#(I didn’t like beer then and I don’t like it now)

[ghostwhippet]

From Scratch

Nutrition Info: Johnny/Reader; 4k; a meetcute launched by Reader's inability to cook reasonable portions, and Johnny's... well, just Johnny

No matter how long you live alone, you can’t get the hang of cooking for one person. Even when you try to make a single-serving meal instead of batch cooking, somehow it balloons out of control. Wasting food makes you feel awful, but you can only freeze so much.

One evening, desperate and utterly fed up, you go kick gently at a neighbor’s door, both hands full, trying to mimic a knock with your shoe. Jason, you think his name was? Striking blue eyes, big frame, a cute cropped mohawk, amazing brogue, and he’s always been cordial when you’ve run into him around the building. Friendly, but not too friendly.

He’s understandably confused by your request at first, but seems happy enough for the food, and takes it around your repeated apologies–for bothering him, for existing, for anything you can find, really.

Unfortunately, not even forcing yourself to go and do all of that manages to pierce your shite sense of volume. Your trips to his door do get less awkward over time, though. And Johnny, his name is, always has sparklingly clean dishes and containers to return in exchange for the full ones. 

Eventually he just starts showing up at your place instead and eats with you at your bar counter. He didn’t really ask, and you definitely didn’t, but there he is all the same, and… if you're honest? He’s just so easy to be around, it quickly feels natural having him there. He puts you off your guard, puts you at ease and makes you smile, like those are somehow the most natural things in the world.

From that first night, Johnny has insisted on helping with dishes. Starting the second, he’s always got groceries with him. Even manages to talk you out of your discomfort over accepting them, so well that on his fourth night, you’ve got a small shopping list ready. He’s cheeky, you don’t think he’ll mind. And he is right, after all: you're probably feeding him at least three or four nights out of the week, what with all the leftovers.

You start eating better, and trying new things you'd always planned on “getting around to,” now that you've got a reason to cook beyond not starving. Everything comes out fine the first time you make it, when you’re closely following a recipe, and Johnny has no qualms about trying anything you put in front of him. You’ve never met someone so genuinely un-fussy when it comes to food.

A couple months after he’s started eating at your place, he disappears for a while. “Work trip,” is all he'll say, and you don’t pry, even though you really want to. 

Once he’s back, he starts coming over weekend afternoons sometimes. You do brunch with beer or fancy drinks in champagne flutes, or occasional breakfast on the roof before other people are awake, him in a big hoodie or jumper, and you wearing a thick blanket like it's trying to digest you, looking like a half-drowned cat because no living being is meant to be awake at such an hour. 

You cut fruit into mangled flowers and vague geometric shapes for the brunches, usually while just spending time with him. He tries his hand at it once, with you pulling up videos, laughing the whole time you’re explaining how it’s supposed to work, and the utter bastard is better at it on his first go than you were after weeks. His hands are confoundingly steady, and his hand-eye coordination borders on the unnatural.

That’s probably the official start of his sous chef arc. And that’s what has him spending a night judging your knives and marveling, repeatedly and loudly, that you still have all your fingers.

You might put a piece of eggshell into his omelet that night in retaliation, and he might not even have the decency to react to it.

“...Johnny I can hear it crunching, oh my God would you spit it out!” You manage between laughter that’s got your face hurting.

That happens a lot around him. Smiling so much it hurts.

“Nah, i’s nice texture,” he says around the mouthful, then starts enunciating the longer words. “Very advanced technique. Shows a great awareness of the culinary experience–”

“You’re being such a prat. Why are you being such a prat!”

He talks over you as if he can’t hear you, as if he’s doing some mockingly posh review. “And honestly, the crunching–” he pauses and chomps down on the shell for effect, and how is it still intact, “it really engages the senses. Keeps me immersed in my dining experience.”

You regret loaning him your cooking books. Never again.

After that, though, he steals your knives, takes them home, and they come back so sharp you can cut windowpane slices of potato. He offers to teach you how to do it yourself–after stipulating with heart-clenching thoroughness that he’s happy to come over and do it for you any time.

Johnny gets weirdly into shopping farmer’s markets, walking around discovering new produce and varieties of things he’s never seen before. “Fuck would I know tomatoes come in this color? Look at this thing, it’s like a feckin’... it’s a wee lumpy sunset, isn’t it? And this! Like someone took the heart of a dragon,” his voice had gone terribly dramatic, and you definitely hadn’t covered your face, “and stuck it on a bush somewhere.”

“Baby how are you so huge, but so adorable?” You don't know when the pet names started, but you know he started them; sometimes it feels like you two grew up together. 

You like the challenge of the new and unexpected ingredients that come from his trips, and by this point, he’s keeping your kitchen pretty stocked with whatever oddball pantry items you ask for, so you're set up to deal with almost anything. But on rare occasions he’ll call you with a question, too. You’ve had each other’s numbers for a while, it just made coordinating easier. 

“Oi can you make sommat with uh… fiddlehead ferns?”

You always can, whatever he asks about. It just takes a quick internet search to find out if you can tackle it that same night, or if it needs to wait for another day. Sometimes it ends up disastrous, but like a shot, Johnny has you laughing or throwing something at him (usually-but-not-always also while laughing) before guilt or shame can get a proper foothold.

There was a night when he was too excited about something to wait for you to answer the door when he knocked, and since then, he just sort of comes in on his own after he announces himself—at least when you know to expect him. That feels right, too, just like having him at your counter had.

You’re feeding the both of you almost every night of the week by now, even if you’re still not cooking often. You like being around him so much, you can’t imagine doing it less, not even when cooking is the last thing you want to be doing. It’s like there’s a bubbly little sun in your chest when he’s around.

Johnny makes you so happy, in fact, and you’re so afraid of losing your time with him, it’s nearly six months before the first time you have to tap out of a dinner, too knackered to make yourself even casually presentable, nevermind cook so much as instant noodles.

He reacts like it’s no problem at all, which of course he’d do, because he’s wonderful, but you don’t manage to keep your heart from dropping that he’s not at least a little sad. That he doesn’t, maybe, look forward to the nights like you do. You know your arrangement is practical, and he’s never been over unless there was food involved, but… well… seeing him seems to have become rather… vital to you.

Which means it’s better to put it away, anyhow, right?

So when, an hour after you’d texted him and basically all he’d said was No problem, thinking takeout, any votes?, he’s coming through your front door with delivery bags and talking a mile a minute like it’s just another night, you're left with your mouth open and your hand on the knob, because… because he's here.

You're not cooking, but he's still here.

You just stand there gobsmacked as he sits on the couch, nattering away, half the food out before he even realizes you’re still playing doorstop. He asks if you’re having the time of your life or if you’re going to come sit down, those horrible (wonderful) crinkles at the sides of his eyes, brows pulled up in the middle.

He looks confused when you say you want to freshen up, like he can’t see that your hair might’ve lost a row with a feral rodent, or that you’re wearing clothes that shouldn’t even be outside of a bin, nevermind on a person. He just tells you the food will get cold, and that it’ll be no good that way.

So you run your hands through your hair and sit, subdued and uncertain like you haven’t been around him in ages, as he amiably fills the silence. You know he can tell you’re not right, but he’s just… acting like it’s ok that you aren’t.

Midway through the meal, he reaches forward to grab a container and put it in front of you, and it makes his knee come up against yours. 

It doesn’t move away when he sits back.

Then, as the night wears on and the very most jagged edges of your weariness have eased, he makes a joke and you bump your shoulder into him in retaliation. It pushes your legs flush… and neither of you do anything to separate them. He just keeps on being Johnny like nothing is different, like nothing strange is happening, like he can’t see how bloody flushed you must be, like the room hasn't turned to glass and burst, leaving the both of you toppling through the air.

You're not stupid, so you have to tell yourself repeatedly that he’s just trying to comfort you. He’s acting completely normal otherwise—for Johnny—and you look like a person in need of a friend tonight. And same as him, you’re at all your meal nights instead of off with friends or dates. At least for him, it’s because of his career. You haven’t even seen him bringing up a new fling in ages.

…You’re not stupid. Right?

After the food is finished, Johnny putters about cleaning up, working his way around your kitchen like he knows it exactly as well as he does. He puts all but one container of leftovers in your fridge. 

You hug your knees comfortably, just sort of watching him, too full of static to be paranoid about it, and he either doesn’t realize or isn’t bothered by it. Not being a complete creep, you don’t keep it up for too long, anyhow. You’ve got plenty to occupy your thoughts.

He surprises you on his way out by casually setting a mug in front of you. He’d made you something hot to drink while he was cleaning up, and you were so spaced you hadn’t realized. He just gives you a little smile, a gentle squeeze on the shoulder with a stroke of his thumb, says, “Wednesday, yeah?” (the night of your next normal get-together), and moves on toward the door. All normal. But there’s some metal in your chest painfully bending itself into unaccustomed shapes, jabbing places that aren’t used to the pressure, pushing into your windpipe until it’s hard to breathe, and you can’t stop yourself from telling him that you made up a new seasoning blend for popcorn, if he’d maybe like to watch a movie before he goes.

He stands there by the door looking at you just for a split second too long, opens his mouth, closes it, then settles right back onto the couch up next to you. He reaches out an arm and pulls you gently into his side, moving in a way that makes it an invitation and not a demand, while he’s talking about what to watch.

You fall asleep there. So does he.

Things turn a bit funny after that in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. At the surface, everything is the same. But nothing feels the same. Every time there’s a tease, casual touches, close quarters, you have to chant not stupid not stupid not stupid on repeat in your head. He’s just Johnny, that’s all. The guy you could have grown up with.

You keep up the dinners and the weekends, and eventually, finally realize that with him around to take all your extras, you can bake. It’s something you’ve wanted to try forever, but recipes don’t really make single servings, and you never had anyone to pawn off the other 22 muffins or ¾ of the cake onto, or the sheet of croissants, because you absolutely want to try the most fussy, difficult things. And it turns out, when at last he tells you what he does, that Johnny works at the local military base–which at least explains his size–so if he can’t polish something off, well, he knows some blokes.

You’re so excited after that, things almost seem to return to normal. He even comes over and hangs out while you’re baking sometimes. Just knocking about, licking the beaters and the spoons and the bowls, doing dishes as you go, fidgeting with this or that, all while knowing you’re equally as likely to produce something inedible as you are a treat.

Johnny tells you a little about his career one evening. He says that it means he’s in real danger often, there’s a lot of secrecy with people in his personal life, long absences and surprise ones, shit pay, and likely a brief expiration date. (You don’t really let that last one in). He’s got a bit of a funny look in his eyes when he shares about all of it. Quite focused on you, in a way? It makes your cheeks heat. It isn’t as if it’s on you to approve of his life.

But at least now you understand why he’s on his own. And you suppose you’re a bit small, because while you’re incredibly sad for him, part of you is thrilled that it means he’s not likely soon going to be swept away by someone else too soon.

You just gather yourself up, smile, and tell him that at least he’s spending the time he has as best he can, which is a hell of a lot more than a lot of people do–although you personally hope there’s a lot more of it. And that… at the end, you're glad for all the times you're involved.

Johnny’s leaning against the counter while you fold nuts and rum-soaked fruit into a thick batter, his normally busy hands jammed into his pockets, posture a bit off, and so close you almost keep elbowing him on accident, the two of you just bantering back and forth. 

You turn your head toward him to fire back, and–

–his mouth is just there, on yours.

He lingers, but doesn’t move otherwise. It’s… testing, you think. You feel his lips shake against yours, in fact, just once. 

Your shock dies fast and your eyes slip closed, and while it’s a brief kiss, when he pulls away, you don’t open them. You can’t. Because if you’re honest, you’ve probably been gone for him since the first time you gave him a friendly hug goodnight, and it’s only ever gotten worse. If you open your eyes, this won’t be real, or it won’t have happened, or it will shatter somehow.

After a pause, he runs the back of a finger down your temple, trailing the side of your face to your jaw. You still won’t open your eyes, so he just toys with your face until you do.

He’s got a soul-crushing smile at the corners of his eyes.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he admits into the quiet.

“...Oh?” Your voice is embarrassingly, unhelpfully breathy. It’d probably be mortifying, if you had the mental capacity to fully register embarrassment at the moment.

He pauses, smile making its way to his lips, and curling them up at the corners, bit by bit. He cants his head, just a little, like he wants to see you from another angle. “Aye. …Might’ve been since the first time I saw you at the mailboxes.”

“Oh?” 

That had been one of the first times you remember ever seeing him. He never said a word to you other than, “Mornin’” or “Evenin’,” if he said anything at all.

His smile blooms until you can see his teeth. “You were wearing this little shirt. Green, thin. Bit worn, like it was a favorite. Showed a wee spot of skin at your back.” His fingers brush the spot, soft and testing, near the base of your spine, and it jolts you from scalp to toes. “Might’ve… lost some time, thinking about what it’d feel like if I slid my hand up there.” He toys with the hem of your shirt and steps in, voice going deeper and rougher around the edges. “Might’ve imagined pushing it up, getting a bit closer. Really might’ve imagined putting your back up to the slots, mo–”

You kiss him this time, before he can go on, and it’s anything but testing.

And just like everything else about him, this fits. 

His mouth fits against yours. His body fits against yours. And as if some band of control snaps, so abruptly you swear you feel it jolt through his skin, he's got you up on the counter, his thighs between yours, both of you already breathing hard.

His hands on you are perfect, calloused, slipping up under the back of your shirt, smoothing and gripping, making your chest and your thighs feel molten. It's ravenous, like he just has to touch your skin, has to get you closer. You arch toward him, fingers running up through his hair, legs curling around his and pulling him nearer.

His hips are carefully, stubbornly, infuriatingly back from you, but the kiss is so full of need, so close, that some of his breaths sound hollow against your mouth. It's like he can't decide whether inhaling or devouring you is more important, so he just doesn't choose.

When you're at the point of moaning unintentionally, of hungry little sounds forcing their way out of your chest, of your hips moving against the counter in desperation, when you're moments from outright begging, Johnny pulls back, and goes further when you try to chase his mouth.

His lips are red and full, his face dark--much worse when he catches sight of how completely drunk you must look--and he's panting. His fingers dig into your hips like he's trying to keep one or both of you from drowning. He squeezes his eyes shut.

You don't mean to, you really don't, but you look down, and lord help you but–

“That looks painful,” you tell him. Your voice sounds like it's been run over a washboard. He's tented against his denim, and his size is… proportional.

…You can't seem to remember how to make yourself look up.

“Really rather not talk about my cock just now, love,” he gravels, fingers clenching briefly against you. His head tips forward onto your shoulder, breaths panting out against your collar bone, leaving you to pick up every bit of heat he's trying to get out of himself.

