t understand and had no real play in any of it.
I pull down the sleeves of the black Nun dress, readjusting the material, “I hope you know this is another book,” I say closing the car door behind me. Dean seems to round the Impala quicker at that, “What?! No, that wasn’t part of the deal.”
I purse my lips, “Yes, but when we made that deal it was under the presumption that it would only happen once in this case. And yet, here we are again.”
Dean opens his mouth to say something more but his brother cuts him off, “Wait, you guys made a deal?”
I smile triumphantly, “Yup!”
Sam frowns a little pout to his lips, his puppy-dog eyes turned down, “Man,” he whines, “I should’ve made a deal.”
“You should’ve,” I respond, thinking for a moment, “You know what? I will extend my second book to you, you are now included!”
He shakes his head, “No Y/N it's okay, have your books.”
Now I shake my head, “No no I want to, nothing would bring me more joy than the three of us going to a bookstore, and while Dean impatiently waits for us and grumbles to himself we get to wreak havoc and choose books!” Sam smiles with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “That does sound like a good idea.”
“You’re an evil woman,” Dean grumbles.
I smile sweetly at him, “I prefer ‘wicked’ but I guess that’s close enough.”
He eyes me for a beat, tongue against cheek as if he is contemplating saying something but ultimately he looks away, “We’re meant to be checking in on Max.”
Oh, “Yeah,” I say leading the way. “See, this always happens,” he states, reaching my side in one stride.
“What happens?” Sam asks.
“Whenever you two are together we get nothing done,” he elaborates. I fake a hurt gasp, “That’s so not true!” I mean we could be annoying, sure, but that was our whole job especially since we’re younger siblings it’s just how it works.
We reach the door and he knocks before anyone can say anything more on the topic. Instead of Ms. Miller answering the door her son, Max, does. He opens the door wider, “My Mom’s resting, she’s pretty wrecked.”
“Of course,” Dean nods, stepping deeper into the house.
“All these people kept coming with like, casseroles?” Max says, making small talk, “I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know 'cause nothing says I’m sorry like a tuna casserole.” I bite back my laugh, very poorly, he caught it giving a smile back to me and Sam who was also grinning at the joke. Max gestures to the seating area his mom put us just earlier today, and just like then we all take the same seats, but this time it's Max in front of us.
A beat of silence goes on before Sam sighs, speaking softly he asks, “How ‘you holding up?”
His face drops a little, answering with a small, “Ok.”
“You’re Dad and your uncle were close,” Sam follows up, stating instead of asking.
He shrugs, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.”
“But not much lately?” Sam asks.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” he shifts in his seat, “We used to be neighbors when I was a kid before we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”
“Right. So how was it in that house when you were a kid?” Sam questions further.
“It was fine. Why?” Max answers, dismissively. He was uncomfortable, something about that old house made him uneasy.
“All good memories? Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?” Dean asks this time, skepticism written in his voice. Max shakes his head, slight panic crawling in his irises, “What do yo…..why do you ask?”
I recognized that panic. Knew it well. I remember wearing it, how it crawled over my skin. “Don’t worry it’s just a question,” I nod, noting his behavior.
“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy,” he replies suddenly more sure of his answer.
“Good. That’s good,” Dean answers, “Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off.”
Catching on Sam nods, “Right,” he looks back at Max, “thanks.”
Max eyes us, something between panic and questioning, “Yeah.”
****
We make it to the Imapla before debriefing, the panic in his eyes burning into my retinas.
“No one’s family is totally normal and happy,” Dean starts, pointing out the faults of Max’s response, “See when he was talking about his old house?”
“He sounded scared,” Sam answers sadly.
A chill runs up my spine, “More than that, he was petrified. And I don’t think it has anything to do with the house…”
“Yeah, Max isn’t telling us everything,” Dean agrees, “I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers.”
I shift my footing, fixing my pants (which I was glad to be in again) as I watch the older man named Rob in front of us. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Sam asks him.
“Yeah, almost 20 years now. It’s nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy,” he answers and I can’t tell if he wants us to be interested or wishes to keep out outsiders. Maybe the earlier, he seems kind.
“No, no,” Sam smiles, “Actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”
“Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” Dean adds.
“Yeah I remember,” he responds, “The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what’s this about, is that poor kid ok?” That makes me stumble over my thoughts, “He….um, I’m sorry why did you word it like that?”
Rob frowns, “Well in my life I’ve never seen a child treated like that. I mean I’d hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk.” My skin curls up, my fears confirmed. My heart recoils, cowering away from the information and the thoughts. “He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of,” Rob continued.
I take a subconscious step backward. I don’t understand, if he knew why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t he call the police?
“This was going on regularly?” Sam asks, his voice firm.
“Practically every day. In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the sepmother. She’d just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”
I suddenly feel nauseous. He was finally free now but that was too many years too late.
“Now you said stepmother,” Dean says for confirmation. How could he not be reacting to this information?
“I think his real mother died. Some sorta…accident. Car accident I think,” Rob answers.
Suddenly Sam clutches his head again, grimacing. Rob looks at him strangely, “Are you okay there?”
He winces, “Uh, yeah.” Dean holds the crook of his brother's arm, leading him away as he throws back a “Thanks for your time.”
I blink out of what feels like a daze, mustering a smile for the man, “Have a nice day,” I say before catching up to the boys. But my feet feel heavy, as if cylinder blocks had been tied to my ankles. My intestines seem to twist itself into a knot, wrapped around like a bow. I clutch my shirt where my stomach is, my heart seems to beat faster an unnerving feeling settling itself into the vessels. I could hardly focus on my tense body and anxious thoughts when Sam’s head lulls back, his eyes doing that thing where you can tell he isn’t here with us right now. He’s somewhere else, having a vision.
****
I want to curl into myself and shy away from the current case. But we were in the Impala driving back to the Millers house and Sam still had to tell us about his vision. “Max is doing it. Everything I’ve been seeing,” Sam reveals. I should be surprised but I’m not, maybe it’s because of the newfound information.
“You sure about this?” Dean asks, almost skeptical.
“Yeah, I saw him,” he confirms.
“How is he doing it?” I ask carefully.
“I think telekinesis,” Sam answers.
“What so he’s psychic?” Dean questions, definitely skeptical.
“I didn’t even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died,” Sam elaborates, “These visions, this whole time–I wasn’t connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess—because we’re so alike?”
“What are you talking about? The dude’s nothing like you,” Dean responds firmly.
“Well,” Sam tries to reason, “We both have psychic abilities, we both…”
“Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third,” Dean exclaims. This was all getting very complicated very fast. “He’s not a monster he’s a kid. It isn’t his fault, he’s a product of his messed up childhood,” I defend, my voice filled with perhaps a little too much emotion.
“With what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I’m sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane,” Sam adds, agreeing. I nod vigorously, it isn’t insane, not one bit.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family!” Dean yells, his voice louder than needed.
“No of course not. But clearly, no one else was caring about him. No one made any effort to help him, not even the police! So you must understand why he felt like he needed to take justice into his own hands,” I argue. This was complicated, this was human. And humans, human feelings get messy very quickly.
“You're suggesting he's a necessary evil?” Dean counters, his voice gruff and on edge.
“Maybe, yeah,” I answer, crossing my arms across my chest. The car jerked right, driving up to the curb in front of the Miller’s house. “He’s no different from anything else we’ve hunted, all right? We gotta end him,” Dean lectured.
“We’re not going to kill Max,” Sam and I say at the same time, our voices overlapping. “He’s a kid!” I add.
“Then what?” Dean counters, “Hand him over to the cops and say ‘Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind.’”
I huff, “That’s not the point and you know it. We can talk him down, he isn’t a monster and I highly doubt he would kill just for fun. He’s angry and he’s hurt, he needs help. If we do that then we are just as bad as his uncle and his dad and the cops that refused to help.”
He shuts the engine off, pursing his lips and shaking his head, “All right fine. But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else.” Yet, despite his words he leans over to the glove compartment and pulls out a pistol. He glares at Sam as he gets out of the car. I catch his eyes, “Dean.” He looks at me, challenging me, before ultimately getting out and tucking the gun into the back of his pants. I roll my eyes, tongue in cheek, pissed. I get out of the car, joining the boys but not before slamming the car door behind me.
We run up the porch, Sam in the lead. He knocks on the door, and when no response comes he leans over the railing peeking in the window. He looks back at us and he does not have to say anything for us to know what was happening. Max was going to kill his Stepmother.
Without thinking any further, Dean raises his leg to kick the door in. I stop him, “Dude way to be inconspicuous. Let me.” He backs up a few steps, hands raised in defeat. I grasp the cold knob of the door, not needing to put much effort into getting the door unlocked. We rush into the kitchen, where Sam said Max would do it. Ms. Miller presses her back closer against the counters, her eyes wide and filled with tears and fear as she watches her son in front of her. Her eyes snap to us, “Fathers? Sister?” Ironically enough, we weren’t dressed up instead in normal clothes which I wasn’t sure if priests and nuns ever did. Max spins around, poorly concealing the large knife behind his back, his hair is a mess and his eyes match his stepmothers in fear after all he was caught. “What are you doing here?” he asks, afraid.
“Uhh, sorry to interrupt,” Dean answers awkwardly.
“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam leads, fumbling for an excuse. He eyes us, he doesn’t trust us, “About what?”
“It’s….it’s private. I wouldn’t want to bother your mother with it,” Sam lies, “We won’t be long at all though, I promise” he says directing it to Ms.Miller. Max looks back at his stepmom and then at us, “Ok.”
“Great,” Sam smiles.
We turn to leave, making it out of the kitchen and to the front door. Dean takes the lead with his hand grasping the doorknob, pulling it open he smiles back at Max awkwardly. Then all of a sudden the doorknob is pulled from his grasp and the door slams shut, followed by the dropping of all the blinds for each window. Impressive. I turn around swiftly watching Max as he backs up, “You’re not priests! Or a nun,” he yells.
Dean draws his gun quickly, but without even moving a muscle Max uses his powers to pull the gun away, it slides across the floor and he crouches down to take it. He stands up tall, pointing the gun at us. Dean nudges me slightly behind him, I want to shove my way in front of him but he holds his arm out in front of me and I don’t feel the need to argue now of all times. Ms.Miller appears in the archway between where we are and the kitchen, “Max, what’s happening?”
“Shut up,” he bites.
“What are you doing?” she repeats, approaching carefully. Removing one hand from the gun he swings his arm towards her, using his power to send her flying back into the kitchen, she hits her head against the kitchen bench before sliding down to the floor. “I said shut up!” he yells at her unconscious figure.
“Max calm down,” Sam says steadily, holding his hands up in defeat.
“Who are you?” Max snaps.
“We just wanna talk,” Sam responds with instead. Max scuffs, “Yeah right, that’s right you bought this!” he motions with the weapon. Sam takes a careful step forward, “That was a mistake, all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max, okay? Just please, just hear me out.”
He eyes us carefully, “About what?”
“I saw you do it,” Sam explains, carefully, “I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened.”
“What?” Max questions.
“I’m having visions Max, about you,” Sam elaborates.
“You’re crazy,” Maxx huffs.
“So what, you weren’t gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” He challenges, taping his eye, “Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max I was drawn here, all right? I think I’m here to help you.”
His hold on the gun tightens as fresh tears run down his face rapidly, “No one can help me.”
“That’s not true,” I say softly, “I know it feels that way now, and I’m sorry it does. But if anyone can help,” I look at Sam, “It’s him,” I look back at Max, “Please.”
Sam nods, wetting his lips, “Let me try. We’ll just talk, me and you. We’ll get Dean, Y/N, and Alice out of here.”
“Uh-huh. No way,” Dean intervenes. The chandelier above us rattles, “Nobody leaves this house!” Max yells. I want to cut in, I could contain him in a matter of seconds a minute at best. He was skilled, but I certainly knew more than he did. Yet I know I can’t do anything, he’s scared so rushing him with my abilities won’t help. Treating him like a monster won’t help.
