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#i love when she crosses her legs like that
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Winter's King 11
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: friday, my day, am i right?
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there? 
“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.” 
“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.” 
You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you. 
“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate. 
You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.” 
“You are not in Debray now,” he muses. 
You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him. 
“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance. 
“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.” 
“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--” 
“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.” 
You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.” 
You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone. 
“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.” 
You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment. 
“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...” 
“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?” 
You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath. 
“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.” 
“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating. 
He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain. 
“We may begin simple,” he intones. 
So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response. 
“You have a question?” He prompts. 
“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines. 
“I can tell,” he says brightly. 
You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks. 
“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles. 
He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait. 
“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.” 
“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter. 
“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides. 
“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.” 
He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.” 
You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do? 
⚔️
“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.” 
“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.  
“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.” 
You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair. 
“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--” 
“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.” 
“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.” 
“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.” 
You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?” 
You twist around to look at the door, then to him. 
“I will go wherever you command, your highness.” 
“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?” 
There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you. 
“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.” 
He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.” 
“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?” 
Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away. 
“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you. 
He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh. 
“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.” 
You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.” 
He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed. 
“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.” 
You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away. 
“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table. 
Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales. 
He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow. 
“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.” 
You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall. 
Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife. 
He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts. 
He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool. 
He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream. 
“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.” 
You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months. 
“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.” 
He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side. 
“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.” 
You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there. 
He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs. 
Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand. 
“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you. 
“A game, your highness?” You babble. 
He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.” 
Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king. 
“Your highness,” you utter. 
“It’s my command,” he says, “run.” 
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JJK FF/ ROYAL GUARD
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CHAPTER ELEVEN | SERIES
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 
Word count: 3k
Rating: 18+ smut
Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, dirty talk, crying, tears of happiness, lap straddling, a lot of pussy fingering, biting, nipple play, Jungkook groans a lot, full nakedness, big dick!jk, a little bit of rough French, neck kissing, hard orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys :D) - she probably pregnant by the time he is done with her - upss - also mentions of marriage, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. A lot of swearing, cursing and a little bit of crying. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!
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Still waiting in Jungkook’s chambers, you nervously fidgeted, your fingers picking up stray pieces of your dress whenever your leg bounced up and down, unable to calm yourself.
This couldn’t keep happening!
Everytime you think about what happened in the forest, it makes you tremble with fear. Your palms feel sweaty and your heart is beating loudly.
What if something happened to him?!
What if they caught him?! If anything were to happen to him...
You shook your head violently.
Stop thinking like this!
Taking a deep breath, you sat straight in the chair, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your lap, trying your best to control your breathing.
Just then, the door opened revealing a servant, the lovely octopus Moe, bringing in another tray of food.
“My lady, you need to eat something. You can’t go on like this,” he said softly, afraid that he overstepped his boundaries,” The king will be back soon, don’t worry.”
You smiled at him, “ Thanks but I’m not hungry,” trying to convince him otherwise, your stomach decided to complain with a grumbling sound loud enough for him to hear and you blush with embarrassment, not believing yourself for making those kind of sounds.
He tries to hide his surprise with a polite bow and leaves the room when he finishes setting up your late dinner since it was really late, the darkness outside having already started to cover the entire castle.
A couple minutes pass by when suddenly, the door opens with a bang which caused you to jump in your seat. A familiar man enters the room.
His whole armor was covered in blood, his wings torn in some places with dried blood on them. The sight makes you gasp when he steps into the room, the door closing behind him with a bang in the same way how it was opened.
Throwing the sword on the carpet, he doesn’t even notice you sitting there by the window when he removes his face mask, revealing his beautiful face full of bruises and wounds, the right eye already forming a blue bruise on his left cheek.
A sob escapes your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you stand from your seat and hurry to him.
Grabbing his wrist, you run your fingers lightly along the purple mark that now appeared on his skin.
“Why are you here so late? Did you get attacked? Who did that?!” You asked frantically, not knowing how he even got injured like this.
Do magic beings even heal faster like from the myths?
Jungkook looks at you in surprise for a second before his expression melts into concern when he notices your teary eyes.
“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He says reassuringly.
Relieved, you put both of your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, not caring whether or not you dirty your dress with his blood.
“I need to shower . You know I can’t stay with you smelling like blood,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head.
You nod, tightening your hold on him.
“Okay. But make sure to be careful. You can slip in there if it’s too slippery,” you warn him seriously and your words makes him smile at you, looking at you like you’re some wonder of the world.
“I will be extra careful and If I slip, I will call you,” he smirks with a teasing note in his promise to which you laugh and hit him gently.
“Stop making fun of me. I was worried about you when you went to fight vampires again. I thought that I will never see you again,” You said truthfully.
The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in response, showing that he understood your meaning.
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” He says, caressing your cheeks with the tips of his fingers.
Then without saying another word, he walks to the wardrobe and takes out his clothes before leaving again.
Since he went to shower, you decided to clean yourself too since your dress had bloodstains. Taking the change of clothes, you went to the other bathroom , washing yourself as fast as possible.
Once you were done, you quickly dressed in your nightgown and walked to the bed where you lay down, staring into space, your thoughts still filled with worry.
The image of him fighting in the battlefield flashed through your mind again making you shiver uncontrollably. Why did you insist on going outside the castle if there’s danger?
With a tired sigh, you feel hot inside. Fanning yourself, you go to the big window with the balcony doors and open them wide, letting the fresh air enter the room, allowing your mind to be free of any doubts.
Trying to relax, you closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. The last thing you wanted was to dwell on what happened earlier in the day.
After a while, you hear the bathroom door open and close softly. Not opening your eyes, your heart rate started to rise when you heard his footsteps approaching you.
He moved like a silent panther with soundless steps as it wasn’t him moving at all.
Feeling him behind you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to nuzzle your neck.
“I missed you, princess,” he purrs, nuzzling your neck affectionately, pressing kisses against the spot between your shoulder and neck.
You hum softly in return, letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning into his embrace, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his cologne and fresh scent enveloping you.
“I heard that you were a bad girl for me while I was away,” he murmurs, nosing the shell of your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His breath sends chills down your spine but he didn’t seem to mind at all as his lips brushed against your earlobe gently.
"It's my duty as your future husband and your king to punish my princess whenever she does something wrong," he adds huskily.
You feel confused,” What are you talking about?”
You feel him smiling against your neck,” You didn’t eat anything , so your body needs time to recuperate. I ordered Moe to bring you some food and a glass of wine and you haven't touched it,” he explains softly, rubbing circles on your back with one hand, the other hand resting gently on your hip.
You flush in embarrassment as you realize that he caught you. "I'm sorry."
"Don’t apologise. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone while you’re away,” he replies, his thumb brushing across the curve of your waist.
Your eyes widen as you turn around in his arms, your face only inches from his.
His eyes are blazing when he looks at you and the longer he holds eye contact, the faster you let your own drop down at your feet, too shy to see his intense stare directed at you.
“Now,now. Don’t be shy now, darling. I don’t bite,” he coos softly.
There is irony in those words because you both know that you have been bitten by him before so this sentence was necessary.
When you look up again, you lock your gaze on his black eyes, seeing his pupils dilate and his eyebrows drawn together with a sexy smirk on his lips.
Suddenly, his hands are grabbing yours, pulling you closer, his hot breathe tickling your face, forcing you to tilt your head upwards so he could kiss you more deeply.
Your hands automatically move up to his hair, holding onto him securely as he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping past your parted lips and exploring the inside of your mouth.
Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, still not breaking your stare.
“Are you still sore?” he mumbles quietly and you shake your head, trying not to giggle at his question, you were more than eager to feel him in you again.
Your hands roam through the soft locks of hair on the back of his head, slowly pulling him down until he connects his lips with yours again, kissing you passionately, his tongue invading your senses. His hands roam the rest of your body, leaving heated trails everywhere they touch.
His lips trail down to your jawline, grazing his tongue over it teasingly before biting the delicate flesh there. Making you moan in pleasure, you grab handfuls of his hair, tugging playfully.
His mouth moves from your jaw to your collarbone, sucking hard as he bites your skin once again, licking the area tenderly before moving his mouth further, finding the perfect place to leave a wet hickey under your collarbone.
Panting, he lifts himself from your body, giving you no choice but to open your eyes to look at his beautiful face as your eyes traveled down to his bare chest.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers with a sad little smile as he looks straight into your eyes.
Your heart clenches painfully as you take in his state.
“What do you mean?” You ask confused.
He shakes his head,” I have blood on my hands and you still let me touch you. If I wouldn’t be the king or your guardian angel, we would never be this close. You would never have been mine in the first place,” He says brokenly.
Your eyes welled up with tears at his confession as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You knew how he feels towards you and it kills you to see him like this because you love him.
Tears roll down from your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes locked with his.
“But you are my king, my guardian angel, my guard, my everything. And as long as I have you, nothing else matters. That includes blood and death and being forced to watch you kill anybody who threatens us or our family. We need to protect them and knowing that you try to protect me despite facing danger, that’s enough reason to marry you,” you confess with a small sob, burying your face into his neck.
He lets out a chuckle in disbelief, pulling you even closer to him.
“I’m glad you see it that way because I can’t wait to make you mine and you to finally be mine forever,” he replies happily as he pulls your face back to look at him.
Lifting a finger to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks with such tender care, you smile at him.
“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect man to be my husband,” you say lovingly.
Jungkook’s expression from warm to serious,” You make me do things to you if you keep saying these kind of sweet words , Y/N. How am I supposed to resist you now?”
You laugh at that and lean forward to press your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.
