#Oh boy... Here we go again with research...

[fgfirenation]

Me : Hm. I need to come back to Dislyte and see what I've missed about the lore after a whole year.

Also me, when I see the amount of shit I have to catch up with in Dislyte's universe :

[whateveriwant]

I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141

Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 

-🍱 (if it’s not taken)

I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)

Soap

Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go

So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus

Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part

Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you

But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light

Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby

You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all

You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)

So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to

He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal

When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you

Ghost

I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant

It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state

However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree

He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be

He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works

But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first

He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue

He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his

But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it

Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you���ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)

Gaz

Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position

But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed

But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant

That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room

You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down

His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him

It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end

Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.

Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more

Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better

Price

Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want

What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue

That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can

Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone

Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)

But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror

He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow

Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror

There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch

With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)

[shouyuus]

─── Ⅵ CHAPTER FIVE: DON'T HATE THE PLAYERS

violet; 5,460 words; fluff, suggestive content, drama, hockey!vi, figure skater!reader, smau-intermissions, miscommunication, fake dating, lesbian situationships rly hit diff, toxic ex!cait, simp!vi, rival!sevika, inappropriate use of locker rooms, vi is down so horrifically bad its kind of sad tbh

summary: in which instagrams are posted, texts are sent, hockey games are played, and you try your best to make it back in time to gie vi her present.

a/n: a lot of things happen here. LOL but i promise they're not all bad! ALSO. the insta post picture IS NOT PERFECT but it was the best i could do. and i didn't have time to commission an artist to draw the exact image that i wanted :( but i hope it at least gives the vibe of the post. and... it starts getting frisky here so... yall have been warned!

< table of contents

─── Ⅵ "OH SHIT, she said that?”

Vi grunts, rolling her eyes as she drops the deadlift bar with a loud thunk, flicking her belt off with her thumb.

“Yeah. I told her to fuck off.”

“Atta girl!” Jayce says, thumping her on the shoulder. Vi casts him a disgusted look.

“If you value your future offspring, Talis, never call me that again.”

Jayce laughs, reaching down to help Vi put the weights back onto the rack.

“I honestly thought it was gonna take much longer for you to, y’know —”

Vi pauses before straightening to pin him with a look.

“What? You thought I’d super hung up on her or something?”

Jayce shrugs, “Well, yeah. You seemed pretty deep in it when you two were together so…”

Vi sighs, carding a hand through her sweat-slicked hair.

“I mean, I was, but… I dunno… seeing her with that new girlfriend of hers… and just… her reaching out to try and — what… sabotage my…” Vi bites back the word ‘relationship’ so she just makes a vague sort of gesture and continues, “really kinda put things into perspective for me.”

Jayce hums thoughtfully, “Yeah, but that Nolen girl’s no joke either. Her whole family’s been in the military — her dad’s some sort of war hero, and her mom’s the daughter of a politician, I think.”

Vi casts him a sidelong glance before scoffing, “Wow. Mel really did her research, huh?”

At this, Jayce jerks up, sputtering, “Well — she just — you know — her family’s also — I —”

Vi laughs, waving him off, “Whatever dude… but I already knew all that — why d’you think Caitlyn even ditched me in the first place?”

Jayce frowns, “Wasn’t it… because her mom didn’t approve of you or something like that?”

“Yep. We had one dinner together, and her mother made it very clear that she didn’t think someone of ‘my elk’ was worthy of being with her daughter. Apparently, having an adoptive father who owns a local watering hole and coaches college hockey isn’t the exact pedigree she’s looking for.”

Jayce lets out a low whistle.

Vi grabs a dumbbell for bicep curls.

“And… it seems like Caitlyn really look her mother’s words to heart. Cause a few weeks later… well, you know the rest.”

Jayce sighs, “That’s… unfortunate. But hey, look on the bright side. Without Cait’s mom, you would’ve never had the chance to date an Olympic athlete, right?”

Vi’s mouth twists into a half-grimace as she puffs out a breath and flexes her arm up, her eyes focused on her form in the mirror.

“Yeah well — not sure what exactly we are right now so… who knows.”

Jayce folds his arms, “Give her time. I haven’t known her as long as Mel has but she’s still a really good friend and…” Jayce allows himself a tiny, slanted grin as Vi pushes through her reps, “Mel wasn’t lying when she told you that we’ve never seen her like this with anyone else before.”

Vi finishes her first set with a loud exhale, glancing up at him.

“Don’t go getting my hopes up like that, pretty boy,” but she’s smiling when Jayce bends down to hand her a bottle of Gatorade, “hasn’t anyone told you it’s not good manners to toy with a girl’s feelings?” she pitches her voice up at the end, wiggling her fingers through the air even as Jayce rolls his eyes.

A few minutes later, Jayce frowns as he turns back to Vi.

“You’ve blocked her number, right?”

Vi huffs, still counting beneath her breath, “— twenty-two, twenty-three — who? What? — Twenty-four —”

“Caitlyn’s.”

Vi grunts, straining through a few more reps before stopping to glance up at Jayce.

“No. Why? Should I?”

Jayce licks his lips, frowning slightly.

“Yeah. Might be a good idea.”

Vi shrugs, “Yeah. I’ll do it later.”

Jayce nods, “Good. Alright — abs, lets go.”

You’re antsy all the way to the airport, checking your phone every four seconds, your knee bouncing even as the cab driver pulls up into the terminal and opens the trunk to grab your bag with a smile.

You bolt through the doors, thanking the heavens that the TSA Pre line is nearly empty.

Just as soon as you get through security, Mel calls.

“Have you got it?” you ask, without even saying hello.

Mel sigh, “Yes, yes, but it won’t do much good if you’re not here to give it to her —”

“I know! I know — I’m at the airport, and just got through security. Are you and Jayce —”

“I’ll come pick you up at the airport — thank god it’s only 16 minutes away from campus.”

“And you’re sure we’ll still make it on time for the game?”

“So long as your flight doesn’t get delayed —”

“It won’t.”

Mel laughs, the sound soft as you speed-walk your way through the terminal, slumping down next to your designated one with a long breath.

“Alright then, darling. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Mel says.

You make a loud kissing noise into the speaker and hang up, your fingers automatically flicking through the open windows till you come to yours and Vi’s text history.

You grin down at it stupidly for a few more seconds before jolting out of your seat as one of the gate agents comes to shake your hand and help you board first. As you sink into the wide, business-class seat, you close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Your fingers fiddle with a thin gold chain around your neck and you bite back another grin.

You tug out the small teardrop locket dangling from the chain and flick open the clasp. Inside is nestled a single violet flower, pressed and perfect, preserved behind a thin pane of shimmering glass.

Vi makes a round of the rink, scanning the crowd with furrowed brows.

Nope. Nope. Nope…

She swears silently to herself, rolling her shoulders as the crowd roars.

You promised you’d be here tonight.

“And tonight, we’ve got our season’s top two favorites for the NCAA’s Frozen Four Championship — the Piltover Enforcers, and the Zaunite Barons!”

Vi grins as the stadium positively shakes with applause. It’s always nice playing on home-ice. Across the rink, she can see the huge, lumbering shapes of the Barons, and her jaw clenches as she catches Sevika’s eye.

They’d been something like childhood friends once upon a time. But after a falling out of meteoric proportions, they’d settled somewhere between grudging acquaintances and mortal enemies. Where they land on the scale on any particular day typically depends on the weather, the orbital tide height, and whether or not Mercury is currently in retrograde.

Though judging by the smirk that’s visible from beneath Sevika’s helmet, Vi thinks it’s nearing the mortal enemies end of the spectrum today.

All the players line up for the face off.

Vi bites down on her mouth guard and smacks her stick against the ice. Sevika skates up to her, bending down so close their helmets clack.

And for a brief, interminable second, Vi thinks Sevika’s going to stay quiet. But the moment passes and Sevika chuckles, the sound low and hoarse and utterly derisive. It sets Vi’s teeth on edge even before the first word leaves her mouth.

“Heard America’s snowflake-sweetheart’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Tch. What’s it to you?” Vi’s eyes flash up.

Sevika’s smirk has morphed into a full blown grin, sharp as freshly turned blades.

She shrugs, keeping her voice low as the official says something or other to both the teams.

“Well… just a lotta people buzzin’ online about her perfect skate at her competition this past weekend and I’m just thinkin’… man… you must not be fuckin’ her right —”

“You —” Vi nearly jerks up, but Sevika presses in just a bit tighter and Vi grounds her teeth down over the mouth guard.

“Cause if you lemme **take her for a spin, you can bet your scrawny ass that she won’t even be able to stand up straight, let alone skate clean.”

The puck hits the ice as if in slow motion; Vi feels a white-hot anger mixed with something very much like hurt surging up the length of her spine as she watches Sevika’s stick make contact with the puck first. But she doesn’t care — she slams her body forward and feels her shoulder check into Sevika’s chest as they both go sprawling across the ice and the puck goes wide.

They scramble up and take off after the puck, now in Zaunite possession, Sevika’s shoulder ramming reflectively into Vi’s as they jostle down the length of the rink.

Vi cracks her shoulder back into Sevika and the momentary gap is all she needs to break away, circling wide behind the goal. Someone shouts Reverse! and Vi feels more than sees the tiny black puck make contact with her stick. Her body moves on instinct, and she’s halfway down the rink before the others catch up to her.

She allows herself a single, tight-lipped grin before someone slams into her back with the force of a speeding firetruck. The world spins, but a second later, Vi hears the unmistakable sounds of Sevika’s heaving breaths.

“Ha. Aren’t you glad your little girlfriend isn’t here to see you eat shit?”

Vi flips around and before she knows it, she’s swinging her left arm into Sevika’s helmet, knocking it askew.

“Vi!”

Vi’s whole body seizes at the sound of your voice, and she looks up wildly, but she pays for it a moment later as Sevika’s fist connects with her jaw and her head snaps back. She brings her elbow down against Sevika’s extended arm, her free hand grappling to keep Sevika’s head shoved against the ice.

A whistle blows and they shove apart, shaking their heads and spitting blood. Vi tastes iron on her tongue and winces as she rotates her jaw. There’ll be a nasty bruise, but it’s not dislocated, and Vi’s suffered much worse at Sevika’s hands.

Half a foot from her, Sevika is shaking out her arm, looking murderous as the official comes up to point them towards the penalty box.

Vi looks around, and halfway across the rink, she sees you, your eyes wide, your hands pressed over your mouth, Mel and Jayce sitting next to you, both looking worried. But you’ve got dark streaks painted on your cheeks, and it takes her a second to recognize the large “VI” written there — her number, her name.

The world melts around her as she meets your eyes, and you look so worried that she almost laughs. This is nothing, she wants to say, you ain’t seen nothing yet, princess.

But the second is short lived as the official skates over and jerks his head towards the penalty box. She sighs, begrudgingly skating over and settling herself as far away from Sevika as humanly possible as the clock starts on their five minutes.

When all’s said and done, the game is a good one — with the final score of 3-2 in Piltover’ s favor. Sevika gets another penalty, but Vi manages to keep her cool. And by the end, everyone’s sweaty and tired, but riding high, and Vi can’t help the way she once more scans the cheering crowd for your face.

But, you’re not there. The seat next to Jayce and Mel is empty, and Vi can’t help the clawing, hollowing sensation that burrows up her chest from the base of her stomach.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” Margot teases, bumping Vi as they all clamber off the ice.

Vi narrows her eyes, “What’dyou mean?”

Margot only grins, shooting Vi a wink before following the rest of the team towards the lockers.

Her phone buzzes and Vi glances down, only to see a single line of text from you:

come to the figure skating lockers. i’ve got a present for you.

Electricity zings up Vi’s limbs as she pivots hard left and makes her way down the heavily padded hallway towards the figure skating lockers, tugging off her gear as she goes. By the time she gets there, she’s managed to get most of her upper pads off, shucking them outside the door, leaving her in her loose jersey and pants.

She pushes through the thick metal door into the figure skating lockers. They’re smaller, brighter, and generally cleaner than the hockey team lockers. Vi’s never thought herself a stickler for things like nicer locker rooms but stepping in, she can’t help the way that her eyebrows shoot up.

“Whoa.”

“They’re not all this nice.”

Vi whips her head around so fast she almost gets a crick in her neck at the sound of your voice. And there — standing next to the far row of pure white lockers, with your hands behind your back and her number (her name still painted on your cheek), you.

“Yeah?” she asks, even as she drops her helmet on the thickly padded floor and shuffles forward in her skates. She takes her time looking you over — and objectively, she knows it’s only been a few days since she’d last seen you, but it feels like forever, the way time stretches endless when you’re a little kid on the playground and eternity is just another thing you can take for granted.

You purse your lips around a shy grin and Vi almost groans as she notices the bright pink ribbon tied around your neck like a choker. You’re wearing the little black dress that you’d worn to that sorority party, the one that’s been the subject of one too many of her dirty daydreams — her varsity jacket slung around your shoulders.

“Sweet god, princess… is this the present you have for me? Please tell me it is —”

You let out a soft puff of exasperated laughter.

“No! I mean —” your eyes cut away as you shift your weight from one foot to another, falling back half a step as Vi takes a few steps closer. “I-if you want it to be — this can be — uhm — an additional present —”

“Mm… I don’t think I want any other present if I’ve got this one —” Vi says, inwardly thanking the heavens that she’d kept her skates on as they give her a few more inches as she corners you against a row of snow-white lockers, so bright they’re almost blinding.

“I — well that’s —”

“Mm… cat got your tongue, princess?” Vi asks, reaching up to tug your chin back towards her as you try to glance away.

You suck in a short breath, your lashes fluttering as you meet her gaze with yours — dark to light, amber and ice.

There’s adrenaline coursing through her system, and Vi knows she’s still riding high off the win, off the knowledge that you’re here, and that you’re here for her. She looks you over with reverent eyes, her gaze lingering on the dark paint now slightly smeared across your cheeks in a large “VI”.

“I… I got this for you a while back…” you say, pressing something into her chest. Vi pauses, glancing down to see a small black box wrapped in a length of bright pink ribbon the exact same make and color as the one around your neck.

Vi falls back a step to take the box in her hands, turning it over.

“What is it?”

You shrug, a tiny, bird-like movement. Sweet and almost daring.

Vi grins as she traces a finger along a single ear of the perfectly tied bow.

“Can I?” she asks.

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

Vi tugs on the ribbon and it comes loose with a whisper. She opens the box to reveal a simple, teardrop locket set on a golden chain. She picks it up, letting the locket dangle from her fingers.