“And nobody has to, all right? They’ll just…they’ll just go upstairs,” Sam reasons, but the light fixture continues to rattle.
“Sam, I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Dean mutters.
“Yes, you are,” Sam answers firmly, “Look, Max. You’re in charge here, all right, we know that. No one's going to do anything that you don’t want to do but I’m talking five minutes here man.”
“Sam!” Dean intervenes again. I place a hand on his upper arm, gaining his attention fast and without words, not wanting to scare Max off, I give him a look and a nod silently telling him that his brother will be okay and that he can handle himself. His lip twitches as if he’s fitting off a scowl.
“Five minutes?” Max asks, the chandelier stops shaking, “Go” he nods to his stepmother.
I walk carefully behind Dean, waiting for him as he picks up Ms. Miller, I lead the way up the wooden stairs entering the master bedroom. Dean lays her down carefully, and I find the bathroom attached to the room. I quickly go through the drawers finding a small washcloth, carefully I wet it and ring it out before walking back into the bedroom to find Dean pacing the room, hand by his face. I approach him carefully, he stops his pacing when I step in front of him but worry is written clearly in his eyes, and in the way he hasn’t stopped biting his thumbs nailbed, a habit he exhibited only when he was worried about Sammy.
I raise my free hand to him, pulling it away from his mouth, “He’ll be okay, he knows what he's doing.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything as he takes the washcloth from me before moving past me, he crouches in front of Ms.Miller, lightly pressing the cloth to the small wound on her forehead. He was distracting himself.
I frown. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in his brother, he was just worried. For as much as this was for Sam it was nearly too much for Dean too, he might not be going through it but he was watching someone else navigate the messy plains of powers and the pain that came with it…that was scary. Especially since Dean has always taken his job as an older brother very seriously, doing anything and everything for him no matter the cost, he was meant to be his protector but with these newfound abilities Dean didn’t know how to help, how to protect his little brother– and that scared him.
I cross my arms across my chest, trying to think of what to say when I hear movement heading towards us. I turn towards the door, it creaks open slowly, Max’s figure standing right at the doorway the gun clutched in his hand at his side. I give him a questioning look, but his face is determined and there’s no Sam.
There’s no Sam.
Panic settles in my veins and before I can react Dean is standing in front of me, pushing me further behind him before he takes purposeful steps towards Max. The door slams shut and suddenly Dean goes flying left, barreling into the wall. Oh, two can play that game.
“Max!” Ms.Miller yells from behind me, having woken up in the short time her son arrived. Max points the gun at me with shaky hands, “Move,” he commands. I bring my powers forward, flicking it on, “Do you want to try?” I warn bitterly. He laughs, shaking, “Do you think you’re like me too?”
I assume Sam must have said something about that to him downstairs, “No,” I answer softly. He raises his other hand at me, flicking it to the left trying to send me flying too but I don’t budge. He looks confused and tries again but once more I don’t move. “Max please just put the gun down, this isn’t the way, I promise you,” I reason.
“You don’t get it!” he yells, shaking. I smile at him sadly, holding up my hands in defeat, “Dad drinks and he gets mean,” I say, “You think he doesn’t mean it, he’s just grieving. But it happens one too many times and you get scared.”
His resolve weakens and tears run down his face, “Your Dad?” He isn’t sure whether he should believe me or if I'm just lying to talk him down. I take a quick look over at Dean, who still lies on the floor looking at me with eyes wide, I never told him and I don’t think he ever knew.
I look back at Max, “Yes. My brother took most of it for me, but I reminded him too much of my mother and she was gone while I lived and that was not fair,” I swallow roughly, “I didn’t think he was capable. My mom loved him and he was never like that when she was around, but they did always say she softened him so maybe that’s why.”
“What did you do?” he asks, lowering the gun just a little. I go quiet and he does not like that, he raises the gun again, “Did you kill him?!” he screams.
I shake my head, “No. He managed that all by himself, he grew very careless.”
His eyes scrunch together in confusion, “Did you want to?”
I shake my head again, “No, I didn’t want to be like him. Didn’t want to stoop to his level. My brother though…he, um, I think he wanted to. But he didn’t. When he died, I didn’t cry at his funeral, I wasn’t as sad as I knew I should’ve been, and that alone makes me feel so guilty…” I take a careful deep breath trying to blink away the tears, “Please put the gun down, I know you're angry, you have every right to be. And I know you’re scared but doing this. It won’t help.”
“How do you know!” he screams, his face red, but it comes out weak.
“He’s dead and I’m still scared sometimes,” I admit out loud for the first time, tears slipping down my cheeks as my powers revert to it’s resting stage, “I think I hear his voice or that I see him in a crowd, and I know it’s not really him. But my heart picks up and I think he’s there, and I know what that means and I get scared.”
He looks at me, really looks at me and it is like looking in a mirror, our pain reflecting in each other. He lets go of the gun, but it doesn’t hit the floor instead it floats in front of him, “I’m not you, I won’t sit back and take it. She has to die, they all had to.”
His words feel like a stab to my hurt but I ignore them, “No, Max, please. It won’t help.” I don’t look away from him but even so, I hear Dean standing up and I can feel him getting closer. He puts himself in front of me again, I try to get him behind me, a gun wouldn’t exactly kill me, but he looks down at me his green eyes hard. He moves me behind him, looking back at Max, “You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first.”
“Fine,” he says. Just as the door busts open, Sam comes barreling in, “No don’t! Don’t! Please. Please,” Sam begs, “Max. Max. We can help you. All right.”
I move away from Dean despite the arm that he holds out to stop me from getting closer. Max is shaking, and sweaty, and tears run down his face rapidly. He looks at Sam with anguish, then his gaze turns to me eyes filled with a familiar pain. But his shoulders suddenly drop, and his face clears, “You’re right. It won’t stop.”
The floating gun points at himself. A loud bang rings in the room. Bits of blood splatter on my face. His body crumbles to the floor, a hole in his head.
I stare blankly at a spot on the floor, a small swirl in the wooden floors. Sirens whirl just outside, and cops stand all around us. His body was brought out in a bag. Yellow caution tape sections off parts of the house. Something light was placed in my hand, something to clean the…
Muffled voices sing near me.
He’s dead. I couldn’t convince him, if anything I made it worse. I should’ve said it gets better because it does and it’s not that common that I get scared, I can’t. Not with this job. But I didn’t want to lie and I made it worse.
I feel sick.
I couldn’t help.
He didn’t want to be like me. He’s dead.
He didn’t want to be like me and I didn’t want to be my father and he’s dead. They are both dead and I live.
I live and Dad would say it’s not fair. He’s dead.
A familiar hand nudges me forward, I walk automatically without hearing the voices. Something about…
He’s dead.
The car door opens and I sit inside, automatically putting the seat belt on. Someone says something and the door closes, voices say something outside, and then doors open and close. The car moves forward, the sirens get further away. Eyes look at me and I look at him.
His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.
His body floats away as it burns like a Viking. He hugs me closer to him and we do not cry. We are free sometimes.
His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.
He said it won't stop and there’s a bang.
#supernatural#fanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester#the hunter and the witch update#slow burn#john winchester#dean winchester x witch reader#the hunter and the witch#angst#sad reader#dean winchester x f!reader#dean winchester x reader series#dean winchester x you#banter#flirting#dean winchester flirting#dean winchester banter#sam and dean#dean winchester as a priest#dean winchester being sexy
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Pink Pandas
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, Fluffy
Word Count: 3071
Summary: What happens when you come to find out the man you’ve had a crush on for the longest time also shares those same feelings for you?
Afab!reader, Profanity, Pet names(Baby) Public sex kink, Raw sex (Wrap it before you tap it).
Surprise at the end
You sighed turning yet again in the bed that felt twenty times bigger. You touched his side confirming his absence. Reluctantly you got off the bed making your way out of your shared bedroom. Immediately opening the door you were exposed to the scene of the boys all sleeping on your couch and living room floor. Even with them having their own dorms they were still usually over at your place. You fixed the blanket to cover a shivering I.N’s body before you made your way to the room he spent most of his time in. Of course, he was there, the computer illuminated his face in the very dark room, one headphone on, to be on high alert just in case you or the kids needed him, but even then all of his attention was on the screen.
“Chris?” Nothing, he was ‘in the zone’ like he’d call it. “Chan?” You walked towards him tapping his shoulder. He gasped jumping in his seat, his hand grasping his chest as he turned to look at you completely in shock. Yeah, this was the man who was going to defend you against harm. “Baby?” he whispered walking past you to turn on the studio light. “What are you doing up” “I can’t sleep” You whispered leaning your head on his chest. He laughed wrapping his arms around you. “Why not” “I can’t sleep if you're not in bed with me” “I know I know baby, but I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind so I figured I’d try to distract myself with some song-making” “Do you wanna go on a drive to clear your head” “That would really help me”. You smiled pulling away and walked towards the door, grabbing the car keys. He laughed behind you taking the keys from your grasp. “I’ll drive baby, we need to come back home alive” “Why are you so sure that I’m a terrible driver” “Because remember what happened last time you drove” “How many times do I have to say it, it wasn’t my fault” “Your right baby… that sideway shouldn’t have been there”
His hand gripped the wheel while his other held yours over your thigh. “Are you okay?” You asked looking out the window. Nothing, yet again.“Chan” Nothing, You turned to see him just staring at the red traffic light. What was he thinking about? The light turned green but he wouldn’t go. “Chris” Nope. “Christopher!” The car behind you honked pulling him out of his head, he quickly hit the gas going straight, destination unknown. You let go of his hand running yours through your hair. “Whats wrong” he asked turning to look at you. “You… what’s wrong with you?” “Nothings wrong with me” “Chris… I’m not blind. When something’s wrong you detach… and you're not here with me. Where are you, what's up?” “I just have a lot of things on my mind-” “You said that” You sighed turning to look out the window again. You weren’t mad, you were worried. Lately, you’ve been seeing less and less of your boyfriend, he’s been working like crazy on the newest comeback. But you were worried maybe he’d been overworking too much. He hasn’t been sleeping well, You don’t know how he's eating since he usually spends his time either in the JYP building or in his studio in your shared apartment. It was starting to affect you in a way. Your mind wanders like usual already but when he’s not laying in bed next to you how can you ensure that he’s safe, or he won't pass out yet again from malnourishment? The only way you could make sure he was okay was if you could feel him, and he was with you physically but not mentally. “Pull into this parking lot please” You spoke softly pointing to the parking lot of the supercenter. This was a very popular store but at this unholy hour, the space around you was basically empty.
“We must look weird parked in the way back of the parking lot at 3 a.-” “Don’t bullshit me right now Chris… are you okay?” You cut him off turning to look at him once more. He looked guilty, he looked like a child being scolded by his mother for getting a bad grade. He was caught, he couldn’t hide it anymore. “No” he whispered looking down away from your eyes scared that you’d see right through him and see what really was eating at him. You were taken aback. It was extremely rare that Chan would admit that he wasn’t okay. To anyone. His favorite answer to that question being the typical “I’m fine”. “I’m not okay” he said out loud. You heard him, but he wasn’t saying it to you, but to himself. He was accepting that he wasn’t fine. “You don’t have to tel-” “I’m just so stressed with everything going on… I told them I could take it all, dance practice, recording, then working my ass off to go back to those tracks fix a little here, and a little there and now with-”. He looked up at you, he almost sold himself out. “And now?” “It’s nothing” he brushed it off, turning to look at the bright lights of the store’s sign.
