#((please no offense if you like that perfume. it's just that perfume is known to be used by fuckboys here))

[maia-and-ria]

Campus Story: Love Lesson on Fragrance

Cast: Jyuria Hoshizumi & MC

[ Ria's Private Office ]

Ria: You're finally here. Take a seat. MC: (I sit across Ria) So, what do you need me for? (Ria dumps a bunch of envelopes on the table in front of me) Ria: They're love letters. Open them and read the contents for me, please~

MC: > ...

MC: > (Take one letter)

MC: Aren't these for you...? And you're letting me read them...? Ria: Indeed. I don't wanna touch them but the least I can do is hearing what they have to say. MC: You sure is something... Ria: Why? They're no different from love dove. Lots and lots of them have been flocking towards you, am I wrong? MC: (Should I be surprised that she knows that much?) MC: This one smells different. Ria: Oh? Let me. (Ria smells the letter and then her face scrunched in disgust) Ria: Sauvage. Burn the letter. MC: Wait, why? Ria: Lesson one, only immature boys use that perfume. Second lesson, not only they're immature but also stingy. Run immediately if you ever encounter one. MC: (Not the lesson I expected to get in this institute but still, I'll try to remember it)

[tmwcs]

hi can you do a heethan reaction to reader wearing a pheromones perfume ; ( well actually she was oblivious about it since it was her friends suggestions . )

"Sweet Venom."

Warnings: the usual, dub-con smut, heethan goes feral (more so than usual) and reader is kind of being a dumb tease, unprotected smut, breeding kink, pet names, 😉 enjoy. Since i am dedicating alot of hours ths week to catch up on asks, none of these will be proof read. So ignore all mistakes, trying not have yo guys wait any longer than you already have.

"what the-"

He sniffs the air, overfilling his coffee cup. The lack of awareness has caused him to discontinue his usual routine and, instead, search for the source of this vibrant scent that has his whole hearted attention.

Where is it coming from?

Coincidently, you show up just as the scent was becoming intense. "Good morning babe." you express with a voice that chimed through the room like a warm toned bell ring.

"Is that you?"

You look up to see a wide eye'd heethan staring at you. Not heeseug. Not ethan. Heethan.

His expression was a crossover between intrigue, wonderment, and rage. His breathing escalated; chest heaved deeper as his shoulders propped up, look fiercely broader than normal. If you didn't know any better, you would say that there was a slight bit of drool seeping out from the corner of his mouth. "What?" you ask shyly.

"You know damn well what....it is you. Dont fucking play dumb. What did you do?"

"i didn't do anythi-"

"your fucking perfume, y/n!"

the level of his voice rising startled you. He closes the distance and punches the wall as he corners you against his chest, forcing you to lean against the smooth plastered surface. "I...it's a new perfume."

"What are you doing to me?" the iris in his eyes shrink, his nostrils flaring. He clenches his fist tighter, causing his knuckles to scrape against the cracked wall. "I'm not doing anything. Its a new perfume i just wanted to try it out and--ah!"

he grabs a fistfull of your blouse, clumping the soft fabric as he pulls you in. Swirling you around, he leans you over the kitchen island, tearing your skirt off, panties too.

"where the fuck is it coming from?" he grits out as he begins to aggressively sniff over the back of your shoulders, neck, waist, and over your buttocks. had you known his reaction as going to be this detrimental, you wouldn't have sprayed the scent all over your body, including the crevice of your inner thigh to your vaginal lips.

He rubs his nose and drags it against your skin. His lips forming a tight grit, allowing for the surface of his teeth to scrape against you while a firm hand planted on your lower back keeps you steady against the ledge of the counter. "Fuck....you sprayed it over here? what the fuck, y/n." you couldn't tell if he was angry or just fueling with sexual hunger as the scent became stronger. a sharp bite to the back of your thigh told you it may have been both. "ah! that hurts! don't bite too hard, please!"

he ignores your pleas and continues to bite down, this time on your inner thigh, and touched up with a harsh suckling that surely would leave a hickey over the bite mark. "Heeseung! Ethan! wait!"

he migrates his suckling offense over to the plush lips that cradles your clitoral slit. without any warning, he jams a finger inside, licking the tender spot between your two entrances. his motions were tender and passionate, causing his nose to move close and poke against your anal opening. "Stop! Heeseung!"

the moment you jolted, his hand pushes your forcibly down, practically pinching your waist against the counter edge. "stay fucking still." he speaks against your clitoris, and the sensation of it made you obey. God...you dont want to say it, but you wish he would speak against it once more.

"P-please...not so rough.." you spoke out, knowing that the false pretense of your words would rattle his cage even more. "you like it when i go rough."

your thighs shake as you relish in victory of having him speak against your swollen clit. Sensing the pleasure within you, he takes the hint and continues. "you're leaking, y/n."

"mmhmm...." you wave the white flag as you humbled out an admission of guilt with a small nod. on propped elbows, you arch your back, allowing for your fully glory to bask in the wide open for his face to dig into. "yeah...you fucking know it too, dont you?"

you nod once more at his antics. the sound of his voice was angry. "fucking little tease."

a harsh sting makes its way to every single nerve point in your lower half. Did he just slap your rear end?

"H-Heeseung!"

he slaps it again. and again. it was something that he has, on countless occasions, said he'd never do since slapping assess were meant for cattle, and you were above that sort of treatment. He'd slap your breasts, waist, and used two fingers to lightly slap your jaw at times, during the heat of passion, but never your rear end.

"see what you did, y/n? see what you let loose? stick it up in the air right now!"

each slap follows his words as he continues his passionate assault and makes his demand. You obey willingly, yearning for more of his aggression. just as you didn't think he could get anymore irrisistable he tells you...

"mating season is on. spread your fucking legs and get fucked, y/n."

his large foot shoves in between your feet and he lightly kicks your ankles apart. you hear his belt unbuckle; the unzipping of his jeans made you drool this time. your breasts mashes against the cold counter tile as he rolls up your blouse to expose them. his strong hands grab on to your mid-back, while his stiff muscle feeds its way in between your rear cheeks. taking advantage of your leakage, he lubes it up nicely as he strokes in between the smooth crevice, watching as his shaft rubs against your taint. it was enough to coat it until it glistened and shined like a marble statue. "beg for it, you sexy bitch."

his harsh words made you clench and pulsate. "oh please....please baby....please fuck me. i want it, please...."

"does my pretty little doe give up?"

"yes!"

"my pretty little doe love her buck?"

"yes yes!"

leaning over, his chest pressed against your back, he bends along your body, lips touching your ear. "say it."

you whine in slight confusion. "You know what i mean, y/n."

you cave in upon taking his strategic hint. "Bambi....please fuck me bambi-boy!"

"fuck yeah." he breathes out as he jams himself in. your hip bone slaps against the edge repeatedly when he kept moving them back and forth, all in relation to the momentum of his thrusts. "oh! my! god! bambi!" you scream out.

"louder!" his breath hitches as you clench down.

"bambi!"

"Fucking louder!" his tone raises in volume, reflecting the breach of his release as he relentlessly fucks a new path inside your gut.

"BAMBI!!!"

"Oh fuck!" you gasps out as he picks up an inhuman pace. His thrusts become sloppy and carry less rhythm as he slides in and out fast. the slushing sound of his shaft feeding your opening was enough to make you release. the overwhelming of peak tingle robs you of all your other senses as you feel the thick circumference of his shaft being wrapped by your walls. the bulging tip squeezes against your soft spot, spewing out the clear, slick liquid each time. his thumbs swipe over your lower back repeatedly as his hands firmly grip onto your waist, making you absorb the impact of his balls slamming into the small bit of taint exposed. his fingernails dig into your skin, twitching as he comes closer to release. at that moment, he shifts his placement of grip, and leans down to embrace your entire waistline with his arms. Pulling you back a bit, you inherit a higher propped position as you rest against your palms, standing nearly upright with a slight arch curving along your spine. he was going so fast, you swore you saw stars bursting before you. "right....fucking....there!" he grits his teeth against your neck and finally...

you scream out as you feel the sudden pullback. with his arms wrapped around you, it allowed him to gain leverage in suspending you in mid-air as he came inside. Your feet dangle above ground as you faintly bend forward at the waist as a reactive motion from how hard his arms were squeezing you. the tingling sensation was so strong, it made your toes curl. you so badly wanted for them to touch the ground but he took his time to release deep inside you, keeping you up as he did so. the unbearable feeling of not being able to grip onto anything as the sensation throbbed inside as painful, yet the prickling orgasm made it worth the while, as did your muscles repeatedly clenching around his thickness. "ah! oh my god!" you tune out in a melody that was music to his ears. "yeah...sing for me baby."

you let out a prolonged moan as you shake and rattle. cumming with him inside you, was undoubtedly the best feeling in the world. "im cumming! im cumming!" you let out in the same tune that he loves to hear.

"good....fucking....girl." keeping you levitated, he bounces you in sync with each word as he forces you to drain him dry, and swallow it all within your stained womb.

you both catch your breath for a minute-or two. finally as the sweat beads dry up, and the musky moisture evaporates from your skin, his voices reflects its normal inflection as he asks you...

"what kind of perfume was that, pretty?"

you lay over the counter, limp and fuck-beaten beyond repair. "sweet venom...by enhypen."

"I dig the name. put some more on before we leave, please baby?"

your eyes widen. he couldn't be serious. "but-" you grew startled upon feeling a hand shoot around and grab your neck. pulling you up and away from the counter, you turn to face a familiar countenance, one that was dark and full of malice, and sense of sexual rage that was much darker and vicious than before.

Ethan...

"I said...fucking please."

[theeoriginals]

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does. 

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as. 

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah. 

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it. 

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.” 

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,” 

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,” 

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.” 

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,” 

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.” 

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.” 

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace. 

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly. 

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,” 

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.” 

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief. 

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.” 

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos. 

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet. 

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him. 

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday. 

Regrets a lot of things, too. 

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone. 

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second. 

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?” 

────── 

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to. 

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy. 

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it. 

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly. 

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times. 

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow. 

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake. 

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse. 

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins. 

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped. 

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows. 

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity. 

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him. 

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal. 

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too. 

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place. 

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

It’s embarrassing more than anything else. 

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case. 

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water. 

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit. 

────── 

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.” 

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it. 

“What about you?” 

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?” 

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again. 

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.” 

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,” 

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?” 

“You,” 

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth. 

“Me? What about me?” 

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–” 

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t. 

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?” 

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat. 

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him. 

He rears back like she’s slapped him. 

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really. 

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking. 

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve. 

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–” 

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her. 

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.” 

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle. 

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,” 

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,” 

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” 

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him. 

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?” 

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” 

“Forever,” 

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.” 

[elliespassagerprincess]

Omg if you’d be willing to do another boy genius song I loved the first one so much could you do cool about it it’s my favorite from them 🫶

Cool about it - (ellie williams x reader)

hi anon! I would love to do another boygenius one, I literally love them and thank you for the compliment! I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Cool about it by Boygenius, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are always open, feel free to send one! you can send me a song and I'll take it from there!

HUGE Warning: mental illness, murder, descriptions of murder, gore, mentions of touching a body, a small description of a dead animal, and Ellie being unhinged (as per usual)

Summary: if Ellie couldn't have you, she'd make sure no one else ever will.

wc: 1.7k

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

When Ellie met you, she knew her life was going to change. Whether it was for better or for worse, she didn't care.

Dina recently came out as bisexual and according to her, she needed to "meet hot girls". She dragged Ellie to a local lesbian bar and Ellie hated every fucking second of it.

She wanted to go home so fucking bad. She wanted to sleep-

"hi"

Ellie's thoughts were interrupted when she heard a voice talking from behind her. The voice of an angel, she would describe it. That voice that changed her entire life, from that moment on.

Ellie turned her head to see you.

And yeah maybe coming to the bar that night wasn't such a bad idea.

The two of you talked for hours about how shitty your college is, you talked about how Ellie wanted a promotion at the Café she was currently working at. The two of you made fun of the bartenders neck tattoos.

It was a really a night to remember.

Ellie had gotten your number and she immediately asked you out on date. And you quickly said yes. I mean, who wouldn't? It's Ellie Williams.

You made Ellie feel like a fucking fool. You were making her do things she's never done before.

She showed up to the restaurant 2 hours early, so she could choose the best table, so she could make sure the area was safe.

Her palms were wet with sweat the closer as she watched the minutes go by as she was waiting for you.

Ellie's eyes lit up when you walked info the restaurant, the air in her lungs were knocked out as you walked towards her.

You were beautiful.

"Hi" you gave her a small smile before she got up to hug you. As Ellie wrapped her arms around you, the scent of your perfume overtook her senses.

The two of you fit together like a puzzle pieces.

The date was amazing. You talked like you had known each other for years, despite only knowing each other a week at that point in time.

As the evening came to an end you told Ellie something she didn't want to hear.

"Look I'm not looking for something serious, just casual hook ups that's all. No feelings attached"

"no feelings?" Ellie asked in shock

"Yeah" you replied. "Just be cool about it"

How could she be cool with only hooking up with the girl, she thought was her soulmate?

I came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

Ellie hoped that one day you'd call her and say that you regret only hooking up with her. She hoped that you'd tell her that you wanted more than sex.

But at this rate Ellie doesn't think that will happen.

You'd only call her when you were alone or bored, and Ellie being stupid and in love, always went.

She'd drop everything for you.

She knows this is toxic, being in love with someone you know will never fucking love you is bad.

But Ellie hoped this was a test.

She hoped you were testing her, testing her loyalty. It was unlikely, but she always had hope.

You were in Ellies mind, like a fucking plague. Like a fly that wouldn't go away.

Everything she looked at, everything she smelt or touched reminded her of you. And she was sick of it.

She saw you in her dream, and in her nightmares. Ellie saw you everywhere.

She already couldn't have you, now you were haunting her.

Is this some kind of joke? Did you ask a spell on her?

She'd beg the stars above to have mercy on her. To make her even forget about your existence entirely. But she couldn't.

You were there to stay. To haunt her. To mock her. Maybe one day she'll move on, but for now she has to deal with being with your side chick.

If only you'd given her a chance, you'd still be alive right now.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

"Ellie when last have you taken your medication?" Joel asked as he walked into Ellie's room.

Empty plates and cups littered the room as he saw a few bugs run around.

Ellie's head snapped towards the door when she heard him talk.

"Ellie you know you need it" Joel tried talking with her again

"I dont"

"you'll hurt someone if you don't drink it" he tried reasoning with her

"I'm fine, I won't hurt anyone"

"don't lie Ellie"

"Joel get the fuck out" and with a sigh Joel left the room.

"I need to get into her mind" Ellie spoke aloud even though there was no one there.

"She left me Barry... why would she leave me for her?"

She needed to know why you didn't want her. She needed to know why you chose some blonde bitch over her.

She was cool with the arrangement that the two of you had. Strictly sex and nothing else. She got to see you, she got to spend time with you, but now that you have someone else.

You stopped seeing her.

What made Abby so special, that you could commit to her and not to Ellie? What was wrong with her?

"What can we do?"

"Hurt her? No that's not nice Barry" she told him.

"Wait so you're saying if we kill her no one will touch her?" She asked him.

"If she says no i'll hurt her...yeah thanks Barry"

Ellie excitedly got up from her bed as she reached out to grab her phone. She quickly texted you asking you to come over because the two of you had to talk about something important.

You said you'd be there in an hour and grin spread across Ellie's face.

Joel had left the house to go to see Ellie's therapist. He was very fucking concerned and he was afraid for his own safety.

Joel knew there was something wrong with Ellie since she was 5 years old.

She was playing out in the garden, before Joel called her in a for dinner. But Ellie excitedly told him "come look, I made a friend!"

With smile Joel walked out, but his smile was soon overcome with pure horror and shock.

Blood littered the grass a squirrel lay there cut in half.

Joel turned to Ellie as she looked at him with a big smile.

"Barry made me do it!"

Therapy session after therapy session, but yet no one knew why a 5 year old was killing animals.

They told Joel he was being overdramatic, that she was just acting out. But the older Ellie grew, the more violent her acts became.

She killed animals, she hurt her friends. She wasn't a kid acting out, she was a girl with a serious problem.

They gave her medication, to keep whoever Barry was quite. Without barry Ellie lived a happy life. A peaceful life.

But now, because of you, for the first time in years, she heard Barry talk to her again.

Barry always knew best in Ellie's eyes.

Ellie quickly cleaned the living room, before she hopped into the shower. All you needed to do was say yes, and she wouldn't hurt you.

Just say yes.

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

"please give me one chance" Ellie begged.

She watched you lower your heard as you let out a sigh.

"Ellie I can't, you know I don't feel the same way"

"Please try" she begged.

She hoped you would say yes. She didn't want to hurt you. You would be ok, you would walk out of here alive if only you said yes to her.

The love Ellie had for you was killing her. It felt like she was drowning.

Either you let her love you or she'd make sure nobody would ever love you again.

Ellie felt the cold blade of the knife dig into her back. She had hid the knife behind the chair she was sitting at and all she wanted was for you to say yes.

She needed you to just give her a chance and everybody would be happy. Everybody would be safe and you would leave alive.

"Ellie I said no"

Ellie's eye slightly twitched as she took a deep breathe. She closed her eyes lowering her head into her hands.

why didn't you just say yes?

She got up grabbing the knife, hiding it behind her back as she made her way towards you.

With tears in her eyes, Ellie looked at you and said "you should've said yes"

You looked at Ellie as she towered over you, you opened your mouth to say something but you suddenly felt something cold in your shoulder.

You looked to your seeing there was a knife, with eyes wide you looked back at Ellie as you let out a whimper.

"Why?" You asked her, as you felt the unbearable pain in your shoulder.

"you should've said yes" Ellie repeated, as she removed the blade from your shoulder.

You let out a cry, when the blade was pulled from your shoulder.

You tried moving away from Ellie, but she was bigger than you and much stronger. You had nowhere to run and all you could do was accept your fate.

Ellie brought the knife down as she stabbed you in the stomach.

"You should've said yes" she repeated.

The knife was pulled from my stomach, and she slashed your left cheek.

"You should've said yes"

She brought the knife directly into your eye socket.

"You should've said yes" she repeated as she slit your throat.

"You should've said yes" Ellie yelled as she repeatedly brought the knife down, stabbing you all over your body.

Blood spattered everywhere, and there wasn't an inch of your skin that was left uncut or without blood.

The last words you ever heard that day was "you should've said yes"

maybe you should have.

Ellie threw the knife somewhere in the room as heavy breathes left her mouth. Ellie looked down at your body, with a small smile on your face.

"We did it", she muttered to herself.

Ellie gently placed your still warm, and still bleeding body onto the floor, before she got onto her knees to give you a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm sorry I hurt you" she brought her hand up to wipe the blood from your lips.

"but it had to be done"

She lowered herself onto your chest. Ellie lay there cuddling with your dead body, she closed her eyes and she let out a hum of approval.

She's definitely has to thank Dina for taking her to that bar.

Authors note: well I've been posting everyday for the last 4 days and I'm so sorry for spamming, but I have so many requests and I'm trying to get everything done for yall. So just know for the next few days, I'll be feeling you with ALOT of content lmfao.Remember you are loved and to always be kind. I love you all.

Yours truly,

Zia:)

[goldentsum]

— pretty little liar

PAIRING: eren x reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: eren has a lot of pride and he knows that though he curses his stupid pride and big mouth that always gets him in trouble.

TAGS: smut, slight fluff and crack at the end, porn with a little plot, modern au, college au, established relationship, femdom, sub! eren, dom! reader, whiny and needy sub! eren, crybaby! eren, reader is a tease and a meanie, implied sorority! rich! reader, reader has a tongue piercing, handjobs, overstimulation (male receiving), semi-public sex, car sex, unprotected sex (pls always wrap it before you tap it), spitting, degradation, praising. slapping

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I COULDN’T HELP IT! I COULD NEVER RESIST THIS MANS! long-haired/man-bun eren? AWOOGA! also because the latest chapter fucked me up-- :((  i need to get it out of my system HAHAHHA to the ones who waited for this, hereee! get yall’s eren smut!! unedited!! 

eren sighed, a bit tired and because of the incoming headache from the loud music and the alcohol that he has been drinking. college parties are both a pain and an amusement. his vibrant green eyes searched through the rowdy crowd for you, you said you were just going to get something from the kitchen but you were taking your sweet time, huh... 

the tall young man leaned against the wall, scrunching his nose at the scene of people grinding against each other and the smell of alcohol and sweat. he grunted and took a sip of his drink, trying to occupy himself and wait for you, his lovely girlfriend, who abandoned him in a room filled with hornyass people. 

a small pout appeared in his lips, hidden by the red plastic cup, as he grumbled under his breath. suddenly, a hand slapped against his shoulder making him jump and he turned around to glare at the person but as he saw your bestfriend, he eased down a bit, though still annoyed at the hard slap on his shoulder. 

“jaegerbomb! what’re you doin’ in the corner looking like a whole loner?” (f/n) snickered, a smirk in her red lips. eren rolled his eyes and answered with the most blatant tone, “(y/n) left me here” 

she laughed at that as she repeatedly slapped his arm. eren grimaced and tried to pushed her off without making her tumble down to the floor because it’s a little too obvious that she was drunk as fuck. “ahh, classic cold little (n/n)~” eren heard the drunk young woman snickered.

