#WHOSE GONNA TELL EM

[babufrik]

PEOPLE ON TIK TOK THINK PEDRO PASCAL AND SARAH PAULSON DATED I????!-@1@1&1

[bravevolunteer]

funniest fucking thing to happen this week is people somehow managing to think the “MICHAEL DON’T LEAVE ME HERE” audio is from the SUBMARINE💀💀

[theflyingfeeling]

I don’t know if I’m just imagining things but I feel like Olli and Aleksi are actually so close 🥺 for example I feel like they post so many pics together and I know they post with others too and it’s not a big deal but e.g. Olli has posted 5 pics with someone else this year and 3 of them are with Aleksi.. so it must mean something right?? 🥺 and I feel like they spend a lot of time together yk even ”outside the band” when they’re having a day off and they still do music (the remix) etc. together 😭

Yeah I mean I for one am so deep in the Olli/Allu delulu land that it's VERY easy for me to agree and confirm all of this 😭 they're boyfriends secret lovers special friends and it shows 🥺

Here are all the pictures of the two of them I could find on Olli's IG, for reference 💞

+ the group picture Olli posted when Aleksi first joined the band, with the caption 'so now there's six of us' 🥺

[peapod20001]

Hello did you know that I <3 can only really doodle in one class (I draw mostly eyes if you couldn’t tell lmao)

[teaboot]

I seriously hope you can job hop to something else cause you're not chaotic neutral man.

You're still a white Canadian whose actions and job help more the megacorps keep the status quo.

I really looked up to you but that's on me.

And yeah, I know security, cop shit and military pay good money but at the cost of my people? Fuck no.

Listen. I feel you. But there's a lot of cold, power-tripping bastards in this line of work and if I stick where I am then they don't get to have that.

I'm not a cop. I am not beholden to the justice system. Sometimes I get contracted out to people who say shit like "addicts should be put down, if you see any crackheads drag them out" and I nod and say "yes sir", and then I take their money and use it to buy those people coffee and a sandwich and tell 'em when free lunch days are at the church.

Boss sees me walking with someone and thinks I'm kicking them out, gives my boss great reviews. I'm having a great conversation with Connie, who used to by a stylist and wound up on the street after an accident that left her with chronic pain and a heroin addiction. Connie learns that there's a gap between two property lines nearby where technically nobody can call to have her removed.

There's a really sweet guy in town who's normally very nice, but sometimes flies into paranoid rage and yells slurs at people. Sometimes he forgets he's been banned from places and wanders in looking for a wife he hasn't had for nine years. Owner sends me to kick him out, and I ask "hey Mike, how are you?" And see where we are today.

One time there was a guy whose abusive ex kept following him to work, and I got to walk him to his car at the end of every day to make sure she couldn't get him alone.

Another person had a stalker who kept asking receptionists when she was gonna be there, when she was supposed to leave, if she was in today. I'd keep record of every time he came in, every time someone saw him, every time he violated his restraining order or damaged her things.

And when I wonder if I'm actually helping or not, or if I'm part of the greater problem, I remember that other people who work with me call homeless people wildlife and talk about how bad they wanna get an excuse to fight someone and I remember that I'm the one who knows where the blind spots on the cameras are, and thank God it's not him.

My position is fundamentally different from that of the military or law enforcement. I don't *need* to be buddy-buddy with most of these dickheads- I don't *need* to send people into the justice system.

I do single-person foot patrol. Nobody cares how I get the job done. They say, "Hey, faceless goon number three- make that bastard disappear" and I say "on it, boss" and give him tickets to disney world.

I once asked another guard if he knew that one of our regulars used to be an airplane technician. He said, "No, I don't talk to them". Blanket "Them". "Them" as in street people. "Them" as in addicts, or shoplifters, or ex-cons, or sex workers.

I asked why, and he told me, "it's easier if you don't think of them as people."

Anyhow, now I get calls to "watch that sketchy lady who just came in" and I say, "yes, sir" and leave her the fuck alone, 'cause that's Jolene, and people always think she's on drugs and aggressive but she's just deaf in one ear and slurs cause she has brain damage, you dickhead

so yeah, don't worry, I've spent a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of my vocation, and I still think I'd rather be in charge of my locations than someone like Darryl, who dreams of "cuffing a perp" and drives a car with Punisher decals on the hood

Also it's minimum wage but that's kinda tangential

[matoitech]

this isnt even getting into how iffy i am abt this whole common statement from ppl in the first place bcuz i feel like when 98% of these folks go to list out what they wish was happening with/to lgbt characters in media they just describe stereotypes and bigotry that makes up the majority of media anyway

u guys cannot keep only watching kids shows and then complaining about being sick of 'good' gay rep 😭 please put heartstopper down and watch something not made for kids i promise you will find the messy lgbts u so desperately crave. please tell me u understand why childrens cartoons focus is on being cute

[unclewaynemunson]

"What. The. Fuck."

Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.

Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.

"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."

"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"

"Eddie, sit down."

"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"

"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."

"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.

"Then whose is she?"

"I told ya to sit down, Ed."

And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.

"Your dad was here earlier."

Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.

"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."

It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.

Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.

"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.

"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."

"Jesus Christ, what a mess."

"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."

Eddie swallows thickly.

"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."

Eddie nods.

"You wanna hold her?"

He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.

"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."

It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.

Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.

“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.

She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.

He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.

“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.

Wayne turns his head back to him.

“Bout what?”

“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”

Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 (𝐞𝐩𝐬. 𝟏-𝟒) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  dialogue  prompts  taken from episodes 1 - 4  of max's  the  penguin  (2024),  created  by  lauren  lefranc.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit.. )

❛ i see you've made yourself at home. ❜

❛ so this new deal you got going... maybe i can help. ❜

❛ you know what i like most about you? you are who you are. you couldn't change if you tried. ❜

❛ you got a girl? good looking guy like you... ❜

❛ can you imagine? to be remembered like that? revered? ❜

❛ you really think people’d make a float of your dumb face and march it down the street, chanting your goddamn name? ❜

❛ you messed with the wrong fucking guy on the wrong fucking night. ❜

❛ you’re gonna do everything i say. or else i’ll murder you and, uh... anyone you care about. ❜

❛ what do you think of this? it’s a little air freshener. aqua paradise. you smell it? ❜

❛ we used to go there every day in the summer. you know, we’d mix the flavors for a suicide. you ever mix the flavors? ❜

❛ i ain’t trying to get in your business, but... i need an alibi. ❜

❛ i asked for extra pickles, and they give me two? so what, a normal amount of pickles is one? makes no goddamn sense. ❜

❛ there’s a nice sunrise behind you. you should take a look. ❜

❛ i could help you with whatever it is. whatever you need, whatever it is, all right? ❜

❛ well, maybe it’d be useful, keeping you around. for now. ❜

❛ but if you step out of line just once, i swear to god, i’ll gut you like a fucking fish. do you understand? ❜

❛ all right, listen, if i don’t come out... nah, i’ll be fine. you’ll be fine. it’s gonna be fine. ❜

❛ you know, maybe you don’t like me. that’s fine. i’m an acquired taste. ❜

❛ i’ve been rehabilitated. ❜

❛ you’ve really moved up in the world, haven’t you? ❜

❛ are you nervous? i’d hate for you to feel nervous with me. ❜

❛ you know, people underestimate you, but not me. i’ve always known you were capable of more. ❜

❛ this city is meant to be yours, sweetheart. what are you gonna do to get it? ❜

❛ the world wasn’t built for guys like us. that’s why we gotta take whatever we decide is ours. ❜

❛ but i gotta know. no bullshit. can i count on you to pull through? ❜

❛ i know who you are. i know what you are. i don’t work with people whose loyalty is for sale. ❜

❛ i’m gonna run this goddamn city. and i want you in on it. ❜

❛ i'm not safe. i'm home. ❜

❛ very, very convenient that, all of a sudden, you’re on my side. ❜

❛ you are scrambling for whatever dignity you have left and you’re hoping i will save you. ❜

❛ rough night, detective? ❜

❛ i refuse to let these old fucking men push me aside again, like i’m nothing. so, i’m going to take from them now. ❜

❛ you in? ❜

❛ let's dance. ❜

❛ you act like wanting more is a bad thing, but, i mean, don’t you want a better life than this? ❜

❛ are we, uh, kinda... partners now? ❜

❛ i mean, you fucked up. huge. but you learned, right? ❜

❛ whaddaya think the new clothes are for? you’re my guy. can’t have you lookin’ like a schmuck. ❜

❛ and from now on, you want something, you ask for it. ❜

❛ how’s anyone supposed know your worth unless you tell ’em, huh? ❜

❛ man of the hour, i was just thinking about you... ❜

❛ you do anything stupid, i’ll sense it. ❜

❛ that’s why you’re here. you seem to know everybody’s business. so, now’s your time to shine. ❜

❛ you’ve got a good thing going here. i’m really happy for you. ❜

❛ i know you’re not right in the head. i mean, that’s pretty damn clear. but i’m not scared of you. ❜

❛ you think i’d come here empty-handed? come on, we both know that if i ever truly left you hanging, there'd be a bullet between my eyes. ❜

❛ i got a real opportunity for you here, but it’s kinda hard to focus with a gun pointed at my face. ❜

❛ you got fight in you. you gotta let it out. ❜

❛ you’re fun at a card game, or over drinks, i’ll give you that. but people don’t keep you around because they think you’re smart. and they sure as shit don’t trust you. ❜

❛ i wouldn’t ask you to do this if i didn’t know you could handle it. i believe in you, kid. ❜

❛ i can't tell who wants this move. me or you. ❜

❛ i want this for you. ❜

❛ what you did to me. was it worth it? did you get everything that you wanted? ❜

❛ you wanna go, what are you waiting for? fuckin’ go. ❜

❛ you coulda left whenever you wanted. but you chose to stay. how about you ask yourself why. ❜

❛ i fucked you over. that what you wanna hear? ❜

❛ i’m fuckin’ sorry for everything that’s happened to you. ❜

❛ you meant something to me. still do. ❜

❛ i don’t know where to go from here. i don’t know how to trust you. ❜

❛ you need a cigarette, take the edge off? ❜

❛ a lobotomy couldn’t take the edge off. ❜

❛ when the time comes, i want you to take my place. i want you to run this family... if that’s something that would interest you. ❜

❛ they know you're mine. they'll do as i say. ❜

❛ why would you do this now? picking away at old wounds... you know how it upsets me. ❜

❛ you still haven’t told me what you want for your birthday. ❜

❛ i don’t need your advice. i don’t care what you think. no one does. you are my driver. that is all you are. so stop talking and drive. ❜

❛ listen, i get that you’re angry, you know. but i was just doing my job, looking out for you. ❜

❛ i’m not gonna make it in a place like that. i’m gonna die in there. ❜

❛ it’s okay to be scared. i was scared at first, too, but it’s not so bad here. you get used to the noises. ❜

❛ a woman beat the shit out of me while everyone stood around and watched. so, yeah, i had an incident. ❜

❛ i don’t know how to convince you i’m sane when you’ve already made up your mind about me. ❜

❛ i told you i’m fucking innocent. ❜

❛ i’m gonna get you something to eat. if you wanna get cleaned up, there’s a towel and a change of clothes in the guest bath upstairs. ❜

❛ i trusted him... when everything in my body told me not to. i should have killed him when i had the chance. ❜

❛ you abandoned me. ❜

❛ i left because i had to. because i could. i know you didn’t have that choice, but I’m here now. ❜

❛ you don’t have to pretend with me. ❜

❛ i haven’t forgotten, you know? the way you looked at me. so curious. ❜

❛ what did it feel like? to get to watch a person unravel? and now, you’re numbing yourself as punishment. ❜

❛ they think i'm broken. i'm not broken. ❜

❛ i'm not the one who's sick. and neither are you. the world is. ❜

❛ for the first time, i have hope. ❜

❛ to new beginnings. cent’anni. ❜

[c0llisiion]

DAY 18 — SEUNGMIN

★ npr, f!reader, exhibitionism , reader x seungmin x jeongin , fingering, voyeur — lmk if i missed any!!; W/C: 659

Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day18 is officially out <3

This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.

“Look at him pretty… keep your eyes on him…” Seungmin whispered in your ears lewdly as he massaged your breasts and played with your clothed pussy. 

You gulped and looked at Seungmin’s closest friend, whose eyes were fixated on the wet patch forming on your panties. 

The entire setup was making you wet, and you couldn’t deny it. You were sitting on Seungmin’s lap while another man observed the way your body touched and traced your body. It was oddly arousing. 

Even Seungmin found it arousing. He had a big thing for showing you off, and when he found out that Jeongin never romantically involved himself with any woman, let alone never even seen a naked woman in real life other than his go-to porn, he knew he should take advantage of that. 