You knew he wasn’t cheating, you crossed that off the list right away. For two reasons, he was far too busy to produce, record, practice, spend time with you, and now someone else? There were frankly not enough hours in the day to handle anymore. Reason number two being he loved you, he really did. You noticed it, in the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, the way he treated you. He made it very known that he loved you oh so much. So what the hell was this ‘and now’ situation? Was it something with work? Was it something with you? You could go about this in two ways, you could either get it out of him or you could wait until he told you at his own pace, when he felt like telling you. Would your overthinking self go insane knowing there was something else he wasn’t telling, yes.
“What could I do” You sighed taking the high road. You slowly grabbed his hand interlocking your fingers. He turned to look at you once more visible tears in his eyes. This next addition to his problems was eating him alive, but you didn’t want to be the annoying girlfriend who forced everything out of him. You both believed in privacy in your lives, so you weren’t going to cross a boundary just for your sake. All you could do was hope he’d tell you soon. “I don’t know” he finally said grazing his finger over your hand. Of course, in typical Bang Christoper Chan manner, he was going to try to comfort you, even though he was the one that needed it. If he didn’t know how you could help him, you surely didn’t. “Maybe a hug?” You suggested turning your whole body to face him. “It’s a start” he forced a smile pushing his seat all the way back to give you space to crawl into his lap. You embraced him letting his head rest in your chest while you stroked his hair whispering sweet confessions of your love and support towards him.
"What would I do without you?" "You'd be just fine" "No I wouldn't… I'd crash and burn" As much as romance movies romanticized that line the sad reality was that it wasn't romantic. Not even in the slightest. It was scary, having to picture the person you love the most 'crashing and burning' just because they couldn't be with you for whatever reason. "I'd be okay" he whispered, noticing the gears in your head turning. He knew you, you were his other half of course he knew that you'd be overthinking his comment. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, enjoying the moment with you. It was moments like that he held dear to his heart. "I don't want to be without you, but I'd be okay… sad, but okay" he whispered his hands resting on your lower back drawing small circles on the exposed skin. " I don't want to be without you either Channie" "Then don't" he smirked kissing you. You felt him grow hard underneath you, obviously taking in your surroundings you pulled away both of you gasping for air. He whined feeling you trying to escape his grasp wanting to go back to your seat. He held you down though, his hold on you being way stronger than your attempts. “Chan someone could see” “Let them see”. You looked at him shocked, he took this moment to place chaste kisses on your neck. He’s always said crazy things like this, like the time the waiter was flirting with you during dinner. Chan was visibly jealous and as much as he tried to show that you were his, by wrapping his hand around you or kissing your lips the waiter wouldn’t give up. So he whispered in your ear low enough so the boys wouldn’t hear his sinful comment. “I’ll bend you over right now and fuck you in front of him so he can see who you belong”. Or like the time that you two went walking in the park at night to clear your heads and he sat in you in his lap on the park bench grinding his hard member into your clothed pussy, begging you to let him fuck you, in public for everyone to see. But those were all jokes, He wasn’t being serious, right?
“Chan” You moaned feeling his fingers draw circles on your clit over your sleep shorts. “Chan we can’t” You moaned melting into his touch. “Baby you’re giving me mixed signals” He laughed pulling his hand away to rest on your thighs. “Do you really want me to stop” You looked around taking in the fact that no one was really around. “Fuck it” You kissed him while your hands traveled down to his sweatpants pulling them down to let his dick spring out. He went back to continue his previous movements and you shook your head pushing his hands away. “Baby what's wrong I’m just gonna stretch you out” “Skip it I’m wet enough, I need you now” “Are you sure” “Mhmm just fuck me channie”. Hearing you call him in these kinds of situations always drove him insane. He positioned you over him pulling your shorts to the side once more allowing you to sink down on him. He watched your face contort into one of pure bliss and pleasure. While you were in fact wet enough you still should've allowed him to prep you a bit. You felt yourself split into two in the best way possible on his throbbing cock. He needed you just as much as you did but he also needed to make sure that you wouldn’t hurt yourself. “Tell me when baby” he grunted really fighting himself to thrust up into you. You nodded resting your face in the crook of his neck to hide yourself, just in case someone was watching you. “C-chris… you can move” You spoke against the skin of his neck. You began to pepper his neck with kisses, you so badly wanted to mark him so everyone could see that he was taken, that he was your ma-. “Mark me baby” “But what about-” “The makeup artist can cover it up, remember when they covered up the scratches you left behind that one time” He grunted thrusting up into you with every word he spoke. You obliged leaving behind hickies on his neck and chest for the world to see.
The windows were fogging, your minds were completely mush at the overpowering feeling of pleasure the both of you were feeling. You threw your head back as you felt his hands on your ass gripping tight for better leverage. Your body had gone completely limp he was doing all the work by bringing you up and down on his dick like a lifeless sex doll. Occasionally checking up on to make sure he wasn’t hurting you. “You okay baby” “Mhmm feels so good channie… Making me feel so good” You moaned grabbing his shoulders for stability. He worked one hand down to your clit drawing you even closer to your high. “Channie I’m close” “Me too baby… hold it for me yeah, Can you hold it for me baby, Can you hold it for channie” You nodded bitting your bottom lip looking down at his fingers playing with you. You tightened around him trying your best to wait for him but you just couldn’t. You cummed around him feeling even less in control of your body you rested your head on his chest as he continued to fuck you. “Fuckkk” He grunted throwing his head back, as he quickly pulled out of you cumming on both of your clothes. “Fuck I’m sorry” “Shit what are we gonna do now” “I mean we could go back home” “And risk the kids seeing us with cum on our clothes” “Shit your right” The both of you caught your breath trying to come up with a solution. In sync, you two looked at the store in front of you and then back at each other. “We’ll be in and out” “Okay but we need to be quick, we can’t risk dispatch seeing us like this, imagine how much trouble you’d be in” “Yeah imagine how much trouble I’d be in for having sex with my beautiful girlfriend oh my god” he said sarcastically rolling his eyes. He really did hate how there was an unrealistic expectation held up for him and anyone in the industry. They were only human and they had to do human things. Poor boys couldn’t even yawn on camera.
He put his hoodie up and put on a mask to disguise himself, holding your hand and guiding you, you stood behind him. Yeah, there was cum on him but it was worse on you. You two both made it to the girl section first, you saw something that he obviously didn’t. Quickly you walked away from him and grabbed the onesie and then picked one in his size. Not noticing you gone Chan went to the guy section his mind also seeing the onesies section. “Okay, baby quickly look for a good one” No answer. “Y/n” he turned around confused at your silence, only to notice your absence. “Y/n?!” “Okay, so I may have found the perfect one” You laughed walking towards him hiding something behind your back. “Baby hide yourself someone can see” “Calm down Chris… there's literally no one here” You laughed getting closer to him. He tried to peek at what you were hiding only for you to back up and conceal it more. “Nuh uh… patience babe… close your eyes” “Baby” “I’ll only show you if you close your eyes and show me your hands” “But I already have one in mind” “Christopher Bahng” “Yes ma’am” he closed his eyes holding out his hands. You placed the onesie in his size in his open hands smiling. “You may open” He opened his eyes looked down then closed his eyes again. “Y/n I’m giving you three seconds to get this away from me” “But it’s cute” You laughed taking it from his hands and holding it up so he could see it in all it’s glory. He opened his eyes rolling his eyes at the sight. “It’s very pink” It was in fact very pink, knowing his obvious distaste towards color you had to pick it. You didn’t notice all the details at first, but after paying very close attention to the pajama you notice the pink fluffy tutu the words princess written across the chest, and the crown on the hood. It was perfect. “Put that down and help me find a wolf onesie” “But what about this don’t you want to be a pretty princess” “I’m gonna have to pass”
“Nope, babe sorry just these” You sighed holding out the panda onesies. "Pandas? Are you sure there aren't any wolves" “I’m sure it’s either the pandas or the princess onesies” “But-” “Hey you're the one who cummed on both our outfits so pick one” “Fine… the pandas it is” “Fuck I really wanted the pink one” “Maybe next time baby” “Do you plan on cumming on my pj’s again” “Maybe” He quickly paid and led you both out of the store back to the car where you both changed into your new outfit discarding the old clothes into his back seat.
You looked in the mirror laughing at the way your hair was a mess after changing, and Chan looked at you with pure love and devotion as you fixed it. “This” He whispered going into the glove compartment of the car, pulling out a tiny black velvet box. “This is what was on my mind. . . It’s been on my mind lately how much I love you and how I want to take that next step with you, I can’t imagine a life without you, and I know more than anything that we’re ready for this new stage, but I’ve been stressing on how to make it perfect… for my perfect girl” It was your turn for tears to form in your eyes as you looked at him, then at the box, then back at him. “Chirs…. This is perfect” “Really” “Mhmm” You bit your lip to fight back tears. “Well in that case” he smiled opening the box to reveal the most perfect, most beautiful-looking ring you’ve ever seen. You couldn’t stop them anymore, tears were falling down your face for sure now. He noticed taking his thumb to wipe them away. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n would you make me the happiest man and marry me” “Yes”.
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Undrunk [hangman PT. 7/12]
PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE
PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader
NICKNAME: Sunshine
Warning: 18+ Smut ahead!
It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.
Want to be added to the tag list for this character, all stories or another character? let me know here :)
PLOT: Penny Benjamin's niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?
PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART
A growl rasps through the man in front of you and the delicious pinch of the flesh on your hips tightens. Jake punctuates his words with nips along your jaw, his perfect teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I won’t be able to stop myself. I won’t be able to come back from this,” he admits heavily, his voice dripping with desire in your ear.
“Fuck me,” you breath, rutting against his hips under the glow of the streetlamp. And just like that, the crumbling dam breaks. Jake’s hands are gone from your waist, now a vice grip on your wrists as he all but drags you down the streets of North Island until you can see his truck parked in front of your home. As you slide through the gate with a rapid haste, you can’t help but yank the broad man against your front. Your back slams against the metal of the truck door, handle digging into your shoulder blade as you kiss passionately.
Making out for a moment, Jake’s fingertips slip passed the lacy material of your skirt until he’s skimming along your warmth. A loud, high pitched whine bubbles out of your glossy, swollen lips as he begins rubbing slow circles over your clothed bundle of nerves. Your skin is on fire, thighs cramping as you try to spread further to allow his touch. You moan against his mouth, oblivious to the notion that here you are – being nearly finger fucked in your driveway for your neighbors’ viewing.
The thought finally breaks your dazed mind, shattering your reality as you pull back from him. Your chest is rising hazardously as you press against him for some distance. His motions stop immediately, blazing green eyes searching your face for signs of mistrust or horror. “Inside,” you breath out, “We need to go.” You swallow down a shaky breath when the crease between his brows dissipates.
Jake follows you up the path, up the stairs to your porch and you can feel his heat against your back as he waits as patiently as possible for you to key the door open. It takes seconds but feels like forever until you finally turn the doorknob and shove the door open. You spin quickly, wrapping yourself around the pilot as he pushes you against the door. The weight of your bodies slamming it shut as you again kiss each other with a fervor, mouths moving rapidly as your fingertips begin to unbutton his shirt.
The material is ripped from his waistline and dragged off his perfect body as he shoves the pure white from your hips to expose your supple thighs. His nails scrap gently along the skin as he rubs up and down, mouth devouring yours as you shove the cotton down his bulging arms. His torso is toned, his abs marbled perfection as you begin to press your lips along each section of his skin in admiration.
“Lift your arms,” he groans against your collarbone, and you follow Jake’s command, raising your arms to allow for him to tug your dress from your body. When he gets the material over your hair, he can’t help but let his jaw go slack. You’d forgone a bra tonight, the tight sculpting of the dress you wore enough of a support to not need a dreaded extra piece of material.
His eyes are trailing along the exposed skin of your breasts and the world stands still. “You’re fuckin’ perfect,” Jake murmurs before he goes to work, suckling one plush nipple between his lips. Your fingertips comb through his short and fluffy blond locks, nails scratching along his scalp aggressively as pleasure washes over you.