Before you can stop him, his hands lift you by the waist and he carries you onto the mattress, settling you in his lap, one of his hands traveling down to your leg while the other is holding you firmly around your waist.
Your eyes open wide in surprise at the sudden move and you feel him grinning at you wickedly before placing his lips against your neck again.
Your legs automatically wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him closer to you.
Your eyes fall shut tightly, overwhelmed by his loving touches and his soft kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.
“My queen, look at me,” he says quietly as he kisses your neck again.
Slowly opening your eyes, you find him gazing right at you with love filled eyes,” Look at me when I speak to you. You belong only to me and nobody else. Only me,” he declares.
Tears form in your eyes as you blink at him, feeling overwhelmed by his passionate declaration. You nod silently with tears filling your eyes.
His lips brush against your cheek softly as he brushes his thumbs on your tears, “I’ll shower you with affection everyday if it means that you don’t cry anymore.”
You let out a small laugh,” It’s tears of joy that will make me cry. I won’t stop crying. Because I’ve already cried enough times tonight alone,” you tease him slightly.
“No. No more tears. Not after tonight. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he states, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Leaning down, your gown’s right strap falls of your shoulder to reveal your pale flesh and even further when your breast is revealed completely. Your blush darkens and you bury your face in his neck.
His sharp breath makes you moan when he gets a clear sight of your bare nipple. Kissing your neck, his tongue hits your sensitive spot as he sucks your hardened tip lightly, making your knees weak and hands clutching on his hair.
You whimper softly, letting out small noises of pleasure as his lips travel lower down your body.
‘God, what is he doing?’ you think to yourself, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second.
Before you can question him, he slides your gown up your thighs till your bare pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.
“Jungkook-!” you exclaim breathlessly, your whole body tensing up with nerves and anticipation, anticipating his next move.
“Shhh, don’t talk. I haven't stopped looking at you,” he murmurs huskily before lowering his face towards you.
Kissing you on the lips, he traces a path with his finger to your entrance. You let out a gasp and he immediately takes control, thrusting in two fingers. The burning sensation shoots straight to your clit making you arch your body upward, making him groan loudly against your ear.
“Breathe. Just breathe for me baby girl,” he breathes out harshly as he continues to finger fuck you slowly but steadily.
You can’t help but to whimper as his fingers are moving slowly inside of you, driving you crazy.
His tongue then slips inside your mouth, his fingers still moving inside you, causing you to let out another low moan as his mouth covers yours aggressively, thrusting inside of you relentlessly.
Bucking your hips against his lap, you felt his erection pulsing under your ass beneath that towel. Since he was in the shower, he didn’t put on any clothes on.
Moaning from the pleasure, you could only hold on, almost to the point of pain, not knowing how long will you last.
“Jungkook, Oh, Jungkook,” you pant against his lips and then your guard lost it, seeing you so close to orgasm.
Ripping the towel off his body, there was a second of silence, only your harsh breathing was heard in the room when he
enters you roughly. Your eyes flutter closed in shock before opening back up when you realize how deep he was.
The sound of air hitting your ears was the only thing you could hear as he began thrusting slowly into you, stretching you in all ways possible. The feeling of his thick muscles squeezing around your insides sent waves of arousal shooting through you and soon you were moaning into his lips as his thrusts became harder and harder.
You were coming apart at his touch. Your toes curled in pleasure as your body shook in his hold, your nails digging in to his shoulders as you came undone.
Jungkook moans loudly as he watched you come undone in front of him. His own orgasm was approaching quickly too.
Enveloping you with his wings, you see only darkness with his eyes glowing white,” Oh, my God! Oh, god, oh, god..! Yes! Fuck!” You scream out loud, feeling his hard cock hit the spot in you where you needed him most. As you start to tremble with pleasure once again, your eyes widen realizing that you couldn’t take a break,” Oh, yes, yes…” you don’t know how you even lived without this feeling before but you can’t stop thinking about him being here, now, with you, giving you pleasure like nothing you had ever experienced before.
Jungkook was beyond thrilled at the sight of you. Every time you came undone at him it was the best feeling in the world.
Taking your throat, he hits the spot deeper when your eyes roll back and you almost pass out.
“Fuck!” He growls, not even stopping when he finds his own realise.
There’s so much seed that you feel it spilling on both of you which causes your vision to blur for a moment. A small gasp escapes your throat as you come undone yet again, making you moan in pleasure.
After you finally finish your climax and your walls start feel sore, you slowly sit up on his lap, your hand on his chest.
Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze so hazy with lust and love, it’s almost scary to see him looking at you like that.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.
“I will arrange a priest to come to the castle tomorrow,” he murmurs against your ear.
“For what?” you ask, not understanding his purpose.
“To marry you, of course. I want you to be mine forever,” he answers and his voice sounds rough and strained, like he has been running for miles.
From his words, your walls clench around his cock and he groans, burying his head in your neck,” You like that, baby? Knowing that you will be my wife,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.
Licking your wet skin, he lets his teeth nip softly at your exposed shoulder and you let out a soft moan as goosebumps cover your entire body.
“Yes.” You whisper in return, tightening your grip on his muscular shoulders and pressing yourself to him,” I would like that very much.”
“Then it's settled. We shall get married as soon as possible,” he mutters into your ear.
You smile happily before leaning closer and placing a quick kiss on his jaw,” Okay, husband.” But not before you bumped your nose against his.
Your guardian angel only smirked," We really need to stop bumping into each other."
Be continued…
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Luck Runs Out |Epilogue|
Pairing: Mabel x Reader
Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 4k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Epilogue
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Mabel heard her name called, she stood up, silently hoping the sleeves to her gown were covering her shaking hands, she had them bunched into fists, but it wasn’t helping much. She made sure to walk up the stage quickly but no too quickly, she had been practicing more than she cared to admit. She smiled as the man shook her hand and handed her the diploma.
She had done it; she had officially graduated. It was only an associate degree from a community college, but she had gone back to school, and she had done the work. As she made her way off the stage she smiled when her eyes landed on you in the crowd, you were standing up, clapping your hands, probably making more noise than anyone else. You told her it didn’t matter what kind of degree she got or what kind of school she went to, she should be proud of everything she accomplished because you certainly were.
“You did it!” You shouted when Mabel came outside, already waiting for her. You didn’t wait for her to get to you before you ran up, lifting her in your arms and spinning her around.
Mabel giggled at being lifted in the air. When you finally sat her down, she took off her cap and lightly slapped you on the shoulder with it. “You’re ridiculous,” she said through her laughter. She glanced around, seeing other graduates hugging and smiling with their loved ones as well.
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “You ready for your graduation party?”
She blushed ducking her head in your shoulder. “I told you I didn’t need anything like that.”
“And I told you,” you wrapped your arm around her, pulling her tighter against you. “It’s also a going away party.”
“I can’t believe we’re leaving tomorrow,” she mumbled as the two of you walked to her car.
You snatched her keys from her hands before she even got the chance to unlock the car. You untangled yourself from her so you could run to the car, opening the passenger door for her. “Your charity my lady,” you said with a bow.
“I hate you,” she said with affection.
“You love me.” You tilted your head, giving her that smirk you always gave her when you did something you knew would annoy her.
“Regretfully,” she mumbled, already leaning in to kiss you.
“Shut up,” you smiled before closing the distance.
She finally pulled away from the kiss to slip in the passenger seat. You peeked your head in to make sure her legs were in before shutting the door. She shook her head as she watched you run around the car to the driver's side. You quickly slipped in the driver's seat, started the car, then reached over taking her hand in your own. Whenever you were the one driving somewhere you always held Mabel’s hand, she learned that pretty quickly, no matter what, you always reached over to take her hand. You brought your intertwined hands to your lips, giving her fingers a soft kiss before backing out of the parking space.
“What if we just spent tonight at the apartment?” Mabel suggested, resting her head back against the headrest as she looked over at you.
You smiled at her question but never took your eyes off the road. “The guys are already waiting for us,” you reasoned.
“We could work on packing.”
You chuckled, shaking your head, she knew she wasn’t going to get out of this, but she was determined to try. “We’re already packed.” She let out a huff, crossing her arms before you let out an exaggerated sigh, she perked up, she didn’t want to get her hopes up but the idea that she might have gotten you to cave was too exciting. “How about we stay for a couple hours and if you still want to leave we can?”
Mabel nodded her head back and forth as if she was considering it. “Fine,” she grumbled.
A few minutes later you parked the car. Mabel looked out the window at the rundown bar, the same bar where she had met Charlie for the first time. She waited for you as you jumped out of the car and ran around to open her door again. You didn’t have to do it but for some reason it made you so happy and Mabel loved seeing that smile on your face. She rolled her eyes when you bowed once again, holding out your hand for her. She took your hand and allowed you to help her step out of the car and as usual you refused to let her hand go even if the two of you were just going to the door.
You pouted when she let go of your hand, but she wanted to take off her cap and gown. She tossed them in the backseat and was quick to grab your hand again, instantly making you brighten up. You led her to the door and allowed her to step in first. Mabel was greeted by cheers from the guys. It was just the two of you and the guys for the party, and were hardly the only ones in the bar but that didn’t matter, the guys had a couple tables in the corner saved which you were quick to drag her over to.
She continued to hold your hand under the table, playing with your fingers. Charlie slipped in the seat across from her, leaning over the table to whisper, “Congratulations.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” she said. Which was true, she had wanted to go back to school for some time but didn’t really consider it until she met Charlie. Charlie also took time to help her decide what to write her essay on and read it over before she submitted it.
Charlie scrunched up his face, waving her off. “Of course you could have.”
“A gift from the wife,” Costa said, setting down a large cake.