You hum, teasing. “Shame, because I can't think of anything I'd rather talk ab—”

His big paw covers your mouth. “For the love of every Saint, I’m beggi—”

You cut him off right back. By licking his palm.

He recoils in horror, but the moment your eyes meet, you both burst into laughter, made worse every time he tries to tell you how disgusting that is, something about his sisters as kids, you don't know what else.

You're the first to sober, breathing almost back to normal, thoughts already whirring on fast-forward. You look down, pulling your knees together, hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Are we…. Will we be ok, after this?”

You peek up to see him looking at you like you're daft.

“‘S been the better part of a year,” he says softly, moving forward and running his thumbs over your knees. Asking your legs to make room again, to let him get close again. “Have you really not figured it out, all this time?” 

Your legs open hesitantly, and he steps in and, when you look up at him, kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, slow and warm and so tender it feels like your chest is cracking right down the center.

Eyes closed, brows a little pinched, you murmur, “We can't all be SAS savants, Johnny.” Maybe you know. Maybe. But it has been all this time, so maybe you need to hear it, too.

He's still kissing, pace unhurried and savouring, making his way to your jaw and just beneath it. But it's calming now, somewhere between reverential and still trying to bring the both of you down. Himself especially, you think.

“Then let me spell it out for you. Gladly.” He noses up against the bottom of your ear and roughs, “You are fucking stuck with me. Glued. Bloody welded.” He huffs a laugh and leans back upright—but not all the way, not too far back. “This isnae a new thing for me. You know that, right? I just….” He shakes his head and abandons the thought, “Hell, my mates have already been asking when they can come over for dinner, the dobbers.”

Your brows shoot up. “You've talked about me at work?”

He looks down, and while his face is in half a scowl, you'd swear he does it to hide a slight flush, too. “Haven't shut up about you, more like. Should hear what my Lieutenant– Ach, nevermind that.”

You hurry to say that they're welcome any time, but it makes him scowl fully.

“Not exactly keen on the idea just yet.” He puts his arms around you, buries his face in your neck, and just stands there, breathing you in. He mutters into the crook of your shoulder, “Mind if I stay like this for a bit? Just while I, uh… calm down.”

His hips are still well back from you. You’re not sure you’ve ever adored and hated him so much at once.

“I’d really like that,” you tell him softly, arms going around his ribs, hands on his shoulders, chest to chest.

It's warm and resounding like this, so after a spell, without thinking, you bite his shoulder. Just sink your teeth in and leave them there. It’s not even entirely conscious, it's just so comfortable and comforting.

“All good, there, wee piranha?” he eventually asks, a smile in his voice.

You detach instantly. “Ah, sorry! I, uh, might have a tiny bit of an oral fixation.”

He groans. “Are ye trying to do me in?”

“I’m not the one who said we had to stop, Mr. Military Discipline.”

His eyes darken in a flash, but he tamps down on it just as quickly and gets that godawful cocky look on his face, instead. “Pardon me for not wanting to rush something that really matters.” His tone goes so soft at the end that you can’t even be mad at him--exactly as you know he intended, the great bastard.

“How did I not know what a sadist you are?”

And that look means he’s about to make you eat your words.

“Johnny I will happily kill you in your sleep.”

“I could handle that. Means you'd be in my bed, aye?”

He pulls your hands up from the death grip they've found on the edge of the counter and laces your fingers together. “I dinnae….” He clears his throat, frowns. “Just being away on deployment is shite now, and I love what I do. But I miss you while I'm gone, think about you back here all the bloody time, and we havnae even….”

When he doesn’t finish, you whisper, heart clenching with the realization, “You don't want to rush this.”

He laughs quietly like he wants to argue. But what he says is, “No. I don't. But while that's true….” He steps in, chin ducking, eyes darkening even as they shine, voice lowering. “What do you say we turn the oven off? I've a funny feeling you willnae be getting around to that bake today.”

Masterlist

[wintersera]

heatstroke || omega!winter x alpha!reader

notes: i’m back after a long ass time HIII saw these pics and i had to cook something up really quick… like lord, PLEASE LORD TAKE THE WHEEL

cw: omegaverse, g!p reader, alpha reader, omega minjeong, breeding kink, biting. one mention of weed

wc: 2.9k

it’s the third day in a row where minjeong invited you over to her house in the countryside. blades of grass rustling in the late afternoon breeze while the sun still beamed brightly in the cloudless sky.

you sat outside the house, sitting on the cool wooden porch as you stared out into the distance, contemplating the last minute choice of staying over at your friends house.

this week's forecast showed a constant 35 degrees celsius and above— 95 fahrenheit and above if you’re american, across the board. the humidity didn’t help either. it felt suffocating to even move around given that the humidity felt like it had raised the temperature up way more than it should have.

you would hate it less if there were ac, but since you were staying over in her small traditional house, you had no other choice than to deal with the excruciating sun rays beaming down on your exposed skin.

sat in a simple thin tank top and short shorts, you lift up the fabric of your top, flapping it around to generate some sort of cool breeze.

as sweat dripped down your face, minjeong appeared behind you, also dripping with salty sweat down from her forehead all the way to her chin “here” she tossed you a cold beer without much care. she knew you’d catch it anyway.

“didn’t you say your fridge broke down?” the cold metal pressed against your nape felt blissful in these times. you rubbed the can all over your body before it unfortunately warmed up from both your body temperature and because of how you were sitting out in the blistering sun.

“i ran over to the vending machine down the street” minjeong sat fairly far away from you on the porch. not because she didn’t like being near you, but because somehow you were quite literally a walking heater “there was a whole line of people” the girl chuckled, popping open the can she got for herself “almost all the drinks ran out, it was crazy y/n. you should’ve seen the old lady scolding this guy for buying, like, ten drinks”

the burn of the alcohol slid down your throat. it almost sort of tasted sweet in a way, but still, it was beer, and beer was annoyingly bitter on your taste buds “i’d honestly do the same if i was there” though it was downright disgusting, the slight coldness made you chug the entire can in one go “why are you wearing that big ass long sleeved shirt, minjeong?”

“i told you~” the shorter girl whined “the electricians won’t be coming soon, so it fucked up the neighbourhood and no one has working outlets anymore”

“you don’t have any spare clothes laying around then? might as well take it off”

“yeah, no i don’t…and no, y/n. i’m not taking it off” she retorted back with an attitude “oh crap, i almost forgot to give you this” minjeong laid down to reach her bag, conveniently having stored a few ice packs in there, and took out two pre packaged ice cream cones. one strawberry, and one plain vanilla.

“yours is definitely vanilla, right?” knowing her tastes, your hand instinctively reached out for the strawberry flavoured ice cream cone. due to the heat, the cream had leaked a little bit out from the wrapper, but i guess that was to be expected anyway.

minjeong nodded, her back still against the now warm wood of the porch, unwrapping the ice cream and taking a few kitten licks.

the both of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching the birds fly around whilst the cicadas buzzed loudly in the background.

“ah—“ minjeong’s little squeak caught your attention briefly, then you were back to watching the birds fly around in the sky. a few pigeons and crows flying by, nothing too out of the ordinary.

“nooo~ i’m all sticky now” you take a glance once more, then your attention returned back to the blue sky, spacing out all over again, but before you could even utter anything snarky about minjeong dropping her ice cream on herself, your head whipped around to do a double take. melted ice cream stained her last clean shirt she had, with no other choice she had to deal with the sticky fabric or just take the whole thing off.

for a second, your eyes caught a spot dribbling down her fingers and onto her wrists. her plump lips parted open for her tongue to dart out. cheeks reddened at the sight of her licking the melted… white cream…

“you know you could—“

“i’m not taking it off. it’s too embarrassing” she definitely could, after all it wouldn’t bother you all too much. you’ve seen people naked. it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“eh… too lazy to move” whilst sprawled out on the floor, her hand pulled up her shirt a little more “ahh~ that feels so much better” toned midriff exposed to the golden sun rays, the reflective light bouncing off her smooth and silky skin.

“whatever floats your boat, i guess” actually, maybe this was bothering you a little more than you had anticipated.

besides the outrageous heat, there was another issue you had that was on your mind.

although you were long term friends with minjeong, probably since you met her in highschool, you had always told her, and the people around you, that you were a full fledged beta. nothing more, nothing less.

god knows how she would react if she had found out you were a pure blooded alpha.

speaking of… you began to feel a little strange “mmm… something smells nice” images of minjeong flashed in your mind. her exposed milky thighs, that oversized shirt she pulled up to show her huggable waist and tummy, melted ice cream on the corner of her lips, and how she was so vulnerable sprawled out across the floor.

shit. oh shit… she looked way too good. so good that you could easily pick her up and do whatever you want with that petite and fragile body of hers.

before you knew it, your cock started to strain against your shorts. uncomfortable, you shifted as you sat in a less revealing manner, taking the ice cream to your lips to calm the heat rushing to your face.

now is not the time for an unexpected rut. fuck. “i’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick” it took a lot of mental strength to avoid gazing at minjeong… a lot of mental strength considering you were covering up your horrendously hard dick as you rushed past her.

“where… where is it—“ usually you had a couple rut suppressants laying around in your pockets, if not, then your bags. and if it wasn't in either, you’d run to the local pharmacy to buy a fresh set of both suppressants and scent blockers. but unlucky you had to be in the middle of the fuckass countryside with a pharmacy that sells neither.

minjeong’s scent was getting stronger, heavier. a pinch of spiced apples wafted into the bathroom unexpectedly. intoxicating. it wasn’t like she was in heat, that’s if your scent didn’t occupy her nostrils by now.

to distract your mind from plunging further into the pit of no return, or rather fantasising about plunging into minjeong’s soft thighs to bury your face right into her pussy, a cold splash of water to your face would do the trick. hopefully.

the faucet was pretty much shut tight, and living in the city for pretty much your whole entire life, you would rather stay hot and bothered— both ways, than to go out and douse yourself with cold water from the hose.

defeated, you walk with your imaginary tail between your legs, eyes averted from minjeong as you sit somewhere else in her house. preferably the furthest room away from where she was laying down.

minjeong, however, followed behind you “do you smell something weird? it smells like cedarwood and a little bit of tobacco” you froze in place for a second. maybe you should straight up tell her the truth. better off than losing your composure and submitting to your instincts in front of her.

she sat close to you despite the suffocating heat. being this close in proximity… her scent was stronger than ever. your cock throbbed in your shorts as she inspected you with curious eyes, her concentrated face wrangling in more indecent thoughts as the seconds flew by “must be someone smoking a blunt out there…” you gulped nervously.

what an obvious lie you told. she rolled her eyes at you, lightly hitting you across the shoulder with a small, amused laugh “we’re in south fucking korea, y/n. i doubt someone is openly smoking weed out in the streets” which was true god damn it.

heart drumming loudly in your chest, your eyes zeroing in on minjeong’s body, every shred of composure seemed to crumble once she checked your temperature with her shockingly cold hands “don’t…” you huff, grabbing her wrists gently “i’m okay”

“you don’t seem okay. you’re showing signs of heatstroke” to be honest, that might be the case as well, but you doubt it was heatstroke given the fact that you were obviously flustered and hot by her sudden approach “crap, and almost everything in this house is broken— y/n, come here”

“mmm…” without any access to cold water, and the cold drinks already gone alongside the ice cream, you had no choice but to suffer in silence. that is until minjeong pulled on the ends of your top. again, that rich spiced apple scent…

“take it off, it’ll be cooler for you” seeing her tiny hands on your top, sliding it off gently with her glossy eyes carefully wandering all over you shattered your last wall of composure.

you rolled minjeong over the futon mattress, her puppy dog eyes staring holes into your face “y-your scent. it’s just way too strong, minjeong” without further ado, you dived into minjeong’s neck, breathing in her delicious scent as you nudged your covered bulge against her clothed pussy.

“i knew it” a soft moan escaped from her lips, the friction between the two of you becoming hotter and hotter with each grind of your hips “you’re way too obvious”

“shut up…” the sliding door was still open to the outside, it would be risky to carry on what you were doing, especially knowing how your scent was particularly stronger in comparison to other alphas. but really, who cares? “is this even okay with you?” albeit concerned, your teeth still grazed her neck gently, kissing and sucking her skin in a way to not so permanently mark her up.

“why else do you think— mmm… that i’ve been inviting you around so often. just… hurry up. you’re triggering my heat” her words alone made you ecstatic. to be fair, you were pent up lately. you continued to rut into her, holding up her thighs as your bulge was threatening to burst through your shorts. in due time, slick began to drip from her hole, dampening both your shorts and her panties.

“can i let loose?” you were already sliding off her panties, following the removal of yours straight after. minjeong’s legs spread wide open for you, her pretty pink folds slathered with her slick, and her puffy clit that looked so sensitive to touch. she stared right into your eyes and gave you a nod of approval.

you manage to push yourself all the way inside of her tight pussy, molding her walls to accommodate the size of your girthy cock. minjeong wrapped her arms around your neck, her nails digging deep and breaking the skin on your back, only making you push as deep as you can in return. her wetness made your entry much easier than you had thought. she just looked way too tiny to take your entire length. this girl was just full of surprises.

sooner or later you would give into your biological urges, and so would minjeong. you could feel it now actually. the primal desire to breed her until she would bear your pups, the need to mark her, to make her yours. you could feel your rationality being thrown out the window, replaced by pure animalistic lust “je..jesus christ, so fucking thick…”

minjeong tried to gather what was left of her scattered thoughts into coherent sentences, but the way your cock filled her up rendered her speechless. you hadn’t moved at all, and yet she was digging her claws into your back as if you were slamming your hips into her.

“i haven’t even moved yet” you chuckled, moving your hips slowly to test the waters. her warmth coated your entire length, feeling as you were melting by simply being inside of her.

testing the waters was not enough for you, you craved for more. a rougher and faster pace would suffice, but you didn’t know if minjeong could handle you that well. after all, the two of you never fucked before.

no, it really wasn’t enough. you had to fuck her hard whether or not she was prepared “gonna… go rough” hands on each side of her waist, using her body, you pushed and pulled her onto your cock. you met with each thrust, burying your tip further and further inside with as much vigour as humanly possible.

buried between the crook of her neck, your lips feverishly pecked at her skin once again, savouring the salty taste of her sweat on the tip of your tongue all while inhaling her addictively sweet and rich scent. all for you to keep for yourself.

on the other hand, minjeong was fairly inexperienced. her thighs began to slowly close, but with your strong grip, you kept them wide open for you to easily slide in and out of her pussy “mi…njeong” you call out to her as you push down on her tummy, locking eyes with the teary eyed girl “g-get on top of me”

you leaned back onto the futon mattress, straightening minjeong’s back as she straddles your lap. the position you were in made it possible to go as deep as minjeong wanted to go, but that didn’t mean she was in control.