You press your knee forward, connecting between his legs to graze his growing length trapped beneath his black jeans. Against your naked thigh, you can feel the stretch and tightening fabric against his bulge as you begin to press further and further into him until he can’t take it. His mouth pops as he pulls away from your swollen bud, hand coming up to twist and tug your other nipple.
At his straightened height, you can pop the button on his jeans and snake your hand beneath the fabric to graze along his thick length. Another groan escapes his mouth as his forehead nuzzles into the column of your neck. Jake begins sucking on the skin there, distracting himself as your hand squeezes him and begins to nudge his tight jeans down passed his ass.
“Fuck Sunshine,” his voice is deeper than you’d ever heard it and you feel the wetness between your thighs, beneath the silky fabric of your panties. You shove against his chest again and he cups the back of your neck, heaving you along with him until the back of his knees touch the soft fabric of the couch. He falls back, quickly tugging his jeans and briefs down to his ankles to reveal the entirety of him.
Your mouth runs dry, the length of him delectable and throbbing. His head is a swollen red, begging to be touched; to be relieved as he is wound too tight. “See something you like?” his teasing tone pulls you from your daze and you lean down to take him in your mouth. “Uh uh,” Jake’s voice stops you, fingers twining in your curly locks as you climb on his lap.
“Not interested in head?” you crack, a wide grin washing over you as you settle onto his thighs. His length is at the perfect angle against your clothed core, and you can feel the dripping of your wetness. “Didn’t take you as the type.”
“There’s nothing more I’d love to do than fuck your pretty little mouth,” Jake seethes against your bottom lip, tongue grazing. “But I need to feel your wet cunt before I nut like a teenager on their first date.”
“I’m honored I can bring you to your knees so easily,” you kiss him fiercely, hips grinding against him for more friction. He bucks up against you without control, grunting at the contact. He kisses you back with an aggression that caused shivers to run up your spine. His strong hands clench the sides of your flimsy underwear, giving it one strong pull as the ripping sound fills your living room.
You didn’t think that the feeling of him rubbing against your bare cunt could cause stars to appear in your eyes, but you’d never fucked Jake Seresin before. You whimper at the feeling, rising up slightly so that Jake can pump himself a few times, his cock sliding between your soaked lips with ease. “Who goes easily on their knees?” he taunts, as his head swirls along your entrance.
“Please,” you beg, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you gaze down into his eyes. He looks so soft and yet so devious in the same breath, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It’s like all your nerves are on fire as you beg again. “Please fuck me, Jake.” And it’s the vulnerability in your voice, the quiver of your lip that should’ve pulled Jake away. Should’ve been the indication that he should stop this, that he shouldn’t take this step and ruin all you both had worked toward.
This eating guilt rang one final alarm in the back of his mind before taking out the batteries and laying silent. The eating guilt that told him he wasn’t enough for you, that he wasn’t the man you deserved.
But Jake Seresin was weak. And so, he pushed his cock up into your entrance with the ease of greeting an old lover, up against your g spot as you meet his hips. You sink down on him with a light moan, your mouth opening as he stretched you out. You pause momentarily as you hit hilt, letting the feeling of fullness wash over you as your hot breath mixes together with his. It feels like heaven.
“You alright,” he peppers kisses along your collarbone as you adjust to the feeling of him, the sweet pressure between your legs soothing as you begin to rock slowly.
“Uh huh,” the noise the only thing falling off your lips as you begin to move against each other deeply, chasing a blooming pleasure within your stomach. You ride him with intention, hands gripping the back of the couch to set a rapid pace.
“God, you feel like heaven,” Jake grunts, pushing up to meet your intensifying movements as waves of pleasure continue to roll straight to your core. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He cups your cheek as he stares up at you, the goddess you are. His green eyes are sparkling, hooded as he nears completion too early in the night as his thumb pulls at your bottom lip.
You don’t think about it, sucking his digit into your mouth slowly and swirling your tongue around it while you fuck him. When he feels satisfied with your work, he pulls away and his hand comes between your legs to rub along your clit to help you finish. Loud moans and slapping skin fill the space as the coil in your tummy finally snaps and you’re falling over the edge.
He picks up the pace for you, rolling you both so that his left foot grazes along the floor. Jake begins to drill into you with tension, his hips whispering a magic unknown as he works you through your orgasm and driving deeper into your cunt. “Fuck, you feel so good Sunshine,” he grunts as he pulls on of your legs over his shoulder, pumping himself in and out of your wetness as your eyes fall shut in an afterglow of pleasure.
You look beautiful, taking him so well and it doesn’t take long for him to finish, pulling out just in time to finish on your thigh as his hand takes over. His forearm is flexing when you open your eyes, and your fingertips wrap around his cock to drain him. A stream of cum paints your skin as he moans and grunts, until your hand slows and his fingertips cease your movements.
Jake’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he calms his heartrate. You take a few deep breaths too, sweaty body shivering from the AC air blowing on your sweaty skin. “Well, that was hot,” you say slowly, leaning up on your elbows to stare up at him. Jake grins, a naughty gaze still present as he pumps himself, leaning down to tug off his briefs and wiping his seed from your skin.
He tosses the material across the room slightly and wraps his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing a few times. He’s already half hard again and his other hand is beginning to tickle up your thigh. You jump when his fingertips slide through your soaking wet folds, nerves ablaze as he lays himself between your thighs. “Think you could cum again Sunshine?” he laps at your juices, humming against you. “Want to watch you fall apart on my tongue.”
You eventually make your way to your bedroom and between the sheets, wrapped up in one another so deeply that you were unsure you were on Earth anymore. You fall asleep in a naked heap, glowing and sweaty in the early hours of the morning.
When you wake up, hours later to the blinding sun seeping in through the curtains, you moan in delight. Stretching slightly, your hand skims across the mattress looking for the warmth of your lover but your fingertips come up empty. “Morning,” you groan, eyes peeling open to see an empty spot beside you. A pang of pain runs through your chest but you hold it down, wrapping the sheet along your torso as you sit up in the quiet of your bedroom.
Jake must be in the bathroom, you think to yourself, calming your nerves as you groggily rise from the bed and make your way down the hall. Only to notice the bathroom door open, empty. The same with the kitchen. It isn’t until you peer out your window that a sob racks through your body, your empty driveway staring back at you.
You wheeze, your breath leaving your body as insecurity rolls in waves down on top of you. He’d left. Jake had done the deed and ditched, not even bothering to leave a note – something you would spend all day looking for. He wouldn’t send a text, wouldn’t give you a call. He’d taken all you had and left you broken in his wake, sobbing against your front door in the quick aftermath of the Halloween night.
A/N: My deepest apologies for the trauma of this ending! We needed to ruffle some feathers and cause some pain...Jake's not the best partner yet!
Taglist:
@luckyladycreator2
@ceilingfann
@rosiahills22
@child-of-sunshine
@callsign-scully
@hopefulinlove
@cevans-winchester
@double-j
@blue-aconite
@callsign-hummingbird
@romanoff13-blog-BLOG
@rosiahills22
@kajjaka
@sylviaes99
@chaoticassidy
@child-of-of-the-sunshine
@memoriesat30
@seresinsweetie
@genius2050
@mayhemmanaged
#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin imagines#jake seresin smut#top gun#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#hangman#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#hangman imagine
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"The Assistant" [Hailee Steinfeld x Fem!Reader] - Chapter 2
Plot: Y/N Waldorf is fresh out of college and her first job is being Hailee Steinfeld's personal assistant, but what Y/N doesn't know is that Hailee is hiding a huge secret from the general public and from her, as her assistant.
Notes: This is a multi-chapter fic, you can also read this on wattpad under the same username "itspbandjellytime". This fanfic is also going to contain NSFW themes in the near future, so if you're under the age of 18 please don't read this. Thank you! If you haven't read chapter 1, here's chapter 1: Chapter 1
Word count: 2k words
[Y/N POV]
Few days have passed since I've moved from Washington to California for this job and stay with Jackie temporarily, I didn't realize that living with your friend could be this fun. I've never had any roommates or anything when I was living in Washington and studying, well I have Kelly who visits me from time to time but things get a little bit lonely when you're not with people. For my case, not anymore.
Jackie and I spent our days going out to eat, look around the city, and talk about stuff that we needed to catch up on before the big day, which is me starting my job as Hailee's personal assistant. I still like to think that this whole ordeal is a fever dream, cause there is no way in hell or heaven that I got a job as her personal assistant. And of course, I decided to dress nice even though Laura didn't e-mail me about the dress code, I still need to look my best when I am face to face with Hailee Steinfeld. I put on a pair of slacks and a pair of black high heels and a while long sleeve button down shirt, my hair is down and I added some light make up and jewelry to make myself a little bit mature and presentable.
"So how do I look?" I asked Jackie, a smile forms on Jackie's face seeing how well put my outfit is "You look amazing! One more thing." Jackie says, standing up from the couch to roll my sleeves up so my forearms are exposed "Better, you look like a Victorian boy with the sleeves down. And I bet it's gonna turn your boss off." Jackie says, jokingly which I rolled my eyes and gently slapping her arm.
"Jackie, I am not there to turn my boss on." I said, chuckling as I straightened my clothes. I checked my phone and my eyes widened to see that it's already 9:25 am, Laura expects me to be at the building around 10:30 am. I start to panic and pace around to grab the essentials that I needed from the counter top, which concerned Jackie a little bit "Y/N, you good?" She asks me.
"I just realized that it's already 9:25, Laura expects me to be there around 10:30." I explained to Jackie, Jackie walks up to me again and asks me "Do you want me to drive you to the office?" Thank God, I became friends with this woman from stan twitter. If I wasn't friends with Jackie, I'd be living on the street by now. "Please!" I said in a dramatic tone, making us both laugh.
Jackie didn't bother glamming up, since she's just gonna drop me off the building I will be meeting Hailee. Jackie just threw in a pair of sweatpants underneath her old gym shorts and a jacket, she grabbed her keys, phone, and wallet patting my back "Alright, I'm set. Let's roll." Jackie says heading out of the apartment, and I followed suite.
After braving the Los Angeles traffic, and a few road rages from Jackie here and there, we managed to arrive at the building at around 10:25. I wouldn't say it was picture perfect but, at least I am not late. I got out of Jackie's car and stared at the huge building in front of me, I turned around and waved goodbye to Jackie before she headed back to her apartment.
My hands start to shake and my legs start trembling, I can already feel the nervousness rushing through my veins as I look at the building right in front of me. I take a deep breath and proceed to enter the building. I walked up to the front desk with a confident smile on my face, my eyes fixate on the name plate the front desk lady has and back at her "Hi, I am here to see Laura McKinnon?" I said in a costumer service-y voice.
When all of a sudden, this woman came out of the elevator, she's blonde and has green eyes, and is also wearing something that a mix of casual and corporate. She's walking up to me with a warm smile on her face, turns out that woman is Laura "Y/N, it's nice to meet you in person. Miss Steinfeld is already expecting you, follow me." Laura told me as I follow her to the elevator, once we were at the elevator, Laura presses a button that leads us to the 12th floor of the building.
As Laura and I arrived at the 12th building, she lead me down the hallway and made me stop outside the door of an office which I assume it's Hailee's. "Wait here for a while Miss Waldorf." Laura says, as she enters the office. I stood there for at least thirty seconds, and after waiting Laura came out of the office "She's ready to see you now." Laura said with a smile on my face as she left.
I took another deep breath and reached for the door knob, twisting it as I enter the office. Once I was there, I was greeted by none other than Hailee Steinfeld sitting on an office chair with a smile on her face, holy hell she's very pretty up close. "You must be Y/N Waldorf." She says, with that smooth sounding voice that will get me weak on my knees in a matter of seconds but I have to be on my best impression and not say anything out of pocket. "Yes, I am Y/N Waldorf. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Steinfeld." I said, trying my best to be confident in front of this gorgeous woman.