“anyway! how’s the relationship going? i mean, now that you two are together?” she asked, a smirk on her lips as she clumsily brushed her long pink dyed hair away from her face. 

eren cleared his throat, feeling a little shy at the mention of you and your relationship. “i-it’s fun..” 

the pink haired woman raised a brow at the shy response, thoroughly entertained at the flustered body language of the usual cocky and arrogant male, as she thought to herself, ‘oh, (n/n)ie~ look how this boy simp for you’ 

“ahh, i remember you were always tailing behind our precious wittle (n/n)ie~ though it’s not like that has changed. boy, you really got it bad” she hummed, tone blunt but amused. the brunette rolled his eyes, though his ears started to burn in embarrassment. he tried to keep himself busy with the cup in his hand and blew a strand away his face as he looked elsewhere beside the female in front of him. 

eren took a sip of his drink and his eyes lightened up when he saw you coming out of the kitchen with something in hand, talking to another female. (f/n), who saw this, smirked and asked, “you’re such a bottom” 

the brunette choked in his drink, liquid splashing against his chin and cup. he moved it away from him as he coughed, a little bit of the spilled alcohol sipping through his black t-shirt. he whipped his head towards the smirking female and glared, trying to look mean as possible though his shaky eyes and the still shock expression in his face makes it hard to take him seriously. “what the hell, (f/n)! why would you say that?!” 

“oh come on! we both know that no one can top that girl. it’s (n/n)ie we’re talking about here! the cold and scary female who makes people tremble under her gaze? there’s no way in hell that you can dom that... no offense, jaegerbomb” 

eren was at loss at her words, his pride was practically broken down in front of him while the (f/n) inform him as if she’s telling a well-known fact. something in his chest started to grumble and nudged him to deny it, to save the last bits of his pride. 

he knows he has a little too much pride and can be arrogant and his stupid mouth can’t be stopped once he start..

“that’s not true at all! i top her all the time!” he argued, though thankfully the music was enough to cover it up and not attract attention to him. (f/n) quirked a brow and looked at him up and down as if saying, “really now? you?” 

he felt the uneasiness when he lied through his teeth, he just hoped that you won’t hear anything about what he just said-...

she hummed then turned to where you stood with one of your and her sorority sister, “(Y/N)! YOU’RE A SUB?” 

eren gaped at her in surprise and horror and tried to stop her, grasping her arm. he then looked at you, his body went rigid and a sudden shiver ran up his spine when his shocked green eyes connected with your intimidating (e/c) eyes. your sorority sister looked at you in shock and said something to you but you didn’t remove your eyes on him. 

he gulped when your already sharp eyes narrowed. fortunantely for him, you looked away after a second to talk to the female beside you and eren let out a shaky breath and let the woman’s arm go while (f/n) let out a noise of confusion when you ignored them. 

“well that was confusing as fuck...” she muttered and then turned again to eren, who stood stiffly. “dude, are you okay?” 

“yeah...” he said absentmindedly as he cursed himself and the pink haired female in his head. she pursed her lips and shrugged nonchalantly, “well, maybe you do top her.. though i’m still sure that she won’t ever let anyone top her. that bitch gets a little too pissy when someone boss her around” 

“i’m gonna leave you here, jaegerbomb. this party needs a little more excitement, if you get my drift” the pink haired female snickered and slapped his arm once last time then left him to go who knows where. eren closed his eyes and massaged his temple at what just happened. ‘(f/n), you little shit... you just got me into trouble-’ 

his thoughts were cut off when he got hit by your familiar sweet perfume and he opened his eyes again, flinching a bit when he noticed you were already in front of him. 

“this is what you wanted, right?” your tone was as blunt and straightforward as ever. 

“w-what?” he stuttered out, heat filling his cheeks. you raised a brow and waved a small chocolate bar. “you said you wanted this earlier” 

green eyes locked with the candy and let out a nervous laugh, “y-yeah yeah! thank you, babe..”

you watched him shakily fiddle with the chocolate bar, a still and nervous smile on his face. you observed him, looking him up and down. you stepped closer to him and his movements stopped all together when you got closer. you raised one hand to move stray locks that escaped his man bun, your sharp nails scrapped lightly against his scalp. eren let out a shaky breath and looked at you with submissive eyes. 

“don’t think you’re off the hook, baby. we’re gonna talk about that little stunt you pulled.” you whispered against his ear, your teeth grazing his heated ears. the taller male’s breath hitched at that and he held onto you with wide eyes. 

you started to kiss down to place openmouthed kisses on his sensitive neck. you could feel his hands hold onto your cropped shirt, his actions confusing, not knowing whether he wanted to pull you closer or push you away. 

you chuckled at the aroused gasp eren let out. you let one of your hands trail down his abdomen, slowly creeping inside his shirt to trace his muscles. 

“b-baby, please... n-not here” you heard him rasp out, though his hands were clenched tightly against your shirt. you sucked and licked his skin earning you a small moan and grind. 

your hand that was inside his shirt, inched upwards to touch his nipples slightly and your thigh moved in between his legs, feeling his semi-hard cock. “what a filthy little slut you are, getting off in public” you whispered.

eren whined at your words, shaking his head slightly as his eyes were clenched shut. “n-no! ‘m not...” 

you chuckled at him, his words starting to get slurry already. you caressed his stomach, scratching the clenching muscles. “car. now, baby” 

you removed yourself away from him and smirked at his disheveled appearance that he quickly tried to fix, a shy and embarrassed expression on his face as his ears glowed red. 

letting your eyes soak up the pretty view, you hummed. eren cleared his throat and he fixed his man bun, tying it again, trying to look not too obvious that you two were doing something earlier. 

you then noticed something on the floor and snorted, “you dropped something” 

eren looked at you, confused, then followed your gaze and noticed the candy bar that you gave him earlier. he blushed a bit and went down to pick it up but not before retaliating, “i-i knew that!” 

you chuckled, not paying much mind to it, and looked around for (f/n) and once you saw her and made eye contact, you gestured to the door and lifted your hand that held your car keys that you got from your jean pocket

“aww, leaving already...? drive safe, (n/n)ie!” (f/n) bid, raising her red cup. you nodded a bit then grasped eren’s free hand, dragging him out of the huge sorority house. 

you two went to where you parked your car while eren watched you go to the side where the driver’s seat of the expensive car is. you raised a brow at him which made him blurted out, “w-we can go to my dorm, armin said he was going to his girlfriend’s earlier...” his words trailed off. you offered a small smirk then nodded, getting in fully and eren hurriedly did the same. 

the scent of expensive leather and the sweet scent of your perfume was all he smelled in the car and oddly enough, it made him even more antsy. your car started to purr as you revived the engine. eren watched you drive at the corner of his eyes, teeth biting his poor bottom lip whilst his hands ran up and down his thighs, legs a little shaky. 

you noticed this and clicked your tongue making him stop his movements. his breath hitched at the sound, uh oh he just broke one of your rules... but he’s just so needy, he can feel his cock painfully straining against his black pants. 

“what do you think you’re doing” you weren’t asking a question more like reprimanding him, tone brutally cold and it made him shiver in anticipation and arousal. 

“’m sorry... i, i j-just...” his words choppy and stutter-y

“speak up.” 

eren gulped, eyes lowered into his lap as he sat on his hands, placing it beneath his thighs, not wanting to anger you further or break any of your rules. 

“well?” 

he turned to you with a shaky breath, green eyes watching you with utter need as you drove with your usual stone cold face. “c-can you please touch me...” his words reached you though it’s volume was not even beyond a whisper. 

you let out a playful scoff, sharp eyes turned towards him for a second before going back to the road, “needy little slut, ain’t ya.” 

eren let his eyes drop to his lap again, gulping, as he pressed his lips into a thin line. the feeling of excitement rising inside him. 

the car was filled with silence, besides eren’s small pants and his occasionally shuffling around. you parked the car at the corner of the empty street near eren’s dorm. as soon as you stopped the car, eren reached over to you and wrapped an arm around your neck, kissing you frenziedly, and moaned at the feeling of your soft lips against his. 

though you didn’t move an inch which made him whine and he leaned back, half-lidded green eyes stared up at you. a shiver of arousal went up his spine when he saw your eyes turn dark. before he could apologize again, your hand went to grip his chin, pressing against his cheeks. 

“tsk. you’re really testing my patience tonight, love” 

eren whimpered at your words as he looked up at you with so much devotion and need, panting like a dirty mutt and lips pursed into a pout with your grip. 

“on the back seat.” he nodded eagerly and you removed your hand away from him. the tall man shimmied his way to the backseat as quickly as possible but he yelped when he felt a harsh slap on his ass before he sat himself on the backseat with an embarrassed face. “baby, please! don’t do that...” he muttered under his breath, heat filled up his face and he avoided your eyes. 

you scoffed, amused, and joined him in the backseat of your car. eren scooted over a little to give you space to go over. just after you sat, he moved himself closer to you and pressed his body against you. “(y/n)... please, ‘m sorry for what happened earlier.. just t-touch me please” he pleaded, face nuzzling against your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. 

you clicked your tongue and grasped his hair, pulling it to make him look at you. he gasped at the slight pain and the pleasure that went straight into his groin and looked at you with lidded eyes. “you’re not getting away just like that, baby. we need to train you properly, you’ve been naughty all evening.” 

he whimpered at that and watched you come closer. you smirked down at him, he looked amazing as always. eren always looked better like this, pliant and needy.

you pressed your lips against his pulse, licking and sucking on it, and you loosened your grip on his hair, massaging his scalp. eren closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin, mouth open in a silent moan. you let your other hand wander, brushing against his bulge making his breath shutter. 

“(y-y/n)..” you heard him pant out but you ignored it, this was his punishment. 

your hand in his hair guided him the way you wanted and tilted his head back as you marked his tanned skin. you can feel his cock twitch against his pants, your nails tracing the outline. 

his hips jerked, trying to get you to touch him more firmly. you bit his still bruised neck from your previous escapade as a warning though the man only moaned shamelessly at your rough action. you unbuckled his belt, moving his pants down with both hands while eren moved as well to help you with it. 

eren watched you while you smirked at him, leaning closer to his face and his eyes shifted down at your red lips. he felt you nudge his nose with yours slightly making him smile a bit and he leaned up to kiss you but you moved back. the brunette furrowed his brows at your action, “(y/n), k-kiss..” 

you wanted to coo at his cute expression and words but you reminded yourself that this was his punishment. you kissed his jaw as you slipped your hand inside his boxers, pulling his thick cock out. eren hissed at the cold air nipping his sensitive dick, head tilting back against the car window. 

you pecked his cheek and let your other hand move his tight black t-shirt up to reveal his clenching abs as you stroke his length. you leaned back and admired the view, your precious boyfriend moaning so prettily for you as his glorious muscles contracted and his thick cock started to leak precum. 

god, he’s just so beautiful and it’s all for you. 

eren’s hips jerked instinctively when you swiped your thumb against his cock’s sensitive head and spread the precum along his length. he oozed out so much precum that it was so wet and sloppy.

your hand went faster, jerking him quicker, making him gasp as he held your wrist with wide eyes. you chuckled at his cute reaction but you didn’t stop nor did your pace get slower. eren let out a series of loud moans and he let go of your wrist so he can cover his mouth, breath heavy. you thumbed one of his nipples, his body shivering at your actions. 

“baby! f-fuck” he cried, letting his head rest against the window again and let you stroke him to his high. the alcohol buzzing in his system was making him more sensitive than usual and the possibility of someone catching you two in the car made him hornier. the wet and lewd sound that echoed inside your car guided him closer to his release, his thighs trembling. 

he could feel it, the pleasure building up as the band in his stomach threatening  to snap. your other hand moved down to cup his tightening balls and your lips replaced your fingers on his nipple. he sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure, his hips thrusting up, trying to match your pace. 

your tongue flattened and you let your piercing roll against the hardened bud, your boyfriend yelped at the contact of the metal ball against his sensitive nipple. 

“s-shit! baby! aHH-!” he moaned out, your hand moving even faster as he cum. his body convulsed at the sudden orgasm that hit him like a hard wave as thick ropes of cum spilled from his thick member, painting your hand and his heaving chest. you stroked his cock to prolong his orgasm. 

as he came down his high, a wave of sensitivity hit him when you didn’t stop your hand. he cried at that and his hand gripped your wrist with a sweaty and clammy hand but not really stopping you, his shiny and teary green eyes stared at you with shock. “ahh! (y-y/n)! wait! too s-sensitive!” 

you chuckled sadistically at him and leaned closer to him, “but we’ve only just begun” 

eren whimpered, body shivering at the overstimulation but his cum only helped him back to hardness as the slick feeling made him lightheaded. his body shivering and writhe at your actions, completely pliant in your hands. 

you slowly stopped and removed your hand, listening to eren’s heavy gasps and hics as he tried to catch his breath. your greedy (e/c) eyes soaked up the sight for a moment then you tapped your cum stained hand against his lips, “clean it up.” 

eren whimpered and his tongue peaked out to lick his cum, cleaning your fingers. you watched him lick your fingers with short but fast strokes and then you entered two fingers inside his mouth which earned you a lewd moan. he sucked your fingers in, tongue lapping messily around your fingers. his teary eyes looked up at you. you smirked and you pressed your two fingers down his throat making him gag but he only groaned and worked even greedily on your fingers. 

when you were satisfied, you slowly moved your hand away from him. your fingers now sticky with his spit and connected it to his open mouth with a thin line of saliva. “hah... ahh..” he panted, slightly drooling from his greedy sucking. 

you snickered and slapped his face twice, light enough to not hurt but hard enough to make a nice and loud sound and make his cheek tingle. “what a good little slut you are” 

eren moaned and his hips thrusted in the air, wanting to feel you already around his once again hard cock. 

you moved closer to sit on his lap. eren leaned his head to your chest as his hands tried to get rid of your pants, he wanted to feel your skin... no.. he needs to feel your skin. 

you looked down at him, halting your movements to watch him. he looked so cute, pawing your pants while whining when his shaky hands weren't fast enough. eren peered up at you through his lashes, his trembling hands on your hips. 

“go on, puppy” 

the brunette keened at the pet name and he pulled your pants down a little too aggressively, needy and craving to finally feel your soft skins against his. you run your dry fingers through his hair, tucking the loose strands behind his ear. when he finally tugged your pants halfway down your thighs, he moved you to your back to the seat to remove it completely then quickly worked on your top. you wanted to snicker at the utter desperation in his actions. it was cute, oddly endearing. 

eren hovers above you, eyes blown wide with lust as he let out heavy pants. his eyes darkened by lust admired your exposed skin, the way your matching dainty black laced bra and panties made him want to kneel before you was embarrassing. his attention then went back to your sharp eyes and gulped. he then leaned closer and whispered a small, “kiss?” 

without any other words, you grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you as your lips pressed against each other in a feverish kiss. eren hummed at the feeling of your lips and opened his mouth in submission. you purred in approval and you slithered your tongue in his mouth. 

the way your hot and wet tongue twirls with his made him grind against your clothed pussy and the feeling of the ball of metal that gets caught in his tongue was making him hornier. your mound was hot and he can feel the wet patch on your thin panties. 

you pushed him, to change your position, without letting your joined mouths disconnect. eren let you guide him back, moving without resistance on his end as he was perfectly content and occupied with the way your tongue moved inside his mouth. 

you sat in his lap, feeling the hard nudge of his cock against your core making you sigh in pleasure. you held his face while you grind your pussy against him, the small stimulation on your clit was making you impatient. breaking the kiss, you stared at eren’s lewd face, panting with his mouth open while some spit slipped out of the corner of his mouth. “you’re so pretty,” you whispered which earned you a small whimper. 

tugging off your panties, you stuffed it in his mouth successfully gagging him. eren’s loud moans now muffled by your panties and he could taste your arousal that stained the cloth, his eyes rolling back to his skull at the familiar taste. 

you clicked your tongue at his dazed look, seeing he wasn’t paying attention you lower yourself onto his length. eren choked on his spit, that was pooling in his mouth, wetting your panties. his wide eyes looked up at you but it quickly closed again, getting lost in the pleasure when you continued to sink down on his cock. your wet and gummy walls sucked him in and it felt so fucking good. 

you moaned when he bottomed out as you sat on his lap, his length nudging your cervix. you felt his hands on your hips, gripping your soft flesh but not moving you, knowing that you would get angry again if he did. you cooed at him, your breath getting heavier. eren waited for you, his cock twitching inside of you. fuck, just the way your pussy clench and unclench around him was making him feel so good... 

when you started moving, the man slumped on the window letting you bring him to his high once again as he clutched your body against his, feeling your soft breasts pressed against his chest. you let out heavy pants at the way his thick length drag along your tight and wet walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot. 

“s-shit...” you cursed and eren groaned when you rode him faster. he hid his face on your neck, his hot and sweaty skin sticking against yours. you let your hand bury in his messy tresses as the other was placed on his shoulder for support. 

you adjusted your position and fully sat on his lap, your movements stopping as you listen to eren’s muffled low moans and pants. moving your hand on his back to caress his skin, you looked at him. “go on, baby. move.” 

the male gripped your hips, hiking you up a bit with his strength and started thrusting inside you in a desperate manner. you let your head lean against his collarbone and your sharp and long nails scratched his back, loving the way his thick cock pumped inside of you. 

your hips matched his thrusts, fucking him the way you know he likes. you straightened up, looking down at him as you bounced up and down on his dick. your car must looked like a fucking bouncy house with the way you two agressively move against each other but neither of you two cared, lost in each other to give a fuck. 

you moved your hand to his lips and removed your panties from his mouth, your eyes darkened at the wet cloth and threw it without looking where it landed. your baby boy is so drool-y and messy but it’s cute, the way he gets lost in pleasure and lets you ruin him the way you like. 

his pink tongue lolled out his wet mouth, his eyes rolled back to head as he fucked you, hips never faltering and thrusting into you at a constant pace that made you shiver. you gripped his cheeks making him look at you with lidded and fucked out eyes. “say ahh~” you cooed when he did as you tell him without hesitation. 

gathering spit in your mouth and with a loud pew, you spit in his mouth. you watched him moan and eyes rolling back once again, his thrust getting more frantic. eren felt your spit on his tongue and god, you’re just so fucking hot. 

“lemme see, eren.” he looked up at you and opened his mouth wider, tongue flattened inside his mouth. you smirked and slapped his cheeks repeatedly while you tell him how much of a good boy he is, “atta boy, you’re such a good boy~ now, swallow baby.” and he did. 

you moaned when his cock twitched inside of you and started meeting his thrusts again, fucking him back. your tight pussy clenched around him making him gasp, he was still so fucking sensitive but it feels so good, he just wants more and more. 

“touch me, eren” fuck, you’re so dirty. the male groaned and sneak a hand between your legs, finally touching your swollen clit. you moaned at that, it was the stimulation that you needed. eren can feel the wetness pooling down where you two are connected as he gathered some of it in his fingers to rub you easier. 

“(y-y/n)... fuck, you’re so hot...” he muttered, voice raspy and husky as he massaged rough circles on your clit, the wetness on the pads of his fingers made it much more stimulating to you. you scratched his back, drawing angry red lines on his tanned skin and you bit his bruised neck. 

the combination of the way eren fucked into you and the way he rubbed your clit was amazing and your orgasm was coming faster than you expected. “s-shit... just like that baby..” 

he shivered, he knew what that means.. you were close, so fucking close and so was he. loud wet slapping noise filled the car along with your heavy pants and low moans and eren’s gasps and groans. 

“cum inside, eren” you muttered, moans slipping past your pretty lips.

eren’s fingers rubbed frantic circles on your clit as you gasped, clenching down on his length as you cum, your body shivering at the feeling of the intense pleasure washing over you. the male beneath you trembled when he felt you cum, his own orgasm getting triggered by your wet and pulsing walls. 

his loud and deep guttural moans echoed in the car along with the sound of wild thrusts, riding his and your orgasm. after a while, his tired hips slowly came to a stop as the car was filled with heavy and worn out pants while you two slumped against each other. 

eren chuckled breathlessly making you peek at him and shook your head at his tired but still cheeky smile. “t-that was something else...” you heard him and you snickered. 

you felt his hand stroke your sweaty back gently. when you caught your breath, you slowly straightened up, you two moaned at the slight movement when your sensitive sex got nudged a bit as he was still inside of you. 

you let his softening length out of you as cum started dripping down out of you and onto his thigh and on the leather seat of your car. “shit.. that’s so hot” eren muttered, in trance, as he watched the way his and your cum dribbled out of you with a soft blush on his face. 

“it’s a bitch to clean that’s what it is” you groaned when the soreness hit you. eren chortle at your words and watched you move to the front to get your stored wet wipes in the car’s compartment. his eyes then drifted to your ass and smacked it without warning. you yelped and almost got sent over the front seat. you glared back at him as you grasped the container and you sat back down. 

“don’t look at me like that, babe! you were the first one who did it! i was just merely returning the favor~” eren defended himself, an annoying smirk on his lips. 

you rolled your eyes and scowled at your boyfriend, “maybe you should fix yourself up. you look like a hobo.” then ignored his offended gasp as you cleaned yourself and the leather seat. 