“Go on, open it,” you prompt, looking both bashful and eager. Vi gives you one more glance before fumbling open the locket to reveal a single snowflake, carved into the thick glass set into the middle of the locket.

“Oh.” Vi breathes, her voice nothing but a whisper. She stare at the locket, at the simplicity and delicacy of it. And then, she looks back up at you.

“It’s — Mel and Jayce helped me pick it — I didn’t know if you even wore stuff like this but —”

“I’ll wear it,” Vi says, letting the pendant drop into the palm of her opened hand. She offers it to you with a lopsided grin. “Can you help me put it on?”

You nod, a bit breathless, even as you take the locket from her and undo the clasp with trembling fingers. Vi grins as she leans in to let you fasten the chain around her neck, reveling in the tiny kiss of cold metal against her sweaty skin as she pulls back.

“So? How’s it look?” she asks.

You stare at the locket, and then up at her, and she swears she can see your eyes go molten.

“It looks… good.”

“Good,” Vi whispers, reaching up to finger at the tiny pink bow still tied around your neck. You suck in a breath, going still against her as she ghosts her breath along the long column of your neck. And she thinks she can almost hear the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage by the way your pulse flutters in your neck — she sure as hell can feel her own traitorous heart thundering away in her chest as she glances from the bow around your neck up to you and back down again.

“Can I?” she asks again, though this time, her voice is gentle, imploring, something like a plea as opposed to question.

She revels in the way your pulse flutters beneath the bright pink of the satin.

“Y-yeah —” you say, your own voice a harsh scrape of sound over a burgeoning need that Vi can almost taste on her tongue. But, she wants to take her time with you, she thinks, so she trails her fingers up to your neck and teases at the rabbit ears of the butterfly bow before tugging one end loose. And just like before, the ribbon gives way much too easily, and something gold shimmers as it drops from beneath the pink satin.

She stares.

It’s a gold chain identical to the one around her neck, with a teardrop pendant strung from it that mirrors her own.

This time, when she glances up, her eyes are wide, almost disbelieving.

Your throat bobs as you clench your fingers at your sides, resisting the urge to lift your hands and help her.

“What…” her voice trails off, disbelieving.

You lick your lips. “Go on — open it.”

Vi nearly fumbles the locket twice before she gets it open, and her short intake of breath is the only sign you get that she’s seen what’s inside. You hold your own breath, watching her face as it flickers through a film-frame series of emotions.

“Is that —” her voice is hoarse; she clears her throat, running a thumb over the glass.

“Yeah,” you say, reaching up to take the open pendant from her, glancing down at it yourself, heat pricking into your cheeks as your eyes settle on the pressed violet.

She’s kissing you before either of you can say another word, and the force of it nearly slams your head back into the lockers but Vi’s hand is somehow there to cushion you, her fingers digging into your hair as you gasp open for her wanting mouth. It’s not a sweet kiss and there’s nothing gentle in the sting of her nails raking against your scalp as she presses you close, and then closer.

It’s a clash of teeth and tongue, skin and sound — your tiny, surprised squeak eclipsed by the low moan that reverberates from her chest to yours as she licks into the hot cavern of your mouth and feels you soften against her — sweet as sun-warmed honey.

“F-fuck princess —” Vi hisses, pulling back with a panting breath as you let your head fall back, gasping for air even as she yanks you towards her till both of you are toppling onto one of the long benches, your legs falling open to straddle her thighs, her hands poised over the round of your hips.

You look down at her, running your thumbs along her cheeks eyes flickering over her face — and the admiration caught behind the fractured glass of your eyes is so obvious that Vi almost turns away, embarrassed. Instead, she leans up to nose into the triangle of your threading pulse, delighting in the shiver that chases down the shape of you, in the involuntary way your thighs squeeze on either side of hers.

She grins, inching her fingers beneath the hem of your little black dress, groaning as she finds the winged hollows of your hipbones and realizes, half a breath later, that you’re not wearing any panties.

“Holy shit — w-were you like this the whole game?” she asks, her eyes going wide with awe.

You bite your lips, cocking your head to one side as you reach up to brush away a strand of hair from her forehead.

“No…” you say, but your voice trails off and you glance towards the side. She follows your gaze to the left, only to find your bookbag sagging against one of the far lockers. A smirk twists her lips as her eyes slingshot back to you.

“Oh wow… so…” she drawls, trailing her fingers ever so slowly up the bare skin of your hips, hitching the hem of your tight black dress further and further up till it’s barely covering what she now knows is your bare cunt.

“You came in here and took them off… just for me?” she bats her lashes at you, her skylight eyes going dark and liquid as she watches you fidget above her. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip and Vi has to physically bite back a moan.

“Maybe I did — what of it?”

Vi’s smirk stretches as she reaches up to tug your face down towards hers, so close you can taste her breath dissolving on your tongue like sugar into tea.

“Princess…” she says, and her voice is so thick with desire it might’ve been spread there with a butter knife, “I thought… you wanted to take things slow.” Her fingers have successfully rucked your dress up high enough for it to gather at your waist, though she keeps her eyes on yours and makes no move to take advantage of the fact that you’re now entirely naked from the waist down.

You shrug up a single shoulder.

“Right… but I also remember telling you that I’m not the best with impulsivity…”

Vi laughs, the sound bright and honest. You giggle, pursing your lips, your cheeks tinted such a darling shade of crimson that Vi doubts rosy-fingered dawn would’ve had the power to eclipse it.

“Good,” she says, reaching up to cup your face with both her hands, bringing you down to tease her lips over yours, her words soft and indulgent, “cause honestly, I’ve never been the best with that either.”

She’s about to kiss you again, content to lose herself in the intoxicating drag of your lips on hers, but a text message alarm blips from her pants pocket and it jars the both of you from your desire-induced trance.

You blink, a slight frown creasing your forehead as she reaches into her hockey pants and digs out her phone. You sit back slightly as Vi clicks on her screen to see a slew of notifications dating back till god knows when, but the latest is sent from a few seconds ago and only reads:

New iMessage from cupcake 🧁

“What the —” Vi frowns.

But a second later, you’re pushing off her lap, and Vi catches a glint of the hurt in your eyes before you’re tugging down your dress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s Caitlyn, right?” you ask, your voice tenuous.

And for a second, Vi seriously considers lying to you, telling you that it’s someone else — that it’s Powder or even one of the girls from the hockey team, but she sees the fractured look in your eyes and knows that she can’t.

“Y-yeah — it is but —”

You suck in a deep breath, your fingers twisting in front of you even as Vi pushes up from the bench to try and reach for you. You jerk away, your back hitting the lockers with a loud clang that set’s Vi’s teeth on edge, even as she clenches her fist and drops her arm.

“No, it’s — it’s fine,” you say, making your swift way to your bag and snatching it up, digging around for your phone before shouldering the straps and rounding the benches again. And maybe it’s the sheer desperation curling up her chest, or the fact that the name had just come up on her screen but when she opens her mouth again, Vi says the worst possible combination of words —

“Wait, cupcake —”

You physically flinch at the pet name and Vi squeezes her eyes shut with sigh. Fuck.

When she opens her eyes again, you’re by the locker room door, your hand poised on the handle. You shoot her a single, broken backwards glance before pulling it open and slipping away.

Vi stands there, held still by the oppressive silence and the bleached-white metal all around her. She’s frozen for a single second longer before she swings her fist into the row of lockers next to her and pain ricochets up her arm from her knuckles, and her fingers pull away, already bruised.

“Fuck!”

Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes you three tries before you manage to punch the call button on Mel’s speed dial. She picks up after a single ring.

“Hey there, darling — well that was quick — we’re all heading to the after party if you —”

“Mel — c-can you come and p-pick me up?”

Mel goes quiet, and then —

“Darling? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“N-Nothing I just — can you come pick me up?” you hiccup halfway through your sentence, wiping at the fat, traitorous tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

Distantly, you can hear Mel saying something and Jayce’s voice answering back. A moment later, she’s back on the line.

“I’ll come get you, but you have to tell me what’s wrong. Why’re you crying? Did Vi do something?”

“No — it’s — it’s nothing — I just d-don’t feel very good —”

Mel sighs, “Alright then, stay where you are and I’ll come get you. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Yeah — t-thanks Mel.”

You hang up the phone and dart into the nearly abandoned parking lot, the crowds have long since dispersed, leaving you thankfully alone. You slump against the outer wall of the rink and suck in a deep, shuddering breath, reaching up to rub at your eyes with an angry palm. You cast your eyes up at the ruefully clear autumn night, the moon hanging fat and low, the stars twinkling with their cold, far-off light.

Approximately five minutes later, Mel pulls into the parking lot, mercifully alone, rolling down the windows as you rush forward and let yourself into the passenger’s side of the car, sinking into the seat with a bitten-off sob.

“Oh my darling… what happened?” Mel reaches over to give your hand a squeeze.

You bite your lips, blinking hard at the dark tarp roof of her convertible, clutching at your bag.

“Sh-she got a text from ‘cupcake’.”

Mel stares at you for a solid three seconds before slumping back into her seat and reaching up to pinch her nose bridge.

“I’m going to murder Jayce.”

“I fucked up — I fucked up —”

“Whoa, whoa — slow down — what the hell happened?”

Vi nearly chucks her skates into the already dented lockers just as Jayce makes an abortive move forward as if to stop her. She drops her skates and buries her face in her hands instead.

“Caitlyn texted me, and — and I never changed her contact from ‘cupcake’ —”

Jayce groans, running a hand through his hair.

“I thought I told you to block her?”

“I forgot, okay?” Vi says, tugging so hard on her own hair that Jayce has to reach out and smack her hands away.

Jayce sighs, leaning back against the lockers, looking over the shape of her. He can’t help the tiny grin that hitches his lips or the small puff of helpless laughter.

“Wow.”

Vi looks up, “What?”

Jayce just shrugs, “No, it’s just — been a while since I’ve seen you down this bad.”

Vi flips him off, “Fuck you, Talis. Yeah, laugh it up — look! It’s Vi! Piltover’s favorite train-crash lesbian, fumbling yet another —”

“Y’know, one of the things about being in a nice, committed, completely non-toxic long-term relationship —” Jayce says loudly, cutting her off despite the murderous look in Vi’s eyes, “is that you learn real quick that you’re always gonna be the one that’s wrong, and that your dear, darling, perfect girlfriend will always be the one that’s right.”

He grins, bitten-lipped and open-palmed. Like this, he looks almost like the politician that Vi knows Mel’s parents so desperately want him to be.

Vi frowns, “What’re you getting at, pretty boy? Spit it the fuck out — I don’t have the patience for your bullshit right —”

“And you know what people do when they’re wrong?” Jayce continues in that chipper, Sunday-morning commercial voice of his. He leans forward even as Vi leans back, the frown digging ever deeper between her brows.

“Uh… cry and punch things and shoot for a new PR at the gym?”

Jayce snorts, but at least Vi’s smiling.

“No, you fuckin’ fratbro son of a — you apologize.”

Vi’s gaze goes flat. “Ah. Right. Of course — why didn’t I think of —”

“And then — ” Jayce continues, raising his voice even higher, a finger pointed up in the air as if he were delivering the valedictorian speech at graduation, before he twists his hand and pokes it into Vi’s jersey-clad chest.

“You do better.”

Vi’s breath catches; she blinks up at Jayce before swallowing around the peach pit in her throat.

“R-right…”

Jayce hikes both of his eyebrows comically high. Vi glances up towards them before puffing out a breath.

“Think you can do that?” Jayce asks, his voice now finally back to normal.

Vi chews on the inside of her cheek before shrugging up a shoulder.

“Dunno, but… I really wanna try.”

Jayce thumps a fist into her chest.

“Good answer, Lanes. Now. Phone.” He opens his hand palm up.

She blinks at it for a second before sighing and digging her phone from her pocket and dropping it into his hand.

Jayce punches in the password without breaking eye contact, pulling up her text history and turning the phone around to face Vi as he clicks — Contact > Info > Block Caller — on Caitlyn’s number.

He hands it back just as the screen goes dark.

Vi stares at the long crack running through the center of her screen before the phone lights up again, this time, with a text from an unknown number.

Jayce barely glances at it before smiling.

“That’ll be Mel.”

Vi’s eyebrows knit as she flicks open the screen. There are two texts in quick succession:

i’ve gotten her to agree to come to the afterparty.

Do not. Fuck this up.

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[avelera]

Going along. with my theory that, "Both Jayce AND Viktor think the other guy is out of their league, which is why they never officially dated." I think one of the misunderstandings that keep them from hooking up sooner stems from how we, the audience, and Jayce see his first encounter with Viktor.

We, the audience, and Jayce see a sequence of events where Jayce met Viktor at his absolute lowest moment. His life's work just literally blew up in his face. Then, when he tries to pitch it to Heimerdinger he's immediately shut down, his future hopes are dashed by his expulsion from the Academy AFTER Mel goads him into talking about magic which turns the rest of the Council against him, his patron (Cassandra Kiramman) abandons him, and his mother calls him mentally unwell in front of everyone in the Council chamber and disavows what she's seen with her own eyes about the magic that has inspired him ever since.

Jayce has lost everything and is ready to end his own life in response because he sees no hope for himself, no purpose in living.

From that perspective, Viktor extending a hand, saying he believes in Jayce's work enough to dedicate his life to working alongside him, is a literal godsend. This senior classmate who is smart enough to earn a spot as the Dean's assistant throws all of that away just to give Jayce at his lowest moment his vote of confidence?

I don't think it's an understatement to say that Viktor saved Jayce's life and from that moment, the moment Viktor gives Jayce back the gem bracelet which was a symbol of Jayce's life and life's work, he is literally giving Jayce back his life and Jayce is determined to dedicate that life to saving Viktor's and making him proud with Hextech. He starts with Viktor on such a high pedestal above him as a result.

Ok, so that's all pretty obvious from the show itself. But what about Viktor's perspective?

From Viktor's perspective, Jayce saved his life, or rather, his career and all his ambitions for this world. When we meet him, Viktor had traveled as high as he can as a poor kid from the undercity, with all his disadvantages, using his own ability. He's assistant to the most powerful man (yordle) in the city on just his smarts alone. But now his life is stagnant.

His ambition was to discover a scientific innovation that would change the world and, possibly, cure himself. And here he meets this scientist, who is younger than him who through an independent study, on his own, has created the miracle which will actually transform this age. And he did it without going through the system (yes he had the Kiramman patronage but he was not telling them what he was working on), without telling anyone what he was working on, without the blessing or assistance of Heimerdinger.