Hailee smiles at me and chuckles "Have a seat." She said, gesturing towards the chair across her. I walked up to the chair and sat down, my eyes are now looking into her hypnotizing hazel eyes which caused me to twiddle my thumbs under the desk. "So tell me about yourself, I like to get to know people a little more." Hailee said, I cleared my throat and fixed my posture before I start to speak.
"Well I just graduated college a few months ago, I am born and raised in Washington and I drove all the way from Washington to California... And I live with my friend who I met on Twitter because we are such big fans of you." I said, smiling at Hailee hoping to break the ice between us. Hailee chuckles again, this is the second time I made this woman smile already... I think she likes me.
"You're so dedicated Y/N, just what I need for my team. Also how long have you been a fan of me? Just curious." Hailee asks, the smile not leaving her face. I chuckle and smile at her "Well ever since I've watched The Edge of Seventeen, I loved you as Nadine and yeah... Never looked back ever since." I answered as I keep that smile on my face. Hailee nods, leaning back her chair "Interesting, I love that. Y/N quick question, how long have you been staying with your friend?" She asks, leaning in closer to me, resting her elbow on the desk and her chin on the palm of her hand.
"For almost a week now, I am apartment hunting right now and all I can say is that living in LA is kind of expensive." I say, Hailee chuckles as she moves a strand of hair away from her face "I agree, as time flies the rent in Los Angeles gets higher. I don't blame you, this along with New York, are the cities for dreamers so there are a lot of people living here. Speaking of, do you want to live with me for the mean time?" Hailee asks me her eyes twinkling.
I froze for a second, did Hailee Steinfeld ask me if I can stay with her at her house? In Malibu?!? I looked around my surroundings and looked back at Hailee "Are you serious?" I asked her, hoping she was joking or not. "I am being serious, after all I need to be close with my personal assistant and you won't worry about being late. So what do you say Y/N?" Hailee asks me again, this time a warm smile forming on her face. A smile formed on my face and I nod "Sounds good to me, when do I move in?" I ask her, Hailee leans back again and sighs "Well, how does tomorrow sound? We got some serious business to deal with tomorrow." She asks me back, raising a brow.
"Tomorrow sounds good." I respond, smiling at her with pride as I slowly but surely get used to her now "I am glad to be on this journey with you, Miss Steinfeld." I say, Hailee laughs and shakes her head, she stands up from her chair and I follow suite. "Please, Y/N. Just call me, Hailee instead." Hailee said, extending her arm out for me to shake. I grabbed her hand and I felt how soft and smoot her hand is, which made my heart skip a beat, I shook her hand and gave her a stern nod. "Yep, I'll keep a note on that." I said, letting go of her hand. Hailee smirks and winks at me "Welcome aboard Y/N." She said.
After that, I decided to take an Uber back to Jackie's place. I still can't get over all of this happened today, it still felt like a dream and I can't believe that this job will be the one that will probably change my life for the better.
"Wait, you're gonna live with Hailee?!?" Jackie exclaimed as she grabs a bag of chips from her pantry, I smiled and nodded as she sat down next to me "Yeah, insane right? She said that she wanted me to move in with her." I said, still shocked as I grabbed a handful of chips from Jackie. "You are basically living every fans life, and I am jealous! But at the same time proud of you." Jackie pats my shoulder, putting her arm around me as we binged watch Parks and Recreation.
[HAILEE'S POV]
I had dinner with my manager Laura to discuss things after I met my personal assistant, I sit down across her as our food was served by the server. "Hailee, we need to discuss about your bold move of moving Y/N in your house." Laura said, I furrowed my brows at her words, tilting my head in confusion. "What do you mean by that Laura? I am just doing an act of kindness towards my new personal assistant." I said taking a sip of my beverage and putting it down, Laura sighs as she rubs her temples "I get that, I think it's a good idea. I don't have a problem with that, but however... What if she knows about your secret?" Laura says opening up about the secret.
I swallowed hard, looking around if someone is hearing our conversation "Laura, I've known Y/N just today, I rest assure you that she is a trustworthy assistant. And I bet she won't know what I do behind closed doors." I reassured my manager, I have a feeling that my assistant will not be a huge tattletale despite the fact I've known her already after my conversation with her earlier in my office. "Alright, I trust you on this one." Laura told me, chuckling as she takes a sip of her drink. I smiled at Laura, this woman has been my manager ever since I was a little girl, she's like my second mother at this point "Thanks, Laura." I said as we continued to have dinner. Excited for Y/N to move in with me and start to do some serious business together.
#hailee steinfeld#hawkeye#kate bishop#hailee steinfeld smut#hailee steinfeld x fem reader#hailee steinfeld imagines#emily dickinson#emily junk#dickinson#emisue#celebrity imagine#wlw#nadine franklin#fanfiction#x fem!reader
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November
is for me a month of various anniversaries. 11 years ago I came to this town to sign papers and pay for the house I bought. I got the keys and “stayed for good” a few days later, on my birthday.
The house has its flaws; some I fixed (many by myself, like getting rid of colour brown and exposed brick EVERYWHERE) some I can’t, like insanely high ceilings, making a lightbulbs change or cobwebs removal a life-threatening endeavour. But, here I am… 💪🏼
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Lovers & Strangers - Chapter 12
Previous
I heard Ethan’s car horn blare, so I made my way to the front. I hop in his car, and he looks over at me as he turns the music down, but I refuse to look at him. He doesn’t say anything to grab my attention instead he just pulls out of my driveway and turns the music back up.
“Where are we going?” I ask him after driving around for 20 minutes
“Just driving around. I figured you’d need to clear your mind”
“Why?” I say finally looking over to him as he stops at a red light
“What do you mean?” he says looking back at me
“Nevermind” I say, shaking my head and looking back out the window. He continues to drive until he finds an empty parking lot. He parks his car then puts his car in park before turning it off. I look over at Ethan again waiting for him to say something.
“You’re my best friend, you know that right?” he says making me fight a smile, “You are literally my whole life” he says chuckling, making me finally smile at him
“I’m sorry Ethan” I say looking down at my lap
“It’s fine”
“What did your parents say?” I ask him and he looks at me shocked
“You remember me saying that?” he says
“Guess so”
“Well, nothing because I didn’t tell them” he says and I look at him confused but it made sense. I mean they wouldn’t have kept that from my parents and my parents would have already had me on a plane home, “I wanted to really try and get you so talk to someone before it even came to that, because I know how your parents would react”
“Like a parent?”
“Exactly” Ethan says slightly smiling
“I’ll talk to someone Ethan” I say and sigh, “Let me just finish the school year, then I will when I’m back home for the summer”
“It will be too late” Ethan says then shakes his head before correcting himself, “I mean there is a couple weeks left, you couldn’t see someone here first? You aren’t the same person at home, I just think it would be more beneficial now, don't you think?”
Ethan makes a good point, so I just nod. I think to myself ‘what would I even say to a therapist?’; ‘hey, I’m in love with my best friends best friend, but oh hold up I fuck my best friend and these past few months I’ve felt more like his fuck buddy than his best friend because he never gives me any attention unless I’m drunk, high or fucking him. And oh yeah his best friend was told not to fuck me so we are secret, along with me and my bestie being secret, so my whole love life/ sex life is just one big secret’
“You okay?” Ethan asks me to pull away from my thoughts.
“Yeah sorry” I say, “Sure, I’ll look into it”
“I don’t want to worry about you anymore”
“You always will,” I say with a chuckle and he chuckles in agreement before driving around more. We catch up while we drive around and it makes me happy. It feels like old times, driving around the old country roads in Alberta where we just talk about everything and sing along to music together. It feels so normal.
He eventually drives back to his place and we walk inside. I follow him to his room and sit on his bed pulling his laptop to my lap to do some homework while he gets ready for his practice. I stay in his room writing essays and studying while he is away at his practice.
When Ethan gets back he takes out a duffle bag and starts packing. I look over at him and pout and he chuckles, “One the weekend, I’ll give you the key. You can stay here” he says
“No, I can deal with my roommates for one weekend” I say making him chuckle
“I’ll still leave my key for you”
He continues packing as it gets closer to bed. And I make my way over to the dresser to get changed. I pull off my hoodie and bra, throwing them to the side, “Where is your yellow Michigan hoodie?” I ask him pulling open different drawers looking around
“Closet” he says looking up to see me pulling my leggings and underwear to see my fulling expose body. He watches from behind me as I pull up a pair of his boxers. I turn around to walk over to his closet to see Ethan staring at me, well my tits. He gulps then quickly looks back down to his duffle to pack the rest of what he has laid out on his bed. I walk past him and grab the hoodie and before I could even put it on I felt Ethan’s hands on my hips.
“Fuck, I need to feel you” he says and I turn to look at him. He presses his lips to mine suddenly and I feel his hard bulge rub against my leg. His hand enters into the boxers and he slides a finger inside of me curving it around me making my moan out a little. Suddenly I remember this morning, with Mark. But more importantly I remember what we forgot.
“Wait” I say pulling him away and he looks at me confused, “Not right now”
“Please Y/n, I need you” he says wrapping his arms around me again “6 days without you riding me, I need this” he says.
“We don’t have any condoms” I say trying to think of any reason to stop
“I’ll pull, it’s fine” he says pressing his lips back on mine
“No, not without” I say, pulling away and putting the hoodie on. I walk over and grab sweatpants and his keys
“Where are you going?”
“Condoms, keep packing, I'll be right back” I say.
I drive to the store and walk in quickly as they were closing soon. I make my way to the pharmacist and ask for the morning after pill, and they give it to me, I tell them to hold on before I pay and grabbed a random pack of condoms before returning to the cash. The pharmacist gave me a weird look seeing my two items before I paid and made my way back to the car. I look around for water or something. I knew Ethan had to have something. I found a bottle of gatorade. I opened the bottle and took a sip to wash the pill down.
When I make it back to Ethan’s I make my way back upstairs and pull off the sweatpants and sit on the bed. He is laying in bed already, “Are you still hard?” I ask him as I lay beside him on the bed realizing he was jerking off.
“Just lift your shirt, I’m close” he says and I obey. He reaches over and massages my tits, as he strokes his cock. It really doesn’t take long for him to finish. He grabs my tit a little harder as I hear him moan out, “ah fuck Y/n” he says as he finishes.
My cheeks turn red at the sound of my name, seeing as Mark was moaning it earlier today. Fuck I’m a bad person I thought. Both these boys have no idea. Ethan releases my tit and I roll over on my side after pulling my sweatshirt back down.
After Ethan cleans himself off he comes back into bed and lays facing the same way I’m facing. I turn to look at him and he speaks, “I have practice before the flight so I’ll probably be out of here for 9-ish” he says
“Okay, I probably won’t be awake” I say with a chuckle and he chuckles back
“You better call me if you need anything” Ethan says and I nod before falling asleep
#ethan edwards x reader#ethan edwards#ethan edwards imagine#ethan edwards smut#mark estapa imagine#mark estapa smut#mark estapa x reader#mark estapa#umich hockey imagine#umich hockey#umich imagine#umich hockey smut#umich blurbs
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We pressed on the door, the rusty hinges creaked, and it slowly opened. It was startlingly like the image conveyed to me in Dr. Seward's diary of the opening of Miss Westenra's tomb; I fancy that the same idea seemed to strike the others, for with one accord they shrank back.
While Jonathan says he is reminded of the staking of Lucy, I can't help but wonder if a door opening to a certain other residence belonging to Dracula is haunting him here. Like, of course the memory is on his mind, and he outright says so a bit later but... even more so. I wanna make a point of it.
We closed the door behind us, lest when we should have lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from the road. The Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not be able to open it from within should we be in a hurry making our exit.
I imagine Jonathan watching very closely as the lock is checked. Jonathan, turning his back to it and walking further into Dracula's house, telling himself that he saw the door remains unlocked, that it won't shut him in this time. Telling himself, over and over.