“hey! just so you know, this long and beautiful tresses always gets the girls!” eren pouted as he took the wet wipes you offered while you hum absentmindedly. “girls.. were they homeless too?” 

the tall male gaped at you and whined then nuzzled his face into your neck, “take that back, you meanie!” 

you chuckled and looked at him, tucking a strand behind his ear. “you’re just too easy to tease, babe” 

eren huffed, a playful glare on his vibrant eyes as he leaned away from you. the male started cleaning himself as well then fixed his clothes and his hair. after fixing his hair to a more neat man bun, he looked at the floor and saw your panties and smirked. he reached down and grabbed it with a victorious glint in his eyes. 

he looked over to you, listening to you grumble whilst you searched for your panties. “can i have this?” 

you turned back to him and your sharp eyes drifted down to his hands where he held your panties. you rolled your eyes and tried to grab it away from him but he moved it away. you growled at his fast reflexes. “give it back” 

“or what?~” he teased with the same godforsaken and annoying smirk he always has

“or i’ll kick you out of my car” 

eren laughed at your words and let you snatch it away. you groaned when you felt the wet cloth then looked at him in the corner of your eyes, “look what you've done, you drool-y motherfucker...” 

the brunette blushed and started defending himself, “hey! you were the one who shoved it in my mouth!” 

you clicked your tongue and flung it to him which he caught with a happy but confused glint. “whatever. have it then. i have a clean pair in your dorm, right?” 

“yeahhhh... clean...” 

you halted your hands as you were about to wear your jeans, you glared at the unfocused male that was ogling at your panties. you then slapped his arm which earned you a yelp and a pout

“what was that for?!” 

“you masturbated with my panties again?!” 

“i can’t help it! it was your fault for leaving it in my room anyway!”

[1kook]

card swiped (2)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ How was he, a virgin, supposed to casually take his best friend’s virginity when he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with said best friend?  GENRE eventual smut, minor angst WARNINGS mentions of porn, mentions of sex, mentions of dicks, just jk having dumb thoughts tbh  OTHER volleyball player jk, student council pres oc, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, realization of crushes, there is one (1) cheek kiss 😐 RATING m (18+) WC 1.3k

NOTES (!) i did a follow up!!! this is rlly easy bc its like. dumb. the storyline is p simple so its become therapeutic 😐 anywayyy lemme know what u think !!

[ masterlist ]

The first step to initiating sex is a kiss— right?

Jungkook doesn’t even know anymore. All the porns he’s seen start at weird points in the progression, the first kiss somewhere between when the clothing comes off and when the penis holder shoves their cock in. Did he kiss you now, or was he supposed to wait?

That is, can Jungkook even muster the balls to kiss you? 

He doesn’t know, and when he sits up in front of you, knees against yours, does he come to a new shocking realization: the two of you have never kissed. For as long as Jungkook has known you, there has never been a kiss shared between you two. Not a single experimental phase, surprise mistletoe, not even a dare. Jungkook and you have never kissed, so it only makes sense that the idea of kissing right now has him pausing before he can even try. 

“Uh,” he says, all his years of grammar classes running down the drain when you sit up perkily, a gleam of excitement in your eye. “Tomorrow,” Jungkook chokes out, hurriedly bouncing off your bed before you can even process his words. 

By the time you’ve gotten up, he’s standing at the door with his bag slung over one shoulder, foot shoved into his shoe. “You’re leaving?” you ask, and scare the living daylights out of Jungkook when you suddenly reach for the sleeve of his shirt, successfully halting his hasty departure with one gentle tug alone. 

Jungkook’s face feels like it’ll burn up at this rate, and his brain screams at him to stop being so weird. You were his best friend, for goodness sake, something like this was bound to happen at some point or another. Right? His heart thunders in his chest, and when your eyes soften for the briefest moment, warm and familiar again, Jungkook relaxes. 

“I have practice,” he says casually, tugging the strap of his bag further over his shoulder. Inside, his shoes are shuffled around with his water bottle and practice clothes. “We need more than an hour to do that kind of stuff,” he jokes, but Jungkook isn’t even sure if what he’s saying is true. When that girl had jacked him off at that party—you know, the party—he can’t remember it lasting more than fifteen minutes. To be fair, it had been the first time someone had ever touched him, so maybe it was just because of his inexperience. 

And that brings him back to the same dilemma: how on earth is he supposed to rock your world when he’s never even had sex before?

Before Jungkook can dissolve into a self-induced puddle of panic, you’re letting him go. “Okay,” you say, always so sweet and understanding. You had to be if you were the president of the whatever-council (he’s pretty sure it’s the student council). It should be Jungkook who is this composed, not you. It should be Jungkook who leans forward, presses his lips against your cheek— not you! 

But as it stands, it is you who leans forward, soft lips pressed flush against his cheek, only an inch away from his lips. Your proximity has the overwhelming scent of, well, you fanning over him; fabric softener, lotion, perfume, all of it. “Oh,” Jungkook says, sounding like a total dweeb. The departure of your lips from his skin produces a soft smooching sound, straight from the movies, and Jungkook’s heart lodges itself into his throat when you meet his gaze with a sweet smile. 

And then the door is falling shut and Jungkook is bolting down the hallway, through the campus, and into the gym. He looks and feels insane, the emptiness of the gymnasium a blatant reminder that he was in fact a little too early. Serves him right for chickening out. But a second longer in your presence and he’s almost certain he would have died from heart complications. 

It’s only when he stares out over the gymnasium floor, devoid of any human life, that the gravity of his actions truly hit him. And they hit him hard. Like a city bus skidding across an icy road towards an intersection, Jungkook is suddenly hit full force with the stark realization that he has just prepositioned his friend of nearly fifteen years for sex. While being a virgin. 

“God,” he groans, throwing his bag against the nearest wall. It hits it with a dull thud, sliding down to the floor sadly. Jungkook follows. 

It would be nice to have some common sense every once in a while, to actually use the brain lodged up in his head. Why on earth had he thought offering himself up for sex to you, of all people, would be something easy? Sure, Jungkook as a virgin had some expectations of what sex would be like; deep down inside, he’s always known it won’t be exactly like in porn, there would be some disappointing things and some absolutely amazing things. But those were his own expectations to bear, the end results something that personally wouldn’t weigh down on him too much. 

But now… now Jungkook will have to come face to face with your expectations, that of which he absolutely can’t let down. What if you think his dick is small? What if cums too soon? What if you can’t get turned on by him? What if, at the end of it all, you don’t want to be Jungkook’s friend anymore?

The last thought has him sullenly sinking down further against the wall, chin pressed to his chest, as he mulls over any potential options. It would be weird (at least in Jungkook’s mind) to call it off now, especially after seeing how excited you’d gotten. As your best friend, Jungkook lived by an unspoken, strict code of conduct, that of which dictated that promises between best friends were not meant to be broken. It was the highest offense. 

But how was Jungkook supposed to rock your virgin world if he was a virgin? 

Faintly, he can still feel your puckered lips pressed against his cheek, and he mindlessly raises a hand up to brush his fingers against the skin. It makes him blush, remembering that sweet gaze you’d looked at him with. It’s the same one you used to give him when you were younger, the slightly proud, really content gaze whenever he did his homework before coming over, when he won a game against your rival middle school, when he first walked into a Victoria’s Secret with you when you were both sixteen. “You’re doing amazing, Koo,” you always teased and giggled, the sound gradually mellowing out over the years. 

Just a couple weeks ago he remembers hearing the sound from the bottom of a ladder, dragged into decorating the student center with you for the new school year straight out of practice. He had been tired, so absolutely drained from the drills that day, but it was impossible to say no when you had caught him across the student center, eyes lighting up at the mere sight of Jungkook’s sweaty form. 

“I’m running for student president this year,” you had told him (so it was the student council), the tall windows that lined the building’s walls allowing a ray of sunlight to settle down over you. It had made Jungkook halt for a second, heartbeat skipping one dangerous beat when you descended down, placed a hand on his shoulder the closer you got. “Vote for me, please?” 

“Yeah,” he had breathed, felt like the entire world was too small to fit the growing feeling in his chest. 

And it’s with that memory that Jungkook reaches his third and final realization of the afternoon, an accumulation of all the prior ones: how was he, a virgin, supposed to casually take his best friend’s virginity when he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with said best friend? 

“Oh… fuck,” he groans, slumping down until he’s practically sprawled over the floor, startling Namjoon and Jimin as they enter the gymnasium. Jimin scolds him for scaring them, but Jungkook is so deep in his wallowing that he barely hears. 

He was in trouble.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[sunjaesol]

love, between the shadow and the soul

chenford | drabble | post-canon | title: sonnet xvii - pablo neruda

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Look, Tim Bradford did not get attracted to rookies, okay? In all the years he had been a TO, none had grabbed his attention. Not when he and Isabelle were dating, or married, or when she disappeared into the night with a trail of illicit affairs and a shot of heartache for him. Dozens of young women had sat in that car beside him and never ever had he let their femininity distract him. He served his country. He fought wars overseas. He looked Death right in the eye every single day and never blinked.

But then came officer Lucy Chen. He instantly knew the type of cop she’d be the second she turned in her seat, meeting his gaze for the first time, and nervously smiled at him. Nerves were normal, he was aware, but the doe-eyed look and the hopeful grin sold her out. No mystery. Just another young cop that would either slip through the cracks by the exam by tanking their grade due to stress, or she’d become a desk duty cop — one that stayed far from danger, that handled life with a perpetual softer touch ‘cause of her shrink parents.

Nothing wrong with that, Bishop would chastise him. Every cop had its use, she’d add. Sure, that might be true, but Tim didn’t want to babysit an armed toddler waiting for it to cry and call for mom. With just a couple well-placed Tim-tests, she’d be out of his hair in no time and then he could cross his fingers for a better recruit in the following weeks.

Life had the ability to change in a snap though — their funny, yet stern reminder that the universe called the shots, not the gun in his holster, or the rulebook. He got shot. Officer Chen backed him up. Her stubborn, yet brazen, yet honest attitude reeled him in just enough to ignore her little quirks she always joyfully displayed in the shop. Whenever he didn’t nip her ramblings in the bud fast enough, she babbled on and on about her personal life, her personal issues and relationships, like they were best friends (They weren’t! Boots and him never befriended!), like their relationship was anything more than a transactional training period. They got each other’s six. That was it.

But fuck, man. She got under his skin, too.

Lucy wore this… really nice perfume. A lot of female officers had make-up and perfume on, allowed a small sliver of self-expression, and he and Lopez had spend countless hours in a shop together. He was used to it. But somehow, Lucy’s stuck in his nose and didn’t leave. He felt like a creep, thinking about the blend of cardamom and oranges and cherry blossoms mixing with her warm skin, uncontrollable while also wanted. He wanted to fantasise about that fucking perfume of hers, a realisation that took a long time to come to terms with.

That didn’t mean he liked her though — he quickly corrected himself the first time he caught the pattern of behaviour — all it meant was that Lucy had good taste in perfume. Case closed.

So why did he linger whenever her shimmery eyes flicked up at him, why did his breath catch in his throat when her voice dropped to that infuriating sincerity as she uttered words of appraisal? Why his heart go haywire when she recorded all those audio books for him; an out of line gesture and overzealous task for a boot, which would normally result in him laughing their face.

Tim never thought he’d get over Isabelle, nor did he ever believe he’d have his happily ever after with Rachel, but with Lucy he foolishly hoped for more. A more that came from such a stupid and deluded place, probably fostered through months of loneliness and the Pavlovian response to her perfume, but one he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. The man was always in control about everything, ran his own tests and went over every possible outcome every day, every hour — and yet he didn’t see her coming. Lucy Chen had been right under his nose and he hadn’t been prepared for the ground to disappear beneath his feet; something that should honestly get him fired. The callousness of his emotions while entertaining the idea of a relationship with his own boot sentenced him straight to P2 or desk duty, or whatever.

Lucy deserved someone better, anyway.

Someone that understood her love for sage and cleansing homes. Someone that liked veggie burgers, chai lattes, karaoke nights and social media lurking. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate for one second to open her door for a teenage girl in need of safety and a little bit of that Chen-love. Someone that wasn’t any of those firemen assholes, but wasn’t Tim either.

He never let his insecurities get the best of him, but after seeing her thrive as a P2 without him, handling undercover stints like a pro, conquering her trauma of being buried alive, it only showcased that she had more bravery in her index finger than some army members had in their entire body, all while staying innately kind. Of course Tim lost his mind over her. Of course he tried shaping officer Barnes to be more like Lucy — more sun and bite and charisma, less army BS. Of course, of course, of course. Even Rosalind, the person he hated most besides Caleb, had him figured out in seconds. He was obvious as hell.

Which was why he had to move stations. Away from the Mid-Wilshire Division and to another. He couldn’t be around her anymore and risk compromising missions or attacks. He didn’t tell Angela the details, though her knowing look said enough, and simply replied that she’d miss him and that she was sure the chief would happily reinstate him any time.

He should’ve known that information leaked through like a wildfire.

The morning of his resignment, uniform neatly folded in his locker, Lucy stopped him in the hallway with the most befuddled expression he’d ever seen.

“What?” he said.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “You’re leaving and I have to hear it from Angela? Why’re you…? You love this division. Is everything okay?”

Shouldering past her, he drawled over his shoulder: “Everything’s fine, officer Chen. I’d advise you to put on your uniform and get to roll call.”

“Don’t pull this crap with me,” she bit back, latching onto his arm before he was out of reach. His feet reflexively stopped in place, stupidly waiting on her to finish her train of thought. “Tim, you can tell me if something’s wrong. We’ve been through… way too much for you to act this cold with me.”

He scoffed, feigning mockery, and put his hands on his hips. “We? Chen, I was your TO. That’s it. Get it out of your head it was more.”

Lucy blinked, once, twice, a hurt expression crossing her features, followed by disbelief and a quiet contempt he had become awfully familiar with. Swallowing back the regret, he watched as she pursed her lips and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Hard not to, officer Bradford,” she muttered. Turning to the locker rooms, she added, “Talk to me when you’re ready to not be an asshole.”

That should’ve been his cue to let her go and resume his trek to sergeant Grey, but a whiff of her fragrance wafted in his face from her dancing curls and any sensical thought was knocked out his head. He wanted to embrace her and burrow his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her with intent, he wanted to kiss the scent off her skin. His feet followed her instead, both fully aware and totally impulsive at once. He chose the excuse of loving a good argument with her to then utter: “I’m not an asshole, Chen. I’m honest.”

“If you’re honest, you’d admit that we’ve been very close friends these past months,” she exhaled, refusing to look him in the eye. He supposed he deserved that. Stopping in front of her locker, she continued with, “Distorting your own reality to fit your macho narrative isn’t healthy. Also, this is the women’s locker room. Out. Now.”

Tim sputtered out a laugh and crossed his arms. “Macho narrative? Please.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, all air sucked out the room at the intensity of her stare, and Tim felt himself flailing, suddenly wondering why the hell he wanted to turn in his badge when the only place he could have moments with lucy was, well, here. Why was he giving up on this, how silly it might be?

With a resolute voice, she said, “Tim, why are you resigning?”

Nothing in his entire career prepared him for this. Tim Bradford had survived Iraq and Afghanistan, twelve years of the LAPD and counting, a deadly virus, hundreds of bullets taken by the vest and felt the power of death on the blue lips of Lucy in the quiet countryside. Fear got pushed aside. Pride pulled him forward, onwards. But right now, he had to take a leap of faith — the sole thing he never relied on, but Lucy did — and trust she’d be there after the fall.

(He wanted to be that amazing someone for her.)

“Because of you,” he whispered. His fight or flight told him to run for the first time in forever, but he kept his feet glued to the floor.

Her jaw fell slack in shock. “E-excuse me? Me?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” he spit. “You… you’re…” Tim sighed. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

Faltering, her brows furrowed in utter confusion, a grain of her fury replaced with compassion. He wasn’t sure if that was warranted. All he was trying to do was get it off his chest, confess, before it escalated to insurmountable heights. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Uh…”

“You’re resigning, because I’m the best?” she tried to deduce. “No offense, any other day I’d be dancing right now, but this is just…” She gestured at him. “So weird.”

Tim let out a miserable sigh and ripped the band-aid off. Fuck it. “I’m trying to be honest about my feelings, Lucy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Her wonderstruck expression didn’t make him feel better, so he quickly added: “Which is why I gotta decrease the risk of this exploding in our faces and go.”

“Whoa!” Lucy’s hand wrapped around his, eyes wide and searching, like any empirical data would be found within his green irises, otherwise known as fondness and unresolved tension with every quiet moment they had. “Is this… another test? Are you getting back at me for pranking you?”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a P2 now. Tests are over.”

“Right,” she quipped, catching herself. She let go of him and nervously tucked a lock behind her ear. “Yeah. Okay. And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. O-kay. Let me, uh…” the locker swung open “… wrap my head around this.”

“It’s a pretty easy thing to—”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, okay.” He backed off, hating how the control was out of his hands now, how he practically shoved his heart in her grip and her pretty fingers could crush it to dust if she wanted to. “I’ll let you do that.”

Walking out the locker room, he took a deep breath and straightened up his face. Alright. He royally screwed that over. If his army buddies knew, they’d all laugh in his face and tease him for the rest of his life. But at least he told her and got his answer, that a relationship was off the table but that they could save their friendship once he switched divisions and some distance mended his twisted, inside-out heart. Lucy had rocked his world and all she had to do was exist.

“Tim!”

“Wha— wow!”

Her body crashed into him the second he turned around to her beautiful voice, Lucy’s arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her level ‘til all he experienced were her sweet eyes and breathless smile and a kiss. Lucy kissing him, slow and tentative, but it lit his heart aflame and urged him to hold onto her. Her perfume was all-encompassing, nose full of the fragrance and the soft slope of her neck and long, brown hair and fuck, he was kissing Lucy Chen. Except he didn’t care if the entire precinct idly watched by, or if she yanked him out the building on impulse, or anything — ‘cause he was kissing her and it was perfect. Her plump lips were better than he ever imagined.

Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, arms and then his hands, squeezing. His forehead pressed against hers, embarrassingly weak in the knees from that incredible kiss that he didn’t dare to stand up straight. Two silly grins broke loose on their faces. He had no clue what to do now, or not do, but he did know he wanted her. He wanted everything.

Lucy decided for him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Tim smiled. “Okay.”

[reh-sa]

A Moonlit Bath - A Captive Princess AU

TW: Mentions of forced marriage, including vague mentions of possible marital r*pe // Very vague mentions of suicide 

The most desirable bachelorette in all of Vere is called Laurene.

She might be known to be a sullen princess, but as the only living child of former king Aleron, her beauty is only matched by her dowry and the man who will marry her will inherit it all. So naturally, when her uncle made his vows to her, no one was under the illusion it was out of love. He is ruling as the king de facto since, locking his niece tightly away, as he can only keep his position and wealth as long as he owns her. Laurene has been living a very secluded life since, miserably being a prisoner in her own home.

It is not until Damia, crown princess of Akielos, visits the Veretian court that Laurene realizes how truly miserable she is. Damia is so strong and free, and she walks so confidently among her lines. Laurene can do nothing but watch her from the shadows with envy.

Meanwhile, Damia is surprised by how little glimpses she catches of the mysterious Veretian princess. Dead-set on wanting to meet a great beauty like hers, she starts searching Arles for the hidden princess...

...but it turns out to be an arduous task. Damia is told the princess Laurene is locking herself up in her room all day, mad with grief for still not being with child, but Damia believes it is a lie. One day, she passes the doctor Paschal on his way to the princess’ chambers, delivering a fertility potion that oddly looks and smells like utterly unfertile moon tea. 

“Dana,” Nikandros sighs. “I think you are reading too much into this. Don’t take this the wrong way, but did it occur to you they might keep you away from her because you have a reputation as a wife-stealer? The king would not be the first man to find his lady in your bed. Some may take offense in that. I’d like to remind you of that incident with Kyra.”

“The bigger offense is that these lords do not know how to please their ladies,” Damia shrugs. And then, after a moment: “Who was Kyra again?”

But eventually, fortune favors Damia one starry night.

She fantasized countless times about meeting the princess on a balcony, perfumed with the scent of the night flowers welling up in the air. But it turns out Damia would encounter Laurene in a place she did not think of yet: the baths. 

Since there were no lights ignited inside, Damia believed herself alone for a moment upon entering, but her eyes quickly adjust to the moonlight, drawn to the silver figure in the glowing pool. Princess Laurene is even more ethereal than the rumours, wet hair clinging to a well-balanced face, her milky body disappearing into the scented water. Droplets are dancing over her curves, more beautiful and shinier than pearls. For a moment, the image in front of Damia’s eyes is one of utter serenity. But as sweet as the Veretian princess looks, she is quick to reach for a dagger hidden inside her pool when she hears Damia approaching. 

“Like what you see?” she purrs with the voice of a siren.

“Very much,” Damia answers truthfully, “though the dagger is quite worrisome. Since I heard of the case of Queen Yseult, I get nervous when I see a melancholy princess alone at night in the baths with a dagger.”

That earns her a sheepish look, and Laurene genuinely blushes.

“I…I did not want to…Queen Yseult did it because she was about to birth a bastard. I’m not with child.”

“So I have heard. And I would express my sympathies, princess, if not for the moon tea you have been drinking,” Damia says.

The dagger Laurene throws cuts through the serenity in a swift motion, faintly striking Damia’s cheek until it comes to a rest in the wall behind her.

“What do you want from me?!” Laurene snaps. “If it was just to see my tits, you have seen them now. Your goal is accomplished and you can gloriously return to your chambers. I ensure you, there is no need to spy on me further.”

