#HOW YA LIKE MY GROOVE?

[themouthwashes]

QUE TRUENE LA BOCINA SWANSEA

[i-love-harryosborn-dotcom]

Wolfsborn AU?? Wolfsborn AU.

Becoming a wolf man is complicated, being in love with a guy who flakes out on you a lot (and is secretly a wolf man) is complicated. But i like to think they make it work really well

And i like to think that whenever Harry finds out- it’s whimsical n fun n romantic n cute

[leori-the-unlearned]

rereading IDW sonic is giving me a better picture of just how skewed tangle’s recent characterization is :(

i know continuity marches on and all but man. tangle is the only one getting THIS bent out of shape all the time and it sucks. she’s the everyman (she really shouldn’t be) and keeps getting mistaken for a different character trope by each new arc’s writers

[hausofmingi]

spotlight | choi seungcheol

pairing: choi seungcheol x afab reader

word count: 5.6K

summary: You're so excited to get the opportunity to sound design your favorite show, Hadestown. But the new lighting guy really knows how to piss you off.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, sound designer!reader, lighting designer!seungcheol, switch!reader and switch!seungcheol, fight for dominance, unprotected piv (don't do that), oral (f and m receiving), semi-public?, munch behavior, head pusher (SORRY IM SORRY), use of petnames (babygirl, sweetie/sweetheart, good girl, baby)

author's note: so hi. if you've noticed i've been gone for like months and months, no i haven't mind ya business. ANYWAYS this was a VERYYYYY indulgent fic bc as you may be able to tell i dabble in theatre. but im not a sound person, maybe one day ill do a fic from an actor perspective but something about being in the booth got me IDKKKKKK. also this would never happen and don't do this it's so incredibly unprofessional. and thank you to my betas, @hausofwoo and T, yall always have my back (and so does neo).

It’s always exciting getting started on a new show. The new people, new creative outlets, new ideas to try. After the last couple years of being a sound designer, you really feel like you found your groove when it came to jumping into a new show. 

This is a theatre you have worked for a few times before; a small one but it paid the techies well and even got you some union points. 

The production manager, Moonbyul, was a longtime friend and had called you in to sound design Hadestown. You had to say yes, of course, to one of your favorite musicals. You had seen it on Broadway a few years before and fell in love with it, especially the production design of it all. 

Moonbyul had also mentioned that they were bringing in a new lighting designer. The last one you had worked with was very lovely, but also an older man that would fall asleep between cues so probably for the best…

At the first production meeting, you were eager to get started and fire off all the great ideas you had for the production, so you wanted to get there early to get all your notes organized. 

You walked into the theatre about half an hour early, expecting to see Moonbyul and Vernon (the stage manager) running around, but they were nowhere to be found. 

You set your stuff down in an audience seat, and head to the stage. It had been a few years since you had been on this side of things, but it always gave you a rush to see the audience from this view; standing center stage. 

Retiring from performing was not an easy choice, fueled by hate and trauma and self-judgement. But when it was time to leave, you found a space in sound design. Being taken under the wing of a longtime mentor, Jihoon, made everything come to you easy and you’ve been hooked ever since. 

Even though the stage is dark, you can close your eyes and imagine the audience in front of you, lights shining, costume sparkling. You hum a few bars of “Flowers” to yourself, slowing your breathing and your brain for just a second. 

BOOM. A bright light cuts through your vision. You hold your hands up in front of your eyes to shield them before you open them. 

“What the heck??” you shout at whoever is in the booth. 

“Sorry, sorry.” says a voice, the light too bright for you to make out a face. “You just looked like you could use a spot.”

“I’m good thanks…” you answer back coldly. 

“Alright, but just know you look great from up here. Made for the stage.” the voice says. 

“Thanks..” you answer under your breath, not sure how to react to the obvious compliment.

The spot shuts off and you blink a few times to adjust your eyesight. Standing in the booth is a figure, a taller man with broad shoulders. But it's still too dark to see his facial features. 

It seems as if he’s just standing there… looking at you.

“Um… can you bring up the house lights?” you ask him. 

“Oh yeah! Sorry..” he responds. The house lights come up a second later. “I’m gonna come down there, hold on one sec!” he says.

You step off of the stage, a little embarrassed you got caught lost in a daydream. You walk over to your stuff, digging through your backpack to get out your Ipad and pencil, if only you could find the damn thing…

A tap on your shoulder startles you and you turn around in defense. In front of you stands maybe the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His hair was long, his bangs perfectly framing his dark, deep eyes. And man were those shoulders broad… he could probably pick you up and throw you around a little….

You were staring. 

“Um.. sorry you scared me.” you said, trying to cover up your obvious gawking. 

“No you’re good, I tend to sneak up on people. I’m Seongcheol by the way, nice to meet you.” he holds out his (very large) hand for you to shake.

“___” you respond, and take his hand. You’re too stunned to even move your hand to shake his, but he holds your hand strongly and commands the handshake. 

An obvious indicator that he can take control. 

You shake away that thought, remembering the pact you made with yourself to stay far far away from another showmance. 

Your hand is still in his, and his eyes have not left yours. Has time slowed down?

“Good, you guys have met!” says Moonbyul, walking down the aisle where you guys were standing, Vernon trailing close behind. Seungcheol lets go of your hand and quickly turns around to face them. 

“Ready to get this meeting started?”

The rest of the production team trickles in and the production meeting promptly starts; Moonbyul is not one for tardiness. 

All the designers give their presentations, and this is always so exciting for you. To watch the production blossom from pieces of paper to onstage art is a beautiful thing. You especially love the costume designers concept of using color to show contrast between the human characters and the god characters.

Finally comes Seungcheol’s presentation. He opens up his laptop to a lighting program, already set with the stages dimensions and the set design and presses play. He explains while the lights change from scene to scene, full of color and different gobos to add texture. 

There is obviously a lot of thought put behind this design. He is extremely talented. And hot. 

His presentation finishes and it’s obvious how his shoulders relax. Those broad shoulders. He must not like being the center of attention, you think.

It’s your turn next, so you shake the thoughts of him away before stepping in front of the others with your laptop in hand. 

You are always very prepared, already having the mic plot done and the sound effects downloaded to the board. You are super excited to present your concept for the final song- I Raise My Cup. Having seen the show on Broadway, you have a good idea of how the audience will react to the final scene of the show. Complete silence. So your concept is to have the characters sing this song with no help of the mics, completely acapella and completely raw. 

“But what if the audience claps?” Seungcheols voice shoots through your confidence. 

“They won't,” you reassure. 

“But they might, and then what? We won't be able to hear Persephone and then the rest of the cast will be thrown off for the rest of the song,” he pushes.

“I promise, that won’t be a problem. The audience will be stunned by the heartbreaking ending, they won’t know what to do.”

“I don’t like it,” he says blankly.

Okay maybe he’s not so hot anymore. 

This little shit is totally bursting your bubble, what the fuck? You were so proud of this idea, why did he have to embarrass you in front of the director and entire production team??

“Let’s put a pin in that one. Thank you for that great presentation, let's move on to props!” says Moonbyul, cutting through the tension. 

You take your seat next to Seungcheol, but not before shooting him a piercing scowl. 

He leans over to you once you sit down. “Hey, no hard feelings. I'm just a skeptic, ya know?” he whispers over the presentation. 

“Yeah well next time please keep it to yourself. Some of us are trying to make a name in this theatre,” you shoot back. 

The rest of the meeting is spent with your arms crossed, trying not to melt into the smell of Seungcheol’s cologne, but rather hold steady in your annoyance with him. 

The next day is the first day of rehearsal for the cast, and although you aren’t called, you decide to come in to organize the booth a little bit. 

They’re learning music on the stage, so you open the booth window so you can hear the cast sing. The music of this show is so beautiful, so romantic. It's nice to listen to while you work.

It’s when the actress playing Eurydice starts singing Flowers that you space off, lost in the beauty of the song. If you were still acting, this role would be a dream role for you. Of course you belt this song all the time in your car. 

You start to sing along under your breath, knowing that no one will hear you up here. 

Flowers, I remember fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

You sing to yourself, imagining a beautiful field laid out before you instead of a 10-year-old soundboard. 

I remember someone, someone by my side. Turned his face to mine, and then he turned away, into the shade. 

In the field of flowers, who pops into your head but Seungcheol. That asshole is so damn beautiful you can’t help but imagine him as your Orpheus. 

The song finishes out with the final notes and you sigh as your day dream dissipates, shaking away the thought of ever seeing Seungcheol in that way and returning back to the box of mystery chords you were wrapping.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You really hope it's Vernon. 

“Didn’t know you could sing?” says Seungcheol from behind you. 

“I don’t anymore.” you reply coldly, not really interested in conversing with him.

“You should, you have a beautiful voice,” he says.

You turn away from him as he comes to the lightboard next to you, hiding your blush. 

“Thanks,” you say, trying not to show too much emotion in your voice.

Silence fills the space as he pulls up a chair and opens up the light programming app on the desktop. You direct your attention back to your cords that connect to god knows what. 

“So about yesterday…” he starts.

“Yeah, that was a dick move,” you blurt out. Maybe not so direct next time.

“Look I get that you’re upset, but I just call them like I see them. I get your idea but I don’t think it's gonna work. What's wrong with a little bit of criticism?” he asks.

You take a breath before you turn to him and give him a piece of your mind.

“What’s wrong is I don’t know what gave you the idea that I asked for criticism. I’ve been working at this theatre for a long time, you’re still fresh meat. Really isn’t a good look to come flouncing in giving everyone unsolicited criticism,” you spit at him. 

You get so worked up that you stomp over to where he is sitting on the other side of the booth. The look on his face is unwavering though, in fact it turns into a smirk as he stands. 

He is easily a foot taller than you, looking down at you without closing the space between the two of you. 

You feel so small. You swear you feel yourself throb.

“Someone’s got their panties in a twist,” he says, still smirking. 

You are stunned, mouth falling open but no words coming out. That sentence has never sounded sexier.

“It’s alright, I’ll be nicer to you from now on, knowing how sensitive you get.” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear for extra effect. 

And then the asshole just walks away and sits back down as if nothing even happened. 

You’re still frozen in place, in shock at the intense flirting that just happened. 

“So, you said you have worked here for a while, how have you liked it?” he asks, continuing the conversation with no indication of what just happened. 

This is going to be a long day. 

After a few hours of genuinely torturous small talk with Seungcheol mixed with palpable silence, you decide to call it an early day. You got almost nothing done, besides wrapping and unwrapping a bunch of useless cords and clicking on random folders on the sound desktop. 

As you leave, he promises to see you tomorrow and sends you off with a wink that makes your knees weak.

The next day, you get there later than usual. The cast is learning blocking in the dance studio, giving the techies free reign of the stage for the afternoon. 

You’re hoping your tardiness will allow you to avoid the overlap with Seungcheol and you can have the booth to yourself.

But, no luck. There he is, sitting in the rolling chair at the lighting desktop in the sexiest skin tight compression shirt you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re gawking when he turns the chair around. “Like what you see?” he teases.

You come back to your senses at his words. “You wish,” you grumble as you head to your station, hoping to get some work done today. 

You swear you hear him scoff as he turns back to the desktop.

“Blackout!” he shouts down to the set people on the stage, as he presses the “next cue” button. A series of “thank you blackouts!” follow, in proper theatre etiquette.

You keep quiet though. 

He goes through a few more cues, calling blackout a few more times, and you still don’t say anything. 

“You know, it’s proper manners to say ‘thank you’ when I call blackout,” he points out after the 4th time.

“What do you know about manners?” you grumble under your breath.

He crosses over to you, again smirking, as he says “Enough to know that you need to learn some, baby girl.”

Shocks of electricity go straight to your clit. 

“Don’t call me that, get that stick out of your ass, and fucking leave me alone Seungcheol!” you shout, unsure if you're more angry or turned on or both. 

You grab your stuff to leave in a hurry, all the while he doesn’t move from his spot where he’s standing; just leans against the counter and crosses his arms to watch you angrily throw stuff in your bag. 

You turn to leave, expecting him to apologize for his inappropriate comment. But when you turn to look back at him, all you see is him looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. He waves a finger at you before you stomp down the stairs and out of the booth. 

You text Moonbyul and Vernon some bullshit excuse about period cramps and that you have to leave early, before going home and using up all the battery in your vibrator.

Saturday no one is called, so you use this as an excuse to go in and pick up where you left off before leaving in a huff.

Luckily you have keys, so you let yourself into the empty theatre and up to the booth.

It’s really nice to work in the silence of the empty theatre, only the ghostlight lighting the stage. You leave the ceiling light off in the booth, only leaving on the string lights you and Jihoon added to make the space more cozy. 

You put on your headphones and get to work. The music director sent you a recording of the cast singing, so you make sure all your cues align with the music.

You work for about an hour before it's rudely interrupted by Seungcheol lifting one side of the headphones off your ear. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back, before he whispers, “Boo.” 

Jumping out of your chair a little bit, you snatch his hand away from your headphones and turn back around without a word to him. 

“Sorry to scare you,” he giggles. “I just forgot my charger last time.”

You give him no reply, not interested in potentially entering another conversation where you leave dripping.

“Actually, would you mind if I stayed and worked on a few things?” he asks.

Again, you don’t respond. 

You see him shrug his shoulders in your peripherals and sit down in his chair to get to work.

Both of you sit in heavy silence as you work, and the more silent it is, the more you feel the tension rise, with anger burning in your chest.

What is the deal with this guy? Does he like just getting a rise out of people? Why does he feel the need to torture me? What did I even do to him??

“Gum?” he asks, holding out a pack to you.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you shout back.

He looks stunned as he takes a piece out and unwraps it, popping it in his mouth. “So, no gum then…”

“Why do you treat me this way, Seungcheol? It’s fucked up,” you shout, moving towards him to really give it to him.

“Treat you what way exactly?” he asks slyly.

“You just keep saying annoying shit to me, pushing my buttons and pissing me off. But then you make me leave every conversation so turned on that I can’t even think straight. I don’t get it, what is your issue with me??” You shout at him.

He looks at you in silence for a second, his expression unreadable.

“I… turn you on?” he asks.

Oh shit. You may have revealed a bit too much….

“I… what? I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter.

“Oh well in that case… it won’t mean anything to you if I do this?” 

He stands up and turns to face you, arms leaning against the countertop, caging you between them. You swear you see the veins straining against his skin, bulging out from his thick arms as he moves closer.

He leans in close to your ear, breath fanning down your neck. You’re frozen in place, trying to focus on slowing your breathing. 

“Jump,” he says. And you do, hopping up to sit on the counter. Why did you just obey him??

“Good girl.”

Oh that’s why.

“Now,” he starts, his lips moving all over your neck, so close but not touching as he breathes the next few words onto you. 

“I’m really curious to know exactly what it is I do that turns you on?” one of his hands snakes up the side of your thigh, dipping just slightly under the skirt you’re wearing and playing with the edge. 

“Can you tell me, baby girl?” he says before he licks a stripe up your neck. 

You shudder and lean into him a little bit. It’s over for you now.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, hovering in front of your lips now. 

You grab his arm to stop him from moving back. “Please,” you say in a desperate voice. 

His lips meet yours, and slowly he starts making out with you. His big lips make it sloppy, but it's so hot you could care less.

He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, swirling around yours so sensually it goes straight to your throbbing pussy. He snakes his hand into your hair, guiding your head with his big hand to deepen the kiss. 

The strap of your tank top falls and before you can put it back, he takes the opportunity to bring it down even more, revealing your bare breast to him. He pinches your nipple between two fingers, lightly twisting it enough to make you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away after a few seconds, a string of spit connecting your lips. You look up at his large frame through your lashes, breathing heavily. 