Not only that, but this man is willing to stand up to the most powerful people in the city and say his research was groundbreaking. Then, when everything is stripped away from him, he's prepared to die for his convictions rather than live in a world where he can't advance his research.

I can only imagine this was incredibly humbling for Viktor, to see someone else coming up with the world's most life-changing technology while he was fussing around being an assistant. He takes the leap immediately from, again, working for the most powerful man (yordle) in the city to throwing his entire lot, his career, everything he's earned up to that point, in an all-out gamble to support the invention of Jayce's mind.

And then Jayce is generous enough to let Viktor come on board with him. To call Viktor his partner, even though he wasn't the originator of the idea (and oh BOY is that gonna become a time paradox in and of itself later, did Viktor technically originate the idea when he inspired Jayce with that stone? Where does it actually begin??). Viktor might be an assistant again, but at least he's an assistant to the most important and revolutionary work of this age.

But he doesn't see Jayce's rejection by Heimerdinger in the prison cell, or know what the strategy to survive the trial was supposed to be without the fuck-up of falling for Mel's goading, or his subsequent rejection by Cassandra Kiramman outside the gates, or his mother's rejection of the magical event they saw with their own eyes. He doesn't see Jayce's lowest moments, only the two ideological stands he took both in defending his work to the Council and being willing to die when it's taken from him.

Basically, Viktor could very well see himself as second-fiddle to Jayce in accomplishment alone, then throw in everything Jayce has just naturally, like his looks and his background, and you begin to piece together why both of them might have thought the other was out of his league, and why Viktor fought so hard to create innovations to match Jayce's, or seen himself as flawed and a work in progress until he had such independent accomplishments, and why he would hesitate to confess his feelings to Jayce until he felt he had something to offer in return, not realizing he had already given Jayce the world and literally given Jayce back his life.

[wileycap]

Go see the new Dungeons and Dragons movie. Just run. Don't finish reading this post.

That was SO REFRESHING. GOD.

Some minor spoilers ahead, but frankly nothing that would spoil your enjoyment of the plot:

A man and a woman who are friends and co-parents, who don't constantly belittle and snark at each other and who aren't falling in love? Mwah! Fucking finally. A genuine friendship where they BOTH respect each other! FUCKING WHEN IS THE LAST TIME

And the humor doesn't get in the way of the characters! It's funny, but in a funny-for-real way, not in a research-shows-1-joke-per-48-seconds-is-optimal way.

Like: the barbarian woman goes to visit her halfling ex. Oh boy, here we go, right? WRONG. They have a mature, respectful, heartfelt and open conversation about where their relationship went wrong, and wish each other well.

Afterwards, the barbarian walks out to the bard, who gives her a Look. Oh boy, THIS is it. This is where the dumb jokes happen. WRONG AGAIN. The bard sees that his friend is clearly hurting, and just starts singing Their Song until she joins in. Like. An actual friendship moment. No jokes. It's cheesy but in the way that actual people are cheesy.

It doesn't depend on you being some ultranerd for DnD, either: it's not like Marvel's obsession with pointing out that yes, Steve the Intern WAS forced at gunpoint to comb through the entire run of Waffle Ass Man from the 80s in order to find you a Reference. It's just place names and some tropes that all stand on their own while showing that yes, they are adapting DnD and they are earnest about it. (I've played like 3 times, I didn't know shit going in.)

Earnest is actually a great word. The whole movie feels so earnest.

Fucking finally, a fun adventure movie. I could watch like 20 of these. Just give me, in alternating years, one Benoit Blanc mystery and one DnD movie, and I'll be happy.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Hotel Pool

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: SMUT, fluff, oral (fmr), squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, breaking and entering? Dean's bad ideas

Summary: You and Dean enjoy the luxuries of a real hotel, which includes having some fun in the pool and the comfortable beds

You, Sam, and Dean were working a werewolf case the British Men of Letters had put you on. One of the BMoL, Mick Davies had decided to join you, much to you and Dean's disdain. After a few hours in the car of having to listen to his podcasts and you actively fighting rolling your eyes, Mick told you to turn into a parking lot.

Dean pulled into the lot of 'The Wild Elk Lodge', an actual hotel. You and the boys were so used to staying in run down motels, that a place like this was like a five star resort.

"This place seems a little-"

"Shabby? Yeah. 3 stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suits," Mick said.

"Wait, we're all in separate rooms?" Sam said in disbelief.

When you stayed at motels, the three of you usually shared one room. You and Dean would crammed yourself onto what was typically a twin-size bed, and Sam would get the other bed or the couch.

"Yeah of course. Except for the two lovebirds, obviously." Mick motioned between you and Dean and again, you fought not to roll your eyes.

"Did you say 3 stars? So we're talking fresh towels, little baby shampoos?" Dean interjected.

"Uh-huh... And I believe theres a pool," Mick said walking through the doors of the nice hotel.

You and Dean shared a look of excitement and disbelief. You were definitely going to be checking out the pool later.

You stepped into your room and Dean let out a low whistle of approval. It was nice. Everything was clean and white with a queen-size bed, it even had a fireplace.

Dean set you bags down and started looking around the room. You flopped down on the bed and almost moaned at how comfortable it was.

"Oh my God," you said in satisfaction as you felt the ache in your back subside.

"What?" Dean poked his head out from where he had been looking around in the bathroom.

"This bed is so soft."

"Well, we'll have to test it out later." Wiggling his eyebrows, he smiled and then flopped down next to you. "Damn, yeah."

"Mh, told you."

"Do they make their beds out of clouds and unicorn feathers, what the hell?"

You laughed, "I don't know, but I think we need to get a new mattress for the bunker, cause this is amazing."

Dean groaned. "This is going to ruin us," He got up and moved to pull out his laptop. "We stay here 5 minutes and we're already spoiled."

He sat at the small table by the window and began going over a few things for the case. You stayed layed out on the bed and eventually, you unintentionally drifted off to sleep.

A couple hours later you woke to Dean gently shaking your shoulder. You groaned and sat up to look at the clock, it was late at night now.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" you said, smoothing down your hair.

"You needed it, plus you looked so comfortable, how could I disturb you?"

"I could've helped with the research though."

"Nah there wasn't much too it. The Brits actually did their job for once, buuuut now that that's done, I was thinking we could go check out that pool."

"Baby, it's late, the hotel closes it at night."

"I know," he said, with a mischief that shone in his eyes when he was up to no good.

"So you have a plan?" you inquired, raising a brow and trying to hide your smile.

"Sweetheart, I always have a plan," he gave a proud smile and pulled his lockpicking kit from his pocket.

You felt like teenagers sneaking out of the house, except this time you we sneaking in and you were supposed to be adults. This also was far from the riskiest thing you and Dean had done, but what were you if not his partner in crime.

He had picked the lock on the door in seconds, defiant of the 'hours of operation' sign directly above it. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dark room, the only light was the faint moonlight shining through the windows, but it was enough to make out Dean's silhouette as he stripped down to his boxers.

As you removed your outer clothing, he jumped into the water, the sound echoing off the walls.

"At least try to be quiet," you chastised as you lowered yourelf into the pool, adjusting to the temperature.

You had to admit, this was a pretty good idea on Dean's part. I mean, it wasn't really a good idea, you could get caught at any moment, but you still were going to take your time to enjoy the nice pool. You loved to swim and it had been a long time since you had been to a motel that had a pool that didn't look like you would catch a disease from it.

After a while of swimming, you went to sit on the side of the pool with your feet dangling in the water and watched your boyfriend glide underwater from one end of the pool to the other.

He emerged in front of you and shook the water from his hair, spraying you with droplets and moved to stand between your knees.

"This is nice," he said, running a hand up the side of your bare thigh.

You hummed in agreement , the tips of your fingers toying with a strand of his wet hair.

"Nice being able to get you all wet."

You couldn't help but rool your eyes at his signature smirk that followed that comment. "Too bad I'm not wet and naked," you teased.

"We can fix that."

He slid his hand up higher and hooked his fingers into the sides of your underwear. He looked at you to gage if you we ok with this, to which you responded by raising your hips, allowing him to pull your panties off.

"So beautiful," he whispered, kissing from your knee up your inner thighs.

You leaned back on your hands and spread your legs wider for him. You were rewarded by him hooking your knees over his shoulders and licking up your entrance.

Your head fell back as he began to devour you like a man starved, alternating between long licks and sucking on your clit. It never failed to amaze you how quickly he could pull you to the edge with just his mouth. You were already close when he focused all his attention on your clit and buried two fingers deep inside you, curling them upwards. Within seconds you were falling apart, trying in vain to still keep somewhat quiet.

As you were coming down from your orgasm, he lifted you from the side of the pool and eased you back into the water so he could hold you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and moaned as you felt his bulge pressing through his boxers. He held you for a moment,stroking a hand down your back and letting you recover.

You reached down between your bodies with the intention of providing him a fraction of the pleasure he had given you, when he stopped you. You looked up at him in confusion.

"Let's go back to our room and finish this, ok?" he responded softly.

You nodded eagerly and he helped you out of the water to dry off and re-dress, before quietly making it back to the hotel room.

Once inside the door, you were all over each other until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you let yourself fall back onto the bed. He pulled your clothes off, covering each uncovered part of your body in kisses. When you were both undressed he paused holding up a finger. He slid off the bed and moved to light the fire, casting a romantic glow over the room. After he layed down towels over the bed so you didn't soak it with your still-damp hair and -um other things...

He returned to hover over you, setting his palms on either side of your head. He dipped down to kiss the water droplets off your neck and collar bone. Your body ached for him, your fingers dug into his shoulders as he left a soft bite on your sweet spot. You lifted your hips to grind against him, letting out a soft moan as you felt his cock slide against your clit.

He pulled back from you, it took restraint to not sink into you, but he knew the more he teased you and worked you up, the better it would feel. Instead he reached down to run his finger over your swollen bud to your entrance.

"So wet," he praised.

"Well I mean we were in the-". He cut you off with a kiss and you smiled against his lips.

He dipped two fingers into you, curling them upwards making you let out a soft moan. "I know the difference, I know that this is all because of what I do to you."

He kissed you again as he eased his finger in and out of you. Slow and teasing, not enough to bring you to release, but still causing you to moan into his mouth and he was drinking up every sweet sound. He finally stopped when your fingers were digging into his bicep, signaling your desperation.

He sat back between your legs, admiring how you looked, flushed skin that was still freckled with droplets of water that reflected the light from the fire. You admired him the same. Every muscle and scar accentuated by the lighting. He was perfect to you.

"Please Dean," you breathed, reaching out a hand, desperate to touch him again.

He gave a smile that seemed almost peaceful, grateful, full of affection for you. He slid his plams up and down your legs, massaging gently before moving them to wrap around his hips. Positioning himself at your entrance, it only took him shifting to hover over you and he was fully inside you.

Your back arched, chest rising to touch his. His head fell into the crook of your neck, taking a moment to feel you around him. After you adjusted, you started to roll your hips into him, silently begging for him to move. Understanding your desire, he started to thrust into you. Still slow and gentle, but perfect. You could feel every inch of him, every ridge and curve, reaching parts inside you that no one else was able to find.

His hand moved to cradle your head while his other arm wrapped around your arched back, pulling you too him. Times like these it felt like the air between you was too much distance. He would hold you close until it became hard to tell where you ended and he began.

His pace started to increase, his movements gaining a desperate edge. The feel of him inside you made you numb to everything else. Your fingers dug into his back as you felt that familiar pressure building. Every movement heightened your pleasure until you were crying his name. He tried to shush you given that you were in a hotel. The pressure continued to build, more intense than usual. His hand came up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

"That's it, that's my girl. Cum for me."

His voice was all it took for one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had to come crashing over you. His pace faltered as you tightened around him, triggering his own release. Your climax continued and as he came and suddenly you gushed around his cock.

He relaxed on top of you, trying to recover from his orgasm, but you were rigid with shock.

"Did I just...?" you started to ask in confusion.

"Yes, yes you did," he smiled, clearly pleased with you and himself.

You felt confused and shocked and a little shy. He moved down the bed to inspect the damage.

"God baby you soaked the bed, glad we layed down a towel huh." He pulled the towel from under you and tossed it into the bathroom.

Your hands came up to cover your face.

"Hey, do not be embarrassed about that. That was awesome." He pulled your hands down and you could see his proud smile.

"I've never done that," you said quietly. Honestly you didn't even think you could.

"Want to see if I can make you do it again?" he asked playfully.

"God no, I could hardly handle the first time!" you laughed.

Dean never made you feel insecure about anything. It was nice to be able to explore new things with him. Sometimes he was even more adventurous than you. Like suggesting you break into a hotel pool in the middle of the night, but were glad to be his partner in crime. His partner in everything.

He kissed you sweetly and maneuvered your bodies so you were now laying under the covers.

"We definitely need to do this hotel thing again," he sighed, settling into the soft bed. He pull you close so your back was pressed to his chest and tucked his face into your neck.

"Now who's getting spoiled?"

"Hey! Maybe we do need new beds in the bunker that don't make my back hurt."

"Old man."

"Shut up and go to sleep." You could feel his laugh rumble in his chest as he squeezed you tight.

"I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart."

[blueblossomrose]

Hey I just send this parents series,I could ask for one with the idea parents interacting with Orpheus

- Anon 🍎

Of course! Here we go 🕊

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Shrouds being extremely caring and protective grandparents, post-canon, fem!afab!MC, fluffy, broken humor.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome! ♡

To start, it is necessary to understand that Orpheus is they only grandson.

Due to the sad and traumatic events with Ortho, Idia's closed-off personality and the family curse, Mr. and Mrs. Shroud did not have much hope of having grandchildren, even though they wanted them.

So when Idia showed up dating MC, they were to the point of setting off fireworks.

They almost did, but Mr. Shroud convinced Mrs. Shroud to save the fireworks for when they gain a grandchild.

As stated in resume hcs, they absolutely loved MC and couldn't accept even the thought of Idia breaking up with her. No way.

When the wedding came, they were happy, ecstatic, very joyful.

And then, the most anticipated news of the millennium for the Shroud family: MC was pregnant!

Mrs. Shroud immediately shouted: "ORTHO! BRING ON THE FIREWORKS!"

Meanwhile, Idia: ☠️

He already knew what this would probably entail from now on.