“Holy shit!” Mabel’s eyes widened, Anne-Marie went out of her way, the cake was amazing. It was pretty simple, but she had done it all by hand, she wrote Mabel’s name and congratulations across the top in gorgeous cursive and made a little cap and diploma out of icing in one corner.
“Drinks for everyone!” Nunes yelled as he and Tommy arrived with hands full of beer.
Everyone grabbed a beer while Charlie cut the cake and began passing out pieces. You let go of Mabel’s hand only to throw an arm around her waist, tugging her a bit closer to you. Mabel leaned into you, smiling as she laughed along with whatever crazy story Nunes was telling as she ate her delicious cake. If you couldn’t be holding her hand you found some other way of touching her or having your arms around her, she was never a physical touch kind of person but with you she didn’t mind, she actually missed your touch when you weren’t around.
She looked over at you while you were in a deep discussion with Costa, waving your fork around to help make your point. She was so lost in admiring you, she didn’t hear what you were saying but she was pretty sure it was about some movie or show, though you were being very serious about your discussion. You always got so serious when talking about something you were passionate about. There were times, like this moment, when she couldn’t believe that you were real, you were here, you were real, and she had been dating you for a whole year already.
So much happened over the year, after your first kiss, Mabel didn’t leave your side until the boat got back to port. At the docks they were greeted by the coastguard, she was terrified you were going to be arrested, the potential of all of you being arrested, including herself, didn’t cross her mind, she was only concerned about you. They didn’t arrest you though, the police were called in and you were brought down to the station for questioning. You somehow managed to sell the story that you weren’t on the boat with the rest of the crew when it exploded, you even admitted to your crew bringing in drugs. Mabel fully expected you to go away for life, to only have a future with you involving a glass window in between the two of you.
The drug operation your boss was running was so much bigger than she imagined, even though he was the boss here and you weren’t super involved in everything you were able to provide the authorities with enough information, location of the warehouse, how many workers there were, even some names, the type of drugs being brought in, and the amount and times you guys did runs. You provided them with everything they needed to bring down the biggest drug operation on the east coast. You were willing to pay for your wrongdoings, you had said you were hoping for a light sentence for your cooperation, but you were fully willing to accept jail time. Luckily for her and more importantly, for you, Charlie’s dad is an amazing lawyer and got you immunity.
Your ‘death’ was basically retracted and that was that. They managed to keep everything pretty hush hush so there wasn’t a target on your back. Besides your boss and crew, most people didn’t know who you were anyway, the one good thing your boss actually did was keep everything so secret. Everyone who could accurately identify you by photo, or name, and who knew exactly what you were involved with were all dead.
Mabel was by your side through it all and somehow you managed to take her on a real date. The two of you had been together since she kissed you, it was the longest relationship Mabel ever had and every day she fell in love with you even more. Sometimes you’d go out and have fun but then there were other times Mabel would have to stay in and study for a test or exams and you’d come over and silently sit next to her, reading or doing something else quietly. Mabel never knew how much she could enjoy just the presence of someone.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me with these knuckleheads,” Tommy said, bringing Mabel out of her thoughts.
You chuckled, taking a sip of your beer. “You did just fine before me,” you said.
Tommy scoffed, waving you off. “You choose,” he leaned across the table, pretending you were the only one that could hear him. “I’ll get rid of any of them.” He glanced to his side where Charlie sat. “Even him,” he nodded at his brother.
Charlie gasped, turning his full body to face his brother, his mouth wide open. Tommy ignored him, not even bothering to spare him a glance. Mabel felt your entire body shake with  laughter. “Sorry,” you gave him a sympathetic shrug.
Tommy grumbled into his beer. “You’ll have a job when you return.”
“If they return,” Nunes said, slinging an arm around Tommy. Tommy gruffly shrugged off Nunes.
Mabel chuckled along with everyone else. Despite your differences and the amount of times you antagonized the crew of the Finestkind Tommy allowed you into the crew. Your main source of income might have been from drug smuggling, but you were actually a decent fisherman. Mabel had been skeptical when you ran up to her telling her Tommy offered you a job. She kind of thought you just knew how the equipment worked, that you only did enough fishing to not raise any red flags. After your first run with the guys though she learned that you were actually very good at your job.
“I appreciate that,” you said, giving Tommy a grateful smile. “And we’ll be back,” you threw a straw wrapper at Nunes. “We just,” you turned your head and looked into Mabel’s eyes. She had her head resting on your shoulder and tilted it up so she could meet your gaze without moving. “Want to see the world first.”
Mabel leaned up, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. She quickly pulled away and went back to resting her head on your shoulder. She glanced across the table as you continued to talk to Tommy and the others, seeing Charlie swirling his beer around, his eyes completely focused on the movement. He glanced up when he felt Mabel’s eyes on him and gave her a soft smile.
Things were slightly awkward with Charlie when you and Mabel first started dating. Mabel knew he was still getting over the relationship but that didn’t stop him from trying to help you or her. Charlie was actually the one that called his dad and had him come down to the police station and be your lawyer. Mabel had been freaking out, she had no idea what to do but Charlie didn’t hesitate to step in and help the best way he could. He also vouched for you, telling Tommy you’d make a great edition to the crew. Charlie even admitted to Mabel a few months after the two of you started dating that he was wrong about you. He originally only saw you as trouble that would drag Mabel back into the world she had been desperate to escape but you ended up being exactly what she needed.
“When do you guys leave?” Costa asked, bringing Mabel back to the current conversation.
“Tomorrow morning,” you answered, smiling at Mabel.
“Bright and early,” Mabel mumbled, cuddling into your side. She felt more than heard your laughter. The two of you would be leaving in the morning but it was actually going to be closer to late morning, not right at sunrise, still earlier than Mabel usually preferred to be waking up, the things she did for you.
“Have they told you the name yet?” Charlie asked, joining in on the conversation finally.
Mabel flicked you a glare, making you try and hide your laughter by drinking more of your beer. “No,” she grumbled. The others all broke out into a laugh, making Mabel glare at all of them.
You kept your promise and only made Mabel stay at the party for a few hours. She was never going to admit it to you, but you were right it had been fun. She was glad to get to see the guys and have one last celebration before having to leave for your trip. That didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to finally leave and get a few hours of sleep. When the two of you left, the guys were still around the table, ordering more drinks.
The two of you fell into bed as soon as you got back to her apartment and slept until your alarms went off. Mabel helped you grab the bags and pack them into the car. She did a quick check of her place since it would be a while before she would be back, she was forcing Charlie to come by and check on the place at least once a week while the two of you were gone. Once she was satisfied and confirmed she had everything she needed she hopped into the passenger seat.
You smiled, taking Mabel’s hand as soon as she was in the car. Mabel silently chuckled, shaking her head, you were practically vibrating in your seat. You didn’t drive as crazily as her, but you were at the harbor before she knew it. You were out of the car and opening the door for her before she even had her seatbelt off.
The two of you walked hand in hand, passing all the other boats as you led Mabel to yours. Finally, the two of you came to your sailboat, you quickly let go of Mabel’s hand to turn around and raise your arms, gesturing with a wide smile at your sailboat. Mabel giggled, shaking her head at you. She had seen the boat plenty of times, but you still showed it off as if she was seeing it for the first time.
“Damn, she’s beautiful,” Charlie said, coming up beside Mabel.
You didn’t say anything, just nodded excitedly. You ran up to Mabel, taking her bag in your hand before taking off to board the ship. Mabel took the opportunity to hand Charlie the keys to her car. She couldn’t exactly bring her car on the boat and the two of you would be gone for a while, so she said Charlie was free to use her vehicle as long as he took care of it and checked on her apartment.
“If anything happens to my car,” Mabel said, pointing at Charlie. “I will kill you.”
“Yes ma’am,” he saluted her. She tilted her head, glaring at him. He quickly cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter. “She will be in perfect condition when you return.”
Mabel narrowed her eyes. “Good,” she smiled.
“Have fun,” Charlie whispered, pulling Mabel into a hug. “I expect lots of pictures.”
“Of course,” Mabel chuckled.
“Call whenever you get the chance.”
“Thank you,” Mabel pulled back from the hug, looking Charlie in the eyes. “For everything.”
Charlie shrugged, waving her off. “It was nothing.”
Mabel rolled her eyes; Charlie made it really difficult to give him compliments. They finished their goodbyes then Charlie ran off to meet up with Tommy. Mabel stared up at the boat, waiting for you to finish whatever you were doing, you didn’t want her stepping onto the boat until you revealed the name you came up with, the name you had been keeping secret from Mabel since you got the damn thing.
There was a part of her that couldn’t believe this was real, that this was her life now. After the charges were dropped and you were free and clear and completely healed from your wounds you finally followed your dreams and bought a sailboat. You used the bag of money that somehow managed to survive everything and you somehow managed to hold onto. You used it to buy a fixer upper sailboat and in your free time while Mabel was at work or school you worked on it tirelessly to make it into your dream boat. With the money you had left over, which was still a couple hundred grand you gave to the guys, telling them to split it amongst themselves or do whatever, saying it was a small gesture for helping save your life.
Now, you were about to set sail on your first real trip. You had taken it out a few times to make sure everything worked properly, and you wouldn’t sink before attempting a long voyage. Mabel had been out with you almost every time you took her out on the water. You gave her lessons in sailing, made her study how the boat worked and what to do. You could sail it for the most part on your own, but it was pretty big, and you’d need Mabel’s help on a few things. She was nervous about the idea at first, she had never attempted sailing before, but you knew your stuff and helped her pick up things fairly easily, you even let her sail on her own for a bit, while you stood nearby just in case something went wrong.
“Are you ready?” you shouted, holding your arms out wide.