And then he does something you don’t expect. He drops to his knees. 

He grabs your ass and forcefully pulls you forward on the counter to access you better. You know he can see the wet spot forming on your white panties, and try to cross your legs out of embarrassment.

“Absolutely not.” he says in protest, snaking his arms underneath your thighs and grabbing them so you’re practically sitting on his shoulders.

He kisses up and down your thighs, not yet touching you where you need him. You whine and wiggle your hips, attempting to bring him closer. 

“Someone really does have their panties in a twist…” he smirks from below you. That little shit.

He barely gives you what you desperately need, lightly kissing your clit through your panties.

“Cheol, please…” you whine, attempting to get him to give you a little bit more. 

“Babygirl, I know you can beg better than that,” he says, lifting his head up. He keeps a finger pressed to your clit as he talks, rubbing in small, torturous circles. 

Your cheeks heat up, probably turning red. You’ve already given in to this annoying shit, there’s no way you’re begging for him. You just whine in response, not willing to give him what he wants. 

“You sure you don’t want to beg for it?...” he questions slyly, while at the same time moving your now completely wet panties to the side.

He gives your pulsing clit a few kitten licks, just enough to give you a taste of what you could have, all while never breaking eye contact with you. 

You whimper at the contact, starting to reach out your hand to grab his head and pull it closer. He knows what you're up to, though, and grabs your wrist, forcing it back to its place on the counter.

“Now try again baby, beg for what you want.” he says, slipping your panties off in anticipation.

You sit there a minute, chest already heaving with desire, dripping all over the counter. 

“Please Cheol, you know how badly I need it. I deserve it after all the shit you put me through,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can think about them fully.

He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that stupid fucking smirk that makes you shiver. “Oh is that so?” he questions.

And then he dives in. It’s as if he has been eating your pussy for years, somehow finding the exact rhythm and pressure on your clit that makes the string lights turn blurry. His arms are wrapped around both of your thighs, as if he was trying to choke them out. 

You grab the back of his head with one hand, and start rolling your hips into his mouth, chasing the high that is hurdling closer. He loves it, judging by the way he growls into your pussy, barely pulling away to mumble “fuck yes” before plunging two fingers into you. 

It only takes him hooking them into your g-spot a few times along with flicking your clit with his tongue before you are cumming into him, gasping and not letting go of the tight hold you have on his hair. 

He pulls away, resting his head on the inside of your thigh, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His plump lips are completely drenched with your wetness. He looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a goddess.

Oh, it really is over for me. 

“Stand up,” you order.

He questions you at first, but then gets the message when you hop off the counter and drop to your knees. 

He pets your hair, towering over you, but not unbuckling his belt like you so want him to. 

“You really don’t have to, baby. But it’s so sweet seeing how compliant you are.” he says with a slight smirk. 

“Shut up,” you say, all the while undoing his belt. He continues to pet your hair, watching your every move. 

You pull his cock out of his boxers. It's perfect; long but not too long, and slightly curved upwards. He’s definitely a fucking munch seeing how much it's already dripping precum. 

You hover your lips around the tip, kissing it lightly. He hums above you in approval. 

“Now, it's your turn to beg for it.” you tease, pulling away from him. 

He chuckles from above you, fucking chuckles, before grabbing the back of your head with more force than before.

“Oh sweetie, I don’t beg.” he says, before pulling your head forward onto him.

A head pusher? Yeah… But for some reason, this time, it was the hottest thing he could have done. 

You get to work, watching his mouth drop open in pleasure while you work your mouth up and down his length. You cup your tongue around the underside of him, pulling out every trick in the book to try and get the upperhand in this fight.

He’s very obviously enjoying it, moaning loud enough for anyone in the theater to hear and eyes locked into contact with yours. He swipes his other hand through his bangs, which are now collecting the sweat from his brow. God he’s beautiful.

Even though his hand is holding your head down, you still have full control, so you slow down your pace just a little to try another trick. 

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, lightly squeezing and tugging to bring him closer. You feel his cock pulse in your mouth at the added pleasure. 

But nothing could’ve prepared him for your next trick. 

You slowly trail your finger backwards, lightly circling his rim to test the waters. But before you can even think about going further, you hear a gargled moan come from him, and he pulls you off your knees by your hair. 

Your face meets his, foreheads touching, but you divert your eyes down, scared you may have crossed a line.

“Why the fuck are you trying to make me cum before I get to feel that pussy around me?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up knowing that it worked, filing that info into your head for another time. 

“Turn around,” he barks, but you stay still. You bring your eyes up off the floor to meet his, determined not to let him win the struggle for control. 

“Funny if you think I’m going to let you fuck me from behind right off the bat.” you say, trying to put power behind your words even though you feel so little in his arms. 

“Oh, well then what’s your alternative sweetheart?” he cuts back at you, as if humoring you.

“Take this off,” you say, tugging at his shirt, “and sit down.”

“Hm… but aren’t you going to take anything off too?” he asks, pulling away and pulling his shirt over his head from the back of the neck. 

You get distracted by his toned stomach, your retort getting stuck in the back of your throat. 

He giggles at you again, before stepping forward and grabbing the hem of the crop top you were wearing. 

“How about, we take this off, but leave the skirt on?” he says, dragging his fingers along the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your consent.

You nod at him, and he swiftly lifts the top off of you, leaving you in your skirt and bra. 

He silently backs up into the chair, sitting down and draping his thick arms over the arms of it.

You slowly walk towards him, really wanting to drag this part out, before you lift up your legs to straddle him in the chair.

You hover over his cock, but before you drop down, you make eye contact with him. He’s staring into you, as if looking into your soul, and you stutter your movements, all of the sudden getting nervous. 

It’s as if he senses the nerves, and brings a hand to the small of your back, trying to reassure and ground you silently.

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, before leaning in to kiss him. This one is different though, not like the intense one before. This one is slower, tongues just brushing over each other. Kissing like you have all the time in the world.

Your hands tangle in his hair as you slowly sink onto his length, pausing the kiss to moan in each other's mouths. 

As you bottom out, he holds your hips in place, not allowing you to start bouncing. “Just give me a minute, baby. You feel too good.” he sighs out.

You find it endearing how close he already is just from the kiss, and as much as you are tempted to start the game of control back up and just start bouncing, you stay still. 

You press your body against his in anticipation, so that your stomachs are pressed together. He feels so warm against you, and his arms circle around your back as he lets go of your hips. 

You take this as a green light and start bouncing on him, never breaking the contact of your forehead against his. 

He fills you up soooo perfectly, the curve in his cock dragging so deliciously along your g-spot. You can’t help but to speed up, the sounds of his balls slapping your wet pussy fill the booth. 

He’s circled his arms around your hips now, grabbing your ass and basically moving you up and down on his cock without you having to do any work. But even with that, the awkward position makes your legs burn and you start to slow down. 

“You getting tired baby?” he asks, and you nod. “Do you need me to help you?” he asks, to which you nod again. 

He wraps his arm underneath your thighs and picks you up out of the chair as if you weighed nothing. You knew those arms would come to good use. He sets you down on the edge of the counter before entering you again. 

You keep your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he starts thrusting into you. This angle is different than before, allowing him to directly hit your g-spot every time.

His pace is somehow way more effective at pushing you to the edge than your own pace was, and you find yourself getting desperately close to your second orgasm. 

It’s as if he can read your mind, or it's probably just him feeling your pussy pulse around him tightly, but he smirks to himself. Almost too small for you to notice. But you do notice, and next thing you know he is pulling out and jacking his cock off in between you both. You whimper at the loss of him filling you up. 

“Help me cum and maybe I’ll let you cum again when I get you in my bed tonight,” he breathes out heavily. 

You huff out in frustration, but unfortunately, you are completely under his spell. You reach in between you both and take over jacking him off. Your other hand snakes around the back of his head, pulling it down towards you so you can whisper in his ear. 

“Maybe if you make me cum again tonight, I'll let you fill me up.” you whisper in his ear. 

That sends him over the edge, and he grabs the counter as he stutters in your hands, cumming all over your skirt. 

You giggle as his orgasm trails off. “You owe me a new skirt now I guess.” you say.

He catches his breath before scooping you up into his arms again. “I’ll buy you a hundred new skirts if you suck my dick my like that again.” 

With another giggle, you peck him on the nose. “So, does this mean I won the fight?” you ask. 

“I don’t know what makes you think that babygirl,” he chuckles as he sets you down. 

He hands you your shirt before finding his own. Still a gentleman even when he’s being an asshole. 

A door in the theatre opens, scaring the shit out of both of you. You both scramble into the spotlight room to put your clothes back on out of sight of the huge window.

“Hey guys! I know you’re here! The director just emailed me back with some tech notes.” Vernon yells from the audience. 

“Okay come on up, it's unlocked!” Seungcheol yells down to Vernon from the enclosed room, now fully dressed. 

He pecks you on the lips before rushing out of the room to his seat at the counter. Which you just fucked on.

You scramble to clean off your skirt with a tissue before rushing to your own chair and sitting down. But it isn’t until you sit down that you realize, you’re still not wearing panties. 

It’s as if Seungcheol reads your mind and you both lock eyes in terror. There are your panties sitting in the middle of the counter. 

The door opens and Vernon starts walking up the stairs to the booth as Seungcheol grabs your panties and haphazardly stuffs them in his pocket. 

“Hey guys, glad you're--” he stops in the middle of the sentence. “It smells like dick in here what the fuck??” he exclaims.

You hid your face, scared you might burst out laughing. 

Seungcheol takes the heat for you though, explaining it off as him leaving some leftovers in here overnight.

Vernon takes you both through some notes before leaving, with a peculiar expression on his face. 

Something tells you he has a suspicion, and you might be hearing some rumors tomorrow thanks to the nosy theatre bitches you surround yourself with…

It’s silent for a moment after Vernon leaves, before you both burst out laughing. 

“Okay well that was fun, but I’m getting my chair all wet. Can I have my underwear back now?” you ask after the laughter dies down. 

“Um, absolutely not! I’m keeping these,” Seungcheol says with a wink before turning back to his desktop to finally get to work. 

And later that night, you both get what you promised.

a/n: thank you for reading, and please reblog and leave feedback! 💕

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bloodlust | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implied sexism/objectification

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Dean was in the best mood you’d seen him in in a long time. He was grooving to his music as the Impala cruised along the highway; having finally fixed his baby. “Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean.”

“Oh, don't listen to her, baby. She doesn't understand us.”

Sam laughed. “You're in a good mood.”

“Why shouldn't I be?” Dean questioned.

“No reason.”

“Got my car, got a case; things are looking up.”

You hummed. “Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you’re little miss sunshine.”

He laughed. “How far to Red Lodge?”

Sam responded, “Uh, about another three hundred miles.”

“Good,” Dean smirked, flooring it.

***

The sheriff you and the brothers talked to obviously thought the three of you were insane when you questioned him about the decapitations and cow mutilations. He ordered you to get out of his office, to which you agreed.

Needing another plan, you and the brothers headed to the hospital in your respective suits and dress. You didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes raked over your body as you made your way into the morgue.

“Decorum, please,” you teased, swishing your hips as you walked ahead of him.

Dean walked closely behind you and read the nametag of the unsuspecting intern sitting behind the desk. “John.”

“Jeff,” he corrected.

“Jeff. I know that,” Dean chuckled. “Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation.”

“Well, he's back. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would—” he clicked his tongue and jutted his thumb behind him.

The intern looked terrified and ran away.

“Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead,” Sam responded.

“Yeah. So much fucked up crap happens in Florida.” He handed you and Sam pairs of latex gloves and tugged on a pair of his own. 

You pulled out a metal bed with a woman’s corpse laying on it and a box between her legs. 

“Alright, open it,” Dean told Sam.

“You open it,” Sam protested.

“You guys are pussies.” You grabbed the box and took the lid off, unfazed by the sight before you.

Dean cringed at the sight of the head, saying, “Well, no pentagram.”

“Wow. Poor girl,” Sam said.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. Y'know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead,” you smirked, spinning the box toward him.

“No, you go ahead,” he rebutted.

“What?”

“ ‘Put the lotion in the basket.’ “ 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You pried her mouth open and looked down her throat. 

“Dean, get me a bucket?” Sam grimaced. “I'm going to puke.”

You felt around her mouth a bit more and found strange grooves above her gumline. You pulled her lip up and pressed just above one of the holes, and a fang descended. “Oh, this fucking bitch.”

“She’s already dead, (Y/N), relax,” Dean told you.

“Well, this changes things,” noted Sam.

“Ya think?” you and Dean asked in unison.

***

You and the brothers decided to go for a few drinks after the discoveries you’d made and pick up the next morning. You immediately felt a man’s eyes on you and uncomfortably shifted in your seat. “You pickin’ up what I am?” you discreetly whispered to Dean.

“Yeah, definitely,” he responded lowly, sitting on a barstool. “How's it going?”

The bartender answered, “Living the dream. What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

Sam began, “So, we're looking for some people.”

“Sure. Hard to be lonely,” the bartender smirked. 

“Yeah. But, um, that's not what I meant.” Sam pulled a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it in front of the bartender, who took it hesitantly. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink—”

“Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night,” Dean chimed in.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot— drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.”

You and Dean thanked the bartender for his help and continued to nurse your beers. After a few minutes, you and the brothers continued to feel the man’s eyes on you. On high alert, all three of you moved for the door and noticed all that was left of the man was a smoldering cigarette in an ashtray.

You and the brothers walked out of the bar and past the Impala to lead the man who’d been stalking you away. You rounded a corner and jumped out of the way so the brothers could pin the man who’d followed you to the wall. Dean held a knife to the man’s throat and commanded, “Smile.”

“What?” the man asked.

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of— you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," he replied nonchalantly.

You frowned.

“Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.” Even his voice was unsettling.

“What do you know about vampires?” you asked.

“How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.”

Dean cocked his head and the man started to pull away. Sam pinned him down harder. 

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi,” the man said. He slowly brought his hand up to his lips and revealed normal gums. “See? Fangless. Happy?”

Dean let him up. “Now. Who the hell are you?”

"Gordon. Gordon Walker," he replied. "You?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam; that's (Y/N)."

The man led you over to his car and pulled out an arsenal rack from behind his backseat. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot—”

Dean was on-guard. “You seem to know a lot about our family.”

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk,” the man explained.

“No, I don’t, actually,” you chimed in.

“You're a firecracker, aren't cha?” he asked. His somehow hauntingly melodic voice had you on edge.

You refused to respond.

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam jumped in.

“Yep. Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that Barker farm?” Dean questioned.

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” You almost laughed at Gordon’s comment. 

“Where's the nest, then?” Dean asked.

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin; tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We could help,” Dean suggested.

“Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

Dean groaned, “Come on, man, I"ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” He got down into his car and leaned out of the window. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off.

“He seems like a world-class douche,” you commented as you watched his retreating red car.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam snorted. 

“C’mon.” Dean started off to his car.

“Where we goin’?” 

“To find ourselves a fang.”

***

Dean followed Gordon’s distinctive red car to a warehouse where you deduced he’d tracked a vampire to. 

You rushed up the labyrinth of ladders toward the sounds of a running mill saw and the two men struggling. When you arrived at the scene, you saw Gordon on the verge of getting his head taken off by the vampire and the saw. You and Sam each grabbed a boot and pulled Gordon away from the vampire’s impressive strength. Dean attacked the vampire and replaced Gordon with him, lowering the saw to the vampire’s throat. You watched in concern as blood sprayed across Dean’s face, and he seemed completely unreactive. 