Mr. and Mrs. Shroud are very loving and protective grandparents. Especially on Mrs. Shroud's part, as she is more outspoken about it.

But Mr. Shroud isn't far behind either. He doesn't use many words, but his actions say how much he loves his grandson. Orpheus has absolutely everything he wants, whenever he wants it. His grandparents buy him anything, and create things for him.

Again, Orpheus is they only grandson. Everything that happened to Ortho and Idia in the past still affects them, even if they've gotten better at dealing with it over the years. But they make it clear that having Orpheus in the family is no way to replace Ortho or anything like that.

Having Orpheus in the family is they own blessing, a hope. Being part of the Shroud family for many years is considered a curse, for obvious reasons, in a way it really is. But being together there proved that it doesn't have to be like that all the time.

They learned how to better deal with the curse over the years, mainly with Idia's internal research, which brought some temporary solutions that were sufficient.

So when Orpheus was born, the situation was different, more favorable.

They are the kind of grandparents who will always defend their grandchild. Yeah Idia, you want to scold your son? Don't try that while the Shroud grandparents are visiting.

They won't let you scold their baby boy.

Orpheus name was chosen because it starts with "O" like Ortho. It was a tribute.

[Name] held Orpheus in her arms, rocking him gently as Mrs. Shroud finished straightening the little blue onesie she had bought especially for her grandson.

The living room of the home, normally slightly cold to match Idia's behavior, was filled with a warm and almost chaotic energy. Small electronic toys and gifts were scattered across the coffee table, the result of the recent visit.

"Oh, look how adorable he has become!" Mrs. Shroud exclaimed, her face was lit up with a genuine smile as her eyes roamed over the baby’s tiny figure.

“He’s 30% warmer in that onesie!” Ortho announced excitedly, jumping around [Name] and the baby, little sparkles emitting from his digital display, a sign of his joy.

“He looks perfect.” Mr. Shroud commented, his small, somewhat restrained smile reflecting a calmness that contrasted with his wife.

Beside him, Idia let out a dramatic sigh, as if he had already foreseen how this family scene would unfold.

“Oh, but the cap is missing from the set!” Mrs. Shroud suddenly exclaimed, pulling a small blue cap out of her shopping bag as if she had found the final ingredient for a perfect recipe.

She walked over to [Name], carefully reaching out and placing the small cap on top of Orpheus’s head, the baby’s faded blue hair already beginning to shyly poke through.

With the cap in place, Idia finally spoke, his voice slurred but slightly amused. “Heh, he looks like Mega Man.”

Ortho laughed at this. “That’s right!”

“The outfit is adorable, Mrs. Shroud!” [Name] said sincerely, smiling as she watched her son dressed so perfectly.

“Oh, [Name], please!” Mrs. Shroud replied, turning her attention to her with a warm gaze. “It’s been so many years! There’s no need to call me that. You can call me mother!”

As the two talked, Orpheus began to babble softly, chewing on his fingers. His innocent eyes sparkled, and his little nose wrinkled as if he sensed something strange.

Ortho, ever observant, knelt in front of the baby, leaning down excitedly to talk to him. “Orpheus, are you comfortable? Isn’t that the coolest onesie? I bet you’re 100% safe and warm now!”

But before he could say anything else, Orpheus took a deep breath, as if he were about to sneeze. Then…

“ATCH! ” A small, fiery flare exploded from the top of Orpheus’s head, burning the blue cap completely in a matter of seconds. The fabric crumbled into ash, leaving only the baby’s faded blue hair, now transformed into soft flames that danced in the air.

Everyone in the room froze for a moment, staring open-mouthed at the scene.

“Ahhh!” Mrs. Shroud gasped, her hands going to her face, but in awe, not panic. “Oh my God, his hair…! Ohhh my beautiful baby!”

“The temperature rose so quickly! The cap was destroyed!” Ortho said with genuine amazement.

“Ahhh... so young and already showing us his fiery hair…” Mr. Shroud murmured, emotional.

Idia, still standing next to [Name], widened his eyes in shock before exchanging a glance with his wife. [Name], in turn, began to laugh.

“Yeah… I guess we know who he gets it from,” she says, looking at her husband, who sighed deeply, running a hand through his own fiery hair.

Idia leaned over to look at the charred remains of the cap on the floor, frowning. “I guess I better get something to clean this up…”

He took a step toward the door, clearly trying to discreetly leave the commotion. However, before he could escape, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, making him freeze and sweat.

“Where do you think you’re going, Idy?...” Mrs. Shroud’s voice was soft, but filled with irrefutable authority. “Let’s take a picture. Of all of us. Now.”

"Gulp..." Idia swallowed dryly.

“I’ll get the camera,” Mr. Shroud said calmly, rising from his chair. He seemed almost pleased to be part of this special moment.

“[Name], [Name]! Can I hold Orpheus in the picture?” Ortho asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Of course, Ortho.” [Name] replied with a smile, carefully handing the baby over to her robotic brother-in-law, who held him with the precision of his mechanical parts and a surprisingly human affection.

Orpheus, in turn, let out a happy sound, the flames on top of his head dimming to a soft glow.

Shrouds. Always a curious experience.

[cheshireliam]

"Mystery Bag 2025" Story Sale

Fast and Agile! Team Stamina Monsters!

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

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Prologue (translated by @.judesmoonbeauty)

— Preliminary round. Group 1: Liam, Roger, Ellis, Ring.

…

Roger: This is just perfect. I’m teamed up with a bunch of real nasty fellas again.

Ellis: Nasty?

Roger: First of all, there’s you.

Roger: According to my investigations, your physical abilities are basically superhuman and easily one of the best in Crown. 

Ellis: Really? I don't work out, so I’ve always thought I’m pretty normal.

Roger: Normal people don’t go jumping around on rooftops. 

Ellis: Fufu, I got complimented.

Ellis: Speaking of which, Liam’s very agile too. He’s fast on his feet and has good stamina.

Liam: Unlike Ellis, I’m not naturally gifted with good athletic abilities. I worked out to perform better on stage, that’s all. 

Roger: And then we have you. I think you’re the black horse this time, Vogel’s little brother.

Ring: … Me?

Roger: Just look at those firm muscles. I never knew Vogel had someone like you. 

Roger: Mind if I perform a physical examination on you later? I haven't been able to collect much data on Vogel. 

Ring: … 

Ellis: Roger, you’re making Ring uncomfortable. 

Roger: Oh, my bad. I got excited seeing such a fresh potential research subject— 

Ring: T-that’s not it!

Roger • Ellis: ?

Ring: I’ve never been complimented like that before, so… 

Ring: It made me happy to be praised. I’d probably be prancing around if no one else was present. 

Roger: … You know…

Roger: Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of like a dog? 

Ring: A dog?

Roger: Ring, paw¹.

Ring: L-like this¹?

¹ Roger actually says “hand” here but I just thought this would be funnier because that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. 

Roger: See? Exactly the same. Who’s a good boy~~

Ring: D-damn it…! 

Liam: Ahaha, you’re now part of Roger’s favourites list. 

Ellis: We should let him play with Ale sometime. 

Townspeople: Ready, set, LIAAAAAMM! 

Ellis: Aren't those your fans?

Liam: You’re right! Thanks for supporting me! 

Townspeople: KYAAA~~! 

Roger: Hm? What’s the matter, dog— I mean, Ring? You’re spacing out.

Ring: Ah, um! Liam Evans! 

Liam: Whoa— y-yeah? Did I do something wrong?

Ring: … Umm.

Ring: … Uhhh 

Ring: I’ve always thought you’re really cool! 

Liam: Wha…

Ring: You’re very pink, sparkly, and captivating… 

Ring: I’m not good with my words, but you remind me of a peacock’s feathers… you’re just super impressive.

Ellis: Those are some very… unique compliments. 

Liam: Oh, um…

Liam: I’m really glad that you think of me that way. Thanks! 

Ring: …! 

Ring: … Ah, y-yeah. 

Liam: Hehe.

Roger: This is the first time you two formally meet, huh. 

Ellis: Ring, how happy are you right now?

Roger: Hey, Ellis. Don’t kill him before the competition even starts. 

Event Official: The members of Preliminary Group 1, please gather at the starting line. 

Ellis: Ah, looks like they’re calling for us.

Liam: Alright, from this point on, it’s all or nothing. No hard feelings regardless of who wins or loses.

Ring: Yeah, the competition will be fair and square. 

Roger: It’s great to see you guys all pumped up, but don’t get yourselves injured. I’ve got enough work to do already.

Liam • Ellis • Ring: Got it! 

Roger: I love that response.

Event Official: We will now commence with Group 1’s preliminary round! 

Event Official: Who will be the first to reach the finish line and be crowned the 2025 Happy Boy!? 

Event Official: Let's begin! On your marks… ready… GO!

*BANG!* 

…

Loud Male Townsperson: Wha—!? Those guys are crazy fast! 

Loud Female Townsperson: Everyone else apart from the four of them are falling further and further behind…

Roger: *pant*, *pant*... haha, I knew you guys were the real deal.

Liam: *pant*... It does look like it. Only one of us can make it past this preliminary round.

Liam: Ahaha, I can’t afford to lose. 

Ring: As a proud member of Vogel, I can’t afford to lose either. 

Ellis: Huh? Look, there's something over there.

Event Official: We’ve set up several obstacles ahead! 

Liam: Don’t tell me, we have to struggle and crawl through that net? 

Roger: Damn, Victor’s always leaving out the important stuff.

Ellis: Hmm. Roger, I’ll be going first.

Roger: H-hey! Damn it, that guy’s crawling through the net so easily! 

Roger: My bulkier body is a disadvantage but… argh! 

Liam: HE TORE THROUGH THE ROPES!? 

Roger: No one said we had to crawl through properly now, did they? See ya! 

Ring: I must catch up… whoa! 

Ring: Tch, my right foot got caught in the net. Damn it…

Liam: Ring, don’t move. I’ll help you get it off! 

Ring: Liam Evans.

Ring: I’m your opponent… so, why? 

Liam: Because this is a fair competition, remember?

Ring: S-so sparkly…! 

Liam: Alright, it’s off. Now hurry! 

Ring: I owe you one! 

Event Official: The fastest four contestants with extraordinary physical abilities have cleared the net obstacle…! 

Roger: *pant*, *pant*... looks like Ellis’ taking the lead after all. 

Roger: He’s going to win by a landslide at this rate. When it comes to times like this— 

Roger: Ellis! You’re going the wrong way! 

Ellis: Huh?

Roger: Not that way, it’s the other way! The other way! 

Ellis: Thanks, Roger— wait, what?

Roger: Pfft, haha! Just kidding. See ya at the finishing line! 

Roger: Playing nice isn’t our style, you know?

Ellis: If you’re going to play it that way— ha!

Roger: What the!? 

Ellis: Got your glasses.

Roger: I can’t see! Ellis! Give them back, you idiot! 

Liam: What are those two even doing— whoa!? 

Liam: Don’t pull my shirt, Roger!

Roger: Huh!? Are you Liam? I can’t tell who’s who…! 

Ring: A falling out!? 

Ring: ~~!

Ring: S-sorry, sparkly pink. I’ll be overtaking you…! 

…

Event Official: The leading contestant has reached the final obstacle!

Ring: What’s with this box? 

Event Official: You have to take a piece of paper from the box and retrieve the item written on it. 

Ring: So the final challenge is a scavenger hunt. I’ll take a piece of paper and—

Ring: This theme…! 

Ring: P-pe-person…

Ring: “Person you like”!? 

Ring: No, it doesn't say anywhere that it has to be romantic, so any kind of deep affection is acceptable, right? 

Ring: Where's Nica— 

Event Official: The person must be a romantic interest! 

Ring: WHAT!? 

Ring: I don't know anything about romance, I… 

Kate: Ring! 

Ring: This voice… robin?

Kate: You can do it, Ring!

Ring: !!

Ring: … Ggh, my heart… is racing…

Ring: Don’t tell me, the “person I like” is— 

Kate: Riiiingg! 

Ring: Ugh! 

Liam: Ring, why’d you stop all of a sudd— 

Liam: Whoa, nosebleed! Ring, your nose is bleeding! 

Ring: …

Liam: Roger! Casualty! Ring’s having a nosebleed! 

Roger: Huh? Nosebleed? Let me have a look.

Ellis: Roger, this is Ellis.

Roger: That’s why I’ve been telling you to give my glasses back to me already! 

Liam: Whoa, it’s coming out of the other nostril too!

Ring: I… the robin… 

Kate: Victor, umm this is—

Victor: All of them are disqualified :D

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Just Protecting

Batsis!reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: you start dating someone from the alternative scene and your brother (and his kids) get suspicious. warnings: kind of yandere? I have no idea, no y/n used, gender of your partner is not specified a/n: (divider, @k1ssyoursister) it doesn't even have to be someone from an alternative universe, i strongly believe that they'll try to secretly research about them without you knowing.

It started with your windows being left unlocked after going to sleep the night before. Of course it didn‘t take long for you to figure out who it could have been, but you can‘t be too sure. It‘s Gotham City after all, and your family aren‘t the only vigilantes hopping around.

Your partner didn‘t take notice of it yet, and you plan on keeping a secret until you are sure of who is breaking into your apartment at night.

After being in a relationship with them for over a year, it‘s still a little surprising for your brother when you mention them around him. Seems like he didn‘t have as much time to care about it, considering how stressful his life is. You get it, and you don‘t stress or push him about it, instead, you give him space and occasionally check up on him whenever needed.

But breaking in? To check in on you? That‘s new.

And that‘s exactly why you decided to give him a visit on a random Tuesday evening, having made up an excuse as to why you are here. Once the front gate opens, Alfred greets you with a welcoming smile and leads you inside, already starting a conversation as he makes you both a cup of tea. After several moments of talking together, Bruce managed to get out of the Batcave to meet you as well.

»What brought you here? Something happened?« Did they make a mistake? — He wants to add, but knows he will just blow his cover instead.

»Wanted to check in on you. Doesn‘t hurt to see family once in a while, no?«

You shrug your shoulders lightly and stay seated on the chair at the long dining table and set your cup down as you talk. Bruce nods in agreement, settling in the chair opposite you.

»Right, yeah. How‘s your… partner doing? Any news?«

Very smooth, Bruce, so sneaky. He waits for your answer, eyes slightly narrowed. Obviously, you don‘t fall into that trap. There‘s nothing to fall for anyway, your relationship is just fine, if not perfect. Instead, you give him a smile and start rambling off. His fault for breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night.