“s’too… too big” strings of slick dripped down her thigh, pooling onto your pelvis. you paid no mind to the mess, rather, you encouraged it even further by toying with her overly sensitive clit “f-fu..ck— oh my god, y/n”

every moan urged you to play with her more. not one, but two fingers rubbed circles against her clit, collecting her slick time to time before going back in to do the same motions. it was a win-win situation. each circular motion caused her to clamp down hard on your cock.

but still, it wasn’t enough for either of you.

changing position for possibly the last time, minjeong laid flat on her stomach, as you pound her pussy from behind. with each thrust, the sounds of your hips smacking into her ass sounded throughout the room, and possibly bleeded out onto the empty streets of the village, disrupting the neighbourhood with your moaning and groaning, and minjeong’s cries of pleasure too.

poor minjeong couldn’t speak properly. words she wanted to moan, came out as garbled nonsense, cries and whines too as your relentless rhythm fucked her until she couldn’t even think properly anymore.

at this point, the room was steaming. the scent of you and her mingling with the sweat formed from the intensive heat outside, and the heat generated between the both of you. to say the least, the room reeked of sex.

messy and rough sex.

seconds into kissing her nape, you could feel the tightening of minjeong’s cunt restrict the movement of your thrust, making it a lot more difficult to catch your high, yet somehow the grip brought you closer towards the limit.

now, you could see minjeong clawing into her mattress, scratching the fabric that held all the foam together. her breath became jagged, grunting and groaning harshly till her voice became hoarse with how much she was calling out your name.

“god… i’m gonna— fuck, y/n i’m cumming, i’m gonna cum” claws ripping the linen fabric of the mattress, minjeong lets out a high pitched whimper, her body convulsing as you thrust relentlessly into her.

quickly, your sharp canines sank into her nape by instinct as she came, lessening the pain for marking and replacing it with searing hot pleasure.

still, with you still raring to go, you kept on going until you couldn’t last much longer either. your grip of minjeong’s ass as you pounded harshly into her overstimulated pussy was the final straw. your knot swelled eventually, locking the two of you in place as thick strings of semen poured into her, filling her up to the brim.

laid on top of minjeong, your breath slows, and so does hers “s-sorry… i didn’t mean to claim you” you say, yet your actions speak otherwise, inhaling in her scent to calm yourself down from the intensive orgasm “it’s kind of your fault though. teasing me with that ice cream and that shirt”

“to be honest, i just wanted to see how far you’d stick with that whole beta persona” minjeong huffed into the pillow, stroking your arm as your knot began to lessen, semen now oozing out from her hole “so worth it actually…”

“yeah, but now you’re gonna bear my pups now…” you huff into her neck.

“so worth it” now that your knot began to shrink in size, minjeong turned around, gazing longingly into your eyes with a look you’ve never seen from her before “that just means that you’re gonna be stuck with me forever now, right?” she smirked, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“mmm, yeah i like that thought”

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

Give It To Someone Special (Detective!Agnes x f!Reader)

You take your fiancée home before the holidays, but your parents and Agnes have never been on the same wavelength. On the drive back home, you offer her the best remedy to release her tension that you know.

Content/Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, Car Sex, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Age Gap Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Choking, Spit Play, Degradation kink, They fuck nasty but they really love each other

Thank you so much to @ragnarockz @msharkness @lotsofmilfs for beta reading and helping me get this out in time for the holidays! I appreciate all of you angels so much! ♡

I‘m actually home for Christmas for the first time in years and the amount of time driving around to meet family that finds me odd and off putting inspired me, but like make it horny and enjoyable. My Yuletide Gift, from me to you! Enjoy my loves, happy holidays!

It was raining. Of course it was, you were in early December, and thanks to climate change, Westview barely got an actual white Christmas anymore. Let alone snowy December Days. Driving even further down South to the town your parents lived in certainly hadn’t helped. Miniscule raindrops hit the windshield silently, making the view muddy. The road was concealed by the mist like rain, the cars headlights piercing through just enough to safely follow the path.

Some young pop stars had covered Last Christmas, and the radio played it for the third time today. If dinner had been better, you might have sung along. But, as per usual, bringing Agnes out to see your parents had gone like shit, so you didn’t exactly feel the holiday spirit right now. The rain didn’t exactly help either.

Agnes‘ hair was in a low ponytail, a few strands falling loose around her face, forehead creased stoically as her eyes were fixed on the road. A few days ago, you‘d found the first grey hairs on her head while laying entangled in the morning, pressing little kisses to the crown of her head as she’d frowned and told you to get box dye immediately.

Now, the grey had disappeared between the rich brown of the rest of her hair,. If if you didn’t know you probably wouldn’t even notice them at all. However, the frown on her face remained. Just, it wasn’t her own greys frustrating her anymore. It was your parents. You licked your lips, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. Not while she was driving in weather conditions like this.

„Thank you“, you said instead, breaking the silence that had lingered since you‘dyou'd entered the car in your parents driveway. „For coming with me. I know you don’t exactly get along.“

Her jaw tensed, you could hear the motor give a tiny roar when her foot pressed down on the gas a little harder. You swallowed, eyes focusing back on the dark road before you. The highway was empty this late on a Sunday, especially in this weather. It was early December, most people hadn’t gone to visit family yet. You just liked to get it done early.

„I don’t mind your dad most of the time“, Agnes huffed, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. „But today … was just uncalled for.“

„What did he say?“, you asked without looking at her, wanting to give her the space to dodge the question if she didn‘t want to talk about it.

„He probably just had too much beer.“, Agnes snarled, but you could tell it still bothered her, „Said the ring you’re wearing is a seal of your fate, that you’ll be in the prime of your life stuck taking care of some bitter old cop. That I‘m stealing your best years and you don’t even realise it.“

You bit the inside of your cheek, anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. „I‘m sorry. He shouldn’t feel entitled to say something like that, alcohol or not. That’s messed up.“

She scoffed, shoulders rolling back. „It’s fine. I know your mom doesn’t like me either.“

„That’s not true“, your tone didn’t even convince yourself. Your mother was better at pretending, but even you knew the smile she put on whenever Agnes and you drove down once or twice a year was a forced one. That she wished the person you brought home was anyone but the rough around the edges woman besides you. Like it was any of her business who made you happy.

Agnes scoffed. „I know she doesn’t show you her brunch friends’ shiny young sons for shits and giggles.“

„Agnes.“

The rain had intensified, thick drops of rain splattering against the windshield. Another roar of the engine. She kept her eyes focused on the road, gripping the steering wheel a lot tighter than she had to. You swallowed.

„You know none of their shit matters, right?“, A heavy sigh left your lips when she wouldn’t even glance at you, „My dad is talking out of his ass and my mother still thinks maybe the whole liking women thing will be over soon, as if we haven’t been engaged for two years now.“

Agnes stayed silent, eyes sternly focused on the dark road, only the sound of raindrops splattering onto the windshield between you. And that cover of Last Christmas, again.

You passed a road sign. A parking lot and a phone cell just a few miles ahead of you.

„Let’s stop there“, you proposed, watching the way Agnes pressed her lips together in a harsh line. „You know I don’t like when you drive angry.“

„I‘m not angry“, she replied immediately, and as if to prove her point, she took her foot off the gas, letting the car slow down a little, „I‘m just … irritated.“

„Either way“, finally, you reached out to her, brushing the few lost strands of hair behind her ear. The gentle touch of your fingertips against her cheek had her exhale immediately, readjusting her grip on the steering wheel. The car did a minimal swirl to the left before she caught herself again and readjusted her position on the road.

You giggled, pulling your hand away, elbows leaning on the middle console as you grinned at her. The tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips, giving her a coy smile. „I think you should take a break to … release some tension anyway.“ Your voice dropped lower when you saw the way her jaw tensed. „And it‘s just us out here tonight.“

At the clearly suggestive tone that swung in your voice, she finally glanced over at you, pupils dark. You shrugged your coat off your shoulders, leaning a little further towards her, eyes batting almost innocently.

Agnes' eyes stared at your lips, your eyes, your shoulder, still covered by a knit sweater, but the lacy strap of your bra peeking out, and then quickly back to the road before you.

She swallowed hard, then scoffed. But the smirk on her lips betrayed her, even as her eyes turned back to the road. Her right hand left the steering wheel to come rest firmly on your thigh, fingers brushing over the fabric of your pants so high up, your breath hitched at the contact. That made her chuckle, a low sound in the back of her throat, and she blinked right to pull over into the parking lot. „Maybe you’re right“, her thumb ran lazily up and down your inner thigh and you felt your stomach tighten at the touch. „A break sounds good right now.“

You were right, the small square of asphalt lay completely abandoned, nothing but a few parking spots and a telephone cell already halfway towards decay. No street lights, no buildings, just Agnes' grey little car alone between fields and meadows, the rain now pouring down against the metal roof.

Agnes put the car into park mode and turned off the radio, right hand never leaving your thigh as she did so, and then took a deep breath, back of her head hitting her seat as she did. She would never admit it, but she wasn’t just frustrated, she was tired too. Exhausted of never being enough to please your parents, of every trip to see them going to shit in some way. There was the little crease between her brows, the one she always got when she worried, when she was questioning herself.

„Baby“, you sighed. Now that you were safely parked, you leaned over the middle console completely and reached for her face with both hands, turning her head to face you. The tips of your fingers ran over her cheekbones, gently cradling her face, and her face immediately softened. Her hands wrapped around your wrists, keeping you close, the tips of your noses mere inches apart from each other.

„I‘m sorry we left on a bad note“, she said, blue eyes warm as she scanned your face, „I know you just want them to be happy.“

You shook your head at that, your thumbs brushing over her bottom lip as you gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

„I‘m sorry we spent your day off driving all the way down there only for dinner to be shit“, you replied, „I want my parents to be happy, but I value your happiness more.“

Her eyes widened, and you watched her pupils dilate at your little smile, which only made you grin brighter. „I mean it.“

Agnes' lips parted and she took a short breath. But before she could say anything else though, you surged forward, cutting her off with your lips on hers. Chapped lips melted against yours, leaning forward to deepen the kiss immediately. Fingers wrapped around the back of your neck to tug you closer, and you had to smile against her. Your teeth brushed against her upper lip and you felt Agnes holding back a little moan against your lips.

„I don’t care what my parents think“, you whispered, cupping her face in your palms. You made sure to look at her while speaking, watching the way her eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, back to your lips. Your breath was heavy. „I just want you.“

For a moment, you just held eye contact in silence.

Agnes barely smiled, and she wasn’t one to keep her heart on her sleeve either, but you had learned that a lot of her inner world played out right behind her eyes. The way all color seemed to fade from them when she was sad, every little crease of her brow. How bright and wide they turned only when she looked at you.

Your tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip as she scanned your face, that bright, distant look of almost disbelief on her face. Like she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that you were real, that you chose to wake up next to her every single day. Like she was trying really hard to focus on what you were saying, but failing miserably.

A calloused thumb ran along your jaw, gentle like you were something delicate to be handled with care.

„You’re too good to me“, she murmured, and your own hand found hers, clasping around the pale skin, her fingers flexing in your grip.

„And you’re still way too tense“, you whispered, watching her eyes widen as you lead her thumb up and over your chin, grazing your bottom lip. Her eyes were firmly focused on the tip of her thumb, and you couldn’t help but grin before pushing it up further, lips parting to slip the single digit inside.

Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, watching the way your lips closed around her finger like it was some kind of mysterious sorcery, like she’d never seen it before. You had to withhold a smirk, tongue swirling around the tip of her thumb playfully, cheeks hollowing out as you made a show out of it. Agnes' other hand on the back of your neck tightened its grip, grasping at your soft hairs there.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a soft moan, like her thumb pressing down onto your tongue was the most delicious thing you‘ve ever tasted. It was. Your stomach did a little flip at the taste, and a part of you wanted her to push more fingers past your lips, until you were gagging on her.

When she pulled out eventually, thumb now glistening wet, your mouth still parted as you blinked up at her with a smirk, you could swear you saw her tremble a little.

Agnes was fidgeting around in her seat, her eyes dark as she licked her lips, gaze heavy with arousal.

She kissed you again, firmly, one hand finding your shoulder and holding you in place, the other on your cheek, her wet thumb leaving a thin trail of your saliva on your skin. It made your insides feel like they were burning up.

„I really want to eat you out right now“, you gasped into her mouth, barely holding back the breathless giggle that accompanied your words. Her grip in your shoulder tightened, fingers digging into your skin.

„Way too good to me“, Agnes purred, her gaze heavy, fingers hot on your skin. Your lips were parted in a slight pant. Your thighs pressed together where you were still halfway sitting in your seat, halfway draped over the middle console to be as close to her as possible. Agnes glanced down at you, cheeks hot and lips swollen from kissing, your eyes dark and pupils round, practically begging her for more. Her own face was flushed too, and her breath had picked up, taking sharp breaths through her nose.

„Backseat“, she ordered, her tone leaving no room for discussion. Not that you had any intention to disobey. „Now.“

You jumped out of your seat and into the rain faster than you thought you were even able to move.

But, Agnes was still faster. She leapt around the car, pried the backseat door open, and before you even knew what was happening, your back hit the hard cushions. She was on top of you, crowding you up in the limited space of her car, slamming the door behind her shut with a little more force than necessary. She was straddling your hips, eyes now black with lust as she stared down at you. Even though you’d only been in the rain for a few seconds, wet strands of hair were already sticking to her forehead, and she wiped them back with one hand, the other finding your chest, pinning you down against the car seats.

„You’re wet“, she stated, and when a whine left your throat in response, paired with a twitch of your hips underneath her. She let out a hollow laugh. „I meant your shirt, slut.“

Your lips curled into a pout and her hand on your chest grabbed a fistful of your wine red sweater. She leaned down towards you, propping herself up with her other hand, until her face was mere inches from yours. You craned your neck, trying to catch her lips with yours, but she was just out of reach, her smile smug as she tugged harder on your sweater, exposing your midriff. A breathy whine escaped your throat, met by an evil chuckle.

„Not so assertive now, huh?“, her brows raised almost mockingly and for a moment, she just enjoyed watching you struggle underneath her, unable to push up against her grip on your jumper, helplessly wiggling underneath where she had you pinned. It was utterly pathetic, and by the way her breath came ragged, it was exactly what she wanted. Keeping you pinned down by your chest, she rolled her hips down into yours exactly once, the rough fabric of her jeans pushing against your softer, loose fitting slacks.

„Agnes please“, you whined at the contact, staring up at her through heavy lids. Heat was pooling in your stomach, you knew that your underwear must already be absolutely soaked, and you wanted nothing more than for her to just press her knee up against your core, to grind down against her until you were in tears from how good it would feel.

