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theoxenfree · 1 month ago

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possessed scholar!husband x reader |3.9k| 18+

In an unforeseen act of self-preservation, your family marries you off into an exorbitantly wealthy family, to a reclusive and reticent scholar who provides you little affection. He is suddenly called away for the handling of his late uncle's final will wishes and estate. He returns to you not himself, and with unquenchable lust.

warnings; dead dove do not eat; extreme dubon, explicit sexual content, mentions of (not explored, not described): orgies, heatplay, robbing a mortuary & drug use, masturbation w/ metal dildo, mirror sex & masturbation, hypnotism, power imbalance, murder, body horror, gruesome imagery, classism, detail & prose heavy, roughly proofread.

this is a concept piece, possibly preluding a full story! if you have any interest in having me build a larger piece out of this concept, PLEASE reblog + interact and let me know! I'm only going to go forward with it if folks express interest!

read to the end for author's notes!

In the airless dark of your bedroom at night, you knew the man lying next to you under covers was not your husband. Once he had been, but now he no longer was.

The revelation had come to you before noticing the stillness of his broad frame in bed, certain stiffness which seemed more alike to rigor in a days old corpse rather than a man wrapped in the comforting spell of deep sleep.

His breaths were silent, if he even breathed at all, reminding you of childhood where the floorboards wouldn't creak so loudly if you sucked all the air out from your lungs into your throat, snagging it, holding it firm. Suddenly, you'd be lighter; effervescent; floating across the wooden slabs towards the kitchen past midnight, or out the front door during the years where testing your parent’s patience and fraying the head maid’s nerves was your favorite thing to do.

You’d learned later on, after the loveless vows and complicated legality behind joining your two families, that your husband had a knack for slipping away at night as well. Only, he wasn't at all the sort for flirtatious gallivanting and loquacious rendezvous with secret lovers in dim rooms, smells of mildew masked by a numbingly sweet, perfumey fog.

He was reclusive and reticent; one of those outstandingly brilliant scholars who believed the rest of the world was below him because he hadn't found an equal in conversation or thought. Social obligations—no matter the occasion or person—pained him to where he intentionally brought you as a buffer between himself and whomever was trying to speak to him.

Some of the talk was so astronomically beyond you that parroting the long-winded answers he spoke softly into your ear back to his audience made you burn under the collar from embarrassment and his proximity to you. His peers could not understand why he simply wouldn't talk for himself; meanwhile, they also wondered why someone without their level of formal education had even accompanied him.

At night, he became one with darkness and retreated to the depths of his study across the massive house you shared together. It was part of one of his family’s various estates dotted across the country and his favorite, due to its location near the university where he worked (at his leisure), and its closeness to his only relative he actually cared about.

“My uncle—he has passed. Of complications caused from tuberculosis, I've been told. I was the only family member placed in his will, therefore it falls to me to settle all remaining affairs he may have overlooked,” he said, letting you help him into his heavy, wool coat he left on a hook near the front door. At his side was a hulking suitcase; one he often used for trips that were days—weeks away from home, from you. “He was a far more private man than I, so there's no telling what I'll come across while I'm there. I cannot tell you how long I'll be away. I'm sorry.”

You expected nothing less from him. This man who had only ever touched you once, on your wedding day. He did everything that he was supposed to: tonelessly regurgitate scripted vows he committed to memory, hold your hands, and kiss you at the altar for more than two seconds but less than five, and then gently lead you away once both families were pleased with the performance.

Right after, now as newlyweds, he poured bourbon into exquisite crosshatch crystalware and examined the glistening amber under wan lamplight. He apologized for kissing you, that he wouldn't have had at all if it hadn't been so important for your families.

At the time, it made you feel very ugly and undeserving of the silk and ornate lacework decorating your body. The gold band fitted around your finger was a lofty symbol of acquired wealth, heavy and unforgiving.

“Write to me every once and a while,” was all you could think to say at present, managing your composure well enough as he gripped the handle of his suitcase and leaned into its heftiness on that side. “It'd just be nice to know how you're doing. If you find anything interesting. When you'll be coming home. It gives me something to look forward to.”

“I'll try to,” he said, but looked through you, pierced you, as though trying to see something else. You saw this look most often at events or parties where he'd fixate on a specific point (usually you) and seem to recede inside himself, into his thoughts, perhaps trying to dissect them or make them congeal into something linear.

“Uncle was an eccentric man. There's no telling what he's left behind for me to find. I must go. Be well, my dear.”

Once again, he left you behind without remorse.

Four months passed with agonizing, gripping slowness from the crisp mornings of late autumn into the icy vise of winter and a shimmering white-blue landscape outside your windows.

In those days, you occupied yourself as best you could with guests and alcoholic merriment, whisked yourself away to parties and dinners after wringing out the invitations from friends, and spent many sleepless nights sprawled across the floor beside the fireplace coveting self-pleasure.

You imagined it was your husband there with you, immediately a renewed man after his return and finding you boundlessly desirable, fucking you with his cock rather than the freezing metal dildo you thrust inside yourself.

Even once you were finished, fucked out by your own hand and the object gaping you wide, you kept masturbating until you lost sensation, the motions and metal numbing you inside—until the intimacy and thrill of self-discovery had lost meaning to you.

Sometimes, you were found the next morning by a maid like that: thoroughly debauched with the phallus having rolled away nearby or still shallowly pressed inside. You only needed to threaten her livelihood once for her to never speak of it, pretend each time she hadn't witnessed a regrettable case of personal depravity.

It'd eventually become a frequent enough sight to her that she knew better than to look directly at you when she entered the room. Rather, now, she carried a laundered pair of trousers in with her. They were draped neatly over a bent arm, along with a warm and soapy rag in her hand, which she used to lightly clean you of dried fluids. Afterward, she helped you into the new garment.

“You have received a letter from the Master,” she said unexpectedly one morning, after fastening your pants and tucking your blouse inside them. “It's strange, though, because it doesn't feel like a letter. Not enough… substance. Shall I open it for you?”

“No! No, that's alright.” You took the long, pale envelope from her once she revealed it to you, realizing that she was right. There was nothing to it. Light as a feather, but completely sealed on the back with his personal emblem hastily stamped, or more appropriately, smeared, with red wax dribbling away from center towards the bottom of the envelope as if sudden jerkiness had unsteadied his focused pour.

You flipped the thing front to back several times, testing the way the opposite ends fluttered from nothingness within, and glanced aside to your maid.

She looked to be just as thrown.

“You're sure this is from him?” you asked, bemused. “Who delivered this?”

“Why, a courier on horseback, of course!” she said with conviction, so you knew she wasn't lying to you at that moment. It wasn't her habit to weave tales to get a rise out of her employers, anyway. “I even spoke to the courier for a while because I made a comment about it being so light. He wasn't sure about it, either, but the description of the man who hired him matched the Master almost exactly.”

You had found a letter opener on the desk nearby and made a quick cut under the wax to break the seal without ripping the envelope itself.

“Almost? What does that mean here?” you raised the intact flap with the messy seal attached, freeing all of the residual tracks of wax from the paper so that they fell to the hardwood below like pebbles shaken out of a shoe after a stroll through the yard. “The man was either my husband or he wasn't.”

The maid tried to subdue her intrigue of the envelope, turned, and moved onto bunching up the soiled sheet you'd spread out on the floor last night. “Please don't misunderstand. It was him. But, the courier described him as ‘a very interesting and friendly fellow to converse with’.”

“What?”

You were responding to two things simultaneously right then: what your maid had just told you, and the fact that the only content inside the envelope was a single shred of paper torn from an unlined journal.

The maid fluttered back over to your side as you plucked out the slither of paper, letting the envelope fall freely from your hand to the floor. Leaning into your proximity, she read aloud the same three words that your eyes skimmed:

“Father Marius DuMonde.”

Just as you had done before with the envelope, you flipped the scrap back and forth as though trying to magically flip something into existence. Your husband's handwriting was recognizable in the lettering, but it was impatient; scrawled across a page in one journal in his vast collection like he hurriedly walked past, and then ripped it out.

Nothing else was revealed to you in the seconds after, nor in your long, contemplative stare.

“Who is that?” you asked the maid to alleviate a fast yawning gap of uneasiness beginning to make you fidget and fluster. “A priest?”

The maid beamed in awe of your fast deductive skills and nodded eagerly. “It would seem that way! The city has more places of worship than it does homes for the hungry and sick. Although, I suppose a church offers some of those services.” However, the lightness sank out of her face when you didn't reciprocate that enthusiasm whatsoever. “You’re unhappy? What's wrong?”

“My husband is a scholar. A rigid man of science,” you said, bending over to pick up the discarded envelope to closer examine the disastrous wax seal. “He denounces faith in all forms. Why did he write a priest's name to me?”

That maddening thought followed you for days afterward, sufficiently distracting you from all the regular vices you'd come to rely on to fill the void of your husband's absence. Fulfill the needs he'd never tried to meet even while he was around.

You spent your days brooding in the window seats in whichever room was warmest, molding against their domed shape while leaning a cheek flush to frigid glass, eyes bloodshot and watering against the sun’s searing neon reflecting off of a lawn of undiluted, glittering white.

Seldomly, a finch or small vermin would come into your view—hopping or lunging through the snow, making tracks, digging holes, disturbing your beautiful wonderland and almost arousing you into unreasonable outbursts which then inevitably became the servants responsibility to contend with, should any be nearby to provoke you.

It was the early evening during one of your normal watches, just after dinner and a glass of red wine, when a great clamor carried swiftly to you from the foyer of the main entrance. The servants’ voices were a feverish amalgam of nonsensical babbling, high-pitched, and accommodating in a way that made you think of groveling dogs with flattened ears, wagging and tucked tails, bellies upturned to their masters.

“Come! Come quickly!” called your maid from the sitting room door, her shrill, excitable voice a violent jostling in your head, scrambling your thoughts and anger with it. “Master has returned! He's asking for you.”

You delayed the reunion, waiting several minutes after she had gone before standing. You realized that the anticipation you felt swelling in your chest, rising like growth—a malignant tumor into your throat, thickening your tongue and fouling your taste and smell, was because you were uneasy, haunted by the cryptic message he had presumably sent you weeks ago.

A while later, you entered the foyer to see most of the staff had already dispersed and the ones left behind were your husband’s most loyal. There among them, speaking so unremarkably, so casually in a way you'd never witnessed, was your husband. His good spirits and animated gestures as he handed off all his things to many hands were an odd sight, staggeringly unlike his typical dour.

So, the rumor was true. There was something discomforting in that.

Whatever topic he'd been engaged in fell wayside once he took sight of you: standing, waiting, subtly shifting your weight, picking your overgrown cuticles to remedy how nervous you truly felt in that moment. You'd always been a little uncertain of how to deal with him as he was hardly affable, but this—

“Oh my… there you are, my sweet!” his voice was exactly the same, but his way of speaking was too jarring, almost lilting. Unnatural. No one else seemed to notice. “I was worried you may have been cross with me for being away for so long. As it turned out, uncle had far more beneath the surface to find than I once thought. But, all is well! The old man has been laid to rest forever. The estate is in the right hands. I've come back to you.”

Could this man really be your husband?

He came to you in brisk strides with a certain clumsiness to the way he moved, somewhat off. You thought about seasoned drunkards who could walk along a path, but never on a straight line without gently swaying on and off of it. Mostly in control, but never so well to appear normal.

But, you didn't detect that stiff, hot, fermented reek of alcohol on his breath nor any subtle odor sticking to his clothes as he gripped you tight in an embrace. The only one he'd ever given you. Where you should have been over the moon in joy at his profound change in heart, the little sweetness was like an anchor—arms of a sinewy willow pinning you to an even stronger trunk.

“God, you're breathtaking.” He even sounded winded as he spoke, lifting your face up with both hands to see his dark, dark gleaming eyes. You startled from his cold touch, fingertips pinpricks of pure frost and ice as they pushed into your skin, but you felt trying to reach much deeper than that. “Come with me, my love. Let me show you just how much I've missed you.”

As if fantasy had become real, he fucked you relentlessly that night next to the fireplace, consuming you so completely that every orgasm made your insides churn in agony.

He laved at you with his entire mouth, tongue and teeth hardest at work while his hands bruised and fondled you, fingers thrusting up into your tight hole oozing his saliva and your arousal. It was shameful to think that it took this sort of handling from another person to get you off, squeal like a sow.

He fucked you however he could, wherever he could. Rutting you from behind and against furniture, pressing your bare chest flush to frosted over window panes to make your nipples erect and ache from the cold biting them.

Then, you were settled on his lap in front of a mirror hanging adjacent across the bedroom, his thighs spreading you wide open before your own reflection where you watched his cock plunge deep, filling you to the base of his shaft, balls slapping your sticky skin.

“Touch yourself, darling.” His throat rumbled, turning over stones and shards of glass, overall sounding very husky. There was something of wheeze that trailed the end of his every word, like he’d been patched for a long time. “Touch yourself. Watch yourself while you do it. Fuck yourself like the whore you are.”

Although the things he said were horribly uncouth, unbefitting of a man of his status and who you'd known him to be, there was great allure in hearing him, obeying his wants. You'd only had one glass of wine that evening, but your head and body warmed and buzzed like you'd had several.

His voice was a raspy whisper in your ears, seeping deep into your mind; spreading; fitting the grooves of your brain like the slow sprawl of sap through the gaps in bark. You were hardly yourself those minutes, those hours onward where you witnessed your reflection stroking throbbing parts, moaning, weeping, cumming until it hurt, and then doing it all over again.

The person in the mirror seemed to be someone completely different, whether simply disassociation from yourself or some hallucination evoked by exhaustion and ecstacy. Your husband had faded into the background, his voice creating sounds and noises, holding the cadence of language while seeming entirely unprobable, unknowable to you.

You couldn't understand him, yet you could, and the things he said were vile and disgusting and moralless. He told you of every way he'd like to fuck you, watch you be fucked; but, mostly, he wanted you to fuck yourself with the bulbous bedposts, the metal phallus held under lashing flames to be inserted next to his own cock.