“So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink,” Gordon chuckled awkwardly. 

***

You agreed to meet Gordon back at the bar you’d met him at after you cleaned Dean up. Sam went into the bar with Gordon to get a round of drinks started. You took hydrogen peroxide out of the first aid kit in the car and began to wipe Dean’s face off with it.

“I can do this myself, y’know,” he mumbled.

“I do.” You let a silence settle between you before you spoke again. “What happened to you back there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, you got fucking scary back there. I’ve never seen you like that,” you explained.

“I was just excited to get back to huntin’, (Y/N).”

“No, dude, I know you. You’re lethal but never… cold. You’re worrying me,” you admitted.

“Well, don’t, okay? I’m fine,” he said, lightly pushing you off him and taking the towel from you. He finished wiping himself off and began to walk inside. You were hurt but refused to let that show and followed him into the bar. 

***

Rounds deep of Gordon and Dean swapping stories, you and Sam were exhausted of the talk of blood, guts, and gore. Gordon soon circled back to Dean’s kill of the evening. “Dean,” he laughed. “You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Dean grinned.

“That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Was it, though?” you questioned, ignoring the way Dean’s gaze burned into the side of your head and keeping your eyes locked on Gordon.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean asked you.

“Fine,” you responded.

“Well, lighten up a little, sweetheart,” Gordon jested.

“He's the only one who gets to call me that,” you immediately stated firmly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

“Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess,” Sam chimed in.

“Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job,” Gordon said simply. 

"That's what it is, though," you broke in. "A job. I enjoy it, but bloodshed doesn't exactly get my rocks off." You kept your eyes locked on Gordon, who stared back.

Sam sighed and stood up. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel. C’mon, (Y/N).”

“You sure?” Dean asked the two of you as you stood.

The two of you nodded wordlessly.

“Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you two later, alright?” Dean joked, throwing Sam the keys.

You walked out angrily and didn’t say a word to Sam on the way back to the motel.

***

“I don’t like that guy,” you muttered to Sam as you paced around his and Dean’s motel room. “I really don’t like vampires, but I really don’t like that guy.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m gonna call Ellen; see what she thinks.”

“Good idea.”

Sam raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ellen, uh, Sam Winchester… Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Got a question. You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?... And?... Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kinda working with him, I guess…” His face suddenly changed. “I— I thought you said he was a good hunter.” 

You watched curiously as he listened to another thing she had to say before bidding the woman goodbye. “I’m guessing she told you he was bad news,” you said once he’d hung up.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Great.”

“Sam, I hate vamps more than probably anybody. But Dean was just… so… not Dean when he took the head off that one,” you said.

“I know. It’s buggin’ me, too,” he sighed. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want one?”

“Just a water, please,” you replied.

Minutes went by, and Sam still hadn’t returned from the vending machine. You were beginning to get a little worried, but decided that maybe he just needed a second to himself. When ten minutes turned into fifteen, though, you really started to panic. You darted outside and looked over to the vending machine. Sam was nowhere to be found. You called Dean in a panic, saying, “Dean, Sam’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What?! What the hell happened?!”

“I don’t know!” You ran a hand through your hair. “He just went to get a drink, and now he’s gone!”

“Well, maybe he just went for a walk,” Dean tried.

“No, Dean, he would’ve told me. What the hell is with you? Normally, you’d be flipping out by now.”

“Watch it, (Y/N). Hang tight. We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

‘We. Gordon. Fucking fantastic.’

***

When Dean and Gordon returned to the boys’ motel room, you clung to the back wall, feeling very uncomfortable around Gordon and Dean’s new attitude.

Gordon was discussing strategies on how to get Sam back with Dean— supposing the vampires you were hunting was behind this— when the man in question strolled through the door.

“Sam?!” you asked, pushing off the wall and running to him. You hugged him tightly around his neck. “Where the hell did you go?”

“Can I talk to you two alone?” he asked you and his brother.

“You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?” Dean asked Gordon, who shook his head. You and the brothers exited the room and stood in the parking lot. 

“Guys, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What makes you say that, Sammy?” you asked. 

“Where were you?” Dean questioned.

“In the nest.”

“What? You found it?” Dean questioned. Yours and his eyebrows shot up.

“They found me, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?” the older brother asked.

“None.”

“Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go.”

“That's exactly what they did.”

“No fucking way,” you said. “I know vamps, they wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, how do you explain the fact that I’m not dead, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged. “Good point. But what the hell, man?”

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“I was blindfolded. I don't know.”

“Well, you've got to know something,” the older brother pressed.

Sam huffed. “We went over that bridge outside of town, but guys, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?” you and Dean asked.

“I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.”

“The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch.” Sam held his arms out to either side of himself, encouraging you and Dean to examine him.

“Wait, so you're saying—” Dean cut himself off. “No, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care. We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?” Sam huffed.

“What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!” the brunet argued.

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same, Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“Dean, I’m with Sam on this one,” you finally said.

“Really, (Y/N)? You?” he looked at you stunned.

“Yeah, dude. I trust Sam. I hate vampires more than the next person. But I just don’t feel good about this hunt all around. I say we leave these vampires and Gordon in our dust,” you responded.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Dean scoffed. “Gordon?”

“Why are you so defensive of him?” you questioned, voicing rising slightly.

“Because he’s been going after these things for a year, (Y/N), I think he knows,” he said.

“Sam called Ellen. She says he’s bad news.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Dean looked at his brother. “You called Ellen?”

Sam nodded.

“And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, (Y/N). No thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right. ‘Cause Gordon’s such an old friend,” you scowled. “You think I can’t see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean grunted.

“He's a substitute for your dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that.” You stepped closer to Dean, face set angrily.

Dean wasn’t backing off. “Then don’t talk to me like that.”

The two of you were in each other’s faces, angrily staring each other down.

“You know what? I'm not even going to talk about this,” Dean grumbled, turning away from you.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Dean. I can see right through you. I know how you feel. I lost my dad, too. But nobody can replace him. That hole you’re feeling hurts; I know. But this isn’t what’s gonna fix it.”

He snorted humorlessly. “Okay.” He walked away from you and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He turned to his brother. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.”

You followed him back into his motel room. “We are not done with this conversation.” 

Dean went to respond to you but noticed Gordon was gone before he could. 

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” you said. “Dean, we have to stop him.”

“Really, (Y/N)? Because I say we lend a hand.”

Sam chimed in, “Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.”

Sam gestured to the table where he’d set the keys earlier, but they were gone. “He snaked the keys.”

“Fucking awesome,” you grumbled, eyeing Dean angrily for his trust in Gordon.

Dean then had to hotwire his own car, cursing under his breath about how he’d “just fixed her.” “So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?” Dean asked his brother as the three of you began to speed off.

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm,” Sam explained.

“How do you know?” you asked.

“I counted.” 

You smiled. This was another one of those moments where he reminded you a lot of Steven; he would've done the same thing.

The younger brother continued, “They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge.”

***

A while later, you and the brothers arrived at the farmhouse the vampires had been holing up in. You found Gordon circling a tied-up vampiress covered in scratches and her own blood. 

“Guys. Come on in,” Gordon grinned at you.

“You’re fucking sick,” you growled, eyeing him dangerously.

“You wanna get a handle on your girlfriend there, pal?” Gordon said to Dean.

Dean ignored his comment. “What's going on?”

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

Dean sighed. “Look, man—”

“Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers.” Gordon dragged his knife across her arm, cutting her deeply.

“Stop it!” you ordered.

“Hey, let's all just chill out, huh?” Dean said simultaneously.

“I’m completely chill,” Gordon responded coolly.

“Gordon, put the knife down,” Sam quietly pleaded. He went to step toward Gordon, but Dean held him back.

“Sounds like it's Sam here needs to chill,” Gordon scoffed.

“Just step away from her, alright?” you tried.

“You're right. I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery.” Gordon pulled out a larger knife. “I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane.”

You stepped to block Gordon from reaching the vampire. “Gordon, I'm letting her go.”

Gordon pointed the knife at your chest, stopping you. “You're not doing a damn thing.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this,” Dean broke in, concern rising in his voice.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“Yeah. I hear ya. And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” He turned to Dean, but kept the knife trained on your chest.

“That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one—”

Gordon laughed. “Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

Dean’s awkward smile wavered. “You did what?”

“It wasn't my sister anymore; it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you.”

“Gordon, I had to do the same thing to my parents,” you said. “But my parents were trying to eat me. I think that’s a bit of a different circumstance than these guys who are just eating a few cows.”

“Then you should understand why I have to do this.” He pushed the tip of his knife into your chest, trying to get you to back up. You hissed in pain.

Dean immediately drew his gun and pointed it at Gordon. “Cut it out.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam continued provoking the hunter. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

Gordon chuckled. “Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” With no warning, he grabbed your arm and sliced it open. You yelped as he held your arm out with one hand and held the knife to your throat with the other. He shoved you toward the vampire tied up in her chair.

Dean cocked the gun and demanded, “Let her go. Now!”

“Relax. If I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.”

“Oh, you motherfucker—” he held your arm over the vampire while you struggled, causing blood to drip on her face. She hissed, and her fangs extended. 

“Let me go!”

“You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.”

The vampire controlled herself, though, retracting her fangs and turning her face away. You softened at the sight as Dean continued to try and intimidate Gordon.

“You hear her, Gordon?” Sam said. 

The vampire was stringing together a chant of “No” over and over again, trying to control herself.

You kicked Gordon between the legs and worked your way out of his grasp when the knife moved away from your neck. “We're done here.”

“Sam, get her out of here,” Dean told his brother. 

He did as told, and when Gordon tried to step toward him, Dean caught his attention with the gun. “Uh-uh. Uh-uh! Gordon, I think you and I've got some things to talk about.”

“Get out of my way,” Gordon told you and Dean, who both had guns trained on him.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured.

“You're not serious,” the man scoffed.

“I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me.”

Gordon nodded, considering. He looked down at his knife and jammed it into the table. “Fine.”

Dean looked at the knife and then his gun. He pulled the clip out of his Taurus and set it aside.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Trust me on this one.”

You kept your gun trained on Gordon as he lunged at Dean. You couldn’t get a clear shot as the two of them rumbled around. You couldn’t lie, they were pretty evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat. Gordon grabbed his knife again and held it to Dean’s throat. “What are you doing, man? You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here.”

“I don't think so, you sadistic bastard.”

Gordon threw Dean across the room.

“Hey!” you said, cocking your gun. “Back off!”

“Stay out of this, sweetie,” Gordon told you before turning back to Dean. “You're not like your brother. You're a killer. Like me.”

Dean kicked Gordon down and hauled him up against the wall before elbowing him between the eyes. He pinned him under his elbow and slammed his head into another wall. “Oh, sorry.”

You chuckled despite the situation as you and Dean began to tie Gordon up.

“You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now,” Dean monotoned down at Gordon. He turned to you when he seemed to come back to reality. “Are you okay?” He put his hands on either side of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You nodded. “Fine.”

He grabbed your arm gently and looked over the cut Gordon had given you. Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m gonna take care of that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” He took a deep breath. “You were right.”

You gave him a lopsided smile. “I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to have a moment with you here,” he smirked.

You just smiled and looked down to the floor. “I know. Thank you.”

Sam came back into the room. “Did I miss anything?” he asked, noting Gordon tied up.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, not much. She get out okay?”

“Yeah. All of 'em did.”

Gordon groaned as he came back to. 

“Then I guess our work here is done. How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?” Dean snarked, making you giggle.

Gordon just glared at him.

“Alright. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days; have them come out, untie you.” He jammed Gordon’s knife into the table behind him.

“Ready to go, Dean?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's been real.” He hit Gordon straight across the jaw, knocking him to the floor. “Okay. I'm good now. We can go.”

As you exited the farmhouse, you grabbed at your arm that suddenly began to sting. 

“I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up,” Dean lamented.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us—” Dean trailed off and shook his head.

The younger brother’s expression softened. “Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.”

“I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t kill that girl, though,” you pointed out.

“No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.”

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters,” Sam reminded him softly.

“Yeah. Well, 'cause you two are a pain in my ass,” Dean grunted.

“Guess we might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then,” the brunet smirked.

“Thanks,” Dean said honestly.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

You returned to the motel to quickly shower off and gather your things. Dean followed you to your room and looked down at your arm. “Gimme that,” he said.

“What? My arm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is our thing now, I guess, huh?” you asked as he pulled a chair up to where you sat on your bed, using your first aid kid to clean your wounds.

“Oh, god, don’t try and make this cute,” he groaned.

“Well, it is!” you protested. “I like how much you care.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you began to work on Dean’s wounds he’d sustained from Gordon.

“(Y/N), I—” he began, “I was a complete asshole back there. I just… it’s what I told Sam, I mean, this changes everything for me.”

“I get it,” you nodded. “Me, too. You know I fucking hate vampires, and I wanted to smoke every last one of them. But I don’t know. I’m starting to see the humanity in ‘em, I guess.”

“‘S funny. Humanity in monsters.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Sounds stupid saying it out loud. But think about it. That chick reacted the way any regular person does with severe addiction. Just makes you think, y’know? Maybe they’re more like us than we ever thought.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Don’t get all philosophical on me; I can’t keep up when you do.”

“Yeah, but you love it, though,” you teased.

“I do, actually,” he said, much to your surprise. “You’re so smart, it scares me sometimes.”

“Whoa, look at you and your compliments,” you joked, grinning.

“What?" he chuckled.

“Normally I'm the touchy-feely one,” you answered, giggling. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” You finished wrapping a bandage around his knuckles. “There.”

He flexed them painfully in your upturned palm before playing with your hand in his. You looked up at him, breath hitching in your throat. “Dee, if you’re not ready—”

“(Y/N),” he said, leaning in to you. You surged forward and connected his lips with yours.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[dimlylittorch]

soooo this is my first like REAL writing for Ghost :3 idk how but this is my longest writing so far.. 6K+ so yall be warned

My Masterlist🌱

18+ drabble MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x virgin!chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader

he’s big and mean but i feel like he would be really soft with sex :((

warnings: slight daddy kink at the end, maybe some insensitive language (fat) it’s good tho i promise, female parts are referred to with said names (i’m pre-op so saying like t-dick is weird for me lol)

tbh this is my first ever like in depth smut so forgive me if it’s bad🙏

You had only recently moved away from your home town, deciding to shack up in a big city with more opportunities. Back home it was hard to make friends- let alone date. Being trans wasn’t easy, let alone being chubby on top of that. You’d never even come close to having a boyfriend.. or a hook up for that matter. But why not go to a big city? You didn’t need to reinvent yourself. You knew you were likeable.. maybe you were just fishing in the wrong pond.

Settling into a small studio apartment wasn’t ideal, but it was home. After moving in and getting into the groove of a new city and a new job.. you decided it was time to try and make friends. Or maybe even a boyfriend. But- we couldn’t set our hopes too high, right? Don’t settle, but don’t expect too much. Something you found yourself repeating constantly.

You’d never gone ‘clubbing’ before. Your home town was small, and the only bars had a lot of old drunkards in them. So you didn’t exactly know what to wear. It was chilly outside- you could work with that. You knew you wanted to look cute. Picking out a fitted turtle neck, you adding a pair of nice pants to wear with a belt. And boots! That made the whole look.

Well. You thought that would make the look. It turns out people don’t really.. wear clothes like that to clubs. Girls in short dresses, guys in plain shirts.. you definitely stood out. Thank god it was a little dark in there as you walked through the crowded club, drink in hand. You could try to dance.. but you knew you wouldn’t be a huge fan of getting shoved around or groped. What did people even do at clubs? I guess it’s not very interesting if you’re not with people.