»Oh, great! We actually started to renovate our kitchen because our apartment is still kind of new, so that‘s where we are right now… but we also planned getting a cat once things start to look even better, and we...« At some point, Bruce stopped listening, only catching a few words as he mostly tried to figure out if there could be something else going on. But it seems like there isn‘t. Which is worrying him even more.

»Oh, look who‘s here!« You interrupt your happy rambling and instead focus on the smaller boy approaching you both, always happy to see your youngest nephew.

Damian gives you a tight smile, knowing he should at least try to give you a happy greeting in front of Bruce.

»What‘s the occasion, Auntie?« You answer the same way as before, just glad to see that this brooding boy still has the mood to go up and talk to you.

The appereance of his short cut, going back up to his room after exchanging a few words. But you didn‘t miss the way father and son exchanged a subtle nod before disappearing again. That only proved your suspicions further.

You left the manor with a Tupperware of baked goods as a gift from Alfred, getting back to your apartment with a new plan.

◐

You barricaded your window at the fire escape with a chair underneath it and sealed it shut with duct tape. The tape is just there for you to hear it getting pressed open; the chair is just for fun, hoping that Bruce will trip on it once he gets through the window.

Your partner already fell asleep, peaceful and unaware of your current suspicions about someone breaking in during the night. But you stayed up and about, doing smaller tasks around the place to keep yourself awake. You kept the lights off, expecting Bruce, or rather Batman, to drop in any second.

Once it strikes after three in the morning, the window starts to rattle lightly. It stops briefly before the person on the other side tries again, the duct tape making more noise than you thought it would. Eventually, it gets tugged off, and the window is up, open and letting the fresh breeze inside.

You settle a little deeper into your blanket on the couch and wait for the secret person to show. As expected, the larger figure almost stumbles on the chair after stepping inside, but saves himself pretty well. You stifle a small laugh at the sight, squinting through the darkness of the living room.

Finally, you turn the light back on and get out of your poor hiding spot.

»I knew you were breaking in.«

Batman stops in his tracks, attempting to close the window but gets stopped as Robin follows through, blowing up all their cover altogether. This earns a raised brow from you, silently demanding answers.

»We‘ve solely been trying to… help with your kitchen renovations.«

»I lied about them.«

Bruce‘s scowl deepens at that, while Damian just stares right back at you and hopes he won‘t be part of your scolding, this time.

»Bruce.« You call out, earning the full attention of him again. While some might be spooked or even deathly afraid of the dark knight standing in their living room with his sidekick, you feel otherwise. This is just another one of those times where you can scold your brother for something he did.

»Is patrol getting boring, or why are you two secretly visiting my place?«

Silence follows, neither of them having good excuses for their visits. You sigh out in disappointment, crossing your arms as you wait for their answers.

»It‘s for your safety. You don‘t know your partner well enough.« Damian starts this time and he can feel that was a bad choice.

»So, you‘ve been spying on us at night?«

Bruce purses his lips, knowing there‘s no way of lying himself out of this situation.

»We only took their documents and made a scan of them… to make sure they‘re not hiding anything.«

You sigh out again, glancing into your hallway to make sure the door to your shared bedroom is still closed.

»You have been what?!« You harshly whisper at them, clearly not pleased to hear it at all. The pair of vigilantes flinch in their spot, exchanging a brief look between themselves.

»We‘re only doing this for your safety.«

»They are a civilian! What do you mean ,my safety‘?«

You huff out and pace around for a moment before standing back in front of them.

Bruce and Damian watch you, probably regretting their decision.

»Can I have the documents back?«

Finally, Bruce budges and hands you over the two folders worth of personal documents. As you quickly skim through them, you realise they even took all the banking information with them.

»You are lucky they didn‘t notice before I did.« With the final sentence, you urge them out and go back to sleep after placing the documents into a safer spot.

Safe to say, you never noticed someone breaking into your home anymore, and you made sure to check up on Bruce more regularly so he won‘t become paranoid. Your partner still hasn‘t noticed anything but still feels rather intimidated whenever you both visit your family for dinner.

They can never let go of the glaring eyes your youngest nephew gives them over the dinner table.

a/n: Sorry, this came out short and a bit wobbly, hope you still got the idea though!!

←MASTERLIST

[t1red-twilight]

play nice

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, protective!dean, relationship gets established, cursing, gratuitous smooching because i like it

summary: you have to interrogate someone for a case, but he gets a little too comfortable.

word count: 2k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

a few mysterious deaths urged the three of you to southern california. what had started as a feeble attempt at relaxing had ended in scouring small-town news for something interesting. none of you could handle sitting still for an extended period of time without going batshit insane, so dean found a case that was definitely easy mode.

presently, sam was back at the motel doing some research (typical), and you and dean were approaching a diner to interrogate a victim’s friend. the air was brisk, and your tacky suit did little to warm you.

the diner was basically a carbon copy of the approximate 50 thousand diners you had eaten at within the years you had known the winchesters. “so, wait, who is this guy again?” you asked dean. this had all been explained to you earlier, but you couldn’t recall any information.

the two of you paused outside the diner entrance. “aaron williams. he’s the most recent victim’s roommate. he wasn’t at the scene yesterday when we looked around.” you straightened your suit coat. ah, now you remembered. he was some idiot former-frat-boy drop out, sam had said.

you nodded affirmatively. you reached forward and tried to push the door open, only to be met with resistance. hearing dean snicker behind you, you quickly pulled open the door and allowed him to enter before you. “its a pull door, dumbass,” he teased.

you kicked his shoe, trying to alert him that you had an image to uphold. “i figured that out, genius,” you whispered. an employee approached you, clad in a stained fifties-esque uniform. they were clearly on the younger side.

“hello. i’m special agent nicks, and this is special agent buckingham. we need to speak to aaron williams?” as you introduced yourself, you reached into your breast pocket and fished out the faux id, and dean mirrored you. there was a pause. “about the death of luke johnson?” you continued.

a look of realization dawned on the employee’s face, and they turned to look over their shoulder before turning back to face you. “oh, okay. uh, let me go get him.” they scampered away quickly. you snorted, but tried to cover it with a cough. teenagers.

the man that approached you was tall. about sam’s height, maybe an inch or two shorter. his was thick, curly brown hair on his head, and thick stern eyebrows. you immediately were drawn to him, you were sure that anyone would be.

out of the corner of your eye, you could see dean turn and look at you, disbelief spread across his face. red, hot embarrassment spread out over your face. your lips pulled into a thin line, and dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “you needed to talk to me?” aaron asked, now in front of you.

dean inched forward slightly, his already gruff voice dropping in tone. “yes. we should probably sit.” you both flashed your badges again. dean tilted his head on either side, popping his neck. before he sat, he pulled out your chair. aaron did not follow, and dean gestured, somewhat aggressively, for him to sit.

aaron proceeded to lounge back in the diner chair. his long legs were spread out underneath the table, feet almost touching yours. “so, we understand that you were luke’s roommate?” you prodded.

aaron looked away, and nodded. at your stern gaze, he responded verbally. “yes. found the body.” his face was aloof and devoid of any emotion, positive or negative.

dean leaned forward, torso pressing into the table. his loosened his clenched jaw to speak. “yes. that’s why we’re here,” he spoke, annoyed. you tapped his thigh in an effort to get him to chill the hell out.

“sorry, aaron,” you apologized. “agent buckingham and i are just a little behind schedule today. had luke been erratic or weird the days before you found him?”

aaron sat up a little straighter. “i mean, kind of. he was just a weird dude in general.” he was clearly acting too nonchalant for dean.

dean scoffed, and you swatted his leg again. “weird how?” dean pressed. aaron shrugged. a stiff silence followed, and dean tried (albeit poorly) to hide how irritated he was getting. “well if you’re not-“ he started, his volume raising. any semblance of attraction you had to aaron was quickly diluted by his idiocracy. he was either dumb, enjoyed wasting people’s time, or both. great. this was going to go just great.

you cut him off, “did any of his habits change, did he talk about or do things he usually didn’t?” you couldn’t risk dean making a scene, and more importantly, you really needed to find out something from aaron.

aaron sighed deeply. “i don’t know. i’ve been kinda,” he paused, “busy.” he punctuated his sentence by raising both his eyebrows. you understood the innuendo he was trying to get at.

aaron leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and licked his lips.

desperately fighting off a sneer, you kept your voice as monotonous as possible. “how did you find the body?”

aaron looked around playfully. “it was in the living room. saw him when i walked in.” dean scoffed, and aaron continued. “he was bloody. i don’t know, i called the police.” you could practically feel dean’s eyes roll.

you flicked your eyes over to dean, to get his attention and signal him that you were ready to leave. there was no way in hell that you were going to get information out of this douchebag, none that would be beneficial anyway.

aaron spoke up and broke you out of your thoughts. “you know, you’re too much of a looker to be fbi,” his tone was flavored with something you didn’t like. clearly, dean didn’t either with the curses he began muttering under his breath.

“excuse me?” you paused to give him a chance to take back what he said, but instead he just doubled down.

aaron leaned forward on his forearms even further, “i think that we could have some fun together, if you just left your-“

all in one motion, dean’s arm shot around your waist and pulled you into his side and stood up forcefully. thus, you stood up with him; it wasn’t as if he was giving you any option to act unaccordingly. oddly enough, you sighed and felt some tension dissipate from your shoulders. “alright, that’s enough. thank you for all of your bullshit and for not being of any help whatsoever,” dean was almost yelling. with a grandiose movement, dean’s hands were suddenly on your face.

quickly you felt him pull you closer. your hands gripped his wrists but had no intention on pushing him away from you. you knew what was about to happen: you had done it many times before, but dean had never been so forward in private, let alone in public.

dean slotted his lips against yours in a kiss that was more teeth than anything. as you felt him exhale against your face, you bit his bottom lip and pulled away from his face. his head tilted almost imperceptibly to the right, and he kissed you once more with a small pecking motion. his lips were chapped and in need of some vaseline or something, but you didn’t mind. shit, you were still in public. so much for not letting dean make a scene.

“have a good day, dick,” he tagged on sarcastically. you hadn’t seen, but dean had flipped aaron off.

his hand slipped from your face and down to your own hand. turning, he pulled you towards the door. when you both had gotten several steps away from the dingy diner, you stopped him.

“hey, are you okay? what was that?” the green in his eyes swirled with something. anger, you figured.

dean pulled his hand away from yours, and waved them around as he spoke. “he shouldn’t fuckin’ talk to you like that. it’s, you’re better than- fuck, i-“ he stopped when you snorted. “what?”

you grabbed his intelaced your fingers once more. “it’s just,” you swallowed down your laughter. “you should really learn to play nice, you know.” you took his other hand in yours. the chill in the air was no longer an issue with how close the two of you were standing.

dean looked away for a moment before down back into your eyes. “well he shouldn’t have messed with someone who carries a gun,” dean gestured toward the gun in his waistband.

you chuckled again. while he might have been joking, he still had a stern expression on his face. “i also carry a gun,” you teased him, one eyebrow quirked upwards.

the seriousness melted off his face. dean readjusted his footing, and his posture loosened. “i’m more inclined to use mine on dimwits than you are.” there was a smile in his tone now.

you let go of one of his hands and used his neck as leverage to pull his lips closer to yours. you kissed him shortly before speaking again. “thank you, dean. for always sticking up for me, i mean.” you thumb traced circles on the part of his neck where his skin met his hair.

his face turned away while he responded, “i know you can handle yourself, i’ve seen it, i just-“ you turned his face back to yours.

“you’re perfectly fine,” you tried to sound as assuring as possible.

really, you were flattered. and you of course knew that dean knew that you could handle yourself. you wouldn’t have lasted this long if you couldn’t. “i’ve been flirted with before, what set you off this time?” you questioned. in the past this had never been an issue. in fact, you had flirted with- and even kissed- random people to get information before. what had changed from then until now?

“i don’t know, i-“ his adam’s apple bobbed, and motioned for him to continue. “okay, maybe i like you.” your eyebrows shot up, almost into your hairline. his face held a vulnerable expression. dean’s mouth was barely agape, and his eyebrows were slightly knit together.

your shock quickly morphed into adoration. a grin stretched across your face. “like me?”

his relief was evident. “you know what i mean,” if your eyes had been closed you would’ve still sensed his smile. you had known for a while. sam had mentioned things offhandedly, and it helped that you knew dean like you knew the back of your hand. it wasn’t long before you sensed something in your dynamic change. perhaps you just figured your feelings would never boil over and that everything would return to how they had previously been. you had never been so glad to be so wrong in your life.

you quirked your head to the right coyly. “i don’t know. do i?” a faux expression of confusion sat on your features.

“fuck. fine. do you maybe want to…” dean trailed off, his voice lowering.

your hand rose to cup your ear, “what? i can’t hear you?” cruel as you were, you wanted to hear him say it.

dean swallowed his pride and admitted it. “can we be official? uh, please?” he was looking down at your shoes, and a red glow bloomed on his cheeks. you tilted his chin up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“only because you asked so nicely.” as soon as you finished speaking dean was kissing you again. only this time, it was a different type of passion. dean kissed you with a silent fervor that craved more of as the seconds passed. his tongue swiped your upper lip, and so you parted them.

your hand trailed into his hair as dean’s cradled the small of your back. his hands were so large, and you were truly appreciative of that fact presently.

when you and dean separated a string of saliva connected your mouths. he spoke, his voice merely a whisper. “maybe we should get back to sammy,” he spoke through red, kiss-bruised lips.

you smiled. “that’s probably a good idea.”

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, violence, oral (male receiving)

Chapter Word Count: 5306

—-MDNI—-

A/N: kind of an odd chapter tbh, there was a few things that I wanted to write so it felt best to squeeze them all in together. I want to start getting into the romance side of things with Dean, so I guess that starts here. Also I’ve been away sick so I’ve added a bit of spiciness.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 13

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 14

I grasped the hanger off the rail and slung the pair of flared jeans over my arm to join the other items I was purchasing. Dean had been kind enough to give me a hundred bucks in cash - God knows where from - to get myself whatever I needed whilst he and Sam sauntered off to the menswear stores. As I browsed, lifting a crocheted crop top up before scrunching my nose at the thought of how little it would cover, the bell to the store jingled as someone else walked in. I heard footsteps slowly pace down the short aisle I was in, and as I placed the top back on the rail, I almost jumped out of my skin as someone started talking.

“Oh hey, it's (Y/n) right? You're bunking with the Winchester boys?”