“These are all her sensitive places..” he explained, flicking your perky nipples, making you wince and squirm. “Here…” his fingers dragged down your body, leaving a trail of heat as it reached your clit. “And here…” he said, pressing onto the nub, making you close your thighs around his hand before he quickly swatted your thigh, making you whimper and open up again. “That will get em.” He said, with a wink and a mischievous grin. 

Jeongin nodded, mentally taking notes. He couldn’t lie to himself and say that he didn’t find you attractive. You were the hottest among all the other girlfriends of his oldest ones. 

He gulped unconsciously as he eyed you down. You were perfect. The way your chest heaved. Your soft curves. The way your panties stuck to your folds. God, it was enchanting.

Seungmin noticed his body language and smirked before making you lean back against him more, your pelvic region now in the clear view of Jeongin. 

Seungmin quickly snapped your underwear, making it rip and fall onto his lap.

You gasp and look at him offended. “You know I can buy you more pretty… For now, let's just focus on giving a little show to Jeongin, alright?” He said softly, and you nodded before looking at Jeongin, whose eyes were wide as he stared at your glistening pussy.

Seungmin dragged his fingers over your folds, feeling how wet you are. He hisses. “soaking wet, baby… you are really enjoying this, aren’t you?” He asks with a smirk, his fingers prodding into your sopping wet entrance. You groan and buck your hips against his fingers.

Seungmin looks at the younger, scrutinizing his reactions to him playing with your pussy. “What should I do to her..? You tell me, boss.” Seungmin teased.

Jeongin was quickly brought back to earth at Seungmin’s interruption. “H-huh..? Oh-“  he paused. “I-uh.. put.. put your fingers in…” he said shyly, avoiding your gaze. 

Seungmin grinned before placing a kiss to your cheek. “Brace yourself, baby…”

Seungmin’s fingers started with a toe curling pace. He didn’t even build up the speed. Straight to hard and fast. You gasped and squirmed. Your stomach caving in as he drove his fingers in and out of your pussy. His hard thumb pressing onto your clit making you cry out. 

Seungmin gripped your thigh open, making sure you didn’t close up again. 

Your pussy spasmed around his fingers. The digits curling into your gspot, making you moan out louder and clench.

“Shit… baby your pussy is taking my fingers so well… fuck so wet…” he breathed out. 

“Gonna have you coming on my fingers… yeah? You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You nod incoherently at his words, gripping his wrists as his fingers go inhumanely fast in your cunny. 

Loud sloshes and squishes echoed off the living room walls. Your arousal dropping down your hole onto the couch cushions. Seungmin’s fingers, covered in a thin layer. 

You glanced at Jeongin, who was more than mesmerized by the sight. It almost looked like he was drooling! Seungmin too glanced at the younger, with a wide smirk.

“Wanna join in on the fun?” 

Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr @kpopsmutty69 @jisunglyricist @targaryenluvs @yuminhyunn @chansramennn @anylady-fics @marihoneywk @mikaelless @paboskzfan @lezleeferguson-120 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @felixsangelicfreckles @vtyb23

If you want to be part of the taglist, lmk!!

[shixcherie]

🏴‍☠️ ATEEZVerse ☆

Hey! ma cherie. Welcome to my official Ateez's masterlist.All of my oneshots, reactions, thrists/drabbles and series will be here. Eat 'em up.

STARTED ON : 1st oct'24 | LAST UPDATED : 10 dec'24 | FIC COUNTER : 30

↬ 8 MAKES 1 TEAM ~ OT8 HEADCANONS ↫

coming soon...

↬ POLYTEEZ (two or more members) ↫

Damsel In Stress : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience. {YunGi Bodyguards Au}

King, Queen & The Rose : In the adrenaline-fueled realm of Formula 1, you finds herself drawn to the mysterious "The Rose" despite having your boyfriend San. A steamy night sparks brings confessions, undeniable chemistry and chaos. Will you choose your King or the Rose ? Or Both ? {SanHwa F1 Racers Au}

Sharing Is Caring : After hearing his precious angel struggling with loneliness in his absence, Hongjoong suggest a solution. That solution is Park Seonghwa.Will he be your one-stop remedy, or will someone become possessive along the way? {SeongJoong Idols Au}

Can We Keep Her ? : What started as a cheeky game of playful hacking quickly turned into a nightmare as you found yourself trapped by the most feared mafia gang in town. With your survival hinging on successfully completing your first mission, you begin to warm up to your teammates, San and Wooyoung. Will this be where it ends, or could you end up being claimed by the entire group ? {WooSan Mafia Au}

Hit After Hit : As you're cooped up in stress while working on ATEEZ's title track, your bestie Wooyoung suggests a little game. Yunho and Mingi join in on the fun, helping to take your stress away while you cook up a banger title track for ATEEZ’s comeback. {YunGi Idols Au}

Reel Or Real : Dressed up as Elena, with Jongho and Yeosang as Damon and Stefan for the Halloween shoot, you wonder if the lines between reel and real might blur as the three of you decide to wind down in the vocal room after the hectic shoot. {JongSang Idols Au}

Mutual Midnight Madness : After a hectic day at work, you decide to hop on a video call with your boyfriends, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San. A special gift from San becomes your source of joy, while the boys keep you entertained all night. {WooSanSang Idols Au}

Whose The Boss, Babe ? : In the boardroom, you are the BOSS fighting to secure the best deals for your beloved idols. But behind closed doors, in the comfort of your bed when your three dashingly handsome and irresistibly sexy lovers San, Yunho, and Wooyoung shower you with all their love. Then, the tables turn. They become the BOSSES, and you’re their BABE. {YunWooSan Idols Au}

↬ ONESHOTS ↫

☆ HONGJOONG ☆

Bathbombs & Little Deaths : What do bath bombs and little deaths (orgasms) have in common? When they burst, the aftermath is heavenly and ultra soothing. And HongJoong is here to give you both. Will you survive what Joongie has planned for you in the warmth of the bathtub, or experience a little death in the process? {Boyfreind Au}

Sweet Like A Cherry : A birthday fling takes a shocking twist when you discover the man,Hongjoong you had a lil too much fun with is your dad’s best friend, and now you're stuck together on a family yatch with him with undeniable tension. {Dilf Au}

Who’s Gonna Tell Her ? : After a grand festival, a blissful night of Phoenix Kingdom’s rice wine, and sweet encounters with Prince Hongjoong, will you, the Dragon Princess, be able to resist him or will you surrender completely as he takes your innocence? Is this the end, or are wedding bells about to ring? {Royal Au}

☆ SEONGHWA ☆

Love Is Blind, Truely : Blindfolded adventures with Seonghwa, especially in the city of love, could turn out to be this pleasurable, something you never expected. So many firsts on this trip, from the veil to anal, both of your pleasures knew no limits. {Boyfreind Au}

Finally Found You : Seonghwa finally found you and have no intention of letting you go ever. Childhood friends meeting after ten years, a wild night with some cold ice while you explore each other’s temprature.What more could you ask for ? {Childhood Friend Au}

Got My Eyes On You : A reckless, spooky game on Halloween night traps Seonghwa in vivid, sinful dreams of a seductive succubus, leaving him breathless and wanting more. But when he finds himself alone in a love hotel in Japan, staring up at you, the irresistible creature of his fantasies that is when he realizes his darkest dreams are about to come true, as reality and desire collide in one unforgettable night. {Succubus Au}

☆ YUNHO ☆

Switch Me Up Like Nintendo : Riling Yunho up has its dangerous consequences, but you can't resist the thrill, especially when you know his rewards will leave you craving more. Angry Yunho = GodMode unclocked! {Gamer BF Au}

Oh Ma Chérie : Yunho loves your doll-like eyes filled with tears, and you decide to give him exactly that, knowing it drives him wild. You were supposed to catch up after two years, but all you could catch was your breath with his long, thick cock in your mouth. {Neighbour Au}

Chemistry Better Than Chemistry : They say your chemistry with Yunho is better than any experiment in the lab, yet all you two do is fight. But with your research paper publication hanging in the balance, a kiss to shut him up, and a wild night in the lab… are these enemies about to become lovers? {Lab Partner Au}

Gonna Make You Rock Hard : Under dim lights and the cover of a masquerade party, you’re alone with Yunho, the man you’ve been craving all night, with only one rule: the mask stays on. What starts as a playful bet with Wooyoung soon turns into a sultry, forbidden encounter behind closed doors, where every whispered word and heated touch makes the stakes feel deliciously higher. {Stranger in the bar Au}

☆ YEOSANG ☆

Took Me To The Stars : Yeosang’s fantasies run wild, from wanting to show you the stars to having passionate sex in theater costumes. It all begins with you helping him ease his tension, but leaves him craving more of you. A deal is struck, promising a night filled with lust, an offer you would never want to pass up. {Theatre Actor Au}

Lust At First Bite : Yeosang didn’t wish for this, but transforming you was the only way to snatch you from the fangs of death. But is he regretting his decision as he takes you deep in front of the huge mirror in his study? Not a single bit. {BestFriend Au}

☆ SAN ☆

This Kitten Purrs : When tension runs high and nothing seems to work, you decide to throw one final bait for your roommate San to take, enlightening him of your desires. This time, he actually takes it, reciprocating with equal passion and intensity. Game night turns into a wild night of intense pleasure—riding thighs with hands and mouths everywhere, making this kitten purr. {Roommate Au}

I Really Like Your Body : A private gym room, an irresistibly handsome personal trainer named San with his unsatible hunger to take you right then and there and a promise to show you the heights of ecstasy. Will you surrender to the temptation ? {Personal Trainer Au}

☆ MINGI ☆

Best Student Ever : If Mingi had to describe you in two words, they’d be unpredictable and heavenly. After all, who shows up unannounced and sucks the life out of him, doing it exceptionally well? Only his best student. {Professor Au}

Gut Feelings Got Me Here : As a princess, you were not accustomed to hearing “No” from anyone in the kingdom. That changed when you had your first encounter with Mingi, the royal sculptor, whose silent, mysterious, and dark personality drew you in like a curious kitten. Will curiosity kill this kitten, or will a love so powerful emerge from all the painfully pleasurable “torture” that even death itself would be moved aside ? {Royal Sculptor Au}

☆ WOOYOUNG ☆

Rum To My Whiskey : He called you the rum to his whiskey, his partner in crime and his best friend. All it took was a few shots, a risky bet, and a night of unexpected passion to tear down those walls. Best friends won’t be best friends after this wild night, I guess. {BestFriend Au}

Sweet Candid Saturdays : Associating with notorious photographer, Wooyoung was bad news, you knew that clearly. But after experiencing the magic his fingers could work inside you, you couldn't help but want more. So, you decided to step into Wooyoung’s world, unaware of the scandals that were about to follow. {Photographer Au}

No More Keep Control : What happens when you and your darling employee, Wooyoung decide to indulge in a sweet office romance, with no more keeping control ? {Office Au}

☆ JONGHO ☆

I Love You 3000 : A lap dance can do a lot of things. It could bring Jongho running to your door, drenched in rain just for a taste of you. {Lawyer Au}

Bunny Card Never Declines : After a messy breakup, Jongho seeks comfort in a charming bunny, unaware of the surprises ahead. Will this new pet awaken desires that blur the lines between affection and temptation? {Bunny Hybrid Au}

His Favorite Problem : In the middle of the bar’s chaos, Jongho’s protective instincts kick in as he spots you. But instead of showing gratitude, you can’t resist stirring him up a little too much. Now, he’s set on teaching you a lesson, and you’re in for a long night of delicious discipline from your boyfriend. {Possesive Bf Au}

↬ THIRTS/DRABBLES ↫

coming soon...

© shixcherie 2024 : no copy, translation or modifying allowed

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Milo Quotes

i wanna devour this man so bad. the original version of this is at least triple the length omfg. @mrsmiagreer it’s finally here <3

“From one pretty face to another.”

“Bedroom? Oh. Ohhh. [gremlin giggling]”

“Cute?! You’re gonna come here, into my home, uninvited, and tell me I look cute when I’m mad? First of all sweetheart, you’re damn right I’m cute—“

“Jesus Christ who taught you how to do healing magic, a construction worker with a jackhammer?!”

“Me and Ash give each other shit all the time. He calls me a runt, I call him a bitch bottom, we laugh, we move on.”

“Cuddled up with you, in front of a fire? That’s a one-way ticket to sleepytown, USA, population: this guy.”

“I do not spoil him! Well whaddya want me to do? He’s my lil guy.”

“I swear to god, if I’m lyin I’m dyin, he looks him dead in the eye and says “if concerns about the future of your relationship with Amanda are weighing on you too heavily, I’m sure I can get by with just Milo and Asher here.”