He suggested orgies where the servants could take turns with you. He had almost convinced you to call for your maid so he could watch you suck on her breasts and lick her clit, while he rammed you from the back. He suggested drugs and whores, robbing the mortuaries, and worse and worse and worse and worse…

The next morning, you were stiff and immobile, bedridden unless two servants came into your room to help you squat on the commode. Your abdomen was tender and your genitals were untouchable, forcing you to lie in bed without undergarments to alleviate the raw chafing that could happen with fabric.

“I'm sorry, my darling. I—I lost control of myself. I got carried away,” your husband confessed later on, his sallow complexion keeping a weird, waxy sheen to it. A mask that fits, but not quite perfectly. Some of his former somber nature had returned to him as he sat on the edge of your bed, caressing the side of your face. He was still ridiculously cold. “Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't realize just how desperate I was to see you again until you were in my arms. And then—and then, it was like it was all a dream.”

You thought the very same. You could believe he forgot himself in an uncharacteristic blaze of lust, as men were never taught to be any other way, and most men couldn't fathom the level of restraint he’d had until last night.

Everything else, you'd wanted to believe, was simply imagined after drinking more than you once thought and getting inside your own head full of sinful indulgences.

Still, one thing bothered you: Father Marius DuMonde.

“I need you to go to the city and find him. And show him this paper. Explain to him everything that you know, you hear?” You'd handed your maid the old envelope and scrap of paper, and handed her a generous bag of coins from your own safe.

She looked at you, everything else, in bewilderment. “Don't ask questions. If you're able, bring him back here. Beg him if you must. If it's all nothing, he will simply be an honored guest we feed well, house, and send off gracefully the next day. Should it be something…”

“Are you afraid of him? The Master?” asked the maid, perhaps out of faithfulness to him. Perhaps out of devotion to you the most. “What do you think happened at his uncle's estate?”

It would all be speculation and unjustified gossip without proof, of which you had none. So, you told her that you couldn't be sure of anything right now. “Wait until sundown. Take the old pony in the stables, the one that usually lags behind all the rest. Be silent. Be careful.”

The maid did as you asked and left right before the final light was extinguished by indigo nightfall. You were able to move to one of the windows, seating yourself gingerly, watching her lead the sluggish old pony into cover of tree tops and then nothing else.

But, five days later, the maid hadn't returned from her mission, nor had you received any correspondence from her, nor the priest that she was supposed to retrieve.

A week after that, it was revealed to you that neither she or the old pony had made it out of the woods. The details of the old pony were so gruesome you couldn't bear to remember them.

But, the maid was found nearly decapitated, head twisted around to face backwards, her pale skin hideously purple and black and swelled where it had been stretched like a strap of wrung leather. It was mentioned she had been disemboweled as well, but you promptly burst into tears and ran from the room before the visiting coroner could finish speaking, leaving him to discuss the rest with just your husband.

That night, you lay next to your husband in bed. The deep silence of night filled your ears with static and crunching cotton, whereas a hum resonated inside your head, your chest, seeping into your bones like a cold blanket of rainfall.

The black air took on weird shapes: imagined appendages curling, reaching across the ceiling towards the bed, towards you. Your eyes couldn't focus enough to ward them off, nor the depth of dark your husband's silhouette had at your side.

He was faced the other way, his clothes back to you, completely unmoving. You ventured closer to listen for the thin breathing of sleep, the automatic rise and fall of his body, and yet he could've been mistaken as one of the dead. As dead and gnarled as your maid.

“Who are you?” you asked him. Asked the swirling nothingness in the room. “Where is my husband?”

“You've nothing to worry about, my sweet,” he said readily, so clearly anticipating to have your voice ring out at some point in the night. “He is here with me. Such a selfish, unlovable man. I am the one worthy of this vessel and you. Not he.”

Then, he rolled on top of you and kissed you deeply. Your bedclothes were shucked from your bodies and he pushed your thighs apart to seat himself inside of you. He took you with greedy thrusts, face fitted against the arch of your neck where his breath left a moist film across your skin, but the rest of him was freezing.

Your whimpers of pains were dwarfed by his hot moans into your flesh, teeth suddenly sharper and sinking deep when he bit into your neck. You were trapped staring at the ceiling, wrapped in agony and pleasure, feeling his body under your fingertips beginning to distort and change into something far more monstrous.

a/n; this is heavily inspired from me reading the exorcist, recently. the section with the maid's head swiveled around was a nod to the scene with director having "fallen" from a height and dying similarly. a lot of my most recent reads have been extremely graphic, so my writing has been reflecting that and it's been interesting!

quick q&a!

is father marius dumonde the same father marius from your vampire priest fic? yup! if I go forward with writing the longer story, father marius will be a central character later on, and father shaw will make a reappearance as well.

what would the main differences be in a full story vs just this piece?

a) the husband would be given a more solid identity, appearance, and name. he'd have more depth to build an emotional rapport with his character.

b) existing scenes would be expanded, smut scenes grittier and more graphic, more development between mc and the husband, the maid would have a more important part and given an identity. essentially, most elements from this price would be fleshed out and expanded.

c) I intend to add a "mystery" element to this where mc tries to unveil what happened during the husband's stay at his uncle's estate.

d) I would open up multiple polls to help influence different aspects of the story such as the husband's name, appearance, overall disposition, whether the majority would vote for a happy ending with the husband vs the ending with the demon.

if you're interested in seeing a full story, make sure to reblog and share your thoughts with me!! I'd love to hear feedback on this to know what you'd like to see in the future!

#demon x you #demon x human #demon x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monster x reader #monster smut #monster fucker #monster story #monsterfucking nsft #oc x reader #oc x you #original character x reader #original character x you #original fiction #writing #reader insert #reader interactive #monster romance

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moonselune · 5 months ago

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Could I request a Tav that has a gorgeous sibling, that has stolen at least one of Tav's lovers in the past, and tries to put the moves on one of the boys when they get back to the city?

ooohooohoooooooooo I love this

Gale:

The library at Candlekeep was a sanctuary of knowledge and tranquility. Gale was engrossed in a tome, his mind deep in the arcane intricacies of a spell when he heard the soft padding of footsteps approaching. He looked up to see your sister, a vision of beauty with her hair cascading in waves and eyes that sparkled with mischief.

"Gale," she purred, stepping closer. "I've always admired your intellect and… other qualities."

Gale arched an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tone of her words. He had heard about her previous antics and was prepared to be anything but tolerable. "Is there something you need?" he asked, keeping his tone polite but distant.

She moved closer, her fingers brushing against his arm. "I was hoping we could get to know each other better," she murmured, leaning in as if to kiss him.

Gale stepped back, his expression one of clear distaste. "You must be joking," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "The very idea that I would be interested in you rather than dear Y/N is frankly laughable."

Her eyes flashed with surprise and embarrassment. "But… why?" she stammered.

Gale's gaze softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. "Because I love them," he stated simply. "And nothing you could offer would ever tempt me away from them."

With that, he turned back to his book, chuckling to himself, leaving your sister standing there, her cheeks burning with humiliation. You walked in, a brow cocked at your sister, wondering why she looked distressed and it didn't take you long to piece together why.

Smugly, you strode over to Gale, placing your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him, kissing his neck. Gale flustered but reciprocated and your sister quickly left to leave you to your private moment.

"I love you," You told him between kisses.

"I love you more." Gale smiled and held you closer. Your sister long forgotten.

Halsin:

Halsin was tending to his herbs and potions in the corner of the camp, his hands moving deftly as he worked. Your brother approached, a feigned look of distress on his face.

"Halsin, I feel so unwell," he said, clutching his stomach dramatically. "Could you please help me?"

Halsin glanced up, his keen eyes immediately recognizing the act. "Of course," he replied, though his tone carried a hint of skepticism. Especially as this was only one of your brother's latest acts. "What seems to be the problem?"

Your brother stumbled forward, leaning heavily on Halsin. "I just need some… intimate attention," he said, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Halsin's brow furrowed in confusion and then realization. He gently but firmly pushed your brother away, his expression one of clear rejection. "I'm afraid you're mistaken if you think I would fall for such a ruse," he said, his voice calm but stern.

"But Halsin, surely you could make an exception," your brother pressed, trying to regain his footing. "I know nature calls to you just as it calls to me, primally."

"It does," Halsin shook his head, his eyes unwavering. "But my heart belongs to your sibling. They are the one I care for deeply, and I will not be swayed by your attempts," he said firmly. "Now, if you are truly unwell, I will help you. But if not, I suggest you leave."

Your brother's face turned red with embarrassment, and he quickly retreated, his plan thwarted. As he walked away you approached Halsin, no words needed to be exchanged and you relaxed in his embrace, knowing that his heart was yours, and yours was his.

Wyll:

Wyll was in the middle of practicing his swordplay near the camp when your sister approached, her eyes gleaming with mischief and intent. She had a reputation for causing trouble, and Wyll had heard the stories, but he always gave people the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, Wyll," she exclaimed suddenly, her voice filled with a dramatic tone. "I feel so faint!" She staggered forward, pretending to swoon, and Wyll, ever the gentleman, instinctively moved to catch her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

She batted her eyelashes at him and clung to his arm, her face inching closer to his. "Oh, Wyll, you’re so strong and handsome. How could I ever resist you?" She leaned in for a kiss.

Wyll's eyes widened in realization, and he immediately pulled back, letting her drop unceremoniously to the ground. "What are you doing?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and disgust in his voice.

Your sister looked up at him, shocked and embarrassed. "I thought—"

Wyll shook his head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "You thought I would choose you over my love? The very idea is laughable. My heart belongs to them, and nothing you do can change that."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her sitting in the dirt, her face red with humiliation.

Astarion:

Astarion was sharpening his daggers by the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames, when your sibling approached, their steps deliberate and their eyes predatory. Astarion glanced up, sensing their presence, but he kept his focus on his task.

"Hello, Astarion," they purred, their voice dripping with false sweetness. "I hear you're quite the expert in, shall we say, matters of blood?" They extended their arm, a small cut visible on their wrist. "Care to help me clean up?"

Astarion's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly. He could smell the desperation and deceit. He leaned closer, his expression turning from mild interest to utter revulsion. "Your blood stinks," he said bluntly, pushing their arm away.

They recoiled, shocked and offended. "What did you just say?"

Astarion stood up, his gaze cold and piercing. "I said, your blood stinks. And more importantly, you disgust me. Do you really think I would prefer you over my beloved? The very idea is laughable."

He turned away, leaving them standing there, their face flushed with shame and anger, the sting of his words lingering in the air. "Oh darling you would never guess what just happened-"

Rolan:

Rolan was busy studying his spellbook, completely immersed in his magical studies, when your sister approached, her intentions clear to everyone but him. They sat down next to him, leaning in far closer than necessary.

"Rolan," she whispered, their breath brushing against his ear. "I've always admired your intellect. Maybe you could teach me a few things… in private?"

Rolan looked up from his book, blinking in confusion. "Huh? Oh, sure, I can teach you some spells if you want," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his book.

They placed a hand on his thigh, leaning even closer. "I was thinking of something more… personal."

It took a moment for the implications to register, but when they did, Rolan's eyes widened, and he burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face, his laughter echoing through sorcerous sundries.

"You… you really think I'd be interested in you?" he gasped between laughs. "That's hilarious! Oh gods, that's rich. You should be a comedian at the Elfsong!"

Your sister's face turned bright red with humiliation and anger. "But—"

Rolan wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling. "Oh, please. The very idea that I would choose you over Y/N is laughable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some actual important things to do."

He turned back to his book, leaving them fuming and embarrassed, her plan thoroughly thwarted. He was still laughing to himself when he returned to the tower and you looked up in him at confusion yet he wouldn't tell you what happened, just suggested that you should skip your trip to your sister's next month:

Raphael:

The elegant and opulent atmosphere of the Hells always had an air of temptation and danger. Raphael lounged in his luxurious chamber, a goblet of fine wine in his hand, when your brother approached with a sly smile.

"Raphael, I've heard so much about your… unique talents," he said, his voice smooth and seductive. "Perhaps we could make a special deal, just between us."

Raphael's eyes flickered with amusement and disdain. "Oh? And what could you possibly offer that would interest me?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Your brother moved closer, his intentions clear. "Anything you desire," he whispered, leaning in.

Raphael laughed, a sound both melodious and menacing. He pushed your brother away with a flick of his wrist, sending him sprawling. "You really think I would choose you over your sibling?" he scoffed. "The idea is utterly laughable."

Your brother's face flushed with anger and humiliation. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Raphael interrupted, his tone icy. "My interest lies solely with them. You are nothing but a poor imitation."

With that, Raphael dismissed your brother with a wave of his hand, turning his attention back to his wine, his loyalty to you unshakable.

Hope y'all enjoy this - Seluney xoxo

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kanmom51 · 2 months ago

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Are you sure?! Sapporo - Episode 8

I know.

I know it's been a bit and a half.

I know it's taken me time to come here and talk about the last episode.

I've been digesting, totally in the feels, and trying to recover.

The photobook, JM's little piece of information regarding his whereabouts night before Jeju and the pic. OMG, that JK marked by JM pic. The more you think about it the crazier it gets. That they actually did that and that the photo made it's way into the book (not to mention us knowing that JM has that pic he took of JK on his phone). All quite a distraction from me working through my thoughts about the episode. A welcomed distraction, but a distraction none the less.

This last episode we got of their Sapporo trip was an emotional rollercoaster. Not only for JK and JM. The level of Joy on the one hand. Seeing them so very happy. And them allowing us to see even more of them and their happiness. Like JM said:

Thinking again about what he said here... and then going back to this:

Yeah, I know he was talking about their Sapporo trip, but you know that this isn't the first time we saw JM wanting to claim his territory.

I know I don't have to point out where JM was pointing where he was going to be writing "Jimin", right?

So, this too is something JM does at home? Just a thought, lol.

And then those two just had to kill me. I know they were both pensive and sad it was all coming to an end, but JM crying, that just devastated me (because It's JM, and JM struggles so with showing himself so vulnerable).

So yes, it has taken me a second to get my wits together and come back and talk a bit with you about what we had in Episode 8.

When I finished watching the episode for the first time I couldn't help but think:

It's the end of the world as we know it...

Well, not really, because we knew it pretty well, but for those that didn't (or wouldn't see it, or denied it, or lived in a delusion that it wasn't happening) it sure is changed.