“Oh no, actually…” Damia says while wiping the blood from her cheek, “I came to take a bath.” 

And with that, she unbuckles the pin on her chiton, the fabric slipping to the ground and revealing her naked body all at once, muscle upon muscle. As Damia walks down the steps into the water, she faintly notices from the corner of her eye that Laurene is staring at her, until the princess seems to remember in some charming display of Veretian modesty to look away. Her blush spreads even further, and Damia cannot help the bit of amusement she is feeling at that. Without a blade in her hand, Laurene seems to be much more tame.

“Also,” Damia continues, the tension in her limbs unwinding in the warm water, “I hoped to make a friend here. I am tired of having conversations with old men all day, and I think your husband does not like me. It is good to talk to another woman for once. Can I use your soap? I’ve left mine in my chambers”. “Have it,” Laurene nags, throwing the little piece of soap at her, and quickly averting her eyes again. 

Veretian soaps are wonderful, made from rich and creamy almond milk with a hint of cinnamon, and so very different from the Akielon olive soaps. Even somebody like Damia can appreciate these Veretian niceties. She starts to lather herself until she is covered in luxurious foam, and for a moment there is no sound but the soft rippling of water. Eventually, it is the Veretian princess who breaks the silence.

“I have never seen a woman as muscular as you. If you didn’t have the tits, I would almost believe it was an oxen intruding my baths. Are all Akielon women build like that?” she asks, quite brazen. Damia cannot help but to grin at her rudeness. She loves that the princess has a mouth on her.

“No...I can assure you we too have some sweet, fickle maidens. But I like the competition.”

“The competition in sports, or in conquering fickle maidens?” Laurene asks.

“Both, sometimes,” Damia smiles. “I think wrestling is wonderful. Sports, I mean. It is easy to learn but hard to master. You don’t even have to have my physique, mind you, that is merely a preference. In summer, we host tournaments with challengers from all over the world. There are even women from the warrior clans of the mountains of Vask coming. And some challengers give themselves the most pretentious nicknames, you cannot imagine. Especially the men! The celebrations go on and on for days, there are competitions at day and food and drink at night. And I haven’t even started to tell you about the Okton, where we compete with different weapons on horseback-”

“Are you good with weapons? What kind of horses?” Laurene blurts. She likes to hear stories from the world outside, Damia thinks to herself.

“I shall explain it to you. But tell me first, princess, why is it you never seem to see the daylight? You would think a man with a wife looking like that would parade her through the city as if she was an expensive steed. No offense. Yet, I did not see you at the banquet, nor in the gardens or at the dance. Why is that?”

“Maybe I am simply not fond of company, princess Damia,” Laurene answers in a cutting tone.

“Oh, please call me Dana.”

“I call you however it pleases me. And for that sake, I am not fond of intruders into my baths either.”

“My apologies, princess,” Damia says. “I was not aware you would bathe at such late hour. And your baths are so lovely, I wanted to see them for myself. Those patterns are simply dazzling. Yours have depictions of naked women on the walls. In the other baths I have seen, there were nothing but cocks.”

That earns her a giggle from Laurene, as much as she tries to keep her sullen facade up. The Veretian princess might look like a shy nymph, but seems to be quite naughty. Damia decides that she likes that. 

She wonders if she can go one step further.

“Princess Laurene. After showing me your baths, I wondered if you would be willing to show me the markets in the city as well. I’d love to get my hands on these colorful Veretian sweets you make from syrup and rosewater. How about tomorrow? You could dress up as a peasant girl and sneak out. Nobody will notice.”

“Lovely. Like in a fairytale,” Laurene says. “If I could overcome the minor inconvenience of not being able to leave the palace by dressing up as a peasant girl, I would use it to flee the country, not to buy candy on a market.”

That has Damia alerted.

“So much for the dislike of company. You are even willing to flee your own country?” she asks. “You can get a divorce, you know. I believe nobody likes being married to their own uncle, especially one that never lets you outside, and I don’t see the political gain for you either. So what is with that match?”

Laurene sighs. “If I didn’t know my uncle hated women so much, especially those in power, I would believe he had sent you to spy on me. But I am inclined to believe you are here out of your own free will and your raging pheromones, so I’m telling you. Yes, I could get a divorce, but there is one problem. The Veretians fear nothing as great as bastardy. If I happened to be with child at the time of the divorce, the curse still applies. I need to proof to the court I am not pregnant by being physically and geographically distant from him for…”

“...nine months?”

“Exactly. You are learning the Veretian customs fast. He knows this of course, which is why he is locking me up. Silly, isn’t it? I need to stay miles and miles away from my lord husband before they believe me I am not pregnant, as if breathing the very same air as a man’s could leave me with child. And as long as the gods and the moon tea do not fail me, that shall not happen,” Laurene explains bitterly.

“That is terrible,” Damia replies in all honesty.

“Don’t look so sad. I had a brother once, and he was very brave. I am brave, too. And I know there will be an opening for me, one day. If a foreign princess can stroll into my baths just like that, I shall be able to do the same but in reverse.” And then, in a whisper: “I’ve been even studying the sword.”

“You have?”, Damia hums, smiling at the thought of the princess strapped in a Veretian breastplate. Laurene nods, so proud that she is not able to suppress a smile herself, soft crimson coloring her cheeks. It was very charming.

“But it is difficult. There is a man from my Princess’ Guard I’ve been seeing- ...oh, don’t make that face, not like that. He teaches me. But I can only meet him in secret, since I must not be with a man alone and there is no woman here to teach me. I’ve wondered…” Laurene says, abruptly breaking off. 

When she doesn’t continue speaking, Damia asks: “You’ve wondered?”

“Ah-...No, it’s nothing,” she blurts.

Suddenly, Laurene rises, water dripping from her golden hair, a view that is dazzling Damia once again.

“I’m sorry, but I have to retreat to my chambers now. I’ve been here for so long, they will wonder where I’ve been,” the princess says.

Damia simply nods, watching as Laurene emerges from the water and towels herself down in a very practical way, without a hint of sensuality. Just as she was about to leave through the door, she turns one last time.

“Dana,” Laurene says, a little shy, and Damia is dizzily struck by an emotion she cannot quite identify upon hearing her nickname from Laurene’s lips. 

“You were right. It was pleasant to talk to another woman for once.” And then, a little hesitant: “I like to take baths at midnight. Goodnight.”

Damia nods, smiling at the hint.

“Goodnight, princess. Sleep well.” 

And with that, the ornamental doors close and Damia is left alone in the pool. 

She closes her eyes and lets herself float freely in the water, the moonlight casting patterns on her body. The baths feel so vast and empty suddenly, as if the princess herself was the one whose presence had lightened them up. Now, she was nothing but a faint dream. But Damia will meet her again at the next moon. She had said so.

In the silence of the night, a memory surfaced to her mind of what Nikandros had said earlier to her. 

She was not called Damia wife-stealer for no reason.

[jawritter]

Curves...

Requested by: @prettysourabbie​ 

Can I request a Dean Winchester x plus size reader, where she really shy and dorky but believes that she really bad at sex because she is bigger? And dean shows her that she not 😊💕 I hope this makes sense haha! I know this sound awkward turtle 🐢

Word Count: 4036

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: Smut!, unprotected sex, insecure reader, self-hate, plus-sized reader, unrequited/requited love, angst, self-loathing, fluff.

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine! Please don’t copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you guys enjoy this one. 

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

*****MASTERLIST*****

Sitting alone in the cold and mostly dark library of the bunker, you waited for the return of your two favorite boys. 

Sam and Dean Winchester. 

You’d been working as the researcher for the Winchesters, and well most other hunters in the area, for years.  

You were raised in the life, but you weren’t ever like your average hunter. You weren’t skinny, or athletic, with perfect aim, perfect stamina that it takes to chase down and kill all that shit that goes bump in the night. Much to your father’s dismay, you were always a little on the heavier side. 

It’s not like all you did was sit on your ass, and eat or something either, it’s just how you were built, you couldn’t control it, no matter how much you exercised, ran, ate all that healthy crap; it did no good. You always maintained the same weight. 

Which was… Well… Let’s face it… 

Not exactly the standards of The Next Top Model.

Your stomach wasn’t flat and perfect, your hips were on the wider side, your thighs thicker than your average girl. You weren’t exactly small chested. You were just naturally larger than your average person. Even though you barely tipped the scales at five feet tall.

Your dad said you’d never be good for anything if he couldn’t marry you off, because you were too heavy for “breeding,” which was common in hunting compounds like the one you grew up on, and you couldn’t hunt, then you were useless to him. 

He’d left you at a bar just outside of Seattle, Washington. That’s where you meet your rescuer, and honestly, your favorite of your two favorite boys. 

Dean.

He saw you sitting outside of the side of the bar crying because you didn’t know what you were going to do, he didn’t hesitate to take you in just like you were one of them when he’d heard your story, taking you to your new home, the bunker. 

Instead of discouraging your skills in research, he embraced it. 

Sam helped you get started in this overload of information that the men of letters had collected, your personal heaven honestly, and you’d been here ever since; doing what you could to help the boys behind a computer, a lore book, or a phone. 

You were happy here with your life, mostly anyway. It suited you, and Dean always made sure you wanted for nothing. He would always go out of his way to take care of you, no matter what you needed or wanted.

It didn’t take you long to fall for the overly gorgeous elder Winchester. 

His smile, his bright jade green eyes, that adorable shading of freckles that covered his skin, dusting even his nose, and checks; giving him almost a boyish look. His infectious laugh, his soft auburn hair, the way he cared more about others than he ever could himself.

You had learned to love everything about him, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even though there were parts of his past that were darker than he’d ever let anyone know. Even though there were things that had happened to him, that had affected him to the uttermost part of his being. 

You loved him anyway. 

Past all flaws, and beyond all reason.

Of course, you never told Dean that. Hell no. You’d never tell Dean any of that. 

Dean liked girls that were supermodel types. 

Bleach blonde, toned bodies, too much makeup, and cheap perfume. Easy lays basically. 

You were none of that. 

You didn’t have the confidence that those girls had, so you just never even tried with Dean. The two of you had a good relationship going, and you just be happy with that, and not do anything like confess your feelings to mess it all up.

The loud opening and closing of the bunker door pulled you from your self-loathing. You hurriedly straightened your glasses, fixed your messy bun, and checked to make sure your led zeppelin t-shirt, that you had borrowed from Dean and yet to have returned, had no stains on it.

You’d been researching some stuff for Garth on a strange case he was working on, probably a Djinn from the looks of it, and hadn’t really gotten yourself together today. You were still in your favorite PJ pants and fuzzy slippers.

"Hey Y/n,” Sam greeted you as he flopped down in the chair across from you, taking his boots off. 

“Hey, where is Dean?” you asked him, listening for, but not hearing the elder Winchester anywhere.

“Dean, uh... Went out. Said he needed to blow off some steam. It was a pretty rough hunt for him... I’m sorry Y/n, I know you hate it when he  goes out and does this…” Sam said, letting his sentence trail off before finishing it.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, nod your head, reopening your laptop, burying yourself in your work. 

You couldn’t look up at Sam, who you knew was staring at you with some pitiful look, and you didn’t want his pity. You knew your place, and Dean’s arms, even though you wanted to more than anything, would never be your place.

Sam was no idiot, he knew you had feelings for his brother. He just didn’t know what to say to make it better for you right now.

So he got to his feet, patted you on the shoulder, and then made his way to his room for the night. 

You worked through the tears streaming down your face when he was out of sight until your eyes burned too bad to keep working, and your head hurt from crying. So you made your way to your room, and crawled into the bed, the cold lonely bed, and fell into a restless sleep. Your heart beating like it was going to just give up and stop any minute. 

You laid there torturing yourself. Wondering what she looked like? Would she hold him when it was over? Would she be enough to comfort him the way he deserved? Would she play with his hair while he sleeps like you want to do? Would she realize how lucky she was to be in his arms? Cause some people, like yourself, would never get that chance.

—————————–

The next morning you made your way into the kitchen. Your head is still pounding, and your eyes are still red. 

You were wondering if Dean had made it home yet, but you didn’t have to wonder very long. 

As soon as you rounded the corner there he was, probably still in last night’s clothes, pouring a cup of coffee.

For a moment you faltered by the door, and started to just turn around, and go back to your room. 

You didn’t know if you could face him right now, you knew you looked like a whole mess. Last night was harder on you with him going out than it was ever. Maybe it was because it had been so long since you’d seen him. Maybe it was because he had texted you the day before he headed back to Kansas, and promised a movie night when he got home. He must have needed to get laid more than he needed his friend.

You turned around to head back towards your room, but Dean had heard you. His hunter reflexes are faster than your feet. 

Damn him.

“Hey, sweetheart! Want me to pour you a cup of coffee?” Dean said, looking at you over his shoulder, that smile that could stop your heart on his perfect pink lips, lips that some other woman was kissing last night. The signs of that visible with the deep purple hickey that was poking out just under the collar of his shirt.

You just nod, not trusting your voice. 

Dean poured you a cup of coffee and fixed it the way you liked. You wondered how he knew that. You didn’t remember ever telling him how you liked your coffee, he just always seemed to know. 

You made your way over to the table in the corner of the room, and Dean brought your cup of coffee and set it down in front of you.

“So, I was thinking tonight we would lock ourselves in the Dean cave, and do that Harry Potter marathon you’ve been talking about. I’ll order some pizzas and…Y/n, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

You cursed yourself for being so damn obvious this morning. You just shrug your shoulders, refusing to meet his gaze. 

“Did some asshole hurt you? Tell me his name! I’ll kick his ass!" 

You had to hold back a snicker at that because the mental image your mind painted of Dean kicking his own ass was quite amusing. 

"No one’s hurt me, Dean, I’m fine,” you tell him, making to get up with your coffee cup, and just head back to your room. 

“Bullshit Y/N, I’ve known you for years, we’re best friends. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

He looked at you pleadingly, and you sighed deeply before looking down at your coffee cup.

“I just let myself get all in my head last night. I’m fine now. I’m just tired. I think I’m going to go and lay down for a little bit. We’ll do whatever you said you wanted to do tonight,” you said as Sam walked past you, giving you an apologetic look. 

Sam was the kind of person who was not going to get in the middle of it, so he just continued to make his way to the refrigerator after his morning run.

“Are you sure you’re okay? ‘Cause you don’t look okay, Sweetheart. Maybe I could just come keep you company, and cuddle with you like we used to while you rest, or until you feel better.” 

Dean made his way over to you while he was taking, and wrapped his arms around you.

As soon as he did you jerked back from him. He looked down at you confused and hurt, but he smelt like her perfume and it made your stomach lurch, bile rose in your throat at the thought of how it got there.

“No offense Dean, but you need a shower,” you said coldly and turned walking back to your room, leaving a very confused and hurt looking Dean, and a somewhat amused Sam. 

Probably because he thought Dean deserved that. 

You wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Dean, but you didn’t know if it wouldn’t totally rip your heart out, especially with him smelling so much like her. 

—————————————–

After about two hours of you crying yourself to the point, you weren’t able to cry anymore in the darkness of your room, hating your weight, hating that you weren’t good enough, hating the fact that you had to wear glasses all the time, hating the fact that you were a nerd, and always were a nerd. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you had skipped breakfast this morning, but you didn’t want to run into the boys again, so you had just resolved to lay there when you hear your door open, and close softly.

You could smell Dean’s body wash as he made his way quietly as possible over to the side of your bed. Your back was to him, and the door, cover pulled high up to your chin, your hair pretty much blocking your face from his view.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” Dean whispered. 

You didn’t move, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t really have time to before Dean pulled the cover back, and you felt the bed dip under his weight. Your heart rate jumped up through the roof as his scent surrounded you, and he pulled the covers back over himself and you.

“I showered…I… I don't smell like her anymore… I made Sam check to make sure,” he said, moving his way over closer to you in a spooning position, wrapping his arm around you gently, and pulling himself closer to you.

Your heart was beating so hard now you were sure he could feel it through your ribs, even with all your “extra padding” as you called it. 

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you say something to me before? I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t know. I would have much rather come home to you than run to some whore that literally meant nothing to me." 

You made a mental note to kill Sam.

"Sam told you didn’t he,” you almost whispered, your stomach was in a knot at this point. What the fuck was he trying to tell you? You couldn’t do for him what he needed.

“Yeah, but in his defense, you left me standing there torn between hunting down whatever random dude that had hurt you that you weren’t telling me about, and trying to scrap my pride up off the floor,” Dean said. 

It took all you had not to flinch at that. You shouldn't have snapped at Dean, but you couldn’t stand the smell of her either. 

“I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have taken my feelings out on you. You have every right to have sex with whoever you want. She could probably do more for you than I ever could. I know you are not attracted to me. I’m not blind. You don’t have to come in here, and say all those things just to make me feel better,” you said, refusing to turn around and look at him. 

You felt Dean sit up, and for a moment you thought he was going to get up and leave, shattering your heart even further. 

Instead of getting up and leaving, Dean rolled you over to your back with more ease than you thought would have been possible, and straddle your hips with his thighs. Bracing his weight off of you with his hands on either side of your head. You stared into his piercing eyes for a moment in shock. He looked cross between hurt and angry.

“Let me tell you a little something about that whore that you said could do so much better than you for me. Yeah, I fucked her, I’m not even gonna try and deny it, but after she was done I got up and got dressed to go jerked myself off in the car because some whore isn’t gonna get all of me Sweetheart believe that. I’d give my damn right arm to have you, what the fuck do you mean I’m not attracted to you? Every time we’re watching TV together I’m fighting to hide my boner because I didn’t want to freak you out. I wouldn’t be in here with you right now if I didn’t want to be. Why the hell do you think so low of yourself?” 

Dean was still hovering over you, so many emotions on his face that it was impossible to read them all.

“Dean, I’m fat. I’m no good at sex. I couldn’t get you off if I tried to. You still would have ended up having to go and finish yourself off. Very few men want to touch this, very few ever have.” 

You tried to avoid his gaze out of your own shame. Hating yourself at that moment more than ever.

“What? Fat? Baby girl, you are NOT fat. You're gorgeous,” Dean said as he reached and grabbed your wrist, bringing your hand down to his crotch, and resting it over the impressive bulge that had formed his sweats. 

You did vaguely register that he’d skipped the underwear. 

He felt huge, and you couldn’t stop your eyes widening. 

You always figured that Dean was packing, but damn.

“Does that feel like someone who isn’t attracted to you? Baby, I can’t tell you the nights I’ve thought about you just to get off. About kissing every curve, every inch of skin,” his hands let go of your wrist as he trailed them down your sides, and over your up to your breast, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at his light touch.

“Dean,” you said cautiously, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers trailing lightly over your stomach, the part of your body that you hated the most. 

“Let me show you just how beautiful you are, Sweetheart,” he said, his voice husky and deep. His tongue running slowly over his lower lip as his eyes roamed your body. “Let me show you just how much I’ve always wanted you since the night I met you.”

You laid there underneath him completely dumbfounded for a moment. Finally, all you could do was shake your head yes. 

If you were dumb enough to turn him down now, you would lose him, and your heart couldn’t handle it, it would crush you. So here you were, going to take a chance, and do what you so desperately wanted to do for so long. 

Let Dean love you. 

Dean didn’t hesitate, reaching down grabbing your shirt and pulling it off and over your head, throwing it to the floor. His eyes rack over your body, looking down at your bare chest, you immediately try to cover up, regretting not putting a bra on this morning.

“No, no, pretty girl, don’t hide from me,” Dean said, bending down, and capturing your lips in his with a sweet kiss, slowly kissing away some of the worries, and insecurity. 

Moving his hands down your body he pulled the waistband of your PJs and underwear down your body in one pull, leaving you completely exposed before him. Keeping your mouth busy as his tongue invaded your mouth, kissing you drunk, exploring every inch of your mouth like he’d never get to do it again. 

When he finally had to pull up for air you noticed that his sweats were gone. His thick length standing proudly against his shirt, and slapping his stomach as he pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

You didn’t have time to get nervous before his mouth was on you again, kissing you deeply, needier than the first time. 

Making his way from your mouth to your throat he sucked his mark onto your neck, one that you’d wear proudly, one you’ve wanted for so long. 

He continued kissing his way down your body, licking at each nipple before sucking them into his mouth, sending a sensation you’d never felt before jolting through your body. Your back arching to meet his hard chest. Little moans fell from your lips as his mouth continued the assault on your hard nipples. 

Satisfied with his work, he began to move down your stomach. Kissing and nipping at the skin there, worshiping your body like no one ever had, kissing your hips, your tights. 

That’s when it hit you where he was.

“Dean, don’t!” you said, right before his mouth made contact with your already dripping core. 

Dean stopped immediately, moving back up your body, placing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss, slower this time than before. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just not there yet. Not tonight,” you said as he pulled away to look at you, your embarrassment filling your checks.

“That’s okay Baby, we’ve got all the time in the world. If you want to stop we can stop,” he said, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I don’t want to stop, I’m just not ready for that specifically. It’s gonna take time,” you said, he nodded his head, kissing your neck and running his tongue along the shall of your ear. 

“That’s okay baby girl, I’m not going to stop loving you, and eventually, I’m going to make you forget all that insecurity you’ve got built up inside. Even if it takes years. I’m a patient man,” Dean said, slipping his fingers down your body, and finding your swollen clit with his thumb as he pushed two tick digits deep side of you, working you slowly, your hips rolling against his hand on their own as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that stop no one has been able to reach before. 