“Are you Lasky?”

“Touch me and your life will be measured in milliseconds. I can see myself out.”

“It’s back. I’m back.”

“And next thing you know, boom, you’re sitting here, a broken man, barefoot with no fucking dress socks.”

“‘So Mr. Greer, what was it that ultimately pushed you over the edge?’ Oh, I don’t know officer, might have something to do with the walking terror I call a mate.”

“So what if I am sappy? I’m running on sleepy middle of the night brain, you get what you get. Shhh. Hush. Don’t you be mean to me. I’m trying to help.”

“He’s a good little dude. Isn’t that right, bub?

“I got to hold my favorite person in the whole world. And only occasionally had to threaten to choke them out.”

“Mmm. You’re cute. Yeah, I called you cute. What are you gonna do about it? Get grumpy? Just makes you look cuter.”

“Do not call them my ‘titties’ you asshole!”

“Personally, I think I’m better at getting clothes off a ya than putting em on, but I’m ever at your service, baby.”

“No no no, don’t do that button. Yeah. Yeah, leave that one undone.”

“There’s my sweetheart.”

“Yeah. Well, it beats for you, sweetheart. A little more sappy shit for the road.”

“There ya go, that looks perfect! Yeah, what you’re wearing right now! You look fucking incredible in it. Yeah, I know you haven’t even started changing into the next look, what’s your point?”

“When I say you’re my mate, I mean it with every inch of me. When I say it, my core lights up like a firework. And when I feel your core answer it, and mirror it back, it feels like the fourth of fucking July in my chest.”

“I mean, obviously we’re gonna look fucking great no matter what, it is us after all”

“Hey, I know Ash is your mate, but would you mind if I use that choke collar you have for him real quick?”

“The power couple”

“And the energizer bunny takes a tumble.”

“And you won’t believe this next part but, uh, as a wolf, I don’t have hands.”

“You don’t have to ask, baby, I trust you. I know you’ll be gentle.”

“You feel like forever in my arms.”

“Oh my god, do they think my house smells weird?”

“I don’t want this for you, baby.”

“These muscles got more knots in em than you had wrapped around you the other night. And that’s saying something.”

“You run through my blood like oxygen, sweetheart.”

“Whose mouth is this?”

“And do not wear that belt, how old is that thing? It looks awful!”

“You’re not alone. I’m here. The pack’s here.”

“You want to see a hissy fit, bootlicker?”

“Cmon, head up. Up for me. There you go. I wanna see this pretty face.”

“Kissing my palm like that… you’re too fucking cute.”

“I just wanna feel you.”

[seventeenpins]

just like heaven

pairing: best friend's mom!Tess x stoner!reader word count: 5k summary: Your best friend's mom catches you smoking in her living room. She teaches you a lesson. content/warnings: dubcon, intoxication, Tess is predatory, age gap, an exceptional amount of weed smoking, virgin!reader, smut smut smut, mommy kink, a lil bit of softness because I’m the one writing it 🤷, Tess gets you high and fucks you a/n: okay this is literally just a porn scenario, with the express purpose of celebrating morally grey predatory lesbians, working on pushing my own boundaries as I write, and an ode to Tess Servopoulos, who I would be honoured to have step on me. Shoutout to @ozarkthedog for the title, for being my whole heart and for allowing me to scream horny Tess thoughts at you every minute of the day, and to @ems-chaos-corner whose feedback and beautiful reactions are deeply appreciated, truly cherished, and an absolute fucking joy! 🥹

It's Friday night and the week's been a shit show. The week kicked off with a work catastrophe, and the second the fires had been put out, up started the roommate drama.  You had just picked up fresh bud, but you'd left your bong at the home of your friend. Or rather, his mom's home, in whose basement he resides.

You and Charlie have known each other most of your lives, but his mother had been a workaholic, rarely at home, and memorable only from birthdays and holidays. Near the end of her marriage, she discovered her husband had been having an affair. To settle the score, she fucked his mistress.

It was the most enduring of the neighborhood gossip, and though you knew Tess, at least a little bit, you found yourself almost mythologizing her.

Since the divorce, Tess became much more present as a mother. She worked a few less hours and invited her son to live in her lavish, post-divorce home, rent free, as he made his way through college.

You didn’t see her often, but you liked her. And, she thought of you as one of Charlie’s “good” friends, as the two of you had never gotten into any legal trouble, and you always felt a little special, knowing she was cool with you. You’d seen her glare down Charlie’s other friends, but you swear, she even winked at you once.

So now, the plan–

Charlie was gonna meet you here, and then you were gonna hang out and smoke together. He assured you his mom wouldn't be home for hours–she’s got a big press conference tonight. 

But you'd just gotten a call from him; one of your coworkers called out, and he's already there, so he's gonna pull a double and get that sweet, sweet overtime pay.

(He did ask if you wanted the shift. You told him absolutely not, but appreciated the consideration.)

He texts you when he's on his break. Sorry I bailed! Will make it up to you! You can chill at mine as long as you like. You can crash too. I know you hate the basement, so go smoke in the living room. Mom won't be home till late, and the fan works great. I do it all the time.

It's a relief, not feeling relegated to his room. It was a fine room, you supposed, but stumbling upon crispy socks twice has been two times too many. And, maybe, you’d have a chance to snoop.

It's eight pm. You've been at Charlie's for an hour, and you're finally starting to feel the stress of the day ebb away. You let your eyes flutter closed as you clear the chamber and hold in the smoke. You start to let it out, but reel back coughing when the lights are suddenly switched on, startling you badly enough you jump a foot into the air.

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" says a cool voice, and you feel your stomach flip with sudden terror, eyes flying open.

Tess stands in the doorway, glowering.

It takes you a minute, a mortifyingly long minute, for the coughing to subside. The more you try to suppress it, the worse it gets, and the whole time, she’s glaring at you.

"I'm not really close to my mom." You tell her. She stares at you blankly.

"Not the fucking point." She says, but now she looks like she's holding back a laugh.

"Sorry," you try to explain, "I didn't know anyone would be home, I thought you had a work thing–"

She rolls her eyes before turning and making a show of opening all of the windows.

"Remember, this is my fuckin house, kid," she snaps at you, "Press conference was cancelled.”

“Oh,” you frown, “That sucks.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tess rolls her eyes. "Yeah. It fucking sucks. The production’s truck got broken into at the last fucking second and we lost half our gear.”

“Well, shit.” You're not quite sure where to go with this, what to say.

You look away for a moment, awkward and uncomfortable, but she makes no move to go anywhere. When you look back, you realize she's still looking at you, eyes sweeping you up and down before landing on your emptied water glass, still damp with condensation, sitting next to a coaster. Quickly, you scramble to correct it.

"We gotta work on your manners," she says and nods, decision made.

“Hey, I’m– I’m sorry. I should go. I shouldn’t be here, didn't mean to be in your way- And I’m sorry, again—"

She ignores you, your rambling falling on deaf ears. She strides across the room and seats herself down on the sofa opposite you. You envy the way she carries herself, the way she seems to swagger pussy-first, sits down with her legs spread, commands the entire space. She's kind of... magnetic. There's something about her that makes your stomach do flips.

"Aren't you gonna offer me a hit?"

"Oh." You weren't expecting this. "I– Yeah, do you want–"

"Why don't you come over here. Sit with me."

"Um, sure-" you say, and you pick up the bong and lighter and start to sit down next to her, nearly trying to budge up next to her outspread legs.

But she stops you before you can touch her and grabs you by the wrist, patting her knee.

"Right here, sweetheart," she smirks.

Your stomach flips. "Oh no, I don't think that-"

"It's alright, honey, I don't bite."

It's less of a request and more of a command. Your heart, which had only been a little settled for a moment, started to race again.

"Oh- okay."

You lower yourself down.

"Face me," she corrects you. You'd been going to sit on her knee with your own knees pressed together. You redirect your limbs and swing a leg over her, so you're straddling her thigh.

"Good girl," she tells you, and as if you don't need a whole moment to reevaluate your entire life, she continues, seemingly oblivious. It's a casual, almost disinterested, "So, what is it we're smoking?"

"Um, it's... it's weed-"

She barks a laugh and it nearly startles you. It doesn't mean anything, the way you feel yourself bounce on her leg, the pressure at the inseam- "Yeah, kid," she snorts, "I figured that bit out myself."

"Of course," you mumble, humiliated, "Sorry, being stupid-"

She cuts you off. "When I was your age- well actually, how old are you? You even old enough to buy this shit?"

"Twenty-one," you admit with a wince, suddenly wishing you had at least a decade on your actual age.

"You're killin' me, kid," she huffs out a long breath and shakes her head.

It only derails her for a moment.

"Well, when I was your age, this shit wasn’t even close to making it onto the ballot, let alone get legalized. We didn't know anything about strains. We'd get a dry little dime bag for ten bucks. It usually turned out to be mostly shake and seeds, but that's all we could get, so we'd pay the creep who lived down the street and tried not to piss him off cause he was the only weed guy we knew."

"Well." You're not quite sure what to say. "That sounds like it sucked. I guess times aren’t so different though. There’s a really creepy budtender at the shop this side of town. But there’s also a cute girl who works there. It’s overpriced and looks like a fuckin’ Apple Store. Whenever she’s working, though, she slips me a couple extra pre-rolls. So it’s kinda worth it."

You see something in her eyes flash and then return to her steady gaze.

"It's been years since I've smoked," she admits. "Well, weed at least. Still smoke the occasional cig.”

"Oh really, why’d you stop?

"Well, I don't think I've smoked regularly since my early twenties. We lost our dealer and it just didn't seem worth it to find another. It was really just word of mouth, where I was living.”

"Your dealer get caught or something?"

"Not exactly. See, he'd tried to slip his hand up a girls' skirt and the girl was decidedly not into it. The asshole ended up with a shattered nose. I've always loved how they described it. Shattered. Served him right."

You nod.

"He decided it maybe wasn't worth it." She pauses. "So. I guess your generation has fancy fuckin dispensaries, and my generation had the weed guy. Your generation has such dumbass names for strains and, and mine crossed our fingers hoping we weren’t just gettin’ stems and seeds."

You're silent for a moment.

Then, stumbling and foolish, you ask her a question.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to be your mother." She smirks and your stomach flips. “Now, let's see what it's like these days, shall we?"

From her jeans pocket she withdraws a flint-wheel lighter. It’s old, but it's nice. The initials TS are engraved on the case.

She opens it and flicks it a couple of times with practiced ease. It doesn't take at first, and she mutters something about dammit–! need to refill it–, but on the third spark it lights.

You start to pass her the bong, but she lights the bowl and pushes it back towards you.

"Fill the chamber for me? It's been a while-"

You do. Smoke swirls through it, thick as soup and glossy. You pass it back to her.

Tess doesn't break eye contact with you as she almost clears it, only a thin whisper left circling the chamber.

It's a lot of smoke, and either she's lying about not having smoked, or she's insane, because that's a lot of smoke.

When she clears the chamber, she only holds it for a moment, places the bong on the floor next to her and, to your surprise, pulls you in.

It's not quite a kiss but she's holding the back of your head so you lean in, open mouthed, as if it were. Instead of kissing you properly, she exhales the smoke into your mouth, floods you with it, and when she's done breathing out, she places a palm over your mouth and blocks any breath from escaping.

"Hold it, honey, that's right-" she praises.

You can feel your eyes start to water, the way you're not quite coughing yet but you're pretty sure the second you try to breathe any of it out, you'll be lost.

With her pinky knuckle, she prods into the bowl of the bong again and moves the bud around, so the most charred bit is discarded and fresh bud is at the top.

"You can let go now," Tess tells you, finally pulling her hand away.

You let out the smoke and, as you predicted, fold over yourself starting to cough. Tess just smiles, and fills the chamber again.

By the third time she has you clear the chamber, not even using her lungs as proxy anymore, you can taste your heartbeat and the room isn't fading, exactly, it's more dotting. The world around you is a pointillism piece that's unfinished in inexplicable spots.

Your skin feels like it's dancing, and there are hands gliding along your hips, up your waist, grazing your breast-

"How’re you feeling, kid?" a voice asks, and you know where you are.

"Mmmm- Good." you sigh, "I feel good. You feel good."

"Oh, do I?" she asks. The hands continue to trace paths all over your body.

"Your hands. Real nice. You feel real nice."

Her eyebrows raise. Her head tilts. She's examining you.

Tess's hands settle on your waist. You barely notice the way she's rocking you gently towards her, and back again. Forwards, and backwards.

You hear a moan, desperate and raw, and you don't realize you're the source of it until you watch the way her eyes darken.