Jonathan, not quite believing.
The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as the rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies threw great shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling that there was some one else amongst us. I suppose it was the recollection, so powerfully brought home to me by the grim surroundings, of that terrible experience in Transylvania. I think the feeling was common to us all, for I noticed that the others kept looking over their shoulders at every sound and every new shadow, just as I felt myself doing.
The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly inches deep, except where there were recent footsteps, in which on holding down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dust was cracked.
Last time he was frightened because he was so alone. He should take comfort now in his companions, and he does a little, but - he feels like they aren't alone. He feels a presence here.
He looks at the shadows. He looks at the footprints in the dust. He knows neither means anything when it comes to vampires.
On a table in the hall was a great bunch of keys, with a time-yellowed label on each. They had been used several times, for on the table were several similar rents in the blanket of dust, similar to that exposed when the Professor lifted them. He turned to me and said:—
"You know this place, Jonathan."
Walking through Dracula's home in the dark, searching the old and abandoned rooms for keys. Yes, he knows this place. Knows it too well.
It takes him a moment to remember about the map. To remember this is Carfax, not the Castle.
We were prepared for some unpleasantness, for as we were opening the door a faint, malodorous air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of us ever expected such an odour as we encountered. None of the others had met the Count at all at close quarters, and when I had seen him he was either in the fasting stage of his existence in his rooms or, when he was gloated with fresh blood, in a ruined building open to the air; but here the place was small and close, and the long disuse had made the air stagnant and foul.
It stinks, like the last chapel. But worse. The smell crawls inside, filling him with revulsion and fear. His feet feel cold in his shoes. He expects to feel stone with each step.
There were only twenty-nine left out of the fifty! Once I got a fright, for, seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turn and look out of the vaulted door into the dark passage beyond, I looked too, and for an instant my heart stood still. Somewhere, looking out from the shadow, I seemed to see the high lights of the Count's evil face, the ridge of the nose, the red eyes, the red lips, the awful pallor. It was only for a moment, for, as Lord Godalming said, "I thought I saw a face, but it was only the shadows," and resumed his inquiry, I turned my lamp in the direction, and stepped into the passage. There was no sign of any one; and as there were no corners, no doors, no aperture of any kind, but only the solid walls of the passage, there could be no hiding-place even for him. I took it that fear had helped imagination, and said nothing.
Counting boxes again, he sees the Count. Just a glimpse, just a moment - pale, red-eyed, red-lipped, staring. (Bloated, blood dripping from the mouth, eyes burning into him, his mind afire-)
It's not real. It must not be real. No one else saw anything. (He checks further, just in case.) There's nowhere he could be. It's just the fear getting to him, it's just paranoia. He shouldn't speak of this. No one else needs to know how his mind wavers, echoes what has come before. He will focus on the facts, those confirmed by others. He will focus on the task at hand.
Whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphere by the opening of the chapel door, or the relief which we experienced by finding ourselves in the open I know not; but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed to slip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our coming lost something of its grim significance, though we did not slacken a whit in our resolution. We closed the outer door and barred and locked it, and bringing the dogs with us, began our search of the house. We found nothing throughout except dust in extraordinary proportions, and all untouched save for my own footsteps when I had made my first visit.
See? It was just fear. When the rats are gone he feels better. The evil influence has vanished, the smell is clearing, his mind is clear. Mina is safe at home, they have got information of vital importance, this is a victory every step of the way.
(He sees his footprints in the dust, from long ago. The steps of a man unaware, walking blithely into utmost danger.)
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Scarecrow had a nightmare for sale!scriddler, if you don't mind.
Of course! Here they are!✍
Ask is still open. If you want a couple of paragraphs from me - welcome!🤗
A match struck. The sound was so loud, but only I could hear it. A small, weak flame was desperately struggling with the thick darkness of the night. But soon I helped the yellowish light turn into a scarlet fire, devouring whole hectares. The darkness dissipated in fright. The old wooden house was completely burned down to the rotten foundation. The whole history of my family, all memories, all kindred blood were destroyed in one night with one match. I'm the only one left. The roof collapsed, fire drops flew in all directions and fell on a huge field. I have given this land almost all my life, but its burning pleased me.
Through the loud crackling of burning wood, screams and cries for help sometimes slipped lost in the fire. All the doors were closed, and I had a heavy bunch of keys. Finally. My torment is over. I got rid of my curse. Burn! Shout! Remember me before your death! Remember everything you've done to me. Call our precious mommy. But this time she won't save her pets, she won't hide them under her skirt, because my hands have previously turned her neck into a flexible rope. Now this creature sleeps forever, and the screeching of her children burning alive has become her last and eternal cradle.
Suddenly, the beautiful and overly bright picture began to change. The fear of tormented souls was replaced by bitterness. Smoking black hands reached out to me, grabbed me and dragged me into the hellfire I had created. No! Let me go! You deserve it! Leave me alone! You should be afraid of me!
"Decided to get rid of us, Johnny? You must be punished! Punished!"
The fire enveloped my body and tore off my skin. Blood boiled and foamed, bones smoldered. Fingers with exposed, sharp and red-hot phalanges clung to my face. My hair burned, my flesh hardened and cracked, blood flooded my whole face and darkened my eyes with a scarlet veil. There was nothing left but to scream in panic at the top of my voice and resist to no avail. The fire ran wild and devoured the boundless field at high speed. My only friends and listeners, a flock of crows, did not have time to fly to a safe place. They, too, disappeared into the sky-reaching wall of fire. No! It shouldn't be like this! They deserve it! Deserved it! My punishments must stop!
"…deserved it!.." stagnant hot air burst out of my chest. The body jumped at once, the hands twitched and squeezed the pillow. The claws almost tore the pillowcase. A dream… just a dream. I grunted with displeasure and rubbed my swollen eyes with my palms.
"It's all in the past… in the past… only I am left." I repeat this several times in order to even out my breathing. Through the slightly open window, a cool wind blew into the room, which soon calmed my inner heat. The drops of sweat dried up, drowsiness gradually returned, but annoying thoughts and throbbing pain did not leave my head. Squinting, I looked around and rummaged a little in the crumpled blanket. Right next to me was Edward, sleeping peacefully. One hand was holding on to the corner of the blanket, the other was raised above his head and laid on the pillow. It's a good thing I didn't wake him up. He worked for a very long time today, I barely managed to get Edward out of his office and persuade him to go to bed. I don't sleep well myself, so when I manage to get enough sleep, I want him to be with me. A calm, even peaceful look, parted lips and a quiet sweet sniff, which immediately began to calm me down. I quietly creep up to Nygma and nuzzle his shoulder. Just need to be patient a little and the pain will go away. It's so nice to have you with me. My hands took his palms by themselves, fingered his thin fingers and sometimes stroked his head. So good. This smell of paper, ink, newspapers and vanilla sugar reminds me that I am no longer alone.
"Mnh… huh? Jonathan?" Edward mumbled softly when I stopped holding back and just hugged him like a favorite toy. My response was silence and a careful kiss on the cheek.
"Is everything okay, Jonathan?" he kept talking through his sleep and took my hand.
"They… deserved it, didn't they?" I didn't want to say it, but my tongue let me down. Edward immediately woke up and turned to me.
"Again?" he asked excitedly. Green eyes glittered in the dark.
"Yes…" I didn't deny it. Edward knows that I am sometimes disturbed by such dreams. With a sad sigh, he slowly stretched out his arms.
"Come to me, dear." and Edward hugged me and pressed me to his chest. It immediately became very convenient. All sounds were muffled and only the pounding of his heart filled my ears. I hugged Nygma tightly in response, naturally clung to him, wanting to drown in him. Now all thoughts were about Edward. He is so gentle, caring, understanding and all these values go only to me. Sometimes, it's hard for me to believe it. Sometimes, it all seems like a dream too.
"It's okay… I'm with you." he whispered gently in my ear and stroked my head and the back of my head. In his arms, all the scars stop hurting, all the dark memories go away. I feel at peace and enjoy every second.
"I… love you."
"I love you too, my dear."
#scriddler#riddlecrow#scarecrow#salecrow#riddler#saleriddler#jonathan crane#edward nygma#Blacki's fanfiction#Blacki's ask#writers on tumblr
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One more for good measure before I yeet myself back into the crypt. Fluff/smut/mild angst. Michael Myers x GN!Reader.
Smaller Than the Ocean, Bigger Than You
Michael Myers has never been to the beach. You decide to change that.
Rating: Explicit/NSFW
Length: 2.2k
CW: smut, oral, choking, hair pulling, biting
Reader POV
There are countless things Michael Myers has never experienced.
Big things, like birthday parties, the freedom of summer vacation, a first date, first car, first job. Small things that are somehow so much bigger: snow angels. Trips to the library. Learning how to cook something besides toast. You’ve done what you can to catch him up on those experiences, as much as he is willing to try, which is admittedly limited. Public places are by and large off limits, the overstimulation of sights and sounds dangerous for everyone present. Media of all sorts is of little interest to him. Technology is a nonstarter.
While the chance to guide him through new experiences is unique, precious, and often immensely enjoyable, it is almost always a little heartbreaking. Often your guesses about what he might find compelling are wrong and you are met with a blank, dispassionate stare. Other times, he is as close to delighted as he ever comes – bubble baths, for example, are a surprising favorite.
This time, your hopes are high.
It takes no small amount of convincing beforehand. Michael does not enjoy trips in the car, especially with you at the wheel, especially on an unfamiliar route. When you explain that there may be other people there, you just about lose him on the idea. But eventually, you manage to cajole him into the weekend road trip with a compromise on who will be driving most of the way.
He watches you pack both bags like he’s supervising the task. He is skeptical about the swim trunks. He examines the sunscreen closely before handing it back to you without comment. You smile at the wariness in his eyes.
“I know it seems like a lot of new things, but I promise it will be worth it. When we get there, you’ll see. If you don’t want to do anything else, we can just sit and look at it.”
He lets out a long sigh.
The night before you leave, he sleeps even less than usual. You remember what it was like before a big trip as a child, the anxiety and excitement over an early morning departure. You rub his knuckles with your thumb, a small gesture that has become the go-to comfort signal. The last thing you see before you drift off is his face in profile, staring at the ceiling.
In the morning, he is up before you and standing by the door with the car keys in hand. You pack into your little car and settle into the passenger’s seat. He gets to drive the first stretch through familiar roads.
It is a beautiful day and a beautiful drive. When you eventually take over, he rolls down the window and lets the air rush over his face. You know it helps ground him, helps distinguish this drive from being transported between institutions as a prisoner. His wavy hair fluffs in the wind, his big hand wrapped around the rim of the window, and your heart contracts.
At the halfway point, you stop for the night at a roadside motel. He does not come into the lobby with you to check in, but after a careful inspection of the room he seems to relax. He is accustomed to sleeping in unfamiliar places.
He undresses you slowly while you lay beside him on the polyester bedspread. His face, as always, is expressionless, but his eyes drink you in, a bastion of familiarity in a strange place. You let him set the pace, especially here, and while he is in no rush to expose his own skin, he strips you to nothing and wastes no time closing the distance between you.
His curls hang around his face as he moves his mouth down your midline, his breath warm on your skin, his tongue tentative. Your toes curl when he reaches your sex. He has learned the value of delicacy, no longer quite so frenzied when he goes down on you. You sigh, moan, body lolling back against the pillows. “Michael….”
He loops his arms under your thighs and lifts you closer. Waves of pleasure roll up your spine and your abdomen contracts. When you open your eyes, his gaze is intent on your face. You want so badly to touch him but you know he will not approve and so instead you clench the bedspread in your hand, gasping.