With a sigh you walk along the back, eventually settling against the brick wall that led into the back hallways of the club. You stood near one of the back doors, sipping on your drink as you people watched. It was something you’d gotten used to- seeing other people live. Be human. Be real. There wasn’t anything as humbling as that.

When you hear the slam of a door, you look off to your left down the hallway. A large man lumbered out of the door, pushing a smaller man against the wall before practically tossing him aside. The larger man had a man or two behind him.. bodyguards? It’s dark and hard to make out much, but you see a flicker of light for a split second.

As the large man walks to exit the hallway, that’s when you see really how tall he is. Definitely over six feet, large muscles with a lit cigar in hand. As he glances around the club, his eyes eventually fall on your small form, shrunk back against the wall. His eyes trailed over your unusual outfit. What was a little thing like you doing in a place like this? When your eyes met his you quickly looked downcast, taking a sip of your drink. God, he was tall.

Stalking over to you, he stops only a foot or so in front of you. “Ya look lost” he says lowly as he stares down at you.

Looking up at him with slightly wide eyes, you chuckle awkwardly. “Well.. looks like someone found me”

He huffs at your words, crouching down every so slightly to be more on your level. “We ‘ave a dress code here, yknow” he says gruffly.

Your eyes narrow and you quickly look down at your outfit. “What?” You question. “I’m dressed nice-“ you start to say.

“Tha’s the problem, love” he mutters. “Ya gotta look slutty in a joint like this. Or like a bum.”

You stare up at him with disbelief. “This- this is the tightest shirt I have!” You scoff as you put your hands on your hips. “You want people to look trashy?”

He chuckles as he looks down at your turtle neck with an amused look. “Tha’ trashier they look tha’ more money they spend.” He muses. “You ain’t spending a pretty penny at a place like this, eh?”

“You talk like you own the place” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tha’ I do” he smirks. “Now- get outta my club. Pretty bird like you ‘ill get roughed up.” He murmurs as he opens the back door, waiting for you to leave.

You look up at him with a glare. “Are you kidding me? What if I want to enjoy myself?”

He sighs, letting the door close and leaning down. “Lovie.. yer standin’ against tha’ wall. You havin’ fun?”

You open your mouth to speak, but slowly close it again. He was right. You weren’t having fun. Looking downcast, you cross your arms over your chest again. “What do people here even do for fun?” You mutter. “Other than getting drunk.”

He hums, standing up and glancing around the club. “My.. patrons” he mutters. “Come ‘ere for booze, drugs or sex.” Leaning down again, his eyes meet your own. “Which one will it be?”

And that.. was how you found yourself following the large man who you later learned’s name was Simon upstairs to the second floor of the club. Of those three, you figured you’d go with the last. Something you’d like to experience, at least. What you didn’t expect, was for him to invite you on up. As the two of you reach the top of the stairs, he unlocks a door and when you step inside you realize- he lived on the second floor.

“Now” he says plainly as he locks the door behind the two of you. “Which team ya’ play for?” He asks as he gestures for you to relax.

“Um.. guys. Men.” You murmur softly as you set your bag on the couch, looking around gently at the neatly furnished apartment.

“Well” he huffs as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring a drink for himself. “I could use a good fuck. But if ya want someone else we got options” he murmurs with a shrug as he leans over the counter.

Tentatively walking over, you stop on the other side of the counter, eyes downcast. “Can I be honest?”

He chuckles faintly, nodding. “Never lie to a man as big as me, birdie” he smirks.

Leaning over the counter, mirroring his position you gently look up, eyes meeting his own. “I’m a virgin.” You say softly. “And.. um.. female. Technically. But I’m a guy. If that makes sense.”

He pauses at your words, looking down at you silently for a few moments. “Transvestite? Is tha’ what they call ‘em?” He questions.

Pulling a soft laugh from you, you shake your head with amusement. “Transgender. But- good try” you smile softly up at him. “You.. think you got someone for me?” You ask shyly.

He sighs softly, setting his glass down and looking at you. “Ya got me. I wouldn’t trust any other man ta’ take yer virginity” he says quietly. “Men get impatient. They’ll hurt a soft thing like you. But me? Been in the forces. Patience is all I know.”

Looking up at him for a few moments, your eyes soften as they take in his features. You can tell he’s seen combat.. the scars are there to prove it. “Thank you for your service” you say softly as you look downcast, cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of being with him. Sure, he looked rough.. but opposites attract, right?

He snorts at your words, setting his glass down. “Haven’ heard tha’ in a while” he muses. “Look.. yer nervous, I get it. But we ain’t gonna do this if ya aren’t ready.”

Sighing softly, you run your fingers through your hair. “I want to do this.” You say quietly. “I.. I’ve been waiting for a long time, you know? I’m tired of waiting.” You murmur as you push off of the counter, walking around to where he stood and looking up at him. “You don’t have to.. be with me. If I’m not your type.” You clarify as your eyes meet his own. “I’m not exactly the beauty standard or anything” you snort slightly. “But if you want to- I’d like to.”

His eyebrows quirk at your words, a smirk crossing his lips. “I’ve been with jus’ about everyone” he muses. “Yer nothin’ new f’me.. if that brings ya some peace of mind.”

A small sigh of relief leaves you, and you feel yourself relax slightly. “I appreciate that” you sigh. “So.. sex.” You murmur faintly. “Right. We- um.. how do you want to..” you trail off.

Before you can say anything else you feel a heavy hand land on your hip, gently pulling you forward into his chest. Looking up you find him gazing down at you, eyes flitting over your soft form as his fingers gently hook into the hem of your pants, tugging them down ever so slightly to feel the fat of your hip. As you suck in a sharp breath, he reaches with his other hand and grabs your own, pulling yours to rest on his hip. His neck cranes down to brush against your ear, deep words hitting your skin. “Yer allowed ta’ touch me little thing.”

Letting out a shaky breath, your eyes shift downcast to his hip where your hand was frozen. After a faint moment you gently start to feel the hard muscle of his hip, a contrast to your own body. Little did you know how the contrast drove him crazy. Staring down at your soft form made his heart beat faster than it had in weeks. Little birds like you hardly ever came into his club.. soft things that need protecting. He’d quickly grown tired of the usual quick fuck he’d find for himself on a random Tuesday night. You seemed real. And you made him feel real.

“I like your belt.” You whisper faintly, brain growing slightly fuzzy from the entire interaction. You’d grown so touch starved that it was almost overwhelming being able to touch someone freely- even if it was just a clothed hip. “Looks nice with your outfit..” you murmur. A black leather belt that matched the shade of everything else he wore.

He chuckles faintly, breath heavy against your ear. “Could say the same f’r you.” He breathes. “Cute little thing.. overdressed an’ all.”

A small smile crosses your lips when you recognize his teasing tone, your hand tentatively pulling his shirt out of where it was tucked on his left side. Slipping your fingers under his shirt, you gently graze against his toned skin, hard with a nice layer of fat over his stomach. You hear him suck in a breath at your touch, and you look up at him with soft eyes. “This okay?” You whisper.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done things slow. Usually he’d rip off a persons clothes within minutes, eager to get a quick fuck.. that sense of release that lasted for only a few sweet moments. But with you it was different. He didn’t want to push you over the counter. He didn’t want to shove you onto the couch cushions. He wanted to explore. Take his time. Watching you explore his body.. christ, it did something to him. When was the last time he truly enjoyed sex?

“Mhm” he hums lowly. “Ya ain’t even gotta ask.. ya could peg me for all I care” he smirks softly. His heart warms when he hears the laugh that slips past your lips, and he can’t help but place a faint kiss to the skin of your neck, drawing a gasp from you. “Tha’ feel good?” He questions.

Leaning into his touch, you nod slightly. “More than good.” You confess. “Would you do it again?” You whisper after a small moment. “Please?”

He audibly groans when he hears your plea, placing another kiss against your neck, this time with more passion. “Yer like a bunny.. all soft and sweet” he murmurs against your skin.

Feeling your face flush from his lips on your skin, you gently reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone like this.. he’d usually put them on their knees and take them from behind. But he liked how soft you felt in his palms as he pulled you closer, your body melting in his hands.

You shyly bury your face in his neck, placing a small kiss to his skin, earning another groan from him. “Anything in particular you’ve been wantin’ ta’ try?” He hums against your skin as his kisses grow deeper to your skin. “Any positions yer pretty little self thinks abou’ all tha’ time?” He smirks.

Feeling your face flush more you bury yourself against him as much as you can. Letting out a shaky breath, he grins when he hears your words. “Doggy.. looks nice.”

“Tha’ it is” he muses. “You’ll feel me real deep, love.. that what ya’ want? Wanna feel full?” He smirks against your skin.

Whining softly, you can’t help but nod. “Mhm.”

“Alrigh’ then. I’ll get tha’ job done.” He grumbles, making you squeak as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he brings you into his bedroom. “Bet ya ain’t never been carried like ya deserve” he huffs as he kicks the bedroom door closed, setting you down gently on the soft blankets and sheets, a nice dark gray color.

Shaking your head no, you can’t help but gaze up at him. “You’re really strong” you whisper softly.

He gently reaches forward, his hand cupping your chin as he stands over you. “Tha’ I am. But yer not heavy either.. nothin’ wrong with bein’ soft. Ya still deserve someone ta carry ya every now and then.” He murmurs as he leans down, his lips meeting your own.

Before you can stop yourself you moan against his lips, your face flushing heavily. He smiles, pulling away and looking at you. “Didn’t know ya could make those pretty sounds, hm?” He muses.

Shaking your head slightly, he reaches down to undo his belt, watching how you swallow slightly, your eyes moving to his crotch. “Ever had a cock in front of ya?” He asks as he pulls his belt off, tossing it aside and unzipping his fly.

When he sees you shake your head no, he sighs. “I’m a little bigger than tha’ average man.” He warns. “Ya ain’t gotta do nothin’ ya don’t want, alrigh’?”

“Okay.” You whisper softly, eyes glued to his crotch. Before he can pull his cock out of his briefs, you gently lean forward to palm him through the fabric. He moans out of surprise at the feeling, hunching over slightly.

“Fuckin’ christ-“ he groans. Before he can say anything else, you lean forward more, pressing your lips to his clothed cock, kissing along the fabric sweetly. He looks down at you with wide eyes, chest already heaving slightly. No one had ever done that before. “Tha hell?” He questions before you look up at him with adoring eyes.

His heart skips a beat when he sees your gaze, completely wide eyed and full of emotion. “Does that feel nice?” You whisper softly. “You feel pretty hard..” you say faintly before you look back down, starting to place open mouthed kisses along his clothed bulge. He curses to himself, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep himself steady. He can feel the heat of your mouth soaking through the fabric onto his cock which was already as hard as it could get. You were practically worshipping him and he had no idea how to handle it.

“Yer driving me wild” he chokes out. “Where tha fuck did ya learn to do tha’?” He asks quickly.

Sighing contentedly against his bulge, you look up at him innocently. “I read a lot” you say softly. “Am I doing it right?”

He laughs breathlessly, slipping one of his heavy hands into your hair. “I think yer doing it better than anyone else has..”

When you feel his hand in your hair you whine weakly, leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter closed. He feels his chest burn when he sees how soft you are- a pretty little thing that just wants to be touched. “C’mere lovie” he says softly as he bends down, picking you up slightly to scoot you further up the bed. “Can tell yer just a cuddle bug.. want ya within an arms reach, hm?”

Nodding quickly at his words, you let him move you up to the headboard, resting your head on the pile of soft silk covered pillows he had. He moves on top of you, knees on either side of your legs as he looks down at you. “Gonna give ya doggy just like ya wanted, alright?” He questions as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it across the room.

Copying his movements, you sit up gently so you can pull your turtle neck off, setting it aside on the edge of the bed, leaving you in your binder. Your face flushes as his eyes trail over your torso, licking his lips slightly. When he sees your embarrassment, he moves his hands to your thighs. “Tell me somethin’ ya like about yourself” he says gruffly.

Your eyes look up to meet his own, a look of confusion on your face. But you don’t question him. “My.. my hair is soft.” You say quietly. He hums, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair once again.

“Tha’ it is. Something else?”

Humming softly, you look down at your body to think. “I.. I like my shoulders.” You whisper faintly. “They’re broad.. for a female. They make me feel more manly.” His head tilts slightly as he moves to look at your shoulders with a soft hum.

“They’ve got little lighting bolts an’ everything” he murmurs, glancing at the stretch marks that lined your body.

“Yeah” you smile softly, your gaze shifting to his torso. “I like your scars.” You add. “I.. I think they’re pretty.”

He can’t help but smile at that. He’d grown to be content with his scars- no longer hating them like he used to. “I think you’re pretty.” He replies with a small smile before leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. Grinning shyly, you can’t help but kiss his cheek.

He lets out a soft breath against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes. “Something ya don’t like?” He whispers. Your smile falters slightly, looking downcast. He can see something pop into your head, but you try to think of something else. “No, no- tell me. Tha’ first thing ya thought of.” He orders.

“It’s embarrassing” you murmur faintly.

“I’ve seen combat” he snorts. “Nothing is embarrassing to me anymore. Be honest.”

Looking away from his gaze, your cheeks felt hot as you tried to put it into words. “I.. well- obviously I don’t look like.. other people in porn.” You murmur as quietly as you can. “I know it’s unrealistic. But.. still.” You sigh. “I’ve never really.. seen anyone with a.. chubbier..” you confess, gesturing down to your crotch.

When he realizes what you mean, he hums, leaning back slightly as he looks down at you. “Ya got a fat cunt, ya mean?” He smirks.

You quickly feel your cheeks flare, reaching up and playfully slapping his chest. “Shut up!” You hiss.

He laughs lowly, smirking as he looks down at you. “Cmon lovie- those are tha’ best kind. Gives a big guy like me more room to work with, eh?”

Laughing shyly at his stupid smirk, you relax some. “I guess that makes sense.” You smile.

“Alrigh’ now- back to business” he chuckles as he grabs the base of your binder, pulling it over your head. His breath hitches when he sees your chest, tossing the binder across the room.

You scoff playfully when he throws your binder. “Hey! Those are expensive-“ you start to say but your words are cut off when his lips touch your chest. You instantly arch into his touch when he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around the middle of your back as he pulls you up into his face, leaning down and placing kisses all along your chest. Blushing heavily you let out shaky breaths, slipping your fingers into his hair. “Si-Simon” you say weakly.

He groans as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing at the bud with his tongue while his eyes flutter closed. He pulls off with a faint pop, grabbing your now slick breast with his hand and kneading it. “Christ in heaven” he breathes out as he starts to suck on your other breast.

Whining faintly, you can’t help but tug on his hair slightly. When he feels the tug he lets out a low moan, the vibrations hitting your nipple just right to make your thighs clench around his waist.

Before he can catch himself his hips start to grind against the mattress, making his arms tighten around your body. He hears a moan slip past your lips and he looks up, his clouded eyes meeting your own. “Ya like that?” He murmurs. When you look at him slightly confused, brain clearly fuzzy, he squeezes his arms around you again. When he sees that same look of pleasure he smirks, moving his arms and crawling up on top of you. “is tha’ right.. little thing wants ta’ be held.” He teases as he presses his lips against your own.

Whining at his words you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. “Mhm” you whimper against his lips.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping past your lips for a moment before he pulls away. “Fuck..” he breathes out. “Yer so touch starved even a hug turns you on, eh?” He muses. “Pathetic little thing.”