Mabel nodded, watching as you ran across the deck to rip off the tarp you had covering the name of the boat. You had a name picked out as soon as you purchased the thing, probably knew what you’d name it before you had ever even met Mabel. For some reason you insisted on keeping it a secret from her though. She thinks it started off as a joke and after realizing how much it annoyed her not knowing you decided to just keep it a secret until your trip.
You ripped off the tarp revealing the Odessey underneath it. “Are you serious?” Mabel asked, smiling, and shaking her head at you. She couldn’t say she was surprised; it was your favorite book after all.
“I thought about Penelope,” you admitted, helping Mabel onto the boat. “And Odysseus.” You looked around the boat, admiring her beauty and all the hard work you put into her. “But The Odyssey just felt right.”
Mabel smiled as she quickly pulled you into a kiss. “We won’t have the same journey as Odysseus, right?” she abruptly pulled away from you.
“I hope not?” you shrugged. “I still think it would be cool to face a monster,” you mumbled. “No matter!” you smiled widely, stepping back from Mabel. “I have us covered.” Mabel raised an eyebrow as you slapped your pockets looking for something. “For you,” you smiled nervously when you finally found what you were looking for.
Mabel tilted her head at you holding out what appeared to be a little jewelry box. She tried to ignore the slight shake in her hands as she reached for the box. She gave you a shy smile as she flipped open the box, revealing a matching trident necklace to yours.
“I know it’s not really your thing,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as your eyes found the deck very interesting. “But-”
Mabele grabbed you by the shirt, pulling you in for a kiss. “I love it,” she whispered against your lips.
You smiled as Mabel turned around, moving her hair out of the way so you could put the necklace on her. She looked down seeing the little trident now dangling there then looked up to see nearly the same trident hanging around your neck. You had yours most of your life but you somehow managed to find one for her that was in the same style, the only difference was yours was silver while hers was gold.
“You don’t actually believe these will protect us, right?” Mabel asked, though she had a feeling she’d know what you’d say.
“All I’m saying is I haven’t died yet,” you said, raising your hands as if that was a reasonable defense.
Mabel opened her mouth to argue but she wasn’t sure what she’d say. You survived being shot and tossed into the ocean, somehow surviving for hours until Charlie and the crew found you. Then Mabel and the guys arrived right before you were about to be executed. You fought a guy underwater and won, you helped take out the others on the boat, and then once you shot a gas can, blowing up your boss and the entire boat, and still somehow survived without any major injuries. Mabel hated herself for thinking it but maybe the sea god really was on your side, even if your hero was a dude he hated.
You got behind the wheel of the boat and began to pull out of port. Mabel wrapped her arms around your waist, ducking her head as you moved your arm to have it around her while still holding onto the wheel. “Onward to Florida,” she said, looking up at you.
“Then to Greece,” you smiled, pulling her in for a quick kiss before focusing on the ocean ahead.
Mabel smiled, resting her head on your shoulder as she stared at the horizon in front of her. The two of you had to sail down to Florida first then after a couple days of refueling and re-supplying there you’d be able to head off across the Atlantic, finally living out your dream of sailing to Greece. You and Mabel had many trips planned, the intention was to sail around the world like you always dreamed of and to travel like Mabel dreamed of. There were more convenient places to sail to first besides Greece, but Mabel knew your dream was for your first destination to be Greece.
The trip down to Florida would take almost two weeks and then crossing the Atlantic would take almost a month. You planned to spend a couple months in Greece, sightseeing and sailing to a few of the nearby islands. From there the two of you would plan your next trip. Mabel had no idea where the two of you would end up, but she was excited to go on the journey with you.
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Random marauders headcanons!!
Sirius does not like physical touch unless it's a bro hug with James or Remus is touching him. He can make an exception if someones really upset tho
Regulus is one of those people who smoke then aggressively cough after. He tries to hide it when he smokes with Barty and Evan but he doesn't do great 😭
Barty is either sickly sweet to people (Pandora, Dorcas, Lily, Evan ect) or grabs at every opportunity to insult them (James, Sirius, not as much Remus funnily enough). And if he actually hates them he just punches them
Peter can breakdance strangely well??
Marlene doesn't wear makeup apart from an eyeliner pencil. Not in a pick me kinda way she just genuinely does not know what the fuck to do 😭
Regulus's favourite chocolate is white, and he loves sugar. Sirius is the opposite, he likes dark chocolate and doesnt mind sugar but it's definitely not his favourite
Dorcas is genuinely so sarcastic and funny, but Pandora does not understand sarcasm. My girl is confused
Peter is a silent judger. He will give you dirty looks and side eyes but if you ask what the problem is he's like 'nothingg...'
Mary really suits red and wears mostly that but she buys all her room decorations pink
Lily's favourite flowers are daisies. James always gets her Lilys and she finds it endearing, she doesn't tell him that tho (i love jegulus too don't bite me)
Majority of them smoke but Sirius, Remus and Barty do it most often. Remus doesn't like Sirius doing this. On the contrary, Pandoras never touched a cig in her life
Sirius and Regulus both have French accents, but Sirius's fades over the years. Of course, in some words he has a little French flair.
Pandora lets bugs crawl on her unless it's a hosile one. In that case, she gently scoops it of her and puts it where its safe
Lily and mary lie next to eachother in bed with facemasks on and they just sit in comfortable silence
Dorcas has really long natural nails. Her and Marls are both on the asexual spectrum so she doesn't need to trim them unless it's once in a blue moon.
Marlene sits cross-legged like a child whenever she can (same)
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acapelladitty · 2 days
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Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)
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Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard
Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.
(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
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Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.
Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.
Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.
"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"
"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?
"Do you want to have sex?"
In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.
"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"
Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.
"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."
"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."
Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.
"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."
Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.
"Why not? It's only sex."
Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.
Lucy Maclean.
Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.
It's only sex.
In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.
War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.
Not when he had to come home to Barb.
Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.
War never changes.
But he did.
And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.
Not for Lucy Maclean though.
She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.
"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."
Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.
"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."
"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.
"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."
He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.
It would be so easy to have her.
A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.
Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.
"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."
Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.
"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"
Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.
"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.
Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.
Goddamn Lucy Maclean.
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eggyrocks · 1 day
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bruised part five -> my person
m.list
♪ now playing: remember by alex g ♪
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Iwaizumi's certain he's being punished. Some kind of penance for a transgression in a past life.
Her arms are wrapped loosely around his neck, and his arms are hooked under her knees as he carries her towards their apartment on his back. And he can feel too much of her: her cheek resting against his shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against his chest, and the warmth of her breath on the skin of his neck.
It makes it harder to focus. It makes him want to forget about how it was Bokuto's shoulder she was resting on when he arrived to bring her home. And that's something he won't let himself forget.
And as if she can hear this thoughts and decides she wants to torment him, she squirms, nuzzling in closer to him, and whispering softly, "Haji," in his ear.
He swallows before he answers. She's the only one who calls him that. "What's up?" he asks, trying not to let his rising heartbeat or twisting nerves seep into his voice.
"This is like," she starts, and then pauses, blowing out a hot stream of air that lands right on Iwaizumi's neck and goes straight down to his gut, "fucking, the millionth time you've picked me up drunk."
"Yeah," he agrees with a chuckle. "Well, you're a sloppy drunk."
She offers up a hum in agreement. "You must really fucking love me to put up with me this much."
Iwaizumi thinks that his heart leaps up into his throat, for just a second. "Of course I do," he confirms. "You're my best friend, dumbass."
There's nothing she has to say in response. She turns her head to bury her face in the fabric of his shirt. The rest of their walk back is silent.
It's only a few more minutes before they arrive home. Iwaizumi doesn't let her down once they cross through their front door and he kicks off his shoes. He ignores the smug sort of look that (the somehow still awake) Kyotani tosses in his direction and brings her directly to her room.
He thinks that she's asleep by the time he deposits her on the edge of her bed, and he's ready to throw a blanket over her and slink back into his own room. But the second he places her down, a hand goes tight around his shirt, and she yanks Iwaizumi down to lie beside her. "Stay with me tonight," she says, not once opening her eyes as she lays her head down on his chest and wraps an arm around his middle. "Like when we were kids."
It's not anything like when they were kids. When they had sleepovers and she managed to convince them both that there were ghosts and demons lurking, and they needed to stay together for protection. Or when her parents would fight and she would sneak through his window, staying the night with him just so she wouldn't be alone.
It's not anything like that, Iwaizumi thinks, as he hesitantly settles back against her pillows, and places his arm over her shoulders. "At least take your shoes off," he mumbles.
Through the darkness of her room, he can almost see the way her legs shuffle and struggle to kick off her still tied shoes. But she does so without ever lifting her head away from his chest, flicking her ankles so her shoes soar across the room, landing in a spot they're almost certainly not supposed to be.
She sighs, content, and wiggles in place, like she's trying to settle in deeper to him. "Did you know," she starts, voice heavy with sleep and intoxication, "that you've always been my person?"
Iwaizumi looks up at the ceiling. Shadows from the light outside her window shift and reshape. "Whaddya mean?" he asks, barely a whisper. He wonders if she can hear his heart beat.
"I dunno," she mumbles. "You're just my person. Like, our lives are so intertwined. I dunno who I'd be without you. Like, if you disappeared from my life tomorrow, I dunno how much of me would be left. I'd be like, a new person, y'know?"
And there's no one she'd pick over you.
Iwaizumi breathes evenly and deliberately. There would've been a time in his life, and maybe it was pretty recently, that those words would've made his chest swell up with pride. Because of course he's her person. She's always been his. That's how it's always been. It's always been them.
But now, the words twist in his chest like a knife.
I don't think she'd have room for a romantic partner that's not you.
"Don't worry about that kind of thing," he says, turning on his side, facing her and pulling her into a tighter embrace. "I got you."