He didn’t stop playing your body like a well-tuned instrument until you were coming undone around him, and your walls squeezing his fingers as your orgasm ripped through your body, leaving you a panting shaking mess underneath him as he worked you through your high.

Peppering your face with little kisses he let you come down completely before lining himself up with you, sinking deep inside of you in one smooth thrust. Stretching you, filling you in every way. His thick tip is sitting against your cervix. You could almost feel him pulsing inside of you.

“Fuck, your so tight baby girl,” he husks in your ear, kissing your lips in a tender kiss before grabbing your hips, and rolling you over on top of him like you weighed nothing at all. A surprised squeak leaving your lips.

“Dean, no I’m going to hurt you,” you said, feeling silly, and embarrassed as you sat astraddle of his hips, his cock buried deep inside of you.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Baby. I want you to know just how capable you are of taking care of me, please,” he said, reaching up and kissing the skin of your stomach before grabbing your hips, and rocking your hips with his strong hands. 

All thought processes flew right out the window at that point. 

His tip moves over your most sensitive spots in the most amazing, almost overwhelming to the point of painful, but still pleasurable way, your clit dragging over his hilt with each drag of your hips. Soon you were rocking back and forth against him on our own without any assistance whatsoever. Your bodies molded together like they were meant to be.

Dean’s head was thrown back against the pillow, the veins in his neck visible, and his jaw tightly locked. 

He was beautiful. 

Completely lost in what your body was doing for him.

 Something you never knew was possible, never thought you would ever see, or experience first hand. Just something they wrote about in cheesy romance novels, and fanfiction.

Before long you right at the edge your body shaking on top of him. The sounds and noises that were falling from both of your lips were enough to make a porn star blush. Dean's grip on your hips was now strong enough that you were sure it would leave bruises. You didn’t care though. You let him hold onto you as he fucked himself up into you as you rode him, closer and closer to both of your ends. 

Dean cursed he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down close to him as he slammed himself up into you and stilled. Spilling himself deep inside of you. His seed coating your walls in warm streams, throwing you into your own end. Waves of pleasure rolling over you both as he slowly thrust into you, dragging out both of your highs.

When both of you had control of your bodies again, Dean rolled you both over to your side, his arms never leaving you. He peppered your face and neck with little opened mouth kisses as he slowly pulled out of your body, and you couldn’t help but whine a little at the loss of contact.

Dean’s lips found yours in a sweet, but searing kiss as his hands started to trace the curves of your body, while still holding onto you tightly. Not breaking the kiss until the need for oxygen became to grate.

“I love you y/n, I have since the moment I met, and I know I’m not much, and I don’t have anything to offer you, the life we live… It’s just not your white picket fence life, but all I have is yours if you will have me. You know how hard it is for me to admit my feelings, but sweetheart, I’ve never been more sure of anything in all of my life.”

A single tear that made its way down your cheek. One that Dean caught, and wiped away with the gentle movement of his thumb over your cheek. 

“I love you too, I’m yours, I always have been, always will be.”

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

Tag List: 

@deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​

[straycat-writes]

the one real thing (dazai osamu)

summary: What a tragedy it is that you both love each other a little too much for your own good.

warning(s): swearing, infidelity(??), a shit load of angst

The creaking sound from your door opening and closing awoke you from your light slumber. Instead of moving, however, you just lied on your bed, lips pressed into a thin line. You wanted to get up and go to him, you should have, but the storm of conflicting emotions in your head didn’t allow you to.

In the 2 AM darkness of your bedroom, you heard him clumsily fumbling with his clothes and cursing slightly under his breath. A few minutes later, Dazai dropped into bed beside you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to himself, your back to his front. You frowned in the pin-drop silence.

After a while, you finally managed to say something, “I made dinner for you.”

“Yeah?” he murmured softly, “Well, maybe tomorrow, belladonna. I’m so tired.”

You screwed your eyes shut tightly, “F-fine.”

He was asleep within minutes. Prying his arm off your waist as gently as you could, you got up and stealthily left the room, wanting to be literally anywhere except beside your lover. Your feet unconsciously led you to the spacious bathroom of the apartment you shared with Dazai. Only when you went in and locked the door did you find yourself being able to breathe properly.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you finally looked up at the mirror. With disheveled hair and dark circles adorning your eyes, you looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks. Maybe you hadn’t. At this point, you couldn’t really remember.

This wasn’t the first time Dazai had come home at ungodly hours of the night. Far from it, actually. At first, you thought he was just busy, that maybe his workload was heavier than usual. But you couldn’t fool yourself with that lie for too long, everybody knows Dazai doesn’t do regular work, let alone overtime. You wanted him to have his space, so you didn’t say anything. Besides, he only does it once in a while, so what’s the harm, right?

But then he started disappearing for long hours every other night, and coming back home tipsy and disheveled, and worst of all, with someone else’s perfume on his clothes. And it hurt, goddamn it hurt more than anything had ever hurt before, but what could you do? Leave him? Of course not. How could you ever bring yourself to do that?

You gripped the porcelain sink in front of you tighter as tears blurred your vision. The two of you had been together for so long now that you could no longer imagine what your life would be like without him in it. That’s a lie. You could imagine it; it would be cold and sad and empty. You loved Dazai so much it hurt, and you just wished he would do the same, but apparently you were no longer enough for him.

You sighed and gave yourself a watery smile in the mirror, “That’s alright. I can live with that. I can – l-live with that….right?”

One more chance. You had promised yourself you would give him one more chance, but that was several chances ago and you would say that to yourself each time he stumbled back home and into your arms, with someone else’s lipstick staining his collar but not anymore.

“I can’t….” you whispered, a blank look on your face, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Dazai looked up at you and blinked from where he was busy taking off his shoes. It was two in the morning and he was late and slightly drunk and had stumbled back home for the umpteenth time that week and you were done.

“This.” You sighed weakly, gesturing vaguely to the both of you, “Us. I’m done. You can go back to whoever you’ve been fucking all this time, I won’t stop you.”

That seemed to sober him up instantly, “(Y/n), I – “

“Save it.” You said severely, but you couldn’t keep the tears at bay for long, “I have been with you for four years, you fucking asshole! Did all that time mean nothing to you!?”

“It did! Of course it did! I – “

“Didn’t think you should’ve kept it in your pants and been loyal for fucking once in your life!? I loved you!”

“I love you too, sweetheart!” he pleaded, and it scared you a little because in all the time you had been with him, you had never heard such desperation in his voice, “I love you, more than anything…”

“Then why!?” You screamed, tears cascading down your cheeks freely now, “Am I not enough for you? Are you bored? Is that it!?”

He didn’t say anything, but by the look on his face, you knew you had hit the nail right in the head, and your heart shattered into a million pieces. You covered your mouth with your hand and took a couple of steps backwards as more tears spilled from your eyes. Dazai moved to touch your arm but you that just made you flinch further back.

“Don’t touch me!” you cry, “Just…don’t.”

What really hurt was that Dazai didn’t say anything in his defense at all. He just stood there with a frown on his face, watching you shake with sobs, your eyes red and face tear-stained. Huh, guess I’m not even worth trying to hold on to. You almost let out an ironic laugh at that thought. You swallowed hard, blinking away more unshed tears as you forced yourself to look at him.

“…I’m leaving.”

He had been staring at his feet but jerked up his head at that, “What? No, belladonna, please…”

“Please what? Please stay? Please, I’m sorry? Please, I’ll be good?” you scoffed, words laced with venom, “Well, save your lies for someone who would believe them, because I don’t anymore.”

That night, you hastily packed the bare essentials, because you knew that if you delayed even a moment, your resolve would crumble and you would end up staying. And as you stormed out of the house, of the home you two shared, you knew that it was probably the last time you’d ever see your lover. Well, ex-lover.

You had been right about that, it was indeed the last time you ever saw him. Two years later, however, he did see you. Dazai had been dragged to the nearby district for a case by Kunikida. The moment his eyes had landed on you across the street, his heart had skipped a beat. Your hair was a lighter shade now, probably shorter too, and you looked healthier. Happier.

“Oi, Dazai! Focus!” Kunikida hit him on the head, before his eyes followed Dazai’s gaze and landed on you too, “…Oh.”

“Yeah.” Dazai murmured, “Oh, indeed.”

You didn’t seem to be aware of his presence across the street, much to his relief. You were with someone else, your new lover in all likelihood, if the way he smiled at you and held you by the waist were any indications. Dazai felt a sharp tug at his heart at that, and immediately despised himself for it, because really, did he even have the right to be sad now?

“Hadn’t she left Yokohama after you…you know?” Kunikida asked, looking deep in thought.

Dazai nodded, “She had. She must be back for a vacation or something.”

“You know what, Dazai?” Kunikida said after a while, grimacing to himself, “No offense, but you’re a despicable human being for what you did to her.”

Dazai smiled ruefully at that, “I know.”

I’m barely even a human being, he had wanted to add. His eyes travelled to you again. You were laughing at something your companion had said, and Dazai remembered how you hadn’t laughed like that for months before you left. Man, he really had been an asshole to you. But you were happier now, and that meant his goal was accomplished.

Getting you to leave him was hard. Dazai was, and always had been, a void. There was a black hole inside of him that swallowed every bit of happiness in his vicinity, both his own and that of others, and even though you were the brightest light he had ever seen in his life, light still couldn’t escape the pull of a black hole, and he didn’t want to taint you like that. Dazai had went through life destroying everything he ever touched. He was a void, an empty space, with edges so sharp he hurt everyone who came close.

The last thing he wanted was for you to be another casualty of his catastrophe of an existence. And so, two years ago, he had tried everything in his power to make you leave him, to drive away the one good thing he had in his life. Just because he had you doesn’t mean he deserved you.

But of course, he could never actually bring himself to even touch someone who wasn’t you. He would frequent bars, get just enough drunk so that you’d notice that he was, and fool around a little with someone, just enough for you to notice that he had. And then he’d come straight back home to you. He’d fall into bed beside you and hold you close, and he wouldn’t fail to notice how you’d tense up in his arms and sniffle softly, and it hurt, goddamn, it hurt more than anything had ever hurt before, but what else could he do? Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest choice on his part, but it was his only one.

You had stayed longer than he had expected you to. He had to keep pretending he was sleeping with someone else for months before you finally reached your limit. Dazai knew you well enough to know that you must have cried for weeks after you left, that you must have been completely wrecked.

But you were much happier, much better off now, with someone new. Someone who wouldn’t hurt you or inevitably break you like Dazai would have. Someone who wasn’t him.

“We need to go, Dazai.” Kunikida called out to him, already a few paces ahead and checking his notebook for all the stuff they still had to do.

He took one more glance at your retreating figure. Your companion had said something, making you smile and blush. Dazai felt warmth spreading in his chest. Kunikida called out to him again. He sighed.

“Coming.”

By the time you turned around to inspect why you felt like you were being stared at, there was no one across the street.

“'Cause there we are again, when I loved you so, back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known...” - All Too Well, Taylor Swift

[honestsycrets]

Seeking Sunlight | [ Hvitserk x Reader

❛ pairing | drug dealer!hvitserk x druggie!reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk came to sell his brother’s shitty boyfriend some drugs. he stays when someone catches his eye-- for all the wrong reasons.

❛  tags | drug use, drug dealing, serious dub!con (nothing graphic here), choking (slight), parties, lotta referenced sex, somewhat implied prostitution, slight abuse, lgbtqia+ characters: oleg, torvi, gunnhild, and ivar, minor violence, minor sexual content, party reference, dark fic to be, 18+, slight sadism?, offensive language, hvitserk is an asshole.

❛  sy notes | read the warnings.

He slid through clustered groups of people under the dismal light of the normal uppity and cheery backlights. Everyone he looks like another stranger in the grand scheme of it all, grinding ass against dick, or pussy against pussy, or maybe dick to dick. Hvitserk rubbed his eyes under the dark frames, dragging down the stairs from which a girl rushes past, straight to a group of bitches that look half-past toasted.

He breaches the bottom and heads past the sliding door where he hears his name shrilled out from behind a plastic neon cup. He looks up, realizing its Ivar sitting by his newest man, someone who had more problems than Ivar’s legs could ever have.

“Hey,” Hvitserk jogs toward the two. Oleg tilts up his hips, fisting out a roll of cash with one hand and with the other fondles his brother in places he never really needed to see. Ivar sucks down a cup of pink mystery punch.

“Hvitserrrrkkkk,” Oleg has this natural sing-song to his voice because he has everything and anything in control, that included Ivar. Something he thought he could never say before the man walked into the picture. “You have a little something there. Enjoyed Margrethe?”

He suppresses the sneer that’s snatched across his face, wiping his mouth of a little hot pink lipstick across his lip. “Enjoyed would be a stretch.” He snatches the money from Oleg, feeding it into his clip and stuffing it into his white hoodie pocket. Later, when he’d find somewhere, he’d put it one of his black steel-toed boots that wasn’t packing heat.

“She’s losing it, isn’t she?” Ivar says. He wishes he wouldn’t.

Hvitserk grunts, nodding his head like it’s with the wave of the obnoxious music beating in the distance, a few decades too early to be the old sugar daddy’s music. It’s not Ivar’s jazz, either. Hvitserk looks around, catching the sight outside, everyone that he’s known or should know.

“What you got for me, baby boy?”

Fuck-- he sneers at the name, rolls his lip into his mouth, then back out. “Your shit,” he quips quickly, fisting Oleg’s favourite out of the side pocket of his black slim jeans. Oleg takes it from him with the kind of broad smile that itches you.

“That’s my boy.”

He ignores that, too.

“I’ma go get a drink if it don’t bother you.”

Oleg slides open the ziploc, nodding his head toward the finely cut drug and flicking his hand out. He has what he wants. Ivar peers over at the bag as Hvitserk starts for the table where a topless woman is grinding her worries away. She looks happy now. Probably would sob later. “All good, Hvitserk.”

Hvitserk rolls on his heel, cocking a grin. “Why wouldn’ it be?”

He’s not even that thirsty-- but Oleg is a fuckin’ creep. He rather spend his time watching his ex-sister-in-law grind against his other ex-sister-in-law as it is when he jogs a little closer to Torvi and Gunnhild. Where’s Ubbe? He fists his hand into his pocket for his blunt.

Don’t know. Can’t care.

With a flick of a lighter he picked up two parties ago, he’s intent on working away all thought of him. When he turns around with his drink-- looking for a nice, safe, tree without jizz, he catches sight of eyes upon him.

Which, uh, why wouldn’t there be? But at the same time-- what did you want? Hvitserk takes a long sweep of his joint, maintaining eye contact the whole while. You’re pretty. Sad eyes, even from that distance, even if the warmth of a glittery smokey eye was trying its best to prove otherwise. He could only tell because you sat perched on one of Oleg’s questionably clean sofas a few leaps away, illuminated by the large floodlights. A skirt, cherry red, tight.

Good taste-- but talking to one of Oleg’s lackeys, pressing your hand to dangly earrings, pushing your breasts up for a nice look at what was under that draping blacktop. The ankle boots are cute, he decides. But you’re clearly working it up to Thing Two.

He huffs out smoke and looks at his cup.

“Hi,” he glances up.

Oh, hi. Your boots have sunk in the moist grass a little bit, but because he’s a fuckin’ gentleman, Hvitserk switches his just delights into one hand, and holds out the other to help you balance. “Not exactly the kinda space for boots, babe.”

“He’s a gentleman,” you laugh at first, then continue. “Most people don’t come to parties to hide in Oleg’s grass.”

Hvitserk snorts. From this angle, he can smell the drink on your lips. You’d been here a lot longer than he had, and that’s saying something. Maybe you’d been here as long as the couple fucking behind Oleg’s pristine hedges. Call it fertilizer, he’d say.

“Maybe not,” Hvitserk flicks his hand, motions for you to take it, and you do. He watches you press those silky lips, cherry red and chili hot, to it. The smoke plumes out between your lips, blowing in his face, but it doesn’t phase him.

“You want somethin’, don’t cha?”

You flick a loose curl behind your ear, looking at him behind expertly placed fake lashes, and he knows its not real. It’s another fucking hoax on top of the hundreds that were stomping around at this party.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, she fuckin’ says.” Like he’s that stupid-- or he doesn’t know-- you probably watched him with his tweaker brother and the creepy sugar daddy too. You let his hand loose to offer him back the blunt. He takes it, puts it out with ease, and stands up straight. “Talk short.”

“I saw you give Oleg some.”

“He paid. I gotta feeling you’re here because you can’t.” Hvitserk knows he’s leering now, shifting around, shifting you too against the tree. “What’re you offerin’?”

Before you can answer, there’s a rustle from the bushes beside you, and a couple slips loose. You flick your head toward them, maybe expecting him to cut you loose. Or maybe because someone’s seen you, you feel more comfortable.

“I got part?”

Hvitserk’s eyes open up, wide like they do, either annoyed or surprised. He traces the line of your jaw to the soft tickle of cheap earrings. “I didn’t pay for part a bag,” Hvitserk leans his fingers up, tracing the muscle in your throat up behind your ear, and gives it a tug.

“Please? I can-- give you something else.”

It’s cruel to derive the sort of pleasure that Hvitserk does at hearing that-- but please, pressed out between your lips, rushes straight through his body. “You seen me wit’ Margrethe.” His amusement manifests in a small rolling chuckle as his hand comes over your throat lazily, and you settle those sad eyes over him, and fuck he could get used to that. “That’s a prior arrangement. Unlike what you sluts might think--”

“I’m not--”

“--I don’t fuck just anyone.”

“Please?” Hvitserk flicks your jaw back to look at him-- not the topless women jumping into the pool -- or Oleg shouting obscenities with Ivar shouting right back.

“Say that again.”

You reach out to grasp the strings of his hoodie, probably because you’re sinking again in the dewy grass and mud, offering a more confident please this time. It doesn’t tickle the same way. “Na, not like that.”

There’s this realization that fills your glassy eyes, maybe because he gives your throat a meaner squeeze, just like he likes it. Now Hvitserk’s not a particularly aggressive guy. He likes to deal for the fun of it-- to be that guy -- the one everyone has a need for. Shit, Oleg needs him too. He just doesn’t know it.

Something about you he can’t place. It’s the soft desperation behind those eyes. Maybe the gentleness you probably have that reminds him a little too much of someone he used to know. But he wants more of that sweet feeling in the worst of ways.

“Pl-ease,” you almost sob out. He loosens his grip a bit, that smile ripped playfully across his face. He pats your cheek with a little bit too much joy and slips away from you, taking a once over of your body, like it must meet his standards. He’s sure he has another condom somewhere.

“C’mon,” Hvitserk pats your ass. It’s gentle, this time. He’s sure you don’t know when his kindness will start or when it’ll end. But he’s not that kinda guy. You’d just have to figure it out. He offers his arm again, “Let’s go inside.”

“But--”

You pause, looking back to the brush like you expected to be another one of those women shoved up between the hot brick and itchy greenery. Hvitserk takes one look at it before decidedly propping up an eyebrow. You take his arm to avoid losing out on this opportunity and walk with him toward the hard concrete.

“You expectin’ me to fuck in a bush?”

“Oleg doesn’t let--”

“He’ll let me,” Hvitserk quips, passing by where the merry happy couple is fucking, and Hvitserk shouts something in a language you don’t recognize. It’s cute, Hvitserk decides; when your eyebrows scrunch up nice and tight. For a moment, you stop, looking back to where Oleg and Ivar were. “But why?”

“That’s easy,” Hvitserk leans in, setting a chaste kiss to your neck, perfumed with a spray you’ve gotten as a sample. Oleg flicks his head and its good enough for him to grasp your waist this time, rushing you past the first floor, bouncing with movement, toward the second and its winding stairs. “They need me.”

The door clicks in its lock. It’s a small noise, normally so harmless, but with the music thumping below, you’re reminded where you are. You’re in Oleg’s castle with a man you’ve only heard the name of. Hvitserk, the dealer.

You know very little about him, only the way he feels when he’s pressed against you when his cock is hardening up against your ass, and all you can feel is him. His cologne is rich, almost overpowering, if not more than the way he comes up behind you, his mouth dancing lines across your neck.

It’s decidedly gentle from earlier. So much so that you don’t even realize it was there, if not for Hvitserk growing in intensity, sliding his large palms under your shirt. You can feel the bruises bubbling up to the surface. “Should’a told me you bruise so easy,” he reprimands. You’re not sure what to say. “More like a princess than a druggie, huh?”

“No one calls me that.”

“Druggie?”

“Princess.”

Now that explained it. Now he knows.

@tephi101 @alicedopey (even tho i know you’re going to hate him to pieces ahahahha) @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff​ @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage​ @tgrrose​ @cookies186​ @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim​ @msmorganforever​ @beyond-the-ashes​ @queenmissfit​ @x-valhalla @hissouthernprincess @tierneygonzalez​ @alicedopey @rekdreams-fandom @athroatfullofglass @supernaturalvikingwhore​ @laughinglikenialler @ilvebeenabad @mblaqgi @neeadinghugs @gruffle1 @p8tn0lish​ @lol-haha-joke​ @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @lovelynerdytraveler @winchesterwife27 @tephi101 @therealmrshale @vikingsmania @igetcarriedawaywithyou @the-geeky-engineer @whatamood13 @strangunddurm @thethyri @peachesnpisces @ms-allenbrown @tempt-ress @isthat-tyra98 @unacceptabletatertots @deathbyarabbit

[lukneetoonz]

Little Goddess Part II

——————————————————————-

Summary: As a newer goddess you think back on how you got to where you are; in the throne room sitting next to your husband, the god of the dead.