When he feels how you tense at his last words, he already knows he’s said something wrong. He quickly pulls back, looking down at you. As his eyes search your own, he leans forward to place a small kiss to your forehead. “Sorry love” he says softly. “Only praise for you, yeah? We can work with that” he murmurs.

When you let out a small sigh of relief, his hands shift down to get his pants off the rest of the way. As you move to undo your own belt, he growls softly and takes over, pulling your belt off and tossing it aside before pulling your pants down to your thighs. “Ya know wha’ you are don’t ya?” He murmurs softly as he pulls your pants off the rest of the way. Setting your pants aside, he starts to tug at your briefs as he leans up to whisper against your ear. “Yer a good boy” he smirks against your skin.

You swear your heart stopped for a second when you heard those words. You felt yourself squirm under his touch, and your face felt like it was burning hot. It was one thing reading words like that- but hearing them? Christ.

He chuckles when he sees your reaction, shucking your briefs off as quick as he can. Your legs snap shut, turning your head away with embarrassment. “Ah, ah pretty boy” he muses as he pulls your hips down closer to his own, pulling your thighs open. “Don’t ya wanna show off f’me?”

Whimpering slightly when the cold air hits your cunt, you bury your face into the silk covered pillows. Your body was already on fire, just from the way he touched you. Being exposed like this was awful- but amazing at the same time. You’d finally done it.. let someone see you like this.

“Fuck me” he groans when his eyes lock on your cunt. “Let me eat him, yeah? Treat him real nice, promise lovie” he says almost pleadingly as he gets onto his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can hold you in place. “An’ would ya look at that” he smirks. “Not even a little wet..” he teases, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your thighs tighten around his head. “An’ why is that? Sweet boy like you.. thought you would’a been leaking for me” he smirks.

Breathing heavily as you hide your face away, you can only whine in reply. You shiver when you feel two large calloused fingers rub against the lips of your cunt, spreading them open as wide as they can go. “f-fuck” you gasp out weakly when you feel your slick start to spill out slightly, shaking in his hold.

“There he is” he muses. “Ya weren’t lying about havin’ a soft cunt, were ya? Little pussy is so tight it keeps all those juices inside, yeah?” He chuckles, slipping a finger into your tight hole. “God almighty yer tight.. squeezing my finger like a vice sweet boy” he sighs. When he hears you whimper at the intrusion, he coos softly. “Be a big boy f’me.. I promise ya can take it baby. Just a little finger.. it’s my cock ya gotta worry about.”

“too b-big” you whine softly.

With a sigh, he withdraws his finger, slipping it into his mouth and sucking it clean. “Ya really are a sweet boy.. cunt’s made of honey” he hums. “I know what I want.. flip over love” he orders.

With a shaky breath you follow his command, moving onto your knees. You look back for instruction, eyes hazy. Before you can say anything Simon has moved onto his back, scooting himself under your legs. He’s also gotten rid of his briefs, his hard cock now hanging heavy in his hand. “Gonna ride my face, alrigh’ baby boy? Want ya to soak me” he says gruffly as he’s face to face with your pussy.

You stare down at him for a moment, clearly hesitant. He rolls his eyes, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down before you can protest. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as his tongue laps at your tight hole for a few moments, the feeling making you grab the headboard. As much as you don’t want to crush him, he makes your legs give out almost instantly, pussy pressed right against his face. You sit there for a moment trying to gather yourself, but you feel a slap to your ass, making you flinch. When you do so your hips buck, and his nose hits your clit.

“Holy fuck” you choke out, quickly repeating the action, chasing that same pleasure. As his crooked nose bumps against your clit over and over you repeatedly cry out, quickly covering your mouth. With another spank to your ass, your hand falls away and he pulls away for a moment.

“The second ya stay quiet the second I stop.. means m’doing somethin’ wrong” he says plainly before returning to your now soaked cunt. Looking over your shoulder you get a glimpse of how his hips are bucking up into his hand, pumping his cock eagerly. The sight makes a wave of slick pour out of you, greeted by and groan and a quick tongue. “Simon” you whine when his tongue slips over your clit, circling the bud before sucking it into his mouth making you moan out sharply.

You can barely make out what he says into your cunt, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself. “fucking christ- suffocate me love” he groans as he laps at your clit. “Yeah- yeah fuck- can’t wait to get my cock in this hole.. gonna suck me in so good, can already tell” he rambles through huffs of trying to catch his breath.

After a few more moments you find yourself leaning over, barely able to hold yourself up anymore. “f-feels funny” you whimper, your hips slowly down but he grabs onto them, forcing them over his face as hard as he can. “Simon! it feels weird” you say quickly, voice slightly frantic.

He groans against you, slapping your ass again. “gonna feel so good baby” he promises as he sucks at your clit. “gonna make you lose yourself, I swear” he promises. Before you can say anything else you feel a large rush of slick pour out of you, crying out as your face feels a rush of heat. You try to speak, but no words can form, only weak moans of pleasure. “Fucking hell- yeah sweetheart, let me drink ya dry” he sighs as you cum on his face. He keeps your hips going, making sure to drag out your orgasm for as long as he can. “good boy- good fucking boy”

Breathing heavily, you can’t help but whine at his words, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “simon” you plead, your pussy sensitive to his tongue.

He sighs softly, a faint air of disappointment in his tone as he pulls you off of him, sitting himself up and moving you into his lap. “I got ya” he says softly as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Ya did so well.. never woulda’ thought ya were a first timer. Yer cunt loves attention, hm?” He muses against your ear. You whine faintly in reply, curling up in his arms as you try to slow your breathing. His heavy hand rubs along your back, holding you as close as he can. “Perfect, you are” he murmurs against your ear. “God, that cunt feels good. Ya realize that yeah? Felt good getting my tongue sucked like that, hm? Fat lips returning the favor.. bet they were disappointed it wasn’t my cock” he breaths against your skin.

As you rest against him, he can’t help but reach down to rub your clit a little more. “Simon..” you warn tiredly, your eyes looking up to meet his own. “Need a minute”

He sighs softly as he looks down at you. “My cock disagrees” he chuckles faintly, moving his hand to his hard dick and slapping his upwards against your cunt making you gasp. “C’mere- gonna fuck ya in doggy like ya wanted” he murmurs as he turns you onto your knees once more. Not having the energy to keep yourself up on your hands, you let your face rest against the pillows. “Good boy.. head down ass up, right? Ya already know the drill” he smirks as he gently taps the tip of his cock at your entrance.

Your voice has become hoarse from moaning, so how your noises were weak and gravelly. A groan slipped past your lips as your hands grasped at the blankets, back arching your ass into the air. He smirks at the sight, letting his tip rub up against your clit. “Silly boy.. say yer not ready but then ya put yer ass up begging for it”

“fuck- fuck si” you choke out when he rubs his fat cock against your slit, the tip bumping against your clit repeatedly. “please-“ you whimper.

“Oh? Now ya want it in? Fickle little thing you are..” he muses, but before you can reply the head of his dick prods at your tight entrance making you gasp. “Oh fucking hell.. i was right baby- yer fat cunt makes it ten times better, i swear” he groans.

You practically squeal at the initial little stretch, slapping your hand onto the mattress as you try not to cry out. Simon quickly leans over you, resting his head next to yours as he whispers against your ear.

“Cmon lovie- yer alright.. promise baby boy- you’re doin’ so good for daddy. ya wanna call me that? ya can if it helps” he says sweetly against your skin.

You let out a weak sob at his words, tears spilling from your eyes as he puts the tip in completely. “daddy” you choke out faintly. You knew you had a bit of a daddy kink- but you didn’t think it would come out for your first fuck.. turns out it helped with it all. Made you feel safer.. more cared for. “daddy- b-burns” you plead.

Simon groans as he slips in a little further, his chest heaving from how tight you are. “I know baby- fuck, i know.. burns for daddy too” he chokes out. “fuck, your little hole is tight. gotta work ya open a little more, okay lovie? half way there”

Whining sharply as he presses further in, you’re gasping for breath from the sensation. You suddenly feel his fingers on your clit, swirling quickly to relieve some of the burning sensation. “That feel nice?” He whispers against your skin. “i bet it does.. makes ya all wet f’me. yer doin’ such a good job.. such a good boy for daddy” he murmurs against your skin as he places soft kisses along your shoulder.

With his large body encompassing yours, you’d never felt so safe. He was all you could feel, completely surrounding you and your senses. The entire world faded away except for him. “fuck- feels good” you whisper pleadingly.

“there we go.. that’s it” he says softly as he bottoms out, fingers still circling your clit. “you did it baby.. daddy’s gonna make you feel good, alright? promise ya- promise it’ll feel good.”

With a weak nod, you let your face fall back against the mattress. You hiss as he starts to pull back out, but when he pushes back in it’s not nearly as bad as the first time. And what definitely helps is hearing him right in your ear. Heaving grunts and groans as his hips buck up into you, getting faster as you open up more.

“God- your fat pussy is sucking me in so good” he chokes out against your skin. “Ya hear that?” He moans, referring to the loud smack of his hips against your wet cunt. “Ya hear how good this cunt is? Holy fuck baby- gonna keep this all for myself- how’s tha’ sound? Letting me suck on this cunt every day? Promise I’ll pound ya this good every time” he pleads against your ear.

Moaning sharply as his balls smack up to meet your clit, you tilt your ass up more so he can get even deeper. “fuck!” You cry out.

As he pumps faster into you, he holds you tighter against him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “please cum baby” he chokes out pleadingly, his resolve slipping away. “oh fuck- please cum for daddy- wanna feel ya squeeze my cock so good- i know it’ll feel so so good, please” he rambles breathlessly as your cunt clenches tightly around him.

Whining at his words you reach down to grab his hand and press his fingers against your clit a little harder, making you gasp out loudly. He feels a flush of slick rush around his cock, your walls tightening around him so hard it almost hurts. “ah! Fuck- fuck, lovie- yer so fucking tight, gonna pull my cock off” he grunts against your ear as he tries to buck against you more, whimpering slightly when he feels the resistance. Before he can move again he moans against your ear, his thick seed streaming into your cunt.

With a weak sob of pleasure you collapse onto the mattress completely, Simon pulling you as close as he can while still on top of you. His hips buck up slightly as he cums, gasping every time he feels your walls flutter around him. “ohhh fuck yeah, take it” he grunts. “taking it so well” he murmurs against your skin as he empties himself inside of you.

After a few long moments he opens his eyes to look down at you, seeing the tear soaked pillow under your face. “You okay sweetheart?” He says softly, his voice hoarse. When you nod weakly he sighs, pulling you close as he moves to lay on his side. “Can’t believe no one fucked ya before that” he murmurs against your ear. “Fucking incredible you are.. honored you let me break ya in.” He chuckles faintly.

When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you and that’s when he saw you with your eyes closed, breathing softly. You were snuggled up against his chest.. and you’d already fallen asleep. He sighed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them over the both of you, still staying inside of you. “I’ll clean ya up after a nap” he whispers against your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Perfect boy.” He whispered before he fell asleep with his body holding yours tightly.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eight.

[seven] [eight] [nine]

a needle stuck, the same groove played.

Today was odd, the energy surrounding you felt off and wrong. You were tempted to not even go to your classes today because of it. It was pouring and gloomy. Normally you enjoyed the weather but something just didn’t feel right about the day. Your nerves were already off balance but now, in this very moment your arms hurt from how tense they were. 

You and Viktor walked side by side underneath his umbrella. “So, meet back at the cafe to finish the slides?” You ask, gripping the strap of your backpack. He hums in response. “Yup.” He nods his head. “Then after we finish the board we’ll have a week of no work in bio!” You clap your hands. You were trying your hardest to keep up a positive attitude lately that it was beginning to feel foreign and strange. 

“Very exciting.” His lips tug upward, looking down at you as you were looking straight ahead. Seemingly zoning out. He’s been catching you doing that frequently lately. “This is my stop, thank you for walking with me with your umbrella.” You give him a quick side hug to which he squeezes in return. 

“Of course, see you later.” He says, you nod your head. “See ya!” You hurriedly enter the building for your first class of the day. Viktor heads to his own, having to rush since now he only has five minutes to get there after taking you to your class. You repeatedly told him it was okay but he insisted. It kind of bit him back in the ass but to him it was worth it. Not minding being seconds late to his own lecture. 

“Uh, Vector, right?” A voice meeps out from behind him, giving him a slight startle. His hand gripped the umbrella a little tighter. “Viktor, you’re [Name]’s friend, right?” He raises a brow toward the ginger girl now walking beside him. She was holding her own umbrella so she kept some distance. 

“Kind of, not really at the moment.” She stammers but then shakes her head, getting back on track to what she wanted to say to him. “Doesn’t matter,” She breathes before she starts. He glances at her confused but still keeping a fast walking pace as he still needed to get to his class soon. “I’m uh, I want to apologize for what I did to you in high school. Telling you those awful things through [Name]’s account the way I did. You didn’t deserve that.” Her chin was quivering like she was about to cry. Viktor was confused by what she was saying. 

“I’m sorry that I ruined your guy’s friendship but I’m glad you reconciled with one another. She talked about you a lot, you went by Ma or something. I don’t know. Again I just wanted to apologize for what I did.” She places a hand on his shoulder with a sad smile. “I didn’t realize the stuff I said caused you two to stop being friends. I thought it was a funny prank. It definitely wasn’t at all.” She drops her hand back to her side. Viktor doesn’t say anything as he stops walking. His heart was racing as he repeated everything she just said in his head. 

Ma… She? [Name]? Angelicsunny, [name] is angelicsunny?

Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. His legs felt like jello and he was truly clutching onto his cane for dear life. “You okay?” Maddie tilts her head to the side, reaching out to grab him, worried he was going to fall or something. He snaps out of it, looking up to the ginger. “Yeah… Thank you for your apology. I have to get to class.” He pushed past her, his feet were moving for him. He wasn’t in control anymore as he got to his lecture. 

His mind was spiraling. And the coffee he had drunk was threatening to spew back up. He couldn’t even pay attention to his three hour long lesson. He was playing back so many memories he had of you. The hours the two of you talked to one another as high schoolers. How didn’t he recognize your voice? Did you know this entire time? Is that why you talked to him? 

When the professor dismissed class he lazily pulled out his phone, immediately going to your art account and scrolling all the way down. Your very first post, something he skimmed over. This time he looks closely. It was a familiar little painting. This account had a different name at the time.

He gawks at this. Not able to believe this was happening. That he had to deal with something from four years ago. Well, he was never truly over what happened. He always looked at his blocked list, hovering over your old accounts. Wondering if he should talk to you again. It was always too much. It hurt too badly. 

The wounds still felt fresh as he thought about what was said. Would you even forgive him for blocking you? Not trusting your word and not hearing you out even in the slightest? 

When he looked back at it he knew he overreacted a little bit. But it hurt, it hurt so bad seeing those words being sent to you by the one person he truly trusted with all of his heart. Even though the two of you didn’t know one another's names or faces at the time you guys knew every single other detail. Venting to each other about life and things like that. You were his best friend. 

Now as he stood outside his class, staring at his phone screen and having to swipe to your chat he wanted to call you out for not telling him. He just wanted to know why you hid it. Was it some sort of game you were pulling trying to be his friend? Maybe hurt him again the way you did before? Thoughts raced. And raced before his fingers began to type at the device. 

—--------------------------------------------------

vik.tor_e- something came up, can’t meet up later. 

vik.tor_e- sorry. 

love.[name]3- it’s okay! no worries! 

love.[name]3- are you ok tho?

vik.tor_e- ya, dw about it. 

love.[name]3- umm ok…

—---------------------------------------------------

It had been three days since then. He hadn’t answered any other texts after that. He hadn’t been showing up to the cafe. You were starting to really get worried. You vented to Powder about it, not shutting up. She repeatedly told you it was probably just school related things. 