Her voice is muffled, so he almost doesn't hear it when she says, "I know."
Tonight, he can be selfish. Tonight, it can be just them. He can hold her in his arms and he can't pretend that things don't have to change. Tomorrow, he will make room. But tonight, it's just them.
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an: enjoy this written part :) i loved to write it. also im still working on the 500 follower requests dont worry
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @hikikaimar @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @causenessus @frootloopscos @0moonii @ekeio @milkwithspicyicecubes @michivrse (please complete this form to be added, it is the only way to be added)
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Ran over here as soon as i could!
Imagine Tan with his baby girl (4 years) and shes playing with his hair, putting clips and bows and ties in his hair or making tiny braids? Mum an Lem are trying not to laugh out loud when they see them, Lem asks his niece if she wants make-up which she finds a such a great idea! Mum has to stop Lemon. Tan trying his best not to upset his baby girl. And so on and so forth...
Have fun with it🍊❤️🫶🏻
this is the cutest!!! I forever love dad tan!! and with all dad tan stuff, mandy is his daughter (it’s like mandarin, another baby orange) thank you for requesting, hope you like it 💌
BOWS AND BRAIDS.
dad tangerine x fem!reader — fluff
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word count. 532
Lemon and Tangerine often acted like they were twelve - the everlasting phase of wanting to annoy each other, joining them into adulthood. They were the others' biggest windup, and now Lemon was having the fun poking at Tan, knowing there was nothing he could do to retaliate. 
Uncle Lem had popped by to see you all - to spend time with his family during the week off. All gathered in the living room: you on the sofa beside Lemon, Mandy, your daughter, sitting on the coffee table with Tangerine cross-legged on the floor facing her. 
Mandy had her tiny hands in Tan's hair, placing accessories and ties in his curls - cutesy pink and purple clips attached in clumps around the front of his face, messily placed bows at the back of his head and knotted half-braids starting midway through his hair. It was admirable, really.
"Don't daddy look pretty," Lemon teases, crouching beside the coffee table to get closer to Mandy. "He'd make a pretty girl, won't he?"
"No," she shakes her head, shoving her finger into Tan's moustache. "He has a hairy face."
You resist the temptation to laugh, instead leaning closer, resting your elbow on your knee to cover your mouth. 
Lemon snickers before continuing, watching the displeased expression grow on his brother's face. "That's right. You should shave it off, Mands. Make him all pretty looking."
Your eyes widen. "No, no, absolutely not. We're not doing that."
"Boo, mummy. Mandy boo her," Lemon eggs your daughter on, lovingly brushing over her face.
"Why can't we shave him, mama?" Mandy asks, turning around to look at you, her face sweet and innocent. 
"It makes him look pretty. You know how it doesn't make him a pretty girl? Well, it's the same thing. He's not a pretty boy without it," you tease, looking over at Tan. Your words are harsh, but nothing like the soft, loving expression on your face. 
"Do I not get a say?" Tangerine adds, looking between you all with lightly furrowed brows. 
"No. You're a mannequin. Mannequins can't talk," Lemon pipes in, immediately dismissing his twin. "How about some make-up instead, Mand? That'll make him pretty."
"Yeah," she smiles, her grin wide and genuine. "Mama has some," she adds, climbing off the coffee table. 
"What a great idea," Lemon encourages, standing up to follow after his niece.
You look over to Tan, noticing the 'help me' face he is giving you - silently asking you to stop it.
"I think daddy's had enough for now, no? He looks so pretty, and you did such a good job," you pick your daughter up, placing her on your lap - kissing her cheek. 
"Mands," Tangerine calls, dragging out her name. "I just had the best idea," he looks between you and Lem knowingly, a small smile forming. "We should give Uncle Lem a makeover, too. Wouldn't that be fun?" 
She gasps, her face lit up in excitement, grinning as she climbs off your lap. Tangerine stands, following his daughter. 
"I'll help you, poppet. We'll get all your mum's make-up, yeah?" he chuckles, hitting his brother on the way out. "He's gonna look so pretty when we're done."
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cookie-crumblr · 1 day
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F!Bimbo Reader x Bugkeeper Yandere OC
A nipple clamp fueled daydream i had~
!!!MINORS DNI!!!
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CW: F!Reader, reader referred to as she/her, reader has a vagina, nipple play, nipple clamps, exhibitionism, pet names for ready (precious butterfly,), beyond Stockholm, reader is in shackles, public fingering, public sex(in a fitting room),unprotected sex, cum eating not proofread.
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EEEEEEP! I just bought some nipple clamps with little chains on them and i’m so excited to wear them around like under everythingggg and OMG PLZ…. IM DROOOLINGGG🙈🙈🙈
status: together
You didn’t tell him, you somehow snuck it into your amazon order without him seeing. And they’ve arrived and he didn’t even check the boxes this time!
You’re so excited an entire flock of butterflies fill you dangerously to the brim.
He loves to make you happy above everything else. He takes you shopping all the time, making sure you always get to be covered in the latest fashions and showing you off properly.
You have a surprise for him today when he takes you out.
You get a low cut dress, one that goes almost to your navel, and put it on… Excitedly you take your pretty mounds out one at a time and attach little gold clamps with several delicate chains connecting the two.
The pressure is already divine and has you panting little foggy splotches onto your mirror. But you give the center of the chain a little tug to test it and “Ah!~” Oh gods!
This is gonna be fun! You can’t wait to tell him about the ones with a clit clamp attachment and a collar!!! wheeewww! calm down a little! you’ll spoil the fun before it’s even began! One thing at a time.
Oh but he’ll have the most fun with the collar attachments!
You smack your cheeks lightly to despell the enchantment that dream casts over your mind.
“Oooooh Enixxxxxx!!!! I’m ready, darling!!” You call and bust through the door, arms held up and ready for him to unlock the shackles. The sensation of fabric running over your nipples is already driving you mad! these things are amazing!
He pushes up his glasses, chuckling at your adorable behavior, “Alright precious butterfly,” his hands are soft and clammy as always. He’s so cute and always so nervous even still. No matter how good he is at hiding it.
Black hair falls into his face, and you reach up to push it behind his ear. His dark skin darkens another shade more crimson.
His hands come around yours and your body, his mouth comes dangerously close to yours, brushing past it he’s moves to your ear.
“What are you wearing there, Butterfly, hmm~?” He brushes a thumb over your hard and squeezed nipple.
In shock you let out an “Ah!” at the jolt of ecstasy that sent through you.
“My, my, so sensitive, what is this?” He pulls the fabric away for your chest enough to see the metal squeezing you, and the chains he thought were a long necklace at first. “Trying to be sneaky huh?”
He pulls his touch away from you and faces the door, leaving you with pangs of longing and and a frigid loneliness. You whine, and he turns back to you, “Butterfly, we’re going out, wasn’t that your original plan?” He smiles feigning innocence.
“You’re cruel!” You call after him and follow along.
He doesn’t help you into the van like usual, instead he sits at the wheel and hungrily watches your every uncomfortable movement. The pressure is already becoming too much for your poor nipples.
You want desperately to touch yourself, or better yet be touched.
Your hand flies down and your legs spread, when he grabs your wrist.
“Nope.”
You’re big puppy eyes widen and you pout at him, “wha?”
“You did this to yourself, Butterfly, now i get to watch you squirm,” he says coldly.
Shivers run down your spine, “What happened to that shy guy that couldn’t get out one word without stammering around me, huh?” You poke his cheek.
“You love this me more, admit it.” He says with a smile, but you frown.
“I like every you, so far” You cross your arms and immediately pull your arms away from your chest with a shudder of pleasurable pain.
the car ride is too long and uncomfortable you squirm and writhe begging to take them off for at least a little while, all while Enix just smiles wickedly next to you.
He helps you out of the van at least, his hand on the small of your back, his other holding yours to steady you.
He suddenly brings his head down to your chest, moving aside the cloth over you before lightly sucking on your pinched nipple.
You try weakly to push him off, “Ooh! Enix! S’too much!”
“And who’s idea was this now hmm?” He kisses your clavicle, pausing there, he says: “You should have gotten one with a collar…”
A chill runs down your spine.
He pulls you along next to him, and grabs your ass.
You walk to your favorite Italian tailor’s, you’re giddy as you step through the door and find it more filled with people than usual.
It’s a pretty exclusive place… But you’re excited that there’s more people around today.
You exhale loudly on accident. All the pressure on your buds is starting to hurt!
Soon you’re walking through the aisles, shaking and reaching up to your chest, hoping to get rid of the pressure.
Enix stops you, and you continue to shake in his grasp. “Enix please,” you whine.
His hand slowly climbs your arm, up your shoulder, his chest presses against your back and he leans down to whisper into your ear“You wanted this, Butterfly,”
His other hand brushes gently over your exposed flesh, up your arm, over your shoulder, down the edge of your plunging neckline until he gets to the first chain and lifts it, just readjusting where the pressure is angled.
You sigh, “Eniix”
“I love it when you say my name,” He gently takes the chain back down, grabbing the next chain along with the first and lifting it up next.
The pressure shifts slowly again, and the pleasure along with it, rolling over you slowly.
You feel him slip his other hand up your dress, slowly getting to that burning place inside you.
He doesn’t leave you empty for long, his slender fingers pierce you and his thumb and palm play with your clit.
“Enix! What if someone sees!?” out of breath, you manage a hiss.
“Nobody will, Butterfly, I’m watching” You remember he’s like six foot something, he slouches so badly, you always forget he’s so tall! Of course he can see over the racks.
He keeps dipping into you ferociously, while he holds the chains up and relieves some of the pressure. giving you even more pleasure where you need it. “Mmmmf!”