For a moment, she seemed to actually consider it. Then, she readjusted her position, sitting back up. At the loss of her closeness you almost cried out in frustration.

But her gaze was stern, so you didn’t dare to just yet.

„Arms up“, she instructed, eyes twinkling even in the dark at your eagerness.

You put your hands up over your head willingly, allowing her to quickly pull the knit sweater up and off, leaving you in just a thin black bralette, goosebumps rising on your skin. The moment the jumper was over your head, her lips found yours in a bruising kiss. One of her hands found your wrists and immediately pinned them over your head, the other one found your ribs, tips of her fingers running over your exposed skin. When you gasped at the contact, she took the opportunity to slip her tongue past your lips, smirking against you at the mewl in the back of your throat. The muscle ran over your teeth, pushing your own tongue aside as she explored your mouth, claiming each and every inch as her own in the process. Her hand ran over the flimsy lace of your bralette, and the little squeeze to one of your breasts made you squeak into her mouth.

“Worked up already?“, her voice had dropped low, that mocking tone she loved to taunt you with. A thumb ran over the curve of your breast, self satisfaction painting her face when she found your nipple already hard peaking through the thin fabric. She ran her index and middle finger over it, pressing down right into the hard bud just once. Hot pleasure surged through your body and your chest pushed up into her touch, the mewl escaping your lips loud and desperate.

„You know“, her hand wandered further up, over your collarbone. The tip of her finger ran over it asshe licked her lips. Like she was already planning how to devour you, how she was going to paint your delicate skin in shades of purple.

She was watching the way you were trembling under her touch, trying so hard to stay still. Fingers wandered up your throat, finally clasping around your neck, her grip firm but not yet tight. Agnes leaned down, voice ghosting so close to your ear you could feel her lips move against it. „If you just wanted me to fuck you in the backseat, you could’ve just asked.“

A moment of silence. Then you felt the tip of her tongue dart out, running along the shell of your ear. Hot breath right against it. „Next time we can skip the entire dinner and just go straight to this.“

Finally, her legs shifted, her knee pushing between your thighs. Your legs parted willingly, mouth opening in a gasp. Her fingers tightened around your neck, and the mix of finally feeling something push up against your aching cunt and the sudden lack of oxygen made your head spin. Agnes knew how to make you melt into nothing but a boiling hot puddle beneath her.

Agnes’ voice was still right by your ear, though she was leaning towards your face now, watching every muscle shift in reaction to her touch.

„You think you can cum like this?“, she taunted, „With me merely touching you?“

You nodded frantically, eyes wide with eagerness. Agnes scoffed, „Didn’t take you for such a needy slut, but alright.“ Without warning, her knee pushed up hard against you, and the squeak you let out was high pitched and throaty, weak through her firm hold on your neck. The older woman raised her brows expectantly, „Show me, and maybe I‘ll fuck you properly after.“

There were lawyers of fabric between you, and it shouldn’t work as well as it did, but God, you could not get enough. Your underwear was soaked, sticking to your core, and if you rolled your hips just right, angled yourself with just the slightest arch of your back, your clit brushed against her knee just right. So that was exactly what you did, grinding down into her, trying desperately to push closer as she kept your wrists pinned above your head with one hand, and your throat tightly gripped by the other. Piercing blue eyes stared down at you, taking in every single rut of your hips, every gasping attention to grasp for air, the flush of your face, your eyes fluttering open and closed as you worked yourself against her, steady and unwavering even in your compromising position. It was a borderline pathetic sight, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She needed to watch you fall apart like this, needed you to come undone on the brink of consciousness. She needed to see you in absolute ruin, from barely any stimulation at all. So you did.

You lost your sense of orientation, no way to tell where was up and down. Stars danced before your eyes, black spots mixing in with them over the blurry view of her face hovering over you. Hot white, spots of black, bright blue. Your eyes fluttered shut, but the view remained. Hips pressing down hard against her knee, picking up their pace as much as you could. Or maybe the sudden flashes of almost painful pleasure just came naturally, you genuinely couldn’t tell. But the soaked cotton of your underwear rubbed against your aching clit, pulsating with want as you chased more and more of it.

„That’s it“, the only clear sensation flooding your mind was her voice, so close to your ear, ringing through your head, „You look absolutely wrecked, my love.“

Hot, wet lips against the shell of your ear. A moan tried to escape your throat, but no sound could make it past the vice grip she had on your throat.

You felt scathing hot beneath her, burning up from the inside out, pleasure overtaking every last nerve end of your body. Finally, it all came crashing down. Your core pressed against her knee, not even rutting against her anymore, just pushing up as close as you could as a wave of heated, explosive euphoria shot up your spine. Your body was shaking, there was no up or down, left or right. There were just colors dancing before your eyes as your mouth fell open, no scream able to push past her tight hold and the pulsating of your aching clit as the orgasm took over all of your senses.

The grip on your throat disappeared, and your lungs rapidly filled with air in a loud, deep groan. Agnes’ lips attached to the side of your neck, nipping and kissing along the reddened skin, feeling the deep, slow breaths you took as slowly, your vision cleared and you felt the cushions beneath you again.

She released your wrists still pinned to the car door over your head as well, and your hands immediately found her hair, tugging her up towards your lips. She kissed you softly, making sure you could still breathe through it.

You wanted to moan into it, her name right on your lips, but no sound could make it past your throat, the strain settling in. Agnes' tongue darted out against your bottom lip, and you let her enter, hands running down her front. Your fingers dug into the washed out fabric of her flannel shirt, pulling her closer by it. Your legs, still shaking from the ragged orgasm prior loosely wrapped around her hips, holding her as close to you as possible.

The kiss turned heated again, and you felt your sense of up and down slip away. But she pulled away before you could fully lose yourself in the feeling again, leaning back enough to take you in before her. Your neck raw and bruised, painted by choking marks from her hands, a few blooming kisses peppered between them, the ghosting remnants of her teeth against your jaw. She loved to paint you hers, the view of her mark on you unlocking a feral, deep lust in her, a need to claim you and your pleasure as hers. To let everyone who laid eyes upon you know that she was the one touching you, that she was willing to do anything to make you feel good. And the things she did to you, even in the back of your car in the middle of nowhere on a mid December night … it should embarrass you, but something inside you twisted the humiliation into fuel for the fire inside you. Your legs twitched.

„Agnes“, you managed to croak out, surprised by how hoarse your own voice was, the single word barely making it past your lips.

Her brow raised, „What?“

Instead of an answer, you just tilted your head back, lips parting. Your tongue darted out, flat as your gaze found hers, a silent plea. Agnes' eyes turned black, her fingers digging into your waist harder. But, of course, your wish was granted.

Agnes strained her neck, jaw tightening at the movement. She was leaning over you, dark eyes never breaking contact with yours as a single string of saliva left her lips, dropping right onto your waiting tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips closing around it as you savoured her spit like an expensive, rare fruit. With heavy eyes you stared at her from beneath your lashes as you swallowed, wincing at the slight pain the motion sent through your neck.

„Jesus fuck“, Agnes voice was low, nails digging into your waist, and your legs wrapped tighter around her at the sharp pain.

„If you could see yourself right now“, Agnes groaned, „So fucked out … and I haven’t even touched you yet.“

She surged back down, lips crashing into yours, and you managed to actually slip an audible moan past your throat this time, arms wrapping around her neck as you let her tongue lap into your mouth.

„Flip over“, she panted, words mere inches from your own lips, before propping herself up enough to give you some movement space, „On your hands and knees.“

Wriggling into the new position proved slightly difficult in the small space, but eventually you made it. On all fours, you cowered in front of her, Agnes forced to be halfway draped over your body with the low ceiling of the car. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against her before reaching up to brush your hair over your shoulder. Warm lips ghosted over the back of your neck, trailing downward between your shoulder blades.

„You okay?“, she grumbled, lips vibrating against your skin and you gave a quick nod.

Her lips attached to your back again, this time more urgently, sucking your skin between her teeth, the pain minimal but delicious.

Her other hand dove into your pants, brushing over your tailbone before dipping lower. She gave your ass a little squeeze, grunting into your neck at the feeling of your soft flesh in her palm. Her knuckles ran over your asshole on their way further down, and you jumped at the unexpected contact, making her chuckle.

„Now, now“, she just as much purred into your ear, „Don’t get greedy“, teeth nipped at your earlobe, „I‘m saving that one for another time.“

Your breath hitched, pushing back into her touch as her hand ran lower, down the curve of your ass and then finally, the tips of her fingers dipped between your folds.

She hissed at the contact feeling not just how hot you were but also the amount of slick that covered your core, absolutely soaking your underwear that she’d pushed past so easily.

„You are so wet“, she hummed, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot right below your ear, „How embarrassing.“

Her index and middle finger swirled around your entrance, collecting liquid pleasure along their way. Your hips bucked back into her touch almost all on their own, and you heard her tut.

„Don’t get impatient now.“

For a moment, her touch was gone, and all you felt was the stretch of your cotton panties as she pulled her hand away. The lining sat just over your clit, and maybe if you rolled your hips just right …

Agnes let out an evil little laugh. „God, you’re so fucking pathetic.“

And then, without any warning or preparation, she plunged right in. Two digits slid right inside with little to no resistance, and the sudden intrusion made you jump, the moan on your lips shaking your entire body.

„Agnes fuck!“

She did not waste any time easing you into it, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, her hips pressed firmly against your ass. Your fingers dug into the fabric of the car seat underneath you, back arched like a cat to take her as deep as possible.

Once she was sure your position was stable enough, her other hand let go of your waist. Before you knew it, her fist curled into your hair, yanking your head back. You yelped at the unexpected tug, gasping for air as a hot, tingling sensation slowly crept up your entire body.

Her fingers drilled into you mercilessly, other hand pulling your head back by your hair. The tug was harsh at your roots, a sharp pain shooting through your skull that mixed deliciously with the way her fingers brushed over your walls, sliding in and out with no resistance.

„Agnes“, you mewled, eyes rolling back in your skull. The fist in your hair gripped harder.

„What, slut?“, she spat, fingers never breaking their brutal rhythm.

„Please“, was all you managed to reply. But of course, that wasn’t enough.

„Please, what?“ Her tone was harsh, and if it wasn’t for her grip on your hair, your head would have fallen forward in frustration.

“Make me cum“, you groaned, throat burning. You pushed your hips down into her hand, your entire body shaking as her fingers brushed over that one spot that made you see stars. „Like that“, you rasped, not caring for your voice anymore, so lost in the mix of pain and pleasure, all you needed was to reach that peak, and then come crashing down rapidly.

„Don’t stop Agnes, oh god— please don’t stop! I‘m gonna—“

And then you crashed. Her fingers drilled into you relentlessly, hitting the right spot with every thrust. The wet fabric of your panties still clung to your pulsating clit, and you could feel the way she pushed her own hips against the curve of your ass, felt her ragged breath against your back. For a moment, everything turned into singing, burning hot pleasure.

Your limbs gave out beneath you and you collapsed forward onto the seat. However, before your forehead could hit the car door right in front of you, Agnes' arm had wrapped around your waist already, interrupting your fall before gently laying you down on the cushions. Your breaths came ragged, panting loudly, throat still aching, your body numb from sheer overwhelming pleasure, tears stinging in your eyes.

But Agnes was right there. Her hand slipped out of your pants, running up your spine to brush your hair out of your face, a gentle kiss finding your cheek, arms wrapped around you firmly enough to keep you grounded, but not so tight that you could feel smothered. Slowly, your breath evened, craning your neck carefully, just enough to glance back at her.

„Fuck“, you sighed, sweat glistening on your brow.

Agnes chuckled. „What, you’re done already?“ Her hand brushed a few strands of hair from your forehead, stuck to the layer of sweat on your skin, „I thought you were gonna eat me out back here“

Still catching your breath, you shook your head at her. „Not after that I‘m not“, your voice was hoarse, throat still a little tight and you‘d definitely feel sore tomorrow morning. „I can barely breathe.“

Her thumb slid underneath your chin, tilting your face upwards to look directly at her. „Are you okay, darling? Did I go to hard?“

Slowly, as to not strain your neck any further, you shook your head. „I promise I‘d tell you if you did.“

Her eyes scanned your face for any signs of pain, but when all you did was give her a gentle smile, she nodded. „Let’s lay you down for a moment," she whispered, leaning forward. Her lips pressed against your forehead for a soft, lingering kiss, “I could use a breather myself.“

You were laying on your back, head in her lap, the blanket she kept in the back of the car for emergencies draped over your body, your hands holding one of hers, gently running your fingertips up and down her calloused palm. The movement came to a halt when she felt the metal of your ring brush against her skin, the rough edges of the little polished amethyst on the band. Her hand clasped around yours, warm skin against skin.

„We should pick a date soon“, she whispered suddenly, and your eyes fluttered open, already half asleep in your exhausted state.

„Hm?“

She leaned forward, nose brushing against the shell of your ear before pressing a single, small kiss to your cheek. „We should get married next summer“, she whispered, ponytail falling over her shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat.

„I‘ve already made you wait too long," Agnes murmured, forehead resting against yours.

You stretched your free arm over your head, blinking up at her, eyes bright in the half dark of the car.

„I‘d like that“, you whispered back, voice growing hoarse from the strain your earlier actions had put on your vocal cords. „Maybe Lilia could officiate. And we’d have a bonfire in the backyard. I‘d wear a flower crown. Jen could do my makeup.“ You sounded drowsy, half asleep but still smiling, the vision clear before your eyes, cheeks warm at the thought.

Agnes looked at you for a moment, and her face was soft. No crease on her forehead from constant frowning, no furrowed brows. Her lips were swollen from kissing you so hard, and they were slightly parted when she leaned in, a slow, gentle press of her lips against yours.

„I love you“, she murmured, and you felt her arms wrap tighter around you. „And promise we‘ll make our day the most special day it can be. But Jen is not touching my wife at my wedding. You’re beautiful as is. Jen should feel lucky that she’s invited.“ You rolled your eyes at her, pulling her into another kiss by the back of her neck. She let you, leaning down to brush her lips gently against yours.

The Radio played that stupid song again. This time, it made you smile, whether you wanted it to or not.

„Merry Christmas“, you whispered against her lips, and she pulled back in surprise. For a moment, she stared down at you in disbelief, like she was waiting for a punchline of some sort. But at your sheepish little grin, she just rolled her eyes with affection.

„Merry Christmas to you too, my love.“

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 16.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content (somno, intense fingering, edging, overstimulation), soft!dom Dean, also some fluff sprinkled on top of it ♡ (Also! English is not my native language)

Summary: Dean loves to pleasure you when you’re still in your half-sleep, still dozy and all his to play with and to take care of… and this time he coaxes you into taking a little more than usual.