“Can you just ask Vi or something? Please.” You ask with a pleading expression. The blue-haired girl lets out a loud, dramatic sigh. “I’ll call and ask right now.” She grabs her phone and aggressively taps on it. Putting the phone to her ear. “Vi, can you do something for me?” She lazily inquires. “What do you want now?” 

“Is that Viktor dude, okay? [Name] said he hasn’t been showing up to their daily date things.” Powder sits up, picking at the paint on her nails that were already chipped. You glare at her, throwing a pillow in her direction. “They’re just hang outs.” You spit and she waves you to stop. 

“Uh he’s fine as well as I’m aware. Little more depressed than usual but it happens in the first semester for him for some reason.” Violet answers, not really showing worry for her friend. Kind of calming you down but also not. “Okay, thanks. Bye.” Powder hangs up the phone. “See, school stuff.” She flops back down, closing her eyes to attempt to take a nap like she was trying to do before you interrupted her with your anxiety. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip, still not feeling right about this. 

“Dude, you can’t hold a grudge this long. I’m sure she didn’t even know it was you.” Jayce esperates toward his friend as he was playing a game on his laptop. Viktor rolls his eyes, pacing back and forth in his room. “I know, I just, I can’t let go of this.” He explains, furrowing his brows. “It’s been four years. It might be good to talk with one another.” Jayce says, not really paying attention. 

“Yeah, but you don’t get what was said. I don’t know if I can actually forgive her.” Viktor frowns. “You won’t know unless you hear her out.” Jayce reminds him. “I don’t know…” 

“Well don’t the two of you have a class together tomorrow?” He glances up to the boy who nods quietly. “Then just talk after that.” Jayce shrugs his shoulders as if it were that simple. “We’ll see.” 

And as you stepped into your class your eyes immediately scan the room, landing on the boy who’s been missing for nearly four days. He peers up to you and you grin, waving at him. Viktor presses his lips together, barely lifting up his pointer finger in response. You sit in your seat, confused on what his deal is. And as you go to ask the professor starts his first speech of the day. 

The two of you pull out your notebooks for the class and you rip the bottom edge of one of the sheets. Scribbling down words before passing it over to your friend. He looks at it. 

Reading what you said. “U ok? Little worried about you. :(“ 

You watch as he takes a deep breath and then begins to write on the paper. Giving you a little bit of hope that it’s not about you. 

He slides it back over to you. 

“Talk after class. Angelicsunny.” 

Your face dropped instantaneously. Your head snapped to look at him but now he was avoiding your gaze. 

He knows. He knows and now this was the end of your friendship for a second time.

only five more chapters to go.

taglist: if you want to be added lmk! @policedeer @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @ang3lz-lov3 @almostdrowningdown @corpsepies @obittwo @bakusquadobsessed @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx

[jennifer-jeong]

haiii!! could I put in a request for boothill x an alcoholic engineer reader who’s personality takes a complete 180 when drunk? Like when sober they’re really quiet and a total introvert but when drunk they’re basically a party animal/super hype(the reason why they drink so much is because it helps them forget about their life problems like taxes and student loan debt, if I had to compare the reader’s personality to a character I’d say hiroi kikuri from bocchi the rock) but they’re like crazy smart when it comes to machines and stuff and even fixes up boothill from time to time

headcanons or a small fic is fine^^

HII I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I’ve just been out of the groove of writing for a bit but your request is so cute and I wanted to take a shot at it. Thank you for your request and I hope you like it!

Fluff + Suggestive | Boothill x GN!Reader A Few Drinks

CONTENT Fluff, suggestive, him flirting with you, you flirting with him, getting handsy, alcohol consumption, pet name usage, no reader pronouns used, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1227

It was a regular Friday afternoon in your personal workshop situated in your home on a planet not far off from Penacony and easily accessible via space anchors. The planet was mostly made up of plains, your house sat near a pond and was surrounded by grass and your tiny gardens that you filled with flowers and succulents. You were an excellent engineer working both for corporations as well as taking on smaller private contracts/projects occasionally. You were currently working on a specific cyborg’s finger joint, putting the finishing touches on the cybernetics before he came to have it attached to his robotic body.

You heard a familiar clicking of boots against the sidewalk to your open workshop door before an equally familiar greeting from the cyborg cowboy.

“Heya sweetheart, how ya been? Hows my dumb fudging finger treatin ya?” he chirped, his voice slightly grainy and robotic due to a lack of organic vocal chords.

You swivel around in your chair, giving him a small smile. “Your pinky was pretty messed up but I managed,” you replied quietly, a little anxious talking to the -handsome- man you knew killed people on the daily.

“Ah, ya always fix me up fine and dandy, I knew you’d be able to help,” he said as he walked towards your workbench.

You gave him a small chuckle at the praise and turned around to grab the fixed finger. “Thanks… now just have a seat on the-” you were cut off by turning slightly and being met with his face awfully close to yours. He had leaned over your shoulder to take a closer look at your work, his hands held behind his back.

Your eyes widened as you froze for a moment, unintentionally staring at him before looking away. He was looking at your work but when you turned away he took the opportunity to scan over your flustered self, grinning slightly at how cute you were.

You always treated him so sweetly, disregarding what he did for work because you knew about his past. How could he not find you adorable?

He pulled away to walk towards the table that doubled as an operating table when he or your other clients needed bigger fixes.

“Here?” he says knowingly.

You nod quickly before grabbing a few tools and setting up to attach the part back to his synthetic nervous system.

It was a painful few minutes of him watching you intently as you worked. He was sitting up, leaning back on his right hand, legs spread as he got comfy. His left hand was propped up into a sleeve to keep it still as you worked on it. You tried hard to not look up at him despite knowing he was staring down at you the entire time, probably with that teasing grin he always wore around you.

Once you were done and he finished paying you (with a generous tip no less), he suddenly wondered what you’d be doing since the work week just ended.

“So, whadda ya doin after closin’ up shop today? Ya ever go out for Friday happy hour?”

You whipped your head around to him at the mention of drinking before looking down at the ground, hoping you didn’t seem too eager to talk about alcohol.

“Y-yeah, I go every weekend,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “really? Ya didn’t really strike me as the drinkin’ type darlin’.”

You swallowed at his use of pet name.

“Yeah… it helps me get my mind off work and shit,” you shared with him, figuring it was fine to tell him about it since you already started to get to know each other pretty well during his visits. It was hard to explain, but you trusted him.

“Huh… Well, let’s fudgin’ go then!” He says, jumping off the table. “Lemme know when ya ready darlin”.”

“W-whoa there darlin’” Boothill says for the nth time after you two got to a vintage looking club in the city. You were stumbling a bit as he tried to prevent you from knocking anything over or getting yourself hurt. You kept bumping into him, grabbing onto his arms or his chest to stabilize yourself.

It was your turn to fluster the man.

After all the times he’d made you shy and bashful, him feeling your hands all over him in this context and not during some sort of repair procedure was really setting off his sensors.

You giggled in your drunken state and dragged him by his hand to the crowded dance floor. The current song was just ending and you heard the first few beats of one of your favorite songs. The crowd clearly also liked the song as you all started getting hyped. You started jumping and dancing in front of him as you held his shoulders. You even grabbed the attention of some nearby girls as they encouraged you and you did the same to them.

Boothill’s expression slowly morphed from curious shock to an endearing smirk as he laughed at your total 180 shift in personality as soon as you had a few drinks. His hands found your hips as you continued to dance all over him while he moved with the rhythm.

It was also in this moment that he realized exactly what you were wearing too, it was a pretty, skin tight top and ripped shorts, completely different from the baggy overalls and t-shirt you usually wore in the workshop.

He felt his body’s cooling system kick in a bit harder.

You noticed his eyes on you as you always did, but this time, with alcohol in your system, you decided to do something about it.

You pushed him into a nearby bar stool, forcing him to sit down and lean against the bar counter. You stood between his legs, hands on his chest as you leaned towards his face.

“Thanks for coming out with me Bootie~” you said with your eyes lidded, batting your eyelashes at him. His breath hitched at the sudden nickname usage that you’ve call him by before.

“I’ve been stressed about shit recently but this is fun” you giggle, “we should do it more often,” you add, looking him up and down, something he doesn’t miss.

He relaxes slightly, hands finding their place on your waist again as his signature grin comes out. You could tell he was still pretty flustered though, he was into it, but still a bit shy.

“You’re always looking at me like that, Bootie,” you say as you trace a finger on the underside of his jaw, making him look at you. “I don’t say it when I’m not drunk… but I hope y’know I don’t mind it,” you say with a smile and lidded eyes. Your finger trails off the bottom of his chin as he ever so slightly chases your touch.

You giggle again at his reactions to you, feeling a bit giddy knowing that he was as into you as you were into him.

You push off him to run back to the dance floor, calling out to him with the nickname you just gave him.

The cowboy adjusts his hat before blinking a few times, smiling, and exhaling the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He follows you back to the dance floor as he thinks “I’m fudged.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[photmath]

Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent

Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!

As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.

“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.

“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.

“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”

You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”

Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.

Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.

It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.

It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.

“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.

You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”

“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.

Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”

“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”

You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”

He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”

“We saw each other last month.”

“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.

He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”

“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.

You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.

“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.

Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—

“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.

Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”

“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”

“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”

Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.

You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“Who do you have?” he asks.

“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”

He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.

“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.

Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.

“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.

It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.

Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.

Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.

Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!

Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.

You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.

“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.

“We’re good…right?”

His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”

“I can’t just rest my arm?”

Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.

“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.

“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”

“Trent—”

“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”

“What?” you exasperate.

He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”

Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.

Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.

But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.

“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”

The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.

“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”

And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.

“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.

“Trent,” you squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”

“I missed them too.”

There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.

His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.

You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”

“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.

You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.

-

In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.

As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.

“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.

“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”

“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Trent.”

-

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.

His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.

Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.

His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”

“You hurt,” you whisper.

“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”

“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.

“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.

You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”

Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”

“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.

He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.

And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.

“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”

Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”

What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.

“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.

Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”

An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”

“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”

Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”

He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.

You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”

Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”

“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.

His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.

“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.

Jesus.

You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.

He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.

“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.

You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.

With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.

Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.

His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.

Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.

Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.

His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.

He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”

“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.

He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”

“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”

He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”

“I helped you, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”

He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.

-

Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.

Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.

Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”

Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.

“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”

“What?” Trent feigns.

“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.

Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”

The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.

Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.

One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.

Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.

You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.

Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.

You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.

“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.

You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”

For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.

Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.

“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.

Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”

You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”

He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.

----

Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.

[i-love-ptv]

(Coco) Nuts For You 𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Coconuts n cuteness with your lovely JJ

Fluff! + One sexual innuendo ;)

(Not proofread I fear..)

Wc: 583

An: Hi Babies!!!! I’ve missed you all so so much! Sorry for the long break, but I think it was def needed for me. Here’s this small fic so I can get back into the groove of things! xx

feedback is always appreciated <33

“Hey J?” You murmur.

“Hm?”

“Ya know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, well that’s never good, is it?” He sasses heartily.

“Shut up. It’s basically been scientifically proven that i’m smarter than you,” you say while giving a slight kick to his shin under the table.

JJ chuckles, “Whatever helps you sleep at night cupcake, now what were you saying?”

“Oh right! I was thinkin’, if you were a fruit, you’d totally be a coconut!” You say with glee, with a sense of urgency.

“…Yeah? And why’s that baby?” He asks as he pops another fry into his mouth; his voice filled with amusement while he slightly tilts his head to the side in a puppy-like manner.

You hold your index finger in the air, signaling for him to ‘hold on’ while you sip on your crisp coke.

“Well I dunno, I just think it fits you. I mean, coconuts are hard ‘n tough on the outside, but they’re so, so sweet on the inside, ya know?!” You say as you reach over and grab one of his fries in his basket.

You continue shortly, “Like they’re kinda hard to open at first, takes you a ‘lil to get it, but it’s worth it at the end.” You finish, with a shy glance up to the blonde.

“…..Or maybe it’s jus’ cause you have a big ass head.” You say through snickers, which turn into full-blown laugh when you watch disbelief wash over your boyfriend’s face.

“Oh, you little-” He cuts his shout off quickly, noticing a few other customers in The Wreck looking over; some with a snarl.

This only makes you both giggle louder. Whenever you were with JJ, it felt as if nothing mattered, as if you were both in your own little world, together. Being with the boy made you stop caring about what others thought of you, it wasn’t easy persay, and you’ll always thank JJ for helping you get out of your shell.

“Way to ruin the moment, and you know what, I’m gonna ignore what you just said. That just may be the corniest thing you’ve ever said, hun.”

“Shush, you. It’s not a bad thing,” you mumble out.

“I’m glad that you’re comfortable enough with me to let your guard down, to let me care for you like you deserve.” You say softly, as you link your pinkies together over the wooden table.

JJ displays a full smile after this, letting his canines show brightly.

“I think you’d be a peach,” he says with a smirk as he fixes his red backwards cap.

“Oh yeah? Why?” You say with a similar look, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

“It’s ‘cause your butt is like two round peaches together. Or maybe a watermelon, ya know, cause I love your sweet taste, if you catch my drift.” JJ says as he releases laughter that could fill the room alone.

“Jesus Christ JJ! God, I think you’re the one ruining the moment now!” You screech out, as you throw his fries at his face, in a way to somehow silence him before you get a complaint from your shared friend Kiara.

JJ’s head is tilted back while his hands rest on his stomach. You peer at him over your glass, and wonder how you got so lucky.

You don’t know what god you somehow pleased, but you’ll endlessly be grateful for them allowing you to wiggle your way into JJ’s heart.

No matter what, it’ll always just be the two of you, in your own little world, together.

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt6]

a/n: this was truly a test in writing fear and grief :D do let me know if i succeeded or failed

contents: graphic descriptions of bodily wounds and assault bc good times never last :’)

wc. 1.5k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 5

drip.

drip.

drip.

thump.

you aren’t initially alerted by the noise, still bleary-eyed from sleep as you leave your room, on the move to the galley solely due to the dryness of your throat. Ace had been stirred awake by you wriggling yourself free from underneath him just a minute ago.

“don’t go…” he’d slurred, long fingers grasping weaky at your shorts. you told him you were too thirsty to fall back asleep and that you’d be back before he knew it. now, as you make your way to the open deck, you wish you’d listened to him.

on the ground lays a limp body surrounded by a pool of thick, red blood. the life-sustaining substance seeping into the very grooves of the same wooden planks you’ve stepped on every day for nearly three years now. your blood runs cold when you recognise that signature hairstyle.

Thatch…?

his skin is deathly pale and his body completely unmoving as he lays face-up on the floor. even through the darkness of the night, you can see faint bruises forming on the exposed parts of his skin and the countless gaping wounds decorating his torso. the one in his chest is so large you swear you catch a glimpse of his ribs. his cold lifeless eyes are blasted wide open as a lone knife lays near his feet, drenched in blood.

“Thatch…?” you murmur, the name slips past your lips but you’re suddenly so breathless it barely comes out as a sound. “Thatch?”

he doesn’t respond.

a handful of seconds stretch into an infinite number of years as an unimaginably cold feeling washes over your entire body and goosebumps ripple over every inch of skin. you feel yourself begin to sweat in spite of the frigid night air as your lips part to make way for a cry for help.

but before any sound comes out, a loud bang reverberates through your head just a split second before you feel something hard collide with the back of your skull. the impact knocks the wind straight out of your lungs as you fall to your knees. unable to get your bearings in time, you feel yourself get flipped over as effortlessly as one would do with a ragdoll before your assailant slams your head against the deck as one large hand covers your mouth while the other clutches your throat.

you flail your arms and legs as panic sinks into your very bones, your eyes burning with tears not only from grief but also fear. your vision begins to blur at the edges as the grip around your esophagus tightens slowly but surely and though you try your best to make out the face of your attacker, it’s only when he speaks do you fully realise who it is.