And then we get JM and JK just crushing down all those TKK rickety houses of cards (see what I did there?) with the photobook. Absolutely priceless!!

Are you sure?! Episode 8

Filled with romance and sentiment and so much feels. Couplie feels.

This episode, is the one, out of all those it followed, to cement for us, the spectators (all spectators, not only Jikookers), that these two are... drumroll... a REAL LIFE long term ever so loving couple.

No huge ear sucking, hickey showing or sunscreen claiming moments. And yet, this episode differs so much from the ones that came before because the whole aura of it was so heavy in "if it looks like a duck and quack like a duck then it's a fucking couple you idiots, just open your eyes".

This is JM and JK just being themselves albeit Sapporo Jikook are innately different due to timing and place - Japan and last trip before enlistment made this so much MORE for the two of them, and we most definitley saw just how much so at the end of this episode.

But this is also the editors doing, with the company's ok, of course, allowing us to see so much MORE. I do believe, that just like with the hickey finding it's way into memories 2020, this episode, the editing of it, was a conscious decision of both Jikook and the company. Jikook being themselves and allowing us to see more of it. More of them. I can assure you there is much we did not get to see, just like there was much we did not see from the previous trips and episodes, but we were allowed to see MORE in episode 8.

And again, it's not about seeing sus moments, because we definitely got a few of those in this episode. We had some in previous episodes as well.

It's about the MOOD.

it's about the editing allowing for more private moments (emotionally private, couplie private, not necessarily what people love to see or think would be the most suspicious ones, the more obvious ones with sexual innuendos), moments that I am sure happened in the other two destinations as well but were edited out.

But there were still things we weren't allowed to see.

Like when a crying JM goes to wake up JK in the morning.

Too personal. Too emotional. Too private.

Beyond the MORE, it was just TOO MUCH.

And yet we did get Jikook just being themselves and us getting to see it. Jikook just BEING. And it was beautiful. It was emotional. It was intimate. It was so very special.

We got to see them react to the first episode of the show. And although this most definitely wouldn't be the first time we got to see them sit down and watch and react to BTS content, that was always within the context of BTS content and with the other members. I can think of one time we got to see them watching their own interactions during the Black Swan shoot.

But even that had them sitting apart and the whole group present.

This was intimate. Just the two with only a red pillow between them (which I am 100% they put there to remind themselves of where, when and what they are doing). JK holding on to that pillow, to prevent hands from straying? I guess it kept them at bay... at times...

So yes. We see JK and JM (oh boy JM) definitely in the feels. And the different editing. Allowing us to see and feel their intimacy.

And with all that, the whole intimate aura surrounding that whole episode we got some cute and some more obvious moments (those moments you can point your finger at and say "there you go", unlike a feeling you get from just watching the two BEING).

We got so so much in this episode.

We got their usual playful flirting.

One example of many:

I mean, really???

The facial expression while saying it, and the mostly lack of reaction from JM as well. No flinching, no "you shouldn't say stuff like that", nope... just this:

This, to me, is not stressing about JK saying this to him but more about it being said for us to hear.

And I'm sorry, but whichever way you look at it, this is not the reaction you would get from a bro who was just told by his bro to strip.

We got more flirting in the car, at the convenience store, at the accommodations, in the hot tub as well. I will get to it all, don't worry, lol.

We got the touchy.

We also have the full combo of flirty playful and touchy:

We got JM telling us 3 times he was taking and took a boyfriend pic.

We got them calling each other pet names.

We got JM talking about his butt and JK's familiarity with it...

We got JK showing off his BF privileges.

youtube

We got JK trying to uplift JM's mood.

youtube

We got JK telling us all these trips with JM have been the best of his life,

and:

We got JK totally lost, gazing all stary eyed at JM.

Fuck, that was so beautiful!!

I want to go back a second to the clip I shared - what the absolute perfect ending to an absolutely wonderful show. And that little surprise at the end.

Even watching it again now I'm balling my eyes out.

JM rubbing his shaved head... I can't...

😭😭

The one thing that gives me strength is knowing that they are there TOGETHER!!!

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM #Are you sure? Jikook #Are you sure? Sapporo

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highhhfiveee · 1 year ago

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mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike! i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader) all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #fnaf fic

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romchat · 6 months ago

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The Double (Ep. 26): A place to rest your head

"Everywhere else is not comfortable, but the place you picked sure is not bad."

Can we just take a moment to gush about THIS scene?

There's so much going on here and it's equal parts delicious and beautiful. Look, the writers and director of The Double don't always get it right, but when they do? Perfection. Fangfei and the Duke might now be one of my fave OTPs ever.

I've said this before but one of my favorite elements of The Double's storytelling is its use of extended metaphor, particularly its use of theater to represent Duke Su's character. Not only does he put on a good show but he also appreciates one. And Fangfei looks like a piece of art he can't help but admire.

Look at how lovingly the camera glides over her to represent his gaze. He could stare at her for hours and never grow bored. It's sexy but also incredibly intimate, especially since there's nothing really else in the frame but their faces. Both might say they lack a home, but it seems like they've been able to carve out a space for only the two of them just fine.

(See all those window and doorway frames within frames--they’re like a cocoon, protecting them from the outside world.)

But unlike Rapist Zhou, Duke Su doesn't want to conquer and possess Fangfei like an object, and you can immediately see him repressing the rage he feels at seeing her bruises in the close-up edit that lasts a beat too long.

It ties back to their earlier conversation about her wanting to switch roles with him and be the player instead of a pawn. He doesn't balk or make fun of her desire to see the world from a more powerful vantage point and instead clarifies whether she'd like him to be her pawn as well.

The fact that he knows what she has suffered at the hands of her ex husband and Rapist Zhou but only asks about what would make her feel empowered? Telling you, the man is trauma-informed. He knows when to ask questions and when to shut up.

And this close-up shot after the camera slowly pans from her bruised wrist to her gently smiling face? This shot made my heart twinge.

That Fangfei felt comfortable enough to come to his home and even rest in his private quarters after almost being assaulted is so incredibly telling. She knows he's gazing at her bruises and she smiles at him because she trusts that he'd never do the same.

I love that his presence gives her space to heal. It's such a marked difference from when they first met in that room.

SIDE NOTE: Whenever she gets to use that fan on him, I will go freaking feral.

Give me what I want, show.

#the double #墨雨云间 #cdrama #meta #wu jinyan #wang xingyue #cinematography

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hugshughes · 9 months ago

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Casual J. McCarthy

JJ McCarthy x fem!reader

synopsis - Although your relationship with JJ has always been categorized as no strings attached, the way he makes you feel is anything but casual.

wc - 4.6k

contains - she's angsty :( takes place in a universe where JJ and Katya broke up during like spring 2023!!! friends with benefits but more!!! "casual" relationship that acts like more, cursing, kissing, making out, reader's not great family life is mentioned once or twice, sex references (no elicit smut!), caught feelings, arguing, misunderstanding, shouting, eating, crying, hurt with comfort??? i think that's it!!! lmk!

an - wowwwwww this oneeeee. this took me so long to write like SO FUCKING LONG. started it, got sick, got better, wrote some more, got sick again, got better, THEN FINALLY FINISHED! ummmm idk... OH! i was surprised with tickets to Olivia Rodrigo and flew out to her Charlotte show A WEEK AFTER I COME BACK FROM THERE FOR SPRING BREAK to go with my favorite person ever! and Chappell Roan is her opener currently and SHE PLAYED CASUAL AND I CRIED.

my friends call me a loser, 'cause i'm still hanging around.

You often got shit from your friends over your relationship with JJ McCarthy. If you could even truly call it a relationship. The two of you had gotten "together" around the beginning of the school year. He'd followed you on Instagram after meeting at a party. How romantic?

He and his long term girlfriend, Katya had broken up about 6 months prior and the boy was not ready for another true commitment of any kind. You'd also gotten dumped by your boyfriend of over two years over the summer, so honestly neither were you.

You two were strictly casual. Just two not quite friends but also definitely not dating kids who made out and fucked, but also cuddled and kissed each other with no sinful intentions. He took you on dates but God forbid you call him your boyfriend.

i've heard so many rumors, that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch.

You knew people talked about you two. Girls at parties and in random classes in hushed conversations while they glared into the back of your skulls.

"No, she's not like his girlfriend. She's like his no strings attached side piece or something."

Your eye twitched when you heard it whispered all too loudly behind you in a marketing class. You sighed and shrunk into your chair, reminding yourself that you were gonna private your Instagram.

JJ treated you like his girlfriend, point-blank. It wasn't even like a switch from in private to in public. He always did. But nevertheless he always said that it was all informal. There had been many nights where you stayed up questioning it all. Was you falling sleep on his chest while he played with your hair and kissed your head just another Saturday night for him?

i thought you thought of me better. someone you couldn't lose.

JJ made you feel special, like you were special to him. Special was something you didn't feel often, not after how your ex treated you. You were lucky to even get the bare minimum from him, yet you stayed because he made you believe that was what you deserved.

You and JJ both truly cared about each other. Even though you two were not together, you guys did everything two people that were together did. You went on dates, went together everywhere, cuddled, kissed, had long conversations. It was hard to not imagine how it would feel for him to really be your boyfriend.

You remember the night JJ unknowingly broke your heart. You were at a party, and you'd left to get drinks for the two of you. You were walking back over when you heard one of JJ's friends ask a stupid question.

"Where's your little girlfriend, Jay?"

"Oh, we're not together."

you said "we're not together". so now when we kiss, i have anger issues.

He laughed awkwardly as he said it, rubbing the back of his neck. You turned around and explored the rest of the party for a little while before going back over to JJ. When you returned and stuck a can in his hand, he pulled your arm towards him and kissed you deeply. It was a good kiss, all kisses with JJ were, but it left you hurting.

you said, "baby, no attachment",

It was always the same with JJ. There would be a long while where you and him were in a blissful and amazing haze of acting like a couple without having to be one. Then someone would ruin everything by asking if you were together, causing you two to realize you acted too much like a couple.

You and JJ trusted each other entirely. You'd seen every inch of each other. Helped each other through the bad days, all of it. You'd held him in your arms while he cried over the pressure he felt because of football. You cheered him on at every game. You spent countless nights in each other's beds. He listened while you talked for hours about problems with your family.

but we're... knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out.

You'd done stuff with JJ you'd never have the heart to repeat to anyone. You got closer to each other than you'd ever been with anyone else, and still there was a strict separation between you.

Your head often drifted to one of the many nights you spent in intimacy with JJ. Flashes of you in the backseat of his truck, in his bed, his shower, all of the above. You never let the words JJ said to you while he groaned above you in bed get to your head. You wanted to believe them, but knew you were better off to not. He made you the happiest you'd ever been while also making you completely miserable sometimes.

is it casual now?

Over the winter JJ had even brought you to dinner with his family. You'd met his parents, and his sisters, and they immediately fell in love with you. They assumed you were his girlfriend, though he never actually said that. They were so glad to see their boy so incredibly happy after being in the dumps over Katya all summer.

You remember at that same dinner freezing in your seat when his mom had what she felt was a bright idea.

"Oh, JJ, she should come to the beach this summer!"

You had to awkwardly laugh it off, throwing a joking 'Maybe!' out as his sisters boasted about how that was a great idea. JJ smiled uncouthly, laughing and carelessly nodding his head. You knew that topic would never be brought up, JJ would definitely not be asking you to spend the summer with him.

two weeks and your mom invites me, to her house in Long Beach. is it casual now?

You liked to pretend he was your boyfriend, it wasn't that hard most of the time. You were exclusive with each other, that was made clear at the beginning of your "relationship". JJ said something about how he wasn't the type to see more than one girl, and that you were that girl for him.

You were the one with him when he won the National Championship. He'd invited you to sit with his family. Like, what the fuck? How were you supposed to not be in love with him?

You knew JJ only wanted something casual. You tried not to think about how he was probably just with you to get over his ex. He told you about her, sometimes. He said how he thought he was gonna marry her, but she didn't want that. You couldn't imagine why. JJ was everything you'd ever need in a man. He was stable, and loyal, and made you laugh so hard you cried. He cared for you, no matter the status of your relationship.

i know what you tell your friends. it's casual, if it's casual now. but baby, get me off again. if it's casual, it's casual now.

What you had going on with JJ was great, and you were in no position to ruin it with your stupid feelings. You didn't really care what you were, as long as it was with JJ.

Now you were getting ready to go over to JJ's apartment for the night. He invited you over a couple hours ago, telling you he wanted to watch some movies and hang out with you. Of course you said yes, how could you not? He'd just finished up with the NFL Combine a couple days ago. And spring break had just ended so you hadn't seen him since before then, you were excited.

You adjusted your hair for the fourteenth time before you were satisfied. You would only be going from your place to the car to JJ's apartment. You still wanted him to think you looked good, good enough to be more than just his fling.

You grabbed your small overnight bag filled with the barebones of your necessities and left your apartment, swiftly locking the door behind you.

You listened to low music while you drove lowly through the college town. It was only a seven minute drive, so you got there right away. You parked your car and sat for a second as you were overcome with a random wave of dejection. You took a deep breath, your brain reminding your heart not to get too excited. You shook off the feeling, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat and exiting your car, locking it behind you.

You knocked lightly on the door you'd walked through all too many times. Barely ten seconds passed before the door opened, a bubbly dirty blonde with the cutest smile you'd ever seen standing opposite you. JJ immediately grabbed you by the hips, pulling you to hug him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your head into his shoulder. You let yourself believe all the stupid fantasies for just a second.

dumb love, i love being stupid.

"Missed you, gorgeous."

dream of us in a year.

You shut your eyes, squeezing him. He giggled, turning his head to kiss your neck. You felt his smile against your flushed skin.

"I missed you."

He held you tighter, pulling away to kiss your forehead and grab your hand. He shut the door behind you and pulled you further into his apartment. He led you to his bedroom before dropping your hand, turning to go back to the front of the apartment. You dropped your bag next to his bathroom door before taking your shoes off and tucking them just underneath his bed so they were out of the way.

maybe we'd have an apartment. and you'd show me off to your friends at the pier.

"How're you doin' pretty?"

JJ's voice echoed from the kitchen, you could literally hear his smile.