The heat builds in you, desperately climbing to its peak, he speeds up, he knows your close. Wet with your slick he rubs all the way out over your clit and then back inside of you and curling.
You cum on his long fingers, he brings them to his lips. He licks your essence off languidly, a moan rumbles in his throat.
He pulls you along to the fitting room, luckily nobody’s using it for adjustments.
“Butterfly, let me relieve you first,” her kisses you all along the jaw and neck and shoulder slowly takes your dress off. and then removes the clamps.
He takes each over sensitive bud into his mouth and gently rolls his tongue over them.
“Oh my gods!” You moan, as he keeps up his delightful assault.
The tenderness after the harsh prolonged torture feels like a dream.
He’s making your body burn up again!
“Butterfly,” He lifts your leg, and pushes you against a wall. “Fuck” he presses his length into you and your eyes cross. It feels like he’s pushing in forever and you get to be so fucking full even by the half of it! He stretches you to perfection.
His hand wraps around your throat, as he’s pelting your insides with rough thrusts from his massive member.
“Yes! Enix!!” You hold on to him for dear life as he fucks the shit out of you.
Your spongey walls flutter and contract around him, right before he shoots ropes of his hot load into you.
“I don’t want to pull out,” his voice is gruff and low. he keeps rocking his hips slower now, basking in your pussy and the afterglow of post orgasm bliss.
“We have to go back out,” You tell him.
He slips out of you, still rock hard. “You’re unfortunately right,” his cum seeps out after him.
He swipes your slit and collects some of himself, and then brings his fingers up to your lips.
You eagerly suck on them, he fixes your dress and hair for you, and you get back to the floor.
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eetherealgoddess · 6 hours
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can you one with mikey where he is deeply in love with reader but she is oblivious and one night his dark impulses take control of him and he fucks he in her sleep??? love your content btww
thank you!! hope this turned out the way you wanted!! <3
ꨄTemptationꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Mikey Au
❦You didn’t know how tempting you were to those dark eyes❦
Sano Manjiro x Reader
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Not fully proofread!
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Temptation
The moonlight gleams through the cracked curtains, shining over the bed as a figure lies underneath the white comforter. You slumber, snug and warm as you lie on your stomach, one leg lifted as well as both of your arms though with bent elbows. Your other leg is planted straight down as your cheek meets the pillow. Light snoring echoed throughout the room as well as steady breathy. You were oblivious to the eyes gazing over your limp frame. He’s kneeled on the floor as his head lies on top of the arms that are crossed on the mattress in front of your face. His blonde strands hovering over his face, disheveled from his lack of care considering his sleepless nights.
Ever since he found a way to break into your room despite you still living at home, he hasn’t been able to keep himself away. He likes to visit you at night. It helps with easing the dark thoughts he succumbs to when he tries to fall asleep. His past haunts him, entrapping his mind with nothing but dark whispers of various impulses. The intrusive thoughts sneak up on him as a snake would before snapping the venom in their prey, trailed by the shadows of darkness looming over his back and reminding him that all he is meant to experience is suffering.
Ironically, sneaking into your room at night gives him a sense of normality. He can’t help but to live in the moment once you’re in the picture. A sane person wouldn’t think twice of you, having accidentally bumped into one another which resulted in you apologizing before running off. It didn’t make sense why he decided to follow you the rest of the day or command one of his gang members to search for more information about you. It doesn’t make sense why there isn’t a day he goes without thinking of you.
Maybe it was the sense of normalcy or distraction from his inner world. Maybe it was the qualities you had as a person that he found interesting after looking into you. The fact is that he is mesmerized by you. It’s been months since you first met, the accidental shove forever leaving a ghostly tingling sensation on his arm. He sits up for a moment, resting his elbows against the bed as both of his hands tangle through his hair, holding up his head as he eyes you with a half lidded gaze.
After a moment he stood up before slowly pulling the cover back, deciding to see more of you to get his fill. He gazed at your body that only consisted of a t-shirt and shorts. He loved to see the fabric of your bottoms wrapped tightly around your curves which is why his favorite nights are when you have them on.
He figured out that your sleeping habits vary. Sometimes he’d get there and you were in the middle of changing, scrolling through your phone, or… sometimes even catching you in the middle of a session with your sex toy. The tree next to your window and the space in your walk-in closet as well as the placement of your bed from across made those specific nights a lot easier to observe.
He uses a hand to caress your back gently before slightly lifting your shirt to reveal the skin on your lower back. His palm rubbed along the crease in which your derrière and back meet, squeezing your side before continuing his strokes, staring at your face cautiously. He bit his lip as he squeezed you once more, firmly as he watched your nose scrunch. He released your skin as he felt a tightness form in his pants.
It wasn’t his first time gaining an erection simply from gazing or touching you. In fact, there have been times he had rubbed his tense cock in your closet as you were watching porn, both of you orgasming together as he edged himself until you were ready for release. He’s used your clothes as towels and stole them. He’s also jerked off sitting right in front of you as you sleep on the bed, imagining all the different ways he can have his way with you.
The way your legs tense when the toy hits that spot that sends you into convulsion, your moans filling the air as well as the curses as you grind out your orgasm. Sometimes you’ll even repeat your sessions back to back, in search of the relief he wants to provide for you. He palmed his bulge as he reminisced those favorable moments. He looks down and gazes at his own hard on, his hair hovering over his face with his lips slightly parted as a red hue forms on his cheeks.
“Shit.” He whispered, feeling the overwhelming urge to climb on top of you. He just wanted to take a look at your wet pussy again. Leaning over to where he uses a hand to slide the leg nearest to open to gain a better viewpoint of your covered vagina. The tight shorts caused an imprint to outline the frame of your center. He glanced at you before gently connecting his fingers with your pussy, rubbing over the slit. He watched you as his middle finger moved to where your clit is hidden under the shorts, applying a still pressure to test the waters. Your hips twitched as you slightly readjusted but your eyelids stayed shut.
His fingers slid until he reached in between your ass cheeks, grazing over your covered anus before removing his hand all together. His torso bends over, crawling until he climbs over your legs. His hands connect with your shorts before he slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked bottom half as he tossed them to the side. He scoots to a better position over your legs and cupped both of your butt cheeks, squeezing and using his thumbs to caress the skin before spreading your labia with his fingers still planted on your ass.
He glanced at you to see your sleeping figure once more before he released you and shoved a hand into his pants. He lowers the lining of his underwear before pulling his cock from his pants. Deciding to ease some of the tension, he positions himself closer to your ass, using a hand to spread a cheek before pressing his cock in a downward position to where he could feel his head against your warm pussy.
He released a quiet grunt before lowering his torso on yours, basically hugging you as he eased his arms under yours, pressing his hips against you as he held it there. He thought he would have enough self control to not go all the way in since he just needed to feel you. It felt so good to feel your body against his, soft and warm. As time went on it was beginning to feel a little too good. He pressed down his hips before pulling back and repeating the same motion slowly in an attempt to not wake you up. He pants as the feeling becomes too hard to handle.
Deciding to just use the head of his cock, he licks his hand before lathering up his girth and using his fingers to position himself to your already wet vagina. He pushes forward slowly, your labia popping open wider as his tip stretches your hole. He accidentally released a moan as his head dropped, arms slightly shaking as they balanced himself over your figure.
“Oh fuck.” He hissed as he pushed in just a smidge more of a distance than before, stopping himself before he continued. It already feels like your pussy is sucking him in, the walls tightening the part of him already inside of you.
“So warm.” He groaned as he sat up more, breathing heavily with his lips apart as his head fell back. You slightly squirm against him as you attempt to reposition yourself, your leg that was bent moving down to where your feet are parallel. You wince as you take a deep breath before the slumber takes over once more.
He’s had to wait so long for this. He was having a hard time thinking rationally as all he wanted to do was shove his cock inside of you as deep as possible before forcing you to take all his cum. His hands reach the skin of your back under the shirt. His hips twitch back before he pushes back in, only his tip immersed in your walls. He can feel your pussy releasing more juice from the stimulation. Everything felt so hot.
He couldn’t take it anymore, lowering his upper body as he repositioned one of his arms under you and the other hand covering your mouth, lifting your head slightly. Your eyes finally flutter open into a squint, only just coming back to reality as you feel a heavy weight above you as well as a pressure from below.
“Forgive me, Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the low whisper before the hand tightens around your mouth and someone leaves a kiss on the back of your head before you feel a sharp pain in your core, causing a muffled grunt to leave your mouth as Mikey’s hips lock against yours in a swift motion.
He moaned when his hips smacked against your ass. You whimper at the pain as you attempt to push against the bed in an attempt to throw him off of you. You failed miserably, not even being able to move from your position because of his immense strength overpowering you from atop. You couldn’t even turn your head to see who the culprit is forcing themselves upon you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grunt loud from another hard impact from his thick cock.
“G-get off of me!” You attempt to scream but his hand only muffled your speech. Both of your bodies rock as he gains rhythm, his hair flailing as he grinds against you.
“Shhh.” He nibbles on your ear as he makes an attempt to quiet his own moans, not wanting to risk your parents walking in though if it happened, he wouldn’t have a problem with ridding himself of the inconvenience of their presence.
“M’ gonna find it and make you feel so fucking good, Y/n.” He says in your ear, forcing his fast strokes in deeper as he searches for the spot that has you quivering when he watches. Your nails impale the sheets as your grip tightens, the pain having resided once he found the spot, a moan escaping your lips.
“There it is.” He smirks before pressing his head against yours and closing his eyes. He continuously aimed to kiss your cervix as his head dropped to your neck, his lips connecting with the skin before he thrusts harder, rutting against you as he humps your backside. His cock is suffocated by the warm gummy walls inside of you, your juice lathering him as a natural lube as you reflexively push your ass against him, meeting his thrusts as your nipples harden against the bed.