“it’s nothin’ personal, kid,” Teach whispers as he pins you underneath him. “yer just at the wrong place at the wrong time… but now that i think about it… we wouldn’t be ‘ere if ya just gave me the Fruit, would we?”

it was during a recon mission with Ace when you found the Devil Fruit. it had been sitting so innocently on the ground–partially hidden by blades of grass–that you nearly missed it entirely had it not been for its distinct colour.

word that you’d found a new Devil Fruit spread across the Moby Dick like a hungry blaze the moment you stepped foot on deck with it cradled in your arms. while many either congratulated you or joked lightheartedly about how unfair it was that you’d found two, others were inclined to give bartering a shot, seeing as you “couldn’t eat this one anyway.”

as much as you were tempted by their offers of taking up your night shift for the rest of your life or being your personal bodyguard–Ace in particular had a big problem with that one–you quickly decided it would simply be a gift.

“i can’t just give it to anyone,” you replied with a laugh when Teach asked if you could perhaps give it to him. “it’ll have to be for someone special. it could potentially be so life-changing, y’know?”

he agreed and didn’t push any further.

Teach grins down at you when he catches how your eyes widen at the revelation.

“that’s right, girly,” he sneers almost gleefully, “you got Thatch killed, didn’t ya? ya wanted so badly to make it some sentimental present but instead ya doomed him the moment you gave him the Fruit.” 

you try to shake your head as the sheer overwhelming grief at the accusation wracks your brain while your lungs continue to fight for air that’s so painfully out of reach. fresh, hot tears gather at your eyes even faster than before as you fight to stay awake against all odds.

“if ya just gave it to me like i asked,” Teach leans down closer to your face, pinning you even harder against the cold wooden floor, “i wouldn’t even have thought of killin’ ‘im.”

“are you sure, (Y/N)?” the head chef asked, eyes widened almost comically at the sight of the Fruit sitting in your hands as you offered it to him. “i don’t feel like i deserve something so special,” he admitted as he scratched the back of his head.

“don’t be silly,” you replied, shoving it into his hands. “you take such good care of all of Pops and all of us. i know you’ve always been interested in having Devil Fruit powers yourself so here’s your chance.”

“thank you, (Y/N). truly.” Thatch pulled you into a tight hug, nearly squishing the Fruit in between your bodies. “i’m touched you think so highly of me.”

“of course i do… and now you won’t have to be jealous of Marco, Ace and me anymore either!”

“hey now.” he pulled away with a smile on his face before he reached out to pinch your nose lightly–a gesture he adopted soon after you first joined the crew. “don’t say the truth so loud.”

“take one last look, (Y/N).” Teach jerks your head abruptly to the right so that Thatch’s body is in plain view. “this is my farewell gift to ya before i go.” although your vision is blurred by the never ending stream of tears, his bloodied face flashes across your eyes as clear as day. 

Thatch… i’m so, so sorry.

“tell Whitebeard this is what’ll happen to his precious family if anyone comes after me, got it? that’s if ya live, ‘course.” Teach lifts your head off the ground just to slam it back down against the deck.

once. 

twice.

after the third time, you feel something warm seeping into your hair. it’s only when he lets you go do you realise you’re not lying in a pool of your own blood.

gasping desperately for air, you choke and writhe as every breath sends an unbearably sharp pain down your throat and through your skull. your vision blurs in and out of focus as you feel as if the world is spinning on its axis. you slump onto your side, the warm wetness of your blood staining your cheek as you stare straight ahead at your friend’s body.

a fresh wave of anguish washes over your entire being and, against all common sense, you begin to inch closer to Thatch, your bruised muscles screaming at you to stop. broken sobs force their way out of your crushed esophagus and you nearly pass out from the physical agony alone.

“please…” you croak, “please, Thatch… wake up.” unable to move any more, your body slumps uselessly as you lay on your side, just an arm’s length away from Thatch’s body.

“wake up…” you babble repeatedly as the realisation that he’s truly, actually dead because of you begins to fully sink in. “wake up. wake up. wake up.”

in midst of your grief, you fail to notice the familiar numbing, tingling sensation from your Devil Fruit ability blooms across your tongue.

“wake up… please, you can’t be dead… wake up!” you raise your volume with every syllable, as if death was simply something you can startle someone awake from. 

before you know it, you start screaming.

“wake up w̸a̷k̴e̶ ̵u̶p̵ ̸ẁ̸̧a̷̙̓k̶̹̓e̴͎̎ ̴̢̅u̸̡̕p̷͍̊ ̴̰̀W̸̬̾͑A̶͜͝Ḵ̷̯̌͆Ę̶̺̊͠ ̶͙̪̀Ṷ̵̀͗P̶̦̓͝ NOW”

a searing pain rips through your throat as you begin to cough up blood. a loud ringing noise reverberates through your brain and you nearly begin to choke on air from how sudden the sensation hits you. you’re used to your Devil Fruit ability wearing down your throat but never like this.

thump.

Thatch’s dead body jolts for a split second before it contorts almost violently as he sucks in desperate sips of air through gritted teeth, pausing only when his head turns and his bloodshot eyes meet yours.

“Thatch…?” you whisper hoarsely as a deathly chill runs down your spine. 

tears begin to well up in his eyes as he struggles to move his arm, barely shifting it enough so that his cold hand brushes against the tip of your nose. Thatch attempts to say something, his bloodstained lips shivering as they open and close. “... (Y/N)...” is all he manages before the light leaves his eyes once more.

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[fandomnerd9602]

Under the Stars

Country!Wanda x Reader

Adjusting to life on the Maximoff ranch was made a little easier with the love of your life, Wanda, showing you the ropes. The two of you got into a nice groove.

The schedule was pretty simple: 5:00 - Wake up, a little cuddle session. 6:00 - feed the animals and have breakfast. 8:00 - work remotely till 12. 12:00 - lunch time and snuggles with your gal. 4:00 - finish work and help out Wanda and her band with their next song and band practice. 6:00 - dinner. 7:00 - movie or old sitcom and more cuddles. 8:00 - go to bed with your country girl in your arms.

But then there came the weekends. Two whole days of fun for you and your country girl. Your future brother in law Piet loved having you on the ranch with him. With his sister distracted, he had more time to spend with his gal Crystal. And this coming weekend was one such occasion.

Saturday morning came and he tossed the house keys at you. "Crystal's Pa is out of town. I'm gonna head over and see where she needs the help. Try not to burn the house down. I'll see ya Sunday morning for church"

"Why? You gonna need forgiveness after tonight?" Wanda chuckles at her brother, earning a blush from him.

"Oh please" he rolls his eyes, "I heard your night practicing. You need forgiveness more than me"

You and your country girl couldn't help but blush. He wasn't wrong. And so with that, Piet left.

Wanda took a hold of your hand, "come on city boy! We got a whole day of fun!" She practically pulled you out the door.

First your country gal took you riding thru the open range on horseback. The two of you spent hours just talking about what you wanted to do in the future, what the next big steps were for Wanda and her band, all the while whispering words of love and affirmation to one another.

"You always know what to say, don't ya?" She giggled as the two of you share a picnic lunch.

"It's the truth, ain't it?" you responded. The country twang was starting to come in a little. Piet would blame it on Wanda's tongue roaming your mouth so much.

By the evening, you two ended up curled up in a shared sleeping bag under the stars in the back of Wanda's pick up truck. You got a little campfire going.

"This is the life. The only one I want with you" She nuzzles your neck. You kiss the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"The best life" you whispered back.

Wanda looks to you a little nervous, "got a new song I wanted to test out. Mind if I...?"

"I love being your test dummy" you flashed her a gentle smile.

"Well you are my dummy" she giggled back as she pulled out her guitar.

She continued strumming her guitar, the fire pit gently illuminating her soft features. (You're Still the One by Shania Twain)

Looks like we made it Look how far we've come, my baby We mighta took the long way We knew we'd get there someday

They said, "I bet they'll never make it" But just look at us holding on We're still together, still going strong

Mm (you're still the one) You're still the one I run to The one that I belong to You're still the one I want for life (You're still the one) You're still the one that I love The only one I dream of You're still the one I kiss goodnight

She leans against you. Taking in your scent. Everything about you. Wanda wished more than anything that she could freeze this moment in time.

Yeah (you're still the one) You're still the one I run to The one that I belong to You're still the one I want for life, oh yeah (you're still the one) You're still the one that I love The only one I dream of You're still the one I kiss goodnight

I'm so glad we made it Look how far we've come, my baby

She looks to you and smiles. "I love you, my city boy" her southern country drawl melts your heart.

You kiss her forehead tenderly, "I love each and every moment I can spend with you, my country girl."

You and your country gal arrived back at the old homestead. The nearby clock read 9:00.

"I wanna do one last thing tonight" Your country gal looks at you, hoping softly.

"Oh yeah? What?"

"I wanna build a couch fort with you" her soft voice giggles as the two of you race, grabbing every couch cushion pillow you could. You build more of a couch cave but it led out right by the TV.

The two of you rolled out the sleeping bag from earlier and cuddled there in your little couch cave, watching old sitcoms into the early morning hours.

Piet and Crystal came by the next day around 7:00am. He was a little tired, Crystal kept him up most of the night. "Wanda? Y/N?" He asked softly. His eyes caught sight of the couch cave.

He peeked inside and saw you and Wanda all cuddled up in your pjs, like two kids on a weekend morning. Piet couldn't help but grin.

"What?" Crystal asks with a smile.

"We can all go to a later service." He smiles back at his gal, "let them sleep a little longer."

Life on the Maximoff ranch was always full of little moments of fun and excitement. A little slower than modern city life but it offered it blend of memorable moments and loved ones that you were happy to call your family.

And Wanda does make quite the cuddler.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @aloneodi @abimess @family-house-of-m @holiday-house-of-m @russianredassassin @multi-fandom-enjoyer @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @iamnicodemus @kingofthelizardpeople @ab1nsur

[kairiscorner]

making miguel blush by touching his muscles and teasing him w over dramatic “ooh” and “ah’s” 🤭🤭

i like the way you think anon :> (tbh this is what i had in mind for reader in the jealous miggy fic, MAYBE I'LL WRITE A BONUS SCENE TO THE ORIGINAL FIC, WOULD Y'ALL LIKE THAT ...)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

one way to get you to shut up. – miguel o'hara x reader

miguel never usually lets anybody touch him, let alone get up close and personal with him; but you were always the only one he permitted to get closer to him, to be within a closer proximity, because... your presence was calming, comforting to him—dare he say being in your presence is proof that he interacts with other human beings and doesn't stay cooped up in that dim, dark office of his like a hermit. though the worst part about being in your presence is that you knew every way to push his buttons, to send him over the edge with your snarky, cocky demeanor. maybe you meant to, maybe you didn't, but the way you spoke to him whenever he let you touch him... hell, the way you even did touch him was so hypnotic, enticing... it was hard to deny, it did something to miguel.

"wow, miggy... you have quite the biceps." you'd purr to him with a cheeky grin on your face as you ran you soft fingers up and down the curves of his bulging muscles. miguel nodded, knowing you had much more than that to say about his build. you sighed as you soon brought your other hand to caress the grooves and bumps of his arm. your hands made their way to his broad shoulders, with you whispering all sweetly how massive his frame looked. you gently ran your fingers over his chest and gave a small, "ooh..." at the feeling of his pectoral muscles that were underneath the nanotech suit. you repeated this cycle of teasing miguel for his beautifully sculpted frame, making sure every bit of him was touched and admired greatly, mainly with little "ah"s and "ooh"s.

his breath kept hitching in his chest and throat, his commanding voice that was about to tell you to shut up, to get your hands off him in a low growl was silenced every time he heard you praise every bit of his excellent figure. his breath came out all raggedy and labored, his exhale shook as it left his body, in unison with you sighing as you teased how delectable his muscles seemed underneath that suit. "c'mon, miggy... give me a fun time, would ya?" you asked him with a giggle as miguel seized your hand that reached out for his face and stared down at you with a hint of red in those dashing, yet deadly, eyes of his. his face remained stoic as a statue as he leaned in closer to you, his breath hot and beating against your face as he practically snarled his answer: "don't be too bold with me now."

and with that, you had finally been silenced. miguel's face was flustered and had a forced expression of sternness on it—but deep down... he had yearned for you to touch him again, to praise him for his one of a kind body that you loved feeling up and sneaking glances of, and feeling your lips against his as you told him you... loved him, not just for his body, but for who he is. even if the guy he is was pretty intimidating and no-nonsensical, he yearned for the day when you could quit the teasing (or keep teasing him until he melts out of sheer embarrassment) and just... kiss him already, make him yours; his body, his mind, his heart, his life—he'd give it all to you in a heartbeat.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @capnshtfce @fictarian @yuridopted0 @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @simsrandomstuff @fable-library @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[majinbangus]

Majin~ idk if my original ask sent so I'm gonna send it again just in case, Tumblr must find my asks delicious bc they get eaten like 85% of the time 🥲

Hello! Idk it you're taking requests now, or if you've already done this prompt/theme before, but I was wondering what it'd be like to be one of the many people Johnny flirts with on base, and you brush it off bc he's such a flirt. And yes, while Johnny will flirt with just about anyone bc thats his default setting, he's low-key going out of his mind bc he wants you to see that with you, it's different! It's genuine and sincere! What will it take for you to realize that the only person he's got a huge crush on is you?

Idk just wanted to see this from your perspective! No worries if you don't feel like writing anything for this, still love ya!! 😘

hey anon, sorry for the wait, getting my groove back slowly, but here it is. i might do another version of this some other time tho bc i had another vision for it but ended up with this

You don't know why he's been so affectionate with you lately. His playful flirting has gotten excessive, too. It's weird. He's being weird.

It's not like you dislike the attention, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it. That's just how he is. You know you're firmly designated as ‘friend’ in his eyes. A painful fact you've known ever since he made that comment to his ex about never seeing you in a different light because you ‘weren't his type.’ 

Yeah, that stung a bit, and you were a little offended, but that was more ego talking and less romantic feelings at the time. 

Unfortunately, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Yours, specifically.

You don't quite remember when exactly it happened, but you know it was sometime during the last few months of his last relationship. That was an agonizing time, and over a year since the end of that relationship plus several flings later, you're still pathetically pining over a man who will never see you as anything more than a friend because quote ‘he could never be attracted to someone who wasn’t his type’ unquote.

Now, you have to put on a smile and pretend it doesn't make your heart malfunction whenever he flashes that dimpled smile at you, or when he rests an arm over your shoulder while he walks next to you calling you all sorts of pet names he's never called you before. Not to mention all the times he feeds you a piece of his lunch, and when he grabs your wrist and makes you feed him. That barely scratches the surface of his newfound behavior around you.

Soap has never shown you more flirtation than the usual shallow amount he gives to anyone he's not dating. To be bathed in it out of nowhere is a shock to your system. An enigma you can't comprehend, nor are you eager to question it lest you lose his sudden affection. And despite the delusional part of you wishing he meant something by it, deep down you know it's simply false hope making you imagine the romantic adoration reflecting in those pretty ocean blues of his.

“–so what do you say?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You blink a few times, trying to force yourself to focus on Soap and not how bright his eyes are, or how warm his body feels pressed up against yours with his arm slung around your shoulder. He's so close, it's making your heart do fireworks.