"'M doin' okay! Nothing new, y'know."

JJ heard something different in your voice. Something other than happiness, which obviously concerned him. You sat back on his bed, sighing.

"What's wrong? Sure you're good?"

"Yeah, it's fine! Some shit happened over spring break so I've just been a little out of it is all. Don't worry!"

The blonde came through the doorway again, this time holding a plastic bag with a logo you knew all too well. You gave him a smile that didn't aid his now worried mind.

"What happened? You could've called me."

"Oh come on, Jay. You were literally at the NFL Combine. I was not about to distract you with my stupid problems."

It's not like I'm your girlfriend. JJ shook his head as he sat the bag next to you, turning to open his closet door and rummage through his clothes.

"You can always call me. I wanna hear about all of your problems. You're my best friend, y'know."

i know, "baby, no attachment." but we're...

You winced, fuck. The man you were certain you were in love with just 100% friend zoned you. Just his best friend that he kissed, laid skin to skin with, told his family about.

knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out.

"I know! But still, you're Mr. National Champion and I'm not gonna bother you with dumb things."

"You're never bothering me. You don't bother me."

He came out of his closet, now shirtless and in new sweatpants. His eyes found yours and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to agree with him.

"Okay, okay, whatever. Come eat."

He climbed over you onto "his" side of his bed. You ate while asking him about the combine, as if you hadn't watched the videos of JJ's performance. You definitely appreciated how he looked in his tight red shirt.

"It was fun, nerve wracking as hell though. Kinda like made me realize that like I actually am going to the NFL. It's a lot closer than it feels."

He could say that again. You knew your time with JJ was coming to its end. Whenever he got drafted to an NFL team he wasn't gonna keep wanting a random girl from his old college. Not one that wasn't actually his girlfriend or anything. He'd find another one very quickly, you knew it.

"That's so scary. I couldn't imagine that. Having so many people depend on you for their happiness is too much. But you're good at it."

He threw you a smile, moving closer to you.

"I just love it. It's so fun for me. Obviously not like losing but having so much support is actually really nice sometimes."

You nodded, trying to fathom how it was possible for the boy to be so positive always. You both were done eating so JJ took all of your trash and threw everything into the garbage. When he came back he pulled you closer to him, your head on his shoulder and your back to his chest.

"But enough about football. How was spring break? D'you have fun?"

"Um, yeah! For the most part it was really fun. Florida was fun but when I went home for the last three days it was honestly the worst. My mom was so mean for no reason the whole time, I don't know."

He ran his hands over the tops of your thighs before wrapping his arms around your hips. He kissed the side of your head sweetly, not moving as he spoke into your hair.

"'M sorry baby. Y'don't deserve that."

"Eh it's whatever. I'm used to her not being my biggest fan at this point."

JJ felt so bad. He couldn't relate to you on this level. He'd never know what it feels like to not have good parents.

"Well if it helps any, my mom's your biggest fan, to be completely honest. She keeps texting me to make sure you know you're invited to the beach this summer."

two weeks and your mom invites me, to her house in Long Beach.

It comforted and hurt you all the same. There's no way you could accept that invitation, no matter how sweet it was. You couldn't survive a week with his family while still only being casual. No way in hell.

"That's really sweet, Jay."

You shifted in his arms, turning so your cheek laid against his bare chest. You smiled and lightly kissed his pec.

is it casual now?

"So, what are we watching, Jay?"

"Whatever you want."

It was just another small thing that made you fall harder for him. You didn't know how much longer you could pretend like you didn't want him more than physically.

"How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days?"

"Are you plotting or somethin'?"

You can't lose something that isn't yours. Your smile faltered but you let out a forced giggle, telling JJ to just play the movie. You watched the majority of the movie in silence, answering JJ's questions whenever he had them. At some point the movie got boring, you'd seen it a million times before. You started running your nails over JJ's pec, unknowingly distracting him. He traced his hand up your back and to your hand on his chest, interlocking his with yours.

i know what you tell your friends. it's casual, if it's casual now.

You leaned away from him just a bit to look him in the eyes. You stared at each other for just a few seconds, just until JJ took his hand out of yours, grabbing ahold of your jaw. The thoughts filling your mind seemed to quiet down as JJ kissed you. The kiss quickly grew hot as JJ's hands traveled back down your body. Your tongue hit the seam of his lips, a downright immoral sound leaving his mouth.

You shifted onto your knees over JJ, the connection between you persistent. Your hands ran through his hair, tugging slightly at the dirty blonde locks.

but baby, get me off again. if it's casual, oh, oh, oh.

Your chest pressed against his as he pulled you closer, leaving no space between you. Every move of JJ's mouth and hands cushioned your spiraling thoughts, muting them. Your could focus your thinking on nothing but the physicality of the situation. Until JJ shifted his hands to the curve of your ass and gentley moved so your back was flush with his comforter, the quarterback kneeling over you. It was the position change as much as what he groaned out when your lips parted for just a moment that had you stopping in your tracks.

"Fuck, my girl."

His girl. His girl? How could you be his girl? You didn't mean to hesitate in your kiss with JJ but you did, pausing for just a second. Though it was long enough for JJ to notice and immediately grow concerned. He pulled back from you, his eyes full of worry. Did you not want this?

"Hey, what's wrong? We don't have to do anything, you know that. Right? Sorry I got carried away, baby."

He comforted you immediately, like a man who loved you would. Not like a no strings attached fuck friend would. It soothed you but also made you ache even more. Why did he have to act like he cared? It wasn't fair.

"No, Jay. Sorry, it's fine. I just,"

You trailed off, wanting to hide from his concerned blue eyes. You kind of wished he'd get pissed off that you were hesitant, asking 'The fuck is wrong with you?' instead of being the most gentle and loving person you'd ever known.

"Hey, it's more than okay. Alright? Is something else wrong?"

Yes. Something else was wrong. You're in love with JJ but he's unattainable. You wondered if he knew, if he knew and was still treating you the same just to keep you loyal. Your silence proved JJ right, something was seriously wrong.

"Talk to me, okay? I wanna make you feel better."

You finally looked into his eyes. He was now next to you, laying on his side, confused and concerned.

This is where it ends, you told yourself. There really wasn't a way around telling him, and all you could do was imagine his reaction. You sat up, crossing your legs and looking down at your hands. How the fuck were you supposed to start this? Do you just break it off with no explanation, or let him do it after you tell him you're in love?

"Well I just, I don't know if I can do this anymore, JJ. And I'm sorry, I really-"

"What? That's really not what I thought this was about."

He was shocked, his chest tightened as he leaned away from you, moving off the bed to stand. He crossed his arms over his chest for some comfort.

it's hard being casual, when my favorite bra lives in your dresser.

"JJ, I'm sorry, really. I just, we're supposed to be strictly casual and it's honestly kinda hard when we're so close to each other. Like a quarter of my clothes are in your closet! It's just kind of a lot."

You too stood from his bed, now standing on opposite sides. You didn't want to hurt JJ, but it would only hurt you worse and worse in the end if you kept letting yourself indulge in him.

"Baby, what changed? I thought everything was fine the way it was."

it's hard being casual, when i'm on the phone talking down your sister.

"Jayj, it's just kind of a lot of pressure. Like, we FaceTime your sister when we hang out! Your mom invited me to your summer vacation! Like how is that casual?"

JJ stood there, astounded. He was shocked you felt this way. He thought everything was better than okay. He would've never guessed it all felt too relationship-y for you.

"So, what? Are you like breaking up with me, or?"

"That's exactly my point, JJ! What do you mean by breaking up? There's nothing solid in between us! Our quote unquote label is 'friends that fuck but also sometimes just lay skin to skin and talk for hours on end'. That's fucking confusing JJ! I don't get you!"

and i try to be the chill girl, that holds her tongue and gives you space. i try to be the chill girl but, honestly, i'm not.

Your volume rose as felt tears pricking behind your waterline. You brought your hands to your eyes, rubbing aggressively with the heel of your palms. JJ was so hurt. He didn't think of you as just something casual, not since the very beginning had he thought you two were just random and informal. He knew you two weren't a couple, but he didn't think of you as anything near just his fuck buddy. Watching you, obviously distraught, almost crying in his bedroom over him being too much of a boyfriend had JJ rethinking himself.

"Am I too much? I thought we were more than that to you. I thought I was more than that."

"You are! You are and it's ruining my fucking life!"

knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out. two weeks and your mom invites me, to her long beach house. i know what you tell your friends. baby, get me off again.

You shouted, tears starting to fall down your face. You tried to wipe them away as you hiccuped, cutting JJ off before he could respond.

"You tell me all you want is something casual so that's what I give you! I was there when you needed it, I left you alone otherwise. But then you just didn't let me go! You make me feel important! And like I'm special to you, then I hear you tell your friends we're nothing serious! I met your family, I went to your championship game and sat with them! Do you know how fucked that is? To tell a girl that is obviously invested in you that she means something to you then doing that! I just- I really wanted you to like me, for real. And you act like you do! But I know you don't really care about what we are. I can't pretend to not like you more than that, JJ. It's not fair anymore."

i fucked you in the bathroom, when we went to dinner.

Holy shit. You'd just practically told JJ you were in love with him. He was even more confused now, was this a joke?

your parents at the table, you wonder why i'm bitter?

"What are you talking about? This hasn't been casual to me since fucking October! I do this shit because I like you! Like, I really like you! You know, before I got broken up with in February last year, I thought I was ready to fuckin' marry her. And then seven months later you come into my life, and you're supposed to be this girl that I'm not really committed to, and that distracts me from how hurt I am. But, I'm more in love with you than I ever was with her! And I thought I would spend my entire fuckin' life with her! Do you know how scary that is? That someone I've known for barely seven months is making me feel more than the girl I dated for years! I'm terrified, it fucking sucks!"

bragging to your friends, i get off when you hit it. i hate to tell the truth, but i'm sorry dude you didn't.

Your mouth fell open, pupils constricting under the haze of tears. JJ just told you he was more in love with you than the girl he thought was gonna be his wife. His tears were flowing by the end of his emotional outburst. He buried his head in his hands, turning away from you.

You couldn't believe what you'd heard. The boy you were convinced didn't want you enough to really have you had just poured his entire heart out over how much he loved you. You were in love just as hard.

You moved slowly around his bed, watching for signs of him shifting again. You gently grabbed his wrists, urging his hands from his face. You jumped to throw your arms around his neck, wrapping him in a hug. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, he cried into your shoulder.

i hate that i let this drag on so long. now, i hate myself.

"I'm sorry."

"'M so sorry."

You both let out your apologies at the same time, causing JJ to let out a wet giggle into the crook of your neck.

"I just love you so much."

Your heart squeezed as JJ spoke into your shoulder, teary and sweet. You loved him just as much. You couldn't believe what was happening.

"I've been in love with you since you took me to the lake."

You whispered it slowly, muffled by his shoulder. On that chilly day in November JJ had driven you guys an hour or so to the coast of the nearest Great Lake, Lake Erie. You ate of the sandy shore and watched the water. It was one of the first times you two were together where it really felt like you were boyfriend and girlfriend.

You'd realized he was the sweet and caring one you'd been waiting for for so long. And it ruined you.

JJ squeezed you tighter. A little sob mixed with a giggle shaking through him. He sniffed, kissing your neck gently.

"I didn't wanna believe I was in love with you, as obvious as it was. I was scared of really being in love after what had happened before. You were just so amazing, and kind, and you listened to me. I've been trying to push it away 'cause I didn't think it was how you felt. Which I can't believe you didn't just tell me, by the way."

You giggled now, pulling away from his shoulder to look at him, jaw dropping.

"Alright, Mr. I don't really need anything serious right now I'm still hurt over my ex. Yeah, sorry I never told you I was in love."

JJ just kissed you, and it felt so incredibly right. Kissing the boy you loved, in his bedroom, where half of your clothes lived. The boy who's whole family, including him, loved you and thought you were perfect for him. You smiled against his lips, you just couldn't help it.

"Can't believe you went from friend zoning me to telling me you loved me in two hours."

JJ pulled away from you abruptly, confusion filling his face.

"When did I friend zone you? I didn't do that!"

"'You can always call me. I wanna hear about all of your problems. You're my best friend, y'know.' It wasn't very soothing to a girl who was actively debating telling you she was in love with you."

"Well you are my best friend! But also the girl I want so, two for one."

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully as you pulled him by his neck to kiss you. You both couldn't help it as you smirked and giggled into your kiss, hands and minds wandering.

JJ pulled back from you for just a second, causing you to groan.

"Can I be your boyfriend?"

Your annoyance was quickly replaced, your eyes widening. You just smiled and nodded pulling him back in.

"Duh."

Your boyfriend squeezed your ass at your playful response, kissing you deeper. Your head was spinning, JJ was finally yours, for real. You were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend. And one day, you'd walk down the aisle with him waiting at the altar, not that either of you knew that now. So much for keeping your relationship casual?

i hate that i let this drag on so long. you can go to hell.

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according2thelore · 2 months ago

Note

Do you have any spn omegaverse fic recs?

oh boy, do i!

this is a pretty exhaustive list of omegaverse, with varied designations and (less varied) ratings. this is in no particular order (and not a list of every fic i've ever read and enjoyed), either, just some fics i've collected over the years.

please note that some of these are underage (as they are teenchester fics and the like), and some deal with sensitive topics so please be diligent about checking the notes/tags!

samdean:

alpha4alpha Series by HandsAcrossTheSea & trashhearts67

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & A!Sam] The most forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Dean wants a taste of Sam. Two alphas shouldn't want each other. But when has Dean ever had any use for what should be?

The Bite of Knowledge by theproblematique [rec note: THEE omegaverse fic imo]

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam] Omegas can tell when alphas are attracted to them. It's a survival mechanism. After years of buildup, Dean finally realizes that Sam is attracted to him. It's a shitshow.

Only Real When I'm With You by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam At sixteen Dean was exceptionally pretty. Even for an omega. Fair hair, pale skin, big green eyes and wholesome freckles. And he was a virgin. The training officers, always smirking, said that was a good thing. Told him that was why his pathetic omega life was valuable enough to pay off all his father’s debts.