I snapped my head up at the female voice, not expecting anyone out here but Sam and Dean to know my name. My eyes met a pair of warm brown ones, faint crows feet in the corners from years of joy and smiles. I recognised her; she was the short haired woman in the bunker kitchen the night we got back from the strip club.

“Uuhhhh ye- yes! You know Sam and Dean?” My expression was clearly confused as she grinned and held out her hand.

“The names Jody Mills. I've known the boys for a while now - through hunting. It's a pleasure to meet you at last - I've heard great things about you,” I juggled the clothing in my arms and grasped her outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. She seemed to grin at that.

“Oh, they talk about me? I had no idea,” I suddenly felt a little nervous, the knowledge that I've been the topic of conversations unbeknownst to myself made me sweat a little. Jody seemed to notice this.

“They've only had great things to say, so don't panic! Especially that boy Dean. Not sure how you've done it chick but you really got that wild card wrapped around your little finger,” she raised her eyebrows almost suggestively and I felt heat start to prickle my skin.

“Wh-what? No no no, he's not-” I watched as her head tilted in my direction, eyebrows still raised as a slight grin tugged on her lips. “Have I really?”

She hummed and nodded her head, starting to flick through the clothing rail that I'd been looking at before.

“I've known that boy a few years now, and I've never seen him run to anyone the way he ran to you that night you appeared in the kitchen, looking like a kicked kitten,” she smiled softly and squeezed my arm, “you're something special to him honey, so try not to break his heart.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, with what I can imagine was the dumbest look on my face as I felt myself getting redder by the second. A phone ringing suddenly pulled me from my dazed thoughts as Jody reached into her pocket and answered the call. She spoke in a sterner tone than what she'd used with me, and after a few words were exchanged she hung up and returned the device to her pocket.

“I've gotta get going, but I'll try and catch you all again later. I'm in the area for a bit so I'll try and pop by. It was lovely to meet you (Y/n),” she squeezed my arm one last time before turning to leave, the bell on the door signalling her departure. I stood for a moment, my mind spinning from what she'd said about Dean. There was absolutely no way that what she'd said was true. I mean, I beat the crap out of him when we first met, and we've bickered a lot. I guess we've not argued for a good few days. And we've had sex. Oh the sex. I bit my lip as thoughts of us tangled in his sheets came to mind. Not just thoughts, but memories. Like I said to him this morning, we're just fuck buddies. Right?

*

Leaving the store with two large paper bags in one hand and my phone in the other, I first dialled Sam to find out where he was down this stretch of high street. When it went to voicemail, I hung up and dialled Deans number instead. It rang and rang, and when I thought his was going to ring through as well, he finally answered.

“Hey sweetheart, what's up?”

“Hey, I'm finished getting what I need. Whereabouts are you?”

“Uhhh…” I heard him turn to the shop assistant and ask for the name of the store he was in before he relayed it to me.

“Cool, I'll be there in two minutes. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with a click I hung up and tucked my phone into my back pocket and walked no more than two hundred yards to get to where he was still trying on boots. As I gingerly walked in, well aware it was a men's store and I was currently the only woman in here, Deans head snapped to the door when the arrival bell jingled.

“Hey sweetheart, you're just in time! I have no idea what to get.”

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the thought of the great Dean Winchester getting stumped by the more domesticated side of life.

“Well I'm here to help,” I placed my bags on the bench next to his discarded jacket. “What are the options?”

We must've spent half an hour going over the ones he'd shortlisted, then he chose an entirely different pair anyway, unrelated to the ones he'd picked out for himself.

Leaving the store and a quick phone call between the brothers, we all concluded that now was the best time to stop for lunch. Dean and I made a quick trip back to Baby to drop off our bags, with Dean opting to sport his brand new boots in favour of his old and decrepit ones. It was a short walk back to the high street now that we were bag free, and I could see Sam a mile off - his tall frame loitering outside the chosen diner, the occasional woman walking past throwing a few looks his way. He, of course, was oblivious to those looks, and when he spotted us as we neared he offered a wave. He sprouted a wide, friendly grin as we came to stand next to him.

“You guys get everything you need?”

“Yep! Took Cinderella a while to find the right boots but we got there in the end,” I flashed Dean a playful smirk as he tilted his head in slight annoyance at the nickname, which pulled a light hearted laugh from Sam.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least I didn’t spend twenty bucks on a thrifted Carhartt hoodie.”

“Hey that is durable shit, it’s worth every penny.”

“You could've had one of mine, I don't wear hoodies much anymore.”

“I somehow feel like there'd be a catch with that.”

“Uuhh, I got my jacket, if anyone cares?” Sam decided to interject, and we both turned to look at him.

“Good for you Sammy.”

“Yeah, nice one Sam,” I looked around for a second, not seeing any bags, “where is it?”

He gave me a funny look.

“What?”

“Seriously?” He asked, looking between Dean and myself. I looked at the older Winchester and seemed to have the same questions I did.

“Guys, I’m wearing it. Did you seriously not notice?”

I bit my lip.

“It looks exactly the same,” Dean spoke my own thoughts out loud.

“Well I mean technically it is. But it's not all scuffed up. Look you can clearly tell it's new,” he gestured with his hands that were still in his pockets, flapping the jacket around like he was an elongated flying squirrel.

“Not really.”

“Nope,” Dean popped the ‘p’ before he walked past both of us, “come on guys I'm starving, can we just go in?”

*

A simple lunch in the diner turned into beers in the bar which somehow turned into karaoke followed by shots. The place was bustling - all tables and booths occupied and a permanent flow of people ordering drinks. Most of the guys were of similar tastes, donning boots and leather jackets whilst the few women that were there pranced around in short-shorts and low cut tops. I for one felt a little out of place. The three of us were lucky to snag a booth, albeit close to the small stage situated up front, and I’d tucked myself into the corner, cradling my rum and coke. Dean had left his jacket beside me whilst he’d ventured off to challenge a group of guys to a ‘friendly’ game of pool, his laugh occasionally flowing over the chatter and music towards where Sam and I were sitting.

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realise they’re being conned?” I quizzed, taking a gulp from my glass and letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue before swallowing. Sam chuckled, taking a second before answering.

“Uhhh I don’t think these guys will find out until tomorrow morning.” We both laughed, knowing full well that Dean will spend all night gloating about how great he is, how we should bow in respect of the swindle master. I was lost in thought for a moment, wondering how much money he would actually walk away with when Sam’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“(Y/n), can I ask you something?”

I took another gulp of my drink, knowing full well what that puppy-dog look in Sam’s eyes meant, that furrow in his brow only accentuating it.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He took a breath.

“Are you ok? Like, really ok? Because if I’m honest, if I saw someone who I thought was dead - that I used to be in love with - stand before me after years of believing I’d never see them again; I don’t think I would be ok.”

I fiddled with the hem of Deans shirt sleeve for a second, my brain swarming with every thought I’ve been avoiding since the other night and keeping every little buzz under lock and key. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid to open Pandora’s box for the fear of ice cold confrontation. It wasn’t the wisest option, but putting the skeletons back in their closet and throwing out the key was what I genuinely thought was best. I let out an emotionally exhausted sigh before slumping back in my seat.

“I’m not ok. It still feels like some sort of fucked up fever dream, but… but thinking about it isn’t going to make me feel any better. Talking about someone who’s been dead to me for years isn’t going to take this messed up feeling away. In my mind, there’s nothing to get over where he’s concerned. Yeah, he was my teenage sweetheart, but I’m a grown woman now with a whole new brain and a whole new heart,” I could’ve kicked myself for letting my eyes flick over to Dean.

Sam sighed, resting his elbows on the table, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“If you’re sure, because you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“I know, thanks Sam,” I gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Although, just one thing…”

“What’s that?” He sat up straighter.

“I don’t think it’s Daniel as a person that has me feeling like this - I grieved him and moved on from him years ago. I think… I think it’s the thought of that soul crushing sorrow coming back that scares me the most. The kind of sorrow that makes you forget what day it is; that stops you from eating and going outside and taking care of yourself. It makes you lose friends and interest in hobbies. It makes the whole world look grey and lifeless. You feel so unbearably numb that you aren’t even sure why you’re alive anymore. It makes you want to die.”

“(Y/n)…” Sam seemed at a loss for any other words as he held my hand softly across the table, running his thumb gently over my knuckles. I took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I felt like that when I lost Daniel, but when I lost Bobby, I… I…” I felt my voice crack slightly, “when I lost Bobby it was so much worse, I genuinely never thought I’d be normal ever again. Luckily for me, Charlie found me,” I grinned, remembering her determination to piece me back together. I looked up from where our hands joined, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“The only way I’d go through any of that again would be if I was to lose you guys. I know it’s not been long, but for once I’ve found something that makes me want to get out of bed in the mornings. That shit is hard to find.”

We both took a moment, feeling the weight of my words as we shared a gaze. I knew from the way his brows drew together and that far away look in his eyes that he felt everything I’d said. He’d experienced it first hand. And he knew that he didn’t have to say much, if anything, to convey that he understood. Slowly pulling my hand out from under his and placing my palm over his knuckles, I gave a gentle squeeze before standing, letting him go and grasping my glass. I threw the last mouthful back, the liquid vigorously fizzing down my throat before warming my chest. As I swallowed, I held my glass up and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“Well shit, would you look at that - my glass is empty. Guess I’m heading to the bar. You need a top up?”

“Yeah, please. Remind me to get the next round,” he grinned as I slid out the booth and headed towards the bar. As I waded through the crowd I passed the pool table, glancing over at Dean who was deeply engrossed in taking a player's hard earned money out of his grasp. I watched the smug grin spread over his lips as he counted then pocketed the cash.

I looked up to see an opening at the bar so I squeezed in, perching myself on a stale beer-scented barstool whilst I waited for the barman to notice me. After a couple of minutes of being served he placed the drinks before me and I paid on one of Deans ‘special’ credit cards, scooping all three glasses into my grasp - with an insane amount of skill - and turned to leave. The moment my ass left the seat cushion however I found myself toe-to-toe with a very tall and very rugged stranger, the smell of cigarettes and old leather wafting around him.

“Not seen you around these parts before doll; I know I’d recognise such a pretty face,” he had a grim smirk on his face and his voice was like sandpaper - rough but certainly not sexy. I tried to take a step back but only ended up seated back on the barstool.

“Just passing through,” I did my best to flash a polite smile in the hopes he would sense I didn’t want to have this conversation. No such luck.

“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be in a place like this all alone. Things might…happen.”

A shudder ascended my spine into my neck and I tried my best to subtly shake it out before I gave into my more defensive side.

“Who the fuck do you think I am with this many drinks? They’re clearly not all mine… ergo, I have company.”

His gross grin widened, the subject of my statement clearly not settling correctly in the empty space between his ears.

“Getting feisty… I like it. Can’t get much better than a little thing with a mouth.”

I shuddered again.

“What part of ‘I have company’ do you not fucking understand? And even if I was alone, I definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere with you.”

His grimy smirk faltered slightly, finally absorbing some of my words that seemed to be floating in the air around his thick skull.

“Aw don’t be like that.”

“Oh I’m gonna ‘be like that’ until you leave me the fuck alone.”

He took a lumbering step forwards, pushing me further onto the barstool.

“See now there’s a point when a mouth on a pretty thing becomes down right obnoxious, and you’re nearing that point sweetheart.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me you dick,” I was mentally preparing to buy another round of drinks as the thought of throwing these three at this asshole was becoming sweeter by the second, and people were starting to watch on but there wasn’t a single white knight in sight.

“Well now you’ve just crossed that line,” the second I saw him start to raise his arms my instincts kicked in and I gave into my previous thought and doused him in liquor, the amber liquid running down his face and neck and soaking into his clothes. He looked down at himself in disbelief before lifting his head back up, this time baring his teeth and raising his hand as if to slap me. I reflexively raised my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You stupid bitch.”

“If you touch a hair on her goddamn head ‘imma put you six feet under.”

My eyes shot open and I lowered my hands to see a seething Dean Winchester, a single strong hand wrapped around my harasser's wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The faintest smirk pulled at the corner of Deans mouth before disappearing as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing but quiet rage burning across his features.

“I’m about to be your biggest fucking problem.”

Before the asshole could even react Deans hand went from twelve O’clock to six O’clock in half a second with a sickening snap, breaking the jerks elbow with deadly skill. Practised skill. Whilst my harasser cried out and cradled his limp arm, Dean let go of him before a few of the onlookers gave Dean a nod of approval before escorting the creep out. Once he knew he was out of the building, Dean turned to me, softly grasping my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Are you ok? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He tilted my face left and right, scrutinising over my unharmed skin. When he was sure that there wasn’t a scratch on me he let go, relief flooding his gaze as he sighed.

“Dean I’m fine, I promise,” I reached up, fingers hesitantly grazing his stubbled cheek before I thought better of it and dropped my hand to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I swear to God (Y/n), if he’d laid a finger on you he’d get a lot more than a busted elbow,” his hand came to rest on my bicep, his long fingers gently wrapping around my arm in subconscious comfort, almost pulling me towards him. My own hand seemed to slide down from his shoulder to rest softly on his chest, my fingertips feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.

“I know,” I reassured, giving him a little smile to which he returned. I felt my soft smile turn mischievous as thoughts started conjuring in my mind.

“Come on, Sam is waiting for another drink, let's order and get back to the table.”

The bartender had seen Dean step in to help me, so luckily for us this round was on the house. As we slid into the booth opposite Sam I slid his drink over to him.

“What happened back there?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Just some asshole thinking I was gonna leave this place with him,” I sighed, sitting down, Dean taking his seat beside me. Sam's eyes flicked between the two of us.

“I'm sure I saw him leave with his arm all out of shape, was that-”

“Yeah well, shrimp-dick had it coming,” Dean was doing his best to act nonchalant, however the moment our eyes met over the top of our drinks we couldn't stop the giggles from tumbling out.

“Guys, Dean, you can't go around breaking elbows-”

“Relax Sammy. No one's gonna say anything, they all saw him acting like a creep. Just didn't have the balls to step in. Anyway,” a darker look clouded his eyes as his gaze bore into his younger brother, “he was harassing our girl, Sam. Ain't no way in Hell I was gonna let that slide.”