“Th-this isn’t right!” You try to speak once more, struggling to push yourself off the bed as he adds more weight to your form, cock rubbing along your inner lining as your g-spot is assaulted. “I don’t even know you!”
“The only thing…” he breathes, “…that matters is my lo…” He pants as his eyebrows furrow before the smacking of his hips against your body becomes louder as he brings you both closer to your orgasms, his tip beating hard against your g-spot. You release a loud grunt followed by a moan as your hips move against him desperately.
“Ah fuck, baby this feels so good.” He hissed before his lips fell apart. Lowering his head, he rests it against your shoulder as he fucks into you with firm yet fast strokes. You bite your lip as your eyes shut tight, your hips bucking as you release a desperate moan, a wave of pleasure engulfing your abdomen as you orgasm on the stranger’s thick cock.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispers before his grip on your face and shoulder tighten, his hips rocking as he thrusts out his orgasm. You both pant as you catch your breath, his cock still inside of you before he slowly pulls his hips back causing a grunt to leave you both. You feel him kiss your shoulder and neck as your eyes widen in horror at the realization of your circumstances as he releases your mouth.
“W-who are you?! Y-you j-just…” You try to turn around to get a look of him but he only pressed your head against the pillow.
“When we get to know each other better, I’ll explain. For now, just know that you’re my wifey, okay?” He smiled, ignoring the look of confusion and fear that appeared on your expression.
“I-I don’t even know you! HE-!” He covers your mouth once more and leaned to your ear.
“I don’t want to kill your parents, Y/n. So don’t make me, okay? I’d like to meet your family properly.” Tears stream down your face as he tells you to close your eyes. You comply, shutting them tight as you feel his weight shift before completely disappearing.
“See ya next time.”
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tbh i liked the request but idk if i liked how i wrote it
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bethecliche · 11 hours
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my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!reader
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summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.
you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.
The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.
What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.
Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.
All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.
He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.
As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.
“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.
His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.
“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.
His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.
“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”
Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.
“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”
They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.
The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.
He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.
Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.
He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.
In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.
“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.
The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.
He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.
After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.
“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.
Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”
“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”
Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.
The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.
They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.
That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.
They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.
Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.
Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.
And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.
Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.
“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”
The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.
The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.
One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.
“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”
When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”
They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.
Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).
It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.
“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”
Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”
“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”
She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.
“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”
Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”
This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.
Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.
The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”
For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.
“It feels like my home.” She whined.
“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.
In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.
“Are you…”
“I want you to move in with me.”
The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.
In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).
The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.
“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”
“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”
“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.
There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.
Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.
It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.
“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.
Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.
He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.
“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.
"What?" He retorted.
“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”
Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”
Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.
“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”
Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.
The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.
There was no other answer than yes.
The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).
Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.
“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.
“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.
He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.
“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”
Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.
“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."
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butmakeitgayblog · 21 hours
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Can I flip the anon question? What are those moments where CI Lexa finds Clarke adorable? :3
Honestly when Clarke is just being entirely too much Clarke for anyone's own good lol
Because see, on the flip side, Clarke is an extremely tactile partner. Clarke is the wife who kisses and holds hands everywhere they go. Who will curl herself up into Lexa's side like a little mangy cat desperate for love. Who will just open herself up whenever Lexa feels like silently crawling into her lap and draping herself all over Clarke for no reason other than to feel close. Clarke's loving side with her is kind of their baseline, so it's when she does things that surpise Lexa that really grab her attention.
Something as stupid as Lexa being gone for a business trip and aching for that familiar touch that usually fills her days, so in a moment of weakness she texts "I'm in a meeting that's so boring I want to kill myself. Entertain me, my darling? Send a video of you pleasuring yourself. I want to watch."
It's her favorite thing to do in these stuffy meetings. The baited breath and anticipation making her antsy, crossing and uncrossing her legs because Lexa truly hates being patient when it comes to watching Clarke get off.
Only to click open the goddamn video... and find her wife sensually eating a slice of fucking pizza, making those obscene moans and biting her lips and licking her fingers like its the most erotic experience of her life.
And it's so stupid. It is so fucking stupid, and yet such a perfectly asshole-Clarke thing to do it has Lexa hiding a smile behind her fingers so that the very boring businessmen peppered around the conference table don't realize that she's not, in fact, just the emotionless cutthroat head of the Woods' Empire. That she's actually just a woman hopelessly in love with the same fucking idiot who has kept her on her toes every day since the first second they met.
That's what does it for Lexa. Because Clarke is a lot of things: ruthless, cruel, unyielding and filled the most delicious kind of ill-intent. She loves more fully and wonderfully than she gives herself credit for, and is forgiving even when Lexa's not sure if she deserves it. But what keeps Lexa falling in love over and over again, what makes Lexa's heart pound, is the brightness in her. The silliness, the funniness, how clever she truly is. It's the playfulness that she keeps hidden behind the darkest pieces of her heart that only Lexa is ever allowed to see
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hi hi it’s me again😇
this is an oddly specific request of mine but i just really wanna be a cowgirl LMAO
what about something where jj brings r (girlfriend) to finally meet the team, and it turns out r is literally just a cowgirl from texas with a proper southern drawn and a twang in her voice n all. nobody expected that country girls would be jj’s type but when the team sees just how in love she is with r it all makes sense.
thank you sm babe, hope ur good, luv ya!🫶🏻
Southern
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pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader
category: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 826
summary: you're jj's girlfriend from texas and you're meeting her team for the first time
a/n: hiiii i missed you 🫶🏼 i love you too and i hope you're doing ok! also...i kinda wanna write a part 2 with smut...let me know if you're up for that but i'm gonna assume it's a yes
"Are ya sure they'll like me?" I put my hands on my hips while JJ kissed my cheek.
"Of course they'll like you baby. You're amazing." I bit my lip and fixed my flannel a bit. The first three buttons were undone and the bottom of the shirt was tucked into my jean shorts. "Let's just go, ok?"
"Ok." I sighed as she grabbed my hand, pulling me into her friends apartment.
"Hey everyone! This is my girlfriend...y/n." JJ introduced me with an arm around my waist, keeping me close.
"Hi!" They all said almost at the same time.
"Hey y'all!" I turned to JJ with a rosy blush. "Now what do I do? This feels awkward." I leaned into her.
"That's because Derek is staring at your boobs."
"Don't get yourself all tore up about it. I know my assets." I pecked her lips, feeling her smiling into the kiss.
"Where are you from?" I pulled away from the kiss and looked towards a raven haired lady who had asked the question.
"Texas. Do y'all have any Coke?"
"Mhm. Right over here hon." A happy blonde lady led me over to the kitchen. I saw a bunch of soda cans sitting on the table so I picked up a Sprite. "I thought you wanted a Coke."
"Yeah. Coke. Soda is Coke where I'm from." I explained, taking a sip. "I've never been to the north."
"You haven't?" She crinkled her nose while smiling and I almost jumped when I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist but then relaxed when I realized it was JJ.
"If it wasn't for this girl I would still be down south." I took another sip of my soda, leaning back into my girl.
"She likes it up here." JJ kissed my cheek. "We're gonna go up to Boston next weekend."
"Yeah?" Penelope sat down on the couch and I soon realized everyone else had made their way into the room.
"Hey y/n. I'm Spence. It's nice to meet you." I shook hands with a tall lanky brunette. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.
"I'm Derek. But people call me Morgan." I shook his hand and smiled. So this was the guy that was staring at my boobs, and he still was. I might as well put on a little show for him. I unbuttoned my shirt a bit further before looking back at JJ. She blushed before pulling me down onto a chair so I could sit on her lap.
"Jareau, I didn't know cowgirls were your kind of thing." Morgan smirked before sitting down next to Penelope. I felt a twang of insecurity in my chest but I pushed it away, wrapping my arms around JJ's shoulders and holding her close. I was big on PDA and when I found out JJ's love language was physical touch I used it as much as I could, wanting to make her feel loved.
"Well I've never met someone as special as her. So she's definitely my thing." She gently caressed my waist with her thumb.
"So what's it like down in Texas?" Morgan imitated my accent.
"There's a lot of rednecks and shotguns down there." I said back with my souther sass. JJ squeezed my waist, telling me to back down a bit but I couldn't help it. Being from the south and dealing with jackasses everyday had sort of become a part of my personality. I crossed my legs on her lap, staring Morgan down.
"How long have you two been together?" Emily asked.
"Nine months." JJ and I said at the same time.
"Nine months...you guys met on our case in Texas?" Emily smiled as she put the pieces together.
"I met her at a bar, she was kicking them out after a fight."
"They got in a big hissy fit over who the girl was looking at." I rolled my eyes. "Men can be so fragile." JJ kissed my jaw, making me blush. I wasn't one to blush but I was a sucker for jaw kisses.
"Let's get out of here." She whispered.
"What?"
"You've met them good enough, let's go." She dragged me outside and the door was barely closed before she had me pushed against the wall, kissing me passionately. "You were so hot back there."
"Hey ladies-" I heard an unfamiliar voice and froze. JJ backed off of my slowly but leaned in to cover my chest. "Sorry...I was just wondering if you wanted some cupcakes?" It was Penelope.
"Yeah Pen, thanks." JJ took the plate from her and waited for her to leave before making out with me again.
"Jayje, not in the hallway, sugar." I pushed her away a bit.
"You're gonna be the death of me." She groaned against my lips before kissing all over my face.
"Well you love me."
"You're right. I love you so much."
"I love you more."