Gunpowder & Honeysuckle by hereforsammy [private}

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam One would think it would be enough; All of those bits and pieces that made up the large jigsaw puzzle of their lives, smashed in the back of an old black car tearing down highways in backwater towns, and nights spent in stale motel rooms with cigarette holes burned into every surface, to let Dean know the glaringly obvious thing he had been both running to, and avoiding, was staring him in the face all along. Heated neon in the pitch black sky over shabby dives of no name towns, that painted themselves on the backs of your eyelids even when you blinked. His baby boy smelled sweet.

Three Weeks Too Late (the 'Five Weeks' remix) by rei_c

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean swallows at the thought of that: Sam's home, his soon-to-be omega's scent everywhere, on everything. Sam wants to take Dean back to his den. "Okay," he says. "Your place. But not -- it has to be now, Sam. I can't wait much longer." "Yeah," Sam says. "Yeah, it's been five weeks since your birthday." (aka, the one where Dean finally claims his omega.)

The Hottest Days by WevyrDove [rec note: a classic; w this and the bite of knowledge, i think one of my first wincest fics, lol]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam John is away on a hunting trip when Sam experiences his first heat cycle. Dean panics and makes Sam lock himself up in his room in a desperate attempt to keep temptation at bay.

5th Period by alwaysthrowsscissors [rec note: also a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam Without hesitation, Dean dropped to his knees, burying his face in the wet seat of Sam’s jeans, teasing out the cutest little whimper. “Am I- God, am I...” He trembled, voice soft. “Yeah,” Dean groaned, muffled, nuzzling against the rough fabric. His fucking greatest dream came true. Precious, beautiful Sammy; an omega. Dean always knew that whatever Sam presents as doesn't matter; he's going to fuck Sam hard and claim him either way. But, Dean never imagined that all eyes at school would be on his little brother, waiting to see what he will become and who will get to claim him as their mate. Sam goes into his first heat in the middle of class.

Sam's Inner Omega by TammyRenH

RATING: Unrated, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Another spn_kink meme fill (just trying to un-rust my writing skills - such as they are) For the prompt: There are two sides to every Omega; the side that wants to be cuddled and pampered. And the side that wants to be pinned down and fucked roughly like a bitch in heat. Up to you who tops and who bottoms. I’m good with any kinks as long as all aspects of the fic are consensual. Please and thank you!

Taste Every Fruit by thatsakitkat [rec note: aka the lactation fic, a fandom classic fr]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean&A!Sam There's no real words to describe how feeding Sam feels. Dean thinks it might be better than orgasms, but it's a whole different kind of pleasure, one that makes him feel sleepy and proud of himself for being able to take care of his brother this way. Everything feels right in the world, all Dean's problems taken away in the gentle pulls of Sam's mouth.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Prompt: sam is an omega. or, he was. before puberty really hits, john puts him on suppressants/has him surgically altered so he doesn’t attract aggressive alphas/is put in less danger/makes their lifestyle easier. sam’s too young to really consent. his feelings of being a “freak” stem from not feeling right in his own body. this is why sam is abnormally large for an omega, this is where a lot of his self loathing stems from. dean didn’t know before and carries guilt for not stopping it. doesn’t know how to make it better, tries anything he can, which in dean’s world is a lot of pretending it didn’t happen out loud. sam gets by until he starts getting closer to 40 and it starts to get to him more than it used to. amara either gives dean THAT gift instead of bringing mary back, or rowena finds out and gives sam the spell to fix what happened to him at his choice. sam doesn’t tell dean about the change, but he can scent it. it’s obvious sam feels more comfortable in his skin again. suddenly sam smells like his dream partner. cue him dealing with that, dunno if he tells him or acts differently or what. basically it comes out that sam has always scented dean that way and then happy parts ensue.

Hymenated - Demon by forlovedones

RATING: E, Warnings: Chose Not to List, O!Dean&A!Sam Demon Dean is loose in the bunker and stalking his Alpha through the halls. Maybe there'd be time to fuck Sam's brains out first, before he bashed them in with the hammer.

Unexpected by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: M, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Sam always wanted children, but he’s been infertile all his life. Two months after Chuck’s defeated, the stick turns blue. Dean’s protective instincts go into overdrive.

It's Yours, My Demon by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Could I please for fic where Omega Sam found out a couple a days before the last episode that he is pregnant with Dean's child, but now his alpha is a demon and Sam is doesn't know what to do, but the demon!Dean finds out ... (knotting, bottom!Sam, happy ending)?

To Give You What You Want by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Post 9 season AU where alpha Dean isn't a demon and brothers lives together as mates (alpha and omega). They are happy but both really wants to have a baby and during Sam's a few day heat Dean going to finally breed his omega (knotting, mpreg) Summary: Sam and Dean were content, but they really wanted something more. They wanted a child. So Dean knew he was going to try everything to breed his omega and give them what they wanted.

And nothing else matters by waywardelle

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean inexplicably pushes Sam away when their mother returns to their lives. After she leaves, Dean stays away anyway. Sam wants to kill Dean for ignoring the fact that they're fuckin' mated, but the omega in him tells him to be patient. So, he waits. And he misses his Alpha like crazy.

All in the Timing by C_aura

RATING: E, Warnings: Dub-Con, A!Dean & O!Sam Sam hasn’t had a heat in ten years. Dean may not be his mate, but he’s past waiting patiently and decides it’s time to take a more hands-on approach.

Happy Birthday to Me! by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Dean wants to be an omega, and he wants Sam to be the one to turn him. Sam doesn’t stand a chance.

A new Life by KillerOfHope

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Prompt Fill for SPN Kinkmeme: AU for S10E12 - "About a boy" The witch wasn't just deaging adults, she had them turned into Omegas as well, since she preferred the taste of fresh young Omegas. The cake she and Hansel fed their victims was spiked with magically enhanced Alpha sperm to ensure a quick turn. So when Dean showed up at their motelroom, Sam wasn't just faced with a teen version of his brother, but with a newly presented Omega.

and it's you that i want by according2thelore [rec note: i'm not above a self rec, lol!]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam "You know that’s not what I meant.” Mr. Smith says into the phone, and he sounds exhausted. Sam doesn’t turn around, trying to give him as much privacy as possible, even if it’s imagined. Sam throws his whole body weight into his next pull of the handle, feeling the budding sweat from earlier as a full-body wave, pricking at his neck and armpits and forehead. Nothing. The door doesn’t budge. Sam’s trapped. Or: Sam Wesson gets stuck in a supply closet with his boss, who's hiding out to fight with his girlfriend. Sensing the available omega that Sam's been into for months, Sam goes into an early rut.

since you said "spn" and not specifically wincest, i also have a handful of J2 fics here. i don't even think i really ship J2, but while going through these i realized i have...uh...quite a lot lol...

J2:

for a good cause by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen covers for a teammate in the kissing booth of a local charity event. It’s for a good cause, after all, and only for an hour. What can possibly go wrong?

Neighborhood Love by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen might be an omega, but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to say yes to any alpha who comes along. His parents think he has impossible standards, his friends think he’s a grumpy bastard. There’s probably some truth to all of that, but there’s also the fact that Jared, a really cute and really tall alpha just moved in next door and Jensen has a crush. Thankfully, as it turns out, so does Jared.

Perfect Disaster by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Jared never banked on the perfect romantic moment of meeting his mate, but having him come into the ER as a patient is ridiculous. Even after Jensen is recovered, life keeps getting in the way of them properly consummating their mating, until Jensen has enough of the interruptions and whisks Jared away for a weekend getaway.

Crazy About You (Two) by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared One of the many things that attracted Jared to Jensen when they first met was that Jensen was such a laid-back alpha. He never did any of the dumb alpha posturing, wasn’t possessive or jealous. But recently—recently things had taken a turn. And Jared doesn’t mind the frequent and quite frankly amazing sex they’re having, but when Jensen becomes possessive, quite literally refuses to let him leave the bed, Jared realizes that something’s different. And he does not like it—until he figures out why Jensen’s so possessive all of a sudden.

Better Late Than Never (I Guess) by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Could I ask for fic where alpha Jensen taking care of Jared during his heat (knotting, marathon sex), please? Summary: Jensen's lived next to Jared for five years and he has no idea how to tell the omega he loves him.

Patience Is Not a Virtue by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Jensen & O!Jared J1 and J2 recently got mated. J1 is older and wanted to wait for J2's first heat to have sex. J2 doesn't really appreciate it because he's been crushing hard on J2. So while J1 tries to make their first time gentle and sweet, J2 just wants to get his dick already.

Taste Like Sugar by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Speaking of series, could you do one where omega!jared is a very tiny wolf and alpha!Jensen, who's large for a wolf, if very protective over him?

Mistaken Identity by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Jared is an unmated omega because of his size most alphas find him intimidating. Or confuse him for a beta. Of course this makes him have insecurities so he starts hiding his omega status. He meets Jensen and of course Jensen is all over him and wants to mate him but Jared thinks he's playing because he's been hurt in the past before. Sorry if it's too long. True mating welcome go free with it. I'm always interested how you put your twists. Thank you.

World Goes 'Round by Misunderstanding by queerly_it_is [rec note: a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warning: Underage, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen and Jared love each other, but neither of them knows that. Jensen goes into heat and seeks out Jared, who gives in to what’s he’s ashamed of wanting. Jared calls Jensen’s parents who make a deal with Jared that they don’t see fit to inform Jensen of, and matters only get worse when Jensen finds out he’s pregnant and runs away from home to keep his baby.

thanks for this ask, anon! i hope you enjoy reading through these! :)

-lizzy

#ask box #lizzy answers #fic rec #fic recs #fic rec list #omegaverse

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angelswing236 · 1 month ago

Text

"Let's try this."

Fictober 24 challenge

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Fanfiction

‘Nanny Archer, you said there’s a problem with Master George,’ Thomas said, trying to keep his worry under control. The maid the nanny had sent to find him hadn’t been able to fill in any of the blanks.

‘Oh, Mr Barrow, thank goodness. I didn’t want to send for Lady Mary or Mr Branson. Not without trying everything first. You were the only person I could think of who might be able to help,’ the nanny said, clearly more exasperated than worried.

‘Help with what?’ Thomas scanned the room anxiously seeing no sign of the boy. ‘Where is Master George?’

‘He’s under his bed.’

Thomas did a double take, not quite sure he’d heard her right. ‘Under his bed?’

‘The little scamp won’t come out,’ Nanny Archer said, irritably. ‘I’ve tried everything I can think of, but he simply refuses to budge. He hasn’t even come out for his lunch.’

‘Do you know why he’s under there?’ Thomas asked, pursing his lips.

‘I've no idea.’

‘Right. Let’s try this,’ Thomas said, swiping the apple sitting on the table with Master George’s untouched lunch.

Wandering over to the child’s bed, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He pulled his penknife from his pocket and began to peel the apple.

‘Hello, Master George. It’s Barrow,’ he said, concentrating on peeling the skin in one long, curly strip.

There was silence for a moment and then a small voice replied, ‘Hello, Barrow.’

‘How are things? Nanny says you’ve been under that bed for a while. Are you quite comfy there?’

‘No. It’s made me sneeze a bit.’

‘Dusty, is it? I’ll have to tell Mrs Hughes to tell the maids to give it a good, old clean. A man can’t have a dusty den, can he?’

There was silence again, so Thomas finished peeling the apple, coiling the long strip onto the floor beside him.

‘You’ve missed lunch. You must be hungry. Would you like to share my apple?’

‘Yes, please.’

Thomas sliced off a piece of apple and held it out towards the bed. A little hand snaked out from underneath it and took the slice, disappearing back into the dark.

Slicing another piece, Thomas popped it into his mouth. ‘Oh, that’s a nice apple, isn’t it? Nice and juicy. I like them like that, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you like another slice?’

‘Yes, please.’

Thomas held out a second slice, pleased to see the little hand flash out and take it again.

‘Now, I’m all for a man having his own private space where he can think about things, Master George, but if you don’t mind me asking, what made you retreat to your den?’

For a moment, the boy said nothing, and Thomas began to wonder if he’d overplayed his hand. Resisting the urge to fill the silence, he cut another piece of apple and held it out.

George took the slice and then said in a quiet voice, ‘Donk said Isis has gone to heaven, so I won’t ever see her again.’

Thomas pressed his lips together. Now they were getting to the heart of it. ‘Yes, that’s right. She has gone to heaven.’

‘Why? Why couldn’t she stay here?’

‘She was very poorly, Master George. I expect she didn’t want to leave you, but sometimes it can’t be helped.’

Silence reigned again and Thomas held out another slice of apple. George took it and munched it before speaking again.

‘Mummy says Daddy is in heaven.’

Thomas paused for a moment in slicing the apple, his heart going out to the boy. ‘Yes, he is.’

‘And Sybbie’s mummy is in heaven, too.’

Sorrow twisted in Thomas’ gut for a moment. ‘Yes, Lady Sybil is there, too.’

‘So, they’re all there together?’

‘Yes. I expect your daddy and your Auntie Sybil are taking Isis for a good, long walk, just the kind she likes.’

‘But if they’re all there together, can’t we go and visit them?’ the child asked, plaintively. ‘Like we go and visit Granny Isobel?’

Thomas thought for a moment, slowly cutting another slice of apple and handing it over.

‘You can’t visit them, Master George. Heaven is a lovely place, but you can only go there once and then when you get there, you can’t come back.’

‘Why not? Aren’t there any cars in heaven?’

‘No, there aren’t.’

‘That’s why I’ve never met my daddy? Because I wouldn’t be able to come back home?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said, gently.

‘I don’t think I’d like not being able to come home.’

‘No.’

‘Is anybody else going to go to heaven, Barrow?’

‘We’ll all go at some point, Master George, but not for a long while, I hope,’ Thomas replied, hoping that would be enough for the boy.

‘Hmm.’

All was quiet as George considered that.

‘May I have another slice of apple, please, Barrow?’

‘Of course, you can. Although, between us, Mrs Patmore has an apple cake downstairs that’s even tastier. That’s if you’re ready to come out of your den.’

‘Apple cake?’

‘It looks delicious.’

George scrambled out from underneath the bed, blinking in the light. ‘Do you think she’ll let me have a slice?’

‘I think if I have a word with her, she will.’

The child grinned as Thomas stood up.