"Have you been with a woman before?" Tess asks.

You grin, sheepish. "Not really-"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "What does ‘not really’ mean?"

“I…” you chew your lip. “I guess I haven’t technically done… much. With anyone.”

Tess’s eyes widen.

You try to backpedal, worried it sounds too silly, too immature, that it's a turn-off for her. That wherever this was going, it's about to make a swift one-eighty. Suddenly sobered, you stammer on. “I mean, I’ve kissed girls before. And, like, played with their tits, you know?”

"Shit," Tess's voice is close to a growl, and for one awful moment you're certain she's about to call the whole thing off and tell you to get off her lap.

You know where you've found yourself. On the lap of someone far too old for you, rocking you against her thigh, letting her hands grope you however she pleases-

Her hands still, and you’re shocked at how immediately you feel bereft.

“And you want me to be your first woman?” She asks, voice velvety and dangerous.

“Yes,” you say, not even thinking about it. “I want you to be my first.”

Tess breathes out slowly, and only then do you realize exactly what you’ve said. The silence is terrifying, and with every microsecond that passes, you’re more sure she’s going to throw you out.

Then she starts bouncing her thigh, the motion creating the most unexpected and desperately needed friction. It’s gentle, but you can feel the way her muscles tense and relax, and every part of it might drive you insane.

You stifle a moan, needing her to say something, but not wanting to jeopardize the position you’ve found yourself in. Maybe if she thinks about it, she’ll stop, and that’s a risk you’re not willing to take.

"I bet I can teach you a thing or two."

Your jaw drops comically.

"Teach me?" you ask.

"Teach you how to make a woman feel good. How to use your fingers, put that pretty mouth to use-"

You feel yourself heat at her praise, and she grins, brushing a thumb against your lower lip.

"I think-" you know your voice sounds pathetic and worn and woozy from the harshness of the hits you took, "I think I maybe.. I think I have a lot to learn."

“But first,” her grin becomes truly wicked and you feel the tension that's been building in you start to twist, get hot and slick and desperate. Her hand trails down to your neck, her thumb resting over your pulse point. “You seem nervous, honey. Let’s help you relax a little more.”

She picks the bong back up. “Pack us a fresh bowl, will you?”

“More?” you ask. You can already feel the redness of your eyes, and know that any more will make you stupid.

“More.” Tess agrees.

“We could just, like, start by making out?” you suggest.

Tess doesn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“You wanna make out?” she taunts, lip curled.

“Fuck, Tess, I’m high–” you whine, “I didn’t mean that to sound so high school.”

“God,” she sighs, shaking her head, “You’re so damn young.”

And after a moment elapses.

“Go on,” she nods to the bong, and you remember what you were meant to be doing.

You stand up, immediately aching, missing the way her strong thigh had rubbed between your legs. It occurs to you that you may have left a wet spot on her pants.

You make quick work of it, emptying out the ash and packing a fresh bowl.

“You wanna kiss me, pretty girl?” she asks.

“Yes-” you sigh, and you all but dive forward, only to receive a gentle hand to your shoulder, holding you back.

“Here’s the deal, sweetheart. Every hit you take, you get a kiss.”

“I– Tess I can’t– I’ll be so high I’ll be stupid–”

“No, baby,” Tess croons, “You’ll be nice and relaxed. You’ll get to feel my hands all over that beautiful body of yours. You’ll be my good girl.”

She grins when you let out an involuntary whine.

“You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you? And when you really need to tap out, I’m sure we can find another way to make sure you get all the kisses you need. Okay?”

You nod, suddenly desperate to please. Of course you can take it. You’ll be so, so good for her. And you’ll get to feel her lips on yours, feel her hands explore you, touch you, take–

The first hit is dizzying, but it mellows out quickly.

Emboldened, you grin at her. “Fair’s fair,” you declare.

Tess rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, too. “C’mon up, honey.”

You put the pipe down and straddle her. You give yourself just a moment to feel her here, hot and soft and lovely between your thighs. You love the way you can feel her abdomen rise and fall with her breath, and smell her hair.

Slowly, carefully, you lean in. Soft, firm lips press against yours, and you feel a heat inside you immediately combust, roar to life. You’re filled with such unadulterated need, you think you might die.

Then, she pulls away, and you reel.

“No-“ you whimper, and she lifts the bong back up to you.

You don’t know how many hits you take, each punctuated with another press of her lips to yours. You’ve never smoked like this, never this much. The world is dizzy and foggy, but her hands are grounding. They rub broad circles into your aching shoulders, tease you with feather-light touches. 

It’s unclear how much time has passed, but after she pulls away from another kiss, she holds you back when you move to pick up the pipe.

“I think you’ve had enough,” she croons. You love her voice, the way she’s soft with you.

You blink lazily at her and lean in for another kiss.

Instead, she pulls back.

“Honey, don’t forget. Like I said, you’ll have another way to earn these kisses.”

“Want you,” you mumble. Being apart from her for even these moments feels torturous. You need her skin against yours.

“For every article of clothing you take off, you’ll get to touch me.”

You focus on her words, making sure you’re getting it right through the fog in your head.

“Can I—” you trail off.

“Can you what?”

“Can I take it all off? And then I can touch you as much as you like?”

“Well, aren't you ambitious?” She smirks, and then considers, tilting her head side to side. “I suppose that would work. But I want you to put on a show for me.”

You scramble up, with much speed and little grace. She huffs a laugh when you nearly topple as you pull your jeans down.

“Slowly, baby. Want to watch you.”

You do your best to slow down, peeling each garment off, one by one, and leaving them in a disorganized heap.

“That’s it,” she praises, “Doing such a good job.”

When you’re nearly bare, you hesitate, fumbling with the band of your panties. This moment, this moment, feels like the point of no return.

“I— I wanna see you.” You say, suddenly more focused, and very nervous.

“Baby, you’re still wearing your panties.”

She says it sweetly, but you know it’s not a request. It’s a command. You slip them down, now totally naked before her. 

You realize; this is the first time you’ve been so fully naked in front of someone who wants to fuck you.

Doubt and anxiety start to cloud your mind as Tess looks you up and down.

You speak without thinking, “Am I pretty?”

It’s such a simple, inane question. But Tess doesn’t hesitate.

“Of course you are, baby. You’re stunning.” She states, and it’s definitive. Who would ever question Tess?

Warmth rushes back through you, your body suddenly hot again with arousal, banishing any lingering fear. You let yourself feel the fog, feel the sensation.

You relax as you stand, enjoying the feeling of ambient air on your body, the breeze from outside sifting through the hair on your arms and legs.

“Come back to me,” Tess prods, and you realize you’ve been standing with your eyes closed. You open your eyes, and you’re shocked when you see that Tess herself is naked before you. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, golden-brown silk adorning her, streaks of gray at her temples. Her body is firm and toned, but she has her fair share of scars and dimples and cellulite. Stretch marks decorate her belly, old but beautiful with the way they gleam pearlescent in the light.

“You want to touch me?” She asks, and you nod. Hand outstretched, you move towards her. She reaches her hand out to meet you, grasps your palm and kisses your fingertips.

It feels like worship.

“Come with me,” she tells you, and you follow, hand in hers. She brings you to her bedroom, one room in this house you’ve never seen. You want to pay attention to all of it, but you cannot focus. You cannot tear yourself away from her.

She guides you, seating you at the head of the bed with legs spread. Then, she settles herself in between them, spreading her own legs. You can feel her ass against your thighs, the heat radiating from her. You want so badly to touch.

“How do you like to touch yourself?” She asks, and you pause.

You know what you like, but you’ve never actually had to describe it before.

“I, um-“ you swallow. “I like to, uh, work myself up. Play with myself all around, um—“

“Your pussy?”

“Yeah, all around my pussy. And then, when I’m ready, I rub my clit. Make little circles above it. Maybe put a finger or two in, if I feel like it, but usually it’s enough with just my clit.”

Tess nods, and you feel the rumble of a sigh through her body. 

“Touch me like that,” she commands.

And you do.

You slip your arms around her, stroking her thighs. Muscles tense beneath your fingers, and you hear her groan.

Gently, slowly, you trace fingertips closer and closer to her apex. You brush along her inner thighs, and feel victorious when she stifles a gasp. Then, you stroke the outer confines of her vulva, feeling how hot she is between her thighs. The hair between her legs feels sensational against your skin, especially in your high, and you get lost in the feeling of it. You’re touching her. You’re touching her. And she likes it.

She lets you continue to stroke at her, all around her, everywhere but the place she wants you most. Then, you realize you feel a trickle of wetness from her, and you dip your fingertips down to catch it. You slide back up, through her folds, catching so much slickness. She’s wet, she’s so fucking wet, and she’s wet for you. 

You rub your fingers together, obsessed with the almost egg-white slick stringing translucent between them. Everything that you wondered about yourself, worried was an anomaly, proven absent in porn–it’s like a revelation. She’s just like you. And she’s totally different. She’s a mirror, and an entity complete and singular.

She’s a fucking goddess.

You pull her hood back and swipe a slick thumb lightly against her clit. Immediately, you’re dizzy at the sensation of her rolling her hips against you, pressing against you, towards your fingers, trying to get more friction. You barely get any physical contact from her the way you need, but the proximity alone is overwhelming. 

You rut up against her, knowing there’s nothing for you to get yourself off on here without changing position entirely. But the closeness is incredible. You feel your own wetness smear on her back and her ass, the way you’re dripping. And Tess, her back pressed against your breasts, occasionally dipping to nibble kisses along your throat and jaw.

Lost between sensation, and curiosity, you reach through the fog. You want to do a good job. You want to make her feel good. It’s interesting, you think, all the ways she feels different to you. Her labia are a little longer, spreading over your fingers as you stroke along her slit again and again. She’s making the loveliest sounds, whines and moans and whimpers, sounds you never thought you’d hear from her.

When you press your fingers against her clit again, she almost yelps, but the yelp morphs into a deep moan as she starts rocking against the pressure, chasing the sensation. It feels so similar, but totally foreign at the same time. You dip a couple of fingers into her opening. You stroke her how you stroke yourself. And then you move to press in deeper, and the angle’s all wrong. You suddenly feel embarrassed. Of course vaginas aren’t all the same! You try again, relaxing your fingers, slowly massaging into her. She gently rests her hand on yours. You think she might pull it back. Instead, she guides it, angling your fingers just right so they’re slipping into her tight heat and lets out a heaving sigh.

If she’d been trying to stay quiet, to hide from you the effect you’re having on her, that all goes out the window when you start pumping into her.

Now that you have the angle right, you drive your fingers in again and again, scissoring her open, pressing all the soft and lovely bits inside her till she’s howling.

“Fuck,” she hisses, “Oh baby that’s it, keep fucking me with those lovely fingers, you’re doing such a good job–”

You slip in a third finger and her words turn to a breathy jumble of yes, please, more—

She feels so delicious against your fingertips, massaging into her again and again. You love the texture of her. 

Flicking a thumb over her clit as you pump in and out in measured strokes, her whole body begins to convulse.

“Fuck!” She shouts, “Fuck, I’m—”

She comes with a cry, shaking in your lap, and you continue to stroke her through it.

When her body stops trembling and her breathing slows, she tilts her head back, resting on your shoulder, gracing you with a throaty laugh.

“Shit, kid,” she she looks dazed, totally fucked out. You should really get a trophy for this. Or a medal. Made Tess Servoupolous Nut So Hard She Saw God, it would say.

As she finishes catching her breath, she reaches her arm around you and strokes your hair. “You did good,” she tells you, “A real natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Fuck if I haven’t been needing that.”

She peels herself from you, the sweat between you adhering your tits to her back, and it’s almost funny the squelch that your bodies make. 

And then, she’s on top of you, moving you again, body soft and malleable. She’s spreading your thighs, your soaked cunt grinding against her own– puffy, slick and spent. 

She smiles at you. “Last chance, sweetheart. You want me to make you feel good? Play with that pretty pussy? Pop that cherry, once and for all?”

The haze returns, and it can’t be just the high, not coming over you like this. No. It’s her. It’s her scent, her power, her skin against yours, and you need need need–

“Give it to me–,” you beg, and she does.

Long fingers part you, slide inside, scissor and twist. It’s slow at first, almost gentle. But you don’t need gentle right now. You need her, every part of her.

You grind against her fingers, the heel of her palm putting pressure right against your clit. 

“You’re being such a good girl,” she coos, “Opening up nice and wide for mommy, that’s it–”

It’s unexpected, and if you’re being honest, it’s a little bit weird.

But that doesn’t fucking matter because fuck it’s hot–

Your legs spread further, in part from Tess’s coaxing, and in part because they seem to want to fling themselves open all on their own. 