Words: 2,520

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: I skipped the 15th Dec. prompt, since I felt like writing this one first. I'll post the 15th later some time! On another note; I've got a new theme! Made my own lil' banner and such. Hope you like it 😳 ANYWAY

♡ ENJOY THE torturous EDGING MY LITTLE VIXENS ♡

16th Dec. - Roll Over Rule

The sound of Dean’s serene breaths make you tiptoe your way around the bed, careful not to wake him from his deep sleep. It was late, 3AM by now. You’d done some late night research in the War room with Sam, losing track of time as you often did. And you’d basically forced Dean to go to bed a few hours ago since he had stayed up the past nights.

You slowly slip under the covers and still in your movement for a moment – listening for the slow rhythm of his breath. Good, he is still asleep. And he has occupied 3/4rd of the bed as always. Your face softens as your eyes take in his peaceful state; his face pressed into the pillow, his ruffled dark blond hair still a bit damp from the midnight shower. He’s on his stomach, his body twisted in a way that almost makes you wince inwardly. And his left arm stretched out to your bedside. Waiting for you to latch onto it, as it had become a silent habit of yours.

You gently grab his arm and snuggle up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around his muscled upper arm and his forearm gets tucked nicely between your thighs. Dean stirs briefly, mumbling something before he angles his head to rest it against the top of yours. You let out a soft, content sigh, relieved that you didn’t wake him from his dreamless sleep. Soon enough you fall asleep with your limbs entangled with his arm, feeling his comforting warmth and listening to his calming breaths of a slow steady rhythm.

You don’t know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or so, when you feel Dean’s arm slightly twist in your grip. Suddenly his hand slips between your legs to cradle you there with palms up. Your mind’s still too sleepy to fully register what’s going on when a little shiver goes straight to your core. A small, almost imperceptible one. But your body acts on instinct and doesn’t need your mind for what it subconsciously craves. You suddenly let go of his arm and roll over onto your stomach – a sleeping position you usually never take. Unless, it’s meant as a green light for Dean to go on.

Yeah, you had been pretty needy lately. ‘Damn, you’re like a bitch in heat, babe.’ As Dean had commented on it shamelessly. Which not only made you sputter, but had Sam choke on his beer and Cas raise his eyebrows in confusion, secretly wondering why Dean would compare you with a female dog.

Your mind quickly slips back into that cozy sleep – whereas Dean seems to have woken up beside you. He places soft kisses along your neck, his hand gently running up and down your body, occasionally slipping beneath your pyjamas.

Next moment you remember, you feel hot and aroused. Your inner thighs are wet, your clit swollen and you’re panting slightly. And then you feel his two fingers slip inside you, effortlessly parting your slick folds. A meek moan escapes your lips, your mind still somewhere caught between sleep and excited arousal.

“You good, sweetheart..?” you hear his gravel voice next to your ear. You nod, not wanting the pleasure to stop but too sleepy to form any words.

He picks up a tantalizing pace. His small and middle finger pumping inside your dripping wet cunt while his index and middle finger slide along your folds, pinching your clit between them with every thrust. Your moans grow louder and soon turn into needy whimpers, begging him for release.

“Mh? Tell me baby…” your answer once again is a weak, short whimper. A thick haze clouding your sleep-addled mind and ridding you of any capability to form a thought, let alone words. It’s like you’ve been turned into a whimpering, mewling mess – powerless in every form. At this moment you were his entirely. Completely at his mercy. And knowing Dean, you are left with no other option but to take the overwhelming pleasure and to teeter on that torturous edge. Over. And over. And over.

Dean is truly a master in the art of edging. His calloused fingers playing you like it’s child’s play, hitting every spot at the right moment and – to your frustration – changing rhythm and withdrawing them every single time right before you get to fall over the edge. Leaving you mewling desperately, close to tears from the overwhelming built up tension in your core. You cry and pant into the pillow breathless while he starts over with the procedure, denying you the final relief with a cheeky grin of his.

Soon a third finger is jammed into your throbbing cunt. Dean and you groan in harmony when your walls clamp his fingers, pulling them in like they were made for you. He bites back another deep moan before grazing his bottom lip with his teeth. "Damn... sweetheart, you're killin' me here..."

Once he rode you through another round of edging by switching between the numbers of fingers every now and then, you quickly adjust to the new size.

When Dean notices how his fingers slide in and out so effortlessly, an idea forms in his head. He suddenly presses his lips against the shell of your ear. His voice a husky whisper, gentle and yet demanding, “Show me how deep you want it.”

You don’t even think, your body acting on its own. It’s like he’s got you under some magic spell, the relentless working of his fingers keeping you spellbound. His hand stills while you buck your hips against his hand. Further and further up, angling it while you press your chest into the mattress – the increasing tightness making you whimper and bite down on the pillow.

But to Dean’s amazement, you keep pushing against him, taking it all the way. Even when he slowly slips a fourth finger inside. He bites back another guttural groan. The feeling of you clamping his fingers and now even slowly, tentatively rocking your hips against him is almost too much for him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, despite your mindless state. You roll your hips up against him and a loud groan erupts from your throat at the intense sensation of him splitting you apart.

Dean leans a bit back to relish the view with parted lips: He’s knuckles-deep inside you. His four thick fingers stretching you to the point you feel like you might explode. He’s completely filling you, his fingertips hitting your most sensitive spot at the very end.

He lets you set the pace, only occasionally curling his fingers as he draws sounds from you which can only be describe as borderline pornographic. Every whine and mewl are rewarded with a stronger flick of his thumb over your swollen clit. Your legs are shaking and you buckle from the increased friction, the pleasure doubled with a simple continues rub against your bud.

It doesn’t take long until your legs not only tremble but start to give in and fight the mattress for some form of control. Short erratic puffs of breath burst out of your mouth and a little dribble of saliva escapes the corner of your lips. The sight alone would’ve almost sent Dean, but the sounds you made – my God your sounds of pleasure where like heaven to him.

Desperate and overwhelmed, your body starts to act on its own again; your legs kick and squirm and writhe. Your hips suddenly jerk away and your fingers dig into the sheets enough to strangle a grown man.

Dean’s eyes widen briefly, leaning down with his weight to keep you still. “Shhh-Shhh,” he coos reassuringly, but with an almost mock-innocent undertone. As if that sly bastard didn’t know that you are on the brink of breaking.

He slings his leg around one of your kicking legs, effectively holding it in a deadlock as he presses it back into the mattress. “Ah-ah-ah,” he playfully warns you with a cocky smirk, “Stay here, sweetheart… ain’t done with ya yet…” He moves his free hand up to the back of your head where he carefully threads his fingers through your hair, taking a fist full to gently tug your head back and hold you in place.

A pleading whimper leaves your lips. Begging for relief, for him to finally allow you to fall over that damn edge. You try to voice your plea for mercy but any word that’s meant to leave your lips is smushed into another pathetic, strangled noise on its way out.

“Damn… can’t even talk any more can ya, gorgeous…” Dean chuckles deeply, his rumbling chest vibrating against your back as he keeps you pinned down under his weight. You can feel the muscles of his hard calf, tense and unyielding against your trapped leg. Your thigh straining against him in vain, twitching and trembling. Your toes claw at the sheets in a desperate attempt to break free from his grip, whimpering something which he recognises as a scrambled, frustrated “please”. But he doesn’t budge, his strength effortlessly keeping you at his mercy and leaving you no chance of escaping his onslaught.

He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping an octave when he asks teasingly, “You wanna come? That it, baby? You want me to make ya come?”

Yes, yes, yes yes yes – you keep repeating the word in your head until you realize that you’re only whining more. Dean chuckles, “That a yes? Hm? What was that?”

Oh Jesus Christ he’s enjoying this way too much. This time you nod – frantically. Not taking the risk of your answer getting lost again. Your sounds are hoarse by now, your body contorting from his four fingers slowly moving inside your cunt and his thumb working your clit every now and then – not enough to let the knot in your stomach burst, but enough to keep you on the brink of it. He falls into a tantalizing pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes so deep that it makes your half-lidded eyes roll back with a pained groan.

Dean meanwhile drinks in the sight of you squirming from the pleasure he can give you, all at his mercy, making sure to not give you a single moment of catching your breath.

“Oh yeah..?” Dean lets out a low hum. He pulls your ear lobe between his teeth and gives you a little tug at your hair. You’re shaking, even your whimpering sounds are clipped, breathless and trembling, your mind numb by now. Your body overstimulated and exhausted from chasing that sweet relief for what feels like hours.

“Jesus, you’re so vocal babe… you know how hard this gets me?” He groans against the side of your face and he grinds his rock hard erection against your hip to prove his statement. After a moment, he releases the grip on your hair and moves his hand down your neck, angling his shoulders to push his arm down between your shoulder blades to keep you from wiggling away. “You’re such a good girl for me…” he says while shifting his position on top of you, “And good girls get a reward…”

Fucking finally. A long shaky exhale escapes you when his weight presses down on you, his body covering you like a heavy blanket. He supports himself by leaning up on his right elbow, always making sure not to put too much pressure on you, but enough to let you feel his strength and the power over you.

His hot, ragged breath hits your ear once more. Whispering in that gravelly and authoritative tone of his, every word punctured by a deep thrust of his fingers, “’M gonna count down from ten… and when I hit zero... I want you to come for me baby, understand?”

Lord have mercy. You nod again, although most of his words went past you and at this point you would have probably agreed to anything for that relief. With your brain melted into a useless puddle, you feel like your only driven by need and primal instincts by now.

And then, the next ten seconds feel like the most intense you have ever experienced. With every number you feel your knot tighten more, your core burning up as if it was to explode any second – but not yet, not yet —

“…seven…”

He moves his arm along your back to grab your left hand, holding it down. “…six...” His fingers intertwine with yours, while his other hand picks up its pace. “…five…” You’re suddenly arching your back, involuntarily trying to squirm away from him. But his firm chest keeps you safe beneath him, while his lips form the next number against your ear, “…four…”

Almost there. Your free knee slides along the mattress aimlessly and your other hand rips at the pillow, feeling like your body is about to snap into two. “…three…”

Determined to get you there, his calloused thumb flicks your overstimulated bud without mercy, earning himself another guttural whimper of yours, “-that’s it, let me hear ya …two…”

The sound of his low rumbling voice cuts right through your haze and a shudder shoots through your body. The anticipation’s almost killing you at this point, feeling coiled up like a spring.

“…one…” You can feel it, the wave building up and ready to crash down on you. Dean can sense you’re on the very edge too and he intends to send you over it this time. He gently bites down on your neck, muttering his final order against your skin, “…zero… come for me, sunshine.” You go tense like a bowstring and your head snaps forward to bury your face in his elbow. When, at last, the wave hits your body and the knot in your stomach finally explodes with a strangled scream of relief. Several shudders of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you twist and turn, sandwiched between the mattress and Dean’s heavy body. He lets you ride out your high, his strong muscles working to hold you close to his chest.

You pant heavily, shakily. Your mind finally clearing. Your bleary eyes fully opening for the first time, like this was all just a dream too good to be true. His voice draws your attention to his face, when he gasps. “Jesus sweetheart… it’s like a swimmin’ pool down here.”

That comment takes you so much off guard, that you break out into a surprised laughter. He grins at you before he joins with his own hearty bark of amusement, a cocky grin on his face. “I ain’t kiddin’ – I’m growin’ fins!” He holds up his drenched hand, wrinkled skin, wiggling his cum-covered fingers in front of your eyes, “Look!”

He chuckles and his widened eyes take in the mess with something like fascination and an eager lick of his lips. The corners of his smile pull up into a lazy grin when his emerald eyes meet your satisfied and dozy, half-lidded ones again. “Y’know… I think ’m gonna need to clean up that mess down there.”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 09

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: fluff, mature themes | masterlist | 08 | 10 |

❀ ❀ ❀ - indication that the chapter takes place in the past!!

a/n: this chapter takes place before chapters 7,8, and 10.

❀ ❀ ❀

Rafe was never subtle when it came to you. His hands, his lips, the way his eyes lingered on you even in a crowded room—it was like he didn’t care who noticed, as long as you felt what he couldn’t always say.

It started with a lazy summer afternoon on his boat, anchored far from shore where no one could find you. The sun was dipping low, casting the world in hues of orange and pink, and the only sound was the soft lapping of waves and the occasional squawk of a distant seagull.

You sat across from him, legs tucked beneath you, the hem of your sundress swaying in the breeze. He was leaning back against the railing, a beer in his hand, watching you with a look that made your skin flush under his gaze.

“You keep staring at me like that, Cameron, and I’m gonna start charging you,” you teased, taking a sip from your water bottle.

He smirked, setting his beer down. “Oh, I’m more than willing to pay up.”

Before you could respond, he was moving, crossing the small space between you in just a few steps. His hands were on your waist, tugging you up and into him, and then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was anything but soft. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, his hands gripping your hips like he couldn’t get close enough. You gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that left you breathless.

“Rafe,” you managed to whisper when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Hmm?” His voice was low, rough, as his hands slid up your sides, bunching your dress slightly.

“We’re supposed to be relaxing,” you teased, though your voice came out shakier than you intended.

“I am relaxed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “This is me relaxed.”

“Liar,” you said, laughing softly, but the sound turned into a soft gasp as his lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“You’re the one who’s distracting me,” he muttered against your skin, his hands now sliding down to grip your thighs, pulling you even closer. “How am I supposed to think about anything else when you’re sitting there looking like that?”

Then there were the stolen moments—like when he cornered you in the Cameron kitchen one evening, the sound of the TV drifting from the living room where Ward and Rose were watching a movie.

“Rafe,” you hissed as he pressed you against the counter, his body crowding yours. “Your dad is right there.”

“Don’t care,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Rafe—”

Whatever protest you were about to make disappeared as his mouth found yours, his hands sliding beneath your shirt to rest against your bare skin. His kiss was searing, making your knees go weak as you gripped his shoulders for balance.

“You’re insane,” you managed to gasp when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Insane about you,” he said, grinning.

These were the moments that defined your time with Rafe—the heat, the passion, the way he made you feel like you were the center of his universe. In his arms, the rest of the world faded away, and for a little while, everything was perfect.

You were stretched out on the beach blanket, the sun warming your skin, when Rafe flopped down beside you, scattering sand everywhere.

“Do you mind?” you said, glaring at him through your sunglasses.

“Not at all,” he replied smugly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. His hair was a mess, salty and windswept, and he was grinning in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

He reached over, plucking the sunglasses off your face. “You’re hiding those pretty eyes from me again, sunshine.”

“Maybe because I don’t want you staring at me all day,” you teased, trying to grab them back, but he held them out of reach.

“Too bad,” he said, leaning in closer. “Because I could look at you forever.”