‘Master George and I are going to the kitchen on important business, Nanny,’ Thomas announced, the boy’s hand tucked in his.

#fictober24 #thomas barrow #george crawley #fanfiction

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onepiece-asl-lover · 6 months ago

Note

Idk if your requests are open if not respond to the Privately but So idk if you actually feel comfortable writing for Luffy I am looki for one piece x reader writers who have the requests open and came across you anyway I request takes place after the time skip where reading I ask Luffy if next year they can celebrate Ace with Luffy aka next year on the day of his death instead of feeling sad they want me make sure Luffy is happy so they will spend the entire day doing things would love like eating us favorite foods and doing things he would love

I'm totally fine writing this! I'll try the best of my abilities to write what you requested. If you dont like it I can make another. Also I'll make it a Luffyxreader thing

First ever ask!!!!

"Changing a tragic into comfort" Luffy x Fm!reader

You knew this day exact day your lover Luffy brother died. It had traumatized him so much that on the next year he sat in his room and barely ate, concerning you and the straw hats.

This year was the day that Ace died and when you woke up to hopefully to find Luffy next to you, you find him at your desk his hat covering his face and when you realized it he was asleep as you brought a blanket and tucked him gently.

Your head was clouded as you went onto deck watching over the railing the ocean. How couldn't you helped your lover the time he needed it the most. Were you just a bad lover and spouse.

You didn't keep track of time that Sanji called for dinner and Nami had to call you over. You could tell everyone was quiet today aswell. The death of the Fire Fist Ace and the traumatic Luffy had effect them as you guys all ate silently.

You step slowly as an idea clicked into your mind. Why don't you guys make him a small party a supporting comfort party with his favourite food items. It was the best idea you ever thought of till now as you spoke up from the quiet dinner hall.

"Please excuse me but I have an idea on how we can help Luffy." You said as you wiped your hands with a towel.

"Help Luffy?" Chopper asked as his little hands ate a loli Robin gave him.

"How can we help Luffy, we can't just being Ace back" Zoro said as he kept eating he wasn't wrong so Nami didn't hit him.

"I've heard of these things for people who have went through a traumatic event and losing sombody, it's called a..-" you tried to remember the title of this party.

"An offer party, where people who have gone through grieving often remember that it is the person who offered reassuring hope, the certainty that things will get better, who helped them make the gradual passage from pain to a renewed sense of life." Robin offered as you nooded.

Everyone seemed to listen up as you continued talking of a party and probably it might be f everyone in the crew. You know everyone in the crew as lost a loved one from a trainer to a father figure ect.

"I hope we could make a kind of party self care I believe where we get our favorite food, items, games, drinks ect and get comfort from each other."

"..." it was silent in the room it made you sweat thinking of their opinion and thoughts about this party thing.

"Y/n your idea is....SUUUUUUUPERRR" Franky says as he does his iconic pose."also can we have cola and bugers there too" he adds as you all laugh.

"And cottoncandy!" Chopper says as he jumps off Robin laps.

"The great captain Usopp declares he will want a grilled fish!"

"Yohohohoho! I would be delightful to have some curry aswell too!"

"I can pick Mikans from my garden!"

"I would enjoy sandwhiches"

"Onigiris"

"Mozuku seaweed"

"Guess I should get onto cooking then if I'll have to make all this food" Sanji chuckles a he goes to start cooking.

The dining room was as loud as it usually was which is more comforting then that dead silence a few minutes ago.

Nami ordered around for decorations. Zoro messed up. Usopp getting some of his fairytails books. Brook being out his guitar and getting it ready to place with. Franky using his robot skills and Jinbei helping Nami with decor. Chopper grabs some small royes he holds in his bag to show. Robin using her devil fruit to help around.

You smiled as you saw everyone getting ready as it remind you, you had to get Luffy as you trolled into his room.

"Luffy?" You said as you peeked your head through the door.

You see him staring at the window as you went next to him.

"Everything's alright?" You asked as you rubbed his head.

"..."

You sighed as you kept looking at him and brushing away fallen tears of his and plopped his strawhat back on.

"You know Ace wouldn't want you crying over him, he called you a crybaby when we were younger remember? He wound want you to accomplish your dreams to be the pirate king not let an incident stop you" you say as you rubbed his head.

You hear him sniffle as he wobbly answers.

"You’re ri-right I should keep going no m-mattered what. Fo-far Ace"

"Yes, yes for Ace" you said as you slowly hugged him.

".....now how about we head outside? I think everyone wants you back as a captain? A crew can’t be a crew without a captain."

"Okay." Luffy said as he stood up as you stood up aswell grabbing a handkerchief wiping his tears as you lead him outside.

When you lead him outside onto the deck you could see his face light up at the celebrations with tables of food decor and the crew "helping" eachother.

"Luffy!" Chopper squeaked as he ran towards Luffy.

"Hey your back!" Usopp ran towards Luffy as well.

More and more people in the crew went to Luffy talking to him, showing him items they hold dear or giving him food

You could see him smile wide as he went around talking with his crew.

Usopp had a crafting stand and some childhood fairytale books

Choper has some little toys that Robin joined playing with him.

Sanji showed some childhood snacks he would make for his mother.

Nami opened her garden to anyone who could pluck a tangerine which was rare.

Franky shad a show to show off his robot abilities and skill.

Brook played songs for the crew.

Jinbei played around like a father being dragged to every station.

Robin teached some of an old language she used to know.

Zoro slept.

And Luffy laughed as he sprung around and also ate half the food.

You let out a breath as you saw Luffy happy again and enjoying the time with the crew.Everyone seemed so happy and joyous even when something tragic happened that turned into something joyus, and comforting.

Luffy wrapped his rubber arms around you thanking you for helping him and also letting him have party that is for everyone on the crew.

You loved this crew so much you would shake the world for them to be happy.

You couldn't hope for a better crew than this.

Shoutout to petalpetal for being my first ask I hope I did this the way you wanted this I really enjoyed writing this very much!

#one piece #reader x character #one piece luffy #one piece strawhats #straw hat luffy #portgas ace #luffy x reader

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snippychicke · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Week Two-- Garp

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: these poor communication snails. Otherwise just a lot of dirty talk. Nsfw, 18+, just look at the title.

You sat at the library of the marine headquarters, mindlessly reading quite possibly the only piece of fiction in the entire place. The library was calm, quiet, with just a few soldiers as well as cadets milling about, looking through old journals and log books. Pieces of history to help them plan the future.

The quiet was interrupted by a chirping sound. Not the transponder snail on your desk, but the ear-slug in your purse.

Garp.

Your breath caught, he rarely ever reached out on the private line, usually happy using the official lines even if it was just to whine and tell you how bored he was, or how much he missed you. Often to everyone else's annoyance.

You quickly fished the small conch out of your bag as you stood and retreated into your office, sure whatever he was calling for was private. "Garp?"

"Heh. Wasn't sure you'd answer," Came your husband's reply. "You do still keep the little bugger with you."

"Of course I do!" You said, though relief wasn’t instantaneous. You knew Garp, he'd chit chat before admitting he had a massive hole where his stomach was. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just missing you." There was a huskiness to his voice, making you frown. It wasn't pain. But… "Are you able to slip away and talk in private for a little bit?"

Something about the way he said it made you blush, as if he was right there whispering into your ear. "I'm in my office with the door closed."

"Perfect. Have you got a new desk yet?"

You blushed as you looked at your desk, covered with papers and books, it wasn't nearly as grand or large as the last one. Or the one before that. Or the one before that.

All broken by your husband during his… visits.

"I do. It's not very well made, I guess they got annoyed about how many we've broken."

His laughter echoed in your ear. "I can't wait to get back and break that one too. I'll push all those boring dusty reports to the side, throw you up there and start railing you. Whole place is going to hear me fuck my wife."

If your face was't red before it was now as you slumped in your chair. Throat became dry as you listened to his slightly-heavy breathing. "So that's why you called me."

His chuckles echoed down your spine, goosebumps pricking your skin. "I've been out to sea too long. Can you blame me for wanting to hear my wife's voice as I jacked myself off."

You could just imagine him in his quarters, sitting at his desk, legs splayed wide open, cock hard as the mast as he teased himself. After all, how many times had you seen it when you worked as his secretary? First on accident, then on purpose.

"Are you already touching yourself?" You purred, switching mental gears, and heard him groan in response.

"Barely. I wanted to see if I could get you at least breathing heavy first."

You relaxed back in your chair, teasing your nipple through your outfit. "What got you all hard and bothered, sailor?"

"All this goddamn paperwork made me remember the days you used to sit beneath my desk and reward me for doing my reports," He answered. "Talk about initiave when you have a pretty woman giving you head, knowing you get to fuck her wet pussy once you're finished."

Your breath hitched between his words and memories. Hearing him growl in frustration as he tore through his work as you lazily sucked him off. "It was the only way to get you to work," You teased, making him growl.

"You fucking loved it. You start loosening the buttons on your blouse, showing your cleavage as you delivered reports. Bright red lipstick. You were begging me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

"I was," You admitted with a sigh, now fully groping yourself. Eyes closed as you focused on his voice and memory. "But could you blame me? I was serving under the vice admiral. Those huge muscles, that smile. I swear your eyes smouldered when you’d eye-fuck me. And then that is cock of yours. So big and girthy. I felt like a cat in heat wanting to be fucked by it."

"I shouldn't have wasted time. I should have just bent you over my desk that first day and claimed you right then and there, instead of hoping you didn't notice me jacking off under my desk while watching you work."

Your pussy clenched at the thought, and your hand pulled up your skirt and brushed the fabric of your underwear. "That would have been some first impression. But I admit, it felt rather nice realizing I had the legendary Monkey D. Garp lusting over little ol' me."

"Turned you into a little brat," He moaned. You had no doubt he was touching himself now from the way he was breathing. Stroking his hard cock, head leaned back with eyes closed. It was such a beautiful image. "It was like you were testing your limits. Seeing how far you could push until I snapped."

"No. I wanted you to snap. I knew you wanted me. I knew the mess you were making beneath your desk--you're hardly quiet with those growls of yours. I wanted to hear those growls in my ear as you fucked me. Those hands gripping my hair."

That growl was cutting every breath now. "Fuck darling. Please tell me I got you a little wet."

"A little?" You moaned as you pushed your underwear aside and teased yourself. "Sir, I am dripping."

"That's my girl," He snarled. "Always so wet and willing. How long would it take for you to come for me?"

"I thought you just wanted my voice," You teased.

"Plans change. I wanna hear you come. I wanna hear you whine and moan as you fuck yourself. I want to hear you begging me to come there and fill your pussy up."

You whimpered as you started to finger fuck yourself, rolling your hips in time with your thrusts. "Please, promise me you will. As soon as you're back to headquarters."

"Oh yes," He panted. "As soon as this ship's close to shore I'm jumping overboard and running straight for you. Fuck everyone else, I'm going to find you first. I'm gonna carry you into that little office and eat that pussy until you're a sobbing mess, and then we're gonna break that damn desk as I fuck you. The whole base will know I'm back just to satisfy my wife."

#garp one piece #vice admiral garp #monkey d garp #garp x reader #monkey d garp x reader #opla garp

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 11 months ago

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Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 2

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 911

Author's Note: Well, I made it into a series based off of the feedback I got from the poll. I also gave Wolffe's daughter a name and updated the previous chapter to include it. Uh, forewarning, it gets worse before it gets better. We still have several parts of angst to get through before we ever start seeing glimpses of happiness, but it will happen eventually!

Part 1 || Next

Series Masterlist

"CC-3636?" a nurse called as she entered the waiting room carrying a data-pad.

"Yes, I'm CC-3636," Wolffe said and quickly wiped his face. He stood up from the bench and approached the nurse.

"I need you to fill out this form so we can alert the next of kin to claim the body," the nurse said.

Wolffe knit his brows together. "I am the next of kin. I'm her husband."

The nurse bit her lip. "I'm sorry, but according to current Republic statutes your marriage is invalid, which makes you a family-friend, not a next of kin."

"Friend?" Wolffe scoffed. "We live together. Have a child together. I'd say that's more than friends."

The nurse sighed. "Cohabitation and bearing a child does not constitute a legal binding marriage in the eyes of Republic law."

Wolffe's breath was stolen as he stared blankly at the nurse. She couldn't be serious. There was no way. They couldn't get a marriage license. It was impossible. He tried and it was futile. Every which way he attempted failed. He couldn't get around the fact that he wasn't a legal citizen. He didn't even have a legal name that could've been put on the marriage license. They had the ceremony, did everything else they were supposed to do, but no one would give them an official license.

"Speaking of which," the nurse added under her breath, as if her own words pained her to speak. "We'll also need to contact child services since Cara is now considered a legal orphan."

"Orphan?" Wolffe exclaimed. "But I'm her father!"

"Is your name on the birth certificate?" the nurse asked, as if she already knew the answer.

A lump formed in Wolffe's throat and he clenched his fist. "No… It's not. But my DNA… I'm still her biological father."

"I'm sorry," the nurse said. "But legally you aren't. She will be placed in a children's care facility pending a familial investigation, and if no family is found, she will be placed into foster care."

"You can't take my daughter!" Wolffe yelled. "I've already lost my wife tonight! And now you want to take my kid from me too? What is wrong with you people!"

The nurse was startled at Wolffe's emotional outburst.

"She needs me!" Wolffe continued as he raised his voice higher. "I'm all she has left!"

"Sir," the nurse said. "I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do. We're bound by the laws."

"I swear to the Maker if you lay a single hand on her I'll–"

"If I may," Plo interrupted. He carefully handed the sniffling child back to Wolffe, then ushered the nurse down the hallway. "Perhaps you and I can discuss the details of this form privately."

"Very well, Master Jedi," the nurse agreed and followed him.

Wolffe collapsed back onto the bench and pressed his daughter against his chest as tightly as he could, terrified that at any moment someone would walk through the med-center doors and rip her out of his arms. He'd never let them take her. He'd rather die than let them take her. She meant everything to him, and with his wife gone, Cara was the only piece of her he had left. He didn't think his night could go from bad to worse, but his nightmares were quickly becoming a reality.