Pairing: Hades!Aizawa x fem!reader, DadNyx!Izuku x fem!reader platonic, MomSelene!Uraraka x reader platonic.

Warnings: Shameless flirting, cussing, bakubae threatening people like usual, aizawa being hot, both aizawa and reader talking down on themselves kinda, mean ex.

Word Count: 2,545

A/N: 2nd chapter!! Hope you guys like it! If you didn’t catch on, y/n gifted aizawa the cat version of Cerberus! He didn’t have a guard before and now he does! Also I really hope the tags work this time round!

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

——————————————————————

You never thought a place so hated and talked down on could be so- beautiful…. The skyscrapers all painted with glass walls it seemed. Even if it was in constant darkness, the moon- your mother’s moon glittered across the river Styx and reflected off windows. Turning to look at your father you smiled in disbelief, how could some place that was described as eternal damnation, be so- sleek? So aesthetically pleasing to one's eyes? “Are We at the checkpoint, or-” Your father laughed at your obvious amazement

“You hurt me, did you really think that the place me and your mother work constantly at could be horrible?” Izuku chuckled at your pouty face “Well I’m sorry that Everyone always makes a big deal about how scary it is here!” You would cross your arms but you still held the cat in your arms. You both arrived in front of the tallest building and you gulped as you stood in front of it “What if the king hates me?” You hear a small chuckle beside you only to be met with golden eyes

“Lemme guess, you’re a new egg?” Nodding your head, you stared at the winged man in front of you but your father was quick to jump in front of you “Keigo! I see you’re working today… this is my daughter, Y/N.” Your father had a nice smile on his face but his eyes were staring keigo down who had a lazy smirk on his face, golden eyes trained on you “Well, aren’t you a gorgeous little thing” The gods words made your father scowl and you blush

“Keigo, she’s young.” The winged god merely snickered “Relax Izuku! I just like to ruffle your feathers sometimes!” He laughed, a smile on his face as you looked at them curiously “You must be who the mortals call Hermes?” You spoke out, the attention on you now and Keigo nodded “That’s correct chickadee, but you can call me Keigo, or Kei for short” He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, winking at you with a small smile as you blushed and nodded, your father staring in disapproval.

“As much as I’d like to catch up keigo, We have a meeting with Aizawa. Y/N is going to be doing some work for him, today is her first meeting with him.” This peaked the blonde's interest as he raised his eyebrow “Ah, well good luck chickadee. Don’t be a stranger.” He smiled with a nod before flying off, your eyes following his movements “Are all gods that nice?” Your question made your father sigh “Be careful around the men… sometimes they get- power blind.”

His tone made you confused, but it made you remember stories of Zeus, or Enji, many affairs with mortals and nymphs, Queen Rei never once able to do anything about it. Nodding, you just walked in and followed your father, taking in the smoothly functioning atmosphere.

*•*

“Why can’t you just do your job quietly and not bother me katsuki?” Aizawa leaned back in his chair from behind his desk and sighed “You’re the God of Death. Your job is to bring the souls here, so what’s the problem?” The monotone voice spoke almost annoyed as red eyes glared, the younger God moving as his grey feathers ruffled in anger. “Because that shitty mail man thinks he’s better than me since you hired him!” Katsuki’s voice strained in anger as he clenched his jaw.

A cigar appeared in the King's hand and he took a couple puffs, before his dark eyes bore into the red ones. Calm anger stirring in them that made the younger God gulp but he still didn’t stand down. “Sit down Katsuki. Since you demand that your complaints are so worth my time, let’s go through this, shall we?” Aizawa’s voice was dripping with cold emotion and Katsuki tensed before sitting down, regretting his decision of coming in

“I hired that, what did you call him? ‘Mailman’, because I saw the population go up in the mortal world. When the population goes up, that means there will be more deaths, correct?” Katsuki moved to speak but Aizawa shook his head, his eyes glowing red in a threat. “I didn’t say you could talk- to be honest, your voice annoys me. So just nod or shake your head.” Huffing, Katsuki nodded as he looked away with a frustrated blush, trying to keep the cough down from the smoke that now filled the room.

“So I do something, nice, and you barge into my office, on MY company time, YELLING at me? I think I’m a pretty reasonable man, there’s never been riots here. No complaints, it runs smoothly, I think that I’ve proven myself to be reliable. Wouldn’t you agree?” The angry king seethed with smoke blowing through his nose, Katsuki only nodded slightly but Aizawa noticed. He always noticed everything. “So if you agree, why come and waste my time when you could've even scheduled a meeting?”

The red eyed man was stuttering, only to be interrupted by some laughing from beyond the office door and in came Hitsoshi, also known as Hecate, followed by Izuku and Y/N. You (e/c) eyes met dark ones that look in desperate need of sleep and a hug, taking a deep breathe you blinked away and tried to hide the blush on your face as you ignored the butterflies in your stomach

“Shouta- I didn’t realize Baku-please just fucking go already, was here” Shinso smirked, earning a glare from Bakugou as he clenched his fist. “You asshole, the next soul I bring will be yours I swear to god-” Before anything could happen, the cat in your arms jumped down and formed into a giant version of itself and hissed at both of them, keeping them apart. Everyone’s attention now on you as you smiled sheepishly.

“Ahem… hi, I’m Y/N, and I’m the Goddess of Monster, and I came to work here with my parents!” Aizawa felt his mouth go dry as he looked at you, eyes quickly skimming your figure and he flinched when he heard a glass picture frame crack on his desk… fucking power losing control. Izuku was by your side and smiling, but also making sure Katsuki and Shinso kept their distance.

“Oh c'mon Izuku, she’s not a child! Look at her-” Shinso smirked lazily as your face grew even redder as you whispered a small thank you. Katsuki tsked and rolled his eyes at you, looking at Izuku with a scowl. “Just because you think you’re some big, don’t expect people to treat her any differently. She’s just some newbie.” Katsuki was grumbling and Izuku huffed at his attitude, but it just made the cat hiss more at Katsuki and nudge Y/N in a comforting way and you finally found your will to speak

“Oh! Y-yes thank you cutie!” You quickly whispered to the cat, before making your way to the king himself and holding out your hand with a smile, “I wanted to thank you for giving me a job, and I heard from my father that you have to stay up guarding the gates to this place yourself, so I made you a little guardian…” Aizawa was stunned and he smiled softly, making every man in the room freeze in their spot as he took your hand gently and shook it. “Thank you… He looks like a Cerberus, doesn’t he?”

You laughed at the name, and oh god your laugh made his heart flutter in a way it hasn’t- well ever before. Looking at you even his eyes smiled slightly before he noticed you two were not alone and he coughed, fixing himself, putting the emotional guard back up and on duty. “But, you really shouldn’t have Y/N…. I hired you because of your abilities and plus every god and goddess that knew you spoke highly of you, so it was a good decision on my part.”

Eyes meeting the ground, you had to bite back the smile on your face as you took in deep breathes, “Well then take Cerberus as my act as your employee. No take backs, plus he really is a sweetheart and he deserves a good owner!” How could Aizawa argue with that? Simply he nodded before looking at the other men and raised his eyebrows, “Well? Don’t you all have jobs? I don’t bite. I just plan on taking her on a door, an orientation if you will.” Nodding, the men left but you father snuck a quick hug before he went. Feeling eyes on you, you looked up and smiled, “I can’t wait to see your kingdom, aizawa…”

*•*

You walked side by side with the king himself, a crown on his head as everyone he passed seemed to hold their breath and straighten up just a little bit more. The sight alone made you giggle, because all these people looked so afraid of a man who smiled so kindly at you, it confused you. “What has you giggling little goddess?” Aizawa’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked at him and smiled, looking at his raised eyebrows.

“Well… I just- you have the kindest smile I’ve ever seen yet everyone we’ve passed has held their breath and paled like you’re horribly mean. I don’t mean that as offense, I just find that your eyes are too kind to hold any type of evil.” A blush was prominent on your (S/C) cheeks as you finished talking, Aizawa himself seemed to be in a daze. “I’m sorry- that was weird! I didn’t mean to get too personal or weird!” The floor was now deemed more interesting as you started rambling, only stopping when a large hand was placed on your shoulder.

“Thank you… no one has ever said that about me or to me, for that matter, before. It means a great deal…” How he was even forming proper words was beyond him right now because even walking next to you in silence was hard since the smell of your perfume was overwhelming and making his senses go into overdrive, not to mention he can feel your body heat and he so badly wanted to maybe, just maybe, hold your hand. What was he thinking?! He just met you! Fuck fuck fuck- Izuku would kill him- hell he would kill himself for falling for such a young...beautiful… nice… goddess.

“Aizawa-” A hand- no YOUR hand waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts and he shook his head cursing under his breath “ ‘m sorry, just got lost in thought…” The soft smile on your face brought his nerves peace. “It’s okay.. we all have those moments! Anyway, you mentioned Tartarus before? Is that one of the places I have to work?” As soon as you mentioned that place, Aizawa’s face grew hard and his eyes were darker with an emotion you couldn’t place. “Promise me you’ll never go near that place little goddess. It’s a horrible place filled with true monsters. And since you’re similar to a fertility goddess, they’ll want to tear you apart.”

Nodding quickly you felt a shiver run down your spine at the demanding tone of his voice and the powerful stance he took. “I promise…” Your voice was a meek whisper and it made Aizawa feel horrible for being so hard on you. “I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to be so harsh, I just if something happened to you, your father would never forgive me…” and I wouldn’t forgive me, he wanted to scream… but he didn’t want to seem like a creepy old man. Of course it wasn’t weird for gods and goddesses to feel powerful emotions like this but- this was wrong… right?

You merely bit your lip and nodded, before walking forward, “It’s okay ‘zawa, sometimes you can’t turn off being king huh?” Your laughter filled the air and he just followed you as you both continued the tour. Everytime you could, you would sneak a look at the raven haired man, how could someone be so- beautiful? He took your breath away, really every detail was just so pretty, even the scar on his cheek bone, all you wanted to do was touch it and ask him about it then kiss it when he told you.

Sadly, like aizawa, you couldn’t help your thoughts and insecurities get to you as you kept thinking about maybe being flirty, see where it takes you… you were too young, plus you were here for a job! Strictly business! You’d be branded if you got with the king, your parents would be shamed! And if he turned you down what would he think of your parents? Would they lose their work here? Gods you couldn’t do that to them… hell, was he even single?

*•*

“Shoutaaa” A woman's voice made you both jump just as you were coming to the end of the tour, and Aizawa automatically grimace as he saw the green haired nymph. “What do you want Emi?” It was like you weren’t even there as the woman- now known as Emi walked up to Aizawa and flung her arms around his shoulders with a devious smile, “You know what I want…listen I’m sorry for not making it the other week, I was just tired…”

Aizawa pushed her off and scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah and I’m tired of you taking me as a joke. You have a job, and you’re lucky you still have that job. Get going” His jaw clenched as you merely looked at the situation, the woman looking taken back, her eyes finally settling on your form “Is it because of her? She doesn’t even look like she could handle you.” Her bluntly lewd statement made both you and aizawa blush before he spoke up in your defense, the lightest blush on his face.

“She’s the daughter of a friend Emi. Not that it’s your concern anyway, but this has nothing to do with her.” Emi rolled her eyes before trailing her fingers down Aizawa’s jaw and clicking her tongue, “You’ll be back.” Her voice was confident and sassy as she turned around and sauntered off, leaving you with a confused face and aizawa looking like he was about to blow. Well… I guess that answers your question. Mentally you just state his relationship status as: ‘It’s complicated’...

Taglist; @present-mel @maya-ngpirit @a-match-into-themoon @nhievyenne @negansnumberonewifie @darkqueenhyde @minfani @the-british-koala @lhcartoonist @fairy-inthegarden @creolemimi @taylor----wonderland

[justcallmehitgirl]

Delicate (Tom Holland x Female Reader Smut)

Summary: You’re six months pregnant, and Tom is your best friend who wants to help raise your baby after your ex left you. Oh, and Tom happens to be in love with you.

Word Count: 5700

Warnings: LOTS OF SMUT. Language. Pregnancy!kink.

A/N: This is my first T.H. fic so I hope I did it justice. I’ll be writing more one-shots in the near future so please send me an ask or message if you want to be added to my permanent tag list.

Disclaimer: I do not know T.H. nor do I claim to know him. This is all a work of fiction and fantasy. Please do not take offense to any of the explicit content involving T.H. Please do not read further if you are bothered by this type of fanfiction.

You’re sitting on your couch idly flipping through the channels on your television when you hear the lock on the front door jiggle. You smile in relief, tossing the remote beside you, and turning your attention to the boy with wind-blown curly, brown hair pushing the door open with his shoulder. He has a bag of groceries in one arm and a bag of Chinese food in the other. You lick your lips and flex your swollen feet.

“Hi,” he huffs, shutting the door behind him with his foot and locking the door with his index finger and thumb.

“Hello,” you grin, eyes getting wide at all the food entering your apartment. 

You rub your protruding belly and lick your lips, the scent of Kung Pao Chicken and Spring Rolls wafting through the air. Tom walks over to you and bends down to place a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“How was work?” he murmurs against your hair.

You shrug. “Oh just the usual… lots of paperwork, lots of demanding lawyers… it also doesn’t help that I have to use the bathroom every two minutes either. Makes work a whole lot more tiring... always having to get up and down. Maybe I should invest in Depends…” you say, squinting your eyes in thought.

Tom scrunches his nose, walking over to the kitchen and placing the bags on the counter. “Let’s save the diapers for the baby, alright?”

You roll your eyes and try to push yourself off of the couch to go over and help him put away the groceries. You nearly topple over in the process, and Tom practically runs over to steady you.

“Hey, hey… slow it down there.”

“I know,” you grumble. “I can’t help it that I’m a planet.”

“You should’ve asked me to help you.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m six months pregnant, not an invalid,” you snap.

That was what had taken a toll on you. Not the morning sickness. Not being able to eat soft cheeses. But being coddled like a child. You had always loved your independence, craved it since you were a child and cherished it as an adult. But seemingly overnight you had to lean on everyone around you for help.

Tom looks taken aback for a moment but he keeps his hands on your arms. You look down at the ground, at the television, anywhere but his gaze, regret starting to flood your body. You slump your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I just… hormones,” you shrug apologetically.

Tom nods and places a soothing hand on your back. “It’s alright, darling. I’ll make you a plate of food and bring it over to you, okay?”

You reluctantly nod in response before taking a seat back on the couch. You watch from the corner of your eye as Tom patters about the kitchen before turning your attention back to the television in front of you. 

—

“Is it your ex?”

You look up from your plate and raise your brows. “What?”

Tom purses his lips and fiddles with the fork in his hand. “I feel like you’ve been in a mood all night. Is it him? Did he try something?”

You quickly shake your head. “No, of course not. I haven’t heard from him in months. You know he’s out of the picture.”

Tom nods. “Alright.” 

Tom never liked your ex-boyfriend. He was a musician with an ego the size of Texas. Tom knew he saw other girls behind your back, coming home late with the strong scent of perfume and alcohol lingering about him. Tom knew he was using you. You had a stable job as a paralegal in one of the largest law firms in New York. He needed you, always making you pay for rent, groceries, you name it, he always found a way for you to pay for it. 

But Tom knew you loved him and that you wanted to support his career. You knew how much music meant to him. So Tom tried to get along with him, accompanying you to his shows, going on double dates, and even engaging in small talk with him. Even though he always wanted to throttle him while they were together, Tom did it for you.

You watch Tom deep in thought, placing your empty plate on the coffee table in front of you.

“Hey space cadet,” you tease, bringing Tom’s attention back to you.

You chuckle a bit.

“Where were you just now?”

Tom merely shrugs. “Oh… just thinking.”

“Okay,” you nod. You reach for the remote when he clears his throat. You turn your attention back to him.

“I was thinking about cancelling my trip.”

Your eyes widen. “What? No, why?”

Tom places his plate on top of yours. “I just think it’s bad timing... you know with the baby and all. I just don’t want to leave you alone.”

You shake your head. “Tom, you can’t. You’ve planning this for a year.”

“Yeah, well life happens,” he reasons.

“Your brothers would be so disappointed.”

“Yeah well, they’ll get over it. They’re not having a baby in three months.”

“You act like you’re going to be gone for ages, it’s only going to be two weeks.”

“Well two weeks is a long time, a lot could happen.”

“Tom, I’ll be fine. My sister will be here while you’re away.”

“That’s super comforting,” he mutters sarcastically.

Your younger sister was a freshman at CCNY who could barely get to class on-time and clean her dorm room let alone take care of you.

“It’ll be okay. Plus, I know you’re only a phone call away.”

“Yeah, but...”

“No buts, Holland. You’re going on this trip, you’re going to have tons of fun, make lots of amazing memories…  and hey, maybe you might even meet a girl,” you wink, “and then you’re getting your ass back here to rub my aching feet.”

Tom laughs, as you stretch out your foot and wave it in front of him. He catches it in his hands and places it in his lap, playing with the soft fabric of your socks. He traces his fingers over the zigzag pattern and smiles.

He would give up a year’s worth of vacations just to be here with you and the baby.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?”

You nod exuberantly. “I’ve made it this far, what’s two weeks?”

He smiles slightly, still a bit uneasy about it all. You can sense his discomfort so you place a hand on his.

“Thank you for being such an amazing friend, Tom.”

Tom can’t help but flinch at the word, ‘friend.’ 

“I honestly wouldn’t have made it through these past few months without you,” you continue, “I truly appreciate everything that you’ve done so far. My baby’s really lucky to have such a supportive father-figure. But...”

“Here’s the ‘but’ coming,” he jokes.

“But you gotta do something for yourself, okay? It’ll drive me insane to know that you’re going to be missing out on a vacation with your family to tend to me. I would kill to take a vacation right now so promise me you’ll have fun?”

Tom bites his lip, nodding reluctantly.

“Great, now let’s watch something scary, okay? After my day at work, I’m in the mood to see someone get axed in the face.”

Tom shakes his head and puts his hands up in defeat. 

“Who am I to argue with a pregnant woman?”

—

It’s 2:30 in the morning when he hears it.

“Tom?”

He stirs on the couch.

“Tom?”

He groggily opens his eyes and leans up on his elbows. He sees you leaning against the doorframe. His eyes trail down your body and he can’t help but gulp. You’re wearing an over-sized t-shirt and he can tell you’re not wearing any pants. He calls out your name, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod. “I am b-but can you come to bed with me? I’m having trouble sleeping.”

You’re fiddling with the hem of your shirt, biting your lip and shuffling your feet.

He breathes in deeply and nods, removing the heavy blanket from his body. You take a step towards him and stretch your hand out. He takes it into his, squeezing your palm gently in reassurance. You lead him towards your bedroom. 

You walk into your room and let go of him, crawling onto the bed. He catches a glimpse of your lace underwear, and he feels his mouth go dry. He quickly looks away, trying to think about anything but your lovely ass swaying in front of him.

He walks to the other side of the bed and slides underneath the covers, silently praying he doesn’t get a boner beside you. 

It wasn’t unusual for him to sleep in the same bed as you. When your ex left you, he spent plenty of nights in bed with you, holding you and comforting you. You were devastated after he had left you. You had just told him about the baby, and he had gotten angry, accusing you of trying to trap him and ruin his career.

He had given you an ultimatum: him or the baby. You chose the baby and he was gone the next morning.

Tom naturally eased into the doting father role. He visited you often, sleeping on the couch, bringing you food, and helping you with your chores. His friends thought he was crazy for taking on the responsibility when the baby wasn’t even his. But he loved you. You were his best friend and you needed him.

But he also couldn’t deny his growing attraction to you.

He had always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you so maternal made something stir in his belly. He often found himself stealing glances at you, watching as you tucked pieces of loose hair behind your ears, bit your lip, and especially when you would walk around in just a t-shirt, the fabric stretching over your swollen stomach.

He doesn’t know when his feelings for you changed. He tries to pinpoint it in his mind. He looks back at the last twelve years that he’s known you and he thinks, ‘why haven’t I thought about you in that way before?’

You always had a special connection with him ever since you first met. Your dad was in the military and you moved around a lot, from Singapore to Guam to London. You were the quintessential ‘military brat.’ 

You were in middle school when you met Tom. You described yourself as a transient being, never truly fitting in at one place. You purposefully didn’t want to make new friends, lest you leave them for a new city and country the following year.

But Tom was friendly and outgoing, even though he was constantly teased for being a dancer. He immediately took a liking to you, telling you about his own dreams of adventure and travel. He found a kindred spirit with you. 

He invited you to sit with him and his friends during lunch, sat next to you on the bus, helped you with your homework, and showed up at your doorstep with the newest dvds his dad had purchased so you could spend the weekend binge-watching movies.

When you were in high school, your dad finally retired from the military and you moved for the final time to your dad’s hometown in New Jersey. Tom was sad, staying with you until the car came to take you and your family to the airport. But he promised he would visit you often, and he never turned back on that promise. He would visit you during school breaks and even when his career took off, he always found a way to be there for you. 