Two fingers increase to three, and then to four, and she’s pumping in for all she’s worth with her hand, her thumb pressed against your clit, pressing your button like she’s made for it. You’re trying to find words but you can’t–all you can do is moan and whine and rut against her, with nothing more than “Tess, please– Mommy mommy oh my god mommy your fingers feel so fucking good—”

And she grins at you wickedly, and keeps at her ministrations as she praises you– “Taking my fingers so fucking well. That’s a good girl, that’s it, oh honey– I can feel how you’re dripping down my wrist, how good you’re clenching round me. It’s okay, baby, you can let go. Let go for me, sweetheart, c’mon, let go–”

You come with a shout, pussy drenching her as she fucks you through it.

As you catch your breath and come down, she strokes your thighs, trails pruney fingertips across your stomach.

“You’ve been so good for mommy,” she smiles, eyes crinkling, “Big girl, taking all of that her first time, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you agree, totally worn out. “Thank– thank you, Tess–” you sigh.

“Hmm,” she snorts, “I thought you’d do well with a lesson.”

“I did good?” you ask.

“You did great, honey,” she laughs. “And what did we learn?”

You take stock of yourself. Of your body, your mind, the fog and the lingering high, and the absolute euphoria of the past however long you’ve been fucking and being fucked.

A smile creeps across your face. You try to tamp it down, but it’s pointless. “I’ve learned that I should always smoke weed in Charlie’s mom’s house, and maybe, if I’m very lucky, I’ll even get caught!”

Tess laughs, a full-bellied, beautiful thing. 

“I think, princess, you’ve got a lot more to learn.”

[gilverrwrites]

I don't fall, I fly.

⇐⇐⇐ Chapter [2/?] ⇒⇒⇒

Circus playboy [AU], Dick Grayson/Reader, 6.7K words AN: SMUT, WHOLE LOTTA SMUT! This took longer than I'd hoped, but I hope ya'll enjoy it regardless ♥︎ Anon Joey, I promise I forgot I named a character Joey in this story I swear this was not meant to be any kind of representation of you lmao Warnings: Swearing | teasing | pre-mature ejaculation | lying and manipulation | denial 

Joey is a sturdy-looking guy with a skinhead and a stubbly beard. When you tell him you’re there ‘for Dick’ he licks his lips and flits his eyes between you and your bestie with a suggestive wiggle to his brows.

“You?” He grunts, pointing from behind the plexiglass. “Or them?”

“Um, me?” You’re not sure exactly what he’s asking but you presume you are the right answer.

He tears your tickets off the reel, but when you reach into the opening to take them from him, he grasps your hand in his meaty one and scrawls ‘DG’ on the back of it in black sharpie before letting you go with the orange slips.

“Shows at 6.30. You wanna head straight up that way, turn right at the main entrance, Marty will let you through the second entry. There's plenty of food carts on the way if you’re hungry but you gotta pay for 'em.” He gestures each direction with two fingers before sending you off with a wink. “Have a good night, peeps.”

“D-G? Are you like, officially a groupie now?” Your friend questions you jokingly over mouthfuls of shared candyfloss moments later. Since inviting them along you’d filled them in on the events of Tuesday afternoon.

“I guess.” You shrug, looking at the lights, breathing in the smell of popcorn, listening to the thrum of the crowd. You hadn’t been to a circus in years, so this is like a nostalgia trip. You’re enjoying yourself to much to really care about being branded with a marker. It was weird, no doubt, but a small price to pay for what would hopefully be a good show. “Hope it’s worth it.”

You’re too lost in conversation to realise it straight away but the further you walk, the smaller the crowd grows until eventually the only people around seem to be cast and crew.

“Maybe we missed it?” Your friend suggests when you finally notice.

You’re about to turn tail when you hear a familiar voice call out over the distant buzz of spectators. “Hey, it’s you!”

“Oh, hi!” Warmth immediately graces your cheeks as you watch Dick approach with long strides and open arms. 

“You made it, awesome.” He grins, his hands are already on you, fingers snaking down your back to settle snuggly on your hip. He looks starkly different, but just as captivating as when you’d first met. His tight blue leotard is partly covered by an open hoodie that still shows off his shapely pecks. His hair is slicked back, and he literally sparkles under the string lights that line the big top. You’re so focused on the glitter that adorns his skin that you almost forget where you are until he prompts; “Whose your friend?”

“Oh-“ You follow his gaze, eyes strolling over his broad shoulders, along his other arm which is conveniently hanging over your bestie's shoulder. You’re almost envious as they take over introducing themselves. 

Your time with Dick before the show is understandably short, but sweet. You hadn’t taken a wrong turn, as made apparent when he walks the two of you to the performer's entrance, bypassing Marty and telling you how to find your seats.

“When the lights go up, and Haly leaves the ring, come back this way and I’ll show you around backstage.” Dick tells you with a wink, dipping out before you can even consider declining his offer.

“He’s gonna show you his mini me.” Your friend laughs, wiggling their finger as you climb the steps to your seats. “Lil Dick, ya know.”

“Shut up.” You reply with a grin you can’t shake. Unable to deny that they’re probably right, and if he does, you’re most certainly not going to stop him.

“Whatever.” They continue. “Thanks for the ticket, but I’m not hanging around while you get dicked down, you good getting home alone?”

The lights come down as they ask their question, and your eyes excitedly lock onto the ring as you whisper back. “Sure, but don’t you wanna see the backstage stuff?”

“No, I don’t want to third wheel the pretence of your hookup.” They answer deadpan and though you’re a little disappointed for them, you’re mostly relieved that should anything happen between you a Dick, you won’t have to worry about ditching your bestie.

Had you actually paid to watch the show, you’d say it was worth every penny. The Ringmaster, Haly really knows how to build a show, the clowns aren’t too scary, and the whole thing is jam-packed with ‘spectacular acts’ as promised by the flyers. The firebreather in particular was memorising. The true showstopper, however, was The Flying Grayson. He sails and twists through the air, shining under the spotlights as he performs death-defying after death-defying stunt. It’s easy to see why he’s the headliner. Towards the end of his performance, Dick waves at the crowd, showboating and encouraging them to cheer louder, and finally blowing a kiss before swinging out on the trapeze.

Your friend fake swoons when they notice how you’ve leaned forward in awe to watch, and the teasing persists right up until you’re saying your goodbyes after the show.

You feel like such a rebel as you slink through the crowd, sneaking away to the performer's entrance once more, looking over your shoulders periodically until your eyes finally lock onto Dick. He doesn’t spot you straight away, eyes pensively focused on something off in the distance while he kicks his feet, and brushes the gel from his hair with his fingers, but eventually, he turns to see you and it’s like flicking on a light switch, the way his face shifts into that sunny smile. His arm easily drapes over your shoulder once more as you approach, and you just as easily melt into his side, allowing him to drag you off to God knows where.

Dick likes this bit, even the cager girls unknowingly become a little more malleable, a little star-struck after watching his routine, and you’re no exception. It’s too easy to fall under his spell, and you’re all too aware of it. No matter what wonders he shows you, or who he introduces to you, your eyes rarely leave his form, and he basks in the attention.

“This is cute.” He mentions, pulling at your skirt and stepping close enough that you can smell his sweat beneath his rich, sweet cologne.

“Thanks.” You feel flushed immediately under his roaming gaze. He’s clearly using it as a guise to get closer to you, but you have some spunk in you yet. “I like this.”

You snap the taut strap of his leotard, he fakes a yelp and a pout.

“Ouch.” His nose brushes yours, stray hairs tickling your forehead as he leans down. “You might need to kiss that better.”

You run your finger under the strap once more, pulling it aside and baring his toned muscles. You playfully hum in consideration before pulling the sleeve back into place and looking him in the eye. “Maybe later. If its bruised.”

“Later?” He quirks a brow as you step back, content to make him work a little more for it.

“Later.” You confirm. “After the tour.”

He stares you down with his deep blue eyes, and you think you might break until he finally sighs, yielding to your demands with a complacent grin.

It’s not until he’s holding your hand as he guides you through a myriad of caravans that you finally think to ask; “By the way, what is this?”

You wriggle your hand out of his to show him the Sharpie mark you’re hoping you can scrub out in the shower before your shift tomorrow morning.

“Oh, that.” He takes your hand once more, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it, looking very nonchalant. “If I wasn’t there, it’s just to show Marty that you’re on my guest list.”

You’re not convinced. “Can’t you just have Joey write it on the tickets of something?”

“Nah.” He shrugs, but there’s a hint of mirth in his tone that has you doubting him. “Were not supposed to save seats or let people in though the performer's entrance. When you leave, you take the evidence with you.”

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

What he neglected to mention is that, of course, the entertainers’ are allowed guests and reserved seating, it’s only Dick who's on a tight lead because he does it too often.

Before you can voice your doubts, however, Dick stops in his tracks, tapping his free hand on the trailer beside him and turning his whole body to you with a coy look. “Last stop, home sweet home.”

Home sweet home is strangely whimsical for an average sized mobile home. It has lights around the roof and painting, old and new decaled onto the metal exterior. One piece in particular grabs your attention. 

“The Flying Graysons? Theres more of you?” You ask earnestly and Dick steps beside you to follow your eyeline, dropping your hand in favour of stretching his arm across your shoulder and leading you to lean into his chest.

“There was.” He answers quietly, eyes remaining focused on the image even when you angle your head to watch him. “My parents. Kind of a family business, you know?”

“They must be proud of you. You’re amazing.”

He smiles as he looks down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I hope so.” He sounds glum. Clearly, you’re not privy to something and it isn’t your place to pry so you decide not to push the subject when he moves it along. “Do you want to come inside?” 

“Yes!” You’d known the invitation was coming, but you don’t think to mask your enthusiasm at all, happily following him inside, taking your shoes and socks off at the door as requested, and allowing him to hang up your jacket. “I can’t stay though, I have a shift early in the morning.”

“That’s fine.” Dick hates when they stay over anyway. “We rehearse pretty early too.”

Inside, you notice an array of protein powers along his kitchen counter, and a stack of old records piled up beside an even older-looking couch. That’s the entire extent of any interior features you have time to examine before his lips are on yours.

You gasp when you first feel his soft lips on yours. You’d expected forwardness, but damn he moves fast; almost enrapturing you with his minty-sweet lips and feather-light touches until you feel your back hit what is presumably the door to his bedroom.

“Ahhh.” You can’t help stuttering as you pull away, captivated briefly by the sensually blissed-out look on his face as he chases your lips, settling for sucking and nipping at your throat when you turn your face away from him. “Fast!”

He stops at your objection, his whole body freezing but for his fingertips which have already crept beneath the waist of your skirt to teasingly massage your lower back. “Do you want stop?” He sounds confused.

“No.” You answer decisively, shivering when you feel his breath deliberately brushing against the sweet spot in the crook of your neck, fanning the fire that’s currently simmering between your thighs. You were into it, his speed had just caught you off guard and you need a moment to collect yourself. “Just, slow down a bit. Show me around first?”

“You know this is a one-night thing, right?” He scolds himself internally for snapping, it’s not an unreasonable request. There's just something about the sweet smell of your perfume, the taste of your lips, and that damn skirt. He’s been dying to get you here all night, and you’re so close. But now you’re pouting and narrowing your eyes and while he’d love to fuck the admittedly adorable petulance out of you, he knows his chances are rapidly depleting.

“Sorry, sorry.” He lets go of you, throwing his hands up in surrender and turning on his best, most charmingly sheepish smile. “I just haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met the other day. I’m getting too excited.”

His shoulders sag. Scratching the back of his head as he steps further into his living space. He knows he’s winning you over because your expression softens.

“That’s the kitchen, and this is the living room.” He gestures to the two sides of the open space.

“That room back there was my bedroom when I was a kid, but now it’s just storage. Old suits, photos, stuff I don’t want to get rid of.” He points to the door at the other end of the trailer before turning back to the door you’re currently still resting against. “Bed and bath are through there.”

You chew your lips as you turn to look at it, fingers tracing the hard plastic until you find the handle and gently open it. Dick leads the way, stepping around you and into the small space. He fiddles with the switches on the wall until the room lights up and it is very much what you’d imagined. Mostly it’s an extension of the outside, the light source is yet another sting of lights despite the bulb that hangs from the ceiling. Posters, photos, and souvenirs from all over the world line the walls.

“I’m sorry there isn’t more to see.” He offers as you follow him in, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his waist and melting into him as you approach. There isn’t much space for the both of you to stand, almost all of it is taken up by the dresser and the bed which is lined with blue sheets, and literal notches in the wooden headboard.

“I think there’s plenty to see.” You comment, nodding at his abused bedframe and he laughs but doesn’t deny the implication.