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Text
all of me
part three of the bad idea series - part two
boyfriend! chris sturniolo x reader
summary: reader loses her cat and chris is with her always and then they go out on a date to distract her from the grief.
warnings: swearing, mentions of death, loss of a pet, pet names (baby, mama, sweetheart).
a/n: this song is so fucking good dude 👩‍🍳🤌💋
READERS POV
i drove to chris’ house in tears. my cat, annie had passed away. she had been my birthday present when i was 5 and i loved her unconditionally.
after i pulled into his driveway i practically ran to the door, knocking on it.
“hi ma- woah what’s wrong?” chris asks when he sees the state i’m in.
“annie passed a-away.” i hiccup, tears still falling down my cheeks.
“oh baby.” chris says, his face softening. he grabs my hand to pull me inside and he brings me down to his room. he quickly pulls me into him. my arms go around his torso and i hide my face in his chest.
after calming down i sit up. we had moved to sit on his bed so we could be more comfortable.
“i’m sorry i meant to shower before i came over here but i needed to see you.” i tell him, apologizing for my appearance.
“don’t apologize. even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too.” he comforts, pulling me back into him. my cheeks flush red, but luckily since my face was now in his neck he couldn’t tell.
2 weeks later
it’s been two weeks and i’ve been slowly feeling better. chris had been with me every step of the way. grief is always hard, even for animals.
me and chris we’re currently sitting on his bed. we were both silently scrolling on our phones, the sound of tangled playing in the background.
“mama?” he says, grabbing my attention.
“hm?” i hum, letting him know that i’m listening.
“i planned something for us later.” he tells me. i furrow my brows and turn off my phone.
“what’d you plan?” i ask, tilting my head to the side to show my confusion.
“it’s a surprise but you should be ready by 5:00.” he says, attempting to hide his smirk but he wasn’t doing a very good job.
“okay i will be.” i smiled softly.
i started getting ready at 5:00. it didn’t take too long since i had showered this morning so all i had to do was my makeup and get dressed. at 5:25 i walked out of chris’ bathroom to see him sitting on the edge of his bed.
“you ready?” i ask, putting my makeup bag on his gaming desk.
“woah, you look gorgeous.” chris compliments and i smile.
“thank you chris.” i blush.
“let’s go then, yeah?” he asks and i nod. “okay i’m gonna put the directions in your gps.”
“okay good because i don’t trust you to give directions.” i giggle softly as chris playfully looks offended.
“the beach?” i ask softly, putting my car in park.
“yeah come on.” chris said, getting out of the car. i quickly follow him and we walk down the beach.
“so i had matt, nick and madi all help me with this.” he says as we walk up to madi sitting on a blanket with snacks.
“hi madi baby. what’s happening?” i ask as madi stands up.
“someone had to sit with the blanket.” she smiles, hugging me.
“goodluck.” she whispers as she walks away. chris motions for me to sit down, as he sits down himself.
“me and matt went to the store yesterday and got all your favorites. him, nick and madi set it up earlier.” he explains, answering my questions before i could answer them.
“this is adorable. i want to cry.” i giggle softly.
“don’t cry. this is to make sure you don’t cry.” chris tells me, kissing my head.
“this is beautiful, chris. thank you.” i smile at him, grabbing the bag of watermelon sour patch kids.
“anything for you.” he says softly.
“okay so i do want to talk real quick.” chris tells me, causing me to sit up.
“i’m all ears.” i say, crossing my legs.
“i’ve liked you for a long time. like years. it feels very unreal that you’re mine.” he spoke, pausing and thinking for a second.
“not mine yet.” he corrects. i knew where he was going with this, and i already had my answer.
“okay let me get to the point. i really like you and i think you like me. so i was wondering if i could be your boyfriend?” he asks hesitantly. i knew he was nervous.
“yeah but only if it means i can be your girlfriend.” i giggle softly. he lets out a breath of relief.
“oh thank god. you have no idea how nervous i was.” he admits. i quickly pull him closer to me and kiss his lips.
“no more nervousness. come on, let’s have fun.” i tell him, standing up and running towards the water.
“wait you don’t have a bathing suit!” chris calls.
“who cares!!” i shout, running into the water and diving in once it was deep enough. when i resurface i see chris staring at me.
“you gonna join me or just stand there?” i ask, laughing. he shrugs and jumps into the water. me and chris playfully splash each other, nothing but smiles on our face.
a/n: i hope this lives up to the expectation because i know a few people wanted multiple parts. here’s the last one and i hope you love ittt 🫶🫶
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waynes-multiverse · 8 hours
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Plastic Hearts – Part 23
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂
<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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23. Every Breath You Take
“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.
“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.
“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.
“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”
“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”
Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.
He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.
“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.
Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”
Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”
“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.
“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.
But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.
Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”
“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.
Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?
“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.
Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”
“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.
“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.
But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”
Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.
Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”
Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.
Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.
Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?
He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.
“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.
Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.
“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.
Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”
Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.
And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?
But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.
However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.
But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.
Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.
“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”
“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.
He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.
Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.
Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.
Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.
“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”
Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.
“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”
See? Wine.
“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.
“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”
“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.
“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.
“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.
There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.
Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.
And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.
On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.
“Dean, please…”
That was the fourth – like clockwork.
Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.
Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.
“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”
“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”
“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.
“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.
“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”
But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.
She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.
Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.
But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?
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With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.
She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.
He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.
All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.
However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.
Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.
Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.
But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.
“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.
“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.
Oh.
“Uh…”
Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.
The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.
“Dean? Dean!”
Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.
He does know how to make an entrance.
Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”
“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”
“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”
“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”
“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.
The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.
“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.
“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.
“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”
Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”
As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.
“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.
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“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.
“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”
“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.
“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.
Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.
“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.
Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.
“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.
“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”
Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.
“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”
At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.
“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.
Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”
Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”
“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”
Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.
“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.
“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.
“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.
Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”
“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”
“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”
Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.
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Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.
Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.
“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”
“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.
“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”
“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.
Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.
“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.
But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.
And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.
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“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.
“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”
“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”
“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”
Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”
“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”
“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.
Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.
“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.
With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”
“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”
“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.
“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.
“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”
“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.
“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.
“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.
“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”
“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.
“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”
Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.
“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.
“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”
Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.
“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.
Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.
“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”
Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”
Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”
It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.
“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.
“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”
“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.
Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.
“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.
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24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4
Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉
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Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi
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letstalkaboutit100 · 6 months
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Does anyone else think that if eugene fitzherbert (flynn rider) and prince naveen had a baby they would be the most beautiful child in the world? Even more beautiful than emma's golden baby from jessie lol. read the tags XD (you WON'T regret it! lol)
#Tangled#eugene fitzherbert#prince naveen#princess and the frog#jessie#I don't ship them but i think they would totally be enemies to best friends lol#They would make a gorgeous couple though#Ok maybe I ship them a little#Their dynamic would totally be chaotic best friends#I have a feeling when they first meet naveen would totally flirt with rapzs just to annoy him lol#flynn rider#Tiana and cassandra would totally become friends they'll be like “oh no! there's two of them!” while watching them having a smolder contest#Cass and tia would totally be sitting legs cross drinking tea while looking so done with both them lol.#While rapunzel being the innocent flower we love is actually JUDGING the contest!#I feel like it would be a whole showdown! Then after when their both tried and they can't feel their faces they'll become friends!#The whole kingdom would be watching and everyone would just leave after a while lol.#Can you just imagine the look on naveen's face if he hears eugene call pascal 'frog'! XD#OH! Even better! Eugene would sit and stare at him straight in the eyes eating frog legs! THE LOOK OF HORROR!#I feel like tia wouldn't mined while both her and cass are trying so hard not to laugh!#But she totally took anything frog related off her menu#OOH! I just came up with a meme! You know that 'and we have a hulk' marvel meme. Imagine engene saying: I have a frog!#And then naveen would say: One that is not a frog that is a chameleon! (the same way he said that is not slime it is mucus!)#His accent is so funny but kind of sexy at the same time lol#Anyway he would then say: I have an alligator! And his smirk?! hilarious!#Naveen would at the end would totally make pascal as an 'honorary' frog after he saw him stick his tongue in someone's ear as he do lol#After that when they become friends they would totally be male wives besties. 'Oh the girls are out? Time for some male bonding!#They'll totally act like more of a married couple than with their own wives lol!#Tia and raps would totally love and hate this friendship lol. They'll constantly say “oh! did you mean me or your other wife” lol#Some pls make a fanfic! A one shot book pls!#disney
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waluigisgaybf · 6 months
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GOD it fucking sucks I cant even cuddle my doggies or my mom rn :( I want hugs and cuddle piles so bad rn.
#My household had me growing up super physically affectionate and just affectionate in general#we say I love you to eachother thousands of fucking times a day#but my step mom abused and scared me out of being able to be physically affectionate with my dad as often#like hugs and lil leaning against him on the couch cuddles#cause when I was around 15 she started telling me I wanted to fuck my dad#because I thought other people with beards were attractive#and she straight uo fucking said those words to me#and I KNEW she was fucking crazy#but it made me feel weird and fucked up about wanting to hug and chill with my dad as often#and we have Manny the doggie here#but hes not anywhere near the same kind of cuddle buddy as the dogs with my mom#and he sleeps in my dad and step moms room#and my mom and other dogs are still stuck in Texas to keep an eye on my great grandmas brain health#My step mom also used to FREAK the fuck out when me and my little brother would cuddle#she told us it was gross and disturbing and would yell at us#when literally he’d be sitting on top of my lap like in a criss cross shape on a chair#like hed try to make me phsycally uncomfortable by sitting on my legs weird to hurt them#and I would refuse to budge so then wed just both zone out on our phones or tv while he was on my legs#and shed LOOSE IT#so in combo with her#and my ex from 8th grade#Im really reallt fucked up when it comes to being able to be physically affectionate and I am so deeply touch starved from kt#it*
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