“Rafe Cameron, you’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. He leaned in and kissed you—soft, slow, and sweet, the kind of kiss that made you forget the rest of the world existed.

The mornings were your favorite, though you’d never admit it to him. Especially the ones where he was already awake, sprawled out in bed beside you, his hair a mess and his face soft with sleep.

“Stop staring,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you buried your face in the pillow.

“Can’t help it,” he said, his voice still raspy. “You’re too cute when you’re drooling on the pillow.”

“I do not drool,” you shot back, glaring at him.

“Sure you don’t,” he teased, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple.

You swatted at him, but he just laughed, catching your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. “C’mon,” he said, his voice soft. “Let’s stay here all day.”

“And what, starve to death?”

“I’d die happy,” he said with a smirk, pulling you closer.

Even the quiet moments felt like magic with him. Like the time you were sprawled out on the couch together, your head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly played with your hair.

“You know you’re my favorite person, right?” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

“Obviously,” you teased, though your cheeks warmed at his words.

“I mean it,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him. “You’re everything to me.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you kissed him instead.

a/n: this takes place before any of the other angst bc i just wanted some fluff. also to @harrys-housewife i didn’t know how to reply directly to the tags on your reblogs. but thank you x1000 for always supporting my work, and leaving comments and feedback. i can’t even begin to explain how much it means to me 🥹

tags: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @marleymarleymarleymarley @acidfeens

[vero1shere]

caught in your gravity

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

word count: 961

summary: you’ve been getting harassed at work for the past few months. that is until a handsome stranger arrives one night and defends you. 

warnings: very cliche-y bartender stuff, harassment, derogatory language (slut, bitch), alcohol abuse, mild violence

a/n: so i’m back??? ik i haven’t written anything in a long time but umm here i am!!!

masterlist. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁inbox

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you wiped down the counter for the fourth time that night, scrubbing at a stubborn stain while silently cursing your job for the thousandth time. The endless mess, the sticky floors, and the clinging stench of stale alcohol on your clothes were bad enough. But the worst part? The relentless parade of truck-stop regulars: sloppy drunks who flirted too aggressively and looked at you as though you were just another item on the menu.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, trying to brush away something that had dried on the counter, when the bell rang on the other side of the bar. You looked up to see a rather attractive guy approaching the bar. It was almost one in the morning, so the place was mostly deserted aside from a few regulars. Once he was closer to the light you changed your mind; a very attractive guy.

Throwing the dirty towel over your shoulder you took a deep breath before walking over to the handsome stranger. “What can I serve you?” You smiled, leaning on the bar. He looked down at you and you felt the air catch in your lungs. He had the most amazing green eyes. You were used to seeing new faces every day, but none like his. He smiled, seemingly checking you out as his eyes traveled through your face, answering the question. 

“Just a beer, please” he replied, his voice deep and rough, like a low roll of thunder.

It wasn’t just his voice that threw you off. The way he looked at you, his gaze lingering as though he saw more than just a tired bartender, made your cheeks warm. Why was someone like him in a place like this at nearly 1 am? 

“Coming right out” you responded, almost breathlessly. You were hyper-aware of his presence, the way his gaze followed you as you moved. Diverting your attention from that beautiful stranger, you served him the beer. Still smiling like an idiot. Your hands trembled slightly as you set the beer down in front of him, and when your eyes met his again, he smiled. A small, crooked smile that made your stomach flutter.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice softer this time, like he didn’t want to break the moment.

Before you could respond, a voice you knew all too well cut through the quiet.

“Hello darling,” Sighing and closing your eyes, you walked up to the drunk guy who was here seven days a week, flirting constantly with you. “What do you want, Carl?” you asked, your voice sharp.

“Wow, I don't think that's the way to talk to your best client,” he growled drunkenly. His breath reeked of bourbon, or maybe whiskey. You honestly couldn't tell, not that you cared.

“Are you going to order something else or are you finally going to get your ass out of here?” You exploded, not having the energy for this.

“I've always liked my women feisty”, he winked at you and a shiver of disgust passed through you. “What would it take for you to go out on a date with me?”

“‘M sorry, but for the thousandth time, I’m not really interested. Now please excuse me, but I need to get back to work,” walking to the idiot's left to clear another table, he grabbed your wrist. It was quite a rough grab and you knew it would leave a mark. You were whipped to face him and tried to hide the fact that you were terrified. He was drunk, strong and almost a foot taller than you.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just go out with me, I mean, you’re just a sleazy bar slut and it’s not like many other people want you” Carl growled, not looking away from your eyes. You tried to appear tough but the situation was getting scary. That’s when someone stepped in the middle of you too, breaking his hold on your wrist. 

“Why don't you do us all a favor, apologise to the lady and get your ass out of here?” A deep voice said calmly. You recognized the voice, but you weren't sure who the person was until you looked over to where the green-eyed stranger was sitting. He was gone, well he wasn't gone, he was defending you. 

Carl scoffed. “Yeah, like I owe any of you anything. A bitch and an idiot who’s fighting with someone on one foot-” he didn't get to finish. He was interrupted by the attractive stranger twisting the drunk’s arm, which resulted in a scream from the victim. He jerked his arm away and ran out of the bar.

You found yourself laughing after he left. After a few months, someone finally got that idiot to leave. Speaking of which, you finally got a better look at the stranger as he turned around, still quite close to you. The light nape of the neck that covers a sharp jaw, the perfect smile hidden behind full lips. Not to mention the eyes. Oh my god, those eyes made you melt.

“Are you alright?" he asked, much less intimidating. You realized he was looking at you and instinctively looked at the ground. 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Thank you,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks flush. Then, he gently grabbed your wrist, which was already forming a bruise, and ran his fingers over your skin. Every second you were in contact with him, sparks broke out on your skin. You both looked at each other, staring into each other's eyes. Losing yourself in his eyes once again, you were glad he spoke.

“Dean,” he said breathlessly. “That’s my name,” he added after seeing the confusion in your eyes. “What’s yours?”

[lvrslvt3]

FAMOUS BOYFRIEND | c.dixon

main masterlist | youtuber masterlist

౨ৎ pairings: chris dixon x fem!reader

౨ৎ summary : reader deals with anxiety struggles with having a boyfriend in the spotlight

౨ৎ warnings : panic attack, alcohol

౨ৎ notes : this is so bad but i need to get back into the routine of posting !!

“i don’t have to-“

“it will only be for five minutes,” you squeezed your boyfriend’s hand, “i’m sure I’ll learn to survive.” you joked to try and hide how anxious you were feeling, letting chris stare at you for a few seconds before he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I won’t be long.” he promised, squeezing your hand one last time before turning to his group of friends that were being swarmed by fans in the small pub. the herd moving towards them jostled you around, knocking the wind from you slightly.

you turned and started to fight your way through the crowd, the sweat beginning to prickle on ur back. you had been anxious since you woke up, it was just one of those days, but you were determined that it wouldn’t ruin your day. even though all day, you had been pushed to your limits.

right now, you just wanted to get home.

just as you got to the door, and almost out of the crowd, a group of men barged right by you. you stumbled to the wall, hitting your hip against a table. you hissed, and tears began to form as you turned to the pair at the table and apologised yet only received dirty looks in advance.

“y/n?” a female voice called out, and you sighed in relief at the sight of becky. “are you okay?” the question made everything suddenly bubble up. with your best effort you choked it back down and simply shook your head and exited the pub, not caring who you barged by.

soon as you were out you leaned against the wall, crouching down and putting ur head in ur hands. you needed to get a grip. your boyfriend and his friends would be coming out any second and they couldn’t see you looking like this. “hey, hey, hey. look at me.”

you felt a comforting arm around you and you looked up at becky, who smelled of beer and perfume. “what’s wrong, sweetie?” she rubbed your back and you opened your mouth, but with the slight quiver of ur chin you quickly shut it up. she stood you up so she could give you a proper hug, hiding your face from the door so no one would see you.

you took deep breaths in, smelling her perfume and the fresh air and finally managing to calm your nerves again. “sorry, i swear I’m like mentally stable I just can’t with all of-“ you waved your hand to the pub to finish your sentence, “it just all bubbled up a bit there.”

the woman nodded, pulling away and holding ur hand. “anxiety?” she questioned, and you looked away from the pub to her. you almost lied but with the slight tightening she gave ur hand u nodded. “do you want me to get chris?”

“no, I’m fine, honestly. let him finish up.” you lifted ur head, trying to let your eyes dry by slightly rubbing them with ur finger to try and not smear ur makeup. “so, does it look like I just almost had a nervous breakdown in a pub?”

becky laughed, and you smiled a little as the tension eased down in your body a little. “only a little, but no one will notice. you just look a little tipsy.” she smiled at you, “i’m gonna go see where chris is,” she put a finger up before u could interrupt, “you’re not gonna burden him. now, do u wanna come inside or wait here?”

you waited a moment, sniffled then accepted your fait. “I’ll wait out here.” you mumbled, smiling a little once she turned and headed back into the noisy pub. you sighed and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping that you never bothered chris and at the same time thanking becky for being your saviour.

“babe?” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, an arm coming around your shoulders to lean you into his chestas you moved transfixed gaze from the road to the familiar blonde that was studying your face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“never mind that,” he quickly interrupted, pulling off his jacket and putting it around you. “are you okay?” he questioned. you didn’t answer, the quivering lip did it all for you. you didn’t wanna break down here, but the look he gave you made it almost un preventable “do you want to talk about it now or wait till we’re home?”

“home.”

chris nodded, “the taxi i called before should be here any minute. becky said that she loves you and message her tomorow or call.” he rubbed your arm, afraid to let you go again. you nodded, still too afraid to speak.

“y/n!” a male voice cheered as your friends came out of the pub, “you dissapeared.” arthur hill commented, then stumbled back and almost lost his footing. you giggled, leaning further into your boyfriends chest as you tried to hide the slight quiver from the heavy feeling in your chest.

george caught him, luckily, just as your taxi approached. “okay, who’s coming home?” chris questioned as half the group had already started walking away, on to the next pub. “i think i need a nightcap.” arthur grabbed george, “goodnight lovebirds!”

the man walked away in a fit of giggles, finding the joke funnier than it was. you shock your head, a small smile on your face. “stay safe, if you guys need anything I’ll stay up for you lot.” you called out as chris opened the door for you, keeping a hand on ur back as u waved to his friends before sliding into the back seat.

you laid your head on chris’s shoulder while he placed a firm hand on your thigh, lazily stroking it with his thumb as he made small talk with the driver on the way to your flat. every so often he would place a faint kiss on the side of ur head, and you had to fight the tears threatening to spill out.

— — —

the flat door locked behind chris, and it was if all those deep breaths had been for nothing because with the safety net of ur boyfriend, you felt everything rising up again. “I’m gonna go get water out for the boys.” you muttered, but chris quickly intervened.

“I’ll do it, just go and get something comfy on and I’ll be in a second.” he placed a kiss on ur forehead again, turning into the kitchen and grabbing some water, medicine and a quick snack they could have before bed to hopefully sober them up a bit.

you hummed, too tired to let out any more noise as you trudged along to his room. you quickly threw ur nice clothes into the hamper and put on a pair of ur shorts and one of chris’s hoodies. you then brushed and messily braided ur hair, and by the time you finished it off with a hair tie chris had came back.

“you ready to talk yet, darling?” he placed two hands on ur waist, and you sighed while letting your hands drop, leaning into him as if you were dead weight. he held you up as you wrapped your arms around him.

“what’s got you so upset?” he asked and finally, it all came crashing down. you began to cry as you mumbled out an explanation, all while he rubbed ur back and hummed as if he understood you’re jumbled up sentences.

eventually he pulled away, guiding you to sit down on the bed. “it’s okay, babe. i’m here, okay?” he wiped the tears from under your eyes, placing a firm kiss on your head once again before pulling away. “take a deep breath, then tell me what’s wrong.”

you nodded, inhaling and exhaling before finally starting again. “it just all got too much, its like I woke up with a weight on my chest and it just built up and built up and now i feel like im drowning and i can’t save myself.” the explanation was dramatic, but it was the best way to describe how you felt.

“sometimes the crowds, and the fans just push me over the edge.” you finally admitted, casting your eyes down as if you had disappointed him. chris frowned, “i’m so—“

“no.” you quickly cut him off, “don’t apologise for your success. it’s not your fault, it’s not anybody’s.” you rationalised, “but it’s just sometimes that contributes to my anxiety, but so does breathing so don’t blame yourself for that.”

chris smiled a little, “i was gonna apologise for not noticing sooner. i would never apologise for that, I mean look at this charming smile, how could i not be famous?” he placed a hand on his face as he gave a toothy smile, and you giggled at the stupid action.

“look, i’m glad you told me eventually but you know that you can tell me anything, anytime, anywhere, okay? you’re my number one priority.” he grabbed ur hand, and you nodded. “nothing will ever come in the way of that.”

you let our a sigh of relief, wiping your eyes again and nodding. chris stood up while continuing to talk, “you’re never gonna be a burden to me,” he added on as he grabbed your makeup wipes and began to wipe ur face, gently just as you had showed him before.

“except that one time you got your period on valentines, that was a burde—“ chris’s bad joke was interrupted by you smacking his chest, a laughing erupting from him which made you giggle and shake your head. “only joking, lovely.”

he grinned at the sight of you cheering up, finishing up taking off your makeup then putting the wipes in the bin. “now, why don’t we watch a movie while we wait on our idiot roommates to come home?”

[devildomwriter]

You Go To See A Christmas Carol Part IV

It’s intermission and it’s not going quietly, if anything it’s getting much worse even with the cops gone.

Mammon: “…”

Satan: “You’re awfully quiet Mammon…”

Mammon: “Do you guys think I love money more than people?”

Everyone: “Yes.”

Mammon: “…”

Mammon: “Ya don’t think a ghost’ll come after me though right?”

Solomon: “I can arrange it.”

Lucifer: “So can I.”

Diavolo: “That sounds like great fun.”

Mammon: “Hell no, don’t you dare! Some ghost ain’t gonna teach me a lesson or make me cry dammit!”

Belphegor: “Then why were you wiping away tears when Belle left, huh?”

Luke: “Wow Belphie you actually stayed awake?”

Belphegor: “I enjoy watching Mammon’s future play out in front of him.”

Diavolo: “Hahahaha.”

MC: “Well, I think I need a drink, where was that bar?”

Lucifer: “I’ll show you.”

MC: “Can you walk there?”

Lucifer: “I only had two beers, that’s water to me.”

MC: “If you say so.”

Diavolo: “Perhaps I’ll get a drink too.”

Barbatos: “I can fetch it for you Young Master.”

Diavolo: “Thank you Barbatos.”