When you are close, so close, to your climax, he pulls away and flips you onto your stomach. You wait impatiently, expectantly, for the feeling of him between your legs. He slides his full length into you with the first thrust and you whine, twisting the covers. His fingers run across your scalp and he takes your hair in his fist, drawing your head back with measured force. He is not one for kisses, but he bites the base of your neck and sucks. His supporting arm beside your head is beautifully veined.
Just before you come, he releases your hair and his hand glides to your throat, wraps snugly around it, not too tight, but enough that he can feel your vocalizations. His thumb and fingers span the distance between the corners of your jaw like they were made for each other. As he finishes inside you, his grip tightens and your vision fuzzes.
He remains on top of you afterwards, supporting most of his considerable weight on his elbows. He has kept his shirt on, but the heat of his skin is overwhelming. You reach up and lightly tug one of his curls. You are shocked when he nuzzles your temple, lips brushing your hairline in what is almost a kiss.
And then just like that, he is gone, the sudden lack of him on top and inside of you dizzying, and when you turn over he has already disappeared into the bathroom. It’s freaky, his ability to melt from one place to another.
You pull on a t-shirt to sleep in and wait for him to return. Often after sex he needs breathing room, time for his body and brain to process the amount of physical contact he has just experienced. You have both gotten better at feeling out his boundaries. He no longer reacts violently when gentle, affectionate touch becomes too much.
When he comes back, fully clothed, he lies next to you and stares at the ceiling. You don’t know where he goes in his mind during moments like this, but it must be a safe place, for he retreats there often. Eventually, he slides his arm out towards you, palm against the mattress, and you stroke his knuckles with the back of your fingers. Eventually, he flips his hand over and you trace the lines in his palm, up and down each finger in order. Eventually, he shifts his head into your lap and lets you comb through his curls and massage his scalp. His eyes are light and although they do not close for very long, they do close. How incredibly far he has come, you think. How comfortable must he be with you to allow this kind of simple, peaceful physical interaction. How lucky you are to see this side of him.
There are two beds in the motel room – you always give him the option of more space – but he spends the night beside you, on top of the covers, and you think he sleeps well.
In the morning, back on the road, you stop for coffee. He likes plain lattes. Food that is too spicy, too bitter, too much of anything, he does not care for. Halloween candy is the exception. His anxiety has lessened considerably from the previous day’s journey and he even allows you to drive most of the rest of the way while he watches the scenery roll by.
When you approach your destination, he straightens in his seat. You know he can smell the change in the air. A glimpse of it through the trees and he all but leans out the window. His hand reaches absently towards you and you place yours on top of it. He looks at you with a mix of curiosity and trepidation and you smile back encouragingly.
At last, a full, uninterrupted view of the ocean opens up around the vehicle. Michael sits forward, gaze panning slowly across the horizon. The way the world seems both to end and extend forever, you know he has never seen anything like it. His eyes are tumultuous as he tries to take it all in at once.
You know you’ve picked a good destination when you park and there are only two other vehicles in the lot. He is hesitant to exit the car, sitting with the door open as you unpack the beach day necessities from the trunk. When you come around to his side he looks at you expectantly.
“Come on,” you say, setting everything down and reaching out both hands. “We can go look first.” He does not take your hands, but he unfolds from the car, his incredible height looming over you. He allows you to lead the way out of the parking lot, up the boardwalk trail that crests a hill thick with grasses and then deposits you in the sand.
The sand is worth stopping for. He stares at you dubiously as you pull off your shoes and sift your feet down to the cool underlayer. “You can try it if you want,” you say, bending down to scoop up a handful and letting it trickle back out. He watches you before turning back to the ocean. He is captivated.
You touch him lightly on the elbow and walk past him. “We can get closer.” He follows you at a distance with his head tilted slightly, absorbing the sound of the waves. When you walk all the way to where the sand is wet and let the tide swell up over your ankles, he stops about ten feet from the waterline, totally at a loss. The wind tosses his hair. The shriek of a gull draws his gaze like a magnet before it swings back to you. You dip your hands in the water and shake them off, backing further into the surf. “This is the ocean,” you say. “It’s one of my favorite places.”
He actually cocks an eyebrow, just a little. For him, this is the equivalent of throwing his arms in the air, as if to say he does not even know where to begin. You grin and approach him, sand coating your wet feet. “You can take it slow. We have all day.”
He stares out at the edge of the earth and you wonder if for once, he feels small. He makes no move to enter the water, his fist clenching and unclenching in an unconscious self-soothing gesture. But there is little tension in his shoulders and none in his jaw, and eventually he pulls off his own shoes, plants his feet carefully in the sand, watches it filter through his toes, and then looks back at the sea.
Eventually you return to the car to get your things. To your surprise, he does not come with you, and when you come back he has moved to the edge of the tide. You sidle up beside him and together you watch the water rise, barely touch your toes, and pull back across the sand. He does this for a very long time.
The day is spent in increments, alternately sitting up the beach and standing in the surf. The two of you walk along the shore for nearly an hour and he keeps looking back at the waves that erase your footprints. You introduce him to a few low-anxiety beach activities, like looking for shells (he is very good at this but you can tell he does not understand the purpose) and piling sand up over your legs (he is also very good at this and seems to enjoy it). By far, however, he spends the most time just looking.
When the sun sinks at last into the sea, you hate the way he stares up at you as you begin to shake the sand from the beach towels and stuff them back in the tote bag. “We can come back tomorrow,” you say, and reluctantly he stands up once the only thing left in the sand is himself. You take his hand on the walk back to the car, running your thumb over his knuckles, and he squeezes your fingers tightly.
In your hotel room, he lays down immediately and breathes out a long, heavy sigh. The sun has lightly kissed his cheekbones, probably for the first time, and it is immensely attractive. You order in takeout and he eats, per usual, like it is his last meal. Exhausted from the sun and the plethora of new sights, sounds, and sensations, he falls asleep well before you do, something you have only seen him do once or twice before. You hope you haven’t overdone it.
But in the morning, you wake to the familiar sense of being watched. To your amazement, he is dressed – in swim trunks – and the beach things are piled by the door. You hold back a laugh and beam at him.
“What do you say, should we go to the beach?”
#my writing#michael myers x reader#michael myers x you#michael myers x y/n#michael myers fanfic#michael myers#michael myers fic#michael myers fluff
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omg otp asks okay: 1, 13, 17, 20, 27, & 51
1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you’?
Harry to be honest. I can see this being his reasoning every time he works overtime or does anything with the intention of protecting her and his family. “I’m doing this for our family, to make the world a safer place for them. Because I love you! And I love them!” Also this dude is mega dramatic for literally anything. Whether Ginny would accept that as a valid reason to end an argument is another question entirely 🤔 . Either way, there’s always a part of her that tingles every time she hears it.
13. Who’s the bigger tease?
Intentionally, Ginny. She’d corner him when he’s either really busy doing work at home or even at the Burrow, Ministry meetings, or even at mundane places like the grocery store. She’d flip her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, or start touching the pads of her fingers on his bicep, or lean on his side, or stare at him with the classic blazing look. Harry would pretend to ignore it but there’s no mistaking his rising blush - and when he grows older - his foot and fingers from tapping restlessly before he gives in and pushes her against the wall in some lonely corridor (just like old times) where he can really give all his attention to her, not that she didn’t have it already.
Unintentionally, Harry. He’d offer to read the book she’s reading (“you’re laughing so much, it can’t be that funny” but they both know he wants to just laugh with her), or compliment her flying skills, or gush at her witty commentary in the Prophet, or suggest he watch the kids while she goes for some much needed girl time - in which case, Ginny decides everything else can fucking wait because this hunk of a man is actually with her forever and ever and ever, and she proceeds to blow his effing mind (amongst other things) once more.
17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?
Both do it a lot tbh, but the person who does it the most is Harry. As much of a rep Gin gets for being impulsive, when it comes to random kisses Harry takes the lead. In his eyes, she’s just so cute and small but also she’s this ball of energy and light, and when he looks upon her as she’s hexing yet another person who lowkey (high key) deserved it, he thinks back to the war and his suffering and all he can come to terms with is yes. It was worth it. She will always be. And then, boom. He snogs the angst away, and she lets him.
20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.
SJLAKSJSLAKSLDKAL IT IS TIME FOLKS, I HAVE OFFICIALLY COME BACK FULL CIRCLE.
Long story short (another amazing Taylor Swift song that encompasses Hinny btw), the answer would have to be Daylight by Taylor Swift. I talk about it in my very first post on tumblr here and it’s the title to my short story compilation on ao3 here.
Need convincing? Just look at these bomb lyrics that my girl TS dropped.
My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in
Everyone looked worse in the light
There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven
I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you
I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night
And now I see daylight, I only see daylight.
I honestly have a whole Taylor Swift Hinny playlist that I’d be glad to share if anyone wants it.
27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?
Sigh. Ginny, poor thing. As a shorty myself, I figure she wouldn’t get past much. But Harry finds it cute when she drinks and she’s always doing really silly things like dancing on top of tables and making really brazen innuendos that make him grin as much as he blushes. She’d probably hit him teasingly for being a “typical noble male git” if he told her this, but he really really really enjoys taking care of her afterward, lying her down and giving her water and massaging her sore feet (because dancing is exhausting, people!) and pampering her in ways she’d roll her eyes at if she was sober.
51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?
At first, my answer was going to be in very practical ways like doing each other’s dishes without asking for it/not their day to do it, or Harry killing the cockroach in the corner of the room without teasing her even the tiniest bit because dammit Ron may be scared of spiders but Ginny is absolutely terrified of those disgusting shitters (“Did you know cockroaches have evolved the least out of all bugs?” “Yes, Gin, you say this every single time.”)
But then I remember HBP and the intimate way they’d interact, so I actually do think they keep anniversary dates in mind (nothing too big but appreciative enough - and they definitely like experiences/traveling more than fancy dinners). And I think the way they laugh and touch each other and run fingers through the other’s hair and give massages are all very intimate expressions indeed.
Especially laughter. When Ginny makes a joke and Harry laughs, that validation is like he’s telling her he loves her 3245 times and she absolutely gushes over it.
And when Harry catches Ginny’s mischievous eyes every time someone says an inappropriate joke, he finds himself physically pressing his palm to the core of his chest from the way his heart violently wants to leap out of it.
#harry x ginny#hinny#otp asks#otp: better than firewhiskey#nice asks#thanks for the ask!#go check out the path from you by foreverginevra everyone!!#her ao3 is takearisk#I’m getting to everybody else’s asks btw ty all for actually valuing my opinion omg
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Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11
Chapter 12
Declarations
The Vibe:
Boy
I'm kinda freaking out. Like, full-blown panic. It's almost time to pick up Namor, I spent the day stress-cleaning the apartment and shopping for snacks and ingredients for dinner; I'm making stir fry with sauteed shrimp on the side (in case he doesn't eat meat 😬). I don't know why I'm so nervous about him being here, I feel like this is kinda a big deal. I haven't been able to eat because of my nerves and Peter talked me down from canceling several times and practically forced fed me meal replacement shakes so I wouldn't fall over.
Thank god for Peter, by the way, he said he'd make himself scarce for the night and patrol the city; Fridays are busy for Spiderman. Honestly, he's been busy almost every night, I high-key think he may be seeing someone; that 'Black Cat' girl maybe? He hasn't said anything to me since telling me about her and I swear the other night he smelled like women's perfume.
I suppose he'll tell me when he's ready
I'm wearing a pair of stone-washed jeans and a navy green crop top layered with a beige extremely cropped long-sleeve turtle neck. I was going to pair it with heels but decided to throw on my white sneakers since we were just staying home. My braids are starting to look a little raggedy so I throw a bandana on to cover my loose roots. Top it off with a pair of gold hoop earrings and I'm done. I look at myself in the mirror satisfied; with my scar, I don't usually like my belly exposed but today I look good.