“It’s getting late.” He points out, and you know what he’s really getting at. There’s no more to show you, it’s now or never.

Feeling bold you slide two fingers under his sleeve once more, slowly brushing it from his shoulder to expose his unblemished skin. He watches every move half-lidded and unshakingly as you press your lips to the spot you’d snapped earlier until his fingers splay across the back of your head, tilting you to face him once you’re done kissing his non-existent wound so he can draw you back to his mouth.

As if he’d taken your prior hesitations to heart, he kisses you slowly this time. Cupping you with warm hands as he tenderly works his plump lips against your own in a series of deep, ardent kisses that you hadn’t expected from him. It’s you who takes things further, quickly getting lost in his embrace. You part your lips, only half fighting for dominance before you concede and allow his tongue to explore unimpeached until he starts to paw at your hips, pulling you close to him so he can grind his compressed arousal against you.

Teasingly slow, you dust your fingers across his chest, dragging your fingertips downward along his spandex suit until he firmly takes your wrist in his hand. You pull back from the kiss to take in his heated expression. You have no idea what you’re doing to him with your blown-out eyes and open mouth. Impatiently, he directs you half a step back, until your knees give against his mattress, and you drop down. Exactly where he wants you, he releases your hand, and you continue your slow veneration of his body until you settle your hand on his bulge. Your touch sends a shockwave through his body that has him bucking his hips in an instant.

He definitely made a good choice picking you, he thinks as he takes a moment to admire your form. You’re so fucking pretty, looking up at him from the edge of his bed, biting your spit-glossed lips while he grinds against your eager hand. He’s pressing hard enough that you have to make an effort to keep your hand in place, partly from desperation, partly because the pressure is needed to be felt through his dance belt.

Not content with the current state of things, Dick is quick to start undressing. His clothes are barely around his ankles before you wrap your hand around his shaft. You’re not sure what you’d been expecting but you’re pleasantly surprised by his uncut cock and intentional hairlessness. There's already a drop of precum on his tip and your mouth practically waters as you lean forward to taste him only to feel long fingers curling into your hair.

“No no no, not yet.” Dick pleads beneath his breath, holding you still by your roots and watching you with fire in his eyes. He bites the corner of his lip, tilting his head as he thrusts languidly into your open hand. “Use your hands for a bit longer.”

This is his favourite part. The fucking is always good, and he’s hungry to find the position that will make you call his name over and over again, begging for an encore, but there’s something so erotic about this bit that drives him crazy. Doesn’t matter how many girls he brings back here, he’ll never get enough of seeing them work his cock in their marked hands. Right now, you’re already claimed by his initials, by the trail of swollen little bitemarks he’s traced down your neck, but by the time he’s done with you, you’ll be completely ruined. Inside and out, totally smothered by him.

You’re not exactly sure what’s going on in his head but damn he’s hot you think as you watch him from below. He hadn’t kept the body glitter to his just his arms. Under the warm light of his bedroom, his whole body shimmers, extenuating his toned, lean muscles. Stray pieces of dark hair fall to frame his fevered expression. His deep blue eyes are squinted intensely and he’s biting down on his tongue as he watches you work your hand along his length.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” You can’t help but speak your mind, and he looks down at you puzzled for a moment, clearly not expecting your compliment, but eventually smiling genuinely at you in response, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

No matter how much praise Dick hears, he’ll never get enough. God, and you mean it too, he can tell by your wide eyes, by that little smile you can't bite back, by how you’re watching him religiously. Fuck. He’s gonna need 5 more of you.

Another, sizable bead of precum spills from his head, it drips from his length, trickling down your arm and before either of you can process it, you dip down, not once breaking eye contact as you soak up every drop, slowly lick it up from your hand, working your way up his cock.

Neither of you see it coming, but your little show of debauched worship has Dick's whole body twitching. He tries so hard to hold it back, but as soon as your lips part over his crown to drink up any remnants of pre, he instantly starts shooting the real thing into your open mouth. Cursing through his climax, suddenly grabbing your head and holding you in place as ropes of hot, sticky cum hit your tongue.

“Shit, shit shitshitshit.” He mutters, averting his gaze when your brows raise at him in surprise. “Shit, never happened before. I’m sorry.”

His knees buckle at the intensity of his climax, causing him to lurch forward. The last of his cum dribbling directly into the back of your throat before he stops altogether. Drops of the fluid spill back out of your mouth when he wrenches back from you, the speed at which causing your body to sting with rejection as he hurries from the room, locking himself in what must be the bathroom.

“Diik- wouate.” You try to call after him, mouth still dripping with his cum. Before following you rapidly search the room for a box of tissues or a waste bin to spit into, when you find nothing, you bite the bullet and swallow, cringing at the taste and the metallicness it leaves on your tastebuds before you head over and knock on the door, once, then once again but he doesn’t answer. You can hear him moving around, hear his hushed voice presumably talking to himself. “Dick, are you okay?”

When he still doesn’t reply you continue, choosing your words carefully. “It- it’s okay. It’s normal. Could happen to anyone really.”

It’s not okay. It could happen to anyone, but not him, he’s not anyone.

“It kinda makes me feel good about myself actually.” You’re not sure if this is going to help or make things worse. “You know? Hand job so good I made you pop before… yeah.”

Your awkward laugh falls on deaf ears. Good for you, he thinks bitterly. Thankful when he hears your footsteps retract, he listens intently as you slowly make your way through his trailer. Relieved when you stop in his cramped kitchen space. He’s not ready to face you just yet, but he’s certainly not done with you either.

He’s not sure how long he spends in front of the mirror, trying to ease his embarrassment, to pep talk his cock into getting hard again, but seemingly it’s long enough that you get tired of waiting. God, this is a disaster. He has to turn this around he decides as you knock once more and announce that you’re leaving. Now, or live knowing that you’re the one who got away. If he can’t fuck you tonight, then he has to ensure you’ll come back before the show moves to its next location so he can prove himself.

“Don’t go yet.” He says as he finally opens the door, displeased to see your sock and jacket have made a return. If anybody asked, the shrillness of his voice was intentional, part of his plea to make you stay a bit longer. “We can still do other things.”

You’re sceptical, it’s evident from the frown on your face and the way your eyes flick between him and the door. Dick does not like that at all.

“Come on, girly.” He urges, turning the charm back up as he leans in closer, gathering the fabric of your top in his fist and using it to tug you the last few inches until you’re chest to chest. Already your skin is starting to tingle again, excitement curling in your guts as he brushes his cheek against yours, pressing fresh kisses to your skin as he works his way to your lips.

Deep blue eyes bore into yours, begging you for permission and you easily crack under his gaze, stretching up on your toes to initiate a kiss so heated it’s like you’d never stopped. How he turns it on and off so easily should be studied, you swear. He doesn’t tease this time, only pulling away from your lips long enough to pull your top and coat off. He unclips your bra with a speed you only possess on your best days before lifting you by your ass and hauling you the 4 feet to his bed.

Once your back hits the mattress he leans back to look at you, his hands clutching onto your thighs, causing your skirt to ride up and giving him a spectacular view of your damp panties. Instinctively your hand darts down to cover up, but he latches onto your wrist, guiding it to his mouth where he plants chaste kisses to your knuckles as he looks you up and down, over and over.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He repeats your earlier reverence, taking a few more seconds to admire your body before letting you go and dipping down to trail more kisses up your stomach, his calloused fingers cupping your breasts, squeezing as he draws closer. “We should make you the main event.”

“What a fucking line.” You quip, but the look of adoration on his face never wavers and you start to grow bashful under it. Averting your gaze until you feel his tongue on your chest.

“I mean it.” His speech is slurred as he draws circles on your bosom with his spit, you’re on edge as he grows closer and closer to your nipple but never hits the target. If that wasn’t enough to make you lightheaded, Dick pushes the weight of his thigh between your legs, eyes still trained on every little movement you make as his knee shimmies against your heat. “You’re gonna be the prettiest notch on my bedpost.”  

He's so smooth, even the glib reminder that this is just casual sex makes you feel flushed. 

“W… ” Your response to him is hampered when he finally fixes his mouth over one of your nipples, his hard fingers pinching down on the other until you arch your back, pressing yourself deeper into him.  The inadvertent pressure on your clothed cunt making you moan aloud.

“You gonna say something, pretty girl?” He gently holds your nip between his teeth as he talks, blowing his hot breath against the sensitive bud.

“Fu- fuck you’re good at this.” You breathe, eyes rolling back as he starts to bounce his legs, eyes narrowing smugly at your praise. “W-was gonna ask where you got that sharp tongue fr-from?”

Dick smiles around your bud once more before drawing it in for once last, torturing suck and releasing it when a wet pop.

“Oh, you like it, do you?” He drags the tongue in question between the crevice of your breasts before working it leisurely up your throat and into your open mouth where you weakly knead it with your own, too focused on the way Dick has worked his knee up onto your clothed groin, pulling your panties taut between your folds in the process. It hurts, but in a way that has you desperate for more. You almost don’t notice when he retracts his mouth to murmur in your ear. “You’re already shuddering and we’re not even at the best part yet.”

“Will we get there soon?” You roll your hips, meeting the tweaking of his leg and he grins at your enthusiasm. You’d thought your skin ablaze until Dick rakes his nails down your torso, igniting more fervour in his wake until he finds the waistband of your skirt and panties.

“Oh yes.” As he speaks, he sits back on his knees, taking your clothes with him. He can’t help the way his jaw relaxes at the sight of your exposed pussy, wishing he was hard enough to plunge right into your dripping hole. But watching you, as beautifully depraved as you are, come apart even more from his hands and mouth is a more than satisfactory consolidation prize. And if he sticks the landing, he’s sure he can win you back here for a second performance. “Just stay still and lovely like you are, an’ let me make you feel real good.”

He runs his pointer finger between your folds, brushing your clit gently before delving straight for your entrance. He slips right in, down to the knuckle with no friction at all and your cover your face, mortified by the wet squelching noise your pussy makes as he twists and turns his finger inside you, tightening the coil in your centre. When he withdraws you peek through your hands, watching the wicked grin on his face as he examines the string of wetness that follows, snapping a few inches above your sex. 

“You’re so messy, baby.” He purrs, dipping back in to spread your wetness around, rubbing two fingers against your clit until you start to moan aloud. “I love it.”

Gradually he teases the two fingers into your entrance, the added digit causing more stretch than the last time. You can’t help clenching and whining, especially when he uses his other hand to caress your clit once more. “Oh fuck, Dick. I think I’m gonna…”

“Already? That was easy. I haven’t even tasted you yet.” Despite his teasing, your quiet neediness is making him fucking feral on the inside. Hurrying your orgasm along, he drives a third finger into you, biting his lip, grunting and goading as he watches you come undone. “Go on then. Cum on my fingers baby, make an even bigger mess.”

As if on command you do exactly that. Dick can barely decide where to look; your preciously scrunched-up face, your chest which is jutted out and shaking due to your arched back and heavy breathing, or your greedy little pussy as its walls clasp around his digits, sucking him in as you spill onto his palm.

As soon as he’s certain he’s ridden you through your climax, he pulls his fingers from you and your whole body jolts at the resistance. He checks that you’re watching him through your foggy, post-nut daze as he proceeds to lick and suck his hand clean.

You moan at the way his loud, pornographic enjoyment of your juices revives your libido. It’s really not fair that you should be ready to go again so soon, while he’s unable. You can only imagine how good it would feel to have his cock buried inside you right now, but you don’t want to press the sore subject. Instead, you move your trembling body, enjoying the perplexed but amused look on Dicks face as you climb closer to him.

“Want to kiss you.” You inform him, startled by your own breathlessness.

“You’re cute.” Dick patronises, finishing licking up his middle finger before reaching out and clasping his moist hand around your neck. “Come kiss me then.”

He squeezes just tight enough to send a chill down your spine as he pulls you closer, locking you into a short but heated kiss, eagerly sharing the taste of your bittersweet ejaculation. When you pull back to breathe, he pushes on your chest and you fall back against his sheets once more, your eyes zeroing in on the vintage stickers that lace his ceiling as you try to calm your sudden headrush.

At the same time, Dick drops off the bed, kneeling on the floor. Just when you’re coming to, he grips your hips, pulling you to the mattress's edge until you’re close enough to feel his breath in your sensitive core. 

“Not done with you yet.” He laughs, the extra air on your folds making your toes curl. “Still gotta give this sharp tongue a firsthand taste.”

Before you can protest, not that you really would if you could, Dick practically dives, mouth first into your folds. The moment his hot tongue grazes your already tender clit you jerk, bucking your lower body away from the salacious intrusion but Dick swiftly follows, not letting up for a second as his arms loop over your stomach, fingers digging into your hips and forcing you back down. 