Solomon: “So…”

Diavolo: “…”

Solomon: “Are we gonna prank Mammon later?”

Diavolo: “Message me.”

Solomon: “Right.”

Mammon: “You guys are being suspicious!”

Asmodeus: “I’m back! What did I miss!”

Everyone: “Asmo!”

Asmodeus: “Hey guys! I could hear most of the play, that Scrooge guy is a lot like Mammon, yeah?”

Satan: “Sadly the resemblance is so uncanny I cannot separate the two in my mind anymore. You ruined a Christmas Carol for me Mammon!”

Mammon: “What the hell did I do?”

Simeon: “Well there’s still the ending, right Satan? And I’m sure Mammon won’t be so much like the character then?”

Mammon: “Huh? Does something happen to Scrooge?”

Simeon: “I’m not going to spoil anything for you.”

Mammon: “So…Asmo. What were you up to?”

Asmodeus: “More like who was I in to?”

Simeon: “Luke let’s get some popcorn.”

Diavolo: “I think I’ll go find Barbatos.”

Belphegor: “Beelzebub let’s get some refills.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Solomon: “You know I think I’d like to hear this story too.”

Asmodeus: “Ugh, they’re all such prudes! But not you Solomon.”

Solomon: “I don’t know if that’s a compliment…”

Asmodeus: “Yeah so anyway I just charmed the cops so they thought everything was fine. They were kinda confused about why they were there to begin with but they got one look at me and that’s all they needed!”

Solomon: “You didn’t charm them, right?”

Asmodeus: “Into having sex?”

Asmodeus: “Hell no. I’m not into that dubious consent stuff, not unless it’s roleplay.”

Solomon: “Well that’s all I need to know. Where are they now?”

Asmodeus: “I sent them on their way. Told them they need a vacation from all this mess.”

Solomon: “Well they’re probably not even in the city anymore if you told them to leave…”

Asmodeus: “Aren’t I so kind! I’m even sending people on vacations!”

Solomon: “Sure…”

Mammon: “Hey Asmo? Didn’t ya have some fancy necklace on earlier?”

Asmodeus: “My Devicci? What! Where is it!? Mammon you didn’t take it did you!”

Mammon: “No! I was gonna though that’s why I noticed!”

Asmodeus: “Ugh! I probably dropped it in that room! Mammon come help me find it.”

Mammon: “Why me!?”

Asmodeus: “As punishment for trying to steal it!”

Mammon: “Fine.”

MC: “Oh, hey Asmo. Where are you going?”

Asmodeus: “My necklace!”

MC: “What!?”

Mammon: “His necklace!”

MC: “…okay then. I think I’ll get a second beer in case…”

Lucifer: “You’re a lightweight we’ll start you small. You’re in front of Diavolo and Luke remember?”

MC: “Right. Can’t embarrass myself in front of him, that’d be a nightmare. You’re used to it though so you can have my beer instead.”

Lucifer: “Hold on a minute?”

MC: “The lights are blinking we need to head back.”

Solomon: “Welcome back you two.”

MC: “Where did everyone else go?”

Solomon: “They weren’t interested in hearing about Asmo’s escapades.”

MC: “Oh. So are the cops gone?”

Solomon: “They are somewhere.”

MC: “Not here though?”

Solomon: “Not those two, no.”

MC: “Okay good. I didn’t see any on the way to the drinks either.”

Solomon: “I see. It must’ve calmed down then.”

Lucifer: “Finally. I don’t want to have to deal with anything else tonight, that fiasco earlier was enough.”

MC: “Yeah. They really thought Levi was trying to trap me too.”

Lucifer: “Hehe, Levi?”

MC: “The officer guy out front was really worried about me, I didn’t mean to scare him. He gave me a line to call if I needed help, Levi took the card to look up what it was and now he’s suspicious. …Where did he go anyway?”

Leviathan: “I’ve been here the entire time, how could you not notice me?”

MC: “What? You didn’t leave when Asmo was talking about…stuff?”

Leviathan: “Did he say something weird? I had my headphones on.”

MC: “Nope…”

MC: “Okay, so everyone’s here except for Mammon and Asmodeus…”

Luke: “No! Mammon has to see the end of the play! It’s really important.”

MC: “Luke I hate to break it to you but this play isn’t gonna set him straight.”

Luke: “Aww.”

Satan: “It was getting to him though.”

MC: “We can show him the movie.”

Luke: “There’s a movie?”

MC: “Yeah, we can watch it together later if you want.”

Luke: “Yeah!”

The countdown projected onto the curtains stopped and the theatre went dark. Murmurs turned to whispers and all was quiet as the story resumed.

Meanwhile, downstairs Asmo and Mammon were scrambling.

Mammon: “It’s stupid dark down here.”

Asmodeus: “Ugh I know! We have nocturnal vision why is it still so dark!?”

Mammon: “Do we have nocturnal vision? Did we ever get that…?”

Asmodeus: “Umm, I think we do?”

Mammon: “What is this place anyway? Buncha giant—aaaaah!”

MC: “Did you guys hear a scream just now?”

Lucifer: “…”

MC: “Never mind.”

[The Ghost of Christmas Present shows Scrooge his assistant spending time with his family and crippled young son, Tiny Tim. Even Scrooge’s heart is warmed by the young boy.]

[He is then zipped to his nephew’s Christmas party. The bright home is full of giant presents and fancifully dressed guests and Scrooge begs to stay. As the day continues the ghost begins to age.]

Luke: “Ew, how did they do that with his face?”

Simeon: “Makeup?”

Satan: “I think it’s a trick of the light?”

MC: “He looks like he’s melting. Solomon, you’re so far past that stage of life.”

Solomon: “Haha, you have no proof.”

Asmodeus: “Mammon you gave me a heart attack!”

Mammon: “Th-Th-That thing…”

Asmodeus: “Huh? Ooooh, it’s the Grim Reaper, looks like a giant costume that someone stands in like a puppet! How neat!”

Mammon: “Wait? Are we in the prop room?”

Sounds of squeaking wheels echo in the room as something large is being moved.

Staff A: “Get the reaper prop ready! And dim the lights just a little, we don’t want the audience to see anything!”

Staff B: “On it! Casey come help me with this thing.”

Mammon: “Shit! Hide!”

Asmodeus: “Shh! Be quiet! What are we supposed to hide in, they’re gonna turn the lights back on.”

Mammon: “This thing, there’s a door!”

Asmodeus: “Hurry, hurry!”

Staff B: “Did you hear something?”

Staff C: “Maybe it was a ghost?”

Mammon: “G-ghost?”

Asmodeus: “I cannot believe you’re my brother, they’re talking about us, dimwit.”

[The ghost of Christmas present reveals two small deformed children, Want and Ignorance.]

MC: “Damn he just defined my whole generation.”

[The ghost laughs as he dies and fades into nothing.]

MC: “Yeah, that’s still really accurate to my generation…”

Luke: “That was amazing!”

Beelzebub: “That’s pretty sad…”

Simeon: “You have such a kind heart Beelzebub.”

Beelzebub: “He was so big. Like jelly.”

Luke: “Huh? Did you think he looked tasty!?”

[As the second ghost disappears Scrooge recoils as the third ghost confronts him looking like a grim reaper.]

[Scrooge is taken by the Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Come through several scenes of people talking about and celebrating a man’s death.]

[Two men discuss the riches he left behind.]

[Others trade and sell the man’s things.]

[A couple rejoices that their cruel creditor is dead.]

[Scrooge begs to know the name of the dead man and is faced with his own gravestone. Scrooge pleads for his fate to be changed and promises to renounce his greedy, uncaring ways and finds himself back in his bed Christmas morning.]

Luke looked relieved unsure how this was going to play out and Diavolo smiled at the turn of events despite having seen this play before.

You grinned and held his hand choosing to relax but that was quickly changed.

Staff B: “This box is a lot heavier than I remember?”

Staff C: “Didn’t they put the toys in here or some kinda confetti canon?”

Staff B: “Oh yeah.”

Mammon: “…”

Asmodeus: “…Mammon.”

Mammon: “Yep…we’re dead.”

[Scrooge attends his Nephew’s party full of giant gifts and is welcomed inside.]

Scrooge: “I’m here… If you’ll have me.”

Nephew: “Uncle! I told them you would come!”

Nephew: “Come in! Come in! Martha the present!”

[The present burst open with confetti and a loud scream.]

Lucifer: “…”

Diavolo: “…”

Satan: “…”

Barbatos: “…”

Solomon: “…”

Simeon: “…”

Belphegor: “…”

Beelzebub: *munch* *munch*

Leviathan: “…”

Luke: “Huh!?”

Mammon: “…”

Asmodeus: “…”

Actors: “…”

Lucifer: “Hehe…hehehehe…”

Diavolo: “Oh dear.”

MC: “Umm…Lucifer…”

Solomon: “Where do you suppose he’s going.”

Diavolo: “…This isn’t going to go well…”

Mammon: “What do we do?”

Asmodeus: “Start singing?”

Without prompt, Mammon and Asmo begin trying to sing a carol in unison.

Nephew: “My it appears a few of my guests had a bit too much to drink.”

Scrooge: “You see them too?”

Nephew: “Why of course? You didn’t think you were seeing things now did you uncle? Besides I need not see them, it’s impossible to not hear such a ratchety sound.”

Mammon: “Ratchedy!? I’ll show you!”

Asmodeus: “Sweetie you were so off-tune, calm down!”

Scrooge: “Who’s that at the door?”

Nephew: “My, I don’t believe we’re expecting more guests. Perhaps carolers have graced our manor today to make up for this awful intrusion.”

Diavolo: “…”

Belphegor: “…”

Barbatos: “…”

MC: “Yep, he’s drunk.”

Dressed in the style of the cast, something he no doubt stole from another unfortunate actor lucifer walked into the scene like he belonged there.

Lucifer: “Pardon me good sirs I’ve come to collect a few uninvited guests I believe they mixed up the addresses on the invitations I sent out.”

Nephew: “Yes, please do collect your friends, I’m afraid they’re in quite the state given how horribly they’re dressed.”

Asmodeus: *gasp* “You did not just say that to me!”

Mammon: “Here we go.”

Asmodeus: “I AM fashion! You filthy peasants should be honored to lay your eyes upon me.”

Mammon: “On three?”

Lucifer: “Up you go!”

Asmodeus: “Hey don’t you dare carry me away like some drunk! I don’t care who these people are pretending to be they do not get to critique my style when they’re dressed like British hobos from the 16th century! I would know! I was there!”

The audience claps as Lucifer and Mammon carry Asmodeus off stage.

Previous • Next

[solarsturniolo]

wait i wanna hear about this frat boy 🫣

@zebonos GIRLLLL WHERE DO I EVEN START 😭😭

1. all of my friends say he’s ugly (he’s 6’3’’ sue me)

2. he snores SO LOUD

3. he punches and talks in his sleep

4. he has a cocaine addiction

5. he’s a bouncer at a bar that i’m a regular at

6. his head is too small and his eyes are uneven

7. he gets mad and insecure about my attraction to vinnie hacker

8. he is HORRIBLE at communicating (which was the ONE requirement i had when i agreed to let my friend set us up together. I said idc what he looks like, idc if he’s just wanting to fuck, he HAS to be good at communicating)

9. our second time together he marked me with hickies, begged me to stay the night, kissed me on my forehead, told me he wanted a future w me, etc

10. our 4th time together (we were awake for two hours mind you) he said he wanted to marry me 3 times, wanted to have kids with me 2 times, said i love you 4 times, planned what our engagement rings would look like, etc)

11. i ended up fucking his roommate and he had a talk with me about it. (“yeah…he’s a good guy, so much better than i could ever be for you…but whose bed are you in right now?”)

12. held my favorite pair of earrings hostage for a month

13. he does not like when i unadd him on snapchat and will ask ALL of my friends why im mad at him when ive told him i hate using snapchat for communicating bc its cancer.

14. he does not sleep in the dark

15. fucked a girl with an std

16. tried to get with me without telling me he fucked a girl with an std

17. tried to LIE about fucking a girl with an std

18. insane alcoholic. i watched him crush a 24 case of beer in two hours

19. doesn’t acknowledge me unless i’m actively ignoring him

20. he will STARE AT ME AND FOLLOW ME AROUND THE BAR ALL NIGHT if we are there at the same time (my friends have WITNESSED THIS HAPPENING) (( @megamett44-lover ))

21. will text me at 3:00-5:00 in the morning saying he needs to talk about stuff but i’m obviously ASLEEP

22. has not taken me on a proper date. (but he will buy my drinks and offers to buy me food if we go to cookout or mcdonald’s so i guess i can’t complain)

23. sleeps with socks on

24. hogs the blanket

25. doesn’t take out his trash and lets it pile up in his room

26. he has an awful haircut

27. left me alone immediately after sex for 23 minutes to go watch his roommate get his head shaved (no aftercare) and then was confused why i wouldn’t speak to him

28. did i mention he snores? did i also mention i get MAYBE an hour of sleep if i spend the night because its so bad??

29. tries to convince me not to make him use a condom

30. threw a fit one time bc a vinnie hacker edit came up on my phone so, in retaliation, he decided to look at thirst traps and sexual audios on tiktok for half an hour. i told him it was making me uncomfortable and told him to stop about six times and he only did when i threatened to leave.

31. would call me princess after i specifically told him NOT to do that.

32. beer pong with a bunch of his frat brothers is apparently a ‘date’ in his eyes…

33. didn’t acknowledge me at a party we were both attending until his buddy basically told him i wasn’t gonna keep pursuing him lmao

34. got so shit faced at the bar that he kept telling his frat brothers “isn’t she so pretty” “god im with the prettiest girl in (insert city name) right now” “im about to post her on my story” “should i buy her flowers” and i was so uncomfortable that i almost left the bar. (i had told him i wasn’t looking for anything serious and that pda made me uncomfortable)

35. he deadass chugged nyquil in front of me “to help him sleep”

36. has roaches in his bathroom (frat house)

37. refuses to smoke weed but will do 6 lines easy peasy???

38. not smart

39. thinks he can manipulate me (he can’t and it drives him crazy that i don’t fall for it)

40. asked me to find someone (female) to have a threesome with us (every inquiry made the same face before saying “no thanks”)

41. He hyper sexualizes my attraction to women

42. asked me if i’d block every guy in my phone for him (we had been talking for two weeks)

43. he’s an asshole to his dog and calls him mean names and hits his snout and shoves him around

44. he is persistent on trying to get me to blow him (i don’t do blowjobs. he knows this. still tries.)

45. he blew $160 gambling at the bar the night we went out 💀

46. he’s younger than me and extremely immature

47. he thinks listening to chief keef is an unheard of personality trait. (“i know all of the lyrics to Love Sosa” okay, so do 9 million other people)

Dude i could go on and on about this mf he’s WEIRD.