I put on my sling ring, and do a once over the apartment, everything looks good. Checking my phone and see it was only 7:45 pm so I decided to play on my phone and smoke a joint to help with my nerves. Opening and sitting by the window I see I have 3 more unread texts from Bucky
Fuck I never replied to him
3:22 am
I saw you read my message...
3:36 am
I just want to apologize. I've been terrible to you.
5:02 am
I coming to see you
Is he serious right now??
I begin to text him back,
7:50 pm
Bucky, stop. I have company coming over, and you will embarrass yourself, Just stay home and we can talk about this tomorrow. Have a good night.
Almost 5 minutes later he responds with 2 thumbs up.
"Girl he is something else," I say to myself while turning my phone to silent. Closing the window, I quickly go brush my teeth, then eventually open a portal inside Namors Temple. Leaving the portal open behind me, I step through and see Namor painting something new on his wall. He was wearing signature green shorts and white robes; I don't think he's noticed me here just yet.
"Táan wáaj a ts'o'oksik, in Ajaw? 'Are you ready my king?' I ask him
He turns a bit startled and smiles at me, "Where did you learn to speak my language like that? I've heard you speak it before but now you sound as if it's your native tongue."
"Yaanten in secretos. 'I have my secrets' " I laugh, "Uts ti' a wich? 'Do you like it "
"Ma'atech a cha'ik u sorprender in. 'You never cease to amaze me " he replies
I giggle and look away, "Stop it"
He's got me blushing like a high school girl.
Namor puts his brush down and has a seat at his table, "Come closer Ki'ichpan" he says raising out his hands to me
I walk up to him and place my hands in his, "You look beautiful today" he says smiling up at me
"Thank you" I smile
He then takes his hands placing them on my hips pulling me closer between his legs and places a kiss on my bare stomach and looks up at me, "I've missed you"
"I've missed you too," I say playing with his hair, "Come on" I start to pull him out of his seat, "let's go so I can cook you some dinner."
----------------------
I gave Namor a tour of the place, it's not huge; your basic 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, and a kitchen right off the living room. He was sitting at the kitchen island, watching me prepare our bowl with the stir fry, "I made some shrimp on the side if you'd like some. I wasn't sure if you ate meat."
"Absolutely" he smiles
I finish by adding a handful of shrimp to our bowls and hand him his while I sit across from him, "I hope you like it" I say, watching him try his first bite.
"I Like it," He says with a soft chuckle, "This is good, thank you"
"You're welcome" I reply.
He is giving me the warm fuzzies
We eat our dinner mostly in silence, the food was pretty good, I hadn't eaten all day and he So thoroughly enjoyed the taste. Now we find ourselves on the couch sharing a bowl of ice cream. I've easily convinced him out of his robes and am sitting in his lap, feeding us back and forth.
"I don't think I have had this much fun in a while. You're good company" I laugh
"I can say the same about you Ki'ichpan. Keep feeding me like this and I'd give you anything"
"Anything?" I ask
Oh this should be fun
I scoop the last bit of the ice cream and hold it to his mouth, "Here last bite." Namor opens his mouth and I 'Accidentally' drop the ice cream on his chest, "Oh shoot, let me get that for you" I say dipping down and licking it off his chest, "Better?" I ask
"You're playing a dangerous game Ki'ichpan. I didn't plan on taking you this early in the night." Namor warns
I spread my legs a little further on his lap and lightly grind on his dick teasing him, "What's stopping you hm?"
Namor pulls me into a fiery kiss quite literally taking my breath away. He breaks away only to kiss and bite my neck causing me to moan.
"Keep that up and you won't last the rest of the night."
Before I could reply we were interrupted by a knock at the door, "Ignore It" I say continuing our kiss.
The knocking gets a little louder, "Sounds important. Go, I can wait for you"
I nod my head and get off his lap and head to the door. I look through the peephole and see that it's Bucky.
The Vibe:
Celeste - Strange (Lyrics) | I am still me you are still you
"What the fuck" I say exasperated
"What's got you upset?" Namor says walking to me and taking my hand
"It's Bucky." I say embarrassed, "He's been messaging me since last night. He said he was coming to see me, but I didn't think he'd follow through. I also explicitly said to stay home."
Namor's eyes darken a little, "Let me take care of it."
"No, no. I can take care of it, just please wait here." I crack open the door so bucky can only see me, "Bucky what the hell?"
"I just want to talk, can I come in?" He says beginning to walk forward
Holding my hand out I make contact with his chest and firmly stop him from entering, "No Bucky, I'm serious go home. I don't want you here."
"Fine I'll say what I have to say here then," he says
I feel the door being ripped from my hand, it was Namor, he was now standing over me with one hand on the door and the other holding the frame. "Why don't you leave as she said."
Bucky clenches his jaw looking at Namor and then at me, "Really Millie?"
"Really what James? I don't owe you anything. And both of you knock it off with the alpha male behavior Okay?" I snip, "You want to talk?" I say pointing at Bucky, "Fine, 5 min, and then take the hint and go the hell home." I push him into the hallway and turn around to Namor, "Please stay here, I'll take care of it."
He looks at me, then at Bucky, and back at me, "I don't trust him." He says pretty loudly.
"Hey man, why don't you go back inside and mind your damn business." Bucky scoffs
"Will you just be quiet, please?" I yell to Bucky. Looking at Namor, "You don't have to trust him. Trust ME when I say I'll be fine." He looks at me and nods, walking away and closing the door behind him.
He's very upset
I let out a sigh of frustration and turn to look at Bucky, "Dude what's the matter with you? You're giving me whiplash. You break up with me because what? You think I could do better, but when I start to move on you want me? I don't understand you."
He brushes his hand through his hair, "I still love you."
"Well I'm sorry but it will pass," I say half hysterical
"Do you not love me anymore?" He asks
"What does it matter? Bucky YOU left me." I Yell
"It matters!" He yells back
"WHY?"
Before I knew it he was kissing me; I wanted to stop him and fight back but my body betrayed me. The kiss was desperate and full of desire. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck as he held me tight in his arms pushing me back into my door making a loud thud. The noise brought me back down to Earth,
What am I doing?
"Stop" he continues to kiss me, "STOP" I push him off trying to catch my breath.
Finally, he begins to answer my questions, "It matters because if you still love me, then we have a chance. If you don't I will stop and move on" he begins to walk away, "Call me later when you're ready to talk"
Fuck...
I catch my breath and gather my barrings before I open the door and come back inside. Namor was standing there by the door waiting for me. His face and body language were unreadable, I don't know where his head is at. His energy is a bit alarming I can't tell if he wants to yell at me or jump my bones, or both.
Uncomfortable with the vibe, I take a step back putting my hands in my back pockets, "Hey..." I say "Did you hear-" I try to continue
"Everything," he says softly. He was looking me in my eyes like he was reading my mind searching for something. Finally, he speaks up, "Do you love him?"
I feel myself about to cry, twice tonight my body fails. I look down so he can't see my eyes filling with tears, "I don't want to..." I say softly.
Walking towards me, he gently lifts my head, pulling me into his gaze, "It's okay." he softly says pulling me into a hug. I was fully expecting him to yell and be angry with me but he surprised me with his compassion. "Love is a library of confusion. It's complicated, I can understand that."
"I'm sorry," I say embracing him back.
"Nothing to be sorry for. Millaenyia," He calls to me. I look up, " In case I haven't made it abundantly clear already, my heart burns for you. I want you to be mine, and I to be yours. You may not love me now, that's fine because I can wait until you do; whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same" he kisses me. Unlike my kiss with bucky, this one was calming and gentle, he let me lead. Just before I can lose myself in this kiss he pulls away, "I can smell him on you."
"I'm sorry... I don't know what to say"
What can I say in this scenario? How can you remedy an impossible situation like this? He thinks our souls are one of the same. I can't deny at this point that I still love Bucky, but with that being said I'm developing feelings for Namor. Fast and Hard. What do I do? Everything is complicated right now.
"Millaenyia?"
"Hmm?" I say focusing back in on Namor
"Where did you go just now?"
"In my head"
"What are you thinking about?"
"That I am confused." I half chuckle and half cry, "I don't know I guess I'm overwhelmed." I place my hand on his face, "I appreciate your words, you've been extremely accommodating of my feelings. I just need a little time to think and gather my thoughts before I respond to your beautiful words. I don't like jumping into things half cocked and if I'm going to be with you, I want to BE with you. Does that make sense?"
"I understand, take your time" he nods, "In the meantime, while I'm here with you, can we forget about everything and just enjoy each other's company?" He smiles
The Vibe:
Doja Cat - Freak (Audio)
Smiling back at him, "What did you have in mind?"
"I was hoping I could get that smell off of you and replace it with something more," he looks me up and down, undressing me with his eyes, "pleasant"
"I could go for something pleasant" I smile grabbing the top of his shorts and pulling him closer to me, "Ba'axten ma' ka pitik a ka pitik hmm? 'Why don't you take these off hmm?' "
"Teeche' yáax 'you first' " he challenges me
I have been waiting for this moment hehe
Tonight I decided to spice it up a bit and wear a white crochet lace garter lingerie set. I take my time peeling off my top layers one by one, slowly revealing my snug bralette. Namor couldn't help himself and reached his hand out to touch me but before he could, I smacked him, "Le taj muk'óolal jach amarga, ba'ale' u yich ch'ujuk 'Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet" I wink at him and begin to unzip my pants and drop them. Stepping out of them I stand dangerously close to him and whisper in his ear, "U a Cha' paax in ajawo 'You're permitted to touch my king' "
He abruptly picks me up which startles me, causing us both to laugh; he leads me to my bedroom closing the door behind him. Namor puts me down on the bed and steps back to take his shorts off exposing his erection. Unable to help myself I slide off the bed falling to my knees in front of him. Being face-to-face with his dick is quite a daunting experience, he's the biggest I've been with so I'm a little intimidated. When I look up though, I see Namor watching me, waiting in anticipation; just the thought of him at my mercy immediately washed away any anxiety that I had.
With a sudden rush of confidence, I take his cock in my hand and begin to slowly stroke him and eventually take him in my mouth. I started slow, taking him further and further with each bop of my head sneaking occasional looks up at him, watching his reactions.
I can tell he's holding back like he needs more, so I snaked my hand up his leg, lingering a bit on his ass, and eventually grabbing his hand and placing it on the back of my head, silently permitting him to let loose. He takes the hint and begins to take control, slowly face fucking me, going deep and deeper with each thrust.
"Fuck you're so beautiful like this," he says now grabbing my head with both hands fully losing control, grunting and moaning with every other thrust. Namor was hitting the back of my throat now causing me to gag a bit, and making me tear up. I'd never fucked like this before, it was intense, and the heartbeat in my pussy grew more feverish as Namor came closer to his climax. I look up at him making eye contact as I take my free hand and begin to touch myself, wanting to feel just as good as he does.
Watching me do this lewd act was all he needed to reach his climax; he began to pull out not sure if he should finish in my mouth but I held him in place. Namor gratefully takes the opportunity and begins to grunt through his teeth and say words that I couldn't understand, losing himself entirely as I take every last drop of him down my throat.
After collecting his breath he slowly pulls out of my mouth and wipes away some of his cum from my lips, "You mystify me," He says helping me up and kissing me.
Slowly he starts to walk me back to the bed and gently lays me down kissing me as he works his way down to my panties.
"My turn to take care of you Ki'ichpan." He says as he hooks my panties; pulling them down.
#Fanfic#Peter Parker#Spiderman#Black panther#Wakanda forever#Namor#Tenoch huerta#K’uk’ulkan#Original character#black girl oc#Namor x reader#Mcu shuri#Mcu namor#Mcu#Talokan trio#Talokan#Attuma attoye#Namora#Marc spector#Jake lockely#Steven grant#Wanda maximoff#Scarlet witch#Bucky#James buchanan barnes#Sebastian stan#Tom holland#Namor Smut#Smut
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