“I asked if you wanna meet up next time we're on leave? We rarely hang out outside of work and drinks at the pub.”

“I can't.” It's not that you don't want to, but you don't really see the logic behind it, either. “One, we don’t live remotely close to each other, and two, I have family coming to visit.”

Soap laughs at your excuses, tightening his arm and pulling you impossibly closer. “That just means I can meet them, love! I've been meaning to sight see where you’re from anyway!”

It's your turn to bark out an incredulous laugh. “Sight see what? Soap, the city I live in is shit.”

“Och, can't be that bad if the locals are half as lovely as you, darlin’.”

“That was terrible!” You giggle, nearly doubling over at his cheesy flirtation, but despite yourself, you can't stop the fluttering in your heart, hoping he doesn't realize how much you actually like his attention and stupid charming words, or how you can barely share the same space with him without feeling like your chest is going to burst, or the obvious hearts in your eyes every time you look at him. “Please tell me you use better lines than that!”

Soap pays no mind to your laughter with that lopsided smile on his lips. He stares at you with those stupid, pretty blue eyes, strong arm still around you almost as if he's staking some kind of claim on you, like a leash or collar. You wish that was the case. You'd give anything to be marked as his.

“They seemed to work for me so far.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Aye.”

“Psh, then save the cheese for someone you want.”

“What if I want you?”

“What?” He sounds so earnest you have to stop a moment, shrugging off his arm, and turning to face him. Soap doesn’t flinch, staring back at you with such intensity you laugh uncomfortably to ease the growing tension in your chest. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Soap. You almost got me.”

“I’m being serious. I want you.”

“Since when?”

It’s a genuine question. You’re not playing dumb intentionally–well, maybe a little–but after so long of pining after him, this is something you need him to spell out for you. Even then, a part of you is ready to laugh off whatever he says next. 

Because what you have with Soap doesn’t go any deeper than a close friendship. It never has and never will be anything more than that. Even when you want it to be more, you know he’d never love someone like you. 

“Soap?” You tilt your head at him when he doesn’t answer. His smile has dropped and he’s looking at you with that cute frown of his you’ve always loved. The one when he’s deep in thought, doing all sorts of calculations or analysis on whatever has him stumped. 

“I don’t know how I can be any clearer, hen.” He talks slowly. Low and soft as if in disbelief. “Thought I’ve been obvious with my flirtin.”

“We ‘flirt’ all the time!” You laugh, trying to deflect the growing hope you feel. “We’re friends, Soap. Stop messing with me! Besides, I know I’m not your type.”

Surprisingly, he sounds offended when he asks, “Where’d you get that idea?” 

“What, that I’m not your type? You said it.”

“When?”

“When you were with what’s-her-face? The crazy possessive instagram model.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’, that always stuck with me, so thanks for that.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

You give a derisive laugh. “Then why’d you say it?”

“She was insecure.” Soap furrows his brows in regret, running a hand through his mohawk. “I thought I liked her at the time, so I said it to make her feel better. She didn't like you.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” You mutter bitterly. “I respected boundaries, and she always thought I was trying to ‘steal you from her.’”

Soap mumbles under his breath, “Don’t think I would have complained if you did.”

“What was that?”

“Nothin’, bon.” He sighs, the tension falling out of his shoulders before he squares them again, staring at you in a way that makes your breath catch. “Listen. I know it might be hard to believe, but I’m not takin’ the piss. If you give me the chance, let me prove how serious I am about you.”

“Soap…”

“Darlin’...”

Fuck. A flash of those blue eyes and you can feel yourself hope. Would it really hurt to give in? Just this once? Maybe, maybe not.

Sighing, you inwardly scold yourself knowing you’re jumping headfirst into the unknown, but…

 “Fine. One chance.”

Soap’s never broken that trust before, and from the grin on his face, it tells you he’ll always be there to catch you.

“One chance is all I need.”

[onyx-syn]

How LA! Buggy reacts when you give him head vs him giving head

Warnings: Smut, Usage of Devil Fruit Powers, Female Reader, Female Receiving, Blowjobs, Pussy eating, Some Handjobs, Flirting, Some Degradation, blood mention, Unprotected Sex, Praises, and Pet Names

*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*

*18+ Only*

A/N: SO ITS BEEN A WHILE SJXNWJJD I KNOW. I've been busy a lot lately and lost a bit of motivation too, but I'm slowly getting back into the groove of things! So take this 💙🌹

Buggy

Receiving Head

🌹 Oh the clown of many talents and tricks. Always up to put on a show for his dear beloved fans. But, can he handle the extravagant talent of your mouth sucking skills? On himself nonetheless? Now that, is something he has to see with his own eyes

🌹Buggy himself Is more of a receiver than give in general so when you're giving him head, he feels like he's in paradise. He feels like the biggest super fan of yours when you give such a show, making him feel an assortment of different emotions, overriding him with pleasure

🌹At first when you brought the idea to him, he thought you were just playing around and teasing him, you didn't actually want to suck a ugly looking clown off now do ya? Well, surprisingly enough for him you did want to

🌹This big esentric clown who would torture anyone that stood in his path, was now puddy in your grasp, feeling your ‘lovely’ touch on his cock. It's such an unnatural state to see him in, but you aren't against it

🌹 Buggy's body is sensitive to your touch, shivering as he melts into your touch. The underside of his cock and tips leaves him in a state of ecstasy as you give those parts attention with your lips and mouth. The tip and underside of his cock are so sensitive to him, if you put most of your attention onto them Buggy’s hand will grasp the back of your head trying to settle down your movements but not entirely stopping you either. He loves the thrill of teasing from you when it comes to pleasuring

🌹Buggy grits his teeth, trying to hold back any moans or groans from leaving his lips but it's no use. If you two are in a isolated place, or in a private area such as your quarters, he'll be whimpering, begging and mewling for you to keep going, despite cursing to himself at the fact that he's begging for you

🌹He’s definitely down whenever you now bring up the idea of giving him head, he’s in love with it. Feeling your warm mouth covering him, it’s almost like cockwarming but better (he would tell you this with a cheeky grin). He tries to have some control when you go down on him, he doesn’t want everyone to think he’s some bottom ‘bitch boy’, but you dearly know the all so truth of how he truly is when he’s alone with you

🌹Feeling your tongue slide up the underline of his cock, all the way up to his tip sends shivers down this man spine it's unbelievable

-“F-fuck fuck fuck…” Buggy says aloud, gritting his teeth.

His knuckles become white from gripping his thrones armrests, the wood chipping off from the strength of his hands.

He throws his head back in ecstasy. His Adam's apple bobbing; huffs and low groans leave his red smeared lips, feeling his body become a puddle in your hold.

He feels your hand wrap around the base of his muscled flesh, stroking it softly. It sends shock waves to Buggy above you, as he grips the back of your head pushing your head further into his cock. He can feel your wet lips wrap around his flesh, your tongue swirling around the muscle, teasing the underside of his tip.

His attention snaps back down to you, eyes fluttering to stay open. The pressure in his stomach tightens. His chest rising up and down as the pleasure takes over him.

His fingertips start to massage your scalp, bringing a light mewl out of you around his cock. “That's it”, He whispers, huffing a chuckle before hissing. You licked a pretty sensitive spot of his cock, where a redden vein was at.

“You're doing such a good job sweets… so… so good, shit” He tells you truthfully, feeling the pleasure overrun him.

He grips that back of your head tighter, pushing you down more until your nose is curled in his blue locks at the base of his cock. You can hear the clown rumble out a dark chuckle.

“That's it, that's a good showstopper~”

Your tongue swirl around his veins, tickling them with the small bumps of your tongue. The feeling was unimaginably filled with euphoria for Buggy, gasping at the feeling.

The pleasure built up in his stomach releases, coating your mouth in his liquid. He tries to hold out for a period of time. He loves the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, coating it in your saliva, as you choke on his cock. He loves it, that's why he tries to hold out for as long as he can.

But, in cases like this, it's too much, too much pleasure to leave unrewarded in such a short amount of time that he gives into it.

Buggy collects himself, composing his body as his hips shutter after release and pleasure overrides his body. By then, your positions switch. Now you're laying back, watching the blue haired clown position himself between your legs. A mischievous grin covering his paint smeared face.

“Open sesame sweets, I want a bite now~”

🌹It's safe to assume that the evil jester of the East Blue himself is a moaning mess for the showstopping performance done on his cock by you

🌹If you asked him to leave his cock with you before he leaves for an important mission or meeting, he won't stop you. But it's mostly because he loves the thrill of it. Trying to keep calm and composed as he can feel his cock being sucked, covered in your love and saliva. Even more so when he feels your walls clench on your cock, he has to ball his hands into fists so he can control the urging sensation raging through his body

🌹However, there will be days where he'll like to switch things up. Taking more control during these private moments between the both of you (maybe even doing a public performance if you are up for it~) He'll grip your scalp more harshly, making you take his cock deeper and deeper down your throat without mercy

🌹The cock sucking can be torturous, but he tries to make up for it with aftercare on mornings that he isn't busy. Going down to the kitchen and getting you a nice drink (any of your choice but if it was up to him, alcohol-) and some food, soft food so it isn't too hard on your throat

Giving head

🌹Now, it may have taken a bit to let him in on the idea of giving him head. But giving you head would take way longer to ease him into the idea

🌹Why you may ask? Well, it's quite simple, Buggy is insecure about his nose. He already is annoyed that his nose gets in the way of a lot of stuff and he feels as if it'll get in the way of him giving you pleasure

🌹But in reality, it actually gives the opposite effect, very much so. He’ll be keeping you still, his gloved hands gripping you hips, your legs and thighs over his shoulder squishing his head as he kisses your intimate parts with such ease he’s like a natural pussy eater

🌹His canines are a bit more sharper than regular canines of human teeth, so when he goes down on you, dragging his lips and tongue down your soft stomach, his teeth slightly grazing your skin sending a tingling vibration throughout your body

🌹He’ll dip his face into your thighs, leaving pretty bite marks. Small droplets of blood will be dripping down your thighs, but Buggy, as messy as a performer he can be, cleans up after himself. He’ll lick the blood away, kissing his bite mark, as in a sort of ‘‘claiming’’ way as he puts it

🌹His nose adds pressure onto your clit, the weird small bumpy texture of his nose almost acts like a small vibrator, attacking your clit with such pleasure as you feel his tongue lick up between your folds, coating his muscle in your wetness

🌹When he goes down on you, he acts so fool of himself like he’s not slightly nervous on the inside. Curses to himself when his nose bumps your clit on accident, an embarrassed pink red appearing underneath his makeup. But when he hears a low moan leave your lips, he pushes his nose against your clit, hearing the same moan leave your lips. That’s when he found out his nose has another purpose then being a nuisance

🌹As he goes down on you, his hands love to roam your body. He'll roam your thighs around his head. His hands grazing your skin as his skin contacts your waist and stomach, caressing them as he kisses your pussy more and more

🌹Towards the end, your pussy is covered in his makeup smeared all over you, His red lipstick stained on your folds, entrance and clit, “his painting” as he likes to call it whenever he sees the aftermath of his relentless torture on you

- Buggy grips each side of your thighs, his hands ungloved leaving indents on your thighs. He pushes both of them so they crush his head making him in return keep his head in place. His lips and tongue never leave your cunt, painfully licking up your folds slowly.

A low moan escaping your wet lips as you can feel Buggy slowly start to speed up his pace, his nose putting more pressure onto your clit, sending a tingling vibration throughout your lower half.

You shamefully hump his face. Your teeth biting your bottom lip trying to contain the unholy sounds leaving your mouth.

Buggy, on the other hand, is not to please with your movements. He detaches both hands, making sure to keep his arms pressed onto your thighs. His hands grip onto your hips, putting your humping to a halt.

You lift your head up to look down at buggy, sweat droplets sliding down each side of your cheeks and forehead.

The view of Buggy from this angle is perfect. His makeup smeared all over his face, covering your thighs and pussy in it. The smeared makeup just barely covers the bite marks adorned on your inner thighs made by yours truly. His river eyes shimmering in the oil lanterns light as they look up at you with a mischievous intent behind them.

Your eyes watch in dismay as Buggy retracts his tongue from your cunt, a trail of saliva connecting his end of his tongue and your drenched pussy.

A dark chuckle rumbles out of Buggy followed by a cheeky grin covering his face. “Be patient, sweets, the show has only begun and I haven’t even gotten to the best act yet~” He warns you.

You whine at that, throwing your head back in annoyance. “For fuck sakes Buggy!” You say aloud to him, your cheeks burning from the hotness occurring. “Just fuck me already” You mumble out.

Buggy rolls his eyes at you, "Yeah yeah, I hear ya, but I'm warned you ..."

The moment those words leave his mouth, he dives right back into your cunt, detaching his tongue so it focuses your clit and folds.

A shocked sound of pleasure escapes your chest, your body jiggling with the fasten pace of his tongue fucking your folds and clit.

Your eyes dilate with ecstasy once Buggy detached his cock -situating himself on his knees on the bed- holding onto it as he proceeded to slowly insert it into your cunt, occasionally bumping into his tongue but only a smidge.

A groan emits from him, his eyes shuttering to stay open. With the way your walls feel clenching down on his cock, his tongue slobbering all over your pussy walls and clit, the noises you're making with your mouth and body; he can feel his stomach tighten like a coil ever so slightly.

His eyelids hover open, an evil devilish expression appears on his salt kissed skin. Looking down on your cum worthy face.

"That's it baby~" He whispers to you, going faster and faster as he fucks you with his cock and tongue. "you're doing such a good job for me... Just a little bit, more ... That's it, that's my showstopper~"

🌹 While it does take him a bit to suggest the idea of him going down on you, he ends up loving the act and idea way more then he originally thought he would

🌹 And just like with the blowjobs before, if you ask nicely (mostly because he loves hearing you beg all so nicely for him, it's a turn on for sure) he'll detach his tongue and leave it with you while he does business in his office

🌹 Luckily, with your guys room being close by the main office of his, he still has some control and sentient in his tongue. His eyes close ever so often as he loses his breath, feeling his tongue lathering your pussy in his salvia and feeling your tight walls clench on him, it's a whole 'nother feeling that he's never experienced before, not like this at least

🌹 He loves hearing the noises you make while he eats you out, both together and when you're both apart. In his office he'll start to pump his cock whimpering for you, when he more then likely can walk over to the next room and fuck you. But he likes to be a good boy for you when he wants to be one~

[hosuuuus]

Your highness suuu, how would Johan treat a darling that has, like, a very unhealthy and spontaneous lifestyle? Like, if set in our current timeline, how would he deal with someone who likes to order food at 2am, switches hobbies every other day or so, and just plain sporadic when it comes to interests? I wonder if he’s going to be controlling (trying to change darling’s ways by manipulation) or will he go along for the ride?

im trying to hop onto my post-rurenheim groove again so i absolutely love this!!!

so actually anon i have this entire thing in my head where that is exactly how johan finds his bestie/darling... or more accurately his bestie that he just befriended because he found you kind of interesting and very cute so might as well keep ya around, a nice little hobby. until slowly being his bestie evolves into being his darling as he realises holy SHIT how are you still even alive right now.

I can see it being the kind of friendship where he does messed up things, but with you in mind.

Like if you tell him you didn't get much sleep last night and there are bags under your eyes... Johan doesn't tell you to "get more sleep" as a good friend should.

No. He's not a good friend.

He's a great friend.

So he slips drugs in your drink so you can instantly pass out on the table, and get that 8 hours (more even!) of much needed beauty sleep.