When you moved to New York a couple years ago, he rented an apartment a few blocks away from you. Albeit it was much nicer than yours, he was always very modest. He said it was convenient for his career since he had a lot of appearances in the city.

He shifts his body a bit to get comfortable, keeping a healthy distance between you two. He closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep, trying to keep any sexual thoughts of you at bay.

After a few minutes, you roll over on your side. He could sense you looking at him so he opens an eye and turns his head towards you before giving you a small smile.

“I see you staring, stop being such a creep,” he teases, trying to lighten up the mood, noticing the visible tension between you both.

“I can’t help it, my best friend is becoming such an adult.”

“Loading the dishwasher and taking out the trash hardly means I’m ready to be off my parents’ phone plan,” he laughs.

You smile and nudge his shoulder playfully. You let your hand linger for a moment, tracing his arm with delicate circles.

“Hey Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“C-can I ask you something?”

“You are asking me something,” he smirks.

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Forget it then,” you say in mock exasperation.

“C’mon, I was just kidding. What’s up,” he asks, motioning for you to continue.

“D-do you think I’m a selfish person?”

Tom rolls over so he’s also on his side facing you. He leans himself up on his elbow and knits his brows.

“What? Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”

You pause for a moment before responding. “So… I lied earlier. I am in a little bit of a mood… but you reassured me that I’m just being crazy and maybe it’s just more hormonal crap that I’m going through so I’ll just drop it,” you ramble.

He eyes you carefully and says your name in a low tone. You bite your lip. You knew you couldn’t not tell him.

“I… I saw Alexis the other day.”

Tom sighs heavily, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” you continue, “I didn’t want to upset you… but I saw her at Madewell, and well… I shouldn’t have even gone in there anyways because I don’t fit into anything they’re selling so that was a boo-boo on my end, and then I saw her at the register. I immediately tried to avoid her but then she saw me and chased me out of the store and said some pretty mean stuff and… and it just got to me.”

It’s a rush of words and you feel like you can finally exhale a bit at your admission. You knew how Tom felt about her and how upset he was at the demise of their relationship. You didn’t want to bring up old wounds but you also wanted to be open and honest with him. He had volunteered to be the father of your child afterall.

Alexis always hated your friendship with Tom. She constantly thought you were trying to steal him away from her, waiting for your moment to take him all for yourself. ‘You honestly didn’t think that big,’ you would laugh.

You tried to get along with her for Tom’s sake. You went shopping together, invited her to brunch with your friends, and even bought her nice birthday and Christmas presents. You really made a genuine effort, knowing it made Tom happy to see his girlfriend and his best friend getting along.

But you also knew there was also an unsaid tension between you that you couldn’t shake. She didn’t like that you and Tom hung out alone, that you would text each other all day, and that you would FaceTime him to vent about the attorneys at your office treating you like shit.

You couldn’t blame her though. Instead of having 100% of his attention, she had to share it with you. 

Tom reaches over and places his hand over yours. “You shouldn’t listen to what she says. You know how things ended with her… she’s just not over it and it probably makes her feel better to attack you then to face whatever issues she has.”

You remember it quite well. Tom had just told her that he wanted to help raise your baby, be your baby’s father, and she completely threw a fit. There was a lot of screaming and crying. 

‘No way, Tom,’ she screamed, throwing her hands in the air. ‘No way are you going to be in her life like that.’

Tom tried to explain to her that you needed him, and that your baby needed a father. He tried to make her understand, but she also tried to make him understand too. She didn’t want to be a mother, let alone some surrogate step-mother. She didn’t want to see him doting on another woman, caring for her and playing house with her. She didn’t want a part-time boyfriend.

And you knew she had a point. She wasn’t a villain in any of this. She loved Tom and she knew he would never love her as much as a child that he was willing to raise with another woman.

So when she yelled at you outside on the corner of 5th Avenue and West 19th Street, you didn’t really defend yourself. She was still grieving the loss of her relationship just like you had. The only difference was that you had Tom and she had no one.

“I know, but… I feel like everything she said was right. I feel like I cornered you into this, that I’m making you be a dad when it’s not your responsibility. This isn’t your baby.” 

Tom can’t stop the feeling of hurt overcome him, and you see it in his body language. You immediately feel a pang of regret.

You shake your head. “Tom, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Tom licks his lips and shakes his head. He places a hand on your belly. “This baby is mine is every way that matters, okay? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You try to turn away, but he touches your face to make you look at him. 

“I’m here because I want to be here,” he continues. “Even if you fall in love again... get married… I’ll always be this baby’s father, and I’ll always be in your lives.”

You feel your heart swell at his omission, your eyes watering. You’ve always loved Tom, but this… this made you feel like you were floating on a cloud. Even your ex didn’t make you feel this loved by a man.

Tom lifts up your shirt to reveal your stomach. He glances down and sees that he’s also revealing your underwear. He gulps and quickly brings his eyes back up to your middle.

He presses his ear against your belly and closes his eyes, listening to the baby’s movements. The sound of him breathing fills the room and you both just lay there, enjoying the sensation. After a few moments, he lifts his head up and smiles at you. You can’t help but smile back.

He lifts his hand and cups your face. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I… I love you too,” you choke out.

He begins to move away from you but you grab his hand and entwine your fingers with his. He tilts his head and watches as you move his hand back to your stomach. He instinctively rubs your belly, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

You feel a rush of emotions. You’re breathing heavily, panting almost. You don’t know what you’re doing, and it feels like your hormones are kicked up to high gear. You feel needy and wanting, loved and secure. Tom had always been there for you. 

You had noticed the way he had started looking at you. He tried to be inconspicuous, but his gaze always lingered on you. You never addressed it though, not wanting things to be weird. You had lost your boyfriend, you didn’t want to lose your best friend too.

But tonight you wanted him to be more than your best friend. You feel butterflies in your belly, and it wasn’t from the baby. 

He tilts his head. “What is it?”

You move his hand down to the waistband of your underwear and you can see his entire body tense. He stares at you, mouth open and eyes wide. You don’t have to say anything, your actions saying enough.

“A-are you sure?” he stutters.

You touch his face, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb before nodding.

“I… I don’t know about this... you’re my best friend and you’re pregnant...”

You place a finger to his lips. “Please, Tom. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I want to make you feel good as good as you make me feel.”

“But you don’t…”

“Shhh… please.”

Tom’s body slumps a bit, a sign of him finally relenting to your advances. 

You lean in slowly.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” he whispers against your lips.

You don’t respond, instead slowly pulling him down for a kiss, your lips pouty and eager. It’s gentle and tentative at first, two best friends exploring each other’s mouths for the first time. You place a hand on the back of his neck to bring him in closer to you. 

The kiss quickly turns more passionate, your mouth opening to allow his tongue to tangle with yours. You stay like that for a few minutes, just kissing and groping each other. You pull away suddenly and Tom groans at the loss of contact. You reach down and grab the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. 

You toss it to the ground beside you and you hook your fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, shucking them down your legs. You look up over at Tom who’s staring at you, admiring your naked form. 

Your breasts have gotten bigger and denser since you got pregnant. Your nipples becoming larger and more pronounced as well. You begin to blush, thinking about how monstrous you must look. You start to cover yourself with your hands but Tom practically jumps on you, placing his mouth over yours in reassurance. 

You place your hands on the waistband of his shorts and push them down his legs, your mouth not leaving his. He kicks him off and pulls away for a moment to remove his shirt. You eye his muscles, reaching out to feel them underneath your fingers. He feels firm yet soft. His chest hairless and smooth. You had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but this was different... intimate. You run your hands down his body, savoring every ripple and touching every freckle. 

Tom looks at your hungrily. He places a hand on one of your naked breasts, kneading it carefully with his fingers. His touch is gentle as he explores your body, gripping your side and playing with your breast. Your hand finds his hard, slick cock and you touch it tentatively. He pushes his hips toward you, granting you permission to continue. You hold onto his cock more firmly and give it a few stokes. He closes his eyes and moans above you.

“K-keep going,” he hisses in pleasure.

You continue to pump his cock, your hand wet with his juices. You feel yourself moisten, wanting him buried inside you. You’ve craved this for so long, not having contact with another man since your ex left you. You touched yourself at night, making yourself cum with your fingers. But you missed a man’s touch, the feeling of naked skin against skin, and having a hard cock pumping in and out of you. 

“Please, Tom… I need you,” you groan.

Tom’s heartbeat begins to race and his breathing increases as he comes to grips with what was about to happen. He was going to fulfill a fantasy that he’s had for months. He blinks repeatedly hoping this isn’t a dream. He leans down and kisses you. 

“Straddle me,” he commands against your lips. You can’t help but smirk. Once you let go of him, Tom grabs your hips and swiftly lifts you, placing you on top of him. He runs a hand down your spine and you instinctively shiver. 

“Cold?”

He rubs his hands up and down your arms. You shake your head. A piece of loose hair covers your face and Tom reaches out to tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering to comb his fingers through your mane. You lean down, balancing yourself on your arms as you kiss him. 

He keeps his hand entwined in your hair as he grabs your butt and positions your dripping pussy over his erect cock. Pulling his lips from yours, he kisses along your collarbone making you shiver and moan.

Your hand closes around his cock and you brush it across your inflamed clit making him jump a little before placing the head at your opening. He pulls back and looks up at you, placing his hands on your face.

“Are you ready?” he asks. “There’s no turning back after this.”

You understand what he means. You were about to cross a major line in your relationship. A line that you had never once crossed before. 

But you had already opened Pandora’s box, and there was no putting whatever you had released back inside. You were too far gone now, lust and longing taking over you. 

You nod eagerly, and he strokes your face.

“I love you,” he states. “I’ve always loved you.”

You want to ask him what he means but you’re mind is clouded by the thought of having his cock buried inside you. Instead you merely respond, “I love you too,” saving that conversation for later.

Tom removes his hands from your face, placing them on your hips. He breathes in and out before thrusting upward, slowly impaling you on his cock. He groans loudly, feeling how incredibly tight you are. You moan and bury your face in his chest. You keep your butt firmly against his thighs, giving yourself time to accommodate his thick member. Both of his hands patiently rest on your hips, waiting for a sign that you are ready to continue. 

He was in no hurry though, your snug warmth held him tight, the occasional flutter from your vaginal muscles rippling up his shaft. He was in heaven. 

After a few moments, you begin to move, slowly at first, your hips rocking back and forward in a rolling motion. You raise your head from his chest, rubbing your cheek against his. Your breathing is elevated but steady as your movements become more confident. 

“Oh… God… yes,” you pant.

You press down while moving your hips backward, grinding your clit into his pubic bone. You then rise up an inch or so, digging his cock into your g-spot as it withdraws. You rock forward, dropping your erect clit back into place against his pubic bone. 

“Oh God, you feel so good inside me,” you purr, your words adding strength to his hard-on. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grimaces in pleasure.

You bring your lips to his and kiss him deeply. He stabs his tongue between your parted lips, your tongues twisting and coiling in a heated battle. Tom grabs your swaying breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You break your kiss with a sudden gasp. Your hip thrusts are now reaching an urgent tempo as you feel your orgasm about to break through. Your nails sink into his arms as you throw your head back and cry out in ecstasy. Your grip on Tom’s cock subsequently tightens, making him moan. 

"OH… GOD… OH GOD… I'm cumming!” you scream.

Tom raises his hips to give you a firmer surface to grind your clit into as you ride out your orgasm. Your shrieks and moans rise and fall with the waves of pleasure washing over you. Tom holds onto your sweat-slicked breasts, attempting to continue stimulating you. 

Your movements change, driving yourself up and down on his throbbing member. This triggers a second orgasm, not as powerful as the last but equally as pleasurable. You keep bouncing, riding out the last aftershocks until you’re out of breath before collapsing against Tom, who lets go of your chest. 

You breathe in and out, trying to regulate your breathing. He runs his hand up and down your back soothingly.

“This feels so good,” you coo, snuggling into him. 

“Well I hope cumming like that felt good.”

“That wasn’t what I was talking about… it’s this,” you say, snuggling in closer. “I’ve missed this. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone... it’s just been so lonely.”

“It’s okay,” he says, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I understand.”

“Have you been with anyone since…”

You can feel Tom shaking his head. “No… I… I got too preoccupied with you and the baby that sex was the farthest thing from my radar.”

He smooths your sweaty, matted hair from your face and kisses your forehead. 

“I’m so thirsty,” you breathe, and he nods.

You sit up straight and dismount him momentarily. He sighs at the feeling of him slipping from your warmth. He sits up on his elbows as he watches you waddle out of the bedroom, your butt swaying with each movement. 

“Stay right there, lover-boy,” you call out over your shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

His body slumps back onto the mattress and he breathes out deeply, a smile creeping onto his face. He looks down and sees his cock standing straight up, dripping with your juices. He bites his lip, realizing his need for release. 

You rejoin him on the bed a moment later, a glass of water in your hand. You take a sip, some water dribbling down your chin. He thinks you look so cute. You notice him looking at you and you remove the glass from your lips, frowning slightly.

“I look like a total mess, huh?”

Tom shakes his head and laughs.

“Not at all. I think you look like a well-fucked woman actually.”

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Sure sure. Drink up, bud. It’s good for you.”

You pass him the glass and he takes it from you. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was as he gulps down the water. Once he’s done, he tries to hand the glass back to you but you just place a hand up, signaling that you’re done with it. He places it on the table beside him and lays back down, arms crossed behind his head.

You give him a peck on the lips before straddling him again, this time facing away from him.

“I want to do it like this,” you say, guiding his cock back inside you. You both groan in unison as he slides back in. “That way you don’t have to look at my fat stomach,” you add with a weak chuckle.

“Shut it,” he retorts. He sits up a bit and wraps his arms around your middle, running his hands over your swollen tummy. “You’re not fat. Don’t put yourself down like that. You’re absolutely, positively beautiful.”

“Psshhh, you have to say that.”

“I don’t have to say anything. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You shake your head, a blush creeping on your cheeks. He places a hand on your cheek and turns your face towards him.

“Really… I mean it.”

You look into his eyes, enjoying the closeness and his loving words. You open your mouth to say something but then you feel his hard, throbbing cock pressing into your g-spot. “Ohhhh,” you moan.

He lets go of your stomach and slides his hands to rest on your hips. You sit up and begin bouncing on his cock. You lift your arms, running your hands through your hair. You flip it over one shoulder, looking back at him with a sly smile. He feels like he’s going to cum at that moment. 

You clench as tight as possible when you lift off his thighs, relaxing your grip momentarily when the head of his cock is just inside you. Then you clamp down and drop your weight into his lap, sending his eyes rolling in his head.

Tom is thrusting his hips in time with your movements. He can feel the pressure building in his balls and he knows it won’t be long before he came. You seem to read his mind, altering your rhythm to push him more toward the edge. Your body begins to tense and you know you’re about to cum again. You fall forward, supporting yourself with your arms, you butt bouncing with urgent need. His hand finds your clit and your body instantly begins to seize up. 

“Oh yes, Tom… that’s it, play with my clit… I’m, I’m almost there,” you groan, bouncing onto his lap faster. “Oh… oh yes, I’m cumming again!”

Tom is in complete ecstasy watching you cum. You’re panting wildly and moaning as you drive yourself down on his stiff cock and your convulsing pussy sends Tom over the edge. 

He can feel his balls tighten and his cock swell as the familiar surge of orgasmic energy radiates throughout his body. 

"Oh baby… I'm gonna cum… I’m gonna… cum!”

“Yes, cum for me… that’s it, Tom,” you encourage.

He pumps into you frantically, thrusting into you even after his balls have emptied. You finally collapse backwards, your back pressed firmly against his heaving chest. You can feel the layer of sweat covering your bodies start to cool. 

His arms encircle you, holding you tightly against him while his cock continues to pulse inside your quaking pussy. After a minute or so, you pull your body off of him and fall to his side. You curl into a fetal position, tugging the blanket to cover your nakedness, again self-conscious at being so exposed. He wraps his arms around you and you can’t help but revel in his embrace as you two drift off to sleep.

Reality could wait until morning.

Permanent Tag List: @alwayswritingsworld / @i-love-superhero / @unicorn6664 / @tulipsforharry / @hazmyheart / @tell-that-to-my-feather / @zabdisamor / @arcticfireworks / @delicately-important-trash / @ehiparkcarmi / @satansbabe1​

[tolkien-fics]

The Sleeping Princess

Word count: 1,801

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, violence

Pairing: Ecthelion x Human! Reader

 Plot: Based on the fairy-tale Sleeping Beauty. Y/n is a mortal princess in a far land south west of Middle Earth, cursed from birth to fall into a death-like sleep. 

Year YT. Long ago, before the Fellowship was formed, there was a kingdom in the South West of Middle Earth. This kingdom was ruled fairly by the King and Queen, who made sure to provide for their people. The Kingdom was known for their riches, possessing precious gems they would trade with Dwarves and Elves. The people of the kingdom were happy, and praised their royal family. 

After a five year reign, the King and Queen wished for a child. Not out of needing an heir, but out of love. However, they never received the gift they desperately wished for. It took three years of wishing before they finally got their little joy: Princess Y/n was born.

Overjoyed, the King and Queen instantly set out of inviting the entire kingdom to the celebration feast.

"Over here!" One servant called to the other as they decorated the Hall with cloths of all color, the cooks displayed their feast on a long table, the minstrels practicing their music. The joy of the castle could be felt from miles away. But there was an evil mage who lived in the forest just out of kingdom grounds, watching the events unfolding from her reflective pond. Laced with magic so she could spy on the kingdom's people.

"So, they think they can get away with not inviting me to the little brat's party? They won't get away with this!" She growled, cooking up a plan in her mind. Everyone had gathered in the palace to welcome the newborn into the world. The people were laughing, drinking and eating. All paused when the King stood to make a speech.

"Dear friends, we thank you for attending the celebration this day. We have wished for a child for so long, and now she is finally here. We cannot be more grateful than we already are. Now without further-ado-" There was a slam as the hall doors burst open, the guards scrambling to unsheathe their swords at the surprise visitor.

"I suppose I am not considered one of your friends, your majesty?" The mage spat bitterly, brows furrowed and hands placed on her hips. She was a simple mage, dressed in rags. Those who never heard of her would have mistaken her for being homeless, but to the kingdom folk she was a powerful witch, one not to be crossed.

"Oh Lithia! You're-!" The Queen was shocked, eyes wide and a hand placed on her chest.

"Alive? Of course I am! Though you would know that if you bothered to check in." The mage replied, hand waving dismissively in the air.

"We apologize, Lithia." The King started. "You haven't appeared for years! We merely thought you had left, or died! We did not mean to cause offense."

Lithia scoffed. "Enough! Let's see the new princess." The mage quickly moved to the basin in which you laid, wrapped in delicate silk. Lithia quickly picked you up, keeping you at arms length. 

"That's it! Put her down this instant!" The King commanded. "Guards!"

"Am I not allowed to give the princess my blessing?" Lithia questioned, not waiting for your parents response before beginning:

"Dear little princess, this is my blessing to you. Upon coming of age you will fall into a deep sleep, one that you will not wake from. Not even the powerful magic in the world will save you!"

Lithia cackled, roughly thrusting you into your mother's arms. She left the hall, the door slamming shut behind her. Everyone began to whisper among themselves, your mother began to cry sorrowfully. "Our daughter, our poor daughter." She sobbed while holding you close.

"Perhaps I can help." A voice spoke from the far side of the table. Instantly, the King and Queen looked up, hope in their eyes.

The voice belonged to a young elf maiden, one of the few that resided in the kingdom. She too knew magic, pure magic of good. 

"Oh, can you please help our daughter?" The queen asked, teary eyed as she clung to you.

"I cannot reverse the magic, your majesty." The elleth spoke. "But I can change the outcome. The princess will indeed fall into a deep sleep, but she will wake up. The mage forget the mention the greatest magic known. Love. The princess' one love will break the curse."

"Oh thank you!" The Queen expressed her gratitude. "You have given her the gift of life, another chance! I can only hope that it will be enough."

It had been twenty years since that day. You grew to be a fair princess, admired by all. Your beauty was breath-taking, and your heart was good to match.

"What a beautiful day it is." You mused as you strolled through the royal gardens, kneeling down to admire the small daises, picking some to make a flower crown. Your gentle hands weaved the stems together, humming a soft tune as you did.

You were soon distracted by a vibrant butterfly, fluttering past you and ahead.

"Such beauty." You admired, standing to follow the creature and abandoning the flower crown. You wished the catch another glimpse of the butterfly, jogging through the garden to catch up.

"Strange. I have not seen this part of the garden before." You thought aloud, seeing a whole flower bed of red roses. They were vibrant and alive with color, compared to some of the dying flowers you had seen.

"They smell good, too!" The lovely scent wafted to your nose from the light breeze that blew past. You reached a hand to pick one, a thorn breaking the skin of your finger and drawing blood. The red liquid dripped down your finger, droplets staining the luscious grass.

Looking at the blood, you began to feel faint. Your surroundings started to spin, making you feel unbalanced.

"I don't feel good." Was the last thing you spoke before your body hit the ground. The King and Queen were heartbroken as your body was delivered to your chambers and placed on your bed.

"How could we have overlooked the roses?" The Queen sobbed, covering her face with her hands. The King stiffled his own tears, "All we can do now is wait, my queen. Wait for her one true love, as the elleth predicted."