[ineedpaigebuckets]

I have a request, maybe you can make it a short series 😭 I also had to ask chat gpt to organize it cause I can’t write for shit.

This is what I wrote on my notes app, but I’m going to put the organized version chat gpt gave me as well in another ask.

Anyway, pazzi!

Au pazzi fic where paige and azzi meet bc az family moves to MN and azzi is transferred to Hopkins HS, she meets paige there on the team but she has a gf on the cheerleading team.

They don’t get along at first bc azzi meets a guy her first day there who’s been trying to get with her, azzi likes him back, but what she doesn’t know is that this guy used to make derogatory remarks about paige (homophobia maybe or something else idk) and so paige thinks azzi knew that and still went out of her way to date him, now she thinks she’s straight and homophobic.

Azzi does think she’s straight, and really likes this guy she’s met but as time passes she gets uncomfortable with some things he says or his friends say. She thinks it’s because she knows there’s a lot of queer people in the wbb community, but deep down she worries it might be something else. She lets this comments slide or even laughs (anxiously) along with everyone else to feel “normal” but it feels wrong.

Paige overhears some of this things and it only makes her more mad at azzi, she’s found out they work incredibly well together on the court, insane chemistry, and thinks she can maybe get to know her, but after that she’s just upset about it, about her, she’s heard it before, from other people, from this group, but doesn’t know why she’s letting it hit her so hard when azzi does it.

Some people throw a house party and everyone’s going, the athletes, cheerleaders, azzi’s bf group, etc. Everyone’s drinking, paige is with her gf and some girls on the team and azzi’s with her bf and his friends playing beer pong. Paige and her gf have an argument over paige not stepping up to azzi but paige defends herself saying she can’t let outside conflicts affect the team and their game. Truth is they’ve been having relationship issues since before azzi moved to MN, but Paige’s gf always seemed to be back, this time, paige knew she was probably right, but she didn’t care, she was tired. They break up.

Azzi heard a bit of their argument before they went outside (she didn’t hear when they were talking about her). She felt a little bad, even though she didn’t have a good relationship with paige, nevertheless it was none of her business, until a friend of her bf saw paige come in alone and a little frustrated and said “ooh the dykes broke up again” and azzi’s bf and other friends laughed, this time, azzi wasn’t about to let it slide, maybe it was the liquor courage but she threw her cup of vodka at the guy who made the comment and then looked at her boyfriend and said “control your fucking dog” “if I hear any other bs about anyone on my team, we’re done”.

She then leaves not caring the guy who she got her drink spilled on was calling her a bitch between other insults. She goes to one of the rooms upstairs and lays down on the bed, pondering. Paige, after seeing that scene, goes looking for azzi, not even knowing why, it was none of her business, maybe it was the alcohol in her system. She finds the room azzi is in but not knowing what she was there do in the first place, tries to start an argument with her, azzi defends herself saying she just stood up for her, paige says that she didn’t before and that she was full of shit. They’re both heated and drunk, azzi’s out of words, she knows paige has a right to be angry and she doesn’t know what comes over her, but she starts crying. Paige feels bad and goes over to her, azzi apologizes, and they stay quiet while paige holds azzi for a minute. Paige doesn’t know what comes over her now, but she asks azzi to break up with her boyfriend.

Azzi is taken aback by the request, she knows it’s probably for the best but she doesn’t know why paige sounds like it’s more for her than it is for the sake of the team, etc. Still, azzi locks eyes with paige and tells her she will, if that is he isn’t with some other girl already, they laugh, then they stare at each other quietly. Azzi starts getting nervous and she says they should head back down, but paige grabs her hand and gives her a kiss on her cheek, azzi stares shocked, but it’s only right to do the same, right? She tries to kiss her cheek back but paige moves and they share a kiss on the lips. Azzi is embarrassed and immediately apologizes, but paige grabs her and they start making out, azzi pulls away after a while and says ���I’m not gay, just drunk”.

Paige is shocked even though she should have expected this but says “ofc you are, way to ruin the moment”. They don’t know if it’s because they’re drunk but neither of them can get away, like they’re frozen, so they go at it again, until there’s a knock on the door, someone trying to go in but thank god it’s locked. They pretend azzi was throwing up in the bathroom inside the bedroom, and then go back to the party without saying another word to each other. Azzi finds her boyfriend cuddled up with another girl, they exchange words and break up, then she turns around to leave, until she sees paige go past by her and punches azzi’s now ex boyfriend. She’s pulled back by azzi and some other people around them.

Azzi drags Paige outside and argue a little about how azzi had it handled and didn’t need to be saved, paige says it was for herself and all the times he had something to say about her before, but being honest they both didn’t believe that. Paige gets frustrated and says the real reason azzi’s so bothered by this is because of what happened upstairs, they argue some more and then part ways, they’re back to square one.

Idk where to go from there, just very angsty, good ending though pls lol 😞

oh my god i love you!!! i WILL be writing this whenever i can trust me it will be a multi part series of you wanna dm me PLEASE i'll give you credit and like i literally love you 🤩

[presidenthades]

At long last: behind-the-scenes commentary for Lavender’s Blue Chapter 1.

Usual disclaimer that these thoughts aren’t necessarily canonical to the fic verse until/unless I write them into the actual story.

Lavender is a recursive fanfic for my own AU fanfic, so I truly, honestly didn’t think it would be as popular as it is. Two years ago, I would’ve said that an Aemond fic (like Compromise) would’ve been way more popular than any Aegon fic, but life is full of surprises. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Chapter titles are quotes from Westerosi wedding ceremonies performed under the Faith of the Seven (both book and show verse).

The fic was originally supposed to be a short threeshot. As you can see, it’s a full-ass story at 8 chapters and 80k words. 🤡 When I wrote the first chapter, I wasn’t planning on the moon tea scheme, Dorne arc, or prophecy-mad Vizzy T storyline. The fic was just supposed to be Jace and Aegon figuring out an arranged marriage when they don’t know each other. But then I started writing Chapter 2 and I decided I needed plot. 😂

We start the fic with Aegon in his pre-Jace state: a medieval frat bro who just wants to chug beer and sleep around. At first sight, he embodies the “useless heir who’ll probably run his inheritance into the ground” trope. But I try to make it evident fairly quickly that Aegon has a profound depth of emotions, and he shouldn’t be written off just yet.

Back when the fic was supposed to be a threeshot all in Aegon’s POV, Myranda had a different role. Aegon would be teased for falling in love with Jace, and he would try to prove them wrong by going back to Myranda at the brothel. But at the last minute he realizes he can’t go through with it, Myranda gets catty about Jace, he says something like “yeah you’re pretty but not as pretty as my wife,” and Myranda throws him out. The final draft turned out very different, but this alternate story would’ve been kinda funny.

When I imagine pregnant Rhaenyra and pregnant Alicent having a huge fight, I also imagine fetus!Jace and fetus!Aemond being very confused about all the clamor they can hear in the womb.

Aegon acts like he hates the idea of the betrothal, but he definitely keeps that portrait of Jace in his room and looks at it every so often. Now I’m thinking of another AU where Aegon goes to Driftmark to see if Jace is as pretty as everyone says, and maximum chaos ensues because he decides marriage isn’t so bad actually, so they should just marry ASAP.

The Velargirls get the title “princess” solely because Viserys is desperately trying to win back Rhaenyra’s favor. (It doesn’t work, of course.)

Alicent is projecting a lot onto Jace, which is one of the reasons she tries so hard to be nice to Jace. Young Alicent in S1 felt very isolated in her early days as queen, so now she frets that Jace will feel the same. This universe’s Alicent never had her green dress moment, and she doesn’t defy Viserys like she does in S1E6. Here, she tries to exert her influence over Aegon to ensure that at least one other girl (Jace) might be spared some kindness from her husband. This conversation, plus Aegon’s core memory of the aftermath of Alicent’s marital rape, have a big impact on the way he treats Jace.

Otto is keenly aware of the Velaryons’ many dragons, ships, and wealth. In this universe, he prioritizes making the Velaryons happy, because he really doesn’t want the dragons on Driftmark turning against the Crown.

If Jace weren’t betrothed to Aegon from the moment she was born, she would’ve been raised as the heir to Driftmark rather than as a future queen. She can’t be both because, like I mentioned in Compromise, Corlys wants the ruler of Driftmark to always make their seat a priority. Yet another interesting AU idea: Jace is raised as heir to Driftmark, but she can’t keep her status as heir if she marries Aegon. 🤔

In F&B, Viserys is the one who betroths Aegon and Helaena so they can’t marry other houses and gather support against Rhaenyra. Viserys almost does that in this AU before Otto talks him out of it.

Helaena’s quip about Aegon smiling is because she knows he’s about to smile so hard that his face hurts. ☀️

The Green kids get a more functional relationship with their mother in this universe. Alicent isn’t worried about securing Aegon as heir or protecting them from Rhaenyra/Daemon. As a result, she’s much more present in her kids’ lives.

Baela and Rhaena have been absorbed into the Velaryon clan because Daemon ditched them. 💀 He originally planned to take them back to Penrose (like he mentions in S1E7), but he saw how much they were thriving with their extended family. So he allowed the twins to stay on Driftmark—but he left because he didn’t see a place for himself in the Seven Kingdoms anymore. 😔

There is NO WAY Jace is making her debut at court in riding leathers, with messy hair and the stench of dragon. Just picture her and the other girls in the wheelhouse on the way to the Red Keep, frantically changing clothes and brushing hair and spraying perfume. 😂

Aegon: “everyone lies at court.” Aegon 5 seconds later: “nice to see you again, Rhaenyra!”

It would be fun to see 12yo Aemond’s adventure sneaking out of the castle, hitchhiking to Crackclaw Point, and claiming Vhagar. Damn, I need to stop giving myself ideas.

Aegon and Daemon have similar reactions to Joff’s name. Truly, they would get along so well in another life.

Aemond fell into horny at first sight. 😌 Also I love his and Aegon’s brotherly telepathy.

Jace isn’t a military person, but she knows how to go on a strategic offensive. Her goal is to make Aegon like her, so she starts off on the right foot by dressing in Sunfyre’s colors.

Aegon was told to stop doing frivolous things, like draw and play the lute, because those aren’t useful talents for a king. 😞

“I don’t believe you’ve met.” Viserys actually cannot remember if Aegon has met Jace. 💀

Jace is honestly happy to meet Aegon. Alicent made sure he cleaned up well, so he’s looking very dapper.

Jace did her homework for the tourney. She memorized sigils, names, and family trees so she could make a good first impression on all the lords and ladies. Aegon could never. (Good thing he’s marrying her.)

Because Jace has heard rumors about Aegon’s profligacy, she tries to prevent him from drinking too much and potentially causing a scene. The questions she distracts him with are carefully chosen to a) be questions he can answer intelligently and b) help her get to know her husband a bit. She can multitask! And in the end, Aegon is so intrigued by his wife-to-be that he loses interest in drinking. Wins all around.

Aegon notices that he can never catch Jace alone. We learn from her POV this is intentional because she’s worried he might try to seduce her before the wedding ceremony.

Aegon and Aemond have sexual experience, but not romantic experience, so women are a mystery to them. 🙃 Daeron, meanwhile, is like “why don’t you just treat girls like people, they’re not a different species.”

Velargirls are sneakily interrogating Helaena for info about the Targbros. Helaena knows it, and she lets them do it. Her brothers will thank her for it one day.

Otto’s daily cup of prune juice is one of my favorite running jokes in this series.

The bit about Aegon’s “accessories” lying around his bed is a reference to the infamous screenshot in S1E8 of Aegon’s medieval sex toy collection. 😳

The handkerchief that Aegon notices in Jace’s room is the handkerchief she gives him later. It’s also the same handkerchief he waves as a white flag to Laenor and Rhaenys in Chapter 6. Luce knitted the shawl for Jace, of course.

Septa Lucinda is another of my favorite running jokes. Modern!Jace definitely secretly reads smutty romance novels.

Rhaenyra’s diagrams about sex were also mentioned in The Golds. 🤭

Jace wakes up early enough before Aegon that she has time to primp and dress herself to her usual level of being presentable. But she already feels comfortable enough around Aegon to leave off some of her public-facing layers. She even switches to her usual robe, the kind she wears for lounging alone in her room, rather than the skimpy one that’s designed to make Aegon like her.

Viserys intentionally sent the messenger late enough that Aegon would be late to the meeting. 🙄 Luckily for Aegon, his wife is an expert at making people look presentable in very little time.

Even though Larys isn’t able to worm his way into Alicent’s confidence in this AU, he still offs his father and brother. Larys has ambition, and he has better odds of sneakily climbing up the ladder if he’s the lord of Harrenhal rather than a spare.

Aegon is very ADHD-coded in this verse. He also just isn’t meant for administrative work.

Toward the end of this chapter, Aegon has the realization that he’s been using sex as a band-aid. He wants to feel accepted and wanted for himself. As Helaena says later, he wants to be seen. And he already feels like Jace can give him that. Them giving each other permission to call each other by their first name is another milestone in both of them shedding their masks.

Jace’s job in this universe is being Aegon’s wife (at first), and she performs her job like her life depends on it (which it kinda does…?). She already figured out that Aegon gets hangry. Or maybe hupset would be more accurate.

All the urban planning and governance topics that Jace studies isn’t part of a typical lady’s education. But she grew up super close to Rhaenys, who was given an heir’s education. And Corlys and Laenor definitely indulge the Velargirls in their interests.

Aegon does indeed fulfill his promise to build a more beautiful and comfortable throne for Jace next to his. 🥰

See Chapter 2 commentary here.

[chelseasdagger]

i’m at work and a guy just body shamed me and sexualized me in the same sentence. i wanna go home

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t get why people feel like the Duolingo owl is threatening, if I ever feel like he is I just get mad at him. I could fight an owl. I don’t know if I’d win, but I don’t think I’d lose (two things that can apparently coexist). I think I’d survive at least and that’s not really winning but also not losing.

You wanna be so threatening? Da bør du drepe meg!

[incorrectquotesideas-deactivated]

Person A: Do you want a beer? I’m paying.

Person B, going through the restaurant’s menu: No. Ugh, where’s the good stuff?

Person A, half jokingly: I thought you were an alcoholic.

Person B: Exactly. I’d need at least, like, four beers — without food — to get slightly buzzed, and my stomach can’t fit over 2 beers in it. I’m small. I’ll have a rum, neat.

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

[bibleofficial]

getting bitched at for being on crutches, getting bitched at for being in a wheelchair - or NOT in a wheelchair - getting bitched at for WALKING TOO SLOW ON A CANE like my family needs to fuck off and leave me ALONE