“Don’t fight it, you’re gonna feel so good.” He murmurs, tongue still working between your twitching folds, mouth twisted into a wickedly obscene version of a smile before he latches his lips around your bud. Moaning loudly and closing his eyes as he savours the taste of your slit. He’d called you messy, but within a few minutes of working you with his tongue, his chin and neck are drenched with saliva. He can’t help it, you taste so deliciously bittersweet, he can’t get enough, and the cherries on top are the beautiful, sinful little sounds you can’t choke back.  

Overwhelmed and shaking, you reach down and hook your fingers in his thick dark hair, pulling it tight in an attempt to ground yourself but it does nothing to dampen the waves of pleasure that pulsate through your body. Very quickly the pull of your hips increases tenfold, your face squeezing tight, and Dick knows you’re about to cum again.

The only thing sweeter than your needy little pussy is the tortured wail you release as he shimmies down your folds, leaving your clit unstimulated in favour of stuffing his tongue into your tight hole just before you topple over the edge. At the intrusion, your walls convulse around him, forcefully throbbing around him despite the betrayed, wet-eyed look you’re giving him. Oh, you are so coming back, and he is going enjoy fucking that sullen look off your face while you milk his cock for all its worth.

“What’s that look for?” Dick asks, taking his tongue out of your folds and nuzzling into your inner thigh, intent to prologue his teasing just a little longer. You gasp when you see the collection of slick on his face, shocked and aroused by the muddle of fluids. Between that and your hopeless need for him to finish what he’d started, you can barely comprehend him speaking to you. “Do you want something, baby?”

“Please…” You start, barely able to string your words together. Feeling more and more frustrated as Dick shakes his head at you, grazing your folds with his cheek as he does so.

“Please what? Come on, you can do better than that.” His encouragement only vexes you more. 

“Please let me cum, Dick! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” The look that overwhelms his handsome features should put fear into your heart, but all it really does is make you ache for his touch even more. “Will you come back here on Saturday night and let me use this pretty pussy all night long?”

“Yes!” You don’t even hesitate, anything to feel his mouth on you again. Your lack of inhibitions works though. Dick immediately compensates you by twisting his tongue into your slit again, lapping and sucking at your sweet spot, fervid and hungry. Intense blue eyes locked closely on your every move as he swiftly falls into a rhythm that has you right on the edge in no time, the denial only having heightened your sensitivity. 

His grip on you remains steadfast, supporting your wild movements as your legs buckle and wrap tight around his neck, squeezing him as you wither and reel against him. He swallows every drop of your release, gulping it down, his groans of appreciation loud and explicit enough to rival your own. Goddamn. You can’t recall a time anybody ate you out with as much shameless passion and he keeps going until your body falls heavy and slack.

“How’s that for taming your pussy?” He remarks, ego pouring from every syllable but you’re too out of it to care. Body completely jellified, head empty, unable to think of a witty comeback. You lay still but for the rapid rise and fall of your chest as Dick crawl up your body, goading you once more. “Too effective?”

Again, you’re too preoccupied to care as he leans in to brush his lips along your nose. You’re vaguely aware of his arm moving beside the bed, but you’ve no thought or motivation to care as you soak in his attention, chasing him until your lips find his, joining into an equally smiley kiss that is laced in your juices.

“Here,” he says as he ends the kiss, pulling a handtowel from somewhere? And dropping it on your chest. Presumably, that’s what he’d been fiddling for. “You remember how to clean yourself, right?”

“Oh, shut up, Dick-head.” At last, you find your voice, Dick having egged you a bit too much. Playful you throw the towel back at him as he makes to stand, but he easily catches it and drops it between your legs.

“Okay, okay.” To emphasise his surrender, Dick holds his palms into the air as he backs away, you’re not expecting him to leave the room entirely however until he’s gone.

Unsure how to respond, you sit up and grab the towel, cleaning off. He isn’t gone for long though, returning a moment later with a glass of water, grabbing your discarded clothes from the floor and tossing them toward you as he approached.

“It’s getting cold out, probably.” He comments, placing the cup down beside you and beginning to rummage around in his drawers. He finds and pulls on a pair of joggers as you too begin to redress. “You wanna borrow a thicker jacket? Swap them back on Saturday?”

“Oh, about that.” His head snaps to you, brows creased. Bar the concentration on his face as he’d sailed through the air during his performance earlier, this is the closest you’ve seen him to looking serious and even though he’d clearly been trying to get rid of you only seconds ago, you feel bad for what you’re about say. “I can’t come on Saturday.”

His annoyance is evident, face falling even more as he stares at you. 

“I can do tomorrow though?” You offer, but that’s no good to him. Fridays are the big night, Haly likes him to schmooze the VIPs, and he can manage that while he’s thinking about bouncing you on his cock, but it if you’re actually there the temptation to sneak off and make good on his fantasies would be too great. “Saturday night I have a thing.”

“A ‘thing’? Like a date?” Oft. Dick can hear how he sounds, totally pissed, maybe even a little jealous. He’s not. He can sympathise with the fact that you got caught up in the height of the moment, only God knows how many promises he’d made in the throes of lovemaking that he’d never intended on keeping but he was so sure he’d hooked you around his finger. He needed you to be. Need you to come back so he can finish the job.

“No, nothing like that. It’s a family thing.” Your attempt to consol might have seemed more genuine were your skirt not hiked up around your stomach. You’d redressed completely but for your underwear which you were now fruitlessly searching for.

“What time does it start?” Dick sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out across the small space to grab your hand and pull you closer.

“5.30” You answer, allowing him to pull you to him. You straddle his lap, instinctively draping your arms over his shoulders. When you’re face to face, he cracks a smile, you’re starting to recognise this specific grin, with its sparkly teeth and crinkled eye. It’s the smile he’d given you when you’d first crossed paths, and later when he’d invited you to his show. This is the smile he gives you when he wants something.

“Come to the matinee then.” He instructs, angling his knees up until you fall further into him, allowing him access to ghost soft little kisses to your already well-marked jawline, breath tickling your skin when he speaks. “Show finishes at 3.30.”

“And what time will you be finished with me?” Your voice notches up a pitch as you try to speak through your retrained giggling. Dick hums into the crook of your neck, making a show out of thinking up an answer. You’re not expecting it when he suddenly grips your rear, and it makes you yelp. He uses the globe of your ass to support your weight as he stands, carrying you through his trailer until you’re at his door.

It's decided then, it would seem. You’re leaving now and coming back on Saturday.

When he despots you onto the floor, you bend over to slip back into your shoes, swaying your butt around as Dick pulls down your skirt and presses up behind you, impishly grinding on you even as you stand up straight once more.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You remind him when he nestling his nose into the crook of your neck, sniffing your sweet, sweaty smell before you stop moving and prompt him once more. “Dick?” 

“Hm?” He hums dreamily before letting out a dramatic sigh and spinning you around to face him as he finally answers. “If you’re late to your ‘thing’ because you can’t resist my charms that’s on you, pussycat.” 

“Ick!” You protest to the awful nickname, both of you laughing as Dick opens his door and slowly but surely leads you out of it.

Dick rattles off a list of directions, advising you on how to get back to the main gate. He offers to walk with you, but you decline.

“Goodnight, kitten.” He jests in farewell.

“Goodnight, dick.” You reply.

He was right, it is cold. A gust of wind blows against you, reaching between your legs to your still damp centre and reminding you that you’d never found your panties, but Dick has already closed and locked the door behind you. Returning to his bedroom, he retrieves your missing underwear from where he’d kicked them under the bed and props it over the corner of his headboard for later.

If you're reading this, I wan't you to know that you are beautiful and I love you!

[roosterbruiser]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?” 

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips. 

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers. 

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?” 

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family. 

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!” 

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!” 

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin. 

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.” 

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup. 

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.” 

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly. 

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand. 

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.  

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on. 

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!” 

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!” 

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.” 

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!” 

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.” 

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.” 

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.” 

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.  

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!” 

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss. 

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched. 

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.” 

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out. 

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says. 

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!” 

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?” 

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!” 

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.” 

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched. 

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says. 

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins. 

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker. 

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly. 

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously. 

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.” 

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back. 

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.” 

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him. 

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!” 

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.” 

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life. 

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms. 

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.” 

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink. 

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!” 

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.  

Bob looks at you--you’re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh. 

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all. 

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.” 

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy. 

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

[calummss]

Baby baby | Marshall Mathers

masterlist

summary: you find out your pregnant and tell marshall

pairing: fem! reader x 90s marshall mathers/eminem

words: 880

Positive

As hard as that slap from reality was, it was the only positive thing in your life. You were young, working a part-time job to finance college. Marshall worked many jobs to provide income but it simply wasn’t enough. You could hardly keep the both of you afloat. And now a baby? Where would that money come from? How would you be able to support yourself?

Your chest tightened as you held the test in your hands, the tremors making it hard to read the letters. Ringing in your ears increased the longer you shut out the world. Picking the skin of your lips leaving you with the taste of copper, you crammed the test into your pocket, stuffing the rest of the trash away and walked to the entrance of your parent’s house, grabbing your coat and boots as well as a hat and scarf to combat the harsh Detroit winter. Walking along the streets that were covered in white frost, baby names inspired by winter popped into your mind. All you could think about was the baby. Every person you encountered: baby. Every leaf: baby. It was all you could think about.

Arriving at the restaurant Marshall was currently working at, you walked past the main entrance towards the back entrance, surrounded by trash bags leaning against trash containers. You banged your fist against the door to be sure you’d be heard, your warm breath colliding with the cold air of Detroit, constant shivers trying to keep you from freezing.

The door opened with a powerful pull, DeShaum standing in front of you with a surprised smile. ‘Y/n, what are you doin’ here?’

‘Em here?’

‘No, hello?’ He crossed his arms, his playfulness obvious.

‘Sorry, Shaun, I’m just really fucking stressed right now and I feel like my heart’s gonna drop out of my ass.’ You rambled barely taking time to breathe. ‘I love you but I need to speak to him right now.’

‘I’ll get him.’ He turned around and walked away with only his voice to be heard, ‘Yo, where’s Slim? His girl’s ‘ere!’

‘Thank you.’ You returned the smile, balling your hands in your coat, your legs colliding together as you took steps to keep you moving and your body warm.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ Marshall arrived at the door with his apron around his neck, puzzled as to why you suddenly showed up at his workplace. ‘Boss said I got 15.’

‘Can we go somewhere more private,’ you glanced around the alley, ‘and somewhere warm.’

‘Yeah of course,’ He pulled you into the building, walking you past the kitchen and staff to a break room that was empty. ‘What’s wrong witchu? You don’t look well. You’re pale and look like your about to throw up.’

You stayed quiet, unable to say anything. Your heart was racing, your mind racing with thoughts so fast you were unable to comprehend most of them. The only thing you could do was cry. You stared at Marshall whose worry protruded from his eyes, eyebrows knitted at his hands were placed on both your shoulders. Tears started to well. You tried biting your lip but it was no use. Tears started to fall.

‘Hey, hey what’s wrong?’ Marshall pulled you into his embrace, holding you so tight you could feel the pressure relieve some tension. ‘Watchu crying about?’

‘I. Don’t know.’ You sniffed, wiping away your tears that never stop. ‘I’m scared,’

‘Scared of what, baby?’

‘Em,’ you glanced at him, taking a second to compose yourself, ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘What?’

‘I’m pregnant. I took the test.’ You gave him the test so he could see for himself.

‘What?’

‘It happens when two people constantly have sex.’

‘I’m not fucking stupid, Y/n,’

‘Sorry,’ you sniffed again, your nose blocked, ‘I’m just on edge. I can’t think straight.’ You tried claiming yourself with a deep breath but ended up shaky as your nerves jumped all over the place.

‘Hey, hey,’ Marshall cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. Puffy lids, wide pupils and doe eyes, ready to surrender to the stress that had been planted on you. ‘We’re gonna figure this shit out okay? If you wanna keep it, we keep it. If not then not.’ He nodded. ‘And if we end up eating pasta with ketchup for years to keep us goin’ and give our baby the things we didn’t have. We will be able to do this shit, okay?’

‘Okay,’ you forced a smile, not fully ready to accept reality. ‘Okay.’

‘You know whatchu gonna do?’

‘No not yet. I—I need time to think.’

‘Y/n, listen to me okay,’ his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. ‘You’re gonna go straight home. No staying in the cold. Sit down, make yourself a cup of tea and try to relax okay? I’ma come back as soon as I’m done and then we’re gonna talk this through properly.’