As their cries sounded, the kingdom was slowly pausing, the residents turning into stone for as long as it would take for their princess to awake.

Days turned into months, and months to years. The story of princess Y/n had spread far and wide, elves and men attempted to rescue you but none succeeded. Until one day, a handsome elf lord had arrived from Gondolin. Ecthelion of the fountain had heard of your story from his kin, and even though nobody had rescued you, he hoped he would be the one.

"What makes you think you will succeed?" He was told, but he shook their words off. He just knew.

He rode for exactly thirty days before reaching the kingdom. From the outside, it had lost it's charm it once had: the trees rotting, a musty, damp stench overtook the once glorious smells of baking, flowers and perfumes. As Ecthelion rode through the streets, he noticed that all life stopped. Everyone had become statues, paused at the moment they were working, buying, and chatting. Ecthelion shrugged his shoulders, trying to escape the terrible feeling that overcome him. It was a sort of uneasiness, he guessed. Despite this, he looked towards his elvish sword, knowing he was capable of protecting himself if necessary.

The elf lord gazed upon the castle as he arrived at the half open gates. He got off his steed, stroking the soft mane before arming himself with his sword, walking through the grounds. The corners were littered with cobwebs, the guards looking more like ornamental statues than the people they were. Ecthelion felt sadness at his surroundings: He had heard stories that the kingdom was once vibrant and joyous, a truly happy place to live. But now it had lost it's spark.

"Get him!" A terrible cry reached his ears. Instantly, the elf drew his sword, deflecting the attacks that came from a small group of orcs. Now, he didn't hear about this. They must have inhabited the place during it's time of silence. Ecthelion hit, stabbed, kicked and beheaded the orcs coming at him. His skin was damp with sweat, blood dripping from his nose after receiving a punch. He beheaded the last orc with a fierce yell, panting for breath.

Now on his guard, he made his way down corridors, hallways and up a flight of spiral stairs. When he reached the top, there was a single door at the end of the short corridor. He couldn't hear anything, no orc growls or sounds of footsteps. 

Ecthelion opened the door warily and entered, his breath taken away at the sight. He was in your chambers, and saw your figure laying on the bed, hands clasped together. You looked dead, but he saw you still had color in your cheeks. Though it was faint, he knew you was still alive somehow.

"You are beautiful." He whispered as he came to your bedside, his hand covering yours. He rubbed his thumb along your hand, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"I pray to Eru that you will wake up, and greet me with your glorious presence." Ecthelion bent down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, loving kiss. His eyes re-opened to see yours twitch, then open slowly.

"Oh dear. I must have fallen asleep." You spoke in a hoarse voice. "Please don't think of me as rude, sir. Who are you?"

Ecthelion smiled, helping you to sit up. "I have come to release you of your curse, princess. I heard of your story and knew in my heart I had to come. My name is Ecthelion, Lord of the Fountain."

The King smiled, as he too had awoken. Along with the rest of the kingdom. 

"You have saved us, Lord Ecthelion! However can we thank you?"

The elf lord smiled, eyes on you once more. "I wish to ask for your blessing to court your daughter, and one day make her my wife. For her beauty shines brighter than the stars." 

You was taken aback, a blush dusting your cheeks. You smiled gently, covering his hands with your own. "Oh Lord Ecthelion, my beauty could never compare to your own."

The King chuckled, "You may, indeed! You have deemed yourself brave and worthy enough to court my daughter. For saving us, we will forever be thankful." Ecthelion gazed into your eyes once more, full of love and kindness. He bent down to kiss you once more, making a promise to himself that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

[nexttrickanvils]

MI Fic: Beware of Karen

Title: Beware of Karen

Ships: Guybrush/Elaine, past Stan/OC (if you could call that mess a relationship)

Notes: So this is the result of lots of jokes and headcanon swapping with @captmickey. Hope you enjoy. ;)

---------

Throughout his adventures, Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate(TM) had seen the strange and impossible…

...And yet none of it compared to the sight of perpetual grifter, Stan S. Stanman standing on a dock before the Screaming Narwhal with a sleeping roll and other items in his (still flailing, how does he do that) arms.

“Guybrush! Good to see you! How’s the wife?”

“...She’s fine?” Guybrush remarked glancing at an equally baffled Elaine to his right.

“What...exactly are you doing here?”

“Haha! A good question! Typical of a smart man such as yourself! See, I need a favor and I figured we’ve been such good friends for so long...”

“You sold me a cruddy ship, I locked you in a coffin, scammed your life insurance business, you tried to sell me a timeshare, and tried to prosecute me on false charges. I don’t think “friends” is the word I’d use.”

At that, Stan’s usual bluster and “charming” salesman smile deflated like a really sad balloon.

“Alright alright. I know we haven’t exactly been on the same page but you’re the only one I actually trust with this.”

Okay that got Guybrush’s attention.

“This being?”

“I need a place to stay. Maybe a few days maybe a week. It shouldn’t be too long… hopefully”

Guybrush and Elaine glanced at each other, warriness and a little bit of annoyance obvious on both their faces.

They were planning on sailing off tomorrow and continuing their Multi-Island Anniversary Vacation. Elaine especially was looking forward to this after all the craziness with the Pox Incident… and the LeWalrus Incident before that. Winslow was even nice enough to be willing to stay at Spinner Cay with Anemone and the rest of the Merfolk so the two could have their space.

Then came Stan like a bad penny.

“Stan… we’re-” Guybrush attempted to explain

“We’re in the middle of something. As a couple. As in something for just the two of us.” Elaine added

“Don’t worry! Ol’ Stan here will be quiet as a mouse!”

Guybrush pinched his nose in frustration at Stan’s refusal to take no for an answer.

“Stan… why do you want to stay with us anyway? What? You couldn’t scam yourself a hotel room?”

“I take personal offense to that, my friends!”

“We’re not friends.” Elaine interrupted

But Stan ignored that and continued, “See I’ve been a businessman for a long time and in that field of work, I’ve met many a character, believe you me! I’ve crossed paths with the prickliest pirates, the saltiest of sea dogs, the most brackish of buccaneers...”

Guybrush muttered to Elaine, “What’s “brackish” mean?”

“I think it just means unpleasant, dear.” Elaine responded

“But none of them! None of those pillaging plunderers hold a candle to the most frightening person in the Caribbean… KAREN!”

Was… was he joking?

Is this one of those weird Pirate Prank Plays?

Was there a hidden audience ready to burst out and laugh at him?

“Unless Karen is LeChuck’s first name… which would be hilarious I can’t lie, I don’t think I see the threat.” Guybrush replied

“Who is Karen anyway?”

“Oh… she uh… she’s… err… she’s my ex-wife.”

An awkward silence hung between the three…

“Alright Guybrush, pull up the anchor.”

“WAIT! Listen I understand that I may have a… unique relationship with the truth but please believe me when I say that Karen is the absolute worst person imaginable and if she finds out that I’m on this island, I am a dead man!”

Okay… wow… even after racking his brain, Guybrush couldn’t really remember seeing Stan so… terrified (well okay the coffin thing but that’s uh something else.) He looked over to Elaine and could tell that she was still less than sympathetic.

Not that he could blame her. A guy, known for exaggeration and bullshit, shows up to your ship and tells you how his ex-wife is somehow WORSE than LeChuck? Not a good look.

But obviously Stan was not gonna go away, Guybrush had to think of something.

“Okay, listen, Stan. Elaine and I are trying to have a nice private vacation as a couple. But since you seem so worried, why don’t I just go talk to Karen?”

“ARE YOU CRAZY!? Stronger men than you have buckled before her! No, it’s better for all involved to just get out of dodge!”

Guybrush just gave a cocky grin in response, “Stronger men, but not wittier. Believe me after dealing with you for years, I think I can handle this.”

Stan merely sighed and muttered, “Sounds like I need to go back to the coffin business because it's your funeral.”

Guybrush turned to Elaine and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Don’t worry Plunderbunny, I’ll get this done quickly and we can get right back to our vacation.”

“Oh alright but you owe me a shoulder massage after all this.”

The Mighty Pirate(TM) shot a wink and began to disembark The Screaming Narwhal.

---------

Before long the two were making their way through a marketplace full of merchants, scam artists, and those in between.

“So… how did you and Karen meet?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Yikes, Stan doesn’t want to talk about something? Maybe… this wasn’t a good idea…

...WELL IN FOR A PIECE OF EIGHT!

“Why’d you divorce? Or is that too personal?”

“We began to see each other as competition. And Karen is quite ruthless to anyone she sees as competition.”

Before Guybrush could ask further, a pained high scream rang through the market. A female pirate ran past him and Stan screaming about her eyes as she covered them.

“You’ll thank me when you have to beat the men away with a club!” shouted another woman

“...It’s her.”

Guybrush turned to where Stan was glaring and immediately spotted a woman in a jacket and plaid pencil skirt. Her hair was closely cropped with some parts flared up or sticking out. In her hand was one of those fancy looking glass perfume bottles. Her face was covered in way-too much make-up for one person and she had a pure white salesman smile similar to Stan.

“Karen...”

The woman turned to them and immediately her smile dropped.

“...Stan.”

Hoo boy, Guybrush was wearing a coat and he could feel the chill between these two. Better step in before things get more awkward.

“Um excuse me?”

“Hm?”

Guybrush straightened himself and adjusted his coat.

“I’m Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™.”

“Uh-huh, that’s nice.” Karen remarked with little enthusiasm

She then turned to Stan and shot him a smug look, “You know Stan, I always said you couldn’t find better than me but wow you really dug rock bottom.”

Stan just continued to glare at her while it took a second for Guybrush to realize what she was saying.

“Oh, oh no! Stan and I are just… acquaintances… who keep running into each other. I’m happily spoken for to the most beautiful ex-government official in the Caribbean.” Guybrush explained, showing off the ring on his finger

Guybrush wasn’t sure what happened next; one moment there seemed to be a glint in Karen’s eyes and then he found himself pulled away from Stan with one of her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Oh you’re married huh? Can’t imagine the Missus being too thrilled to see you spending time with someone like Stan.”

“Uh...I mean… you’re not wrong”

“You look like the kind of guy who’s just one mistake away from the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“I… um… actually Elaine and I-”

“A lady likes to be treated… um… Gasbroom was it?”

“Guybrush… but I’m not here to bu-”

“Of course, of course. And you say she’s ex-government? Well clearly you somehow found a woman of class who deserves only the classiest -and most expensive- items in my collection!~”

Thankfully before Karen could continue with her sales pitch, Guybrush felt Stan pulling him back and he suddenly felt more clear headed. It was almost like a spell had been broken. Or maybe he was now further from the perfume fumes and wasn’t feeling as dizzy.

Karen glared at Stan and crossed her arms.

“Hmph, I see you haven’t changed a bit, Stan. You just can’t stand the mere IDEA of someone buying something from someone other than you.”

“This isn’t about sales and you know it, Karen.”

Guybrush pushed himself away from Stan and faced Karen.

“Listen, I just wanted to talk to you and clear up all… whatever this is!” Guybrush exclaimed, pointing his finger between the two

At that, Karen began to laugh.

“Oh, sweetie, there is no fixing that mess. And that mess could also be in your future if you don’t...”

“I’m not buying anything!” Guybrush snapped

“Oh… no wonder your marriage is on the rocks.”

“HEY! My marriage has survived curses, evil undead voodoo jerks, and my mother-in-law! I think it can survive not buying your stuff”

“See this is what she does! She lies and insults you every way to get you to buy from her!”

Guybrush couldn’t help but side-eye Stan as he remarked, “Isn’t that what you do?”

“Oh no no no. What I do is a little something called Cold Reading. A skill of the trade. All she does is push you down and down until you can’t take it anymore!”

“...Again, sounds like what you do.”

“I agree with Stan, how dare you compare my mercantile skills to this idiot who couldn’t sell a used ship to a pair of monkeys!”

“AT LEAST I DON’T TEST MY WARES ON THE MONKEYS!”

“Still spreading those lies and slander are we? I think we’re done here, Stan. Leave now and if I see your face around here or worse yet, try to set up shop near me. I will have the Island authorities on you like flies on a zombie.”

“BUT! You’re at a marketplace! You can’t have someone arrested for running a business near you!” Shouted Guybrush

Karen smirked, “True but I can if this is what I tell them...”

Instantly Karen pulled out a handkerchief and started crying (without any actual tears, can’t smudge the make-up after all.)

“I-It’s my ex-husband, sir! He-he won’t leave me alone! I just want to run my business in peace but he just keeps harassing me!”

In an instant, the “oh woe is me” act is dropped and that smirk came back.

“Have I made myself clear? Now go on, shoo! You’re scaring off customers.”

Realizing that there was no winning here, Guybrush and Stan began to turn around and walk away. But not before…

“Hey! Goibersh!”

“...It’s Guybru-”

Quickly Guybrush caught a tube of lipstick that Karen tossed at him before it could hit him in the face.

“Consider this a free sample. And when your dear lady inevitably demands more, you’re free to come crawling back to me without Stan.”

With that, Karen went straight back to harassing another “customer” passing by.

“Stan...”

“Yes Guybrush?”

“You can stay on the ship. THIS DOES NOT MAKE US FRIENDS! But I’d feel like a jerk if I just left you to her “mercy.””

“...Thanks. Maybe if we survive this, I’ll give you a ten percent discount on my next business venture.”

“ONLY TEN PERCENT!?”

[sailorbellewrites]

Fools Rush In... VII

characters — yoongi x reader (ft. members of bts and other original characters)

summary — min yoongi, music executive and perpetual bachelor, marries a las vegas stripper he’s only known for six months. chaos ensues.

inspiration —  fools rush in (1997 rom-com starring salma hayek and matthew perry)

information — a drabble series loosely based on the 1997 movie fools rush in. drabbles not posted in any linear order and written as a creative writing outlet. 

warnings — mentions of sex work; age-difference; light sugar daddy themes; smut; light angst (specifically in parts V & VI).

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI

VII — suga (ft. jimin)

Yoongi fucked up.

Or at least that’s what he thinks when Jimin hands him two large stacks of 20 dollar bills. He’s sure it’s no less than $5,000 USD, but he won’t count it. It’s not the first time he’s seen that amount of cash up close, but it looks strange coming from his friend’s hands. “Can you please, please try to have a good time for once?” The younger male begs him, blond fringe damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. “Who comes to a strip club angry?”

“Someone who is forced to come to a strip club.”

“No one forced you to come here,” Jimin laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets. Yoongi hates how comfortable he looks in this environment. The man always looked like he belonged, regardless of where he was. He was like a chameleon, able to shift and fit in anywhere. Yoongi envied him—having that kind of ability was critical in his industry. Why a pretty boy like Jimin had it was anyone’s guess. “You know this is better than sitting in your hotel room.”

“My hotel room doesn’t smell like overpriced beer and cheap perfume.”

“Lighten up! You were fine with the smell when it was on your ex—”

“I will bury your body in the desert.”

“I left a note in my apartment saying that if I came up missing, it was you.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, shifting his sights to two girls spinning around each other on the same pole. They looked almost angelic, the white of their outfits contrasting nicely against the dark walls of the club. He had half a mind to record the act and send it to one of his artists as inspiration for a music video, but decided against it. He didn’t want to capture them without their permission and he certainly didn’t want to talk to them to ask for it. Jimin heeds his gaze. “You think they’re cute? Want me to get you a lap dance?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Aww, come on! They’re fun. When was the last time you had even one beautiful girl rubbing up on you? Knowing how much of a bore you are, it’s had to have been years. And we’ve all seen your ex, so we know she doesn’t count.” 

Yoongi rolls his eyes at Jimin’s exaggeration. They both knew that Yoongi was in a position to have sex whenever and where ever he wanted. But he had been bored by his options lately; work always seemed more fun, more fulfilling, more worthwhile than the quickies he could have in his office. It had been a few months since he invited anyone over. Jimin didn’t understand, of course; he was made for the bachelor lifestyle.

“Let me get you at least one.”

“No.”

“Why? You don’t trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m getting one you one anyways,” he declares, promptly running off before Yoongi can stop him. He leans back on the couch that he has taken residency on, hands curling around the cash in his lap as he shuts his eyes. He hates Las Vegas; he hates all the lights and all the people running around flaunting their lack of shame; he hates how everything looks so alive when it’s all so clearly dead. He wants to be home, in Seoul, in his bed. He wants to be a bad friend and not travel with Jimin whenever the man demands. He wants to sleep.

He isn’t sure how long he sits there by himself—it could have been two minutes, but it just as easily could have been twenty. Time, Yoongi thinks, does not work the same in Vegas. Eventually, though, he hears a loud, cackling laugh paired with the familiar tinkling of Jimin’s giggles. “This is who you want me to dance for?” A voice says, clearly amused.

“You should see him at parties,” Jimin replies. Yoongi takes this moment to crack his eyes open. A grimace settles onto his face as the first thing his eyes land on are a series of thin black leather straps criss-crossing around pushed up cleavage. His eyes follow the road of straps running up a smooth chest and neck before they land on a face—a gorgeous face—holding an amused grin. Jimin snickers as he says, “Yoongi, I made a friend. She will dance for you.”

Yoongi’s eyes snap to Jimin now as he says, “No.”

“Oh come on—”

“Don’t be nervous,” you speak up suddenly, the grin on your face turning into a more genuine smile as you take a small step forward, reaching out a hand towards him. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow up at the move, making you laugh. “Oh come on, I don’t bite. It’s fun.”

“And I already paid her,” Jimin speaks up. “So you have to do it or you owe me a lot of money.”

“She can dance for you then,” Yoongi responds, though his eyes stay on you and your expectant gaze.

“I already have a dancer waiting for me.”

“How much money would I owe you, then?”

“A lot,” he stresses, in a way that has you rapidly nodding in agreement. “So get your ass off this couch and go.” Yoongi lets out an annoyed huff, mentally weighing out how much money he would be willing to drop in order to avoid getting a lapdance, before deciding that the idea in itself was idiotic. Slowly, he makes his way to his feet, shoving the money in his pocket before gesturing for you to lead the way. Jimin lets out a self congratulatory cheer as you begin to lead Yoongi away from the public couches and towards the ornate gold and black doors labeled Champagne Room. 

“I don’t want you to dance for me,” he says as soon as you shut the door of the room. He refuses to even sit down on the leather couches, eyes routinely focused on your form as you turn to face him fully. He takes in your entire outfit now, noting how the tiny shorts have three extra straps resting on and above your hips and how tall you look in platform stiletto boots. A classic red lip and curled hair made you look especially sinful to him; Jimin clearly knew what he was doing by asking you for the private dance. 

“You know it costs at least two grand to reserve this room. I have to—”

“Waste his money.”

Your brows pinch together in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t want to come here anyways. No offense to what you do, but strip clubs aren’t my thing.”

“None taken,” you say with a shrug.

“So don’t dance. Don’t give me what he paid for. Just… sit here.”

“Sit here for an hour?” You question cheekily.

“He reserved you for an hour?” Yoongi asks incredulously, shocked by his friend’s willingness to drop that amount of cash at a strip club. Jimin wasn’t hurting for money, but he wasn’t a frivolous spender either. Unlike some of their friends who dropped cash for sport, Jimin always seemed a bit more careful about what he chose to swipe his card on. Yoongi saw no less than $10,000 USD leave his friend’s hands. 

“Technically, dances only last thirty minutes, but he paid more because he liked my name.” At your words, Yoongi lifts his eyebrow. You stick out your hand for him to shake, stating, “I forgot to introduce myself. Hi, I’m Suga Baby.” Yoongi can’t help it. He laughs. It’s a deep, hearty laugh that shows all his teeth and gums. Jimin must have thought he hit the jackpot. “Hey, what’s so funny?” You question, trying to sound offended although your own giggles at his laughter betrays you.

“Your name… it’s just… similar to mine,” Yoongi laughs out, noting how you seem to smile wider at his words.

“Your name is Baby?”

“Suga,” he answers, coming down from his high. “Or that’s what people call me at work.”

“Tell me why.” You request, your head cocked to the side in curiosity, eyes open wide in a way Yoongi isn’t prepared for. You look interested, and not in the way that women in Yoongi’s circle tend to look “interested” when asking him about work—no, not like that. You look at him as though you actually care about the story he has to tell.

So he tells you. He tells you about his name and his company and his friendship with Jimin. He tells you why he’s in Vegas and why he was in New York City before that and New Orleans before that. He finds himself sitting next to you on a plush velvet couch as he asks why they call you Suga Baby and if you like stripping and who your worst client was. You press your hand against his shoulder as you tell him how your family reacted to your job and your favorite coworkers and your upcoming vacation to Los Angeles. And before he knows it, his hour with you is almost up and all you two have done is talked.

So he tells you, then, that he doesn’t want to stop talking to you. That he wishes he could spend more time with you than this because it is the most relaxed he has been since coming to the city. 

And he doesn’t expect much to come from it; doesn’t even know why he’s sharing these words with you, but it feels right. And it feels right when you tell him to wait for you at his car because you want to keep talking to him too. And it feels right when he stumbles out of the Champagne Room and tells Jimin to find his own way to the hotel. And it feels right when you run outside 15 minutes later, sweatpants low on your hips and a too tight sports bra digging into your shoulders because it was the only clean thing you had. And it feels right when you slip into the passenger seat with a smile that he can’t place quite yet, waving off his concerns of getting you in trouble with a simple request to, “just drive.”

So he does and it feels right.