Wolffe felt Cara squirm in his arms and he loosened his grip. She didn't say anything between her quiet sniffles, but settled herself onto his lap to get more comfortable. Her face was red and puffy from crying, and she looked exhausted. Wolffe pulled up the edge of his sleeve and wiped up the snot dripping down her face, brushed a piece of her black curly hair away, then let her settle comfortably against his chest. He tilted his head down and kissed the top of her head while he rocked her back and forth the best he could.

"It's going to be okay," Wolffe whispered into her hair. "I won't let anything happen to you."

After a few more minutes, Plo returned with the nurse. They exchanged a few more words that Wolffe couldn't hear, but the nurse was smiling, so he hoped it was good news. Maker knew he couldn't handle anything else going wrong. As Plo approached the bench, Wolffe felt a new knot forming in the pit of his stomach. As tired and emotionally drained as he was, he would find a way to protect his daughter, even if it went against all of his training and every GAR regulation.

"General?" Wolffe questioned as Plo approached him, his exhaustion seeping through his voice.

"I have taken legal custody of Cara," Plo said. "She will reside at the Jedi Temple for the time being, and your wife will receive proper funeral rights as well."

Wolffe leaned his head back against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the stars."

The fact that his general would take custody of his daughter, just to keep her from being taken away from him, touched Wolffe's heart deeply. The arrangement was still not ideal, but it was better than what he hoped for, considering the alternatives of foster care or next of kin. At least at the Jedi Temple, Cara would be primarily safe and cared for, and he could see her unrestricted by laws. It wouldn't be enough when he got deployed, but for right now, at this moment, it was more than enough.

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

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Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

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...........................................

Chapter 5: Honeymoon Blues

You woke up early the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking. You slipped out of bed and went to the small bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for the day.

You were well rested. It was probably the best sleep you'd had in months. You went to your suitcase and found your simple black two-piece bathing suit. You were on vacation until Wednesday, and you planned to enjoy it. You slipped a pale blue Oxford button up on over your bathing suit and a pair of white shorts. You tossed your hair into a high ponytail before gathering a few things you would need for the lounging by the pool, which was right outside the sliding glass door of your room.

"Good morning, Sweetie." Bradley greeted you as you entered the room. "I made pancakes and eggs and bacon." He said.

You turned into the kitchen, and you had to do a double take. Bradley looks so different from the man you were used to seeing. He'd traded his suits for a pair of swim trunks, a white tee, and a Hawaiian print shirt.

"Who are you, and what have you done with the president?" You tease him. He laughed before setting a plate of food down in front of you. You perched on a stool at the island and began to eat.

"Oh my god! These are the best pancakes I've ever had!" You exclaim through a mouth full of food.

"Thank you, Bradshaw family secret recipe." He laughs. "Does that mean you're going to share it with me sometime?" You smirk at him while wagging your rings in his face. He tenses before muttering, "Yeah, sure, I guess I can." The two of you talk for a bit. After breakfast, you insist on cleaning up the kitchen.

You then grab your things to head to the deck. "I'm going to lounge on the deck. Would you like to join me? You might as well take advantage of this free time we have." You tell him.

"I might be out there in a few." Bradley replies. You shrug your shoulders and head outside.

Once outside on the private pool deck, you open the umbrella beside a lounge chair and set your things down. You place your book, phone, and water bottle on the nearby table before spreading out your towel on the lounger. You slip off your shorts and unbutton a few of the shirts' buttons, but decide to leave it on before you settle down in the chair and start reading.

After about thirty minutes, Bradley joined you with two beers in his hand.

"Isn't it a little early to start drinking?" You asked him.

"It's five o'clock somewhere." He mused as he handed you one. You set your book down and took a sip.

"I think I'm ready for a swim. Can you put some sunscreen on my back for me?" You asked him.

He nodded. You grabbed your bottle and passed it to him before turning to stand with your back to him. You slipped your shirt off your shoulders and tossed it aside.

Bradley almost lost it at the sight of your in your simple black bikini. He'd never seen this much of your skin. It was just as beautiful as he thought it would be. And he had thought about it a lot. Probably more than he should have.

He swallowed thickly as he quickly composed himself and rubbed the lotion on your back and shoulders before setting it on the table next to him and sitting back down. You turned around to thank him—and that's when he saw it. His eyes almost buldge out of head. Thankfully, you couldn't see them because of his sunglasses.

He was enraptured by what he saw.

The distinct black ink on the left side of your chest that curved under your left breast and disappeared under the band of your swim top.

"You have a tattoo?" He blurted out in surprise. "Oh, yeah. I didn't tell you?" You asked him. No, you most definitely did not tell him. He would have remembered that. He would have fantasized about what it looked like if it was the only thing you had on. "It's not visible all the time. Sometimes I forget about it." You laugh.

"What is it?" He asks you. You move closer to show him. You lift up the band of your top ever so slightly so he can see the whole thing.

"It's one of Ruth Bader Ginsburgs lace judicial collars she used to wear. It says 'I belong in all places' on the inside because of my favorite quote by her: 'Women belong in all places where decisions are being made.' I got it here because I wanted to keep that close to my heart. Being a woman in politics isn't always easy. I wanted a reminder that I belonged here." You explain to him.

"It's amazing." Bradley tells you. Without thinking, his hand reaches up to trace the ink. You shudder under his touch. "Sorry." He quickly draws his hand away.

"It's fine, I'm just ticklish." You laugh. "Care to join me?" You say as you nod toward the pool. "I'm fine, have fun." He tells you as he leans back into his chair. Bradley waits until you've dove under the water to get up and leave. The sight of your nearly naked form and him learning about your tattoo have made him impossibly hard, and he needs to get back inside now before he combusts.

.........................

Wednesday couldn't come fast enough for Bradley. After the tattoo fiasco, he'd spilled wine all over your pajamas by knocking your glass over. You were frustrated because you didn't have another set to wear. He'd offered you one of his worn Navy shirts he had packed, though he would have preferred it if you wore nothing at all. It was almost sinful the way it fit your body, stopping at your mid thighs, leaving just enough to the imagination. You spent the rest of the weekend prancing around in it, and when you had to reach up to get something off the shelf and he caught a glimpse of your lace underwear, it almost did him in.

But the thing that really killed him was Tuesday night. The two of you had decided to watch a movie, and you had ended up falling asleep on him. Bradley had to will himself to get up and put you in your bed and not his. He loved the way your body tucked into his. He had to do something.

Your flight back was easy, and everyone was happy the two of you were back. You were all smiles when you entered the White House. Bradley was quickly pulled into a meeting in his office while you went to your room to unpack.

Only, when you got in there, your things were missing. Everything of yours had been moved. Your smile quickly turned into a grimace as you asked one of the housekeepers where your things were.

She informed you that Bradley had called that morning and made arrangements for your things to be moved into his, well now your shared bedroom.

You rushed down the hall to his office. You were fuming. How dare he? You spend a long weekend together, and now he thinks he can just move your things without your consent? He thinks just because you're married, now he can boss you around? Just when you'd started to like him, he becomes a dickhead again.

You both knew this marriage was a calculated business arrangement. There was no reason for you to have to live with him.

"BRADLEY!" You shrieked as you stormed into his office. He was by himself, his meeting over you assumed.

"Yes, Sweetie?" He asked as he cocked his head to one side.

"Where are my things!" You yelled at him. "I had them moved into our room. You won't need your old room anymore now that we're married." He preened.

You locked eyes with him. You could detect a hit of something. It wasn't anger. It was more like resentment or frustration. Was he mad that you slept in a separate room over the weekend? No. That couldn't be it. He didn't want to share a bed with you? Did he? You shook the thought from your head.

"It wouldn't look good if people saw us sleeping in separate rooms, now that we are back, would it?" He asked you.

"I know that the staff have been thoroughly vetted, but all it would take is one of them saying that you still sleep in your old room for the tabloids to go crazy. The rumors would start flying immediately. You know I'm right." He stated.

You sighed. It was all part of the game you two were playing.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. He did have a point.

"Fine. But next time you have my stuff moved, you'd better tell me first—dear." There was an edge in your voice as you used the pet name. "My apologies—sweetie." He shot back at you. You groan before storming out to go to your new bedroom.

"That went well." Jake chuckles as he comes into the room. He'd stepped out for a moment and heard everything.

"You know you're being petty right now?" Jake asks Bradley. "I'd be a lot simpler if you just told her how you felt instead of forcing her to shack up with you." Jake croons.

"I'm not forcing her to do anything. I'm simply keeping up appearances." Rooster smirks before kicking his feet up on his desk and taking a sip of his whiskey.

...................

That night, when bedtime came, you were nervous. Bradley had already showered and was watching TV when you got back from a post honeymoon dinner with Jaycee. You got your sleep clothes and found everything you needed for your shower. You drug out your skincare routine as long as you could. When you emerged from the bathroom, you noticed Bradley had set up some pillows and blankets on the couch and was getting ready to lay down.

"Bradley, I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed. I can take the couch, or we can get a cot put in here." You tell him gently. "Sweetheart, I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch, and definitely no cots. You can take the bed. This couch is insanely comfortable." He assured you.

"Bradley, dear, the president shouldn't be sleeping on a couch." You tell him. You look at the bed, and then you look at him. "This bed is huge. We can—we can share. I mean, no matter how comfortable you say that couch is, you can't sleep on it for the next four years." You tell him

He takes a few seconds before he reluctantly agrees to it. You inform him that you sleep on the left side of the bed, which is fine because he prefers the right. He even takes time to build a pillow wall between the two of you before he slips under the blanket.

You click off the light and tell him goodnight before turning over.

Neither of you knows it yet, but neither of you gets much sleep that night. Both of you are too busy longing for the person on the other side of the pillows who is so close, but still so far away

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I know it wasn't as much drama, but I promise the next two parts are going to have you reeling!

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silviakundera · 8 months ago

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Kinnporsche Fanfic Recs

In celebration of the 2 year anniversary, here is an avalanche of Kinn/Porsche fics that I've enjoyed. Painfully incomplete & posted in no particular order. My shipping interests are 100% focused on the K/P couple and that will be reflected in my list, sorry 😘.

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by Lilla_Torg

(79,000 words) Green Arrow inspired AU. "After five years abroad, Kinn Theerapanyakul returns to find his city under siege by a vigilante known as the Phoenix."

Stain of Sun by Lilla_Torg

(78,000 words) Omega brothers Porsche (hacker) and Chay (grifter) team up to take down the Theerapanyakul crime family. Things do not go as planned. // This marries A/B/O with mutant powers. As long as you're not wholly opposed to Omegaverse, give it a chance. Every one of this author's long KPtS fics is a banger.

Pouring Down Crimson Fire by Lilla_Torg

(119,000 words) Sort of a mutant AU but honestly that underplays how fucking cool this fic is. “I think you know something about keeping secrets,” said Kinn. He flashed Porsche a pocket-ace smirk. “You’re mine. Say it.”

The boy he’d been fourteen years ago would have told him where to shove it. But Porsche had been around long enough to know that the mafia always won. Still, he looked around, searching for a way out, before giving up and turning back to Kinn, those black eyes awaiting his surrender.

“I’m yours,” he said.

a perpetual unscattering by concernedlily

(31,000 words) Canon-divergence AU. “Pissing in bottles behind a cocktail bar,” Kinn said. “But Pa gave him to me, so I’m stuck with him.” To a visibly furious Porsche he said, “You don’t know the minor family? Never come across any of them before?”

“How would I know the fucking minor family?” Porsche snapped.

what a tangled web we weave by fortunehasgivenup

(80,000 words) 1000 Nights inspired alternate universe, fantasy-historical Thailand. // After the betrayal of his first husband, King Anakinn Theerapanyakul vows to never love again. Once a week, he takes a new husband, a young man who will not live to see another dawn.

When a nobleman comes to find a young man to adopt and marry off to the king in place of his own son, Thee chooses Chay.

Faced with an outcome that he refuses to contemplate, Porsche steps in and takes Chay's place. He only has one request for the king - to be allowed to tell his brother one last bedtime story.

Burn Your Name Into My Skin by Everyforkedroad

(72,000 words) In which Kinn visits a high-end sex club and he & Porsche meet under the guise of anonymity for what should be a 1 night encounter. Except not only are they intensely drawn together... things are not what they seem.

Salt by ronandhermy

(49,000 words) Sweat stings because the salt is purifying. Porsche may be in high school but he is still a National Champion in Taekwondo and he catches the eye of the national team's newest sponsor: The Theerapanyakun Family. Alternate first meeting. Leans into the darkness of canon, read the tags and proceed w caution.

how do you like it, daddy by Baby_Droll

(28,000 words) "and ain't shit 'bout me cheap and ain't shit 'bout me free" - our lord and savior, florence millicent. kinn & porsche, and all the other pieces on their fucked up chess board. a sugar baby/daddy au with an omegaverse twist. // This is a dark reimagining alternate universe. Iconic toxic K/P fic.

two shots by Martynax

(81,000 words) AU, different first meeting. Porsche joined the armed forces & became a hired gun. // “So I’m supposed to end a mafia dispute?”

“Something like that,” he mutters, wondering if he’s making a mistake, revealing it to Porsche so soon. Nothing is set in stone, after all. But he has a gut feeling that the man appreciates honesty and simplicity much more than intrigue and schemes.

be the best you ever tasted by Martynax

(90,000 words) an AU where Porsche's life is shit so he shakes his perky little bum for strangers at a strip club and Kinn books him for a private show. Porsche doesn't fuck customers and shouldn't get associated with whatever grey business his boss is trying to run out of the club. But... you know how this is gonna go.

between the sheets by DasWarSchonKaputt

(70,000 words) “And who’s that?”

“Oh. That’s Porsche. He’s Khun Kinn’s live-in boytoy. He’s harmless, mostly. Just a pretty face.”

A boyfriend can go so many places a bodyguard can’t. As the threat of a potential leak in their security forces looms large, Khun Korn hatches a plot to place an added layer of protection around his heir presumptive. Enter Porsche, former bartender, current bodyguard, and reluctant fake boyfriend of Kinn Theerapanyakul.

Stumbling to the Edge by FireRisingOverTheHills

(51,000 words) Of the genre of KP fics where Kinn and Porsche meet-cute in a random bar encounter, instead of a meet-ugly, this one is my fav. I just really enjoy the Kinn PoV with his what?! is?! happening??? vibes as he finds himself irresistibly drawn to someone who doesn't fit neatly into defined roles.