There was a moment of thick silence before Sam nodded, finally agreeing with Deans actions, knowing that if it had come down to it, he might've done the same. I raised my glass to my lips, taking a long sip before placing it back on the table, looking between the boys as they continued to have some sort of silent conversation that I wasn't a part of. The mischievous thoughts from earlier kept bubbling in my mind, and it didn't take any self-convincing for me to act on them. I shuffled slightly closer to Dean, not enough to draw attention to myself but enough to be in touching distance. I glanced up at him, making sure he was totally unaware and focused on his drink before I reached out slowly, letting my soft fingertips glide over the rough denim of his jeans. I glanced up at him when I heard him inhale his drink, spluttering slightly as I squeezed the inside of his thigh. I traced the length of his inseam, watching his grip on his glass tighten, the tanned skin over his knuckles paling.

“You ok there?” I asked, feigning concern with a quirk of a brow.

“Oh I'm just peachy sweetheart,” his voice came out low, lower than I think he was expecting it to as his eyes nervously darted to Sam who was too busy opening his laptop to notice. Dean leant back on the bench, the worn leather creaking under his weight. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment before lifting his arm closest to me, as though inviting me to sit closer. Eager to oblige I scooted towards him, nibbling my bottom lip when I felt his large hand rest softly on my back, subconsciously pulling me in. I crossed one leg over the other, turning into him slightly, tilting my head to get a better look at his face.

“I think I left something in the car, would you mind coming with me whilst I grab it?”

He looked a little puzzled for a moment before shotting the last of his whiskey and nodding his head.

“Sure thing,” he turned to his brother, “hey Sammy, we’ll be back in a few.”

Sam grunted a reply, too lost in the article he was reading to pay much attention to us. Dean slid out of the booth and held his hand out to me, which I grasped. His long rough fingers enveloped my hand as he pulled me to my feet. Leaving his jacket behind, we left the bar and made our way to the impala.

The night air had turned chilly, biting at my flushed cheeks as we paced across the lot, taking all of about thirty seconds to reach the impala. Dean was a few steps ahead of me, having unlocked the rear passenger door by the time I'd arrived.

“There you are, grab what you ne- whoa!”

He was caught off guard when I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him down into the car, his broad form filling the space in the back with ease. I climbed in after him, closing the door and crawling along the back bench towards him. It took a moment, but Dean eventually caught on.

“Oh, I’m liking where this is going.”

I chewed at my bottom lip, watching him settle beneath me as he propped up slightly on his elbows, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching thin over his muscular chest.

“I wanted to thank you for being my hero. That’s the second time you’ve rescued me - I wanted to thank you properly. You know, to really show my appreciation.”

It was Deans turn to pull his bottom lip between his teeth, the corners of his plush lips turning up.

“You know, I’m starting to think you might be trouble,” his voice was getting lower with every word, each syllable rumbling in his chest and vibrating into my fingertips.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, feeling some truth to them as I scooted down the bench to sit between his legs before slipping into the large footwell. I patted the seat in front of me, and it didn’t even take a second for Dean to slide himself into it, sitting up straight. As I sat between his knees and looked up at him, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight; the way the streetlights painted his face in warm amber, softening his battle-hardened features and reflecting in his eyes like dancing embers from a stoked fire. The shadows didn’t seem contradictory - the darkness we were sitting in was far from cold. Dean Winchester was not an artistic man by any means, but he himself was certainly a masterpiece.

I reached up and unbuckled his belt along with the button on his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down after and tugging the thick fabric along with his boxers off his hips; just enough to dip my hand in and pull out his cock, already hot and heavy in my palm. He made an almost strained noise on contact and my stomach fluttered at the thought of him being so sensitive. So sensitive at my mercy. I adjusted my grip on him before going up and down, once… twice… three times… over and over at a sinfully slow pace. His hands gripped his thighs like they had nowhere else to go, and when I looked up he was watching every move I was making with knotted brows and parted lips. His eyes only found mine when I straightened my back and leant forwards, gliding my tongue up the thick length of him but avoiding the tip. Mimicking my hand, I licked up and down again and again, ever so slowly gaining speed before I finally dragged my tongue over his tip and plunged his whole cock down my throat.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped out, his large palms flying to my hair - long fingers knotting with the soft strands. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shove my head down as far as it would go, but his self restraint shone through. I started to move, slowly at first, head bobbing without missing a beat. The feeling of his cock pressing against the back of my throat over and over was fine at first, but the longer I sucked him off the urge to gag grew. The size of Deans cock was not something to be taken lightly, and after a couple of minutes the impending gag hit and I pulled him out of my mouth.

“Shit, (Y/n)… How are you so good at this?” He hissed out in a breath I’m sure he’d been holding since I'd started. I assumed the question was rhetorical as I gave him a few pumps, swallowing the excess spit and precum on my tongue before leaning back in. One by one I placed hot, wet kisses up his length, placing the final one on his tip before I pulled it back into my mouth. With the new found sensitivity of my gag reflex ever-present, I avoided taking him too far down my throat, this time using one hand to reach where my mouth couldn't at his base. Adding a little twist, I felt his grip tighten once again in my hair, his long fingers absently scooping loose strands away from my face. The combination of feeling him lose his mind beneath me and the tenderness of his touch sent a flutter to my heart which quickly travelled south at the sound of his euphoric groan, his head lolling back and eyes closing. As I pressed my tongue to the large vein scaling his length I could feel his rapid pulse, my own heart rate almost as fast as his. As I continued to bob my head, I could feel him gather all my hair in one hand, his other softy tracing down over my temple, my cheek and my lips before stopping at my chin, a single swipe from his thumb removing most if the spit and precum that was threatening to stream down my neck. I would consider my next move a grave mistake - looking up through my damp lashes to meet Deans white-hot gaze fixated and fascinated with every little motion I made. The blissed-out look in his eyes could have turned a weaker woman into a puddle right then and there, and I surprised myself with my own resilience. He continued to hold me with one hand in my hair and a soft grip on my chin, my own free hand moving to grip him near the inside of his thigh. Another soft moan slipped from his lips as I started to speed up, not caring for the ache in my jaw or mess he was now too preoccupied to swipe away. I was surprised when no words left Deans lips, his usual blasphemous language replaced with velvety moans of pleasure. I could tell he was nearing his peak when his cock twitched between my lips, again and again before before he finally groaned out a strained:

“Fuck, oh shit.”

His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me off him, however when that telltale throb made his cock graze the back of my throat I removed my hand from his base and enveloped him in his entirety, a final, breathy gasp and groan tumbling from Deans lips before the sensation of warm, viscous liquid spilled across the back of my tongue. It took a moment for the ropes to stop coming, and when they did I pulled him from my mouth slowly, looking up at his breathless form. Not taking my eyes from his, I parted my lips slightly to show his cum, glazing my tongue, before closing my mouth and swallowing the thick liquid down. He let out another groan, his grip finally releasing my hair as he ran his hands over his face, taking a moment for his eyes to find mine again.

“Holy shit, sweetheart… I feel like I just died and went to heaven.”

I couldn't stop the stupid giggle spilling from my lips as I wiped the spit from my lips and chin with the bottom of Deans shirt that I was wearing.

“For a moment there I thought you had too.”

He grinned down at me, perhaps a little bashful as he tucked himself back into his pants and refastened his belt. As he finished up, a few moments of silence hung over us as I still remained nestled between his strong thighs. His eyes met mine and they seemed to hold a thousand words that he wanted to say, and when nothing came from his lips he simply held out his hand to pull me into his lap. Just as my fingers grazed his, however, there was a loud rap at the window which spooked both of us out of our skin.

“Motherfucker,” Dean muttered before rolling down the window, and a small wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over me when I heard Sam's disbelieving yet humoured voice coming from outside.

“Guys are you fucking serious?!”

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[in-halingstardust]

Unexpected Situation

A/N: Hi hi, its been such a long time and no I'm not dead...Maybe my brain is. But! I am going to start openign up bullet requests again. I have a few requests to get through, but this was stuck in my head for a solid week. dom!caelus x gn!reader x sub!danheng Tags: semi public sex, deep throating, sub and dom dynamics, dirty talk, praise, dirty thoughts~, NOT Beta'd sorry I'm tired :,0

You wonder how you find yourself in these situations.

What situation you might ask?

For one, you only wanted to go to the archives to research information about Xianzhou's local flora and update the records from your last trailblazing.

Second, when you heard the faint cry of Dan Heng come through the archive’s doors, you were on alert. Dan Heng, stone faced though warm, one who never showed his true emotion outwardly, the one who would only talk when he was certain about every single word that would come out of his perfect lips, gives a another cry.

Third, when you slam the door open you are extremely embarrassed at the open debauchery of the Express' silly goober Caelus slamming himself into Dan Heng against the console. Pinned against the archive is Dan Heng, one leg up hooked around Caelus shoulder, the other flexed on the floor as he grips tightly to Callus. He sees you first and in shock gives a rather harsh hit against Caelus back, his only return was a deep thrust.

Dan Heng moans fill the chamber, and you turn deep red. Not out of embarrassment but because it was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed.

It didn’t help that you had massive crush on them both.

Caelus must have eyes behind his head. The next time, Dan Heng whimpers into the crook of his neck he tilts his head back. His eyes are molten gold heavy with pleasure that leads you to feeling extremely warm in your core.

"Hey close the door,” a smirk, “I know you want in."

So when you are on your knees in front of Dan Heng's pink, slightly longer than average dick, you can't help but feel your mouth water.

Caelus runs a finger over Dan Heng’s perky nipples, "Oh pretty boy aren't you excited that they are also here to join us? Tell her how thankful you are," Caelus echoes as he twists his nipples.

Dan Heng's dick twitches in the cutest way possible in front of your nose. You can't believe this is happening.

"I- ah, thank you..." Dan Heng trails off. A full blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you.

Caelus laughs as he retracts his fingers, "Sorry (Y/N), promised Dan Heng, I give him the best fuck of his life." A devious smile curls at his lips, "We can all fuck later if we want to, but right now it's all 'bout our little dragon." Caelus hums as he presses a kiss against Dan Heng's temple. It must have been a distraction since you see Dan Heng's little mouth pucker into an "o" with the filthy sound of Caelus entering him.

Dan Heng's cock swells with each thrust of Caelus, ruining his insides and you? There is something mesmerizing seeing Dan Heng on display. How the cold stone archiver makes so many cute noises right in front of you. He doesn't hide them no- he looks at you with desire and desperation.

He wants you as well.

Something filthy clicks in your mind as you attach your lips to the tip of Dan Heng's cock. Swirling your tongue around his head as your delicate fingers stroke the base.

It's adorable how Dan Heng squeals and moans, the smell of sex filling the room once again.

He only encourages you. Taking him deeper, sucking harder as you place one hand on Dan Heng's thigh to support yourself the other guiding his cock.

What a dichotomy between you and Caelus as you pop off Dan Heng to run your tongue along a fat vein, gently coaxing him. While Caelus ups his pace, squeezing his fingers against Dan Heng's hips in pure animalistic trait.

Another thrust, "Tell her Dan Heng. Tell her about how badly you wanted her here with us. How you wanted to have her lips just like this all over your wet cock." Caelus babbles as he continues to jerk into Dan Heng in turn making his dick go further into the back of your throat till it hits the back.

You can only breath as Dan Heng uses you.

Caelus doesn't stop spilling dirty secrets and you can't help but listen to what they want to do to you. It feels so warm and wet down there, but this is about Dan Heng, not yourself. So, when you breathe in through your nose to swallow more of Dan Heng. He gives a large cry. If it wasn’t for Caelus pinning his arms back and supporting Dan Heng he would of fell from overstimulation.

"Or would you like me to tell (Y/N) about how you wish they were underneath us, taking us both? How you want to touch them all over, how that our thoughts are too dirty, too impure, that poor little baby couldn't take it even though they are taking your monstrous dick like the good little angel.”

Caelus is going faster and faster. You need to keep your hands on Dan Heng's thick thighs to keep balance. You feel him in the back of your throat. He's trying so hard not to gag you. To not make this uncomfortable for you, but it's as his dick swells in your mouth, leaving it full and large.

"Fuck!" Caelus groans against Dan Heng's shoulder. "Don't tighten up like that, feels like you're squeezing me off."

Caelus is going faster and faster. The rhythm is lost as you three are only guided by instinct. He’s close you can tell with the way he swells, the veins as they run along your tongue. It’s a dream, being used like this, the smell, the two of them. Together.

You can't believe how lucky you are.

You feel the stuttering of Dan Heng's thighs and the groans coming from Caelus as he bites his lips, his hips losing its rhythm as he reaches his climax.

Dan Heng cups first. It fills your mouth and gushes down your throat in salty flavor in pulses. His eyes are closed as his hands hold your head still till, he is spent and panting.

Caelus is next as he moans spilling inside of Dan Heng, not even pulling out as he grips Dan Heng tightly to himself whispering sweet thanks into his ears.

You. You let go of Dan Heng's cock with a pop, letting go of his thighs. Your core is wet and hot, but it's not enough to make you feel you're lost in the stars.

Of course. They know this and it's not the end of the night <3.

[bubbleberrypunch]

Ohhhh my god, this would fit so well as a shuggy AU

Buggy gets caught up in all the chaos of the robbery and hides out in a secluded space, but the robbers find him and- they pause. Just completely freeze where they stand. And then they're scrambling back while mumbling up a frenzy between themselves about how that's "him", he's "the guy". "Boss would kill us if we touched him!" So, Buggy is left there cowering on the floor in absolute confusion because what the fuck is going on??? The robbers leave, police come, Buggy sneaks out to go back home since he doesn't wanna talk to the cops (he's definitely done/doing illegal stuff).

He's home and that's when he decides to do some research, which is just looking through news channels and websites and social media ect ect. He's about to just go to bed when he sees that it's suspected the RHG ((Red Hair Gang (dumb name, in Buggy's opinion)) is behind the robbery, among other things. Buggy blows a major fuse when he reads who their leader is. Fucking Shanks. The red haired boy Buggy grew up with and left in the past. HE'S A CRIME LORD NOW!? And he obviously told people about Buggy- Buggy does NOT want to be caught up in gangs and shit. Why did Shanks even talk about him? What for?? God, and Buggy just moved back to his home city a few months ago, he doesn't need this! He slams his laptop closed and starts calling up contacts on his phone; he needs to find Shanks ASAP!