‘Okay,’ quiet sniff. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘Good.’ His face came closer, ‘Stay safe baby.’ He pressed his lips against yours. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Wiping your nose you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and headed out of the back entrance, passing Proof as his gaze lingered on you. What are you going to do?

[taylormarieee]

-Birds of a feather ~A Dean Winchester oneshot~

Summary: you and dean used to be a thing, attached at the hip like birds of a feather, he thinks you guys should stick together and honestly, so do you...

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: dean winchester x fem!hunter!reader

Warnings: hurt to comfort, slight angst, fluff, illusions to sex but none takes place, sam being a supporter/wingman, kisses, touches, mutual pining, reader playing hard to get(just a lil bit), teasing, that's it! lmk if I missed stuff<33

A/N: Hey... how yall doing... I know i've been absent and i'm sorry, so here's a little fic to bring back the life in my blog!

You and dean were the "IT" couple. You guys did everything together, you guys were two peas in a pod. He loved and adored you and you respected and loved him.

You guys were made for each other and it showed. Sam used to get disgusted after a while when you two were so smitten about each other, but then came the arguments.

The arguments about the tiniest things. the arguments that led to angry sex. The moaning, and sweat on each others bodies. The feeling of him inside you was always a good way to release the stress, but then after that there would be a good day and then the cycle started again.

Until there was no more sex, just arguments that led to dean leaving at all hours of the night and you finding comfort in his younger brother.

Talking to sam felt like the best thing in the world every time you fought with dean. You hated fighting with him. He was your love, your future husband, the man of your dreams.

He meant the world to you, and you couldn't bear losing him to some shapeshifter or some demon or even just speeding to fast in his car.

That's why it hurt you when sam got the call that his brother was seriously injured in the hospital due to a car crash. He loved his car so it shocked you when you found out.

JANUARY 6TH 2004, LAWRENCE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, 11:01PM...

You both rushed to the hospital and never left his side. When he finally woke up, you hated to break it to him but you couldn't do it anymore. The arguments, the cold shoulders, him driving off and staying out drinking his life away in all hours of the night.

You kissed him goodbye and left. You lived with Bobby for a little while just until you got on your feet but then you found out a demon was after you for what your father did, something you'll never know.

He's been dead for a little while. Your father. You've been trying to follow in his tracks for a while now.

But anyway, you have been living with Bobby for a while now and every time Bobby said that Dean and Sam were coming over, you always made sure you were never home.

But one day, Bobby didn't tell you and you heard the rev of that impala and immediately froze. You were in your room finishing up your drawing on this Wendigo you killed last week for Bobby with the help of Rufus.

"Hey bobby, what's up." Sam spoke, the vibration of his voice echoing around the halls.

You grabbed your sketchbook and tried to sneak downstairs and run out the back to where your car was parked but unfortunately, they were in the kitchen where the backdoor was.

You peeked in and of course Dean had to be the first one to notice you.

"C'mon out and stop hiding ya ijit!" bobby calls out drawing now Sams attention. Both of the Winchester brother's had wide eyes as they watched you come out from the corner.

You were wearing a black long sleeved crop-top with baggy jeans that had stars on the pant legs.

"I'm not an ijit bobby, how many times are you gonna call me that!?" you ask bobby while rolling your eyes trying not to acknowledge the brothers, specifically Dean whose eyes cannot leave your body and face.

'When did you get so many piercings.' he thought to himself.

"Well when you stop leaving the house for hours everytime I tell you there coming over, you haven't seen em in months almost a year now, you can't keep hiding." Bobby tells you.

you sigh and look at the both of them and that's when you lock eyes with dean again.

"Hey dean. Hey sam."

"Hey." they say in unison. you give them a tightlipped awkward smile and then put your journal down.

"Wanna see some of the drawings of my most recent kills so far? It's a lot of vampires, demons, wendigo's you know, the whole shebang." you aks with a smile.

They both smile at you like there proud and say sure. you nod and open your journal.

You had some notes and details next to your drawings. They all looked at it in fascination and awe.

"These are amazing! Did you hunt them all on your own?" Sam asks as he flips through the pages.

"N-no, well kinda. I had help every now and then." you say looking at bobby with a smile.

He grew to be your father and you really appreciated him for who he was and what he's done for you.

"These are really great but uh, can I talk to you outside for a minute? Please?" Dean asks looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that you knew you couldn't say no to.

"Yeah Dean, sure... cmon." you say as you walk outside with him near all of bobby's abandoned junky cars.

"What's up dean?" you asks folding your arms across your chest.

"how have you been?" he asks keeping it casual and short.

"I've been doing fine, how about you?" he smiles and steps a bit closer to you. you fight the urge to step back.

"I've been thinking about you. For months. Wonderin' where you've been, how you've been holdin' up but I see you've been doin' just fine." he says with a slight tilt of his head.

"Yea I have de-"

"I ain't finished just yet doll. Why have you been avoiding us? Avoiding me?" he asks sternly.

you roll your eyes, 'here we go'.

The conversation you've been dreading to have. You thought he'd just leave it alone but what the hell were you thinking?

This is Dean, THE Dean Winchester we are talking about here. He's relentless until he gets his way.

"Look Dean, I really don't want to talk about this right now ok? I don't wanna argue with you." you tell him in the most nicest way possible.

"Ok..." he takes a long pause. "Why not?" he asks, making you sigh a very annoyed and long sigh.

"Because Dean, the way we could turn a civil conversation into an argument was honestly stupid and insane, so please for the sake of saving me a headache and meltdown and you getting into another severe car crash, drop it." you explain to him.

His eyes soften almost. Letting the relentless side of him slowly fade away bringing out your dean, the soft mushy bear dean.

"You- you still remember that night?" he asks softly.

"dean I remember it like it was yesterday. All I have are nightmares of you in the hospital, your heart stopped beating for 5 minutes! How could I not think about how the man I loved died right in front of me over a damn argument! I always blame myself!" you shout.

"You shouldn't ha-" he starts.

"I shouldn't what? Have that guilt?! Oh, but I do Dean. Every day I play scenarios in my head. M-Maybe i-if I was more understanding then you wouldn't have left, maybe if I wasn't so mad over the smallest thing, maybe if I just talked it out like a normal human being, then maybe, MAYBE! the love of my life would still be with me right now."

His eyes widen. He's stunned at your confession but you don't even give him time to talk as you walk towards your car, A Cadillac DTS.

You hop in and drive off.

~NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, BOBBY'S GARAGE, 9:30PM~

Your car finally pulls up in the driveway and you notice that dean's impala is still here. 'So there staying the night huh?' you thought.

you turn off your car and get out. you open the door with the key you have and walk inside the house.

Bobby's asleep on the couch in front of the new tv you bought him two weeks ago.

You smile and grab the nearest blanket you can find and wrap it around him to shield him from the cold outside.

You lay a soft kiss to his head and whisper him a goodnight. you turn around and notice a figure standing in the kitchen, you jump and pull out your pocket knife but you realize it's just Sam.

"Hey, sam." you greet quietly.

H eturns around clearly pretending to not know about your prescence and smiles.

"Oh hey! I promised Bobby I'd still be awake in case you ever came back." he says as you walk over to stand next to him.

"aw thank's Sammy." you say with a geniune smile to which he reciprocates.

"hey, can I uhm, tell you something that I think you should hear?" he asks shifting his weight.

"yea go ahead." you respond crossing your arms in front of you, a habit you had.

"Dean hasn't been focused or okay ever since you left. He's been kinda broken. Screwing any girl that looked at him the right way or taking his anger out on me and that's nothing I can't handle but, I just hate seeing him like that." Sam expresses.

"Hate seeing him like what?" you ask concerned.

"Like a part of him is missing. Whenever I look at dean, he's staring into nothing, as if he's dead. There are nights where he mutters your name and hugs the motel pillows like they are you. Only to wake up facing the reality that your not there, your not here with him anymore." he explains.

"I just can't keep seeing my brother drink and fuck his life away until he slowly fades into nothing. I watched him die for 5 minutes, I'm not going to watch him suffer anymore. Please, bring the life back into my brother, that is all I ask." Sam asks and then walks away.

"goodnight." he say lastly before dissappearing into the other room.

you stand there, contemplating on what you just heard, clearly not seeing the effect you left not only on dean but on sam as well. It tugs at your heart and suddenly you feel dizzy, almost like you can't breathe.

You step outside for a second and breathe in the cool air. You sit down and cry, you just cry and cry.

~MEANWHILE, INSIDE WITH SAM AND DEAN, 3 HOURS PRIOR~

"Sam come on please. You gotta tell her. I can't keep doing this anymore, you said it yourself Sammy." dean pleads with sam.

Dean had asked Sam to talk to you, to just tell her how he's been feeling and tell her that he needs you, that he can't keep living without you.

After you broke up with him so randomly in the hospital, he just couldn't keep going.

He was constantly overstimulated and constantly angry. The anger in him never died down until he saw you today for the first time in months.

His heart warmed up at the thought of seeing you in that outfit and being so bubbly, it made him miss you all the more.

Like a burning flame that was slowly dying and losing its light and being drained of its passion by the coldness of your heart.

It left him stunned that you could do something to him after such a tramatic experience.

All he wanted was for you to fuel him back to life, bring the happiness back into his life.

All those other chicks he fucked and left in different towns just weren't doing it for him anymore.

Not like you.

You had him hooked. Enfatued by your mere presence. He needed to be careful with you though.

Placing the sofest touch to the weakest petal. Caring for you like a rare feather.

He never wanted you to leave his side, because right now? He was going crazy in the maze in his empty mind.

He may be speaking in poems or riddle form but for you? He couldn't contain or shield his seeping heart that was torn.

And that his why his brother had to confess that to you, what dean didn't predict was for it to go that way.

~BACK TO THE PRESENT- NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, 10:45PM~

Your just sitting outside now, all forms of crying done. You didn't know how much you hurt dean that night.

You were just doing what was best for you, but I guess that was you being selfish. You only added salt to an already salty wound.

You made him bleed more than he did that night. You made his heart collapse.

He was your everything, and you guess seeing him die that night, you felt the need to distance yourself as much as possible to make sure you didn't lose him again.

And yet, all you did was hurt him even more and make your life and his ten times worse.

Bobby was right, you couldn't keep hiding from him. He was your savior and your becon.

He was always there at your beck and call. You both flew together like two parrots in love.

You stuck by each other like seahorses. You made him whole and he made you complete.

You were each other's puzzle pieces. He was the Clyde to your Bonnie.

You were going to do everything and anything it takes to get him back to you.

You get up, ready to open the door but someones hand is already turning the knob before you and it swings open.

Dean...

"Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone was out here," he announces tiredly.

Your frozen, you forgot how good Dean always looked when he woke up in the middle of the night.

Tousled hair, soft pink lips, and glazed-over eyes shining in the moonlight.

"n-no it's ok, I was actually going to come look for you. I wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?"

"Yea yea, that's fine with me." he says a slight smile on his face.

You both sit down staring at the stars in silence before Dean speaks up.

“so, what’s wrong?” He speaks out into the misty air of the night.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never left you that night. You died and then came back and you were fucking suffering and I just hurt you even more. I know you can probably never forgive me for that and I just wanted to let you know that I am incredibly sorry. I love you Dean, your the love of my life, your my safe place. I wouldn’t even be alive half the time if it wasn’t for you, I am grateful for you, your my future husband and I know I ruined my chance of ever getting to kiss you again but just know it’s ok and I’m sorry.” You speak out in one breath!

Dean blinks as it takes him a second to register what you said because you spoke so fast but he eventually chuckled and pulls you closer to him.

“Oh doll, I love you so much and I forgive you, why wouldn’t I? You’re the only thing that kept me going. My motivation to find my dad, my motivation to move on and protect Sam. I don't know where I would be without you and my brother. I love you for that and I’m grateful to have you here with me right now. No more focusing on the past, time for the future. Cmon, let’s go inside.” He says with a smile on his face

you nod and smile grabbing deans hand so he can pull you up. He walks towards the door to open it and you stop him by grabbing his hand.

“Dean wait!” you exclaim. He turns around with confusion and you grab his face and kiss him. You kiss him roughly and you kiss him with so much passion.

He grabs your waist and kisses you back with the same amount of passion.

you both break the kiss and rest your heads on each other.

“don’t know what that was for but I really liked it.” Dean speaks with a smirk on his face to which you giggle at.

“wanted to seal the deal of our love.” You say with a smile.

“your such a tease you know that? I was pining for you all day.” He says with a smile

“well what can I say? I’m a girl that likes to play hard to get. The moment I laid eyes on you today I wanted to pounce on you.”

“Well baby, you got all night.” He says with a smirk and a wink.

Birds of a feather, we always knew you two would stick together...

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