"He makes this all seem like it’s perfectly normal and Kinn is helpless to do anything but go along with it."

Whatever Else that Touches You by technicallyverycowboy

(9,330 words) Tender established relationship and bisexual self discovery, post canon. // "No, it's fine." Porsche shifts to be a little less plastered against Kinn's side, straightens his shoulders and smooths out his jacket with great dignity. "The answer to your question is yes, I have really never been with any other men." Porsche answers questions, asks some of his own, tries new things, and fills in the knowledge gaps of his own sexuality.

An Elegant Mechanism by Laughsalot3412

(87,000 words) A/B/O AU, Kim centric with some background K/P and dysfunctional brothers & cousin bonding. The only fic on this list that isn't K/P primary. // "Kim was only an omega when he was luring people closer to his gun. No one had to give Kim a weapon. He was one. (Kim's mission is to get close to Porchay Kittisawat. Chay is not a typical alpha. Kim is not a typical omega. Kim isn't having feelings and Chay is going to be so normal about all of this.)"

Love and Violence by thewayside

(9,500 words) Beautifully written, post ep 14. // "Love and violence have always been bedfellows for Kinn. Down to how his first proper relationship ended in a pool of blood. Porsche’s beauty might have drawn him in, but he knows in his gut that he met someone in kind that first night, blood coursing through their veins as the fight ended and Porsche led him onto a bike to a road he barely knew."

Burnished night, blood-soaked stars by The_Old_Astronomer

(13,000 words) Missing scene set between the end of episode 6 and the side story (pre-ep 7). Porsche fights to keep Kinn alive after the attack, and gradually realises how much the other man means to him.

Night Call by vesna (mrsronweasley)

(34,500 words) "On Kinn's birthday, Kinn is dragged by Tae and Time to a strip club, where he gets a private dance from a man who calls himself Jom. Kinn is smitten. Things spin out from there." Canon AU, where Porsche became a stripper because bartending wasn't paying enough.

NFWMB by vesna (mrsronweasley)

(18,700 words) There's a rushing in Kinn's ears, a noise he can't shake. It almost makes him miss the next thing Arm tells him. "He was supposed to check in, as per protocol, but—" "But what," Kinn snaps. A headache is building behind one of his eyes. Arm's eyes are wide right before he lowers them and says, "He hasn't been heard from in two and a half hours." Or, post-canon Porsche is kidnapped. Kinn goes through it.

Caught Off Guard by Altered_Ego

(23,000 words) The one where Porsche is one of his escort's bodyguard. Alternate first meeting; Porsche took another path to support his brother.

the less i know the better by mslunita

(45,000 words) Bored Kinn joins Tinder in hopes of getting his rocks off with a different kind of guy, instead of the standard escorts. Porsche challenges him in just the right way. // Alternate first meeting. Basically their canon selves, but this is after Porsche has already had his bi awakening.

XXX curious STRAIGHT boy BEGS for COCK for the FIRST TIME XXX by mirrorofprinces

(35,000 words ) Porn industry AU. “Porsche is extremely close to signing. In fact, he has a final meeting with the execs on Monday morning. The only condition is that he wants to request his first partner, and it’s you.” Kinn takes a long drink of his whiskey, sets the glass down, and runs his tongue over his teeth. “So you had to meet with me, urgently, to tell me that a beautiful boy wants me to fuck him, thinking I’d say no.” He drums his fingers on the bartop. “Which means there’s a catch.”

paint my kiss across your chest (your touch is like a happy pill) by darkknight

(16,000 words) Episode 8 era. "Porsche discovers different new ways of how good sex can feel, ways that would never even have crossed his mind before meeting Kinn."

quis custodiet ipsos custode by concernedlily

(8,600 words) Porsche being on dangerous missions and Kinn discovering he has Feelings About That. Missing scenes and Post Ep 14.

Wing of a Butterfly by Kalere

(320,000 words) Some years before the canon storyline, two young men have a random encounter at a bar. Their friendship changes everything. // The epic Porsche & Vegas friendship fic.

#kinnporsche #kpts #fic rec #there are tons more great KP fics #i am certain I left off at least a dozen #this fandom is blessed with its authors #please be inspired by this to publish your own recs

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nrdmssgs · 1 year ago

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Hi hi! I was wondering if I could request a 141 reaction to reader asking them to dance out in the rain with them, civilian or a fellow soldier? I really loved the headcanon you did of falling asleep on their shoulder and I just need more fluff of them please

Masterlist

Oh how I love doing anything in the rain with SO!!!!!!!! I live for such requests, thank you so much!! I had the best time writing this.

TF 141 reacting on reader, asking them for a dance in the rain

Simon Ghost Riley

This was the most important day in his life, the happiest one. But Ghost still felt guilt stinging him time to time. What if you said, you wanted it to be quiet and private just to make him comfortable? What this didn't match your dreams, what if his whole life didn't meet your expectations? There were no guests, no intricate or pompous speeches, no tears or happy laughter - everything was down to earth, calm and fast. Simon didn't even get it right away, when everything was done. He just stood there before the clerk looking at your certificate.

"You sure, you don't want any gift to remember this day?" He took your hand so that he doesn't lose you on a crowded street.

"Oh, I have a gift, don't worry. And I'm planning to keep it for life." Your smile illuminated even this colorless autumn day.

Simon heard a large raindrop hit your shoulder. The next drop touched his cheek. This rain reminded a more summer one: it did not cover the city with a moisture gray veil, but merrily played with the rays of the sun, which appeared at the other end of the sky and refracted in lonely drops.

People around you fled, seeking shelter from the rain, and Ghost cursed softly. "Not only haven't I arranged a proper ceremony for you - now the day will be ruined by the rain..."

"How many times do I have to repeat, that it is primarily me, who didn't want any ceremonies?" You lift his hand and place a kiss on his knuckle.

"If you ever have second thoughts - let me know right away. I'll find a tailor, arrange a cake and the isle, and what else people do normally..."

"Mister Riley, this may come as a surprise, people do whatever they please." Your laughter immediately eases his soul. "Now please stop beating yourself for not being an incarnation of every teenage dream. I don't need it. What I need to remember this day forever is you, Simon. Just you."

"Just me is not enough..." This was meant to be inaudible, but you still heard him and stopped in your tracks.

"Please, never say that again. You are enough. Now, if you want to go above and beyond that badly today - dance with me. Right here, right now." Your request takes him by surprise. But it's you, and he swore to himself when you two signed the papers earlier, that you'd get whatever you ask for. Always.

He stands motionless for a while, never taking his eyes off you. And then he holds out his hand to you. His heart beats as fast as the day you met.

"May I have this dance, Mrs Riley?"

Kyle Gaz Garrick

"Kyle!" You would jump on the hospital bed right into his arms, if you were sure, it wouldn't hurt him.

Gaz smiled widely the very second, he heard your cry. "Hi, sweetie! I'm so glad, you made it here, I missed you so much!" His lively voice doesn't match his appearance: his body is covered with patches and stitches, and it almost screams 'let me rest and don't even think to go on another mission in next few months'. You frown at the sight of it and come closer, inspecting every centimeter of his skin.

He tracks your gaze and says lightheartedly, "Don't worry, sweets, in a week ill be as good as new."

"In a pair of weeks," corrects him nurse, who lead you into his room.

"In a pair of weeks, I'll be dead of boredom here..."

You profusely apologize to the nurse for Kyle and when she leaves, closing the door behind her, you turn back. "It's okay, I've got my job done, and I'll be here with you for as long as it takes." You are so relieved to finally see him in one piece, after you got that frightening call. You know, it's his job, his life, but you can't lose him, cant even imagine waking up, knowing, I will never see that myriad of different smiles of Kyle Garrick.

One of your favorites is that sneaky shit-eating grin, when he is about to win a bet or a game. It is so pure, so full of joy - it makes you believe for a short moment, there is no war out there, no hell, he will have to return to sooner or later. So for the next two weeks you come up with all kinds of games, only to see that smile on his face.

Even though it was Kyle who ended up in the hospital bed out of the two of you, he takes care of you as usual, not the other way around. So every time you lose a bet - he makes you eat a desert from his lunch, or wraps you in his shirt, so that you are cozy and warm. But in rare cases, when you win - you exploit it as much as you can. After your very first win you make him promise, that he will follow every instruction of his doctors, and in two weeks he will dance with you in the courtyard of the hospital.

Gaz keeps his word, and after two weeks you finally leave the hospital. It would be the perfect moment - if not for one "BUT": the street meets you with pouring rain.

"Sorry, sweetheart, looks like no dancing in the wild for you today. But if you are willing to wait for a few hours - I promise, well find a perfect ballroom somewhere in my flat." Kyle touches your shoulder and smiles reassuringly.

"Oh no, all your ballrooms require us to press ourselves as close to each other and not swing at all."

"And that was... pretty much the most significant part of my plan." Even when he is flirting with you that shamelessly - Kyle somehow keeps the softest eyes and sweetest smile.

You know him too well - Kyle can't refuse you. So when you hold out your hand to him, he shakes his head, leans the bags against the wall, and leads you out into the little garden in front of the hospital building. There he puts one arm around your waist and circles slowly with you, oblivious to the rain. He does not hide the admiration with which he watches your movements. When you get closer to each other - he covers every inch of your face with kisses, repeating "Losing to you was the best thing, my angel. Thank you for helping me out".

Captain John Price

On your first date, you looked nervous. Despite knowing him for years already, this evening felt different. You knew, at some point you'll have to explain, what's going on, but words kept failing you.

"You ok, love?" John noticed it. Of course, he would, since his eyes never left your face.

No.

"Yes! I mean, of course... Sorry, where were we?"

But he knows you too well, and you already feel his eyes scanning through a smile plastered on your face. So John takes your hand and starts asking questions. He doesn't pressure you, but just helps you to navigate through your anxiety, trying to specify, what causes it. So you finally give in and explain that even the most insignificant physical contacts are difficult for you. At the same time, you are incredibly glad that you two finally went on a date. To your relief, John reacts calmly, lets go of your hand and reassures you, that your wellbeing is much more important than social customs, demanding, that every good date must end with a kiss or a hug.

"I promise to not touch this topic, if you don't feel like sharing, but I must know, if anything... or anyone caused this or if it's just the way you are, which is absolutely ok." His voice is soft. It sounds so comforting, you feel safe enough to share your reasoning, which Price accepts right away.

Since then, he catches himself urging to touch you, but freezing, before his hand actually reaches your personal space. No matter how badly he wanted to comfort you and share his warmth - John remembered, he better come up with an alternative way to do that. So he made you warm with words, little presents, acts of service - anything, but touch.

One day, he was walking you home from another date when lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, illuminating the evening sky.

"Oh no, it's about to rain, John, come wait at my place."

"Don't worry, love, you don't scare a brit with a few raindrops. You need a good sleep before working week, so I'll get you home and be on my way to my place right after."

When you are saying goodbyes at your door, it starts raining. John turns away and heads right into a thick wall of raindrops, falling all around a canopy. "It's just water, it's not gonna harm him," you think to yourself. But something inside you asks, demands, pleads you to stop him. So you dart after Price and grab him in an awkward embrace from back.

"Love?" John turns his head. "I told you to not wo-"

You cut him off, shifting around and now pressing your cheek against his broad chest. It is unexpected, but so much awaited, John barely holds back a shiver, that runs down his body. You start quietly humming some vaguely familiar melody and gently rocking back and forth.

"Can I hug you back?" Even startled by your sudden act of affection, John still guards your border.

You nod, still pressing yourself so close to him, that raindrops can't wet his jacket from the front. Carefully and slowly, he locks you in an embrace, letting you continue slowly dancing with him. He doesn't care for the rain or late hour anymore - he only cares for you in his hands.

Johnny Soap Mactavish

"Seriously, another bloody traffic jam? " Soap presses his face against car window and groans. You've asked him for about a hundred times not to do that, but it is impossible to make Johnny cooperate, when he is unhappy.

Hes been venting to you about that gig for the last few months. You were pretty sure, it was because you owned a car, which was practically the only reasonable transport to reach such a secluded small town, where the concert took place. One must have witnessed Johnnys puppy eyes, when he asked you to ride there together with him, to understand, why you just couldn't say no. You invited the rest of the 141 to join you, but all of them, by a strange coincidence, remembered some urgent personal plans at the last moment.

So there you were, alone with a whining Sergeant in a car, stuck in a traffic jam, that was very likely to not let you make it in time even for the second half of the gig. And as if things weren't bad enough - it started raining.

"I'm sorry, Soap. I'm not sure, we will be there in time." You hated it that, you couldn't change the situation, because Johnny always did everything in his power to cheer you up, help you or just make you smile. You wanted to be as good friend as he was to you, but this traffic jam required a true magician in order to get sorted out in minutes. So you sigh deeply, tapping the steering wheel with your fingertips.

The idea hits you out of nowhere. You pull to the side, as soon as you reach a small, empty parking area in the woods.

Soap turns to you with a puzzled face. "Lass? Everything alright?"

Without answering him, you turn off the engine and pick up the phone. "Ah, you want to look for another route again?" suggests Johnny. "But we already tried it a hundred times - there are no alternatives ..."

"Calm down, MacTavish, I'm bringing you the concert."

"You mean, you're bringing me to the concert?" He tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"I said what I said, Johnny... Now, give me ju-u-u-ust one more minute.... Here, perfect!" With these words, you jump out of the car right into the rain and open the passenger door. "C'mon, MacTavish, we spent a few hours trying to get there, we might as well enjoy our very own concert."

With the first chords of the song, a radiant smile blooms on Johnny's face. He throws his head back and laughs out loud, covering his face with his hands. "Ya crazy, lassie, you know it?"

You pull him out of the car and take his both hands in yours. "Listen, I know, this is no way as fun as the real gig. But I dont want you to remember this day as 'that time, we killed a day in a car', ok?"

Johny moves closer, not stopping laughing and starts slow dancing with you despite a rather jolly and fast melody. "Oh fuck that concert. This right here is worth a month spent in a traffic jam. I wouldn't trade it for anything"

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