Okay, maybe he was being rash. Because once he finished calling people to look for more information, he finally went to bed. Wakes up in the morning and the realization dawns on him: HE DOESN'T WANT TO SEE SHANKS! Why the hell would he want to go see that bastard?! Wouldn't that just make things worse??? It'd be better for him to just forget about it and not go chasing ghosts. Right, so he gets up with the final decision that he isn't going to do anything at all and will stay at home today. And then there's knocking on his door. Buggy instantly breaks out in a cold sweat. Creeping along his hallway, stumbling through his living room, hesitantly standing at the door and sees someone he doesn't recognize through the peep hole. His breathing becomes shaky, jumps out of his skin when the person knocks again with a tad bit more aggression. His hand is trembling when he slowly reaches up to turn the door knob (Gah! He forgot to lock the damn door! Is he trying to get killed?!). Buggy cracks the door open a sliver to peer out at the stranger before him.

"You Buggy?" The unknown man asks, staring straight into Buggy's soul.

"Uh, y-yes...?"

"Come with me." He makes a motion to follow him while turning to walk off.

"Why the hell should I?! I don't know who you are!" Buggy grips the door so tight his fingertips become pale.

"My boss wants to see you." The guy stands there, half turned, and staring at him with thinly veiled annoyance.

Tapping his fingers against the door in quick succession, eyes darting here and there to avoid any more eye contact, Buggy tries to come up with- with something! Anything! He needs to stall for time.

"C-Can I at least get dressed...? Before we go? I just got out of bed, you see...", he trails off and lets out a nervous chuckle. The man heaves a big sigh, shoulders drooping, and nods his head yes. Closing the door in a somewhat calm matter, Buggy all but scrambles back to his bedroom.

Oh, no! That's definitely one of Shanks's henchmen, isn't it? It's very clear now that when you go around asking about gang leaders, word travels fast. Way too fast for Buggy's liking, that's for sure! He can't go. He absolutely cannot! What's Buggy going to do? He's trapped! Tears roll down his face because he's highly emotional, and his vision blurs while he gets dressed into his normal day wear. He takes a glance at his bedroom window...

Yeah, he's clambering out the window. Falls out of said window, the metal he lands on is not comfortable in the least, and then he begins climbing down the fire escape. He'll just hide out at one of his friends', probably go to Alvida's place. Stay there for a few days, lay low until he's sure no one will be hovering over his home for when he gets back. As soon as he's got just a few more ladder rungs to go, the ground is right there under him, Buggy is yanked and thrown off! No! So close! Buggy is now being held by someone who clearly did training of some kind, his ribs are gonna splinter. So, there wasn't just one guy here to retrieve him. Great.

Buggy is dragged from the alley and towards a black vehicle, all but tossed into the backseat. He sees through the tinted window the first guy walking out of the apartment building and to the driver's side, the second man sits in the front seat.

"Put your seatbelt on."

A withering sigh leaves him as he reluctantly obeys. Guess that's it, huh? There's no escape now, unless he wants to jump out of a moving vehicle and risk getting fatally injured. At least Buggy had enough sense to grab his phone- if he ends up being held against his will at wherever he's being taken, his friends can just track it. Closing his eyes and crossing his arms tight across his chest, hunching in over himself, he leans his head against the window.

[yangqism]

eternal sunshine | a wayv series

– six men. one iconic drama. the world is captivated by their stellar performance in eternal sunshine that they cannot wait to see what the future holds for these superstars. but behind the fame, they are just like everyone else–desperate to feel what it’s like to love and to be loved, without judgment from others. torn between longing for normalcy and fear of losing everything they’ve worked for, they live in the shadows of their own desires, trapped in a cycle of longing, loneliness, and regrets. in a world where love is their greatest vulnerability, how far will they go to risk it all?

a/n. reader is afab. you can read them in no particular order, the storyline is not connected with each other. this is heavily inspired by ariana grande's eternal sunshine!!! such a fantastic album

don't wanna break up again ₊˚ෆ actor!dong sicheng x singer!reader

SYNOPSIS. love and sicheng don't complement each other. despite being aware of that fact, it doesn’t stop you from coming back again and again, even if your set-up consumes you. or, you and sicheng are in an on and off situationship because he’s afraid of commitment.

READ HERE.

we can't be friends ₊˚ෆ actor!liu yangyang x actress!reader

SYNOPSIS. yangyang is born to be a star, the kind of talent that lights up the screen. you, on the other hand, is a nepo baby who everyone believed got the lead role because of your family’s influence. he fought all these years to be the man that he is while you are still busy proving yourself to the populace. you believe you’re more than just your parents. he believes he’s less than without his fans. when your lives become intertwined, things get messy–one has never tasted consequences while the other lies awake at night, haunted by the thought of it.

READ HERE.

eternal sunshine ₊˚ෆ photojournalist!ten lee x makeup artist!reader

SYNOPSIS. everyone knows that ten is a passionate photojournalist, capturing the world’s genuine moments with his incomparable artistry that leaves viewers speechless. you, on the other hand, are sicheng’s makeup artist, who happened to be ten’s past lover. that one photograph of ten who won a prestigious award recently? that’s you. that’s you when you were still his muse, frozen in time while doing sicheng’s makeup. once inseparable, now estranged, the image reopened wounds of your messy breakup. while other people admired your radiant smile, you never had the guts to check it because it reminded you of the good times. the times when you thought he’s your eternity.

COMING SOON!

imperfect for you ₊˚ෆ golden boy!kun x director!reader

SYNOPSIS. seasoned actor, known as THE golden boy, qian kun, finds himself enchanted by the director of the series he’s starring in. now, they are on the second season and days feel daunting as his feelings start to get deeper and you keep on avoiding him, afraid to commit to someone as perfect as him

COMING SOON!

boy, bye! ₊˚ෆ actor!wong kunhang x intern!reader

SYNOPSIS. everyone on set knows that hendery is a walking red flag. from his sharp tongue to his nasty attitude, oh, everyone hates being around him. but things are a little different with you, the intern nurse the director requested from your university. while the rest of the crew fear him, you find yourself entangled with him every night, teaching you anatomy far beyond the books–making you confused as to what you guys really are.

COMING SOON!

supernatural ₊˚ෆ vampire!xiao dejun x researcher!reader

SYNOPSIS. why is dejun always nowhere to be found? because he’s afraid of human contact that is! being born a vampire, dejun has found it weird that he became famous. you know those jokes on twitter where they say dejun is, hypothetically, an alien but became famous so now he can’t go back? that’s true. but he’s not an alien, HE'S A VAMPIRE! your quiet, dungeon life is upended when the director of the series, and your friend, drags you out of your laboratory to visit her on the filming site of her on-going series. you think it’s a waste of time – until dejun appears before your eyes, and suddenly, you’re not so sure which one of you is really hiding from this world.

COMING SOON!

yangqism, 2024.

[froidefille]

Day 10: a fest/event fic

📚 Nothing Gold Can Stay by @moonflower-rose

Draco/Harry, 40k, E

Written for: H/D Erised 2023

Summary:

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case.

It’s one of those accidentally-got-himself-into-alternate-universe-where-he-has-a-husband-and-three-kids stories. And there is just something about this kind of story that gets me: the way Harry just wants to come home at first but then misses his AU home like crazy. And the way we stay in the original universe with Draco! Usually, those stories follow one of the boys into to the alternate universe with all the the domesticity and happiness and losing his mind about it. So getting this mirrored version of the one that stays was such a treat!

I really appreciate when there’s an actual logic behind these multi-dimensional incidents other than just *magic*. And here, with Harry being Unspeakable working on a research project about soulmate lore which got him to an alternate dimension where he’s married to Draco with three kids and a hypogriff named Parsley... I mean 😭

I love how Draco slowly becomes part of Harry’s family while he’s not actually here ("it's all part of the service"). And the angst when the other Harry comes through (and gets mad at the original Harry for Sectumsempra!!!) and then more angst as he comes back because the fools fall in love with each other again (“You’re my favourite person in every universe.” *cries* *cries some more*). And then when poor poor original Harry comes back and falls to pieces. No wonder, I feel like as we were slowly finding out the details of his domestic alternate universe, we are right there on the floor with him. Belly! Parsley!!

Also the way Harry and his friends are known as "The War Kids" 😭 When they find Harry’s journal and it's full of Draco including the picture 😭 😭 When Draco sets up new ward runes and he’s not even on the list 😭 😭 😭

This fic really has it all - the plot is well-thought out, it has such a funny banter, and it will make you hurt in the best way <3

Okay, let me stop here before I go and read it yet again xd

Thank you for today’s prompt @hprecfest and until the next one!

Excerpts (and spoilers) under the cut <3

“I care about you very much. I probably haven’t told you that, because we’re work friends. We’re not…it’s not the same as being your real friend. Well, what I mean is, it is the same for me, more so, actually—I’m not making sense.” “Not remotely,” Potter said, his brow creased and half a crust between his teeth. “We’re not real friends?” “No, Potter—I mean, yes. Salazar’s tits. You are one of my dearest friends. And. And I love you.” Potter chewed slowly, still looking at Draco through narrowed, confused eyes. “...Thank you?” “You’re welcome?” Draco said automatically. Upstairs in the sitting room the Floo roared to life, and Weasley’s voice bellowed, “Harry?” “Kitchen!”

It just got me laughing so much ^^

"Fancy a cuppa?” “It’s nearly four in the morning, Potter!” “Is that a no?” “No,” Draco said. He was exhausted, but he was still English.

🤣

“Keep your hair on,” Harry shot back, making absolutely no effort to hide his amusement. “I didn’t want to assume. You know what happens when you make an assumption, don’t you?” Draco looked at him blankly. “You make an ass of you and umption.” When Draco still didn’t respond, Harry stopped putting slices of bacon into the big pan and put his hands on his hips instead. “The Long Kiss Goodnight? Samuel L Jackson? Geena Davis?” “Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak. I can say random words too.” “Oh my god,” Harry groaned, and resumed laying out the bacon. “This is a classic Draco, a classic. I think I’ve watched it every Christmas since we graduated from school.”

“You make an ass of you and umption.” 😂

And then - the wild angst appears!

“She was the one who started calling me Uncle Daddy. It was supposed to be Uncle Harry, but she couldn’t quite wrap her head around that I guess, since she’s only two. She sets the tone around the house, you know. It’s Belly’s rules, and the boys all fall into line.”

Belly !!! I love her

“What do you need?” Draco asked, already halfway out of bed and coming towards Potter. Potter took a hitching breath. “You. I need you.”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.1

So disclaimer: I took screenshots instead of photographing my screen this time, but the quality of footage is a thousand times worse so the images are still mostly shit. But anyway, here we go :)

We're going to have to keep a tally on how many times they refer to their relationship in romantic terms. Less than a minute in, Paul has used the description, “great love affair.”

And John's right on his heels with “the sexual equivalent of . . . People in love.” So there's 2 already. Oh boy.

That opening montage of John and Paul just living for the light in each other's eyes should actually be the official music video for “I wanna hold your hand.”

Also I wonder how many songs they have about hiding. Someone's got to have a list somewhere right?

I adore the absolute lack of reaction to John manhandling Paul.

And then This Look. He's in love with him, ladies and gentlemen.

I remember seeing somewhere that this footage was literally right after they'd finished “she loves you.” Which was pretty recently after Bob Wooler, which was right after Barcelona. And if you're like me and you think that song is secretly about their relationship? If Paul's just been singing “she said you hurt her so, she almost lost her mind, but now she says she knows you're not the hurting kind. She said she loves you” at you, after all of that? Of course John's acting like a fucking puppy dog.

Poor George tally number 1

Excuse me??? John wants to live in the Beatle apartment instead of with his actual literal wife until Paul decides to move in with his girlfriend? What? He's so insane. Cynthia, you're lucky Paul's a fucking social climber.

I think it's indicative of two things that Paul said “screw secret girlfriends” while John happily went along with secret wives. One: different levels of security in masculinity (John doesn't have gay eyebrows etc) and two: different relationships. Jane and Paul's relationship was a smart career move for both of them and I think, being upper-class, and having her own career, and not being a mother, Jane was in more of a position to have a say.

Every time I watch that footage of Ken Dodd asking about their parents I physically cringe. Poor poor babies. Do your research you idiot! I don't think that ever happened again. I wonder if Brian made sure of that.

Paul literally talks like such a husband here. “We've thought about it, and probably the thing that John and I will do . . .”

Obsessed with Paul shouldering himself between George and John after George's little joke shove. It's so protective and yet so subtle. Exactly the same strong posture and easy smile as when he stepped between John and that interviewer during the Jesus scandal.

Poor George tally number 2 (you can't quite tell from the pic but John is shoving him out of the way because how dare he put his suitcase by Paul's?! That's John's suitcase's spot!!)

All the Beatles were cuddly with each other. It's one of the cutest bits about them, the puppies in a basket aspect. But I think we'll need a “noticable spacing difference” tally for this rewatch, too, and here's the first.

Paul wearing John's hat for attention and it fully and completely doing the job? They're so embarrassing!

I actually love that John's imitation of his upper-class Scottish family (which Paul can't do) is actually much more convincing than his broad Liverpudlian (which Paul nails in two variations, one based off his own family) I'm obsessed with the class dynamics between them.

Poor George tally three. He shares this one with Ringo. That moment when Paul's pretending to interview them about their purple hearts and cuts them both off with, “thank you. Mi-mister Lennon,” and John and Paul proceed to completely forget the other two exist for who knows how long – certainly longer than the videographer was willing to record.

I find John sliding into Paul's raspy “tiiight yeeeah” with his very turned on “mmmMM it's been a hard” extremely suggestive. I'm sorry but I do.

It's like he thinks if he looks away for too long he's going to disappear or something. Which. Now that I said that. Yeah. That is what it is. Poor separation-issues baby.

Ringo: Paul, you wrote a beautiful song and you sing it great. John: yeah and you're SEXY! Let's not forget that, everyone.

Am I crazy to obsess over every little musical similarity in their songs? Yes. Can I help it? No. The little “oh-oh ohoho” in the If I Fell demo is exactly the same as in Imagine and (frothing and writhing) it means something I can feel it! I just have no idea what.

I also find the lyric change from “i hope that she won't cry” to “i hope that she will cry” extremely interesting. There's always a heterosexual explanation. Trust me, the straights are the Simone Biles of mental gymnastics. But while the published lyric can be read as a man bitter toward his ex girlfriend hoping to hurt her by flaunting his new relationship, the demo version is trickier. Could it be that he doesn't want to hurt his wife's feelings by letting her know he's in love with someone else? But who else could John Lennon possibly have been in love with at the time?

“Too too much in love. Woah, too too much in love with you.” My heart